pretty much sums up my feelings for @davidfrum
Every once in a while I find something a little insightful from @davidfrum, but then I remember this:
If we’d found a single cache of biotoxins anywhere in Iraq, Frum would have been waving his warrior dick at CPAC last weekend. Instead, we hear about Dick Cheney, and Tony Blair, and how really sorry David Frum is for the hand he played in the deaths of so many people who are not named David Frum.
Kinda reblogged from @mat http://www.emptyage.com , he quoted this section, which is also good.
Shut up, all of you. Go away. You are complicit in one way or another in a giant crime containing many great crimes. Atone in secret. Wash the blood off your hands in private. Because there were people who got it right. Anthony Zinni. Eric Shiseki. Hans Blix. Mohamed ElBaradei. The McClatchy Washington bureau guys. Dozens of liberal academics who got called fifth-columnists and worse. Professional military men whose careers suffered as a result. Hundreds of thousands of people in the streets around the world. The governments of Canada and France. Those people, I will listen to this week. Go to hell, the rest of you, and go there in silence and in shame.
Earlier generations have weathered recessions, of course; this stall we’re in has the look of something nastier. Social Security and Medicare are going to be diminished, at best. Hours worked are up even as hiring staggers along: Blood from a stone looks to be the normal order of things “going…
Love, love love this response
A few decades ago, Ottawa was drastically different: Sparks street was thriving, people were actually living downtown and at LeBreton Flats and a train could bring you to the heart of downtown. The narrow and institutionalized vision of bureaucrats, the rapid expansion of the car use and a generalized neglection of the architectural heritage changed the urban fabric of the Capital. The Gréber plan and the NCC transformed Ottawa for the worst. One building at a time.
Why I hate PETA. Actually, hate is not nearly strong enough a word for completely dickish behaviour like this
time passes very slowly when you’re in a hippo’s mouth.
I had a dream about New Orleans, back before the residents understood that the water table encouraged caskets to sink into the underground channels and be swept away, only to re-emerge at some random location downstream. In my dream, thousands of caskets were drifting out to sea in a long sinuous line, a flotilla of the dead. Ancient, cracked coffins swelled with water and resealed themselves. Desiccated bodies bloated with brine and blew up like inflatable rafts. Animals spotted the line of floating boxes and soon seagulls, albatrosses, crabs and seals rode the coffins out to sea. Far from shore, a ship was on fire. The passengers and crew, the burning ones falling like meteors, dove into the water. None of them had life preservers, but they found the coffins and climbed aboard. In the middle of nowhere, the formation hit the doldrums or a freak outcropping of corral and stalled, massing together, forming a casket island populated by corpses, boat passengers and dozens of species of sea life. They floated together in silence, bobbing up and down in the black water and watched a gigantic moon rise over the horizon.
RICHARD KADREY is both weird and wonderful (via kadrey)
Bicycle people are nice people. Car people are fascist people. They all listen to thumping stadium rock and have no concern whatsoever for the environment. Nobody sums up the car culture better than Grand High Inquisitor Clarkson. The unstoppable rise of Top Gear and the concomitant deification of Lord Jeremy offer indisputable evidence of the way sitting within a metal stink-generator turns otherwise reasonable human beings into totalitarian bigots.