Mamamontezz's Mental Rumpus Room

Blog Filler The Day In Pics

Oooo, how can you look at this and not wanna belt one on and grab a "Damnit Strap?" Semper Fi, me bucko's.

Someone tell the Brazilians this is soooo "last year poor white trash wannabe."

Yes, there is a rumor that Barbeque Beef is on the menu for next week's Cotillion. And yes, when you're feeding that many people, this IS what passes for the meat counter.

Hippies prepare a Human Sacrifice to protest the Cotillion Barbeque-Beef-A-Thon, stating that "cows, are like, divine, man, and babies, are, like so needy and smell worse than, like, we do."

Flock of Seagulls meets Phish?

Okay, okay. Last one.

They're working. They're fighting. They're winning. 'Nuff said. Kick ass, Darkness. Dip one in pigshit for me.

A is for...

Teenagers... Sometimes they need understanding. Sometimes they need a swift cuff in the back of the head with a firm hand.

What on earth was going through their addled, probably drunken, potentially drugged, anti-social little nugget-like minds? Do you think for one moment that they even considered the possibility of killing Lord knows how many people during their little spree? They probably giggled like hormonally deficiant, pre-pubescent school girls about it as they doused one flag after another in gasoline and set it aflame.

This isn't a free speech issue here. This isn't political dissent, or differing opinions, or an act of protest. I agree with Tom Lyons of the Sarasota Herald Tribune when he states, "Those guys didn't set fire to flags they owned in some sort of symbolic gesture. They burned flags that were someone else's private property, something with a value to the owners that goes beyond the cost of the cloth.

But far worse than that, some of those flags were on poles attached to the owners' homes.

Burning those flags goes way beyond expressing contempt in a petty-criminal sort of way. It is a chillingly dangerous and invasive act."

Just because these Anarchist sphincter-boys are young and American doesn't lessen what they did. They terrorized a neighborhood and the families within it because they hate America. Pack their sorry assses and let them spend a week in a glorified Dog Kennel on Gitmo as an object lesson. I'd go into a swoon if some judge did that. I'd be his pet forever.

Ward's Call to Fragging.

When does speech cross the line from political dissent to hate speech? When does a statement go from advocating an alternative political view to advocating murder? Someone, please, tell me where this line is, because based on my person interpretations of that line, what Ward Churchill stated on June 23, 2005 very decidely and irrevocibly crossed it.

Following a lead from Lucianne.com, I ended up Trey Jackson's Jackson's Junction. Let me just quote a small amount of the transcript of Mr. Churchill's remarks for you here:

"For those of you who do, as a matter of principle, oppose war in any form, the idea of supporting a conscientious objector who's already been inducted in his combat service in Iraq might have a certain appeal. But let me ask you this: Would you render the same level of support to someone who hadn't conscientiously objected, but rather instead rolled a grenade under their line officer in order to neutralize the combat capacity of their unit?"

He goes on to add, "...Conscientious objection removes a given piece of cannon fodder from the fray. Fragging an officer has a much more impactful effect."

According to Pirate Ballerina, these statements came during a "forum on Conscientious Objection and resistance to military recruiters in Portland, Oregon" last week. For Crying-Out Moses. What a lot of degenerate, mindless Koolaid Drinkers. You could put Ward's face on a bottle of Crap Snapple™ and those fools would lap it up and ask for more.

You have to wonder how many of these gutless wonders without the courage of their own convictions will take it upon themselves to actually attempt that at some recruiting office. It doesn't take a brave man to pull a pin and roll a pineapple across a small office in the local strip mall. Any coward can do that, and when one does, I hope the law goes after old Ward just like they went after the blind mullah after the first attempt at bringing down the WTC.

Small Rant Alert!

Resistance to military recruiters? Why? Are they wandering the streets in gangs, impressing young sturdy men and women of weak intellect into seven years of Uniformed Indenture against their wills? Have they been seen lurking in the dark alleys behind dance clubs and the local Starbucks to snatch away unsuspecting patrons, lured to their clutches by underdressed and oversexed colaborators?

This has been a Small Rant Alert. Had it been an actual Full Blown Rant, you would have been directed to take cover and listen to Nat King Cole cd's until a level of calm could be attained.

But I digress. Back to the question first posed. When does speech go from dissent to treason, from opposition to the advocating of murder? When does the constitution not cover and protect what is said with the blanket of Free Speech, because believe me, as it stands now, that blanket does nothing more than cover a whore's bed, a bed of hate and lies.

Darling, please pass out the fans.

I do declare this week has been the hottest in ever so long, and it seems that it's going to get even hotter if these ladies have anything to say about it. Cotillons in June should never be as hot as those in August, but I'd almost swear this one will be remembered that way.

The lovely and vivacious RightWingSparkle has organized a goodly number of the debs in her corner of the ballroom for samba lesson.

