Thursday, May 31, 2007

Just Because

WHEREAS the iminent arrival of the Weaselette has me nostalgic for my own childhood, and;

WHEREAS Valdimir Putin is coming to Maine to visit George Bush at the start of July, and;

WHEREAS Dutch/German/Jamaican historical story-telling disco is a much underated musical subgenre;

THEREFORE we do declare May 31, 2007 to be Boney M day at Wisdom Weasel:

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Lost Bet to Bill

It had to happen. Despite the fantastic performance of the Red Sox versus the Yankees so far this season, the day would come when they would drop a series against New York. Regular visitors to this blog may recall that I have an ongoing bet with Bill Norris that results in the infliction of humiliation on the loser of each round. And now Bill has set my punishment:

"Well, seeing as the Yankees really suck this season, my heart hasn't been in collecting on my bet with Weasel. But, as it is unlikely that I shall triumph again this year, I have finally decided on my terms. There is a semi-regular feature on Weasel's blog wherein he does the following:

'About a year ago I embarked on a project to write short posts about my ten favorite paintings over a 12 month period.'

So, Mr. Weasel, please go here and select any three of the prints on offer and subject them to fawning art criticism as if they are amongst those dozen pieces you call favorites."

OK:

Yankee Stadium, 2003 World Series

Right from the start, this image captivates with its wordless depiction of hubris and seemingly unstoppable evil. Of course, the observer already knows the result: that good triumphed and the improbable Florida Marlins beat the Yankees 4-2 that year. But that does not detract from the overall air of totalitarian menace so deftly captured by the photographer. Like Reifenstahl's Triumph of the Will, the very architecture of the place sets the tone for the undeniable totalitarian air and the swastika-like Yankees logo on the field and the Wehrmacht breast pocket eagle on the big screen suggest jackboots repeatedly stomping on the face of the weak, sporting, or disabled. This is an empire, and it is evil. Simply bone chilling, but with a nice flag to offset the horror.

Ted Williams and Joe DiMaggio

Ah, the Splendid Splinter and Joltin' Joe- like Williams himself, a moment frozen in time. Proof that among the players at least, the rivalry used to be much more good natured. Or did it? For the subtext of this photo becomes apparent after a few hours of close study. Look at their hands; like A Rod, it appears that DiMaggio is trying to surreptitiously injure a Red Sox player in order to gain the most minute of advantages. Perhaps it is in retaliation for Williams having asked how Joe enjoyed spending his service days in California, Hawaii, and Atlantic City while Williams trained pilots in the Second World War then flew 38 combat missions in Korea, winning the Air Medal. A true study in layers.


Lou Gehrig

Given the era in which Gehrig played, this is a one-in-a-million shot. Bear in mind that during his playing career the polio ravaging President Franklin Roosevelt's body was kept secret from the American public, his wheelchair and sticks being kept out of public view and camera viewfinders by common consent. Yet here is Gehrig, ravaged by his eponymous disease, laboring towards the plate to face the first pitch. Look how the photographer candidly catches the sheer effort of baseball's original iron man, his sheer intestinal fortitude and refusual to give up investing every involuntarily shaky step. Indeed, this is a most inspiring image- one for the ages.

This Is Not A Baseball Blog 16

The Cleveland Indians are in Boston, which means a return to el norte for ex-Sox and long-time fan favorite-slash-born again christian pig-pen, Trot Nixon:

Trot Nixon

Deputy Junior from TV's "Reno 911"

Monday, May 28, 2007

Memorial Day 2007: They Died for Our Freedoms?

They died in Europe, for Europe, and for ideas bigger than any nation

It is Memorial Day in the United States. Originally known as Decoration Day when instituted in 1868, the holiday was intended to recognise the sacrifices made by both sides in the American Civil War, up until that point the bloodiest conflict by the ratio of combatants killed or wounded the world had yet seen. As the years passed the holiday lost its association with a specific conflict and has come to serve as a national day of remembrance for all Americans killed in war from the fight for independence to the current day.

An exercise in national remembrance is a worthy thing, especially in an age where distractions and invitations to disunity abound. A little contemplation does us good, whether as individuals or in collective units. It is disheartening (although inevitable) however to constantly hear the rhetorical pablum that has become associated with Memorial Day.

The most common irksome phrase, and the one I want to waste this post considering, is "They died for our freedoms". One hates to be churlish when considering the memorialization of victims of circumstances largely beyond their control, but no, no they didn't.

At no point since the Civil War has the United States been involved in an existential war, the loss of which would result in the external imposition of an entirely new form of government resulting in the substantial loss of the ideals of freedom enshrined in the constitution. (I must say "ideals of freedom" as even today every promise of liberty contained in the constitution encounters either legislative caveats or extra-legal constraints on its route to the people. If the constitution had been fully implemented from the start and free of impediment today there would be no need for the Supreme Court to act as a freedom adjudicator).

