Great, 47 years ago this was an awesome natural path, until Romney (While a senior in High School) and a buddy, took trimmers and cleared out this path. Washington Post said so in in 5500 word scoop
Back from the Oval Room with the fantastic Blonde date. We celebrated with some Hollywood types and some Hill types. The verdict is that Obama will win everything now that he has made a big decision. Biden is happy, too. Clintons are not happy as Obama will have 2nd successful term (after the first successful). He will be on Mt. Rushmore.
Where is Romney? At this home in San Diego. Go home, GOP. It is all over now.
The way home for GOP is to give up. No one in the GOP is in the same league as Obama/Biden.
Remember when America's Politico insisted that they did not Romney and were hoping for anyone but Romney? In fact, was ecstatic over the rise of every Not Romney in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, Obama would not have to face off against Romney?
Good times.
I wish I could take as good pictures as show up in the cafes.
Nuns have no sense of humor. I can speak with authority on that subject. I remember one time late in the spring I caught me a garter snake.
A garter snake is a small snake with a extremely mild bite. They have stripes running lengthwise on their bodies. This one was about a foot long. I caught him in our backyard which had a large wooded lot behind it.
The lot still exists, inhabited by ducks, squirrels, opossums(h/t to Pogo), frogs, leeches, snakes, turtles...everything a growing boy needs.
So I had been feeding my imprisoned reptile crickets, crawdads, and frogs. But I think it was on a hunger strike because it didn't eat any of the things I offered. It did seem to like the taste of people though, because it kept tasting me. It would taste me every time I handled it too.(I say it because though I know how to sex a turtle by sight, I also know how you sex a snake, and there's some things even I refuse to do) Besides, as I said, it was a small snake.
The guys in Sister Allodia's homeroom(she of the marbles story) wanted to see my new treasure, so I needed a few days to devise a suitable lie for carrying a shoebox to school that wouldn't alarm the parental units.(it says something about them, and me, that I was able to achieve this)
So Mom dropped me off at St. Rita’s, shoebox(lid firmly in place) underarm. Before the bell rings, we hooligans(and we knew we were such, Sister informed us every day, several times a day) were in the back of the room. I slowly opened the box, the snake lay in its bed of grass, not digesting that nights cricket it had refused to eat. After suitable oohs and aahs, I replaced the lid, wrapped the rubber band around the box, and left it on the shelf while the Sister took attendance.
Here's were the plans of a second grader go astray. I had successfully gotten the snake past Mom, and into the school...now what? I couldn't take it from class to class, something that hadn't occurred to me until that moment.
Thinking quickly, I made a little sign. "Property of Carnifex. Do NOT open!" Now that I think about it, it probably didn't read "Property of.." it probably said "My box!..."
And do you know what? That nosy nun opened my box! I know! I couldn't believe it when they came for me during third period. And they gave me the third degree. “Did you bring a box to school?” “What was in it?”, “Did you know there was a snake in it?” I got to ask a question finally as they dragged me through the halls, ”What happened?” Sister Allodia, while taking her stroll through the rows of desks and children, had finally noted a box where there had never been a box before.
She gathered the box into her aged hands. She carried it up to her desk, and placed it there. She sat down in her old wooden chair with its steel castors, She opened the box. Like Pandora, she ignored the sign and opened the box. And my snake “tasted” her. Three times. I can see it as clearly as if I had been there. Looking at my box and note, through the bottoms of her small bifocals. Then looking up at all the children, watching her with curious bright eyes. Looking down at my box again, and “Harrumphing” at the temerity of one of her children smuggling something into her room. And opening the box, to 12 inches of pissed off, hungry snake. Chaos doesn’t do it justice.
As nuns flocked to the screaming of children, and Sister Allodia, the snake leapt off the desk and slithered under the cabinet, where it tasted Mr. James, the only male teacher in the school. Twice. That’s when they came for me. After grabbing my pet(who I was secretly pleased with) I was forced to release it into the cow pasture beside the school. I only got tasted once.
