Not an Easter basket

A while ago I was at one of the lengthier stoplights a couple of blocks from my flat & I noticed this woman waiting to cross the street:

Not much of a fashion plate, but I purely admire her ingenuity vis-à-vis after-market storage accessories on her bike.

Matters of Supreme importance

In case you’ve been in a Nepali monastery for the past week or so with the battery on your iPad completely drained, the Supreme Court of the US is hearing arguments on two cases involving how governments accommodate (or don’t) the institution of marriage. Specifically, whether states can enact laws banning same-sex marriage (California’s Proposition 8, from 2008), and whether the Federal government can define a marriage as being solely between one man and one woman (the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) of 1996).

There’s not been such a potential for blushes and sly asides in the Court since the Supremes in 1964 took on the issue of determining what pornography is. (Okay, officially that was a ruling that obscenity wasn’t in fact free speech and was therefore not protected under the provisions of the First Amendment. But you’ll perhaps recall the high point of that case was Justice Potter Stewart’s admission that pornography was bloody difficult to define legally, “but I know it when I see it.”)

You can find coverage on the arguments pretty much anywhere in the mainstream media and the lunatic fringe. I like two speculative viewpoints: Andy Borowitz’s “report” of Antonin Scalia throwing a hissy fit at having to hear about gay couples all week long, And The Onion’s “story” about the entire Court engaging in a gigantic yawn and proclaiming that the whole same-sex marriage thing is a big drink of no-alcohol beer.

So far I’ve not seen any comment on the fact that six guys in dresses form the majority of the team that’s going to decide these issues. I guess that’s what I’m here for—to point out important things like that.

Cleanup in the bakery aisle

While I was in Sedona at Christmas, I went into a gourmet-type grocery store & had a bit of a nose around. I’m always interested in these things, particularly the meat market, fish counter the & bakery area.

I have to say that when I saw these “savory scones” I was absolutely poleaxed.

I mean, the confluence of the various colored bits & the rough-edged mounds of drop scones…well, frankly, it looks like little slightly-tidied-up scoops of vomit.

Just sayin’…

Fast times

Britain’s The Telegraph has pretty much raised the practice of writing obituaries to a high art. You know you’re in the groove when they collect your stuff and sell them in book form. Multiple volumes’ worth.

It was the Torygraph’s obit of Elizabeth Taylor that I used to anchor my thoughts on that classy dame, and you can easily spend hours just clicking through their various retrospectives. Makes a nice change from the quasi-literate stuff a lot of news outlets pump out these days.

A few days ago a friend forwarded this obituary of a bloke I’d never heard of, but whom I wished I’d stood next to at a bar after reading it. I mean—the guy’s a cat burglar, for crying out loud. I didn’t even know we still had cat burglars—although, I suppose one could infer, with this obit, that we don’t, that it’s a dying trade. Like carriage makers, or pocket calculator manufacturers.

Well, the thing that struck me about this piece was the phrase “flashy cars and fast women”. And I wondered, Are those modifiers interchangeable? Could it be “fast cars and flashy women” and still mean the same thing?

For that matter, what, exactly is a fast woman? Is being a fast woman a good thing? Does your answer to that depend on whether you're a woman or a man? Is there such a thing as a fast man? If so, does it carry the same connotations as the female designation? Is calling some chick a “fast woman” equivalent to saying “she’s no better than she should be”? If so, how good should she be?

(Sidebar inquiry: why is it you never hear anyone remark, “He’s no better than he should be”?)

In “Early Mornin’ Rain”, Gordon Lightfoot tells us, “The liquor tasted good and the women all were fast.” I have a feeling that this doesn’t refer to their mental acuity.

Either way, I’m thinking I don’t qualify. I find this oddly dispiriting.

I’m betting that fast women may or may not come to good ends; but their passing will be noted in The Telegraph.

Springtime for Hitler & Google

You know, that one clip from the film Downfall has to be the most recycled Academy Award nominee in history. It’s got more incarnations than the inhabitants of a large Tibetan monastery. You know the one: where Hitler is huddled in the Führerbunker deploying non-existent armies in the defense of Berlin while waiting for the Old Gods to smite the Red Army for good and all.

I myself have brought a couple to your attention: the one purporting to have our Adolf going mental at discovering CalTrans is going to close the 405 Freeway in LA, resulting in Carmageddon. He asks the eternal question: how’s he supposed to get to LAX? “Fucking Sepulveda? Please!”

I feel his pain.

And the one where he’s just learned what real defeat is: when your software hosting provider screws the pooch and you take a look at the fine print of your service level agreement (SLA). The thought of Hitler and Goering starting out programming in COBOL is just cherce.

But Third Reich 2.0’s latest installment (that I know of, as of this writing) gives new meaning to the tagline, “Don’t be evil.” It.has our intrepid Nazi receiving the news that Google Reader is shutting down, because the monolith needs to focus on a few products, like Google Glass. 

“Fuck those fucking glasses and the nerd they rode in on.” I’m looking forward to seeing those words on a tee-shirt sometime soon.

¡Daß ist ausgezeichnet!