Last night we played the last place team in our division and barely escaped with a 12-7 victory. Actually, we all threw pretty decent darts, but “The ‘B’ Team” has either really improved since we last played them, or they were throwing awesome. Or both.

I had a 5-mark, two 3BCs, a ton-20 and a ton. And I wound up 3-3 for the night. My own damn fault, because I blew both of my cricket games in singles. I was playing a strong player and threw six darts that didn’t count for anything plus some one marks. That ain’t winning darts. How I could be on bulls but miss three throws at the 19 just blows my mind.

Three weeks left in the season against three tough teams. Eberhardt (Scrooge Pub) at home, then Alley Ratz at 3 Alley Pub and our long anticipated rematch with the Blessed Bulls at Bless U Pub. Should be interesting. We have a lock on a playoff spot already, but it would be nice to sneak past Alley Ratz for first place. Probably gonna need some help to do that at this point.

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Nomad has a very nice link to a YouTube video which gives some good safety tips when walking the sidewalks of Seoul. In case you missed it there, here it is.

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A person I never met, but one who’s writing I admired. As she lay dying I was touched by the testimonials of her many friends and admirers. And I was reminded that to be truly loved is ultimately the greatest measure of success one can achieve in a lifetime.

Here’s a quote that I think captures her unique ability to cut to the heart of the matter in a concise and insightful manner that few writers ever master:

A society that allows Playboy is not a society that allows women to be stoned to death for adultery. Human nature being what it is, we’re probably stuck with either burkas or naked balloon breasts forever. I know which I prefer.—Catherine Siepp

Her good friend Moxie has a tribute here.

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

–khalil gibran

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My parents raised me tenderly,
I was their only son.
My mind got mixed with ramblin’
When I was all so young,
And I left my home the first time
When I was twelve and one.
I’m a long time a-comin’, Maw,
An’ I’ll be a long time gone.

On the western side of Texas,
On the Texas plains,
I tried to find a job o’work
But they said I’s young of age.
My eyes they burned when I heard,
“Go home where you belong!”
I’m a long time a-comin’,
An’ I’ll be a long time gone.

I remember when I’s ramblin’
Around with the carnival trains,
Different towns, different people,
Somehow they’re all the same.
I remember children’s faces best,
I remember travelin’ on.
I’m a long time a-comin’,
I’ll be a long time gone.

I once loved a fair young maid
An’ I ain’t too big to tell,
If she broke my heart a single time,
She broke it ten or twelve.
I walked and talked all by myself,
I did not tell no one.
I’m a long time a-comin’, babe,
An’ I’ll be a long time gone.

Many times by the highwayside,
I tried to flag a ride.
With bloodshot eyes and gritting teeth,
I’d watch the cars roll by.
The empty air hung in my head
I’s thinkin’ all day long.
I’m a long time a-comin’,
An’ I’ll be a long time gone.

You might see me on your crossroads
When I’m a-passin’ through.
Remember me how you wished to
As I’m a-driftin’ from your view.
I ain’t got the time to think about it,
I got too much to get done.
Well, I’m a long time comin’
An’ I’ll be a long time gone.

If I can’t help somebody
With a word or song,
If I can’t show somebody
They are travelin’ wrong.
But I know I ain’t no prophet
An’ I ain’t no prophet’s son.
I’m just a long time a-comin’
An’ I’ll be a long time gone.

So you can have your beauty,
It’s skin deep and it only lies.
And you can have your youth,
It’ll rot before your eyes.
Just give to me my gravestone
With it clearly carved upon:
“I’s a long time a-comin’,
An’ I’ll be a long time gone.”

–Bob Dylan

I actually took the Long Time Gone moniker almost 20 years ago when I played in the CompuServe chat rooms. It was inspired by the Crosby, Stills, & Nash song of the same name…“it’s been a long time comin’, it’s gonna be a long time gone…”. Just wanted to be clear that I have no association with the Dixie Bitches song. But having found this Dylan tune by chance, I must say it is a good fit and henceforth it will be the “official song” of LTG.

Just so you know.

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I’m full of the spirit of Valentines Day this year (oh was the title of this post misleading? Sue me!).

Jenn at I’ve got two shoes has a great post about the bag one of her students used to bring candy to school.

Here it is:

If you can’t make it out it says:

“Loving You
Give the world the best you have and you’ll get kicked in the teeth”

A perfect Hallmark moment. It may not have the utility of “Bah Humbug” but damn if it doesn’t capture the essence of love.

And what is Valentine’s Day without poetry?

