Oh, mercy me, I think I shall have the vapors.
Sam and Pap cut through the Rebel crap.
Expect more of this as stupid takes to the air.
The 25-year-old woman stood among the crowd near Fourth Avenue and Madison Street when the 18-by-18-inches drone crashed into a building and dropped into the mass of spectators, hitting the woman in the head, police reports say.
Jonathan Chait contemplates the veneration of the Stars and Bars:
It might seem bizarre to equate patriotism with treason, and to conclude that turning against the symbols of an army that went to war against the United States must lead to turning against the symbols of the United States itself. There is, however, a certain logic to this fear — a twisted logic, to be sure, but twisted by decades of propaganda.
Follow the link for his attempt to untwist that logic.
Learn about the wonderful world of free and open source. Learn how to use computers to do what you want, not what someone else wants you to do.
It’s not hard; it’s just different.
What: Monthly TWUUG Meeting.
Who: Everyone in TideWater/Hampton Roads with interest in any/all flavors of Unix/Linux. There are no dues or signup requirements. All are welcome.
Where: Lake Taylor Transitional Care Hospital in Norfolk Training Room. See directions below. (Wireless and wired internet connection available.) Turn right upon entering, then left at the last corridor and look for the open meeting room.
When: 7:30 PM till whenever (usually 9:30ish) on Thursday, July 2.
Lake Taylor Hospital
1309 Kempsville Road
Norfolk, Va. 23502 (Map)
When I was growing up in the days of Jim Crow, I remember my father’s going to pay his poll tax so he could vote.
As he was not-black, it was routine transaction. Also, as he was not-black, when he had come of age, he had passed his literacy test. Being white was all you needed to pass the literacy test.
The voter fraud fraud is the poll tax and literacy test in updated, modern Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes.
Yesterday, I met someone who had the temerity to defend the Stars and Bars as a memorial that the soldiers who lost their lives defending the “Southern way of life” deserved. She followed that by arguing that the Civil War was about “economic systems,” not about slavery, conveniently forgetting that the Southern “economic system” was slavery.
She repeated the lies Southerners have told themselves and others for the last 150 years so as not to admit that secession was about slavery and nothing else and that the Confederacy was conceived and birthed to defend an evil, the lies that speak of “honor in battle” and dress the Secesh in Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes.
I don’t lose it often, but I lost it.
And I regret it not a bit.
Lies must be called out lest they live forever.
I have had my fill of those who dress the Secesh, past and present, in Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes.
After all, a BB gun is just a toy. What could possibly go wrong?
Police say the shooting occurred while the seven year old was playing with a BB gun with a 29-year-old man who was babysitting her.
If you would defend the Confederate battle ensign as a symbol, be sure to consider those who choose to fly it, for they are also symbolized.
Reg Henry finds literary precedent for the current American political scene.
Just look at our politics. When it comes to peculiar characters, the Republican candidates for president make the inhabitants of Wonderland look quite normal. The only interesting thing about this lot is which of them most resembles the characters Carroll dreamed up.
For example, I can’t decide whether Rick Santorum is the (mad) Hatter or the March Hare. As for Donald Trump, he may be the only one without a parallel identity, but even Lewis Carroll couldn’t imagine someone like him. He is just too improbable for fanciful literature.
But it is not just the Republicans who inhabit the American wonderland. To my mind, Democrat Hillary Rodham Clinton is the Cheshire Cat, . . .
More madness at the link.
The resident curmudgeon at my local rag takes on the trend towards self-indulgent wedding wankery.
As my old boss used to say, even a blind squirrel finds an acorn once in a while.
This is the signature legacy of President George the Worst: