Month: November 2018

What’s Next? Lions in the Arena?

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Months after being smacked down by the Supreme Court, Colorado, the Pot-head State, continues its persecution of the Christian baker who won’t let the state dictate the content of his art.

This time the state “Human Rights (LOL) Commission” is coming after Jack Phillips and Masterpiece Cakeshop because he wouldn’t design a custom cake to “celebrate” some wacko’s self-proclaimed “transition” into another sex–a thing which everyone but fools, lunatics, and stone Democrats know is not real. When Phillips sued the state for persecuting him on the basis of his Christian religious beliefs–ya think?–the “human rights” commissars tried to deny him access to public records.

A judge has ruled that Phillips and his attorneys have the right to see those records; otherwise they wouldn’t be public, would they? (https://www.wnd.com/2018/11/big-victory-for-christian-baker-in-colorado/)

But there’s a story here that needs to be written. The state of Colorado has attempted to ship Mr. Phillips to a “state re-indoctrination program.” A what? Did we all wake up in North Korea this morning? What do they do to you, to make your mind right? Somebody needs to go undercover and find out. But that, of course, would be to assume that investigative journalists still exist. Maybe Voice of the Martyrs can cover it.

Colorado Congressman Doug Lamborn has asked the federal Dept. of Justice to investigate Colorado’s state-run Inquisition.

Hint: If your state or city has a “human rights commission,” it means your state or city has too much money and needs its budget cut.

‘A Lesson in Folly’ (2014)

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They worked better when they had ammunition.

One of my Political Science professors had a thing about this “Dogger Bank Incident” of 1904, in which the Russian Navy, sailing off to go to war with Japan on the other side of the world, mistook the British North Sea fishing fleet for the Japanese Navy in disguise and shot it up.

(https://leeduigon.com/2014/04/26/a-lesson-in-folly/)

The men responsible for this insane decision, Prof. Mansbach pointed out, were experts and professionals–not escaped mental patients. The lesson: Be afraid, be very afraid, when the experts insist they know what they’re doing.

By Request, Masters in this Hall

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It’s been years since I’ve heard this glorious old-fashioned Christmas hymn, Masters in This Hall, sung by the Robert Shaw Chorale. Thank you, Phoebe, for requesting it. Now let me see if I can find the lyrics.

https://lyricstranslate.com/en/christmas-carols-masters-hall-lyrics.html

(Best I can do: none of the youtube videos comes with lyrics)

Kittens vs. Mirrors

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Certain people make love to their reflections in a mirror. But cats make war.

Walkin’ sideways, arched back, puffy tail–the works! Anything to intimidate that other cat!

I think cats would be disappointed if they ever found out what a reflection really is.

The Chapter IV Do-Over (‘Oy, Rodney’)

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From Chapter CCXXXIII of Violet Crepuscular’s epic romance, Oy, Rodney, we pass on to–Chapter IV? Hey! What gives?

“Looking back,” the author explains, “I am most unsatisfied with my earlier presentation of Chapter IV, and I beg the reader to disregard it. Cross out those 57 pages! Pretend I never wrote it, and you never read it! I am deeply ashamed of its unedifying content, and hereby replace it.”

The substitute Chapter IV takes us back to 1818, the year of Lord Jeremy Coldsore’s birth at Coldsore Hall and a rather bad year for Scurveyshire, what with a plague of locusts, a wave of inexplicable divorces, cattle behaving like tree frogs, and other afflictions. Jeremy’s father, Lord Weeping (how did she ever come up with a name like “Lord Weeping Coldsore?”), sends for the ancient crone who doubles as the shire’s one and only Wise Woman of the Woods.

“How are we to bring this endless series of troubles to an end?” Lord Weeping demands.

“I have given this a great deal of thought,” the Wise Woman replies, “and all the omens tell me there is only one way out: you, my lord, must leave your palatial ancestral home… to go a-whaling. Proceed to the nearest port and sign up for the next available whaling voyage. This will snap Scurveyshire’s run of bad luck.”