I ask but one thing of you, only one
That always you will be my dream of you.
That never shall I wake to find untrue
All this I have dreamed and rested on.
Forever vanished, like a vision gone.
Out into the night.

–Amy Lowell
Roger that.

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At Dolce tonight, feeling kinda blue.

This was one of the songs playing on the music machine:

Four strong winds that blow lonely
Seven seas that run high
All those things that don’t change
Come what may
If the good times are all gone
Then I’m bound for movin’ on
I’ll look for you if I’m ever back this way…

I guess that’s a Canadian folk song. The Neil Young version is what was playing tonight.

Things change, it is the nature of life. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck though.

Ah well. What’s done is done.

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Long trip. Wheels down landing. Nothing else to report.

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I made it back to Virginia without incident, and that’s about the best you can hope for when it comes to air travel during the holidays. The planes were jam packed of course, but I had an aisle seat and did the best I could with the confinement that is steerage, I mean economy class.

The house is all decorated up for Christmas and looking good. Since my last visit Carol has installed hardwood floors and the place is looking a hell of a lot better than it did when I lived here. Have to give credit to the son-in-law who is quite the handyman.

You might have noticed that I’m posting this at 3:30 am–yeah, my body thinks it’s Saturday afternoon. Oh well, I will adapt to the time change–probably a day or two before I head back.

Got a nice cartoon from a former coworker (and friend) at the Department of Education. So, Jim you be careful should any altercations break out at Dolce Vita.

More later….

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Well, if you are even half as bored as I am today, you will love watching these machines in action!

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Someone sent me this on email. I kinda liked it. Perhaps you will as well.

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Well, Sunday I had some company over for Mexican food. Burritos (beef and chicken), Spanish rice, and refried beans. Root beer floats for dessert. I overcooked for six, got four and had lots of leftovers. So, my coworkers enjoyed breakfast burritos this morning. Now, I am definetly not in the Big Hominid’s league when it comes to cooking, simple and easy is my style. But I guess it surprises people that I can even pull that off, at least based on the reaction of my Korean employees. Ah well, let them have their delusions–good for the image and all that. Anyway, it was fun. Sunday we ate, talked and watched a few episodes of Coupling. Too hot for anything else, and we had a good time.

Tonight was dart league, and I managed a 5-1 night and Dolce Vita remains undefeated. So, it’s all good. Such as it is….

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Ed Morrissey at Captain’s Quarters posts today on the subject of the Democrats call for retreat in Iraq. He recalls that the Democrats took a similar position in 1864 when the party platform called for a negotiated peace with the Confederate States of America and a withdrawal of U.S. troops from the South. It’s standard bearer was General George McClellan, who used his military credibility to make the case that the war could not be won.

Not even during the Vietnam War did a major American party position itself to support abject retreat as a wartime political platform. For that, one has to go back to the Civil War, when the Democrats demanded a negotiated peace with the Confederate States of America and a withdrawal from the South. Celebrating the popularity of former General George McClellan, who had come from the battlefield to represent a party whose platform demanded a negotiated settlement (which McClellan later disavowed), the Confederates assumed that the war could be over within days of McClellan’s presumed victory over the controversial and hated Abraham Lincoln. Even some Republicans began to question whether Lincoln should stand for reelection–until Sherman took Atlanta and exposed McClellan as a defeatist and an incompetent of the first order.

Murtha’s demand for a pullout gave the party’s leadership a chance to openly embrace defeatism, much as McClellan did for Northern Democrats in 1864, using McClellan’s field experience for the credibility to argue that the American Army could not hope to defeat the enemy it faced.

History is a funny thing, isn’t it?

Howard Dean is the standard bearer for the Democratic Party. Unfortunately, that standard is now a white flag.

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The words left behind by this soldier are quite inspirational.

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This guy is rapidly becoming a daily must read for me. I almost always take away some nugget of wisdom, and even when I don’t I can appreicate some damn fine creative writing. Not that I don’t trust you to click a link, but I am going to reproduce his Arbor Day post in its entirety. I just like the way this guy thinks….

Arbor Day meditation

I was sitting under a tree, feeling glum.

The tree asked, “What’s up?”

I said, “You know, I’ve done things I’m proud of, and things I’m not proud of.”

The tree said, “It sounds to me like you’ve got something specific in mind.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Just some things I’ve said and done recently which are bothering me.”

“I’m only a tree,” the tree said, “but I’ve been sitting in this spot for centuries, collecting wisdom from all over. Tell me what’s on your mind and maybe I can offer some insight.”

“OK,” I said, heaving a sigh. “Let’s say you’ve gotten into a fight with someone.”

“A female someone?” the tree asked slyly.