I was marched to the principals office. Sister ‘Nanner nose to us kids. She already had the school paddle in hand, fairly vibrating with the need to flog someone. Lucky for me, another crises came up, so she left it for Mr. James to administer the punishment. The school paddle had holes drilled in the face to make it aerodynamic. It whistled in the hands of the nuns, who were experts in its application. Mr. James took me to an abandoned hall, swishing(he lacked the skills of a nun) he paddle back and forth. “Do you know why you ‘re being punished? he asked. Until I had seen the paddle I hadn’t thought I had done anything to be punished for! In my second grader mind, Sister Allodia was at fault. She had opened the box not I! So I lied, “Yes sir.”. “You know the snake scared the Sister, and bit her?” “Yes sir” “You know the snake bit me too?” I had no idea about any of this of course. “Yes sir.” He swished the paddle a few more times, “Okay, bend over, put your hands on your shins, keep them there. I don’t want to hit your hands.” Oh, this was bad.
Mr. James took a few more practice cuts, like a golfer, measuring his tee off drive. “Okay “ he said, and wound up, and swung like Casey at the bat. But pulled up short. I jumped 3 feet straight up, the highest I ever jumped before or since. I turned to look at Mr. James, a question in my eyes. He said “Sometimes the idea of a punishment can be worse than the real punishment. Go wait in the Sisters office” I would have gone to hell for Mr. James at that instant.
I had to wait for Mom and Dad to both come get me. It’s never good when you have to have both parents there. I was virtually ignored while the Sister berated both my parents for raising such a hooligan. My mother was mortified, as you can guess. Dad sat there poker faced while Mom threatened “Wait’til we get you home young man. Your father is going to wear your backside out…” stuff like that. We walked to the car, and drove home, thankfully a short drive because mom never stopped once with the threats. Dad was still poker faced. He’s gone into shock I thought.
Mom marched into the house, and I started to follow. “No” my dad finally says, “you stay out here with me.” So he leads me into the backyards. So I’m standing there, and dad makes a snort, and then a snicker. And he can’t hold it any longer, he falls down laughing. He laughs so hard he can’t breath. He stops laughing, and starts again. Mom comes out to see what the racket is, and is madder to see my dad laughing. This makes him laugh even harder. His face turns red then purple he laughs so hard. 45 minutes later he’s still snickering. Mom is crying because her son and husband are going to hell. My sister gets home from school and is mad that I got to go home early, and finally this starts mom laughing.
So, to recap, me and my hooligans had a good time, Mr. James had a good time, my mom and dad had a good time, even the snake had a good time(when he was released) The only ones that didn’t enjoy the excitement was the nuns…they have no sense of humor
You did these? I'm not much on abstract art but I really like the Burial of Christ. It was like I could see the Pieta, only in my head as opposed to my eyes. Very nice work, I hope you become successful at it. I think you have the talent.
My dreams of the burial of Christ are of stones, the silences, the smell of rocks, being with Him who has not yet risen, in a cold quiet space under rocks.
The dream has come to me often, for years.
For me, these stones, this random architecture, speaks of Cézanne as well as of Christ.
Great, 47 years ago this was an awesome natural path, until Romney (While a senior in High School) and a buddy, took trimmers and cleared out this path. Washington Post said so in in 5500 word scoop
And, of course, the latest turn in The Great Hair Clip of '65 is that the family of the "victim" never heard of this "assault" and is angry at the WaPo for even printing the story.
Disclaimer- I have no problem with non traditional marriages.
My problem is with people who say that their rights have been somehow denied. There always has been an equal right to marry, just nature sent some folks down a different path. My height prevented me from playing in the NBA, and my brains prevented me from studying theoretical physics. The question is always when and for whom does a society make special dispensations? It would clearly diminish the NBA to be required to have a short person on each team. However, gay marriage would not diminish our society. While perhaps not optimal, many children were raised by two aunts or father/uncle in the past. The people have a right to live with whom they choose, so why not just call them an acceptable family and move on? Just don't yell that you are only asking for your rights, since you already have those. Just ask, nicely, for the special consideration which there is no good reason to withhold considering the outcomes of traditional marriages and go home.
