Everybody seems to be talking about the Iowa Primaries today, wondering how the cold weather will affect turnout.

This is nonsense. In general (there are exceptions) there are only two temperatures in winter, up here in the northern plains—colder than yesterday, and warmer than yesterday. Today is warmer than yesterday, so cold shouldn’t be a factor.

What, you ask, is the significance of the Iowa Caucuses?

The answer is simple—none at all. As all informed people know, nothing of any importance of any kind has ever happened in Iowa. Iowa is like a square-shaped force field that sucks significance out of everything that crosses its borders.

Full disclosure—I have Iowa roots. Both of my father’s parents were children of first-generation Norwegian immigrants who settled in Iowa, then relocated to Minnesota in the 1910s (for the sake of the children, I have no doubt). Even when I was a kid, forty or fifty years later, people still referred to us as “the Iowa folks” in my home town (I think that counts as hate speech nowadays). I also attended two colleges in Iowa, one of which I liked.

Nevertheless, the tragic fact remains that speaking of important events in Iowa is like talking about monsoons in the Sahara, or thoughtful Hollywood actors. It’s an oxymoron. Tonight’s exercises will give Iowans a short-lived feeling of being in the spotlight, and they’ve got it coming, heaven knows. But when the winners tell you they’ve got momentum, remember they’re talking about a state whose greatest claim to fame is that it’s the birthplace of Capt. James T. Kirk.

Who doesn’t even exist.

But they don’t know that in Iowa.

UPDATE: Just to let you know, I probably won’t post tomorrow evening. I have an appointment to give blood, and then there’s a Viking Age Society meeting, so my time will be tight.

Do not believe any rumors that I’ve been kidnapped by Iowan terrorists. There is no truth whatever to that rumor. And I’m being very humanely treated.

So, let’s play a little game in this post for the holidays, if you’re willing. I’ll type a sentence, and you follow it with a sentence of your own. The sentences can be about anything, but each one must contain one word from the previous sentence. Just one word. Anyone can join in as often as he likes. The only other rule (aside from those of public decency) is that a participant may not follow himself.

Sound fun? Diverting? Something the Thinklings would do? All right then, I’ll begin.

“Have a holly, jolly Christmas” may be my second least preferred seasonal rerun, close on the heels of “Santa Baby.”

The 1507 Waldseemuller map will go on display in the Library of Congress this month, but historians don’t understand it fully. The map was designed only thirteen years after Columbus landed on this side of the ocean, and modern scholars don’t know how the mapmakers knew enough to draw the land and oceans as accurately as they did.

TINFOIL HAT: So, why don’t we know how they could have designed this map? Could it be that someone doesn’t want us to know? Martians, or perhaps more likely, Brazilians?!?

The FDA reports “that regular consumption of Oreo’s Double Stuf cookies could lead to an increased tolerance to stuf,” according to this Onion report. I’ll bet this reduces stress too. I need to head to the store.

The Springfield, Oregon, police have been overrun by gnomes among other things. “Somebody stole 75 lawn ornaments from around town and placed them meticulously on and around the lawn of one house on Oct. 17,” reports the AP. Now they are at the police station.

“We need to get them out of here,” Capt. Richard Harrison said.

Oh, yes, you do, Captain Harrison, but that won’t be the last of them. They will come again, and they will come here too. The gnomes are on the move!

Hey, hey! That’s a monkey–a Japanese macaque monkey in the snow, to be exact. More monkeys can be seen here.

The fortune cookie maker Wonton Food has released less-than-upbeat messages in their cookies in response to consumers who wanted “more fortunes with actual predictions rather than cryptic sayings,” reports the NY Times. The reporter asks, “Was one writer having a bad day? (‘Perhaps you’ve been focusing too much on yourself.’) Were the cookies giving voice to worries about the economy or terrorism? (‘There may be a crisis looming, be ready for it.’)”

Here are some message suggestions: “What are you looking for, advice from a cookie?” “Don’t eat here again.” “She’s not the one for you.” “Make sure you still have your wallet.” “Reconsider.” “Refinance.” “Ask for a refund.”

Any suggestions you have?

Whereas I once was on vacation, I have returned to the office. As you can see from my new webcam, I am hard at work.