Across the way, the ever so beautiful Stacy has collected other "Non-Desparate Housewives" for an exercise in logic and grace. Well that's what they call it, but I hardly think watching a dvd of Dirty Dancing will lead to much Logic and Grace inspite of their protests.

MaxedOutMama, forever a deb and never a chaperone, has bribed the combo into playing some Big&Rich and is line dancing with several other debs and their escorts smack dab in the middle of the dancefloor. I knew that rhinestone saddle in place of a mirrored ball was only going to lead to trouble.

And SondraK... *shakes my head* Well, as soon as she gets those garter holsters figured out I'm sure she'll be here with her entourage. That's what comes of having a party at the gun range before the Cotillion. That entire group is probably having their nails redone after nicking them up reloading clips. Some things are best left until Wednesday.

And now, before I become positiviely prostrate from the heat, I will avail myself of a cold lemonade and cucumber sandwich.

I feel so special.

It isn't every day I'm informed that I'm being de-linked, so I must really consider this the high point of my brand new week. All of my heroes have endured de-linkings, massive exercises of indignant HTML manipulation frought with angry words and dire proclaimations of moral superiority. Misha, Rob, countless others, you name them, they've endured these exercises and emerged stronger because of them. Not that I would ever presume to be a blogger of even a near stature to either of them.

Today, in my email, I received a comment notification from MT with the text of a comment left on my post about Yahoo and the death of the chatrooms. Let me share this with you:

"Sorry, I think you're all missing the point...and I'm delinking pretty quickly. The international scene involving the trafficking of children has operated with relative impunity, including in our own country. If yahoo is making an overly "sweeping" move to try and curb the sexual predation of those under 18 I support it. I'm shocked that as a mother you don't have a shred more patience and tolerance."

Now, most of the time when I receive a comment like this I respond in email. I prefer to keep it private, since that seems only civil. So true to form, I formulated my response, entered it, and sent it, only to have it returned promptly by the great and mystical Mailer Daemon of Yahoo in a matter of seconds.

So I've been delinked by someone who did not have the decency to engage in debate, chosing instead to dash in, make their announcement of indignation, and then zip away unscathed and unmuddied by any response.

Well, that's not the way things work around here. You bring up something which merits a response, I will respond. If your email doesn't work, it will happen publicly. So now, in the interest of responding to someone I have to presume is a fellow blogger and perhaps even a fellow Munuvian, the following is my response to the comment posted above:

Point 1: One incident which precipitated the closure of the chat rooms occured not in chat but in a Yahoo Group. Chats which occur between members of a group within a password protected group chatroom are not accessible by the general public.

Point 2: The second incident involved a small child receiving sexually explicit emails for the purpose of enticing this child into sex. This incident would never have happened if this parent had engaged the parental controls available to Yahoo users, or had monitored her child's internet access. The idea that any child under the age of 10 is responsible enough to cruise about the internet unfettered is absurd and and irresponsible. My daughter knows that she is not to login unless either my husband or I are there. She also knows not to respond to any IM's that may pop onto the screen if my husband or I are away from the keyboard.

Point 3: What Yahoo did had absolutely nothing to do with responsibility and everything to do with the almighty dollar. If Yahoo had wanted to operate their chatrooms in a responsible manner, they would have shut down the "bots" or automated entities which would pop from room to room sending IM's to every person on the room list, generally messages of an explicitly sexual nature or containing links to pornographic websites. Over the course of an hour in chat, it was not unusual to receive as many as 50 and often more of these unwelcomed IMs from the Bots. Yahoo did absolutely nothing to deny access to their system to these advertisers, and it is the concensus of many who use the rooms that these pornograpers were paying Yahoo for the access.

Moose, if you read regularly, you know that crimes against children are a hot button with me. But unlike some, I do not toss the baby with the bathwater. If you have one bad teacher in an elementary school, you do not close down the entire school. If you have one groping fool in a Tigger suit at Disney World, you don't shut down the entire park. That is like saying that because Alice in Wonderland is the product of a drug addicted, Victorian era pedophile, no more childrens books from that era can be kept in public libraries.

It is also like delinking because you disagree with one post out of many. Now, had I extolled the pleasures of child pornography, incited rebellion for the purpose of bringing Yahoo to their knees (pun not intended), posted overt erotic stories, or published skin pix, perhaps it would be understandable and even applaudible. This, however? Mature, please.

Ah, that felt good. And so, anonymoose, whomever you are, and wherever you truly do blog, here is my response to both your rhetoric and your promise of delinking. Be well, prosper, and enjoy your life.

Lena's Boyfriend Blues

Lena loved that upstairs neighbor man.
Lena loved that upstairs neighbor man.
She gave him lov'ns
Ev'ry day.
She gave it all,
that was her way.
Lena loved that upstairs neighbor man.