Watching the hawkcam, it occurs to me that if the UW grounds were less well-groomed, the hawks would have better hunting. You might suggest to the groundskeepers to let the grass grow longer, do less weeding around the shrubberies, and so forth.
I think I mentioned already that my carelessness killed all the fish and the tank was stripped bare to a few remnant pieces of three plant species.
All that was replaced with six types of foreground plants. Miniature versions of regular plants to encourage smaller fish and that way I can have a schools of them. Two schools of smaller types fish convivitating, which apparently is not a word, among mostly foreground plants. But some of those plants do outgrow their being in the forefront and another goes rampant to the top, sideway, all over if you let it.
Carbon dioxide is moderately sparged and there are high output lights. The plants grow fast so they were planted hair-plug style and they began visibly oxygenating right away. It does that every day automatically but the whole thing is advanced considerably with a partial water change. It took awhile to realize but the new water is aerated and that starts a process involving the filter and hot water is more aerated than cold both are filtered through a stack. Once started the tank takes over and the plants become even more active and all the tiny bubbles that do not rise get recirculated and the whole thing becomes so effervescent that it appears the fish might drown in air. I snapped a few pictures.
The thing is when the tank is topped off then bubbles appear on the side of the glass showing visible evidence of new water. Then they disappear and one assumes the bubbles are gone. With Co2 and the lights, the new water has primed the naturally occurring oxygenation. Bubbles appear on the top surface of some leaves too, then disappear and the bubbles that appear on the bottom of leaves where the stomas are stay steady until lights out and the whole thing stops. Some stomas stream bubbles, I'll add somewhat alarmingly at least very interestingly, from such tiny leaves. I should try to get a picture of a streaming stoma, sometimes there are up to ten of those going on at once and the whole tank looks like a shaken up soda pop.
This path was once littered with rocks and roots and globs of dirt and gravel. At some points the grasses lapped over the path making it unclear to some that it was still a path. Your government has cleared the path for you, scattered the rocks and dirty things, brought a nice naturalistic edge to suggest you stay inside, made it so you will not stumble or that if you do you will not be hurt. Folow this path. It is easy and it is nature itself. Follow. Follow. It is easy. The government fixed it for you. Follow.
It seems more folks are finding the path that leads away from the dark Walker forest into the light of reason, as reported: “I didn’t think I’d ever be voting Democrat. I know some of my friends feel the same way,” says Tim Fletcher, a detective with the West Allis drug unit and a voting member of the association’s political action committee. “But we’re all saying, ‘How can we vote for him again? We can’t.’”
Somebody has asked in an earlier open-thread what was happening with the recall attempt against Sen. Jauch.
Citizens for Responsible Government, the group providing most of the funding for that recall effort, announced that they are suspending recall actions against the State Senator. They said they may try again this summer.
The petitions are due May 18, which seems to indicate that they have failed in this attempt of theirs. They only needed 15,720 valid sigs....I wonder how close they got?
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२७ टिप्पण्या:
I can!
And feeling very grateful that I am not one of those three red-tailed hawk chicks.
They're out there...living on the edge of the ledge.
Great, 47 years ago this was an awesome natural path, until Romney (While a senior in High School) and a buddy, took trimmers and cleared out this path. Washington Post said so in in 5500 word scoop
Back from the Oval Room with the fantastic Blonde date. We celebrated with some Hollywood types and some Hill types. The verdict is that Obama will win everything now that he has made a big decision. Biden is happy, too. Clintons are not happy as Obama will have 2nd successful term (after the first successful). He will be on Mt. Rushmore.
Where is Romney? At this home in San Diego. Go home, GOP. It is all over now.