The majority of the United States' wars fall into one of two categories- expansionist or ideological. In the expansionist phase, there was little risk that the Plains Indians, the Mexicans, or the Spanish colonial administrators of Cuba and the Philippines would have mounted a cavalry charge up Pennsylvania Avenue, deposed the president, and planted their flag in the Rose Garden. In the ideological phase, although fraught with dangers and with the prospect of a much-diminished America should defeat ensue the wars were fought overseas in support of concepts- democracy, human rights, vengeance, the free movement of capital, and so on- not to protect hearth and home. Even if Eisenhower been pushed from the beaches on D Day or if Nimitz had his fleet sunk from under him in the Pacific there was very little chance that New York would have been conquered and named "Neue Berlin" or Los Angeles would see a sushi restaurant on every block (oh, wait a minute- bad analogy). Defeat in an expeditionary war of ideology does not mean the end of the American way of life. There are proofs of this: Vietnam and Somalia.

So as you can see, it is not true but rather merely infantile and unthinking to say that the vast majority of America's war dead "died for our freedoms". In many cases they died for no less worthy causes (such as the freedom of others) and in some cases they died for fantasies (such as the idea that the USS Maine was sunk by the Spanish, or the idea of Iraq as a oasis of peace and democracy in a Middle Eastern nuclear free zone). They did not die however, to stop the Germans over-running, oooh, lets say Remsen, Iowa.

But is it such a bad thing, to simplify the idea of Americans dying for a mess of (sometimes contradictory) concepts to "They died for our freedoms"? After all, the sentiment and drive behind the desire to remember come from good places. While it is true that a wish to pause and take stock of those who have suffered for the name and beliefs of one's particular tribe is quite admirable, the problem is that the over-simplification of why they died does a double disservice. First, it is a demonstration of laziness unbeffiting those who fell. If one wants to remember beyond going through the motions, it would behoove one to know a little of the circumstances in which these many, many people died. Second, the phrase "They died for our freedoms" is a thought-killer and in antithesis to many of these freedoms people allege folks died for. Like "Support our troops" it is a mashed potato sentence; easily spoonfed to infants and the aged alike, slipping down the throat with ease, and easy to digest. It also kills debate- many people may dislike pre-emptive war, feel ashamed at the slaughter of the Native Americans, or question the utility of dropping cluster bombs on villages that may house a few insurgents among the civillian population, but who hates freedom?

Alas, the currency of this phrase will probably only grow. While in the shower this morning I heard some gormless DJ (on a sports radio station, no less) exclaim with more than a hint of gleeful malice in his voice that he held no truck with those who thought that journalists, litigators, politicians, and thinkers had contributed to the sum of human freedoms- all freedom comes at the point of a bayonet. Tell that to Gandhi, who was all four and liberated hundreds of millions of Indians in the face of the bayonets.

By all means take time to remember. But also take time to think. And what ever you do, don't confuse Abraham Lincoln's phrase: right makes might, and not the other way around. Confusion of freedom and national identity with the boots and banners of the military is what did for the Prussians and ultimately, if left unchecked, it will do for the United States as well.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

This Is Not A Baseball Blog 15

Last year I noticed that Kevin Youkilis of the Boston Red Sox resembled Popeye when at bat. Youk grew a beard in the off-season, and as a consequence he now resembles Bluto:

The big hearted, givin'-it-his-all Kevin Youkilis


Popeye's nemesis, Bluto

If next year Youk shows up with his hair in a bun, knobby knees, and signs of dramatic weight loss I think that will indicate that he plans on hitting for the Popeye cycle.

In other baseball news, the Sox dropped the last series to the Yankees. I now await my forfeit from Bill Norris with more trepidation than the prospect of those poo-filled nappies/daipers that wait me in my immediate future.

On a happier note however, I am very impressed with some of the search terms that have been leading people to this blog. I am humbled to think that I might be among the premier web destinations for updates for people who "hate swedes", who are interested in "three legged frog(s)", who have canine issues along the lines of "my dog ruined my carpet", or who want to know who holds the "world record for longest projectile vomit". Keep looking, seekers!

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

A Web of Self-Contradiction

Down in Brooklyn, chum Listmaker asks:

"On Meet the Press, Newt Gingrich kept referring to Al Qaeda as Al Kai EE DA. Is that the way you actually say it or is Gingrich just even more of an asshole than I thought he was?"

I say when in doubt go with the BBC, whose diction Gingrich appears to be copying in this case. Mastery of pronunciation does not mean that Newt has a bloody clue what he is talking about however.