I smiled. “Yeah, a female someone. And let’s say that… well… you both said things you regret. Things you might have meant, or might not.”

“You’re not sure if you meant what you said?” asked the tree.

“No, I’m not. I really don’t know,” I replied. “I sure as hell meant them the night I said them, but now…”

“Now you think that maybe you had your head up your knothole,” said the tree wisely.

“Yeah, that’s about the size of it. But I’m still angry, see. She said some awful things that night, and it wasn’t just that night, but the night before, too. I think she meant what she’d said.”

“I see. Have you thought about simply forgiving and forgetting? Have you thought about apologizing for what you said?” asked the tree.

“Apologizing? Forgiving? Forgetting?” I asked, incredulous. “Tree, I don’t think I’m there yet. And the last things I said and wrote to her were… well, they pretty much killed any possibility of further dialogue.”

“So it seems. You strike me as something of an arrogant bastard, if you don’t mind my saying so,” said the tree.

I kept silent. The tree seized the opportunity to keep talking:

“Did you ever see that movie, Karate Kid 2?” the tree asked.

“Yeah, I remember it,” I said.

“Remember the beginning of the movie, when Mister Miyagi has the chance to kill that evil karate instructor, but he doesn’t?”

“Yeah. Pretty cool,” I said.

“Daniel-san asks him why he didn’t do it. Do you recall Mister Miyagi’s answer?”

I racked my brains. Then it hit me.

“He said, ‘For man with no forgiveness in heart, living worse punishment than death,’” I quoted. I looked up at the tree. “Are you saying I should forgive her, anyway?”

“You’re pretty good at quoting movie lines, aren’t you. Yeah; try some unilateral forgiveness,” suggested the tree.

I was angry again. “But she doesn’t think she did anything wrong,” I said, staring into the branches above me.

“And you don’t think you did anything wrong, either, do you?” asked the tree.

“I gave her so much, and she kicked me in the damn head,” I snarled.

“The selfsame head that’s stuck up your knothole?” grinned the tree.

I simply glared at the ground. It’s hard to take when a vegetable is dispensing wisdom you don’t want to hear.

The tree pressed its advantage. “Just a little while ago, you expressed regret for things you’ve said and done. At least we know you’re feeling sorry, even if you are still angry.”

“So?” I asked.

“So,” said the tree, “that’s your starting point.”

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“That’s because men are perennially stupid,” sighed the tree.

I looked up. “You’re not a guy? Not some fatherly wisdom figure?”

“Deep wisdom is always female,” laughed the tree.

“Women are fucked in the head,” I said. “They say one thing, they mean another, they don’t make any rational sense.”

“And there’s your problem in a nutshell,” said the tree. “You’re looking for sense. Do you think you can be philosophical about matters of the heart?”

“No,” I admitted. “A man can try, but… ultimately, no.”

“So– back to that starting point we talked about. I don’t know her side of the story, but it sounds to me like you’ve got some regrets. Do me a favor, would you? Try this. Stand up.”

I stood up, somewhat reluctantly.

“The wind is going to blow hard in a second,” said the tree. “When it does, just shout I’m sorry into it.”

I didn’t want to do this.

“Trust me,” the tree said, apparently reading my mind. “It’ll make you feel better.”

A slight breeze caressed my face, then began to build.

“You ready?” asked the tree. I nodded.

The wind picked up, turned harsh. The tree’s leaves rustled and its branches writhed violently. It was like watching some mysterious, inhuman struggle.

“Do it!” boomed the tree.

“I’M SORRY!” I shouted.

“The wind is still blowing! Do it again!” shouted the tree.

“I’M SORRY!” I shouted.

“Come on, keep it up! You’re making progress!” exhorted the tree.

I’m sorry…
I’m sorry…
I’m sorry…

I shouted until I was hoarse. Then I finally slumped down. I felt intensely pained, but strangely relieved. It was a bizarre, paradoxical feeling.

The wind ended.

“Not bad,” said the tree, thoroughly impressed. “Maybe the wind will carry your message to her.”

“Maybe,” I said. What was I hoping for?

“If the message reaches her, what’ll you do?” asked the tree.

I thought for a bit. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I really don’t know.”

A soft breeze rustled the tree. I thought I could hear its smile.

“One day at a time,” the tree whispered. “Just take it one day at a time.”

Thanks, Kevin.

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I just love this. Bill over at INDC has a link to the National Lampoon website with lots of Superman comic covers and commentary that irrefutably prove the man from Krypton was a big dick. Go have a look, it is hilarious.

By the way, some would say that I have a little Superman in me. They would be right.

