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Wednesday, October 15, 2003 |
$87 Billion Reasons.
Even though I'm against the war in Iraq and think the President and his
team lied to us to get us there, I think maybe the right thing to do is
at least support the $87 billion. About $67 billion... [Oliver Willis: Like Kryptonite To Stupid]
Yes, and to try to make it a loan is
stupid. The Bushies said, leading up to the war that Iraq's oil would
pay for the war. This turned out, like everythng else about this war,
to be wrong -- the oil won't come anywhere near this. But if we tried
to make the oil pay for it, it would certainly look like the oil is the
reason we're there (I'm not saying it isn't). But once we've done this,
the right thing to do is do it right.
But the $87 billion shouln't just go to American countries, friends of
Cheney or not. Where possible, the work should be done by the Iraqis
themselves. That means, let's spend the money over there and not over
here. At the same time, I'm surprised that the Democrats aren't calling
for a balance, say a few billion here and there for American schools,
health care, environment, libraries, whatever.
5:32:27 PM Permalink
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A Dying Cub Fan's Last Request
Well, it's not necessarily over for them yet, but this is as good a time as any to quote the late lamented Steve Goodman:
By the shore's of old Lake Michigan
Where the "hawk wind" blows so cold
An old Cub fan lay dying
In his midnight hour that tolled
Round his bed, his friends had all gathered
They knew his time was short
And on his head they put this bright blue cap
From his all-time favorite sport
He told them, "its late and its getting dark in here"
And I know its time to go
But before I leave the line-up
Boys, there's just one thing I'd like to know
Do they still play the blues in Chicago
When baseball season rolls around
When the snow melts away,
Do the Cubbies still play
In their ivy covered burial ground
When I was a boy they were my pride and joy
But now they only bring fatigue
To the home of the brave
The land of the free
And the doormat of the National League The rest of the song's at the link.
9:54:17 AM Permalink
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P.G. Wodehouse's Birthday
Courtesy of Today in Literature, comes word that today's P.G. Wodehouse's birthday. The site includes a fantastic little excerpt from The Luck of the Bodkins, which quite nicely captures the flavor of the man:
Into the face of the young man who sat on the terrace of the Hotel
Magnifique at Cannes there had crept a look of furtive shame, the
shifty, hangdog look which announces that an Englishman is about to
talk French. One of the things which Gertrude Butterwick had impressed
upon Monty Bodkin when he left for his holiday on the Riviera was that
he must be sure to practise his French, and Gertrude's word was law. So
now, though he knew that it was going to make his nose tickle, he said:
"Er, garsong."
"M'sieur?"
"Er, garsong, esker-vous avez un spot de l'encre et une pièce de
papier – note-papier, vous savez, – et une enveloppe et une plume?"
The strain was too great.
"I want to write a letter," said Monty. And having, like all
lovers, rather a tendency to share his romance with the world, he would
probably have added "To the sweetest girl on earth" had not the waiter
already bounded off like a retriever, to return a few moments later
with the fixings.
"V'la, m,sieur! Zere you are, sir," said the waiter. He was
engaged to a girl in Paris who had told him that when on the Riviera he
must be sure to practise his English. "Eenk -- pin -- pipper --
enveloppe -- and a liddle bit of bloddin-pipper."
"Oh, merci," said Monty. "Thanks. Right ho."
"Right ho, m'sieur," said the waiter....
9:33:58 AM Permalink
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© Copyright 2004 Steve Michel.
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