Broken windows, graffiti, flood damage.

Augusta, Kentucky.

Log cabin closeup.

A sign says: "Log Cabin/1750-1850/Moved from Beasley Creek/Mason County/1974."

Sauerkraut Balls.

Would it be bad of me to say I don't want to eat here? What are you having? The gumbo? I'll have the cheeseburger with nothing on it — except the cheese...

Ferry 'cross the Ohio.

Here she is, Miss America.

"I was beginning to realize that the only way to make this evening bearable would be to ask André a few questions."

"Asking questions always relaxes me. In fact, I sometimes think that my secret profession is that I'm a private investigator, a detective. I always enjoy finding out about people. Even if they're an absolute agony, I always find it very interesting."

A line from "My Dinner With Andre."

Do you use this conversational technique? Do you use it when — like the movie character Wally — you're feeling nervous? Do you like it when you realize that someone else is using it on you?

It's the new Bloggingheads — with me and Hanna Rosin.

Topics:

The cleverness of Obama’s Notre Dame speech
Ann: Obama will be the same as Bush on torture
Explaining Cheney’s growing popularity
The politicization of the Supreme Court as a good thing
“American Idol”: Did the Christians gang up against the gay guy?
Why women are still unhappy

Here's the link to the bhTV page, where you can see some links to the things we discuss, an apology for what you'll see are some technical glitches, and the comments on that site — which will almost surely be people hating on me.

You'll also find the context for the out-of-context "breasts, breast, breasts" clip from back here.

American motorcycle.

In Augusta, Kentucky.

"American owned."

A store in Kentucky.

We crossed the Ohio River into Kentucky and ended up in the town of Augusta.

There's a somber after-the-flood feeling:



(The great flood was in 1997.)

There were beautiful old historical buildings — like the Rosemary Clooney homestead — but many moldy and dilapidated places.

People worked on their gardens, though. Sometimes in an incomprehensibly manic style:



That's a goldfish pond with fountains at the extreme left.

And the people seemed pretty friendly:



And, yes, I asked the man in the elephant mask if I could take his picture. He said: "Sure, let me put the beer down," and I said, "No, the beer is fine."

"His father would refuse to drive him to soccer practice because he thought using a car to travel somewhere to exercise was ridiculous."

And now, 19-year-old Alex Liebman, has taken a year off from college to work on an organic farm.

This will be Mr. Liebman’s third farm internship. He has come to love the muscle fatigue that sets in at the end of a day. The rhythm of farm life is a welcome break from cellphones and Facebook. And the work makes him feel as if he is doing something to better the world.

“I’m not sure that I can affect how messed up poverty is in Africa or change politics in Washington,” he said, “but on the farm I can see the fruits of my labor.”

“By actually waking up every day and working in the field and putting my principles into action, I am making a conscious political decision,” he added.

Are you raising your child to be a farm hand?

Or maybe you are a farmer, in which case: Do you want a farm hand like Alex Liebman?

The RNC takes great raw material and, trying to whip up a viral video, makes an embarrassing piece of trash.

Everyone's talking about this:



Taylor Marsh goes on about the implied "Pussy." Don't even think Pussy along with Pelosi.

Crooks & Liars detects an "assassination fantasy": "we look at Pelosi down the barrel of a gun, hear shots fired, and then watch blood drip down our screens..."

Is there any defense of this idiotic video? Do you look to Allahpundit at Hot Air?

I would have posted this sooner but I ended up locked in a two-hour Twitter battle over it....

Oh. Okay. He was doing important things over in Twitter. Twitter is a great way to get people who write too much to throw much of their time and energy down the rathole. There's no way I'm going to go in there and try to piece together that conversation. Whatever it was, it doesn't matter anymore.

But here's the belated response on the blog:

The RNC does occasionally display suicidal tendencies... but I can’t believe they intended to call Pelosi a “pussy” knowing how offensive it is, how many votes it could cost them, and how outrageously outraged the media would be on her behalf as a way of changing the subject from her lies about waterboarding.

I think they intended to call Democrats pussies. That's why it ends with the on-screen words "Democrats Galore." The idea is: The Democrats are pussies — meaning sissies. But it just doesn't work because that's not the way "pussy" is meant in "Pussy Galore."

Epic poor judgment and incompetence.

"You know that onion from 'Green Organs'?"

Just something I said while listening to "McLemore Avenue" (Booker T. and the MG's) — an amusing recording, but really nothing more than a completely literal instrumental version of "Abbey Road." It's a pretty simple commercial idea for a record — we'll do the songs everyone already likes, play our instruments better than the Beatles (do they?) — plus: that organ from "Green Onions." Or as I like to say: that onion from "Green Organs."

"I pushed him off because jumpers like Chen are very selfish."

Threatening suicide on a bridge jams up the traffic for 5 hours and leads to a new manifestation of road rage.

"Their action violates a lot of public interests. They do not really dare to kill themselves. Instead, they just want to raise the relevant government authorities' attention to their appeals."

UPDATE: The video. Interesting to see how it actually played out... compared to what I pictured.

"When was the last time you considered lubing up your brows?"

This is another little example of the tiny craziness of women's magazines. There's something about the writing and the inane specificity of this advice that just kills me.

The writers are sort of trying to make us laugh — lubing up your brows — but also, it seems, seriously trying to make us worry about something — a "trouble zone" — that we've never even thought about — the skin under our eyebrows. Hey, think about it! Each eyebrow — I refuse to use the word "brow" to refer to the hairy facial arch — has its own mini scalp! It might get dandruff.

And then there is the problem of the inappropriate sexual innuendo: lubing up. I guess they get tired of telling us to moisturize. They brainstorm endlessly for synonyms. There's lubricate. So then let's make it cutesy and sexy. But it's absolutely unsexy. Imagine learning that your romantic partner dutifully adhered to a twice-a-day regimen of care for her eyebrow-scalps.

"I wanted to see how green I could be, how lightly I could tread on the earth."

Living in 144 square feet — and trying to prove the point that that's all the space anyone needs. Indeed, if you've got more, maybe you're "paralyzed" by all of your "stuff."

Though I think Elizabeth Turnbull's house is scary small, I'm intrigued by small houses. So much depends on a pleasing layout, views of the outdoors, and editing one's possessions. And then there's the question of why you are doing it. Are you being austere to save money or because you think it's wrong to consume too much? Is it fun and aesthetically pleasing? Or are you tending to your soul in some exciting/lofty way?