After reading Listmaker's query I began to ponder the range of pronunciations and how they effect my opinion of the speaker. Hearing ignorant Bush Administration cowboys bang on about "Eye-ran" and "Eye-rack" makes my spit curdle, but so does the sound of a PC leftie making a meal out of "Nick-oooh-raugh-wah". Unless our Sandanista boosting authenticist says "Paree", "Meh-hi-ko", "Moskva", "Roma" and so on, they should probably stop attempting to re-live the glory days of Reagan's second term and get back to knitting ugly, itchy sweaters. The quest for too much authenticity is as annoying as a cavalier disregard for how people pronounce the names of their homes. But make no mistake, both set my teeth on edge.

As with all things, some sort of compromise is the best way forward. Sensitivity to the origins of a place name and local pronunciation is good but should be held in the context of one's own linguistic tradition. Sentences should run naturally but not grate on the ear of listeners beyond one's immediate circle (for the reverse of this listen to any speech by a member of the Bush Administration or any statement by any junior Republican member of the House of Representatives at any point in the past half century).

And if all else fails, and you want to trump former speaker Gingrich, you can always turn to the BBC Pronunciation Guide, produced by the Beeb's Pronunciation Research Unit. The only side effect is that you may start sounding like Helen Mirren or Colin Firth, but that surely is a small price to pay.

At the very least I'm going to print this out and send it to that annoying bastard at Maine Public Radio who consistently pronounces the word for an assemblage of chairs, tables, etc as "Fhur-naht-chooor". I swear he does it just to piss me off.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

This is Not a Baseball Blog 14

Time once again for another visit with the ever-popular looky-likey feature, "This is Not a Baseball Blog".

This round's contestants are:

NESN's Boston Red Sox TV announcers Don Orsillo and Jerry Remy

Johnny and Nick from MTV's "Celebrity Death Match".

Also, can anyone within the NESN coverage area confirm Country Mouse's suspicion that Jerry Remy is so full of Botox that his forehead could be declared a superfund site?

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Ahhhh....


The trees in Maine are almost in full leaf, it has recently rained, the air smells like mown grass and decapitated dandelions, it is mostly overcast, and it is just chilly enough during the day to merit a sweater.

This all makes me think of playing cricket badly or sitting under the big oak tree on the upper park keeping score for house matches while at school. This in turn makes me feel very happy.

All I need now is a whiff of linseed oil, a Gray Nicholls "superlite" bat, a pencil stub, and a Wham bar for between overs sustenance.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

The Blues and (Not) Royals

From MSNBC:

"Prince Harry not to serve in Iraq
Ministry of Defense says deployment too dangerous for 3rd in line to throne... Insurgent groups looking to target Cornet Wales — as his rank is called in the Blues and Royals regiment — would have had a concentrated area in which to look for him."


Meanwhile Private Nobby Crabbes of C "Wumbutu Gorge" Company, the Royal Angle-Iron Rgt (pictured below), eagerly awaits the results of his DNA test he is convinced will prove he is 60 millionth in line for the throne and thus exempt from Iraq service.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign

This past weekend Country Mouse and I travelled up the coast to Moose Point State Park for a lovely Mother's Day picnic with the collective known as the Vallesio Casino. A lovely time was had by all in the Maine spring sunshine.

On the drive home we stopped in the city of Belfast for some ice cream, whereupon I took the opportunity to snap a couple of pictures of two signs that have been making me giggle for quite a while now.

First up we have a sin against punctuation:


Yum! I think I'll stop for some thice cream! What is this place, a snack bar for lisping orphans?

Secondly, across Route 1 sits this joint:


The word "steakhouse" is a new addition. When this place opened last year I was convinced (quite reasonably) that it was a strip club. Who wouldn't be? If your establishment is down a driveway and the parking lot always has a few cars in it mid-afternoon, wouldn't the next logical step upon seeing a fox silhouetted against the moon and the word "Foxy's" picked out in boudoir-pink cursive be to think, "Ayup, that's a place where ladies wobble about in the all together"? I eventually figured out that it was indeed a restaurant and that those mid-afternoon sedan drivers where after the blue plate special rather than the red light one. It cracks me up however to think that so many people made the same mistake as me that the owners had to call out the sign writers. I have this image of some seedy bloke in a mac furtively asking the dining room staff for a lap dance, only to have a lobster bib dangled around his neck and a foil wrapped baked potato plonked down in front of him.

Priceless.

Sunday, May 13, 2007

"WHAT? NO. I'M ON THE KHUMBU ICEFALL! THE KHUMBU ICE FALL! WHAT?"



A British climber is in the closing stages of an attempt to set a world record for the highest mobile call.

