It Depends Upon What Kind of Load You're Gonna Drop

Dan Diebert shares an excellent email he recieved regarding hubub over a little Great Lakes Target Practice. When I read it, I might have laughed a little too hard for someone who sits in an open concept area, which is the first reason that this appealed to my Inner Geek:

Good morning Dan

I did a bit of research on the actual area that 3 tons
of lead would take up. Lead weighs 710 lbs per cubic foot. 3 tons of lead is 8.45 cubic feet, approximately 3/4 of a refrigerator full of bullets. Water weighs 62.425 lbs per cubic. I would assume that a cubic foot of poop weighs just as much as water, probably a little less. 3 tons of poop is 96.11 cubic feet, nearly 7 refrigerators full of poop. Lead is also less likely to float.

Have a great day

I think Aaron should consider doing a podcast with this guy. Who knows what else we could learn.

Why The Long Face?

Oh. I forgot. Nevermind

This is what I wake up to today, the sound of morning talk radio playing the clip of John Kerry eating his shoe.

A few interpretations have been floating around today. Haven't heard them all, but most settle on the following: if you're unable to support yourself you'll be forced to enlist.

I thought of this a little differently. To me, he equated the stigma of the term "flipping burgers" to "ending up in Iraq".

Not only does that imply that the military are a bunch of dolts, but it implies that serving your country is the lowest form of service, period.

I'm ashamed of him for the soldiers who are fighting for his freedom and protection. He is alive because we have a military. He is free to flap his extraordinarily high and mightily ignorant hole because our military and generations before have fought for it. His riches have not been revoked or usurped because we aren't a socialist or totalitarian nation.

In fact he wouldn't last more than five minutes if the above wasn't true.

Maybe we should take the approach of the parent who takes away the toy of the child who doesn't take care of it or appreciate it. Revoke his freedoms. See how much he will miss them.

If You're Sick of Campaign Ads

Understand that it's all for a good cause.

The November Election Return Drinking Right.

Be there, or miss Casper's concession speeches. Gonna be a long night, so get your drink on early and often.

Must...find....pattern....

...shivers
...vomiting
...withdrawl....

Lucky Seven

A good time was had by all... including Ms. Jones....

But now it's late.

And I have to be to work at Seven

Try to Curb Your Enthusiasm

Or at least your urge to corner a group of potential constituents. Not that a choice is really given in the matter. Or a 1-800-whistleblower number. Hell, Doyle can't even cuddle the Wisconsin Realtors Association after...well you get the gist.

Fred at Real Debate Wisconsin has all of the breaking news about Doyle's purported very uhm... convincing appeal for their support.

This can only happen when it's allowed to. We have to remember that.

Why Yes, It IS Here.

Pattern number one arrived today. The Singer 503a rejoiced. I rejoiced. And so did my slowly returning creativity.

T minus 50 hours and counting until costume night...

Welcome, Riverwest!

I just felt like sayin' it :)

I mean, until I'm not at work and have a little more time!

Wonder if The JS' Calculator Was State Funded

Sure is an improvement over Nick's results this morning.

I might have agreed with Doyle but I think I might have disagreed with the way the JS phrased the question.

Or perhaps I am still under la influence.

Sorry, Lady.

Not all of us were born beautiful. Sometimes you've just gotta grow into it. And sometimes, you never do.

That's where the experts come in.

Let's face it. You're famous, you're female, you're going to get dinged.

Imagine what it's like to be just an average Jane. Without the funds, without the insulations, without the defense. A commoner.

C'mon now. Be a big girl.

Cleanup in Aisle Four....

I regret to inform that I am not the winning bidder of pattern number two.

Blood. Murder. Mayhem.

Je Veut Seulement Oublier...

...et puis, Je fume.

And I'm sure many of the French would like to forget last November's events, and everything that was burned in its path.

When I read this article about fears of renewed violence at the anniversary of the France riots last year, I was struck by the similarities between their problems and our problems right here in Milwaukee, and across the US.