The way home for GOP is to give up. No one in the GOP is in the same league as Obama/Biden.
Remember when America's Politico insisted that they did not Romney and were hoping for anyone but Romney? In fact, was ecstatic over the rise of every Not Romney in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, Obama would not have to face off against Romney?
Good times.
I wish I could take as good pictures as show up in the cafes.
Where are the prim roses?
What feminist definition of rape would apply to the posting of questionable binary digits when one considers webspace, with goodwill, yet unporn?
"Where are the prim roses?"
Filing their thorns, of course.
I assume someone will be along forthwith to paint them red.
You CAN see the forest for the trees. I guess this means you found your flickr.
I've posted quite a few new drawings, lovely prints of which are, of course, available.
Nuns have no sense of humor. I can speak with authority on that subject. I remember one time late in the spring I caught me a garter snake.
A garter snake is a small snake with a extremely mild bite. They have stripes running lengthwise on their bodies. This one was about a foot long. I caught him in our backyard which had a large wooded lot behind it.
The lot still exists, inhabited by ducks, squirrels, opossums(h/t to Pogo), frogs, leeches, snakes, turtles...everything a growing boy needs.
So I had been feeding my imprisoned reptile crickets, crawdads, and frogs. But I think it was on a hunger strike because it didn't eat any of the things I offered. It did seem to like the taste of people though, because it kept tasting me. It would taste me every time I handled it too.(I say it because though I know how to sex a turtle by sight, I also know how you sex a snake, and there's some things even I refuse to do) Besides, as I said, it was a small snake.
The guys in Sister Allodia's homeroom(she of the marbles story) wanted to see my new treasure, so I needed a few days to devise a suitable lie for carrying a shoebox to school that wouldn't alarm the parental units.(it says something about them, and me, that I was able to achieve this)
So Mom dropped me off at St. Rita’s, shoebox(lid firmly in place) underarm. Before the bell rings, we hooligans(and we knew we were such, Sister informed us every day, several times a day) were in the back of the room. I slowly opened the box, the snake lay in its bed of grass, not digesting that nights cricket it had refused to eat. After suitable oohs and aahs, I replaced the lid, wrapped the rubber band around the box, and left it on the shelf while the Sister took attendance.
Here's were the plans of a second grader go astray. I had successfully gotten the snake past Mom, and into the school...now what? I couldn't take it from class to class, something that hadn't occurred to me until that moment.
Thinking quickly, I made a little sign. "Property of Carnifex. Do NOT open!" Now that I think about it, it probably didn't read "Property of.." it probably said "My box!..."
And do you know what? That nosy nun opened my box! I know! I couldn't believe it when they came for me during third period. And they gave me the third degree. “Did you bring a box to school?” “What was in it?”, “Did you know there was a snake in it?” I got to ask a question finally as they dragged me through the halls, ”What happened?” Sister Allodia, while taking her stroll through the rows of desks and children, had finally noted a box where there had never been a box before.
She gathered the box into her aged hands. She carried it up to her desk, and placed it there. She sat down in her old wooden chair with its steel castors, She opened the box. Like Pandora, she ignored the sign and opened the box. And my snake “tasted” her. Three times. I can see it as clearly as if I had been there. Looking at my box and note, through the bottoms of her small bifocals. Then looking up at all the children, watching her with curious bright eyes. Looking down at my box again, and “Harrumphing” at the temerity of one of her children smuggling something into her room. And opening the box, to 12 inches of pissed off, hungry snake. Chaos doesn’t do it justice.
As nuns flocked to the screaming of children, and Sister Allodia, the snake leapt off the desk and slithered under the cabinet, where it tasted Mr. James, the only male teacher in the school. Twice. That’s when they came for me. After grabbing my pet(who I was secretly pleased with) I was forced to release it into the cow pasture beside the school. I only got tasted once.
