At least, with a can of pork and beans, you can read it right there on the lid.
It’s Friday, after all, and this is the new Rebecca Black single, which was released, like all proper pop records these days, on Tuesday:
Groundbreaking it is not. That buzzy synth noise is right out of “Friday,” although I appreciated the almost-power-pop guitar. (Which may also have been a synth, but what the hey.) This could almost have been an Avril Lavigne song, except that Avril would have insisted on being in your face the whole time: she’s almost always singing at top volume. And Avril, now twenty-one, might have choked on that line about “There’s a chalk line on the dance floor / In the shape of my heart”; you probably have to be fourteen (or me) to appreciate that. And there’s the Justin Bieber lookalike who plays the P. of I., which might be just a bit much. Still, a worthy effort, and I clanged down my 99 cents with enthusiasm.
I admit to having had a peripheral frustration here: I couldn’t find any actual credits on the Web. “Surely somebody wrote this, and somebody else directed the video,” I reasoned. Through Thursday — yesterday was Thursday, you’ll remember — all I’d found was the standard legalese: “℗ 2011 RB Friday, Inc.” (Obviously Rebecca knows on which day of the week her bread is buttered.) I left a message for her manager, who was kind enough to reveal the details: “Person of Interest” was written by Rebecca Black, Charlton Pettus and Wendy Page — Pettus had also produced “My Moment” — and Mazik directed the video, shot right there in Orange County.
The war on “haters,” first undertaken in “My Moment,” has picked up an unexpected ally: CNN’s Anderson Cooper, who added “all of Rebecca Black’s critics” to his ongoing RidicuList.
As for that promised album — well, someday. I can wait. Consider it an Item of Interest.
While others snark about how Penn State might as well rename itself “State Pen,” Jennifer tries to figure out the mindset of the students who rioted after Joe Paterno was sent packing, and comes up with this:
I of course do not approve of raping children or the coverup of same, no no no, but still think it’s a goddamned shame the school has to lose all that sweet football money and important athletic prestige just because some tattletale couldn’t keep his damned mouth shut. Not that I’m saying the rape of children is a good thing, mind you, unless a TSA agent does it for national security reasons which obviously was NOT a mitigating factor here, but there is a LOT of money at stake here, y’know, and alumni football fans to keep happy, and idealistic-purity arguments about not corrupting education or the law with the protection of athletic programs tend to be dreadfully ignorant of how the real world works, y’know?
Incidentally, the phrase “Mount Nittany” contains no verb.
Everything changed just a few short weeks ago. A firm, led by a crony of the Obama regime, stole all of the non-margined cash held by customers of his firm. Let’s not sugar-coat this or make this crime seem “complex” and “abstract” by drowning ourselves in six-dollar words and uber-technical jargon. Jon Corzine STOLE the customer cash at MF Global. Knowing Jon Corzine, and knowing the abject lawlessness and contempt for humanity of the Marxist Obama regime and its cronies, this is not really a surprise. What was a surprise was the reaction of the exchanges and regulators. Their reaction has been to take a bad situation and make it orders of magnitude worse. Specifically, they froze customers out of their accounts WHILE THE MARKETS CONTINUED TO TRADE, refusing to even allow them to liquidate. This is unfathomable. The risk exposure precedent that has been set is completely intolerable and has destroyed the entire industry paradigm. No informed person can continue to engage these markets, and no moral person can continue to broker or facilitate customer engagement in what is now a massive game of Russian Roulette.
I have learned over the last week that MF Global is almost certainly the mere tip of the iceberg. There is massive industry-wide exposure to European sovereign junk debt. While other firms may not be as heavily leveraged as Corzine had MFG leveraged, and it is now thought that MFG’s leverage may have been in excess of 100:1, they are still suicidally leveraged and will likely stand massive, unmeetable collateral calls in the coming days and weeks as Europe inevitably collapses. I now suspect that the reason the Chicago Mercantile Exchange did not immediately step in to backstop the MFG implosion was because they knew and know that if they backstopped MFG, they would then be expected to backstop all of the other firms in the system when the failures began to cascade — and there simply isn’t that much money in the entire system. In short, the problem is a SYSTEMIC problem, not merely isolated to one firm.