Although their problems have advanced faster and with much more severity.

I'll not hide the fact that I like France, I love Paris, and among my ancestry, I am Alsatian. I don't agree with France's politics, but am eerily at home while visiting France. I like France.

Now that I've gotten that out of my system, again... look at the following statements I've pulled from this article:

When the call came about a car burglary in this raw suburb north of Paris one night last weekend, three officers in a patrol car rushed over, only to find themselves surrounded by 30 youths in hoods throwing rocks and swinging bats and metal bars.

Neither tear gas nor stun guns stopped the assault. Only when reinforcements arrived did the siege end. One officer was left with broken teeth and in need of 30 stitches to his face. "Tension is rising very dramatically," said Patrice Ribeiro, the deputy head of the Synergie-Officiers police union. "There is the will to kill."

The anger of the young is reflected in the music popular in the suburbs....The rapper Booba proclaims that "Maybe it would be better to burn Sarko's car," [Interior Minister Nicholas Sarkozy] while Alibi Montana, another rapper, warns Sarkozy, "Keep going like that and you're going to get done."

[A leaked memo] reported a 23 percent increase in violent robberies and a 14 percent increase in assaults in the district of 1.5 million people in the first half of 2006, complaining that young, inexperienced police officers were overwhelmed and that the court system was lax. Only one of 85 juveniles arrested during the unrest had been jailed, it added. [sound familiar?]

The article goes on critical of the French government for ghettoizing the immigrant population and that France didn't hand each of these thugs a job. It goes on to quote artists who fume at politicians who don't make appearances in these rough, suburban areas. I guess they must have been talking with the police - another government entity - who experienced 480 assaults on officers in September. A 30% increase. In one month.

Hell I wouldn't go near it either if I were a politician. What's it going to do, make these folks behave?

So this is an article that came from the New York Times. The first part of the article is spot on, and then in true appeaser fashion it says that all of this is the fault of the government. The Man.

I read the article in its entirety and could see many, many parallels between our situation and France's.

And lastly, there is a real chance for a movements that we don't want to see in France.

I for one, would not like to see that.

It Can't Be Much Clearer Than This

Dad29 opines on local Catholic "leadership" The Milwaukee Priests' Alliance, who are leaning towards support of gay marriage. The whole gay marriage debate, like many issues, gets oversimplified into a bumper sticker. And just like the telephone game, the real issue, the real message, the actual intent gets stripped away until it's distilled into a bite-sized statement designed to roil and ire as many people as possible. So like Telephone, we get a lot of people believing something very distorted and hot damn, are they angry about it.

So Dad29 quotes Fr, Massingale's opinion of the second amendment clause:

Fr. Massingale: "The amendment's second clause is: '. . .and a legal status identical or substantially similar to that of marriage for unmarried individuals shall not be valid or recognized in this state.' ...This is the part which makes many Catholics pause, for it raises troubling concerns. Many fear that this clause could endanger laws and other arrangements which extend medical coverage (among other benefits) to unmarried households"

And Dad29 writes thusly:

"Actually, 'Father,' the clause does NOT 'endanger' such arrangements when they are voluntarily provided by an employer. Informed legal opinion attests to this. And your circle of friends is not 'many' Catholics. It is, in reality, 'many' dissidents.' "

Well said.

However Massingale is attempting to distort God's law in favor of what he thinks should be legal mandate. Either Massingale doesn't understand how little the law has to do with the right to healthcare or anything else for that matter - or he thinks everyone is too stupid to get it. I'll err on the latter. Or he's started to believe the distillation of the telephone game or the lies he's telling himself. Besides, anyone who attests to be close to God knows that the law cannot take away what God has given, or the community gives, or what one can do to provide for oneself...

Overall, this is yet another example of attempts to associate conservatism with the denial of rights. Nobody would deny anyone the right to vote, the right to healthcare, the right to anything (except a gun, y'know). The assumption that a law must be changed in order to force a voluntary decision is about as short-sighted as it gets. And it shows how little the law-pushers actually know about how things work in America or how to make life work for the individual.