Lena was a woman who'd been scorned.
Lena was a woman who'd been scorned.
Her lover found him
a new girlfriend,
and then told Lena
that it was the end.
Lena was a woman who'd been scorned.

Lena wouldn't let her lover go.
Lena wouldn't let her lover go.
He stole her heart,
and he used her body.
When he moved along,
He treated her shoddy.
Lena wouldn't let her lover go.

Lena put her lover in the ground.
Lena put her lover in the ground.
She put her gun
Up against his head.
Two trigger pulls,
and he was dead.
Lena put her lover in the ground.

Lena loved that upstairs neighbor man.
Lena loved that upstairs neighbor man.
She gave him love
Ev'ry single day.
But when he tried to leave,
she took it all away.
Lena loved that upstairs neighbor man.

Yeah, Free Speech, Right...

Yahoo has closed and made unavailable all chatrooms made by Yahoo users. This comes after a week of problems with all of the rooms, even the moderated, company operated rooms.

KPRC[TV in Houston, TX] reported that in some cases, men were using Web cameras to send lewd pictures to minors in chat rooms with such titles as "Younger Girls 4 Older Guys" and "Girls 13 And Under for Older Guys."

Yahoo spokeswoman Mary Osako, who declined to say when the service will return or why all the user-created sites were closed, said the Internet portal shuttered the service for improvements and to ensure "compliance with our terms of service."

Yahoo requires users to agree not to "harm minors in any way" or make available any content that is "unlawful, harmful, threatening, abusive, harassing, tortious, defamatory, vulgar, obscene, libelous, ... or otherwise objectionable."

Now, for a lot of you, this is no big deal. You have lives which allow you to socialize in "Real Life" with friends and family who maintain similar schedules and have similar interests. That's not the case for some people. The things we received from technology and progress which were supposed to bring us all closer as a world community in some ways has pushed us all further apart, isolating so many. And for them, the chatrooms are a haven, a place where people find others who understand, accept, even guide and mentor.

I used to frequent a room established for persons who live and love within the framework of BDSM. Sure, there were posers and wannabes of every ilk in the room, not to mention the trolls, typically swingers, who would come in to use the room as a Sex Convenience Store. And don't even get me started on the "Bots" that would fill your screen with offers of wild abandon and websites full of every kind of kink for nothing more than your time and your credit card number.

But for the most part, these were and remain good people, Dom, Domme, and submissive, who are intelligent, witty, caring, and willing to take the time to get to know a person and accept them as they are. And woe be unto him or her who would try to take advantage of a younger or less experienced room member. Minors? Minors in the room were not tolerated and were immediately "shunned" by use of the ignore feature.

Yes, it was a tight ship, this cyber-room where I found acceptance and even love for a part of my life I had shared with none before. Sadly, it was scuttled along with the rustbuckets and tramps.

So now I sit and wonder when Pepsico will pull its ads from the walls of Conseco Fieldhouse because they discover some pedophile trying to entice a kid into one of the scores of restroom stalls within the building. Or when State Farm will pull all of the Pepsi machines out of State Farm offices because a minor was approached at a Pepsi sponsored concert.

Why not? Just the threat had Yahoo pissing itself.

~makes mental note: find another isp asap, the contract with Yahoo ends in August~

"Mistress Lila"

Wondering about the Darkness...

I've been out of communication with Darkness, my friend, as he and his team are away doing that which they do best in a desert that's both kiln in the sunlight and freezer under the stars. I have no doubt that he and his team, with the support of both command and the support units on base, are out taking care of the safety of the rest of our military presence at his "undisclosed location."

I see items like this and wonder if the people in the pictures are either Darkness or some person with whom he works, with whom he exchanges his safety for their safety every day. I probably will never know. It's not like command condones photoswaps and the passing of sensitive information with total strangers. I'll never ask. I know better.

In the meantime, every day in the privacy of my own heart and mind, I talk to Darkness and to my perceptions of his teammates and wish them success and safe return. I don't want to have to remember any of them with sadness or regret.

Hold them in your prayers, touch them with your hearts, keep them in your minds, thank them for their willingness and abilities, and take your place at their sides as they do what needs be done.

Ah, soft breezes through organdy dresses...

Oh, with the first day of summer it was time to pull out the white, organdy dress and the kidskin flats. Is anything cooler in the summer than a crisply clean and pressed sheer cotton frock? Not to mention the severe and wonderful sensations of being bound snuggly in that lovely corset... Ah, but I digress.

Ah, and who will be our hostesses this week? Well, I have it on good authority that inspite of her breeding, manners and gentility, Sadie was seen in the company of several unsavories on a quest to procure a supply of genuine Chatham Artillery Punch for this week's soiree. Crystal has the pit dug, the coals lit, and poor Durbin the pig trussed like, well, like a pig for our feasting and luau pleasure. And charparoning this week as well as joining in hostessing is Tammy, who doubtless has thing so impecably organized that it will run itself.