Barnhardt has shut down her own brokerage until further notice, and the likelihood of such a notice is slim indeed:
I will not, under any circumstance, consider reforming and re-opening Barnhardt Capital Management, or any other iteration of a brokerage business, until Barack Obama has been removed from office AND the government of the United States has been sufficiently reformed and repopulated so as to engender my total and complete confidence in the government, its adherence to and enforcement of the rule of law, and in its competent and just regulatory oversight of any commodities markets that may reform. So long as the government remains criminal, it would serve no purpose whatsoever to attempt to rebuild the futures industry or my firm, because in a lawless environment, the same thievery and fraud would simply happen again, and the criminals would go unpunished, sheltered by the criminal oligarchy.
That AND is pivotal, since every four years we go through a routine best described as “Meet the new crooks, same as the old crooks.” If you would buy futures contracts in this environment, I suggest feathers. And tar, if it’s still permitted by the EPA.
Last year, General Motors gave Jay Leno one of the very first Chevrolet Volts. (Like he doesn’t have enough cars already.) They were thoughtful enough to turn it over to him with a full (9.3 gallons) tank of gas — which, says Leno, he hasn’t used up yet in over ten thousand miles:
“It’s my daily driver,” he said. “It really is. I commute in it to work every day. My commute, and all my other daily running around, totals less than 35 miles.”
Chevrolet claims that the Volt can travel about 40 miles on electric power alone, under normal driving conditions, before the juice in the batteries would be depleted, after which the car’s small gasoline engine would provide added range.
“You get 40 miles free, as they say,” Mr. Leno said. “Because of the way I drive it, it almost never kicks into gasoline mode.”
Which is a good thing, because the Volt requires premium. Then again, Jay Leno can probably afford it.
The lady with the guitar is Ashleigh Ball:
She’s out front of the Vancouver-based indie band Hey Ocean!, seen here in a stripped-down version of “The Beatboxer Who Broke My Heart”:
This is not the version which appeared on their 2008 album Stop Looking Like Music. Then again, the last time I heard her voice, I was looking at something like this:
Either one of them: in the current series, she voices both Rainbow Dash and Applejack. And, lest she become overrun with free time, she’s also the voice of Allura in the current Voltron Force.
When I was growing up, we had playgrounds and those playgrounds were made of galvanized steel pipe and surfaced variously with concrete, asphalt, gravel, or just plain dirt. By today’s standards these places were safety nightmares. Kids fell down and they bled, kids jumped, fell, or were pushed off these abominations and they broke bones, bruises and lacerations were so common we didn’t even think about them … and note: We usually only played at these playgrounds under adult supervision. Why, you may ask? Quite simply, by our standards of “fun” playgrounds were just plain boring.
I never broke a bone, but I accumulated quite a nice bunch of bruises over the years, due usually to bicycle mishaps or simple oafishness.
Should a kid make it to double digits without a scratch, you have to figure he’s spent the entire ten years in his room. Apparently some people think that’s a good idea:
Driving in to work today, I found myself stopped at a light next to a large step van belonging to TotTurf, which purports to supply “playground safety surfacing.”
It could be worse. Here’s how:
Turn your playground into a fun-ground!
Talkin’ TotTurf® sensors can trigger a variety of educational and fun-inspired sounds.
Note that these sounds aren’t actually fun, only “fun-inspired.” (A true fun sound would evoke the cutting of cheese, and I don’t mean Stilton.)
I mean, seriously, people, our kids have it bad enough already without having to be treated like toddlers until some time after they reach puberty.
Somebody please just tap my shoulder when the primaries are over. I’ll be the one with her head in the sand.
There are better sound insulators than sand, but few as inexpensive.
It’s the end of the world as he knows it, and the Curmudgeon Emeritus does not feel fine: among our current harbingers of doom he lists the (temporary) resurgence of Newt Gingrich, the apparent inability of Herman Cain to provide snappy answers to stupid questions — and the existence of, um, bronies.