I think Massingale's been locked up in the Tower Of Marquette for too long.

To Hell and Back For Halloween

The peeps are back - the lovely, talented, ever graceful, demure, and radiant Psychomania will be playing out for Halloween on October 27 at Club Anything.

In case you're wondering... they aren't rockabilly... they're psychobilly. And they rock!

The World According to A Happy Birthday

Have a great birthday, my friend!

What's a Pinup to Do?

Well, you can all probably guess by now that I'm going out on Halloween as a 40's pinup. No surprises there.

Although I'm having a hard time figuring out what type of top to make. As in sew. Ebay has some great ideas, as usual. Have already bought the satin red material (a pinup must wear a red shirt with a black skirt, y'know). So what'll it be?

Pinup one



Pinup two



or, Pinup three?

Tawk amongst yahselves

(btw - yes I did modify pinup one - I picked the wrong pic)

Dear Dan

Yessir. It's official. You ARE an internet addict:


IP addresses have been omitted to protect the uh, innocent.

Now go to bed.

It's Good To Be Mandy Jenkins

I just felt like sayin' it

In all honesty I never really read her stuff before, I just remember her as the chick from the Journal from the Blogger convention this past March. So I finally read her stuff.

What a gig.

Musings of the Forgetful

As I start recovering I'm still not immune from forgetting things. Friday, still in a fog, I needed to go for a drive. Not a good idea, I know, but take heart, I ran out of gas about four blocks from my house.

I walked to the gas station hoping that they'd have a gas can. No can do. A woman who was at the checkout said "I have a gas can you can borrow". So she gave me her address, and wrote down her name. As I walked back to my car I couldn't figure out if she looked familiar, sounded familiar, or if perhaps she was someone who was new to the Heights.

It took me forever to figure out how to use the nozzle on the gas can. Then I figured out that the nozzle collapsed and no, I should not unscrew it. The encounter with this woman was still with me. Her kindness was exceptional.

So I drove over to her street and she was out tending the garden. As I pulled up I realized she was the mother of a guy named Randy, who was the first boy I ever kissed. I had thanked her for use of the gas can and said, "you're Randy's mother, I'm one of the neighborhood kids" and I named off about six of us who used to hang out. Turns out Randy really did run off and join the circus. In fact he is travelling with them in Virginia.

Last week I misspelled my last name. I'm not dyslexic but I have had many moments lately where I begin to write and I start at the middle of the word. The name I wrote was the last name of a guy I knew from my early twenties. I looked him up. He's an actor now. He's even been on some of my favorite shows.

There was one other one. It'll come to me though.

But one thing I saw in the last couple of days sort of summed up a lifelong challenge and lesson for me. Sometimes things are right in front of you and entirely too clear for you to understand them, even in your sharpest moments. It was a card that read:

"There will come a time when you think everything is finished. That will be the beginning"

It was a quote by Louis l'Amour. If anything could be the story of my life, that's it. The search for perfection within myself. To be the smartest I can be, the quickest, toughest, quaintest, socialized, most mysterious, most successful, spiritually realized, and most important, none of these things can happen unless I am the healthiest I can be.

And that might never happen. I may never have the perfect health I always expected would come to me. That I would grow into. A health that would allow me to manifest my life as I have always wanted to. And to do that in the glow of having the most menial, granular, seemingly insignificant aspects of my health looked after, and not constantly needing to remind or seek monitoring.

Many double takes and coincidences and repeats have gone on over the past few months. I don't know how many times I have asked the same questions, done the same task, or completely forgotten things. Having those glimpses of little reminders of things I knew long ago were comforting. The biggest surprise was in eventually knowing that I was missed. As odd as that will sound, if you lose you, everyone will miss you.

Even you will miss you.

