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HARARE, Zimbabwe (AP) – President Robert Mugabe said Friday that his supporters are ready to fight if the opposition wins an upcoming presidential runoff election, hardening the rhetoric of a campaign that already has seen widespread violence against government opponents.
“I’m even prepared to join the fight,” the 84-year-old Mugabe told a conference of his party’s youth wing.
Orin Kerr/The Volokh Conspiracy
via
A few comments from Orin Kerr’s Blog:
Haven’t read the decision, don’t care about the politics, but is the poster prohibited political activity?
Uh-oh, it’s a poster featuring a smooth-talking, unreconstructed leftist cult leader with ambitions of power! And Che Guevara!
He has a picture of a Marxist on his wall!
And one of Che Che Guevara!
But Che supported the death penalty. Didn’t he actively oversee hundreds of executions while running La Cabana Fortress prison?
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Come on people…We must get that bolded number UP 🙂
BAGHDAD — Radical Shiite cleric Muqtada al-Sadr revealed Friday that he plans to create a powerful new fighting force to battle what he calls “the occupiers” in Iraq.
Al-Sadr’s announcement came in the form of a statement read after Friday prayers in the holy Shiite city of Kufa. The statement called on his nearly 60,00-strong Mahdi Army militia to exercise restraint.
“The resistance will be carried out exclusively by a special group which I will announce later,” Sadr’s statement read, adding that “weapons will be in the hands of this group exclusively and will only be directed at the occupier,” using standard terms for the American forces in Iraq.
This fat greasy pig, should have been dead for 6 fucking years already.
Hate to be this way…BUT, one down several more to go. Toss stones at me if you choose, that’s my opinion.
Well, took it again today AND this time I did see a Black Bear…not a rock formation. ‘Twas a yearling, not that big and just filling into ‘Bearhood’…just crossing the road, about 30-40 feet in front of the Explorer.
As I got closer (driving slowly, cause ya can’t drive quickly on that back road anyway) I fumble farted around for my phone camera…rolled the window down. The Bear stood up and looked at me, as if to say…’Wait ’til I get larger sport…Then I won’t just stand here…OH and by the way, would you move that damn car…it bugs me’.
By the time I had the camera ready he had sauntered off into the trees…Guess what is on my camera as a shot? TREES!
What is Retrosexuality???
A Retrosexual, no matter what the women insists, PAYS FOR THE GODDAMN DATE.
A Retrosexual opens doors for a lady. Even for the ones that fit that term only because they are female.
A Retrosexual DEALS with shit. Be it a flat tire, break-in into your home, or a natural disaster, you FUCKING DEAL WITH IT.
A Retrosexual not only eats red meat, he often kills it himself.
A Retrosexual doesn’t worry about living to be 90. It’s not how long you live, but how well. If you’re 90 years old and still smoking cigars and drinking, I salute you.
A Retrosexual does not use more hair or skin products than a woman. Women have several supermarket aisles of stuff. Retrosexuals need an endcap (possibly 2 endcaps if you include shaving goods.)
A Retrosexual does not dress in clothes from Hot Topic when he’s 30 years old
A Retrosexual should know how to properly kill stuff (or people) if need be. This falls under the “dealing with shit” portion of The Code.
A Retrosexual watches no TV show with “Queer” in the title.
A Retrosexual does not let neighbors fuck up rooms in his house on national TV.
A Retrosexual should not give up excessive amounts of manliness for poontang. Some is inevitable, but major re-invention of yourself will only lead to you becoming a froo-froo little puss, and in the long run, she ain’t worth it.
A Retrosexual is allowed to seek professional help for major mental stress such as drug/alcohol addiction, death of your entire family in a freak woodchipper accident, favorite sports team being moved to a different city etc. You are NOT allowed to see a shrink because Daddy didn’t pay you enough attention. Daddy was busy DEALING WITH SHIT. When you fucked up, he DEALT with you. Cowboy up, pussy.
A Retrosexual will have at least one outfit in his wardrobe designed to conceal himself from prey.
A Retrosexual knows how to tie a fucking Windsor knot when wearing a tie.
A Retrosexual does not strip naked, get into a sweat lodge, and bang on drums to bond with other guys. That shit is gay. However dressing in kilts, banging on drums around a campfire, and drinking heavily is just fine.