Please, corsets and petticoats are not de rigeur, as it is now summer and not all of you frail flowers of womanhood have the constitution for them. For the rest of us, however, they are more then a foundation. They're a fashion statement.

Save the DNC?

Yes, you heard me right. Save the DNC. Now, hold on, let me explain.

I was making the Pre-Cotillion rounds of my fellow Debutantes and wandered over to Jody's StealTheBandwagon, an excellent writer with strong opinions supported by intelligent arguements. (Blogroll her, folks. You'll be glad you did.) Her top post today caught my eye and made me think.

Just a sample:

Why has the two party system worked so well for our country? Because both parties have traditionally been toward the center of the political spectrum and because the center is where most American people reside. The moderate right and the moderate left have kept the fringe elements of their parties under wraps. Until now. As Republicans, we have a vested interest in the Democrats NOT going off the deep end.

Now, think about this, people. We've seen this in the Republican party as well, with the isolationists, the religio-fanatics (No, don't even try to imply I'm talking bout all religious people. You know who I'm talking about.), those who desire ethnic/racial/gender purity. And we've also seen these members of what Teddy Roosevelt called the "Lunatic Fringe" returned for the most part to where they belong, in the relative obscurity of their own festering, intollerence filled lairs.

As those episodes occurred, we also saw an increase in the Moonbat Factor on the left. It happens in an almost direct ratio to the Lunacy Factor on the right.

So now here we stand, at a moment in politics when we all helplessly watch the left spasm and jerk like some wounded animal, lashing out at all who disagree and chewing off it's own leg to get away from the snare, the Moonbats, which bind it where it now sits. As we do, remember that the political/ideological snare we walk past every day, the one off to the far right of the ever widening path, gets closer and closer to our own ankles.

Jody, you're absolutely right. The Democrat Party must purge itself of extremism or we, too, are doomed to follow in it's footsteps.

36,000

Jack, my regular commenter, my blog-brother at Conservative Insurgent, my friend, sent me a link the other day that so enraged me that I could not even post on it until I had calmed down. The email arrived early Saturday. It is now almost 2am on Sunday. Do the math.

The email was as follows:

Lila, I know just what a hot button child abuse is with you, I have posted about another pediphile caught in Washington and extradited to San Jose, Calif. Here is an animal, no "Sub Human Scum animals don't do this", that doesn't even warrant exposure in the MSM. Like I stated on my post maybe California just wants to release him there, where he is better protected. Or. Maybe he's going to work the day shift at Neverland. Jack

Well, unsuspecting me (yeah, right bullshit on the unsuspecting part) clicked that link and experienced what Kim du Toit commonly calls an "RCOB Moment" that turned into a day of outrage. Let me just quote you a part of the article.

SAN JOSE, Calif. -- Chilling, handwritten lists of more than 36,000 suspected sex acts with boys has led investigators to what may be the most extensive case of child molestation in U.S. history.

The lists, written in loopy cursive on 1,360 pages in seven multicolored, spiral-bound notebooks, have names and apparent codes for various sex acts, according to San Jose police. They were found last month in the San Jose home of convicted child molester Dean Arthur Schwartzmiller, 63, who is now in jail on felony molestation charges involving two local 12-year-old boys.

"If any of these numbers are even close to accurate, then it is one of the most significant child molestation finds that we have ever encountered," said San Jose Police Lt. Scott Cornfield, who called the case "horrendous."

This monster victimized hundreds of young boys, potentially thousands, many after a 1978 conviction. He has remained free, in the community, unreported under sex offender registration laws, and preying on children all of this time. A repeat offender, he is wanted in several jurisdictions. His room mate is also a child molester. He had a huge server in his house and they have no idea what is on it.

And I guarentee you he's in protective lockup. My question is why? Why not just turn him loose in the general population and have done to him what he did to Real Innocents? Let Buster and Leroy share him as their bitchboy until trial. Let it be so bad that sack of excrement needs a Depends™ to keep from soiling the nice suit his lawyer will get him for trial. Let it be so unrelenting that when he passes gas no sound announces it.

Eye for an eye? No, generally I'm not that way. But this cowardly user of children deserves whatever "Hard Time" comes his way, regardless of his eventual verdict in court.

Think about it. 36,000 documented sex acts with children in his own handwriting. That's over twice the population of my dad's home town up in Maine. That's more acts than there are seats at Conseco Fieldhouse here in Indianapolis. If you had sex once every day, it would take you almost 100 yrs to reach that number. 36,000 documented sex acts. With Children.

There's a lawyer, probably in the pocket of NAMBLA, who is chomping at the bit to take that case. There are stupid people on the voter rolls who will get their jury duty cards in the mail for that case who will think nothing of letting this pustule back into an unsuspecting neighborhood. There's a judge who will disallow vital evidence over some technicality or perception of Civil Liberties.

