There is a finite period between the time the leaves start to fall and the time the trees are completely bare. I have no idea how long that might be.
This actually showed up in Y!A Cars & Transportation:
There is “unclear on the concept,” and then there’s downright opaque.
The US Environmental Protection Agency acknowledged that a “blend wall” has been reached for motor fuels with 10% ethanol as it released its proposed 2014 biofuel quotas under the federal Renewable Fuels Standard.
“Production of renewable fuels has been growing rapidly in recent years,” it said in its Nov. 15 announcement. “At the same time, advances in vehicle fuel economy and other economic factors have pushed gasoline consumption far lower than what was expected when Congress passed the [RFS] in 2007.
“As a result, we are now at the ‘E10 blend wall’, the point at which the E10 fuel pool is saturated with ethanol,” it continued. “If gasoline demand continues to decline, as currently forecast, continuing growth in the use of ethanol will require greater use of higher ethanol blends such as E15 and E85.”
Faced with these numbers, EPA decided, not actually to cut the quotas, but to suggest an increase in the lower half of the proposed range, presumably in an effort not to tick off the people who make money off ethanol. It did not work:
Brooke Coleman, the Advanced Ethanol Council’s executive director, noted: “While only a proposed rule at this point, this is the first time that the Obama administration has shown any sign of wavering when it comes to implementing the RFS. What we’re seeing is the oil industry taking one last run at trying to convince administrators of the RFS to relieve the legal obligation on them to blend more biofuel based on clever arguments meant to disguise the fact that oil companies just don’t want to blend more biofuel. The RFS is designed to bust the oil monopoly. It’s not going to be easy.”
Shorter Brooke Coleman: “It’s after Halloween, but dammit, we’re entitled to a permanent candy ration!”
Of course, I had to go hunt down a quote from Bob Dinneen, the addled head of the Renewable Fuels Association, and the one good thing about Dinneen is that he picks up his cues on time:
“We’re all just sort of scratching our heads here today and wondering why this administration is telling us to burn less of a clean-burning American fuel.”
Call me when you start pushing for natural gas, Bob. Not only is it right up there on the “clean” scale, but nobody actually eats it. Or maybe you could team up with Michael Jacobson of CSPI and build an engine that runs on Slurpees.
According to “Raw Data” in the December Playboy, the answer is 4:
Number of times the average single man changes his sheets per year.
Clearly I miss the average, since I change mine a minimum of once a week, if not more often, and God knows it’s not because it’s a hotbed of activity back there.
Why is this here again? Because of a promise I made to myself: if I like this feature, I can keep it. And promises, I believe, must be kept.
zone holys nude: How close is that to the friend zone?
ethelylene in perfume: It’s flammable, so it sustains the flame of desire.
yosemite sam dynamite under piano key: Believe me if all those endearing old cartoon gags don’t still pack a wallop.
is Johnny get angry sexist: Only if you think incurring one’s boyfriend’s wrath is a Good Thing.
ford el trans overfull of oil: Better not tell Johnny. He might get angry.
fuses and solenoids associated with instrument cluster lighting and guages on 2001 mazda millenia: Generally do not fail until it’s one in the morning and pitch black outside.
ruby red squirt statin: For kids with high cholesterol, no doubt.
black jailbait teens twerking in the nude booty shorts or panties: Hey, at least he isn’t picky.
tammy monkey dust: You might spread this over the ultimate waste product of Purina Monkey Chow.
property taken by imminent domain for windstar casino: Hence the “Coming Soon” sign.
dustbury hombres: Sí, señor. Right this way.
Thunderball was always the most controversial of the James Bond films, for reasons that had nothing whatever to do with the subject matter; there has almost always been some sort of litigation connected to the title.
To understand this, we have to go back to before any of the movies were made, to the 1961 novel by Ian Fleming except that technically it was only partially by Ian Fleming:
Ian Fleming published his novel based upon a television screenplay that he, and others developed into the film screenplay; the efforts were unproductive, and Fleming expanded the script into his ninth James Bond novel. Consequently, one of his collaborators, Kevin McClory, sued him for plagiarism; they settled out of court in 1963.
