Scene from the last Glibs meet-up.

Off today for another voyage in NPR Ladyland. The last encounter with one was full of fireworks, but not the fun-to-watch kind. Well, maybe it would be fun for OTHER people watching, but… it was bloody. She actually was a Sandalista in the ’80s, truly passionate about cutting kids dicks off if they decided to play “Let’s Be A Fashionable Tranny” with their psychotic parents, thinks there’s actually a difference between Team Red and Team Blue, and has difficulty believing that organizations in the government have an actual political agenda beyond their stated ambit. Now, to be fair, she’s a very bright and articulate woman, which makes this sort of addlepation particularly puzzling. Anyway, today’s adventure promises to be even bloodier- she’s a giant with razor-sharp intelligence who has Preet Bharara on speed dial.

Birthdays today include the originator of disposable cars; a guy without whom Disney would be another unknown failed animation auteur; perhaps my favorite comic actor (as opposed to acting comic); the definitive Jed Clampett; the inspiration for generations of pigs; Sloopy’s fantasy woman; arguably the finest female voice in classic pop; an actually interesting “public intellectual”; a guy who died before he could record my outgoing voice mail message; and a guy who was a real riot.

So I suppose we should have some actual links before the clotting sets in.

 

It’s like they want to keep reminding us of who the shooter was.

 

Pet news.

 

I find everyone in this story to be awful.

 

There’s one or two pieces of this way-overly-long article that are worthwhile, but it’s a great illustration of a Prog seeing that regulation is horribly stupid but is compelled by the worship of authority to defend it.

 

How stupid are people? Here’s another argument for “very.”

 

“…and then they took babies out of their incubators and left them on the floor to die.”

 

I’d say that Old Guy Music is appropriate, wouldn’t you agree? It’s also irresistibly delightful.