And in the meantime, the police have no way of even knowing who all of these children are, because this monster only tracked first names. Where is the justice for these children? He's been tracking his evil for over 30 yrs, and he likes them young. These kids are now potentially in their 40's, if they're even still alive.

I sincerely hope that some of them, regardless of the pain that must be involved, come forward and bring forth their experiences to help take this animal off the streets forever.

And this, my friends, is why the Death Penalty should apply to more than Murder. Because deep down, in your hearts and in the back of your mind you know that what this thing did was commit murder, the murder of innocence, each time he exploited a child. He deserves nothing less than the gurney and the needle. Nothing less.

Just a little fun...

I have a friend who games, and he needs an "Army" to go forth and battle for him. Well, to build this army, one goes to a website, clicks the button representative of the number spelled out in a grid, and that give him one new member for that army.

Well, it's been slow, and he only had three little minions.

You want to help him out and give him fighters by the score? *evil grin*

Just go here and click the number as it shows. Let's see how many we can give him.

Volitile Babe of the VRWC

You know from reading me that it doesn't really take much to get my thong in knot, and we all know how uncomfortable that can be. Disrespecting members of the military, Religio-bigotry, Racism, these things and more can set off my anger and get me ranting.

But there is one other thing, possibly the hottest of "Hot Buttons" for this late-starting mother. You want me angry enough to break or shoot something, show me an article about a child being exploited by a person in a position of trust.

Sure, the random predators who prey on children are vile scum, shitstains on the fabric of humanity. But none is so evil, so completely without redemption, than a parent or other family member who would use their own child or relative for sexual gratification. This animal has bent, folded, stapled and mutilated into oblivion their membership card in the Human Race.

Want a few examples of what I'm talking about? Merri leaves no question on this whatsoever. Read that, then go hug your children tight.

An Open Letter

Pastor Fred Phelps, you and your congregation at Westboro Baptist Church have got to be the most vengeful and twisted group of misguided and evil pretenders to the Kingdom of Christ that I have ever seen.

I thought that the congregants I dealt with in high school, the students from a local church were bad, hiding stolen items in my purse and then trying to turn me in to the teachers as a thief because I was, afterall, a heathen Catholic and spawn of hell itself. I believed that there could be none worse than the ones who's church expelled an elderly woman because her necessary medications made it impossible to tithe. But you, foul dopplegangers masquerading as brothers and sisters of Christ, you have truly gone beyond anthing I have seen before.

To have the supreme ego to believe that God Himself would strike down an innocent to avenge the insults you endure because of your bigotted and hatefilled rhetoric is beyond the pale. Your "claims God killed Cpl. Carrie French with an improvised explosive device in retaliation against the United States for a bombing at Phelps' church six years ago" are ignorant and prideful. And to exhibit the level of cruelty it would take to go to a place of mourning to picket and protest is reprehensible.

You are a sad and spoiled amalgam of hateful children, blaming everyone else for your own short shortcomings and misfortunes instead of seeing that your own hand holds the key to your own moral suicide.

Cpl. Carrie French was only 19 years old when she was killed by those who would gleefully remove your heads from your necks. She was loved, respected, and was doing what she felt she must. She was not carrying arms against your sanctimoneous clique.

She wasn't representing only the US Government as she served in her desert BDUs. She was representing me, my daughter, and each of you in a war declared against any and all who do not comply with the faith and religio-political views of a group of extremists, fanatics. But you are blinded to all but the minutia of your faith, the dotted I's and crossed T's, and not the message and will not see. You are cowards and perverters who would rather heap more cruelty on a grieving mother than to protest against those who have in your deeply disturbed minds offended you as the only True Believers.

It must be a terrible burden to be the only congregation in all of the world that can claim that mantle. The Taliban also claimed that mantle for themselves. You will find that God will not tolerate nor reward your petty little Taliban any more than He did that one in Afganistan.

Swing Time

Ah, it's Tuesday and I have my dancing shoes all polished and my hair nicely done. Now, if Bubba, my personal valet hadn't burned a big hole in the chiffon at the back of my skirt, I'd be all ready to play. Don't you just hate that?

Well, as I get out the thick leather paddle to get Bubba back in line, do take the time to check out the dance card at this week's Cotillion Ball. Our hostesses this week, the voluptuous temptress Denita, the ocassionally prattling yet endearing and bouffanted Darlene, and the bepearled and vivacious RightGirl, will be donning their honorary tiaras and guarding that punchbowl. No, we don't mind if you spike it, but be sure to bring a better quality of adult beverage, please. The cheap stuff gives us headaches, and there's not much worse than a Debutante with a hangover. Trust me. Bubba's about to find out just how bad it can be.

Did I tell you...

Did I tell you today that I love you?
Was you able to tell just how much?
Could you feel my subliminal kisses?
In your dreams did you feel my soft touch?

