perfidy

I was shopping for ideas for a 4th anniversary present and came across this entirely unhelpful one.

If you want to avoid the hassle of shopping for a 5th anniversary present, consider $60 worth of pears for your 4th. Not only is it a stupid gift, it's a cheap one too; I don't know which tack would embarrass me more.

Nothing says, "I Love You" better than a hamper full of pears and cheese. Except, maybe, every other thing you could think of.

Transcribed by Mr. and Mrs. and Mrs. Zambesi

From The Album of the Soundtrack of the Trailer of the Film of Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Good evening. The last scene was interesting from the point of view of a professional logician because it contained a number of logical fallacies; that is, invalid propositional constructions and syllogistic forms, of the type so often committed by my wife.

'All wood burns,' states Sir Bedevere. 'Therefore,' he concludes, 'all that burns is wood.' This is, of course, pure bullshit. Universal affirmatives can only be partially converted: all of Alma Cogan is dead, but only some of the class of dead people are Alma Cogan. 'Oh yes,' one would think. However, my wife does not understand this necessary limitation of the conversion of a proposition; consequently, she does not understand me, for how can a woman expect to appreciate a professor of logic, if the simplest cloth-eared syllogism causes her to flounder?

For example, given the premise, 'all fish live underwater' and 'all mackerel are fish', my wife will conclude, not that 'all mackerel live underwater', but that 'if she buys kippers it will not rain', or that 'trout live in trees', or even that 'I do not love her any more.' This she calls 'using her intuition'. I call it 'crap', and it gets me very irritated because it is not logical. 'There will be no supper tonight,' she will sometimes cry upon my return home. 'Why not?' I will ask. 'Because I have been screwing the milkman all day,' she will say, quite oblivious of the howling error she has made. 'But,' I will wearily point out, 'even given that the activities of screwing the milkman and getting supper are mutually exclusive, now that the screwing is over, surely then, supper may now, logically, be got.' 'You don't love me any more,' she will now often postulate. 'If you did, you would give me one now and again, so that I would not have to rely on that rancid Pakistani for my orgasms.' 'I will give you one after you have got me my supper,' I now usually scream, 'but not before'-- as you understand, making her bang contingent on the arrival of my supper. 'God, you turn me on when you're angry, you ancient brute!' she now mysteriously deduces, forcing her sweetly throbbing tongue down my throat. 'Fuck supper!' I now invariably conclude, throwing logic somewhat joyously to the four winds, and so we thrash about on our milk-stained floor, transported by animal passion, until we sink back, exhausted, onto the cartons of yogurt.

I'm afraid I seem to have strayed somewhat from my original brief. But in a nutshell: sex is more fun than logic-- one cannot prove this, but it 'is' in the same sense that Mount Everest 'is', or that Alma Cogan 'isn't'.

Goodnight.

"Grist", in this case, used as in the third of the definitions from Merriam-Webster.

Interesting article by Mark Steyn, a writer I always enjoy reading, in (tomorrow's) Telegraph.

On close reading, particularly of the last half, a reasonable person could get the impression the Brits have gone barmy. It makes most of what you think you know about excessive political correctness seem rather quaint.

You'll know you've arrived when you see the bit about gay horses. Trust me.

My summary of the Michael Jackson verdict, dittoed from an email I just sent to a friend in PA who insisted that she had to know what I thought of the matter:

Well, I don't blame the jury; I think they did a fine job. The prosecutor screwed up by bringing a weak case, and then by trying it in the newspapers. He should be ashamed.

Richard Jeni, one of my favorite standup comedians, did a show in January or February on HBO (called "A Big Steaming Pile of Me"), in which his opening bit was about Michael Jackson. Sample bits (paraphrased): "Easiest job in the world? Michael Jackson's lawyer - think about it: you have to create reasonable doubt in the jury's mind. (Pretends to point toward Jackson) Ladies & gentlemen of the jury - there's your reasonable doubt. I mean, look at the guy!"

