Uhhhh …. Smack My Bitch Up meets … Beatlemania?!?!

May 18, 2013

Instapundit just posted this (yes, I blame a middle-aged law prof for providing this vidya to you, said reader):

Beatles fans and Prodigy fans unite – this is where the sauce is made.

FWIW – I was in my final year in college when “Smack My Bitch Up” came out, and MTV – yes, MTV – wouldn’t show it until after … 10 PM or so? Whatever. The vidya was awesome then and this mashup is awesome now.

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POTUS and Hillary talked at 10 pm on 9/11/12? Well, don’t I feel silly

May 18, 2013

What?

In a must-read piece at NRO, Andrew McCarthy posits that were he investigating the Benghazi affair, he’d begin by zeroing in on the 10 pm phone call between Hillary Clinton and POTUS Obama the night of 9/11/12.

Again – what?

This is one story I’ve followed closely and remain strong in my feeling that this is the nastiest of all scandals plaguing the White House. I admit ignorance – I had no idea there was such a call. One of the enduring mysteries of Benghazi is, at least optically, the curious absence of POTUS Obama for eight hours as the siege took place. McCarthy, with what now appears to be, er, obvious sourcing, demolishes the idea that the POTUS was out of the loop, asleep, etc. To be clear on this, El Rushbo himself repeatedly went to the idea of ‘where was the President’ all last week during his show – no one on the Conservative side of things (and duh, the Liberal side) has focused on this.

It keeps getting worse – I cut a chunk, but click and read the whole piece:

I had the good fortune to be trained in Rudy Giuliani’s U.S. attorney’s office in Manhattan. Rudy famously made his mark by making law enforcement reflect what common sense knew: Enterprises take their cues from the top. Criminal enterprises are no different: The capos do not carry out the policy of the button-men — it’s the other way around.

So if I were investigating Benghazi, I’d be homing in on that 10 p.m. phone call. That’s the one between President Obama and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton — the one that’s gotten close to zero attention.

via The 10 P.M. Phone Call | National Review Online.


The Empath’s Dilemma

May 18, 2013

Two vignettes, both true, that occurred recently.

On St. Patrick’s Day, I was at a restaurant downtown and stepped outside for a cigarette. It wasn’t the best day for St. Pat’s, as it was extremely windy and cold for that time of year, and it landed on a Sunday. There wasn’t a lot of street traffic. I was standing in a doorway to be out of the wind, and a guy on a flip-phone passed by and glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. He walked a few more feet, got off his phone, turned around and I knew he was about to ask me for money. He began by asking me if he knew where he could get something to eat, an odd thing on a Sunday St. Pat’s since there’s any number of missions and churches downtown (to say nothing of a YMCA) and he clearly wasn’t Hungry. He then began his sob story about losing his job and needing to take care of his wife and kids (they weren’t with them and he didn’t wear a wedding ring) and he insisted he wasn’t asking for money even though of course he was asking for money, and when he finally got around to asking for it, it was so he could “get a couple tacos at Taco Bell,” no mention of his family at this point. Rare is the day that I carry cash with me and I never give money to panhanlders, but I happened to have two ones and a five, and not even feeling generous, just to end the lie that was unfolding before me – he continued to insist he felt bad about asking for money even though he was asking for money – I pulled out my wallet, where the $7 was clipped to the back. I gave him the two ones, and he looked expectantly at the five. “Nope,” I said, “that’s mine.” He looked disappointed, said thank you, and went on his way, probably to laugh with his friends how he’d just conned me out of $2. Happily for him, he didn’t try to actually rob me since I had a blackjack on me.

In the city today, it’s 95 and humid – hottest day of the year by far, so far – and at every Insterstate off-ramp there are more beggars than usual, all with their cardboard signs. Like anyone who lives in a city, I’m for the most part immune to this stuff. The last off-ramp I was on today, there was a very ragged, very thin guy who looked about my age and he had his dog with him, the best friend to all hobos and, right or wrong, a prop that will make me pay closer attention to them. The guy in front of me gave him a dollar. Because I work out of a car most of the time, I carry cases of bottled-water and bottled tea, so I thought I’d try something. I grabbed 16-ounce bottle of Lipton sugar-free out of one of the cases and rolled down the window. “You want a bottle of tea?” I asked him, and he said “absolutely.” He took it, thanked me, said “god bless” and had downed half of it by the time he got back to where he was sitting. He even patted his dog. The man looked my age – he could’ve been in his twenties for all I know – but his bear was long and straggled, his clothes were very worn and very dirty, and he was tan, tattooed and thin. If he was playing destitute or shit-outta-luck, he was doing a Method actor’s performance.

Thus, I might have found a small, personal solution to what I refer to as The Empath’s Dilemma.

==

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Steyn lands a punch

May 17, 2013

Three quick comments to precede this prescient column by Mark Steyn, his best work in ages.

1) Benghazi remains the real story – so much of a clusterfuck is it that a planted question last Friday led to this story getting out. As ugly as it is, it’s still meant as cover for the Benghazi shenanigans. The GOP would be wise to keep their eye on the far-more combustible story that involved four Americans getting killed and the political cover-up that was meant to save the faces of, respectively, POTUS and SecState. I keep hearing how GOPers shouldn’t make this political, and my response is simple: why not, since the Administration made it political from the get-go, never concerned with the facts on the ground or how they might affect the actual people on the ground?