Can you feel how your love wraps around me,
how it warms the sad frost from my soul?
Have you noticed the way you refresh me
when dark sadness has taken its toll?

Do my songs drift to you as you're sleeping?
Have they told you I cherish you so?
Have our hearts danced in daydreams and sunshine,
entwined as they sway to and fro?

Can you hear all the joy that you bring me?
Did you know you were sent from above?
Please, know how I value your friendship,
and cherish your sweet, tender love.

We can do this, people.

21 year old Charity Sunshine is a accomplished soprano who sings with orchestras in Denmark, Hungary, and the United States. She's young, she's lovely, she has her whole life ahead of her except for one problem: she has been diagnosed with pulmonary hypertension which is often fatal. There is no known cure for this disease.

When her grandfather told an old friend about his granddaughter's illness, this old friend did what she could to help. The friend, an accomplished musician by her own right, suggested a concert as a way of showcasing young Charity's talents and putting a face to the disease. This friend worked hard to make the concert a success, and took the stage to accompany Charity as she sang.

Charity's grandfather? Californina's congressman Tom Lantos. His good friend of many years? US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice.

They can overcome politics, and have for years. I'm sure they entertain some pretty spirited debates, but when the day is done, that is put aside. Friends first, adversaries second.

Are you paying attention, people? *taps the glass on the monitor* Wake up and smell the coffee, folks. We have too many common similarities to pitch them all aside for one pet issue or another. I can argue until the cows come home over one social, political, or economic issue and still walk up and hold that person close to tell them good night. I refuse to believe that I am unique in that way.

That isn't to say I won't defend myself, or those for whom I care, if they are slandered or maligned. But that includes those with whom I have differences as well as those with whom I share the most in common.

If Lantos and Rice can do this, what's wrong with the rest of us?

Too good to Ignore...

Sometimes I get comments that are just too good to ignore. Today was one of those days.

Now, it came as a rambling, run-on post from someone who used the ficticious name "fire@yaho.com" (must be Yahoo's cut-rate division) on a post about divestiture. But being the poet that I imagine myself to be, I looked at it, studied it, and decided that this must be an attempt not to frighten me from Hell's fires, but to be a Contemporary Poet.

You read it, and tell me if I'm right or wrong:

kill whom u want kill....
rape as much u can....
torture as u wish....
open jails and put under arrest whom u want...
do what u want 2 do...
what is last...

one day u will be necked in front of god
and paradise in write
and hill fire in your left
and your book,
what you have done good or bad
god register it
and wrote it dowen,
witeness will your
hands,
legs,
dicks,
tonge,
eyes,
ears,
many will say yes almighty god this slave he done .....
remember when suddenlly without notification u pass away....
away...
away...
alone in dark,mud,humid and tight grave ...
no body will help u
except what u have done
good or bad....
so think about it brother ,
think about.
if u r achristine,
moselm,
jews.
athiest,
buddist,
un care human,
beware of the end,
beware of the angle of death,
death,
death,

What do you think? Am I right?

Can you copyright the word "And"?

Ah, it is amazing to me just how petty and difficult some people can be. They get vicious at the drop of a hat for the most insignificant things, and actually seem to go out looking for someone to bully.

Let me give you a prime example. The Spousal Unit had been a frequent commentor on several blogs for months when he took ill in November, 2002. It was not long after that, several months actually, in an attempt to give him a reason to get out of bed every day and join the human race that I built him his blog. I logged him into MBlog which offered free hosting supporting a Movable Type platform and signed him up.

He always been fiercely American yet still very proud of his Dutch birth and his status as a Naturalized Citizen. Because of this, I wanted to use the word "emigre" somewhere in the title. Also, as a Loyal Citizen of the Empire, he was entitled to the use of the Digital Cluebat™ when dealing with the stupid, the vain, the morally repugnant, and the evil items about which he would blog. So on that day, sometime in 2003, his blog became a reality. His first address was an approximaiton of this:

www.mblog.com/emigre_with_digital_cluebat.

Slowly, one person at a time, his readership began to grow. Good people, regular readers, began to frequent his comments and engage him in debate. Delftsman has always encouraged those who do not agree with him to come and enter the discourse. If they could make a valid point, they were welcome to do so. If he saw bullshit, he called bullshit. And if he was proven wrong, he admitted it. As far as this goes, he was a much more inclusive blogger than I have ever been.

Then MBlog got caught with their hands in the MT cookie jar or whatever it was that precipitated what they did to all of their bloggers. We awoke one morning, tried to access his site, and it simply no longer existed. All that appeared when he tried to sign in was a screen explaining that his blog was gone, that his archives would be available for 30 days, and that by paying a ransom he would be able to save them from obscurity. Needless to say, because of our financial state then and now, this was impossible, so months of writing was simply lost forever.