I've read the linked story a couple of times and I'm still none the wiser. Why bother? And don't give me any of that 'because it is there" crap. If you want a world record, why not emulate me, and go for "The Longest Time Doing the Twist on a 3'x3' Square of Axminster Carpet"? Although be warned, I will defend my record against all comers.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Blair Quits

With apologies to the Onion, people answer the question- "What did you think of Tony Blair?":

Joe, former head of Staines Polytechnic Radical Socialist Society:
"He showed committed revolutionaries like me that true public ownership comes from a few trusted members of the public owning as much money as possible."






Shazira, Home maker, Blackburn:
"I didn't like his Iraq policy, but at least he didn't ask me to lift my burqua like Jack Straw. I kept telling Mr. Straw I'd remove my veil, but he kept insisting I lift the whole thing from the bottom while he kept his hands under his desk."





Brian, carpet salesman, Dundee:
"He helped Scotland to- er- pull the sword of Wallace from- er- the Stone of Scone with devolution, the first steps to independence. A few more years and we'll be able to declare war on Iceland. Revenge. REVENGE!"







The Earl of Bumchutney-Staines, Countryside Alliance Chair, Quorn:
"Bugger off, townie."










David, Leader of the Conservative Party, London:
"Gosh! He was a lovely chum but not much cop at the doing, eh? Kept a decent selection of yoghurts in the old fridge. Would you like to see my school report? I got all 'A's. Like for always, duh. Tara, chuck old bean!"






George, President of the United States, Washington DC:
"Awww shit. Lost another one. I wonder if that Sarkosy guy likes grits? He's French, so probably grits with cheese."








Margaret, former Prime Minister, Dulwich:
"Of all my children, he was my favorite. Not a blubber like Carol, and not a crook like Mark. Well actually, he was a blubber and a crook, but he was one of us, for sure."






Gordon, Financial Industry, London:
"Sorry- I'd love to chat but I'm a bit busy. Actually, could you give me a hand with these boxes? Moving is both a pain and a joy, isn't it?"

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Sunny Walsall


There's a lot of gubbins floating around from civic boosters these days. You know the sort, the chaps and chappesses who bellow about how wonderful their wee town is and how it is poised to make the leap into the future by becoming "a hub in the knowledge economy with a fully integrated workforce possessing 21st century skills", even if their burg has contented itself with nothing more than the manufacture of broom handles and unwed mothers for the past thirty years. Not that there is anything wrong with a little civic pride and not everybody can be British and reflexively hate the place they live. But even so, it is refreshing to discover that one of the residents of the English Black Country town of Walsall has taken the time to build this rather ambivalent site about his or her home town:

Walsall Wonderland


It has a nice bit about how friendly everyone is, an in-depth review of area kebab restaurants, and a cracking section all about tramps and hoboes. Highly recommended.

Sunday, May 06, 2007

The Full Monty Has a Lot to Answer For

Just look at the size of his chopper

From the BBC:

Firefighters mistaken for strip show
"A group of firefighters were mobbed by women who thought they were part of the act when they arrived to tackle a blaze during a strip show. Female fans clapped the firefighters at a pub in St Helens, Merseyside.

"One lady shouted, we have got our money's worth here," said watch manager Paul Costello.

The fire was accidentally started by a stripper using lighter fluid in his act. One person was hospitalised with smoke inhalation...."


God alone knows how these women react every time they see a pair of mall security guards, walk past a building site, or glance at muscular men trying on velcro-sided trousers. Wang-hungry northern slatterns out of their heads on Diamond White and black market Embassy Number Ones, the lot of them.

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Gawd Bless 'Er

Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of Her other Realms and Territories Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith photographed arriving at Dulles Airport.

Her Majestink the Quink, good old Brenda the 2, is visiting Virginia in celebration of the 400th anniversary of the arrival of the English at Jamestown. As we all know, that hardy band of settlers set the tone for all future British overseas excursions by getting drunk a lot, refusing to work, and fighting with the locals. So it is quite appropriate that Mrs. Queen is in the States, even if the people she meets either think she looked younger and prettier in her recent film or are sad that she didn't bring that nice deceased Princess Lady Di with her.

While the official reason for the visit is the recognition of the long historical ties between Great Britain and the United States, there are some who feel the Queen is hedging her bets should the Scottish elections turn in favour of the SNP. After all, the monarchy is probably regarded more fondly along the Banks of the James River than it is along the banks of the Tay.And Virginia does describe itself as a commonwealth (see Her Maj's title).

The one potential fly in the ointment is the presence of her husband and consort Phil the Greek, Duke of Edinburgh. Given his reputation as a well-known firearms enthusiast and anti-Asian bigot, officials from the Royal Household are praying that nobody brings up the Virginia Tech killings to him for comment.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

I Think I've Wet 'Em...

...from laughing. The whole effect is quite wonderful.

The Red Sox better not lose a series with the Yankees this year, or else I'm in deep doo-doo.
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