Another part was about needing a jury of your peers. His point was something like "You could troll the entire human gene pool, 24/7, for a month and not come up with one bit of whatever THAT is." So how did they find a jury of his peers, I wonder? They didn't, which is a relief, because he's utterly unique in a damp and clammy sort of way.

He's an easy target, and could well be innocent of all pedophilia. I don't doubt that he was innocent of this pedophilia, primarily because his accusers were so skeezy, even while I have my questions about his proclivities in that area.

And he's a total wack-job, which reinforces the "easy target". But good for him - he got off, and if he could just take a couple years to get his feces together, maybe we'll never have to see or hear from him again.

I'd be OK with that.

Yup - that about sums it up for me, not that I care.

Oh, and happy Birthday, B - Do I get any retro-points for having edited the childish street profanity out of my continuation play to your only-peripherally-about-the-King-of-Pop post?

[wik] It could just be me, but does MJ's lawyer, Thomas Mesereau, look like he could be someone's grandma?

Something I've been looking forward to, perched on the edge of my seat, even. The jury in the Michael Jackson "Is he beyond a reasonable doubt a freaky child molestor" trial is due to announce its verdict in a few minutes after seven days of deliberation. Now, most people have always felt that he was a creepy child diddler. But now we'll know whether or not the justice system will consider him such.

But that's not the birthday present. This is:

It's always somehow heartening to know that there are people like this in the world.

As of 3:50 this morning, I am 36 years old. This is, I think, the last year I will reasonably be able to say that I am in my "mid thirties," so I suppose I should make the most of it or something. In many important material aspects, it won't be my birthday until wednesday, when I get my first real paycheck. Then I can go shopping.

So far, and I am keeping track, three members of my family have wished me a happy birthday. Aunt Diane gets bonus points for getting me a card that arrived on Saturday. My cousin Chris gets bonus points because I didn't expect an email from him. He turns 37 in a week, so he has one week left of his mid thirties. My mom, whom I love, gets half a point, because she wished me happy birthday when she replied to an email I sent her this morning.

Dad gets zero points. This is a composite score because he gets -1 point for not wishing me happy birthday when I called him this morning, and +1 point because that call was to decide where to meet for lunch, which he will pay for because it's my birthday.

The rest of my family gets zero points; as do friends and cobloggers, because while it would have been nice to have a happy birthday greeting, it's not like I went out of my way to let them know that I had a birthday coming up.

Mrs. Buckethead gets -1 point because she didn't wish me a happy birthday at all this morning. Should I still give her money to buy me a birthday present, or should I just buy a iPod?

[wik] My son gets +1 point because he's adorable, and has no fricken clue what a birthday is.

[alsø wik] My friend Trish gets +1 point for emailing me a happy birthday. And, she talks sf. Another 1/2 point.

[alsø alsø wik] Mrs. Buckethead gets another -1/2 point for calling about the air conditioning and the ants in the upstairs bathroom, and again failing to wish me a happy birthday.

[wi nøt trei a høliday in Sweden this yër?] Lots of movement in the scores over lunch. Dad is up to +1 1/2 points for giving me a really funny Farside birthday card, and for cash. My stepmom is up a point for picking out that card, and for the cash. Mrs. Buckethead down another point for two more calls and still no happy birthday. And out of left field, Polly is up +10 points for calling on my birthday and offering me a higher paying job.

[see the løveli lakes...] Geeklethal and Murdoc are each +1 point for being snide. Especially Murdoc:

Sheesh. If Molly Ringwald was like Buckethead, the movie SIXTEEN CANDLES would have ended like the movie CARRIE…

[the wøndërful telephøne system...] My mom is lobbying for points:

Don't I get any credit for putting a card in the mail on Saturday, even if you get it late?

Sorry mom - no card, no points.

[and mäni interesting furry animals...] Mrs. Buckethead gets another -1 point for three more phone calls without a happy birthday. I hope that it is the heat affecting her higher brain functions. On that note, however, she gets +5 points for getting the air conditioning running again. When temperatures and humidity are both over 90, ac is definitely a good birthday present. And maybe when the house cools down, her brain will start working again.