2) Standing alone, away from the other myriad of “scandals” (a better term would be “civic atrocities”), the IRS story will continue to grow legs because of how patently evil the IRS people come off, and not because their chosen route in life was enforcement of the tax code. Steven Miller, who testified before the House Ways & Means Committee today, came off as arguably the most unsympathetic figure to testify before a Congressional Committee in televised American history. In a nobler day, he’d have been garrisoned before appearing in front of a firing squad at sunrise for his utter contempt for the body questioning him – a body that represents us, mind you.

3) The naked ugliness of Benghazi and the IRS stories remains that both were meant to ensure the re-election of the tin-pot, banana-republic figurehead at the top of the ticket. I don’t doubt POTUS knew more than a few of the details of this business – I’ve always questioned his intelligence, but I’m starting to wonder if he’s the most intellectually incurious figure to ever darken the door of the Oval Office. Sold as this kind of hyper-intellectual-intellectual’s-intellectual, I’d be mighty curious to know when the last time this halfwit actually read a book from cover-to-cover. Maybe Katie Couric can score and interview with him and find out what new publications he reads? A boy can dream, no?

Miss Strassel wrote that on April 26, 2012. Five weeks later, one of the named individuals, Frank VanderSloot, was informed by the IRS that he and his wife were being audited. In July, he was told by the Department of Labor of an additional audit over the guest workers on his cattle ranch in Idaho. In September, he was notified that one of his other businesses was to be audited. Mr. VanderSloot, who had never previously been audited, attracted three in the four months after being publicly named by el Presidente. More to the point he attracted that triple audit even though Miss Strassel explicitly predicted in America’s biggest-selling newspaper that this was exactly what the Obama enforcers were going to do. The “separate, sinister entity” of the government of the United States went ahead anyway. What do they care? If some lippy broad in the papers won’t quit her yapping about it, they can always audit her, too — as they did to Miss Strassel’s sometime colleague Anne Hendershott, a sociology professor who got rather too interested in Obamacare and wrote about it in the Journal and various small Catholic publications. The IRS summoned Professor Hendershott to account for herself, and forbade her husband from accompanying her, even though they filed jointly. She ceased her political writing.

via The Autocrat Accountants | National Review Online.


Frances Ha wut???

May 16, 2013

Sis passed this along, and I post it here because it’s Noah Baumbach, who directed Kicking and Screaming, the L’Atalante of films about Gen-Xers afflicted with post-college stress. As I was telling Sis tonight, Baumbach tops the list of talented hipster directors on the popular radar: I like him better than Whit Stillman and Wes Anderson, people who might hate being grouped together:

But as it turns out, “Frances Ha” is absolutely charming: funny, sad, cringe-inducing and heartbreaking but, above all, brimming with authenticity, thanks in large part to a winning star turn from indie darling Greta Gerwig. This is a great showcase for Gerwig’s abiding naturalism; not a single moment from her feels cutesy, self-conscious or false.

She and director Noah Baumbach, who worked together on the 2010 comedy “Greenberg,” co-wrote the script, creating a sense of realism through a series of absurd moments. Frances is goofy and guileless, awkward and affectionate but clearly decent-hearted to the core, which only makes her misadventures more agonizing and makes you root harder for her to find true happiness.

via ‘Frances Ha’ Review: Greta Gerwig Shines In Charming, Hopeful Comedy.


RSM’s vgood narrative about being the father of a soldier going through jump school

May 16, 2013

Read it all – gripping prose:

Private McCain called Tuesday night and, after talking to Mom a while, talked to me and told me stuff he didn’t want to tell Mom, who worries enough for the whole family. Attrition due to injuries is not uncommon in Jump Week. By the time they finished the third jump, Private McCain said, they’d subtracted about 20 troops, mostly because of sprained ankles, but also two or three broken legs and at least one concussion. Additionally, there were a couple “refused jumps,” which boggled my son’s mind: “You make it this far and then, you won’t jump?”

via One More Jump … : The Other McCain.


Theater Night: Vigilantes 1, Vulgarians 0 | National Review Online

May 16, 2013

Musicals aren’t my thing – I’m a Ballet Man. Although I normally sit in the so-called Golden Triangle on the floor of Tulsa’s PAC, I have sat in the Mezzanine on occasion, and from there, I can see every blue/white screen in use on the floor during the production of whichever classical ballet I happen to be watching. Because I’m not a violent man, I grin and seethe and bear it; were I a violent man, I believe either draw-and-quartering or head-on-a-pike would be the appropriate treatment of people who light up their SmartPhones while everyone else is trying to enjoy, without distraction, the beauty of the production. Kevin Williamson found a nice medium – after intermission and a woman who wouldn’t stop using her phone, well, he grabbed it and tossed the fucker across the room. The man deserves a permanent seat on the board of the National Endowment of the Arts:

I had a genuinely new experience at the theater tonight: I was thrown out.

The show was Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812, which was quite good and which I recommend. The audience, on the other hand, was horrible — talking, using their phones, and making a general nuisance of themselves. It was bad enough that I seriously considered leaving during the intermission, something I’ve not done before. The main offenders were two parties of women of a certain age, the sad sort with too much makeup and too-high heels, and insufficient attention span for following a two-hour musical. But my date spoke with the theater management during the intermission, and they apologetically assured us that the situation would be remedied.

via Theater Night: Vigilantes 1, Vulgarians 0 | National Review Online.


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