Oh, we’re taking away your soapbox, too:

A suburban Philadelphia woman has been banned from using Twitter as part of her sentence for a stalking conviction.

Montgomery County Judge William Carpenter barred 34-year-old Sadiyyah Young of Pottstown from tweeting for at least five years.

Authorities say Young used derogatory and harassing tweets against people involved in a custody case regarding her children, including a judge who ruled against her, lawyers, social workers and foster parents.

And this didn’t get her suspended?

Young pleaded guilty Wednesday to misdemeanor charges of stalking, forgery, and identity theft. She also was sentenced to 11½ months to 23 months in jail and three years’ probation.

Oh. Identity theft. She probably got suspended and appropriated someone else’s username. There is, I regret to say, precedent for this sort of thing.

(Via Robert Stacy McCain.)

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Spamming email, vain consultant

Young whippersnapper aspires to give advice to the old pro; the old pro declines, most ungraciously.

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A short-reach excavator

On the off-chance that there’s someone out there who really, truly liked the song “Wrecking Ball,” but wanted to hear someone else — anyone else — sing it, we have here the second Rebecca Black variation on a Miley Cyrus theme:

The first, of course, was her duet with Jon D on “We Can’t Stop,” which you may remember from July.

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Lowered compression

I was looking forward tonight to seeing good ol’ Chauncey Billups in a Pistons uniform, the way I’ve always thought he was supposed to look. I did not anticipate, though, that he’d be part of a Telltale Statistic: Billups, on the plus/minus scale, was a team-high +13 — but he didn’t score a point in his first 25 minutes, missing five shots, four of them from outside. Still, Detroit has to be better now that he’s back, and if the Thunder seemed to be disposing of them handily — well, you didn’t see how fiercely physical these Pistons can be. (Josh Smith actually drew a technical after fouling out, which is an accomplishment; Billups got called for delay of game, and then got T’d up for not liking the call.) And then Billups and his point guard, Brandon Jennings, put on a nice little shooting display in the waning moments, cutting a 13-point Thunder lead to five, but Thabo Sefolosha and Kevin Durant sank four free throws to put it away, 119-110.

What was fun, though, was that while KD was rolling up another 37-point game, Steven Adams, the de facto reserve center, came up with a double-double, his first ever in the league: 17 points, 10 rebounds. The Big Kiwi, in fact, played 31 minutes, more than Kendrick Perkins, more than anyone else on the team except Durant. And you have to figure that any night the Thunder bench comes up with 42 is a good night indeed.

Josh Smith, before fouling out, had knocked down 25 points; Detroit big man Greg Monroe had a stellar 20-point/15-rebound night. (Monroe played 39 minutes, but he’s one of those guys who’ll play 53 if you’ll let him.) The three-ball, which wasn’t working for the Pistons in the first three quarters, started falling in the fourth, mostly by Jennings (22 points), though Billups got one; they finished 11-31. (OKC was 6-17.) And Rodney Stuckey, playing sixth man, led the Detroit bench with 17.

Radio guy Matt Pinto noted that the Pistons were under .500 for the moment, but could be expected to fight for one of the last playoff spots. Of course, they’re in the East, where .500 is usually the 7-seed; .500 in the West generally means you’re in the lottery.

Sunday night, the Thunder are at home against the Wizards; after that, it’s off to the Left Coast to face the Clippers and the Warriors on successive nights, and then up to Milwaukee. It’s going to be a long week.

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The clouds never got in her way

Joni Mitchell turned 70 this week. Her voice has darkened over the years, but her vision has always been clear.

Roger’s listed his twenty Joni favorites, with links to most; you probably know them all by now. But I wanted to mention her reinvention (in 2000, when she was a mere fifty-seven) of one song of hers that’s been covered six hundred times, enough to make you sick of it — until you hear this arrangement, which will make you fall in love with it all over again.

Just for the record, this is my favorite Joni song. I’d love to hear her sing it again as a contralto.

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Are you kidneying me?

There are times when I fear for the sanity of the 149 members of the legislature, some more than others:

Ordinarily, if one wants a dumb legislative idea regarding crime and punishment in my fair state, one must rely on the Grand Old Party. They’ve got a flap-brained contingent that’s always willing to take a look at doing something to criminals that makes Theodoric of York, medieval judge, say, “Dial it down a bit, eh?”

But we are bi-partisan in our silliness, and comes now the latest proof, state representative Joe Dorman of Rush Springs, home of the Rush Springs Watermelon Festival. Rep. Dorman, one of the few Democrats surviving in state government these days, wants to introduce legislation that will allow death row inmates to donate their organs when their sentences are carried out.