Significant numbers of teenaged boys are flocking into a cult around the old My Little Pony cartoon show.
I pointed out that it was, in fact, the new My Little Pony show, Friendship Is Magic, that’s drawing the guys, and while the Curmudgeon seems to be taking this in stride, the commenters seem greatly disturbed. If you ask me, Newt Gingrich is far greater a threat to the Republic than Rainbow Dash — so far as I know, Freddie Mac didn’t offer a dime to anyone in Ponyville or Canterlot — but then nobody asked me.
El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles del Río de Porciúncula was first settled in 1781, and it’s pretty obvious what the primary language was.
When the Americans took over, they ordered a new map of the town, starting with Calle Principal — Main Street — and heading westward. (The east, located in a floodplain, was settled later.)
The next block is Calle Primavera/Spring Street, which is also still there. Which is not to say that all the names of downtown L.A. streets are translations from the original Spanish:
Going west to east were the three virtues: Faith, Hope and Charity. On the  map, they are labeled Calle de las Flores (Faith had already morphed to Flower, supposedly due to the beautiful flowers on Elysian Hills visible from there), Calle de Esperanza (Hope Street) and Calle de Caridad. This last one, Charity Street, was a nonstarter. No one wanted to “live on Charity,” so it was renamed with the grand title of Grand Avenue.
Local OKC historians may remember that we used to have a Grand Avenue, the official dividing line between North and South. But before it was Grand Avenue, it was Clarke Street, and it was literally the dividing line between two distinct settlements, eventually merged. (For years and years, north-south streets had a “jog” at that point, because the two townships saw no reason to align their plats.) The Grand name eventually gave way to Sheridan, perhaps to avoid confusion with Grand Boulevard, which was supposed to circle the city well away from downtown.
(L. A. story via Nancy Friedman.)
On your way to better things? Stop in at Midway Grocery and Market in Norman, where owner Bob Thompson says:
“If I get an award for anything, it’s having a restaurant in Oklahoma where nothing is deep-fried.”
Which is not to say that he deals in exotica:
“All of our food has a blue-collar goodness. We don’t use a lot of fancy seasonings and rubs to ‘chef it up.’ You’re not going to taste any frickin’ thyme.”
Basil and Rosemary were not available for comment.
Every Congress, in the 18th month thereof, shall require a confidence vote by at least two thirds of the legislatures of the States. Failure to meet this confidence threshold shall result in no member of that Congress being allowed to retain their seat after that seat is next up for election.
Term limits: not individual, but global. There is, of course, what some might consider a drawback:
Chemotherapy, sadly, wipes out a few good cells with the bad. But don’t let your love of good tissue trick you into tolerating cancer.
The most immediate result of this change, I predict, would be massive Federal block grants in the 17th month.
Generally, Michelle Obama’s name has not been connected to NASCAR.
Um, yeah. You might say that.
Now there’s a Good Cause involved, the sort of thing that traditionally draws First Ladies, but some of us might be just a hair cynical about the matter:
The only reason she’s even considering this appearance is because if Barack were to show up, he’d be pelted with rotten arugula. Or he’d burn in the sunlight after being exposed to all of that corporate sponsorship. The worst that can happen with Michelle in attendance is a rash of tofu dogs.
This not being my area of expertise, I ask: “How can you tell if arugula is rotten?”
Under the heading of Sights You Don’t See Every Day — in fact, once might be pushing it for some of us — we find Lady Gaga, outside a London hotel, looking for all the world like a normal person:
Okay, an expensively dressed normal person, but still, it’s the principle of the thing.
Calgary has been playing with a device which, they say, can pick an excessively noisy motor vehicle out of the pack:
[T]he Noise Snare will pop a picture of noisy cars and mail owners the ticket.
Electrical engineer Mark Nesdoly invented the snare after a loud motorcycle awoke his sleeping daughter one night.
The gizmo costs $112,500 Canadian, or 563 tickets at $200 each. While Calgary got this one free for testing purposes, they may not actually have to buy another one: the box is portable and can be set up just about anywhere.