The settlement, basically, gave Fleming the rights to his novel, and everything else to McClory.
Later, in 1964, Eon producers [Albert B.] Broccoli and [Harry] Saltzman agreed with McClory to cinematically adapt the novel; it was promoted as “Ian Fleming’s Thunderball”. Yet, along with the official credits to screenwriters Richard Maibaum and John Hopkins, the screenplay is also identified as based on an original screenplay by Jack Whittingham and as based on the original story by Kevin McClory, Jack Whittingham, and Ian Fleming. To date, the novel has twice been adapted cinematically; the 1983 Jack Schwartzman-produced Never Say Never Again, features Sean Connery as James Bond, but is not an Eon production.
McClory also got a “Produced by” credit for Thunderball, in exchange for an agreement not to do anything with the intellectual property for at least ten years.
Ten years later, McClory started working toward a remake of the story, with the working title Warhead. It was Jack Schwartzman who did most of the heavy legal lifting to get Warhead made, with an interim title change to James Bond of the Secret Service. The Never Say Never Again title, it turns out, was suggested by Sean Connery’s wife, who recalled that after Diamonds Are Forever he’d said he’d never play 007 again.
In 1997, Sony came up with the idea of a Bond series, starting with Warhead 2000, and paid McClory $2 million to obtain his rights. Lawsuits ensued. Sony settled; the rights remained with McClory, who had gotten the idea that he was entitled to a cut of the entire Bond series. This particular suit was thrown out, but bad blood remained between McClory and Eon until last Friday:
MGM and the producer of the James Bond movies have finally acquired all of the rights to the 007 franchise. After a legal battle royale that has gone on more than 50 years, the studio and Danjaq [LLC, of which Eon is a subsidiary] today announced they now have all of the rights and interests to the British spy held by Kevin McClory and his estate.
McClory died in 2006 at the age of 80, so the legal unpleasantness actually outlived him.
You’ll remember that Thunderball introduced the fright-inducing organization SPECTRE, headed by Ernst Stavro Blofeld. They’d hang around for a few more films, but eventually weren’t mentioned anymore because of the legal wrangling; a Blofeld-ish character showed up in the pre-title sequence to For Your Eyes Only, but he’s unnamed. Does this mean we’ll see him in another Bond film? I’m with Michelline Connery: one should never say “never again.”
I simply cannot believe that this perspective is unique, though it’s certainly uniquely expressed:
If working retail has taught me anything, it’s dread. Dread of that one customer that ruins your day. Dread of being yanked around from one project to another. Dread of having your day off hijacked. Dread of suddenly realizing that you’ve just wasted another chunk of your life on people and things you not only don’t care about, but that you loathe. Dread that colors all holidays, all pleasures, all you see and hear, blacker than the blackest crayon in a depressed box of sad crayons. And the stupid muzak stuck on Away in the Bloody Manger is driving us all mad.
More and more, “brick and mortar” makes me think of Fortunato being sealed up in that wall.
The first time Renault’s Zoe EV got onto my radar, it was because someone named Zoe Renault objected to the name.
Unlike the other EVs, however, the Zoe comes with DRM attached to its battery pack. In short: If you value your ability to drive the Zoe at all, then you will submit to a rental contract with the pack’s manufacturer. Should you fail to pay the rent or your lease term expires, Renault can and will turn your Zoe into an expensive, useless paperweight by preventing the pack’s ability to be recharged, consequences be damned.
Blame Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, which may be the single suckiest section of that sucky statute: “No person shall circumvent a technological measure that effectively controls access to a work protected under this title.” Almost anyone with a computer has had to fight with DRM at some point, and cars are more computerized than ever.