[including the majestik møøse...] Another unexpected birthday call. The headhunters who got me my current yob called, and wished me a happy birthday. I was going to give them +1 point, but my coworker insisted that this deserves +2 points, seeing as it came from a nominally soulless corporation. +2 it is.

[a Møøse once bit my sister...] A summary of the standings so far, just as I get ready to leave work:

1. Polly the headhunter, +10
2. Nathan the headhunter, +2
3. Trish, Dad, +1 1/2 Also Mrs. Buckethead, even though she still hasn't wished me a happy birthday
4. Murdoc, Geeklethal, Aunt Diane, Cousin Chris, Stepmom, My son, +1 point
5. Mom, +1/2 point
6. The other six billion or so people, 0 points

What kind of scary world is it when two headhunters top your birthday list?

[No realli! She was Karving her initials øn the møøse with the sharpened end of an interspace tøøthbrush given her by Svenge - her brother-in-law -an Oslo dentist and star of many Norwegian møvies: "The Høt Hands of an Oslo Dentist", "Fillings of Passion", "The Huge Mølars of Horst Nordfink"...] Final update: Mom gets +1 point because her card was waiting for me when I got home, and then she called. Mark gets +2 points for wishing me a happy birthday even though he probably didn't know I existed a couple hours before he did so.

[Mynd you, møøse bites Kan be pretty nasti...] Next year's birthday will be dynamite. Huge.

In a Monday morning Telegraph opinion piece, Dr. Bjørn Lomborg opines that environmental scientists might be going 'round the bend:

Last Tuesday, 11 of the world's leading academies of science, including the Royal Society, told us that we must take global warming seriously.

Their argument is that global warming is due to mankind's use of fossil fuels, that the consequences 100 years from now will be serious, and that we therefore should do something dramatic. We should make substantial and long-term reductions of greenhouse gases along the lines of the Kyoto Protocol.

This is perhaps the strongest indication that well-meaning scientists have gone beyond their area of expertise and are conducting unsubstantiated politicking ahead of next month's meeting of the G8.

Now, granted, he's a political scientist, not an environmental scientist, but he's got a reputation for clear thought, and I'd assert that clear thought might be more enlightening than the howling of doom-mongers.

Here's the thing - part of his current exposition of clear thought, embodied in the article linked above, revolves not around debating the correctness of the views of Kyoto Treaty proponents. He points out that, even if you accept them all at face value, they're missing something important. The pro-Kyoto arguments go into great detail about what "will" happen if Kyoto's not put in place, with facts, figures, pictures, and for all I know, hand-puppets. So they're clearly hip to using data to make their case for projections of a dire future.

The same scientific facility and diligence could be applied to a post-Kyoto world, too, wouldn't you think? Lomborg does. And he uses their own projections to reveal that which they "know" but don't share with us, namely that if Kyoto is put into force, the bad effects it's supposed to delay will only be delayed by six years. 6 - not 60 or 600, six.

Color me unimpressed.

He goes on to point out:

Moreover, they should also tell what they expect the cost of the Kyoto Protocol to be. That may not come easy to natural scientists, but there is plenty of literature on the subject, and the best guess is that the cost of doing a very little good for the third world 100 years from now would be $150 billion per year for the rest of this century.

Never mind - color me actively opposed. Unless they cease the pretense that this is anything but a way to hobble the developed world so that the third world can catch up, disdain for Kyoto proponents is all I can muster. Not for nothing did the US Senate vote unanimously in favor of a resolution calling the Kyoto Treaty a "bad thing" or words to that effect.

[wik] See also Robert Novak's latest, in which he reports:

"In reality, Kyoto was never about environmental policy," a White House aide told me. "It was designed as an elaborate, predatory trade strategy to level the American and European economies." The problem for Europeans has been that Bush refused to go along, ruining the desired leveling effect. The EU's industries have been devastated, while the U.S. has prospered.