I was marched to the principals office. Sister ‘Nanner nose to us kids. She already had the school paddle in hand, fairly vibrating with the need to flog someone. Lucky for me, another crises came up, so she left it for Mr. James to administer the punishment. The school paddle had holes drilled in the face to make it aerodynamic. It whistled in the hands of the nuns, who were experts in its application. Mr. James took me to an abandoned hall, swishing(he lacked the skills of a nun) he paddle back and forth. “Do you know why you ‘re being punished? he asked. Until I had seen the paddle I hadn’t thought I had done anything to be punished for! In my second grader mind, Sister Allodia was at fault. She had opened the box not I! So I lied, “Yes sir.”. “You know the snake scared the Sister, and bit her?” “Yes sir” “You know the snake bit me too?” I had no idea about any of this of course. “Yes sir.” He swished the paddle a few more times, “Okay, bend over, put your hands on your shins, keep them there. I don’t want to hit your hands.” Oh, this was bad.
Mr. James took a few more practice cuts, like a golfer, measuring his tee off drive. “Okay “ he said, and wound up, and swung like Casey at the bat. But pulled up short. I jumped 3 feet straight up, the highest I ever jumped before or since. I turned to look at Mr. James, a question in my eyes. He said “Sometimes the idea of a punishment can be worse than the real punishment. Go wait in the Sisters office” I would have gone to hell for Mr. James at that instant.
I had to wait for Mom and Dad to both come get me. It’s never good when you have to have both parents there. I was virtually ignored while the Sister berated both my parents for raising such a hooligan. My mother was mortified, as you can guess. Dad sat there poker faced while Mom threatened “Wait’til we get you home young man. Your father is going to wear your backside out…” stuff like that. We walked to the car, and drove home, thankfully a short drive because mom never stopped once with the threats. Dad was still poker faced. He’s gone into shock I thought.
Mom marched into the house, and I started to follow. “No” my dad finally says, “you stay out here with me.” So he leads me into the backyards. So I’m standing there, and dad makes a snort, and then a snicker. And he can’t hold it any longer, he falls down laughing. He laughs so hard he can’t breath. He stops laughing, and starts again. Mom comes out to see what the racket is, and is madder to see my dad laughing. This makes him laugh even harder. His face turns red then purple he laughs so hard. 45 minutes later he’s still snickering. Mom is crying because her son and husband are going to hell. My sister gets home from school and is mad that I got to go home early, and finally this starts mom laughing.
So, to recap, me and my hooligans had a good time, Mr. James had a good time, my mom and dad had a good time, even the snake had a good time(when he was released) The only ones that didn’t enjoy the excitement was the nuns…they have no sense of humor
@Palladian
You did these? I'm not much on abstract art but I really like the Burial of Christ. It was like I could see the Pieta, only in my head as opposed to my eyes. Very nice work, I hope you become successful at it. I think you have the talent.
Hello Carnifex, yes, the drawings on my site are all my work. Thanks for looking at them, and for your compliments!
My dreams of the burial of Christ are of stones, the silences, the smell of rocks, being with Him who has not yet risen, in a cold quiet space under rocks.
The dream has come to me often, for years.
For me, these stones, this random architecture, speaks of Cézanne as well as of Christ.
The path looks a little chilly.
Stay close, you crazy kids.
pauldar said...
Great, 47 years ago this was an awesome natural path, until Romney (While a senior in High School) and a buddy, took trimmers and cleared out this path. Washington Post said so in in 5500 word scoop
And, of course, the latest turn in The Great Hair Clip of '65 is that the family of the "victim" never heard of this "assault" and is angry at the WaPo for even printing the story.
Disclaimer- I have no problem with non traditional marriages.
My problem is with people who say that their rights have been somehow denied. There always has been an equal right to marry, just nature sent some folks down a different path. My height prevented me from playing in the NBA, and my brains prevented me from studying theoretical physics. The question is always when and for whom does a society make special dispensations? It would clearly diminish the NBA to be required to have a short person on each team. However, gay marriage would not diminish our society. While perhaps not optimal, many children were raised by two aunts or father/uncle in the past. The people have a right to live with whom they choose, so why not just call them an acceptable family and move on? Just don't yell that you are only asking for your rights, since you already have those. Just ask, nicely, for the special consideration which there is no good reason to withhold considering the outcomes of traditional marriages and go home.