Delfts was devastated, so devastated in fact that he considered not blogging again. It took me a long time to convince him that he could always guest post on my blog until we could find another host with high quality and free blogging. He was not alone in this, as I had built many of my "blog children" on Mblog. One by one, I reconstructed their sites at Blog-City, or in the case of Slaglerock sucessfully nominated him for a Mu.nu blog. I also nominated Delftsman, as he was bridling under the constraints of blogging at my site.

Finally, the email came and Delfts had been accepted as a Munuvian and his address was established. He was delighted, and has worked hard to regain his readership and provide a small debating forum for his regular commentors. He still mourned his lost archives, but there just was nothing we could do to retrieve them.

Fast Forward to today...

I wake up after a very short "night" to find Delfts at the computer, upset and angry. Seems that only one person in the entire world is entitled to use the word "Emigre" as part of a blog title, and Delfts isn't that person. Yes, you read that right. Another, from the gulag which is Blogspot, has seen fit to post a pretty vicious little attack piece on Delftsman over his use of the word "Emigre" for the title of his blog. Citing blog longevity as his claim to entitlement, this other blogger has spent more time pissing on Delft's blog than any sane and well adjusted person would. With absolutely no provocation, this other blogger has resorted to name calling and the impuning of a person's character over the use of a single word.

Now, I could almost understand it if this word were one he had coined specifically for use on his small corner of the blogosphere, but it is not. The word Emigre has been a recognized part of euro-based vocabulary for much longer than either of these blogs has existed.

I will not link to this child who shows nothing but comtempt for a fellow blogger over a word. He doesn't deserve the traffic that would result from such a link. But take a moment to go see Delftsman and let him know what you think of this nonsense. After that, it's up to you what you do.

Update... Apparently, I'm not really a woman. So, not only is Delftsman a construct and not really an emigre in his own right, I'm not really a woman. Apparenlty I'm the Softer Side of Karl Rove. Perhaps Dick Cheny in lace and a red wig.

Anyway, this insect tried to up her traffic with a trackback to this post, which is now gone. If you want to see what all this is about, follow the trackback to Delfts and go from there. He doen't mind his blog being a conduit for sewage.

And I did leave a comment there. Not that it will do any good. The blood is in the water.

Update, the Sequel: Yet more trackback pings from the retrovirus of the TTLB Ecosystem. Again, deleted and sent to the oblivion of hell in the bloody clutches of leather-winged demons. In the meantime, does anyone know how to block trackbacks from this little snot?

A twist on Strawberry Preserves...

Ever find yourself in someone's home, and you want to cook something nice as a thank-you for their hospitality? You rummage through the refrigerator or the cabinets looking for something to strike your fancy, something you can work with.

Well, I threw together something this weekend during one of those spur of the moment kitchen raids that turned out especially good: a different take on strawberry preserves.

Take a quart of ripe strawberries, cleaned and stemmed with the little spongy core removed. Slice the berries lengthwise into strips about a quarter inch thick.

Pour the berries into a heavy, stainless steel saucepan with about an eighth of a cup of white zinfandel or another sweet wine. I used Arbor Mist Strawberry Zinn. Turn the burner on to a med/low setting.

As the berries and wine begin to heat, sprinkle 4 or 5 heaping teaspoons of sugar over the berries. Over that sprinkle a quarter to a half teaspoon of cinnamon. Stir this together well. Add about an eighth teaspoon of vanilla and stir again. To cut the sweet just a tiny bit, you can add the tiniest of pinches of salt at this point too. I'm talking a literal baby-pinch of salt.

Let the berries slowly come to a simmer and cook them, stirring every few minutes, until the berries are done and the juices have begun to thicken slightly. Turn off the burner, give them one good stir, and let them sit and finish as the burner cools.

Pour this goodness into a serving bowl and cool it in the refrigerator until ready to spread over hot biscuits, dollop over ice cream, or blend with ice and rum with a splash of Sprite.

Want to make it even better? Toss a half pint of raspberries in there with those strawberries. Blackberries would be good, too. Adjust the sugar accordingly.

Soldier Ride

Wounded Warrior Project, a worthwhile group who work hard to provide returning hospitalized servicemen with necessary personal items, is involved in something very special, something of which you need to be aware.

Soldier Ride began on May 21, 2005 with a wheel-dip in the Pacific Ocean at Los Angeles, and will be completed on July 19 at Montauk, New York. The riders, many of them Wounded Warriors themselves, are giving their blood, their time, their efforts, and their strength to raise funds for the Wounded Warrior Project, with a goal of $5million with this ride.

If you are along the route these riders will take, you can even sign up to ride with them. You can sponsor a rider, sponsor a team of riders, or make a lump sum donation at their site. You can even make a telephone donation at 866 RIDE GI 1.

To see what will be done with these funds, take a few minutes and visit the "About Our Organization" page of the Soldier Ride site, or visit the Wounded Warrior Project home site.