MIA

For what it's worth, I want to tell you all something. About three months ago I began taking a medication for a mild health issue. Turns out that the side effects of said med were pretty major. So major that I didn't even realize that I was experiencing them.

I can laugh about it now, a little bit. But, that's because I don't entirely know better...yet.

So if I've been remiss in anything, or not quite the myself that you know and love, rest assured it's not permanent or intentional.

What was I talking about (see, this is what I mean). There isn't a whole lot that I expect to remember about the last three months. Don't take it personally, and try not to draw any conclusions because I can 99% guarantee that said conclusions will be incorrect.

It will be good when this is over. And hopefully when all I've forgotten is forgiven.

Jamie Would Not Be Proud

I'm not one to throw a stink at people who are politically incorrect, because I don't think political incorrectness is always intentional.

But get this. Tuesday morning I'm listening to the Early Spin, [note to producers and Dan and the like] like I do every morning. Their infobabe says the following, at about 7:34 a.m., regarding a boy who beat his mother to death with a pipe. I quote:

"after he spilled his CRAZY pills, he beat his mother to death with a pipe".

I might be one or two words off, but folks, that's generally what was said. And with stress on one word and not the others.

Now I've got a serious question here. Would you say someone's "stupid wheelchair" or "dumb seeing-eye dog" or "flipping cane"?

My guess is no. That wouldn't just be insensitive, it would actually be offensive and disrespectful. My next guess is you'd want to crack the ignorant person upside the head for being such an idiot.

The sighted wouldn't curse the blind. The able bodied wouldn't trip the handicapped. So how is making an ignorant statement about someone's medication different? I'm not talking about prozac for six weeks, I'm talking about people who were born requiring stabilization.


I listen to this show every morning. I'm not saying anything about WISN or Dan, Nicole, or even Keith. But they should think twice about who represents their voice of news.

If You Can't Drink Right, Well Then Don't Drink At All

...hic....

Lemme tell you another thing....

hic.

I don't know if I'll be there tomorrow night, but hopefully I can for a little while at least to say hello. Been a busy one, but I really miss my bloggin' peeps.

Boar in Mah Belly

So as you can all see, here at the Confidentials, in mah belly is a good place to be. I mean, they do claim that you stomach has intelligence, right?

Well well well. If it isn't Cabelas. Today I called my other brother to find out if he had plans to hit Cabelas this weekend. Why yes, he would. And in fact, so would the nephew. So we all put on our scarves and goggles and hopped in the Saab to head out to Richfield. Yes my friends, I'm sure that at some point my brother realized we'd be rolling into the parking lot in a euro car as opposed to a nice big truck. But as I was soon to see, the moment that you turn into the massive parking lot, all men are like deer in headlights. They are defenseless. Nobody even knew.

The Man Mall. That's how my brother put it. And so far I'm not sure there is a better description. For the record, it was truly a mall full of men. Outside there were displays of outdoor cooking, gore-tex, and even the UPS Nascar (before the new regulations).

It's a little strange to walk into a store where most of the clothes look the same. All camouflage, as in. I had a hard time finding childs or women's sizes but who could tell - they all looked the same.

Cabelas is set up beautifully - the main sections are an open area with garments, some equipment, and of course, outstanding dioramas - bears, antelope, wolves, mountain lions. On the perimiter are large subsections for duck hunting, guns, camping, game processing, fishing and other. Y'all, they had a gun library. This was an amazing feature - old, new, expensive and inexpensive. They had an aquarium that you walk through, other dioramas of hunting in africa, hunting in the US. I haven't even gotten to the upstairs yet.

So we spent a decent amount of time in the gun section. I tried on quite a few rifles, hoping that all of them would have the same feel as the SIG that Chris owns. Now in fairness, I tried on some really terrific rifles. No idea how they would perform, but it was good to get into a few of them. The brother bought ammo and discussed the next shotgun that he would buy for my nephew.