Watching the hawkcam, it occurs to me that if the UW grounds were less well-groomed, the hawks would have better hunting. You might suggest to the groundskeepers to let the grass grow longer, do less weeding around the shrubberies, and so forth.
Think of the chicks!
Take note UW-Mad SSEC Cornell Hawkcam has a secure box with no obvious ledge and has both AUDIO and CHAT!!!
I think I mentioned already that my carelessness killed all the fish and the tank was stripped bare to a few remnant pieces of three plant species.
All that was replaced with six types of foreground plants. Miniature versions of regular plants to encourage smaller fish and that way I can have a schools of them. Two schools of smaller types fish convivitating, which apparently is not a word, among mostly foreground plants. But some of those plants do outgrow their being in the forefront and another goes rampant to the top, sideway, all over if you let it.
Carbon dioxide is moderately sparged and there are high output lights. The plants grow fast so they were planted hair-plug style and they began visibly oxygenating right away. It does that every day automatically but the whole thing is advanced considerably with a partial water change. It took awhile to realize but the new water is aerated and that starts a process involving the filter and hot water is more aerated than cold both are filtered through a stack. Once started the tank takes over and the plants become even more active and all the tiny bubbles that do not rise get recirculated and the whole thing becomes so effervescent that it appears the fish might drown in air. I snapped a few pictures.
The thing is when the tank is topped off then bubbles appear on the side of the glass showing visible evidence of new water. Then they disappear and one assumes the bubbles are gone. With Co2 and the lights, the new water has primed the naturally occurring oxygenation. Bubbles appear on the top surface of some leaves too, then disappear and the bubbles that appear on the bottom of leaves where the stomas are stay steady until lights out and the whole thing stops. Some stomas stream bubbles, I'll add somewhat alarmingly at least very interestingly, from such tiny leaves. I should try to get a picture of a streaming stoma, sometimes there are up to ten of those going on at once and the whole tank looks like a shaken up soda pop.
This path was once littered with rocks and roots and globs of dirt and gravel. At some points the grasses lapped over the path making it unclear to some that it was still a path. Your government has cleared the path for you, scattered the rocks and dirty things, brought a nice naturalistic edge to suggest you stay inside, made it so you will not stumble or that if you do you will not be hurt. Folow this path. It is easy and it is nature itself. Follow. Follow. It is easy. The government fixed it for you. Follow.
Ancient Chinese Proverb:
Even first class shakes in turbulence.
Carnifex
I laughed. The picture of you leaping up in anticipation of the paddle made me snort. Thanks.
It seems more folks are finding the path that leads away from the dark Walker forest into the light of reason, as reported:
“I didn’t think I’d ever be voting Democrat. I know some of my friends feel the same way,” says Tim Fletcher, a detective with the West Allis drug unit and a voting member of the association’s political action committee. “But we’re all saying, ‘How can we vote for him again? We can’t.’”
Read more: http://host.madison.com/ct/news/local/govt-and-politics/capitol-report/capitol-report-it-didn-t-take-divide-and-conquer-video/article_6689d74e-9bb1-11e1-b8a7-001a4bcf887a.html#ixzz1ufJibtuO
Somebody has asked in an earlier open-thread what was happening with the recall attempt against Sen. Jauch.
Citizens for Responsible Government, the group providing most of the funding for that recall effort, announced that they are suspending recall actions against the State Senator. They said they may try again this summer.
The petitions are due May 18, which seems to indicate that they have failed in this attempt of theirs. They only needed 15,720 valid sigs....I wonder how close they got?
Neat pictures, Chip. Interesting.
Today is the day for pretending not to know what will be received as a present tomorrow.
Eves are always exciting.
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