Well, actually, this depends on what the meaning of the word “when” is:

[C]urrent acceptable methods of execution wreck several of the body’s major organs at once and degrade their viability for transfer. That’s where Rep. Dorman borrows from [Larry] Niven, as instead of being killed by lethal injection an inmate being executed would instead be anesthetized and the needed pieces removed before brain death occurred. So technically, Rep. Dorman, you’re suggesting organs be harvested from living people. That sound you heard was Christian Szell saying, “Ew.”

I’d suggest harvesting organs from legislators, but that brain-death issue would still be a factor.

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This is surprising the first time, perhaps, but eventually you don’t notice it anymore:

During a short telephone conversation yesterday, the person on the other end didn’t say “oh my God”, they said OMG. I was amazed.

The time to worry is when they start spelling out OMGWTFBBQ.

Oh, and on the middle three of that no-no nonet:

“WTF” takes five whole syllables to say what the phrase it represents says in three.

Then again, you may be in a location where one of those letters represents something forbidden. I’m guessing it’s not the T.

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Perhaps a sad tale

Her Majesty’s preferred breed may be going down the tubes it resembles:

The Queen of England’s favorite breed of dog was placed on Britain’s Kennel Club’s “at watch” list — and could soon become endangered, the organization warns.

Only 241 Pembroke Welsh corgis are registered with the club this year and, unless that number spikes to 300 by January, the pups will be placed on a “vulnerable native breeds” list, the club claims.

One possible reason may be at the little guy’s far end:

The cuteness shortage may be linked to the country’s 2007 ban on tail-docking, which breeders say make corgis less desirable show dogs, London’s Daily Telegraph reported.

No such ban exists in the States, where the American Kennel Club adheres to the following standard:

Docked as short as possible without being indented. Occasionally a puppy is born with a natural dock, which if sufficiently short, is acceptable. A tail up to two inches in length is allowed, but if carried high tends to spoil the contour of the topline.

The Pembroke’s long-lost cousin, the Cardigan — they’ve been separate breeds for the better part of a century — can have as much tail as he wants, so long as he doesn’t carry it high.

Who is gaining at the Pembroke’s expense? Perhaps the French bulldog:

The French Bulldog (owned by the likes of Jonathan Ross, Reese Witherspoon and Hugh Jackman) is the breed with the biggest increase in popularity, with the Kennel Club seeing a 1232 percent rise from 2003 to 2012. The popularity of the breed shows no sign of diminishing, with new statistics revealing that registrations with the Kennel Club have risen by 50 percent in the first three quarters of 2013, compared to the same period in 2012. There have been 4,843 registrations so far this year, making it the seventh most popular breed in the UK.

The AKC reports that in 2012, the Pembroke ranked 24th out of 175 breeds; the Cardigan, 75th; the Frenchie, 14th. (A decade ago, the Frenchie was 58th.)

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Who are grandparents?

I’m not entirely sure what The Last Thing I Ever Expected might be, but there’s at least a reasonable chance that it might be a solo album from a former member of the Shaggs.

Oh, it gets better. Ready! Get! Go! by the Dot Wiggin Band was released by Alternative Tentacles, the California-based label owned by Jello Biafra.

The lead-off track is called “Banana Bike,” and it’s right up/down there with “That Little Sports Car.”

I might get this just for the cover of “The End of the World.” Skeeter Davis will cry.

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This way to the grindstone

I understand this complaint better than I’d like to admit:

… sometimes I get a little tired of who I am: rule-bound, attentive to deadlines, fearful that without a Plan B things will go very wrong and I will be left stranded and no one will be able to help me. And, I don’t know, I’d like to be more spontaneous and “fun” but I don’t quite know how. (I don’t know how much of this is “brought to you by” the meme that men like the manic-pixie-dreamgirl type who is fun but a little flakey, but are mostly bored by the woman whose pumps are firmly planted on the ground and who gets her checkbook to balance every month)

I have long suspected — and it’s purely a suspicion, because I have no actual experience to support this premise — that no man can stand more than one MPDG, because the first one he meets will lay waste to his heart, and perhaps other parts as well.

Then again, I was married, for a while, to someone far more sensible than I. Which is perhaps one reason why it didn’t work out: all the maturity in the household was hers.

This hits me in the heart, though:

I’m not spontaneous and not good at being spontaneous.

