Tomb Raider left me alone this weekend. Bad idea, since Spud is in town and… well… that’s an invitation to trouble. I won’t go into details, but this time, we only ended up with some TROs and liver damage. She’ll be unamused on her return. Fortunately, there’s no Palestinians near her dance festival- that wouldn’t end well, other than possibly opening her eyes about the useful idiots she’s chosen to associate with. In any case, cue the old engineer joke ending with, “Great, now I can get some work done.”

Birthdays today include the Godfather of Baroque music; a shining example of the economic theories of Schumpeter; the true inventor of HAL; the inspiration for “I’d Walk The Line”; a true Star of physical chemistry; the spiritual father of Alex Smith; a guy who actually got a pejorative phrase named after him; a stupidly great clarinetist whose wind blew good; a shitty pianist, but don’t tell her father; the only NFL Hall of Famer killed by Nazis; a guy whose life was the perfect arc of successful leftist hustle; some basketball player; and some chick with documented indifferent sex skills.

Mine are, of course, documented, and so are Links.

 

How about, I dunno, “stay the fuck out of this” as an option?

 

Dude, Lesson One in dealing with Twitter mobs- never apologize.

 

On the same topic, our Governess finally says something sensible, so is of course walking it back.

 

Fuck the Quakers and their stupid oatmeal.

 

Personally, I preferred Girl Scouts, but chacun a son gout, n’est-ce pas?

 

Everything is better with monkeys.

 

The academic version of “hide the salami.”

 

“Hey, Old Man, you keep posting weird jazz and bluegrass and prog rock and folk stuff, what we want is roots!” said exactly no-one. So here’s some roots.