A Retrosexual should have at least one good wound he can brag about getting.
A Retrosexual knows how to use a basic set of tools. If you can’t hammer a damn nail, or drill a straight hole, practice in secret until you can or be rightfully ridiculed for the wuss you be.
A Retrosexual’s asshole is an exit ramp on the road of life. Ladies, contrary to what Cosmo says, spontaneously sticking a finger back there is a good way to be launched off the bed (or if Hooters hot wings have been recently consumed, lose a finger). Make you a deal, we won’t mess with yours unless you want us to, and you won’t mess with ours period.
A Retrosexual will buy feminine hygiene products if he has to, but only under protest. This falls under unpleasant things you have to fucking DEAL with. Get some Hagen-Daas while your at it.
A Retrosexual gives a lady his seat on the bus/subway/etc.
A Retrosexual does not order an apple martini at the bar. A Martini has fucking gin and vermouth in it dammit. And maybe an olive. In fact, why not just get a beer and a shot of scotch??
A Retrosexual doesn’t get squeamish about having to DEAL with a pest animal, even if he has to kill it.
A Retrosexual does NOT use unisex perfume. The brand of after shave his dad used is good enough for him.
Retrosexuals build and fix stuff. If you can’t change a light switch, install a ceiling fan, fix a broken toilet or build a tree house, learn how.
A Retrosexual teaches his children how to deal with bullies in a way that doesn’t involve “examining the other child’s motivation for aggressiveness”.
A Retrosexual does not wear designer clothing (unless it is a really nice suit to impress a potential mate).
A Retrosexual knows what sex is and doesn’t need a Democrat to define it for him.
A Retrosexual meets the young men his daughter she dates at the door and lets them know that Dad is the barrier method that will prevent the young man from attempting to get into his daughter’s pants.
A Retrosexual man owns an adequate variety of tools to accomplish whatever his next task might be. He has command over all he owns and can readily describe his next likely tool purchase. A rolling toolbox of at least his own height is a manly minimum.
A Retrosexual man owns at least 10 saws, of which a minimum of three of them are capable of immediate and permanent bodily harm. He is comfortable with chainsaws and can readily disassemble, clean, tune and reassemble them in an efficient manner.
A Retrosexual man owns at least 6 hammers and can clearly define the weight and purposes of each. He understands clearly the phrase “use the right tool for the job”.
A Retrosexual man is not to be reckoned with lightly. He possesses the ability to deal with it and if you happen to be “it” then you should watch your tone or be dealt with accordingly.
A Retrosexual man does not take advantage of lesser individuals simply because he can, but should he witness another attempting the same he’ll have little mercy on said bully.
A Retrosexual man has complete disgust for the entirety of our liberal media who’s weak minded ploy to “protect” all of the world’s minorities leaves them no one they are allowed to castigate as a group except the white males of the world. Screw the media and all of the fay actors getting rich portraying weak, shallow, dimwitted and effeminate roles that ruin our children’s standards of what real Americans should be.
A Retrosexual man doesn’t care if you agree with him or not. His opinion his not changed to suit the ears of the local audience.
A Retrosexual man does not care to be bothered with the annoying nuances of being politically correct. Fuck them if they don’t like what I’m saying.
A Retrosexual man is not ashamed of his body nor of the sounds and smells the might emanate from it. He doesn’t mind cleaning up or dressing nice as the occasion may warrant but also understands the therapeutic value in a well rendered belch. In public or not.
A Retrosexual man not only knows about guns and ammunition but also is a skilled marksman. Do not take him lightly, dying slowly is a lot more painful and he knows it.
A Retrosexual man understands the vapid emasculating power of the city and spends significant effort to remove himself to the fresh air of the hills as frequently as possible.
A Retrosexual man can master any vehicle that he happens across, be it on land, snow, water or air, 2 wheels, 3 wheels, 4 wheels, 18 wheels, or no wheels.
A Retrosexual man does not add fancy chrome where it is not needed for essential metal protection. His vehicles are purpose driven and rarely show signs of “dressing up”. If he drives a 4WD truck or jeep then it is dirty on a routine basis. It also shows scars from being used for its built purpose. And he does not care about these scars except as a show of pride that the vehicle has earned its stripes.