Europeans' desire to bring U.S. prosperity down to their level is no conspiracy theory of American conservatives. Margot Wallstrom, the Swedish vice president of the European Commission, in 2001 (when she was commissioner for the environment) said the Kyoto Protocol was "not a simple environmental issue . . . this is about international relations, this is about economy -- about trying to create a level playing field."

They should be encouraged to intercourse themselves, sez me.
[/wik]

No wallflower, Lomborg, he finishes by pointing out what we perhaps might ought to be worrying about, including AIDS, malaria, malnutrition, free trade and clean drinking water; all things that perhaps we might be able to positively affect.

And, unspoken in Lomborg's article - the comparison between those challenges and the alleged challenge of global warming. Those maladies are inarguably bad, but global warming, and the shifts in global climate, have been occurring since the Earth initially cooled from whatever flaming rock it used to be, and I find it hard to credit arguments that there's some static configuration the climate on Earth is supposed to have. It certainly wasn't static before mankind and his evil SUVs started tooling around, and I question how reasonable it is to expect it to be so in the future.

(If you can get past the bad plot and the breathlessly overdone drama, I'd recommend Crichton's State of Fear for a decent bibliography of the failings of global warming activists' critical thought processes)

I saw on Rocket Jones that one of his compadres had put hatred for the Yankees into tangible form. Knowing of my dear mother's deep and abiding hatred for the Yankees, I dropped her the link in an email. Two hours and sixteen minutes later, I get this reply:

I ordered 6 of them for $5. Pick out a spot on the Xterra.

I love my mom.

Kimber reinvented the 1911 pattern semi-automatic when it introduced the Custom .45 ACP. Before Kimber, getting an accurate .45 meant spending hundreds or even thousands of dollars for the tuning and accessories necessary to create a first-rate .45. The Custom came with many of these features standard, and had out-of-the-box accuracy rivaling the best match grade pistols.

After I purchased my Custom II, I rushed over to my local shooting range. I loaded up my eight round magazine, grabbing ear protection and safety goggles, and picked a lane. I am not a marksman. I don’t have time to polish my skills. But you could cover my first eight shots at ten yards with a playing card. From a gun I had never fired before, of a type I was largely unfamiliar with.

The rangemaster walked over and asked, “Kimber?” Shit! They’ve got mind reading rangemasters!

“Right in one. How’d you know?” I asked.

“I heard you say it was a new gun. Only Kimber and an accurized Springfield are that tight fresh out of the box. And the Kimber’s a thousand bucks cheaper.”

That made me feel very happy with my new purchase.

From a distance, the Kimber looks like a standard issue M1911 pistol. But clever Kimber gunsmiths have added lots of goodies. Metal Injection Molding makes all the smaller parts stronger than earlier cast metal parts. The gun is constructed to extremely fine tolerances. The fit is tight but smooth – you can feel it when you operate the slide, and when you pull the trigger. It’s like the difference between the sound of a door closing on a Mercedes, and on a Yugo. You can just tell that one is made a lot better than the other.

The Special Forces are known to be fond of Kimbers. The LAPD SWAT team recently adopted stock Custom II’s as their standard sidearm. And I love mine. The 1911 is a big gun, over two pounds in weight. This, however, helps the shooter control the heavy recoil from the big .45ACP round. For me, the 1911 feels like an extension of my arm, and shooting is an utterly natural process. The big grip fits perfectly in my hand; and as I mentioned, the Kimber is a finely made piece of iron.

From the shooting times article:

The 1911 continues to be cloned by dozens of companies both here and abroad. And getting what you pay for doesn't necessarily apply as one can easily spend twice as much for one pistol that won't perform as well as another. First and foremost on the performance list is reliability. The pistol simply must work every time all the time. The pistol must also be "combat accurate." While the definition of this somewhat elusive term varies, any pistol that works every time and can break four inches with five shots at 25 yards is combat accurate. It's a plus if it'll do better than that and reliability is not compromised. Following reliability and accuracy comes stopping power, and the .45 ACP cartridge pretty much takes care of that by itself. It goes without saying that the pistol must contain reliable safety devices, good sights, ergonomics, and a good trigger. In its search for a new 1911 pistol, the LAPD SWAT team selected test pistols from what it considered the five major manufacturers. As one would expect, the testing was rigorous. Every aspect of the pistols was tested, retested, and evaluated. One by one, the guns were eliminated until the final selection was made.