After hitting many of the sections on the first floor we went upstairs. Now, where else can you buy outdoors equipment and then go eat? Much less, have the selections of elk, venison, boar, and others? Here's a tip though: if you're not hungry to start with, don't try the samples. You'll be back in about 15 minutes for lunch. Which we did... boar in mah belly. With some honey mustard, lettuce, and provolone on whole wheat.

There was a whole other section upstairs including a general store and a "shooting range" that was full of animals and other items that moved and came out of hiding. I probably would have avoided the skunk.

Soon we had our fill. All in all we must have been there for 2.5 hours if not a little longer. I'm not capturing anywhere near the amount of things we saw or tried or bought. But I found out one thing for sure - blaze orange is hella expensive.

But the girly shirts that say Cabela's are about 17.95.

Dear Jim Doyle

The Emperor has no clothes.

Vive La.... Molotov Cocktail?

France seems to be reaching their threshold.

The police have had enough. They're being attacked in the suburbs by gangs of North African Muslims - for police actions large and small. Police are requesting armored vehicles and "water cannons" to disperse crowds. Crowds meaning people (unemployed, btw) who all come running out of their housing units to the rescue when the Police arrest or otherwise ticket a fellow Muslim.

Attacks on police officers have increased by 1/3 in the past two years (2,500 officers injured). That's a lot of attacks. The police aren't safe even when patroling in small groups because even in groups, they're targets.

This is a big deal. These are the rioters protesting the government's changes in employment laws, these are the car burners. For the record I was in Paris during the anti-police riots. What shocked me was not only the amount of destruction for the fun of it, for the entertainment of rage et al, but the widespread cornering of the country. You couldn't travel on the trains into other cities without the fear that one might be derailed. And I really wanted to go to Normandy last time, but even there, they rioted.

During my visit in 1997 nearly every street corner had armed guards in uniform. They were very visibly armed too, with machine guns. There was a terrorist threat at the time, which they took seriously and without apology. This was the military of course and many pick on the French for their military but what I've seen is different. I know, I know...

But their police are castrated in comparison to their military. What you see is four officers crammed into a two door Renault. No lie. Now does that sound like a police force that's properly equipped? I wouldn't take the job. Even if the Euro is higher than the dollar. Oh, their police aren't fat, by the way. Even with all the croissants and cafe that your little law enforcement heart desires.

This is a Croc-Free Zone

And here at the Confidentials we take a "zero tolerance" approach, so please be assured, rules are rules are rules.

They apply to kids and adults. Or adults who end up looking like kids, because they are wearing their kids' shoes.

If you have for some reason, a good reason to wear crocs, you may not share them with your friends. Or even lend them. Or flash them so that others may see.

No you must wear them on your own time and in your own residence where you will not expose others to second-hand croc viewing.

Also, since people are losing limbs in escalators due to crocs, we will start taxing crocs at least 40% per pair. That'll learn you.

Yeouch

I woke up to such a clatter
I had to find out what was the matter.
In my snuggy pants and bastille shirt
Twas unprepared for future hurt.
And rushed down the stairs hands with key
barefooted and panicked
and woe was me

I opened the back door and stopped short of a pile
of freezing ass hail extending for miles
between the threshold and car that sat
in pain, in tears, for hail did bat
my trusty Saab, my pride and joy
Hang in there my sweet, I shall deploy

I ran to her side so unprepared
bare feet and all I did declare
hail hurts the tootsies as much as the head
4:55 a.m. and peeled from warm bed
but awake now with ice in my hair
Now to run from the garage to my warm dry lair

You Know What Time It Is

YouTube is a mixed blessing. Where else can you find footage of the last thing you thought you'd ever find footage of?

I was surfing for old school rap videos. It's hard for me to believe that some of the first and favorite videos ("back in the day") are a little more than 20 years old. The first time I ever heard rap was when I started high school at St. Joan Antida. I'd spent the last eight years in a Tosa grade school that I hated and was frankly, the last kid to be picked for a team in gym class. Now I was transplanted into a world with so much diversity I wasn't sure what to do...but it was all so fascinating. All my classes had been white and now I had the humor and flavor of Asians, Latinos, Black and multi racial women. And they were funny as hell. And a little more rough around the edges but still pretty tame by today's standards.