A Retrosexual man does not mind being alone. The company of others is pleasant but not required. He has no use for meaningless banter for the simple sake of conversation. Take your idle prattle elsewhere.
A Retrosexual man can start a fire with or without any assistance from matches, lighters or fuel. And he can do so with a minimum of effort using a wide variety of locally available resources.
A Retrosexual man can tie knots. Steadfast knots. Different ones as required to suit his purpose. He also knows about the different properties of ropes and which are best suited for different applications.
A Retrosexual man can use a knife. Any knife. And his knives are always sharp. His preferred pocket knife is the Swiss army knife but not the fancy ass version that contains 47 blades, a magnifying glass and two shades of lip gloss. One with a main blade, a saw blade, a can opener, a beer opener and a corkscrew will suffice. He can routinely use his knife to create things or to destroy things, all with equal aplomb.
A Retrosexual man can open his beer with a wide variety of tools, including his belt, and do so in less than 10 seconds.
A Retrosexual man understands sports. Not all sports but all essential sports. Who gives a shit about jai alai or women’s badminton or even the esoteric aspects of cricket and don’t get me started on that crap called rhythmic gymnastics. He can explain the strategies of the 2 minute drill, why pitch count should affect pitch location or why fuel stop timing can affect winning. He is at least marginally capable of playing virtually any sport or game that involves the use of a ball.
A Retrosexual man doesn’t mind getting dirty. A little dirt never hurt anyone. Only girls and whiny metrosexuals are paranoid about dirt. Antibacterial soap is highly overrated and he is not inclined to use it without a compelling reason. Men lived for thousands of years without washing their hands every fifteen minutes.
A Retrosexual man is personally responsible for all aspects of his life and doesn’t seek to blame others for the wrongs and injustices in his life. He deals with them.
A Retrosexual man is in touch with his feelings and he doesn’t feel obliged to share them with some nosy female who wants him as her emotional companion. That’s what her girlfriends are for. Leave him alone and he’ll tell you when it’s OK to interrupt.
A Retrosexual knows that owning a gun is not a sign that your are riddled with fear, or are trying to makeup for a small penis. Massage and cunnilingus skills are the way to make up for a small penis, guns are fucking TOOLS and are often essential to DEAL with shit. Plus it’s just damnned fun to shoot.
(Maybe all this means you are actually just a man, without some “-sexual” title?)
Found here
If there’s more substance to the comments from this marine biologist working for Australia’s CSIRO, they’re not in the report. Basically, she’s making utterly (and admittedly, by her own self) unsubstantiated claims of species extinction secondary to climate change and in the same breath appealing to the government for more funding. Didn’t I read somewhere about a few climate denialists accusing scientists of hopping on the climate change bandwagon for monetary gain? Well, bless my chestnuts and roast my soul, they might have been onto something.
http://www.news.com.au/story/0,23599,23857278-5011761,00.html
Love the way warmeners seize on every blip on the meteorological radar as evidence of climate change. A hurricane in Florida, or melting of Arctic sea ice one year (due, we know, to warm oceanic currents, as there simply hasn’t been enough warming to explaining it any other way) and off they go: “See, it’s happening, it’s happening!” But for all the really juicy stuff: “It’ll happen, it’ll happen!”
In Wednesday’s New York Times, Maureen Dowd warns conspiracy-seeking lefties that Obama’s candidacy is sure to incite the GOP to attack his wife, Michelle Obama. As if Obama himself doesn’t provide us with a good enough target. No, Dowd says, the true focus will be on Michele Obama as a “female version of Jeremiah Wright, an angry black woman.”
Well, as we say here in Kansas — where we’re all typical white people, I hear — “if the shoe fits, wear it.”
Oh, I’m not saying that Michelle Obama’s a racist. On the contrary, her husband’s campaign seems to value white people. Why, just two months ago when Mrs. Obama spoke at a rally on the campus of Carnegie Mellon University in Pennsylvania her staff rearranged the crowd’s seating so a white person could have an Asian woman’s spot. “Get me more white people,” one of her event coordinators said. “We need more white people.”
