Obsidian Wings

The obligatory Catblogging Post...

...only, I don't have any actual cats. This was a bit of a concern, as apparently the ownership of a cat is necessary for both blogging and the writing of obscure roleplaying game material, and my lack of same was a bit problematical. I figured that either von or Katherine would have one, but they've had two weeks to blog about them, and they haven't, so I figure that they don't have any.

So, this is going to be a test of the Emergency substitute Catblogging System. At the sound of the beep, look at Kevin's and Mike's* cats until the feeling to need to read a blog entry about cats recedes. For further assistance, go over to One Fine Jay and see if he needs any help for his Book Cover project.

Beep.

Moe

*Shoot, Mike, I dunno why you weren't on the blogroll, either.

Well, It's Official...

...I must be a real live blogger and stuff, because I just had a dream where I blogged on the Medicare bill. Said dream came complete with a comments thread, trackbacks and a bit of drama where anonymous people were revealed to be other people; I woke up after people started to link to me but before the flamewar started.

No, I don't remember what my arguments were, which is a pity, because my conscious self pretty much knows jack about economic issues (which is why I haven't blogged on the Medicare bill) and it would've been nice to see if my subconscious was any better at the dismal science. There was also a bit about an English pub on a British boardwalk that was really, really good; what that has to do with Medicare is beyond me completely.

I usually dream about stuff much more active in scope, you know. I don't think that I want to make a habit of waking up in the mornings and going "YES! My dreamself tells me that I must blog about the 17th Amendment! Of course!" - or something like that. Is this going to be a occupational hazard?

Moe

PS: And, to all you dream-interpreters out there: if dreaming about blogging about Medicare is symbolic of something else, feel free to not tell me precisely what it is. Unless it's funny, of course.

This is either the Next Big Thing

... or it's not. It may just be quirky enough to take off, though.

Via Balloon Juice (sure, he gets to be on the map. Hey! We're not blogrolled by him, either. Grumble grumble whine moan grumble grumble whine...*).

Moe

* ;)

UPDATE: Well, it's obviously going to be the next big thing, as the labors of the People's Glorious Revolutionary Collective of 'Obsidia have finally been recognized! True, our mandatory volunteer resettlement from Turcitus set back our consciousness, but we shall prese.... aw, who am I kidding? The Commissar's always going to be better at speaking Marxist than I am.

Technical Stuff

As you might have noticed, the blogroll's been updated in the usual across the spectrum fashion. I've been told here by fellow TypePad users that an alphabetizing feature is currently being pleaded for, so I know that advice for that isn't precisely forthcoming... but is there any way that I can dump the spaces between links?

Also, the requests for Posting Rules have been noted; I believe that I understand von and Katherine's opinions on this matter, but I will doublecheck.

Well, We've All Certainly Chewed On The Bush Visit...

... frankly, Right Wing Death Beast that I am, Tacitus' post on the subject pretty much made mine redundant. So, instead, we're going to play a fun game of Anecdotal Evidence. I admit right off of the bat that this proves nothing, but hey: it's my our* blog and I'll be illogical if I want to. It's either this or sit down next to Katherine and start swearing about the recto-cranial inversion problem that Holy Mother Church seems to be suffering from these days.

*This is what I get for trying to evoke 50's song lyrics, you know.

Aids and the Church

I'm several days out of date on this Kristof column but it made me so angry that I had to post anyway. Excerpts:

"Here in El Salvador, church leaders in 1998 helped ban abortions even when necessary to save the life of a woman, and, much worse, helped pass a law, which took effect last month, requiring condoms to carry warnings that they do not protect against AIDS."

"Yet the Vatican blindly opposes condoms, even within a marriage when a husband or wife is infected with H.I.V."

The hypothetical child in question will probably be infected with or orphaned by AIDS, of course, but that doesn't seem to matter.

Would the Catholic Church oppose a hysterectomy that was medically necessary to treat cancer? Would it pass a law requiring doctors to lie about the medical effectiveness of a treatment that could save someone's life, because it would also prevent conception? Because this makes about as much moral sense.

My family is Catholic, and though I'm irrevocably lapsed, I still have a great deal of respect for the Church in many ways and on many issues. But this is wrong, wrong, wrong. I don't trust any religion that values something else higher than it values the preservation of human life.

Raymond Shaw is the kindest, bravest, warmest, most wonderful human being I've ever known in my life.

Britain captures two alleged terrorists, but it's just the tip of the iceburg. Bush went to Iraq -- and kudos for that. Hillary's in Afghanistan, and that's good news for the original (and not yet won) war on terrorism. We compromised on Iran, and, no, it wasn't all part of some master plan. China is threatening war on Taiwan, and we haven't a clue what to do. And don't even ask about North Korea.

I frequently criticize those who advocate unilateralism and activism in US foreign policy. Those who dare to dream that we can remake the Middle East by toppling a single dictator,* or those who, having bullied the North Koreans into a corner, figure that more bullying is in now order. These are strategies born of hope and ideals, which work in movies -- but not the real world. In the real world, we lie down with Pakistan to defeat the Afghan Mullahs, make deals with Iran to contain Ba'athist militants, service the House of Saud because it's better than the alternative. The real world is a choice between bad and worse, where coalitions are useful (if only to spread the cost in lives and filthy lucre), the enemy of my enemy is my friend, and the only interest that we can rightly serve is our own, national interest.

The Bush administration is starting to realize this. And that's a good thing. But it's gonna be a hard fall for some.

(In other news, they're remaking The Manchurian Candidate.)

von

*Yes, I supported the war. But I felt Bush flubbed the lead-up and aftermath (the three weeks between were brilliant).

Happy Thanksgiving

My connection is a bit flakey - visiting parents with an ill computer, so I'll just be brief and wish all of you a happy and safe Thanksgiving. My family has a tradition of saying what we're thankful for, so I'll indulge myself:

I am thankful for those I love, and who love me. My girlfriend especially.

I am thankful for my country, my culture and my people. Even if we are responsible for Barney the Dinosaur.

And I am thankful for my life.

Moe

PS: I'm also very thankful that people read this site, of course, but I didn't want to look like I was trying to butter all youse up.

Thanksgiving

I'm in Brooklyn with my in-laws today. This is the first Thanksgiving I've ever spent without my mother and sisters. But it's appropriate that it be in New York for this holiday, because while two years ago I resolved never again to take for granted my family, my friends, this country or the city I'd like to consider my hometown (I was born in Chelsea but grew up elsewhere)--for whatever reason I'm far better at keeping that resolution when it comes to New York City than anything else.

So in that spirit, and because it's easier to write about places than people....

There once was a man, and he couldn't cry

I am a secret movie weepier. Not secret in the sense that, should you and I watch Field of Dreams together, you'd somehow miss the tears rolling down my face when Kevin Costner asks ghost-dad to play catch. Secret in the sense that I'd never admit that, forty-five showings later, I'm bawling like a baby again.

And it's not just Field of Dreams -- which, after all, is a pretty manly movie to cry at. Heck, episodes of Friends and ER, the send-the-kids-off-to-war scene in the Two Towers, made-for-TV-movies like Not without my Daughter, Spock dying in Khan (the Wrath thereof) -- my movie/TV weepiness knows no bounds. Pretty much every try at fake emotion or chinzy heart-pulling has the potential to provoke a tearful reaction from me. Most times I conceal it, but, even when I can't, I don't admit to it.

Well, no longer. Consider this, then, your "I ain't hidin' it no longer" open thread.

I, after all, cried at Steel Magnolias. And I liked it.