Settling his affairs unsatisfactorily, Lord Weeping bids farewell to his wife, Lady Francesca–she is the daughter of an Italian nobleman who is, in reality, a shoemaker–and sets out for the nearest port. Here he pays for the inattention he gave his tutor as a child, when he ought to have been learning his geography. Unaware that ports are commonly located on or near the sea, it takes him several years to make his way to Bristol. There he signs up as a harpooner on the jinxed whaling vessel, Jonah Jones, just before it sets sail for the whaling grounds off Greenland.  Within minutes of the ship leaving harbor, Scurveyshire returns to normal. But the Jonah Jones, having taken a wrong turn off the coast of Ceylon, is never seen again.

Lady Francesca leaves Jeremy to be raised by servants and traveling mountebanks and returns to her family in Italy somewhere.

“This is altogether better than my original Chapter IV,” concludes Mr. Crepuscular. “Now the book makes sense!”

Screaming Fish–Really?

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Mr. Nature here–and today our safari takes us to tropical shores around the world.

These small fish, mudskippers, have intrigued me ever since I first encountered them, as a little boy, in Bertha Morris Parker’s Natural History–and in the Sunday color comics, Mark Trail.

But I never knew, until I found this video today, that they could, well, scream.

Mudskippers live in intertidal zones and when the tide goes out, they emerge from their burrows and wander around on the mud, feed, mate, court, and fight over territory. They can breathe air through their skin, like frogs: which means they don’t dare dry out or they can’t breathe; but as long as they can stay moist, they can live out of water. And roll their eyes independently of one another. Like chameleons.

As for the screaming, suffice it to say I have doubts as to the reliability of this assertion. But even without the screaming–they can make other sounds as well–it makes for pretty cool video.

God’s stuff–just when you think you’ve figured it out, you run into mudskippers.

The Incredible Dyslexic TV Western

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If you’re into 1950s TV, you’ll recognize Paladin’s business card from Have Gun, Will Travel. But how many of you know the show only turned out the way it did because a famous Hollywood producer suffered from a reading disability?

Believe it or not, Have Gun, Will Travel was originally set in East Africa, not the Old West, and Richard Boone’s “Paladin” was originally named “Dinalap” and was not a gunslinger-for-hire, but a safari guide. And the show’s title was Have Gnu, Will Travel.

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Then the script fell into the hands of producer Izzy Kidden, who had dyslexia and didn’t usually read scripts himself. But he read this one, and confused “Gnu” with “Gun” and his imagination did the rest. Westerns were the hottest thing on TV, anyhow–the studio could hardly go wrong, offering another one.

What is not known by hardly anyone is that the associate producers had already gone ahead and obtained a tame gnu, or wildebeest, to co-star with Richard Boone. Boone took an instant liking to the animal, named it “Jambo Jimbo,” and used to drive it around in his car. He threw one of Hollywood’s more famous tantrums when he was informed that the new show would be a Western without Jambo Jimbo in it.

The director, however, who had gotten on Jambo’s bad side and been chased up ladders by the wildebeest several times, felt greatly relieved by the studio’s decision.

“No gnus is good news!” he said.

‘Beware! Here Come Killer Robots’ (2015)

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Oh, the things we can worry about! I mean, if you’ve got the time to worry about killer robots…

https://leeduigon.com/2015/05/29/beware-here-come-killer-robots/

Put it on the list with the oceans overflowing, the oceans drying up, transphobia, and all the rest of the disaster du jour stuff.

By Request, ‘Away in a Manger’

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And the Christmas Carol Contest rolls on, with this request by Phoebe: Away in a Manger. I thought this John Denver rendition might be nice.

This carol never fails to move me. It’s one of my very earliest memories.

Versatile Critters

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We’ve got a dog who gets into a car like Jackie Chan would do it, if he didn’t feel like opening the door, and a parrot who draws his own bath water, and a cat who grooms–what was that? a prairie dog or a woodchuck?–and somebody who swims with the manatees and lives to tell about it. Could you ask for anything more?