With Michelle Obama, you see, it’s not all about what race a person is. It’s about what race they are not. As Mrs. Obama has made clear, it’s not really about other people’s whiteness. It’s about how white people don’t share what she calls her “blackness,” a distinction she made it her mission to examine.
Her senior thesis at Princeton University analyzed that very subject as she sought to examine “Princeton-Educated Blacks and the Black Community”. (Mrs. Obama’s thesis, written under her maiden name of Michelle LaVaughn Robinson, has been temporarily withdrawn from the stacks at Princeton’s library until the day after the presidential election. A copy is available here.)
The purpose of her thesis was to examine how her fellow black students perceived their own “blackness” after attending “predominantly White universities like Princeton [that] are socially and academically designed to cater to the needs of the White students comprising the bulk of their enrollments.” Her hypothesis? That the more time black students spend around other blacks, “the more positive and compassionate they will be in their attitudes toward lower class Black Americans”. Or, to rephrase her hypothesis: if highly-educated blacks look down on lower-income black Americans it’s the fault of whites and their white institutions like Princeton.
Yet, out of a sample of 400 black students surveyed, only a mere 22% bothered to respond to her questions. When the data demonstrated that the more separatist blacks became the more hopeless they felt, and the more integrated they became the less hopeless they felt, she dismissed the findings, calling it “very weak.”
Say now, couldn’t THIS (one of her event coordinators said. “We need more white people.”) be construed as “Whitey” speak? Just askin’.
Why is the Saudi-funded school covering up sex abuse allegations and using textbooks that incite students to violence?
The Islamic Saudi Academy in Fairfax County, Virginia, is funded by the Saudi government and operates as an arm of the Saudi Embassy. It has been in the news this week following a report issued by the United States Commission on International Religious Freedom (USCIRF), which found that textbooks used by the academy are filled with incitements to violence and racial and religious bigotry.
Missing in most of the national establishment media coverage of the story, however, is the raid on the school last month by state authorities after academy officials failed to report a five-year-old student’s claims of sex abuse by a parent and later attempted to eliminate any traces of the report.
According to a local news report [video] on June 3, the female student reported her claims to her teachers, and a report on the matter was drawn up by the teachers and the school’s principal and submitted to administrators. But when the allegations reached the desk of school director Abdullah Al-Shabnan, he didn’t believe the girl and failed to report the sex abuse claims to law enforcement within the 72 hours required by state law.
Apparently tipped off on a cover-up, law enforcement authorities raided the school on May 23 to seize computers and look for evidence after Al-Shabnan ordered the original report deleted from school computers.
Just three days before the raid, the Fairfax County Board of Supervisors voted unanimously to renew the academy’s lease of county property, ignoring multiple reports of the school’s promotion of violence and hatred.
This is far from the first time that the Islamic Saudi Academy has received unwelcome public scrutiny. Just a few days ago, the academy’s 1999 class valedictorian, Ahmed Omar Abu Ali, had his 2005 conviction upheld by the 4th Circuit Court of Appeals on charges that he joined Al-Qaeda and had plotted to assassinate President George W. Bush. Abu Ali was sentenced to 30 years in prison. As noted by Evan Kohlmann at Counterterrorism Blog, Abu Ali had joined an Al-Qaeda cell in Saudi Arabia while studying at the University of Medina, and one of his Al-Qaeda co-conspirators was killed in a shoot-out with Saudi authorities.
Last October the USCIRF sent a letter to Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice asking her to close the school if academy officials continued to refuse to turn over copies of their textbooks to ensure that passages advocating violence against Jews, Christians, and other non-Muslims were scrubbed. At the time, USCIRF Commissioner Nina Shea observed that since 9/11 the school had alternately denied that such passages existed, claimed it had already removed such (non-existent) passages, and stated that it was working on removing such (non-existent) passages.
ENCANTO, CA—Real estate agent Jake Trammel shakes his head as he points out unsold house after unsold house in this San Diego suburb, where homes once went for half a million dollars or more. He pulls up to a Victorian mansion whose windows and door create the look of a leering skull. As the sun breaks through a storm cloud overhead, the illusion disappears, and Trammel admits that he hasn’t had an offer on the haunted residence in 18 months.
