Personal Musings category archive

Most persons like trains.

Trains are fun. The railroad is a fun place to work. Sometimes I miss it, though I do not miss the company that I used to work for.

Then there are train nuts, who make watching, writing about, maybe building model trains a hobby. It’s sort of like industrial bird watching.

Then there are what, on the railroad, we used to refer to as “foamers” or “FRNs” (loosely translated: “freaking rail nuts”). They are the persons who dress up in bib overalls and canvas steam-era engineer caps, go down to the train station whenever it’s open, watch the trains go by, and write down the consist of every train, even though all the cars look alike and were made by the same manufacturer within a few years of each other.

Somewhere along the line, they have lost any grip on basic reality.

You can get the same psychological breakdown in just about any line of endeavor; certainly, you can get it in politics, when persons lose sight of the concept that the purpose of a government is to govern and, in the United States, “provide for the general welfare.”

You can get persons who become so steeped in delusion and unreality that, frankly, they should not be let out without what used to be so graciously called in Victorian England a “companion.”

These people here are bleeding foamers. They illustrate why progressives started referring to themselves as the “reality-based” community:

When the justices of the U.S. Supreme Court meet on Dec. 5th, in their regular private conference to decide which cases to hear, two lawsuits that have captivated a segment of the blogosphere will be up for discussion.

Both urge the court to consider claims that President-elect Obama is not qualified to be president, because he is not a natural-born American citizen.

And why the term “wingnut” is not a misnomer.

The First Thanksgiving was in Virginia.

Just sayin’.

Everyone have a great Thanksgiving, remembering that, however bad things may look, there is still good.

If you have a large enough bottle of Frank’s Original Red-Hot, anything can be made to taste good.

Am I the only person expecting a wave of retirements from the Supremes subsequent to January 20, 2009?

I’m certain that some of the reality-based justices have been just hanging on waiting for sanity to return to the United States of America.

I don’t often visit the Great Orange Satan. I find that it, like New York, is so big as to be overwhelming.

But, this morning, I stumbled across a marvelous meditation on what constitutes American patriotism.

Not the “my-country-right-or-wrong and to-hell-with-you” jingoism of the xenophobes, bigots, and warmongers, but rather the patriotism of those who love the United States and what it can someday be.

Here’s a nugget. I would urge you to read the whole thing:

I, too, love America more than any other nation. And while not a global expert, I have traveled, to Canada and Mexico, and to numerous nations in Europe. For all our flaws, the possibilities open to me here, the grandson of immigrant Jews, are greater than in any other nation. I want those opportunities even greater, and open to all who come here, who aspire to better lives for them and their progeny.

I just heard punditress on NPR say of Mr. Obama, “We don’t know what his priorities will be.”

All I can say in reaction is where the hell has she been the last two years?

Apparently, not paying attention is a requisite for getting a gig on the radio.

Furrfu!

This post from Mithras is worth reading.

It gives another reason to support Obama’s health care plan:

The complete and total destruction of the Republican Party as it currently resists exists.

A consummation devoutly to be wished.

According to the TV listings, Christmas movies start tomorrow.

This

is

not

right.

I don’t think there is a Little Golden Book of Torture.

. . . to this post.

Update here, via Raw Story.

There is still no evidence that any information found in the searches was put to any public use.

Those who would claim that this is Misuse of State Power, as opposed to misuse of office–seemingly in the form of succumbing to curiosity–by state employees, are still without evidence.

Let alone without proof.

Why not bring back convoys?

70 Fahrenheits on Saturday. 30 Fahrenheits with gusting cutting winds and snow showers today. Even the Yankee I was with was complaining.

My body’s in shock.

Why anyone would willingly choose to live north of the Mason-Dixon Line (which runs just north of here) is beyond me.

I am not a winter person.

Every once in a while I succumb to the darker side of my nature and get sucked into some celebritart news.

In one such weak moment, I read this:

In essence both these looks are comprised of a ponytail, a tank top and a casual pant, but swapping baggy sweats for a flattering pair of jeans takes Hilary Duff’s look from a sloppy don’t to a classic fashion do.

Pant.

I hear that atrocity as a term for “pants” used more and more frequently, especially in conversations about women’s fashions (which are often atrocities in and of themselves).

Pant.

That’s what dogs do.

It’s not what persons wear.

Read more »

Unfortunately, I know far more about the dark side of human relationships than I ever wanted to.

But I really do not have the words to express my reaction to this.

Thought I was out of capers. Can’t make chicken piccata without capers.

Capers are the difference between dull and sublime.

I don’t pay too much attention to traffic here at the old website. In fact, the hit counter for the main website rolled over and played dead a while ago and I haven’t bothered to resurrect it. I do this because I like making computers do things. And if I can in so doing annoy some persons in public, that’s even better.

I know that there are a few persons who come here regularly. I appreciate every one of them.

There are also occasional persons who stumble on me.

But what amazes me is that this post generates more traffic than anything else here through searches.

Guys.

Calm down.

It’s a picture.

And she’s dressed.

More dressed than most of the celebutarts I see in the local rag everyday.

What’s all the fuss about?

The Booman Tribune looks at the next logical step.

Personally, I think we must go back to testing for the proofs of virginity after the wedding night.

Lots of rain.

Hoping it knocks all the rest of the leaves off the trees so I can get out my mulching mower and chop them up.

I try to wait until all the leaves are down because I’m too lazy to do it twice.

It is good to see it rescued.

Rescue is only as good as the work we do tomorrow.

And tomorrow.

And tomorrow.

For evil always lurks at the door.

Here.

And the fight goes on.

Via Andrew Sullivan.