And I had more friends... city friends with city girls who were like me.

But I didn't get this music thing.

Until I transferred to Washington and there was more change, more texture to my life, and some of the best high school years. Here, people were in groups in the hallway rapping, beatboxing, and there were people dancing even when there was no music.

One day in 1986 I came home and my parents had a surprise for me: they had bought a color TV. And we had cable. Cable!!! I started surfing around and stopped at BET, because I heard a familiar tune: All The Way to Heaven by Doug E. Fresh and the Get Fresh Crew. To this day, it's my favorite rap tune. At a time when it wasn't about gangsters, it was about storytelling, humor, being with your friends, block parties, and house parties... in 1986 you'd still see handwritten flyers at the bus stop for house parties.

So I thought I'd share some of the first and favorite videos that I ever saw on BET. Things changed soon though with the West Coast "gangsta" influence. But these days, the New York sound of the second generation Jamaican and Trinnie populations will always stay with me.



I always loved this: The opening with the block party poster theme is so New York borough, the ladies doing the Wop (and they're fully clothed, btw), and that darned move that Chill Will does at the end. We tried for hours to master that and our uncoordinated asses could never do it.



Grandmaster Flash was already becoming "Old School" even at the time this video came out (1987). It's one of the first times I ever heard the expression "You Know What Time It Is". The basic animation feels like steamboat willie a little bit. And you can't beat using the visual of a dog scratching itself overdubbing the remix "scratch" effect.



Eric B. and Rakim. I'll bet they're one of the first rap acts you ever really listend to. Eric B's delivery is great - his voice is unique, his timing is spot on, and the song just sounds good. Check out the ghetto boombox. You know you wish you had it. And the scratch to feed it full of ten D batteries.

Drawback? It was the first real exposure for the heinously annoying "Flava Flav" of Public Enemy. Rap was never the same. It was the fall of civilization. The only saving grace of FF was the delivery of Chuck D.

And 1998 concludes our Old School session. It was good, good times. Simple and pre-internet, pre-cell phones, pre-guns, gang activity was abnormal, and people dressed fashionably and in clothes that fit. And trust me, they came to school dudded up. It was just what you did. At those times, in those places.



:)

No no no....

What a bunch of flipping dimwits.

How did I miss the fact that a "W" hotel won't be going in downtown, because the county voted for ANOTHER CONDO complex? To be fair it will also house other commerce but this is fricking stupid. A W hotel, people. This would have been an amazing statement about our city. But no, we had to have more condos. No we can't be a normal city. No all those things are too good for us. No it's gentrification and favors the evil rich. Well, wish away your revenue to the city. Wish away your high end hotel jobs. No thanks, sir, that's all too good for us. We don't need no stinking professional development at a high-end, good paying, networking opportunity of a hotel. Pfffft.

Downtown Milwaukee needs another condo like the road needs another Camry.

Idiots. All of them.

In the words of Cinnamon - I disapprove.

Feel Lucky, Punk?

Courtesy of Nick... now that's the opposite of demotivation!!!

Let's Blame Drinking Instead of the Serial Killer

The JS has a story today about "foul play" being a factor in the recent murder of Luke Homan whose body was found in the Mississippi river. When I first read this line:

"Homan is 8th found in river since '97"

I thought, hooray, they've figured out that there's a much larger problem.

But I was wrong. Drinking is to blame. Partying is to blame. Let's turn it into something we can create groups of the already converted who will vow not to party hearty.

People. Eight murders in the last 10 years, all the same age range, all male, all in the river?????

It's a serial killer.

If the Journal had a whit of sense and dug deeper or all the things that the media claims to be of benefit for us, they'd have raised it.