“Two years ago, a four-bedroom with a triple homicide would ignite a bidding war among young couples desperate to get into what they naively thought would be their dream home,” Trammel says. “We were handing out 30-year fixed rate [mortgages] with nothing down to anyone who was willing to ignore the spine-tingling whispers emanating from the basement. But since the market crashed, people don’t even want to look inside.”
“As soon as a prospective buyer hears a voice saying, ‘Get out,’ they want to get out,” he adds. “It’s just a terrifying situation for us.”
True Story:
In the above instance…I must agree. Being a Broker, (at the time, just an Associate Broker, as Florida calls them) I had a friend that had just listed a home. Ray, was so damn proud of his new listing…I HAD to see it immediately.
So, off we went. Well upon arriving…I felt a strange feeling…as said above “creepy”. We entered the home after the owners let us in..everyone had smiles…The home looked lovely…DOWNSTAIRS!
As we ascended the stairwell to the top floor…I noticed holes in the wall, on one side of the stairwell. They were about hammer head size. I thought for a moment, as Ray had told me the owners were doing some “renovating” that this just may be part of it (remember, I still had a “creepy” feeling)…WELL, as we moved up the stairs…I swear there was an EYE peering out from each hole. (they were pretty evenly spaced, about three foot apart)
In fact there was…because I stopped for a moment and looked straight into the EYEBALL. The upstairs was a room…large and completely unfinished, it had been studded in…but nothing else. I turned to view it AND knew I had seen, either an apparition OR someone, something…moving stealthily about.
Turns out I was correct, after saying to Ray…Ummm, Ray…I’ve seen enough, Let us thank the owners and leave…LIKE NOW!. We we were walking to his car…I said…”Ray, just what in the fuck is going on with and in, that house”.
Ray looked sheepishly at me and said…”Well, ummmm, you see their son just got out of A Institution”. I said…”Ray, I take it the Institution was not a higher learning kind”. Ray said “No, it was the State of Florida’s fucking NUTHOUSE. Ummmm, excusa…I mean in today’s world…’Mentally Challenged’.
I mentioned to Ray…”Say old buddy, you know that Broker Bob, is going to make you tear up that listing agreement”…Ray said “NAHHHHH!” About a week later, one of the female sales associates was showing the house (as we had a keybox lock on it) to a couple, all three left the home…immediately, after starting UP the eyeball stairway.
She reported the incident to our Broker Bob, who decided to take a trip out, to see for himself. Upon return to the office…Broker Bob…screamed…”RAY…get your ass in my office!”
End of TRUE story…The home listed went poof, from the office files.
I can’t help liking elephants, and I was delighted to receive from India a silk tie with a pattern of these huge and benevolent beasts, raising their trunks in the traditional gesture which means ‘Good morning and good luck’. I once had a beautiful alabaster elephant, made in Benares in the early 20th century, coloured golden yellow and red. Originally in its howdah had reposed the stately squatting figure of Lord Curzon, when viceroy. But time and tide had removed his Lordship, and in due course a dusting fall broke the saluting trunk. Finally, a riotous Old Etonian, while admiring the piece and boasting to me how many OEs had been viceroys, dropped it on the fireplace tiles and it had to be binned. Curzon himself once lamented, ‘Everything really nice always gets broken by careless servants’, but in this case the vandal was a former Captain of Boats.
John Donne, in his ‘Progress of the Soul’, hails ‘Nature’s great masterpiece, the Elephant’, adding ‘The only harmless great thing’. Well, this may be generally true of the Indian elephant, docile, biddable, hard-working, faithful and affectionate — its intimate and loving relationship with its mahout (known as an oozie in Burma) is akin to marriage. But even an Indian elephant can be dangerous when in must, as we remember from that dark and touching essay by George Orwell, recounting the occasion when he was required to kill one of the great, patient beasts, already recovering from its fit, simply to ‘save face’ and satisfy the expectant villagers. This was when he was an officer in the Burmese police. Would that this wise and saintly man were ruling Burma today!
Exactly which side of politics was it complaining that we shouldn’t put women on the front line because they’re too delicate?
So isn’t this quite rich?
Wheeling West Virginia is a Neil Sedaka song I remember hearing regularly on Melbourne when I was a boy, so I was pretty surprised that a Google search a couple of years ago turned up nothing.