Kimber won by an impressive margin. Kimber makes more than a few 1911-type pistols, but if you're thinking the Kimber tested by LAPD SWAT was one of the top-of-the-line Kimber Custom Shop Target .45s, think again. The pistol the LAPD chose was Kimber's entry level 1911, the Kimber Custom II. A spartan pistol by Kimber standards, the Custom II comes with plenty of special features to qualify its name. These include fixed combat sights (dovetailed front sight), rounded (no-bite) speed hammer, stainless-steel throated barrel, polished feedramp, lowered/flared ejection port, four-pound trigger, extended thumb safety, beavertail grip safety, beveled magazine well, and black checkered rubber grips. Before Kimber most of these features were found only as aftermarket custom options. The Custom II is probably the most .45 ACP 1911 for the money--ever.

That’s why I decided to get one. A .45 is not the most concealable weapon. It would be rather bulky in a shoulder rig. Shooting .45ACP is not the cheapest way to go. But: the Kimber is a joy to shoot, and there are very few handguns better for when the zombies come.

The Kimber is a good zombie defense weapon. By combining accuracy with a big round, while remaining an easily portable handgun, you can’t have a better backup. If you’re shooting (as I will be) Federal Hydra-Shok rounds, you get an extra boost in lethality. These center-pin hollow points make very big holes on the way out. I tested a couple mags on some innocent watermelons, and each melon looked like it had been hit by a 24lb. sledge after only one shot. And you can do it repeatedly from outside the range of claws and teeth – if you’re a half-decent shot, you can get a head shot at respectable (for handgun) ranges. If the zombie come, and all you have is a handgun, I can confidently say that this is the one to have. Bigger guns have problems with accuracy, or even with finding ammo. .45 ACP is common, and you won't find a better combination of stopping power and accuracy.

Final stats and gun porn below the fold:

• Rate of Fire: 3 (you can rip off a full clip pretty quick, and you can reload faster than a typical wheelgun.)
• Magazine Capacity: 2 (8 rounds per mag.)
• Effective Range: 4 (I can get four out of five rounds in the head thingy on the target at 50’ regularly, and I am not an action movie star.)
• Humpability: 6 (for a handgun, it’s a big, albeit reassuring piece of iron.)
• Melee Combat: 3 (I don’t recommend pistol-whipping zombies. If you’re out of ammo, drop the gun and use a Louisville slugger.)
• Zombie Hole Size: 7, or an exit would the size of a cute little kitten. (Using the Federal Hydra-Shok rounds recommended by my friendly neighborhood gun nut. If they can blow the entire back two-thirds of a watermelon away, I think it would do a good job on a Zombie noggin. This would be 6 or even 5 with standard slugs.)

Zombie Incapacitation Potential: 4.6/10*

*Note, again, that in the event of a close-quarters head shot the Hydra-Shok will certainly pulp the zombie’s head. A slug would likely do the same.

[wik] Links fixed

As we go about our daily lives, we are often overwhelmed by the myriad choices he have to make in a day, from the mundane ("Can I make the light...?"), to the major ("What bill can I ignore this month so I can afford bourbon?"). As we make those choices, hundreds in a day, we draw upon our own experiences, our educations, the advice of friends and strangers, or our collective gut.

But one question that we Ministers are often faced with we have no help in answering. Whether it comes up over dinner at our Aspen retreat or privately, as we pass in normal society quietly awaiting the Ende Tyme, the question is always the same:

When the zombies come, how best to kill them?

After some thought (not much, some), we have decided to make an effort to answer our own question. We therefore declare a new feature, the Ministry Caliber Corner, where weaponry large and small will be fired, evaluated, and rated according to its projected capacity to kill the undead. Or re-kill. Whichever.

Your enthusiasm for this feature is, as always, expected.