Friday, August 06, 2010


That would be me.

Just not into blogging so much lately, as I try to sort out domestic concerns and events, not least of which is the arrival of her Royal Highness, the First Granddaughter!!!!! She's over two months old now (having arrived on performance day of the Chester Play of the Resurrection), but I've been awfully busy buying Everything Pink in the World.©*

These happy events were followed in a few weeks by the peaceful death of my Dear Old Dad, who crossed over the final river to rest in the shade of the trees, in the dress of a
true Knight of Columbus, draped in the colors of a true patriot.

Taps sounded at the graveside, and seven staggeringly accomp
lished grandchildren stood by, including three in uniform (one fresh off several planes from Afghanistan), marking the end of a great American life, one 88-year chapter in a great American story that began on steamships from Europe, touching base at Ellis Island, heading west to till the soil of Minnesota and grease the wheels of the iron horse.

It was his time to go
-- I only regret that he could not live to see the tiller of Old Ironsides restored into the hands of a President who loves the homeland as much as he did. Let's all pull together, do our duty, and see if we can provide that posthumous gift.

Requiescat in pace, sed Semper paratus.

In the interim, the great unravelling continues.



When the disastrous, preposterous decision in a San Francisco court, declaring the traditional definition of marriage to be unconstitutional, travels to the Supreme Court of the United States (as it inevitably will), the decision will be endorsed by the feckless running-dog-lacky leftist moo-cow Elena Kagan, latest ninny to have been Obama'd to the top bench.

The California judgment itself is best analyzed by the legal beagles from
Power Line here. Money quote:
Conservatives have long said that the day would come when liberal judges declare the Constitution unconstitutional. That happened today, when a gay federal judge in San Francisco, relying on the opinions of mostly-gay "expert" witnesses, ruled that an amendment to the California constitution, which was adopted in perfectly proper fashion by a substantial majority of voters, is "unconstitutional." In this context, unconstitutional means "unpopular with me and my friends."


Some ninnies are more lethal than others.

Triplets separated at birth?

It's hard to believe you could reach this level of callous, corrupt, and stupid in only 22 years, but SPC Bradley Manning managed it with bells on.

Stationed in Iraq, but obviously (as it were) under-occupied, this little dweeb took home his paycheck while leaking classified documents to rabidly anti-war blog-ojevich Julian Assange, co-founder and editorial arbiter of Wikileaks (find it yourself -- I ain't helpin').

The unfortunately-named Assange has made his
Wikileaks an ill-fitting internet diaper which collects processed crap and dribbles it out where it can make the biggest mess, up to and including causing people to die. But what the hell -- that's "collateral damage" of a sort that doesn't bother him. Only collateral damage caused by American military personnel bothers him. Except when it's caused by Bradley Manning.


Manning's relationship with Wikileaks is described here at Confederate Yankee, which, it grieves me to say, is the first site I found in two pages of Google listed sites about SPC Manning that weren't defending and celebrating the malicious brat's rank treachery. Well, go ahead and heap honors on this scumbucket, internet barkers, you won't be on the jury that sentences him to a lifetime at Leavenworth. (Which would be merciful -- he should be shot. And not because he appears to be a gay activist -- we'll just take that as a huge slab of irony.)

Interesting footnote: the treacherous little sh#t had the foresight (?) to use the name "Bradass87" as his internet moniker. No sh*t, ya little sh&t.


I put a trademark on that phrase because, in my mind, it belongs to the least likely candidate I can think of. More years ago than I care to count, I made a beautiful costume for the actor playing Dumaine in a production of Love's Labour's Lost. It wasn't actually pink, more peachy really, with lots of lace and faille and silver braid -- and he looked splendid in it with his pale skin and thick black hair. He came in one night, in a festive mood, to check his costume out of the costume shop -- he swaggered up to the desk, flashed a toothy smile, and asked for "everything pink in the world."

I'll try to get a photo of just what he was talking about. But try to picture it on this guy.

Or this one.

This one? Well, he does go in for those crimson suits....

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