Just recently I found it on a Sony CD called The Lost 45’s, and discovered that it was a hit only here in Australia. Sedaka recorded it here in Sydney as a matter of fact – during the late 60’s and early 70’s his live performances were pretty much all over here.
Not a great clip, but a great song.
In February this year, Christian evangelists Arthur Cunningham and Joseph Abraham were doing what Christian evangelists do: handing out Bible extracts. They were stopped by a representative of the law, threatened with arrest if they carried on preaching in “a Muslim area,” and warned that they might get beaten up if they came back.
Where did this incident take place? Saudi Arabia, Iran, or Pakistan, where Christian preaching is forbidden and apostates persecuted? No, this “Muslim area” was in Alum Rock, Birmingham, England. That’s right — England, cradle of free speech; England, a country with an established, if enfeebled, Church, and where seventy-five percent of citizens (at the 2001 census) describe themselves as Christian. The man who stopped the evangelists, calling their preaching a “hate crime,” was Naeem Naguthney, a police community support officer (PCSO), and a Muslim. Granted, a PCSO is not a full police officer, and has only limited powers of law enforcement. But which law was he enforcing? It looks suspiciously like Sharia.
This is not the first time an English “Muslim area” has hit the news. In 2006, Muslim preacher Abu Izzadeen expressed outrage that then-Home Secretary John Reid was visiting “a Muslim area”: East London. Yet when the bishop of Rochester recently warned that Britain was developing Muslim no-go areas, he was denounced by Muslims as — what else? — Islamophobic. Many non-Muslims joined in the condemnation. Others argued that the no-go areas were ideological, rather than literal, but this argument rather misses the point: Islam is, and always has been, territorial.
Aren’t they beauties?
via
Detention Camp Remains, but Not Its Legal Rationale
Credit where credit is due..They do hint at the question of who or whom is to pay for terrorists, now Americans, trials.
Court says detainees have rights, bucking Bush
The shoe phone on TV’s “Get Smart” wasn’t just a sneaky spy gadget, it was a technological marvel: a wireless, portable telephone that could be used anywhere – though it did require a dime to make a call.
Today, almost everyone has a pocket-sized version that also takes photos, shoots video, sends e-mail and surfs the Internet. About the only thing it doesn’t do is protect your feet.
“Get Smart” comes to the big screen next week, along with a spate of new spy gadgets to help Maxwell Smart, Agent 99 and the other spies at CONTROL. The gadgets are just as goofy as they were in the original TV series, but because technology has caught up with the writers’ imaginations, there’s a big difference: many of the movie’s doo-dads actually exist.
“Our favorite thing is to take something that does sort of exist and just exaggerate it a little bit,” said Matt Ember, who co-wrote the script.
The film shows a tiny iPod alongside spy-worthy stuff such as a two-way tooth radio and a digital “spy fly” – all of which are available now.
This would have to rate amongst one of the stupidest, most idiotic and irresponsible hoaxes I’ve ever heard of.
All concerned should be sacked. Immediately.
Here’s a great top ten list of the worst male-bashing ads on American television right now. Oh, it evidently helps if you are a white man.
This was number one, but you ought to watch them all:
Sorry, but I’m not Al Bundy and I’m not Homer Simpson. I have a 135 IQ and I believe in God. I run 30 miles per week and work out on my Bowflex. I’m not a catch and release fisherman, I’m a catch and eat fisherman. I like to kill deer and quail and doves, cook them, and eat them.
I love women who love being women, because I’m a man who loves being a man.
I don’t think women today can handle a real man – a knight in shining armor – that isn’t what they want. They want the most financially successful metrosexual that they think they can control. Well, sorry, but I’m a retrosexual, and my heroes are John Wayne, Robert Mitchum, and Clint Eastwood: You can’t control me, and I have no desire to control you. A woman who is confident as a woman is challenge enough, thank you very fucking much. A man who is confident as a man is problem enough for the best woman as well; evidently more problem than women today are interested in dealing with.
Pity. You know why? If a coupe doesn’t keep each other guessing and off balance, the relationship is boring. No thanks. I’ve had enough boring relationships. Where the fuck are the real women these days? A real man would like to know.
The Tizona Group 