I am not hopeful, but:
At present, Representative Zoe [!] Lofgren, D-Calif., is leading a bipartisan charge to bring about the Unlocking Technology Act, designed to limit the overzealous use of the DMCA and Section 1201 to cases where real intellectual property infringement has occurred. Should this bill become law, it would go a long way to preventing the abuses that have hindered progress elsewhere from infecting the automotive industry any further.
I’m about at the point where support for this measure will be required to get any votes out of me.
Still, as the young people might say, this is a Thing:
I mean, the event in question is not going to go unnoticed, and Norton Records, as record labels go, is definitely on the side of the angels, but something about this particular enterprise seems a little unsettling. But maybe that’s just me.
The vinyl version, incidentally, is pressed on grassy green vinyl. Of course.
The Chesterfield [Missouri] City Council on Nov. 4 amended a city ordinance that outlaws feeding certain types of wild animals within city limits.
Under the amended ordinance, it is now illegal to feed all wild mammals, including pigeons and Canada Geese.
Brian J. asks: “Does the writer need remedial science courses or simply remedial writing courses?” Yes. Next question, please.
I believe we must start with this:
At halftime, my God this game is atrocious.
— Darnell Mayberry (@DarnellMayberry) November 17, 2013
And any game where Scott Brooks draws a technical has to be weird, right? Now you have to give the Milwaukee Bucks this much: they held the high-powered Thunder to 40 points in the first half. Then again, that’s all they scored. Milwaukee was shooting a blah 37 percent in that half; OKC managed a pitiful 31. The Thunder then ran off a 32-25 third quarter, but the Bucks would not go away, and it took another Serge Ibaka Special to close it out: Ibaka had 20 rebounds, tying his career high, and 15 points. Thunder 92, Bucks 79, and good night, Milwaukee, thanks for playing.
Both sides were a bit depleted. The Bucks were missing Caron Butler, Carlos Delfino and Ersan İlyasova; the Thunder lost Thabo Sefolosha to the dreaded “flu-like symptoms,” and Kendrick Perkins was back. Rookie Andre Roberson drew his first start ever, and while he was in, he did a reasonable job of keeping O. J. Mayo out of the cylinder, though Mayo did knock down five treys (in 11 tries) on his way to a team-high 22 points. (The Thunder managed only five treys in aggregate.) The Bucks collected one more rebound than the Thunder (53-52), with Zaza Pachulia and Ekpe Udoh splitting 24 of them. Second-year man Khris Middleton started in place of Butler, and he did decently enough, with 14 points on probably too many shots.
With Ibaka making all the noise, no one noticed Russell Westbrook calmly for Westbrook, anyway dropping in 10 of 20 for a game-high 26 points despite bricking three free throws. Kevin Durant tacked on 24, and Reggie Jackson added 11 to lead the bench, though Nick Collison was the guy with the high plus: +16 for the night.
What makes you feel better after a fairly scary three-game road trip? Why, a six-game homestand, and that’s what’s coming, starting with the Nuggets on Monday night.
Someone asked the other day if anything good had happened in Cuba since the rise of Fidel. I was not quite quick enough to come back with “Daisy Fuentes was born in Havana,” which is certainly true and, to my way of thinking anyway, very good. If you haven’t seen her lately, well, here’s a shot from last fall’s New York Fashion Week, where she’s on the front row at the Carlos Miele show:
Not sure who her friend is.
And this tidbit from her Wikipedia bio actually caused me to do a spit take:
Fuentes learned to speak English while watching I Love Lucy episodes.
Which is more, you know, than the late Desi Arnaz ever did.
Daisy Fuentes turns 47 tomorrow. “How is this even possible?” wails the guy on the cusp of 60.
Repairs on everyday household items cost so much when you can get them repaired at all that you might as well toss one that’s broken, in approximately this manner:
I’m not great about fixing things. And by “not great,” I pretty much mean I’m awful about it. Once a thing stops working, I chuck it in the back of a closet somewhere and buy a new one.
I feel like there might be a story about how my lamp stopped working, so I bought a new one and then when my friend came to assemble the new one, he noticed that the old one wasn’t broken, the bulb had just burned out.