State of Education.

Marine Sgt. Zach Richardson, newly returned from his deployment in Iraq, was refused admission to a 6th grade class that had supported him with their letters throughout his time overseas. Not only did the prinicpal refuse to let him speak to the class and offer his thanks for their support, she had him escorted from the building and then had the poor judgement to offer a "Cover Thine Ass" statement that implied that a Marine could not be trusted not to go into a blood rage and hurt a bunch of kids.

I heard this discussed on the Neal Boortz radio show yesterday, but nowhere I looked provided me with any information. Even Boortz didn't add it to his Newz yesterday. Today, he discussed it again, and this time provided a little more information.

This principal has at least one of several potential things wrong with either her thought processes or her judgement. Her refusal to act on the submitted request by the teacher to have the Marine as a guest speaker shows a general disrespect for the staff beneath her in the school's chain of command, as well as an inappropriate use of passive agressive behaviors to artificially and coercively maintain control of those beneath her. When her behaviors were pointed out as inappropriate by strangers and outsiders to her superiors, she attempted to justify them and bolster her position by fabricating a statement making unfounded inuendos against a servicemember and falsely implying that any association between the servicemember and the class would be damaging to the students.

This is why I shudder every day when I send my daughter to a public school.

This is why after three years toward an education degree I called "Bullshit" and left the program.

This is why it isn't the sheepskin on the wall that makes an administrator, or a manager, or a principal.

The school board in Greensboro, GA needs to tell this principal to prepare a written apology, not just to Sgt Richardson, but to each and every student she maligned as being too fragile or unstable to be in the company of a Patriot. She also needs to prepare a similar letter to each parent who has ever served or is currently serving, apolgizing for her lack of respect for their sacrifices to ensure her safety and even her educational opportunities at a time in the past when military personnel enforced court ordered desegration across the country, particularly in the south.

Lance Cpl Ryan Autery

Yes, I realize it's summer vacation and the kids are out of school and running wild in the neighborhood. The days keep getting warmer, the nights keep getting shorter, and your budget is as strapped as it ever was. Mine too, trust me. But it's time again for a little nudge from The Blog Mama to open your wallets and do something good with that extra dollar or two that you were only going to blow on a pack of cigarettes anyway.

I have not kept up with Lance Cpl. Ryan Autery for the past few months. Other things kept popping up. But today I decided to do a Google and see how this young man was doing. I am deeply concerned at what I found.

According to the Daily News Journal article writen May 29, Lance Cpl. Autery has been diagnosed with traumatic brain injury, the combat equivalent of shaken baby syndrome. For nine months of treatement for his orthopedic injuries, no doctor diagnosed this. Now, at this late time, they have an explanation as to why he cannot remember conversations or events, even recent ones.

To his parents, I cannot imagine the frustration and anger you must have felt when a diagnosis was finally made. But now you know. That has to be better than always wondering.

To all of you, this new development cannot be a good one for the Autery finances. Forego one pack of cigarettes, one popcorn at the movies, one video rental and do what you can. A hundred $1 checks will do as much as two larger ones. It all spends, it all pays bills, it all helps.

I hope this information is still current. If not, they will surely forward any donations approprately. Make checks to ''Ryan A. Autery Medical Transition Fund'' and send donations to: Bank of America, Nissan Banking Center, Attn: Mark Combs, P. O. Box 2206 Smyrna, Tenn. 37167. Please include Combs' name in the address.

Brave Woman.

Judith Kuntz, 64, a widow and a resident Brevard County, Florida is a braver woman than most and apparently a damned good shot.

She was in her bedroom late at night, in a house where she lives alone. The man who broke into it, a Jessie Preston who will now forever be 33 years old inspite of some obvious decay, made so much noise as he broke into her house that it awoke not only Mrs. Kuntz but her next door neighbor as well. And when this confused and misunderstood recent arrival from Michigan (where, we might add, he has a lengthy criminal record including such things as "property crimes and domestic violence") appeared in Mrs. Kuntz's bedroom doorway with his flashlight, she was prepared for him. The muzzle flash of a .38 is a beautiful thing in the dark.

One shot, one kill. I know trained professionals who couldn't do that under pressure.

One less assault/burglary/battery/you name it, waiting to happen and walking the streets of Brevard County.

Good Job, Mrs. Kuntz. You didn't cower and whimper and hope the police got there in time, then sue them from your hospital bed. You didn't wait to end up a sad statistic in the morning paper. I only hope that if I'm ever placed in that situation, I can perform as well under pressure as you did.

Score: Goblins, 0. Mrs. Kuntz, 1.

Good Day, and Welcome

Welcome, new readers, one-time readers, and perusers of the Cotillion. Enjoy your stay and read a bit. There's lot to see, as this woman is no One Trick Pony.

Sadly, I cannot get the blogroll to work, so Click Here to return to the Cotillion.