I suppose I have it worse; I can be spontaneous, occasionally have been — but I’m not particularly good at being spontaneous. After a while, one learns to keep those jets cooled.

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The op-ed page in yesterday’s Oklahoman contained this excerpt:

Gleanings from the Oklahoman 11-6-13

Here’s the whole of that USA Today piece, from the original Instapundit link.

It occurs to me that Glenn Reynolds is probably the kind of guy who doesn’t much care what they say about him so long as they spell his name right.

Which, you’ll notice, they didn’t.

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At least it’s in order

The other day, I said something to the effect that Paris Hilton’s current single was “a bit less cerebral than, well, almost anything in existence.” There’s a reason for that word “almost,” and this is it:

You’ll perhaps remember Miss Gold from her debut, “Chinese Food,” also a product of the unparalleled imagination of Patrice Wilson.

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There should be a bridge just overhead

How would you design something called the International Troll Registry? Let’s see:

[✓] Pure Nineties aesthetic;

[✓] Gratuitous use of Marquee tag;

[✓] At least some text in Comic Sans;

[✓] Old Internet Explorer and Netscape buttons;

[✓] Graphic element obviously poached from somewhere else.

Yep. That just about covers it.

(Via this Julie R. Neidlinger tweet.)

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Above Maverage

The ability to beat the Dallas Mavericks on any given evening is not an inconsiderable weapon to have in one’s armory. This is something the Thunder have been perfecting over the last few seasons, despite the best efforts of Dirk Nowitzki and some of the best tricks pulled out of Rick Carlisle’s hat. Exactly how it’s done on any given evening will vary; tonight, it was simply executing better in Game 4 than in Games 1 through 3, assuming “executing better” can be stretched to include 23 turnovers. OKC was up five at the half, ran it to nine after three, and won it by 14: 107-93.

Then again, this version of the Mavs differs much from previous editions: Samuel Dalembert, sort of a faster-talking Kendrick Perkins, anchored the middle, and José Calderón ran the point. What’s more, they’ve acquired Monta Ellis, who could play 53 minutes a game if he had the chance. Ellis led the Mavs with 20 in a mere 40 minutes. But for sheer ferocity, you have to go with Vince Carter, scoreless in fourteen, who drew a foul from Steven Adams, then directed an elbow in the general direction of Adams’ schnoz. Carter was escorted to the exit with a Flagrant Two. Oh, and Dirk had sixteen despite being bottled up at every turn.

Obvious points of Thunder failure have been addressed: Serge Ibaka not only seemed to have his shot back, he posted a double-double (17 points on 8-10 shooting, 13 rebounds). Russell Westbrook, who did everything well Sunday except shoot, shot well: 10-20 for 22 points. And Kevin Durant paired up a game-high 23 points with 10 assists. Reggie Jackson looked like he was going for a big line, but a hip contusion sent him to the locker room. Jeremy Lamb hit three of five treys for a bench-leading 13 points. Any day they want to shoot 54 percent from the floor is fine with me.

Next outing: in Auburn Hills against the Pistons, who by all accounts have had their rods polished, or something.

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Surprisingly often, covered in tree sap

This is where it started:

After a little more contemplation, he added:

An oak tree is considered an epitome of mightiness and dignity. It stands on its own terms, casting shade and acorns as nature intended.

It may be unfair of me to put it this way, but a maple tree is … a sap donor.

Maybe “donor” in the sense of “having a hole drilled into your trunk and then having your vital fluids removed.” Synonym: “taxpayer.” No wonder Washington is always telling us to get bent.

(Title source.)

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And best of all, it’s orange

World's largest orange diamondAs a carbon-based life form, I have a peripheral interest in diamonds, which are, after all, a highly stylized form of carbon; I even bought one once. (It was stolen during a late-Seventies break-in.) I admit, though, I never have seen an orange diamond, let alone an orange diamond this size: 14.82 carats. (Picture is not necessarily actual size.) And this one’s going up for auction later this month:

The largest orange diamond to come to auction will go on sale next week in Switzerland, with the rare gem expected to fetch a record $17-20 million… It was found in South Africa, but the name of its seller has not been revealed by Christie’s.

This is perhaps the showcase item in Christie’s Magnificent Jewels collection, to be offered in Geneva. But fancy-schmancy auctions would be nothing without good old-fashioned oneupsmanship:

The following day, rival auctioneers Sotheby’s are to sell a flawless 59.60-carat pink diamond, which has an estimated price of $60 million.

[sigh] Cubic zirconia, anyone?

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