Then again, you can always use an extra lamp. This, though, might be going a little too far:
When my transmission went kaput, I bought a new car.
Or not, depending on what she was driving at the time: you roast the gears in a high-zoot Teutonic sled and you might as well buy a new car, considering the price they’re going to charge you for a rebuild.
I have to believe that Instapundit has some fairly resourceful readers. At 6:36 yesterday, the Professor linked this piece, which got several dozen hits despite the link being broken, one of his commenters having popped the source window open and posted the correct link. (Which was actually correct all along; the anchor tag itself was broken.) I tweeted at him; he fixed it soon as he read the tweet, and of course then the floodgates opened. As of this writing, about 2100 have wandered by to read the piece, which is pretty darn good for a weekend.
Unexpected good news on the plastic wrapper of Here Media magazines Out and The Advocate this month:
YOU’VE BEEN CHOSEN TO GET A FREE RENEWAL COMPLIMENTS OF TLA VIDEO.
Of course, they exchange mailing lists, and I’ve bought stuff from TLA before, though not in the last year or so. Perhaps this is TLA’s way of trying to reattract my attention.
For those of you who were wondering why a beyond-middle-aged straight guy would be reading either of these mags well, admittedly, they’re not aimed at me, but then neither is InStyle.
This started, actually, some time in the late Nineties while I was still getting the usual package of magazine stamps from Publishers Clearing House. For some reason, I decided to scrutinize the sheet a bit more thoroughly than usual, and to my amazement, there was a stamp for Out, listed as “the leading gay magazine” or something like that. And I figured it was worth my twelve bucks, or however much it was, to encourage this sort of thing, so I sent in the subscription order. In 2010, Here Media started offering a bundle of Out and The Advocate together at not much more than the price of Out alone, so I took that deal as well. And if the information therein isn’t always, as the phrase goes, relevant to my interests, it’s probably of interest to friends, and I have this weird idea that I ought to pay attention to such matters once in a while.
Incidentally, I never saw Out offered again by PCH. Go figure.
Today is the Day of the Imprisoned Writer, and PEN International’s Flanders outpost has chosen to mark this day by reading Liu Xiaobo’s 1999 poem “You Wait For Me With Dust,” one line by each of thirty-three writers. Liu, you’ll remember, is serving his fourth term in Chinese prison, this time for “spreading a message to subvert the country and authority,” such a wonderfully bland phrase that I expect it to catch on here in the States.
This reading is in Dutch, with English subtitles:
PEN first organized a reading of this poem a year ago:
Since winning the Nobel Prize in 2010, interest in Liu Xiaobo’s essays and poetry has grown in the West, leading to a number of new translations. No Enemies, No Hatred, a collection of essays and poems curated by scholar Perry Link, Liu Xiaobo’s wife Liu Xia, and Independent PEN Center’s current president, Tienchi Martin-Liao, was released in January . June Fourth Elegies, Liu Xiaobo’s collection of poetry in memory of Tiananmen Square victims, translated by PEN Member Jeffrey Yang, will be released in April .
Here at PEN, we believe that keeping Liu Xiaobo’s words alive is the best tribute to our imprisoned colleague.
You can imagine what China thinks of all this:
On 8 October 2010, the Nobel Committee awarded Liu the Nobel Peace Prize “for his long and non-violent struggle for fundamental human rights in China,” saying that Liu had long been front-runner as the recipient of the prize.
China reacted negatively to the award, immediately censoring news about the announcement of the award in China, though later that day limited news of the award became available. Foreign news broadcasters including CNN and the BBC were immediately blocked, while heavy censorship was applied to personal communications. The Chinese Foreign Ministry denounced the award to Liu Xiaobo, saying that it “runs completely counter to the principle of the award and is also a desecration of the Peace Prize.”
Because, you know, the Nobel Peace Prize had never, ever before been desecrated in such a manner.
(With thanks to Tumbleweed.)