However, nobody seems to have mentioned what sort of noises can be Snared: is it just exhaust burble (or worse), or can it also spot [alleged musician you can't stand]?
We may not have an NBA season this season, and in announcing that unpleasant fact yesterday, the Oklahoman gave us fair warning:
Your assignment, should you decide to accept it, is to determine which is worse:
- The harsh realities of the big leagues
- More coverage
I mean, that’s a lot to hit us with, doncha think?
“A bullet from the back of a bush took Medgar Evers’ blood,” as Bob Dylan tells it in “Only a Pawn in Their Game,” and while Evers certainly hasn’t been forgotten since he was gunned down in Mississippi in 1963, he’s hardly a household name.
Medgar Evers was back in the news over the weekend with the U.S. Navy’s christening, at San Diego, of the USNS Medgar Evers, a 689-foot, $500 million new dry cargo/ammunition ship. There were remarks by the secretary of the Navy, Ray Mabus, a former governor of Mississippi. And by Medgar Evers’s widow, Myrlie, who said, “I will not have to go to bed ever again wondering whether anyone will remember who Medgar Evers is.”
To some it may seem incongruous to name a warship after a slain civil rights leader. But the more one learns about Evers, the more sense it makes. As Adam Nossiter writes in his book Of Long Memory: Mississippi and the Murder of Medgar Evers, Evers earned medals for his World War II Army service in the Normandy invasion and the campaign in Northern France, and he was buried in Arlington National Cemetery.
Your basic all-American hero, who died trying to make sure that the blessings of America were passed on to all Americans. Perfectly logical to me that they should name a great ship for him; now the rest of the world will see his name, and remember.
I bought my first CD player in 1987 from Linda Soundtrak herself. (She sold me a receiver to match. She was good.)
Shortly thereafter I spent some long-forgotten sum on a Compact Disc Laser Lens Cleaner, made in Taiwan by Bib Audio/Video Products Limited. At the time, it struck me as ingenious: it looked just like a regular CD, but half a dozen little brushes protruded from the surface, which would presumably scrub the frickin’ laser while the disc was turning.
There was also one music track. The idea was to run the disc for the length of the music, which was sixty seconds flat. (Audacity says 1:00.08 and change, which is close enough.) The track cuts off abruptly, indicating that it was sourced from somewhere else, but I haven’t a clue as to where that might be, beyond the Pacific Rim generally.
For the sheer hell of it, I’ve dropped it here so you can give it a listen. (MP3, VBR, 2.0 megabytes.)
[W]hen Tough Guy asserts that American women are “generally immature, selfish, extremely arrogant and self-centered, mentally unstable, irresponsible, and highly unchaste,” what he really means is that they have opinions of their own and don’t feel the need to change them just because some man’s in the immediate vicinity.
Most of us recognize that as a feature rather than a bug.
And, from the Wish I’d Said That Department:
More than once I’ve mentioned in this space that most of you have personally seen more comets than I’ve had dates.
If I do end up saying that, at least now it’s sourced.
There being eight actual members of Council, this means that Mayor Cornett must have voted in favor of the measure. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting him to:
On page 4 of Hard News Online’s Pride Guide , there are welcome letters from Jim Roth (District 1 County Commissioner), John Whetsel (County Sheriff), Sam Bowman (Council Ward 2) and Ann Simank (Council Ward 6). Conspicuously absent: Mayor Cornett. Says an Editor’s Note: “Oklahoma City Mayor Mick Cornett did not respond to Hard News Online’s request for a welcome letter to be included in this Pride Guide.”
Then again, Cornett was running for Congress at that time (he lost), and it is apparently de rigueur for Republican candidates in this state to exhibit some sort of nose-upturned aversion to Teh Ghey. Oklahoma City Council, however, is “nonpartisan,” kinda sorta.
Among the citizens at Council this morning was Steve Vineyard, pastor of Windsor Hills Baptist Church, who is quoted as saying that half of all murders in large cities are committed by gay people. Um, Reverend Steve, I hate to break it to you, but you don’t acquire expertise on the subject of homosexuality by pulling statistics out of your ass.