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Such a small little word. So powerful when it comes from the lips of the POTUS. When the despots of the world understand that the USA says what it means and means what it says, things can only get better. Lots of good came from Afghanistan and Iraq, often overlooked is that the U.S. regained its credibility. Paper tiger? Go ask Omar and Saddam. John Gibson has a great column on this topic. Read it NOW!

Via EspressoRoast

UPDATE: This poster seems to go nicely with John Gibson’s article linked above. It’s gotta be a recurring image in baby Assad’s nightmares.

From my friend EuroYank. I don’t know what to say about his current rant other than I would like to believe its satire…….

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This is goodbye for awhile. I’m finally outta this hotel. Sadly, I won’t get Internet at my new place until Wednesday or Thursday next week. If I can get to an Internet cafe I will try and drop in to say hi to my faithful readers (both of you! )

I am very excited. Spent over $1000. last night at the BX. Got more to buy today, but probably no more the $500., so I am being as frugal as possible.

OK, I will no doubt miss y’all more than you miss me, but don’t forget me while I’m gone.

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Ashley pointed me to Macho Response several weeks ago. He has a new look, but the same great writing and insights. Be sure and give him a visit.

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His Sunday column in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette makes the point I have been arguing for over a week now:

A controversy you’ve probably heard about, and one that many people haven’t, illustrate why readers cancel subscriptions.

“It’s fun to shoot some people,” Lt. Gen. James Mattis said at a conference in San Diego on Feb. 1. “You go into Afghanistan, you’ve got guys who slap women around for five years because they didn’t wear a veil. Guys like that ain’t got no manhood left anyway, so it’s a helluva lot of fun to shoot them.”

Mattis’ remarks caused conniption fits throughout the news media. Typical was the Miami Herald, which said Mattis should have been given a tougher punishment than the verbal reprimand he received from the commandant of the Marine Corps. “His callous remarks make light of the terrible toll of war,” the Herald whined.

Mattis — arguably our most effective combat leader — already has been ably defended by my friends Ralph Peters and Mac Owens. But I enthusiastically second his sentiment. If I were still a young Marine, I would take enormous pleasure in personally sending Islamofascists to hell.

Journalists who got their panties twisted over Mattis apparently see nothing newsworthy about having the executive vice president and head of news for CNN accuse the U.S. military of deliberately killing journalists.

Eason Jordan, who resigned Friday, told a panel at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, that “he knew of about 12 journalists who had not only been killed by American troops, but had been targeted as a matter of policy,” said Rep. Barney Frank, D-Mass., who was there, and demanded proof, which Jordan could not supply.

The Davos confab ended Jan. 30. Many journalists were there. Yet in my column published last Sunday, I became the first “mainstream” journalist to mention Jordan’s remarks.

If what Jordan said were true, it would be a bigger scandal than Abu Ghraib, about which we in the media have made sure you have heard. And if CNN’s top news executive slandered U.S. troops, that also is — or ought to be –news.

And to those who are arguing that Jordan is somehow a “victim” of blogger McCarthyism, I will defer to the response of the folks who write PowerLine, and were among the most aggressive in pursuing this story:

Now that Eason Jordan has resigned, folks are eager to defend him instead of trying to ignore his situation. The defense comes in two forms: first, that he made a mistake but that the mistake should not have cost him his job; second, that he is the victim of McCarthyism, sacked for expressing unpopular views.

The answer to both defenses is essentially the same. Once strong evidence emerged that Jordan had accused the U.S. military of systematically murdering journalists, his legitimate options were the following: (1) he could try to show, through the tape of his remarks, that he made no such accusation, (2) he could present evidence to support his charge, (3) he could retract his charge and apologize, or (4) he could modify his charge and present evidence to support the new charge.

Jordan opted for none of the above. At that point, the question became whether CNN would be led by a monger of vicious and unsupported anti-American rumors. CNN, hoping to remain distinct from Al Jazeera at least for the time being, apparently answered that question in the negative. Where’s the injustice to Jordan in this scenario?

I will concede that Jordan’s right of free speech allows him to make his sick accusations. Will you concede that the exercise of free speech also comes with consequences? Jordan was told to put up or shut up. At the end of the day, CNN told him to shut up. Works for me.

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Alright, this young man thought it would be cute to “door” kids as they rode their bikes. Fate, or Darwinism, or Karma or something thought otherwise.

This clip is stunning. Don’t watch it if you will be upset by cosmic justice.

No, I don’t think the punishment fit the crime. It always makes me sad to see a wasted life. Yes, it was fatal.

Found at Insignificant thoughts.

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