LiveScience reports: “Fishermen have long known that you can drive earthworms to the surface with a strange technique called worm grunting.
The trick involves driving a wooden stake into the ground and then rubbing the top of the stake with a long piece of steel called a rooping iron. It generates a peculiar grunting sound that drives nearby earthworms to the surface where they can be easily collected for fish bait.”
I wonder if something similar could get the worms out of congress.
I think I’d have to work pretty hard to think of a less significant question than the one I pose below, but it nags at me. I’ve been meaning to blog about it for some time.
How come there isn’t any pine-scented room deodorizer anymore?
Oh, I know you can buy it during Christmas season. This is especially for people like me who have artificial trees (I’m a middle-aged bachelor, for pete’s sake—it’s not like I’m denying my heirs a Precious Memory). It allows us to pretend that we have a real tree desiccating in our living spaces, as long as we keep the lights pretty low and our eyes squinty. Which we middle-aged bachelors do quite a lot anyway, because we’re still trying to master that Charles Bronson thing that somebody said worked so well with the chicks in the ’70s.
Even longer ago than that, when I was but a wee keebler, pine was about the only kind of room deodorizer you could get. It came in a narrow glass bottle. You unscrewed the steel cap and pulled it outward, and a thick terrycloth wick that was attached to it came out of the bottle. You pulled it as far as you liked, depending on whether you wanted “a vague whiff of Douglas Fir from a distant mountain” or “bathing in a vat of Pine-Sol,” and evaporation did the rest. The bottle generally lasted about three days, I think, no matter how much wick you exposed. But it was a pine smell, and it pleased me. Continue reading Any pine in the Glade?
Sen. Jeff Bingaman (D-N.M.) wants to reinstate The Fairness Doctrine. I believe that is the Democratic Party position also. Sen. Bingamen said, “I would want this station and all stations to have to present a balanced perspective and different points of view instead of always hammering away at one side of the political . . . I guess my thought is that talk radio and media generally should have a higher calling than just reflect a particular point of view. I think they should use their authority to try to – their broadcast power to present an informed discussion of public issues.”
But as you may already know, when they say “talk radio,” they really mean Rush Limbaugh.
French President Sarkozy owns and can manage the use of his image, says his lawyer, so the little voodoo doll kit with his likeness must go.
Overstreet’s Auralia’s Colors gains a review from Mr. D.
There are two ways to write fantasy, which I’ll call the realistic way, and the fabulous way. The Lord of the Rings is an example of the first, as is George R.R. Martin’s A Game of Thrones and its sequels. . . . The fabulous way is less often attempted, and seems to be much harder to do. Examples would include Tolkien’s own Smith of Wooton Major, and Lord Dunsany’s The King of Elfland’s Daughter.
Auralia’s C. would be . . .
Got a flu shot tonight. The first of my life.
Flu shots are another of those items that I’ve always categorized as “for old people.” I’ve always figured I’m tough enough to survive the flu.
But I got the flu last winter, and my reasoning changed to, “Yeah, I could survive the flu, but I, uh… would have a problem working it into my busy schedule.”
On the plus side, from all I’ve read over the decades, the flu vaccine seems to only be correctly targeted about once every three years.
More news below, for those of you who never get enough of listening to middle-aged men describing their ills… Continue reading If you’ve got a minute, I’ll show you my surgery scar too!
Charlie “Tremendous” Jones, a publisher, speaker, and salesman, died of cancer last week after a good (relatively short) life of loving people to the Lord. He challenged individuals and audiences to read well and often, saying “You are what you read” and “You can tell a leader by the books he’s read” (roughly quoted).
Charlie was one of those irritating people who laugh and rejoice in the things of the Lord so boldly it makes us quiet people uncomfortable. When I heard of his death, the man who told me said, “Last time I spoke with him, Charlie said, ‘My doctor gave me good news! The cancer has spread, I will soon be with my Savior in Heaven!'”
I heard a man say that Charlie made him a reader several years ago–by fire in sense. Charlie called the man up before an audience to ask him what he was currently reading, assuming he was reading something worthwhile. The man wasn’t a reader and stumbled around a bit, trying to answer. Charlie called him a loser–in a cheery way–embarassing him deeply. Later, he hugged the man, like he did many people, and got his address. Charlie sent the man several leadership and spiritual life related books (Pilgrim’s Progress may have been included, I don’t remember). The gift, at least in part, turned the man away from his anger and made him a reader. (I can’t recommend that method for building readers, btw.)
Now God has blessed Charlie by freeing him from his earthly body. May He raise up more just like him.
Novelist Orson Scott Card, “a Democrat and a newspaper columnist” dares to mention the emperor’s distinct lack of clothing in a Mormon publication today:
This housing crisis didn’t come out of nowhere. It was not a vague emanation of the evil Bush administration.
It was a direct result of the political decision, back in the late 1990s, to loosen the rules of lending so that home loans would be more accessible to poor people. Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac were authorized to approve risky loans.
Orson, I’d upgrade my home security if I were you.
(Hat tip: Blue Crab Boulevard)
I’ve been a fan of John Sandford’s for a few years now. He writes a gripping, fast-moving story, with interesting characters and lots of verisimilitude. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s a Minnesotan (he’s really the journalist John Camp) and sets most of his stories in our (his and my) state. (I have this odd delusion that places aren’t really important until there are stories about them. The places I enjoy visiting, or want to visit, are generally places where stories I like took place.)
But I’d gotten a little disillusioned with Sandford’s recent work. Lucas Davenport, hero of the Prey series, started out as a fascinating madman, a borderline psychopath cop (who also happened to be a video game millionaire) so passionate about hunting down serial killers that he often crossed the line into “judge, jury and executioner” territory.
The problem was, it was clear Davenport couldn’t go on like that indefinitely. If he kept doing his police work in that manner, eventually he’d either get caught or lose his mind entirely. So Sandford, discovering he had a hit series on his hands, took the rational course of finding Davenport a good woman, getting him married, and settling him down.
The downside of that was that Davenport got a little dull. Sandford appears to have compensated for that by making the crimes more appalling; adding an increased level of horror to his stories. It works to an extent, but I don’t like the series as much as I used to.
So I’m happy to report that Dark of the Moon, starring the spin-off character Virgil Flowers, is much less edgy. Its main appeal comes from fully realized characters and an intriguing mystery. Continue reading Dark of the Moon, by John Sandford
The Internet Monk has a great rant on Halloween here.
My position is, basically, I agree with him. But I fear we’ve gotten to a place where it doesn’t matter anymore. The holiday has been coopted by the occultists–largely because we allowed it to be.
Hat tip: The Thinklings.