perfidy

Well, now you can check at home! Yes, that's right - an egghead at the Oxford University has developed a home alternate universe test. All you need is a red laser pointer, a dark room, a piece of paper and a pin. Well, and this link.

I am so, like, psyched! The director of one of the best movies of all time, the Iron Giant, is teaming up with the best animation studio since the glory days of Disney - Pixar - to make a new movie, The Incredibles.

Sweet!
 

Via TNR, this astonishing post from the sixth anti-terrorism chief under Bush, John Craig:

George W. Bush was right to order the invasion of Iraq, a former White House adviser from Elizabethtown said during a rare public speaking appearance Tuesday.

"I believe the decision to use military force in Iraq was the right decision at the time," John B. Craig, former senior director for combating terrorism, said during a panel discussion at Elizabethtown College, where he serves as scholar in residence.

Craig argued that war discussions took place in public meetings and that the decision to invade Iraq was ultimately based on polling data.

"In our system, the majority of the public is the applause meter, the gauge, for setting policy," he said. "The idea that the administration needed a justification for invading Iraq wasn't raised until after the decision had been made. If the public was against this, the public should have stood up and asked some really tough questions."

Huh. Really. Any such questioning was swept aside when WMD came into the picture. By intimating that it "knew" there were WMD in Iraq, the administration was able to prevent the debate on nation building from ever happening. Those persons advancing the "invade Iraq" policy knew they'd lose the public debate, if it came to that, on the simple risk/reward analysis. They needed a wildcard, and they didn't have one.

So they made one up.

Yahoo News brings us a heartwarming story of geek love among the octopi.

It seems that at the Alaska Sea Life Center in Anchorage, there lives a lonely octopus named J-1. Poor J-1 is five years old, which in octopus years is a lot. Our unfortunate hero has lived a solitary life in a tank, entertaining and educating humans, and has never felt the tender touch of the eight arms of a lover.

Geeks know geeks no matter the species, and compassion has prevailed. Not ones to let a kindred spirit to live out a life undeflowered, the human staff of the Seal Life Center knew they had to act.

Love almost passed J-1 by. At 5 years of age and 52 pounds, he's reaching the end of the line for his species, the largest octopus in the world. J-1 is in a period of decline that occurs before octopus die. His skin is eroding. His suckers have divots.

"He's not as strong as he used to be," said aquarist Deanna Trobaug.

That's so sad! Divots! What is to be done?

Why, play otco-yenta, of course! Enter Aurora, a young female with an apparent taste for older men.

To get the two together, aquarium staff put Aurora in a plastic bag and then gently poured her into J-1's 3,600-gallon exhibit tank. She sank to the bottom of the tank and then made the first move, going over to J-1, who was hanging on a rock wall.

Hey, big boy.

With so little time left, J-1 wasn't going to let the sweet Aurora slip through his eight octopus arms. While she had to make the first move, he caught on quickly, especially for an octopus who was collected on a beach near Seldovia in 1999 when he was about the size of a quarter and has lived the bachelor life since.

Ladies and gentlemen, I warn you. Now the story gets wierd. Tentacle-porn wierd.

She reached out an arm and touched him. Only then did he wake up to the fact he had company. Contact made, she went back to her corner of the tank. J-1, dispelling water from his siphon to get quickly across the tank, was in hot pursuit.

"They both were gripping the back wall of the tank. He just about covered her completely," Hocking said.

A little Marvin Gaye. A little mood lighting. A little Colt .45. Like Billy Dee said, it works like a charm.

The two remained intertwined for about eight hours. It's possible that during that time when J-1 was exploring Aurora's mantle with his many suckered arms that he passed his sperm packet to her, Hocking said.

What the aquarium staff does know is that when they separated, J-1 flashed some colors, turning almost white and then dark red.

"It looks like instinct took over during that encounter and they did what they were supposed to do," Hocking said.

Does anyone else get the uncomfortable feeling that "Mary Pemberton, Associated Press Writer" got a leetle too into this story? And what's with the glass tank? I mean, the first time my geek friends set me up with a lady they at least... erm... never mind. Back to our story!

You may well be asking, "but Johno, how can we be sure that J-1 knocked the eight boots?" Simple!!

Spermatophores were seen hanging from J-1's siphon.

Siphon. I'm totally usin' that one.

But despite the presence of unsavory journalists and despite any bizarre tentacle-porn/voyeuristic fetish overtones this heartwarming piece may evoke, what we have in the end is a true mizvah, a good deed done on behalf of a lonely octopus.

Hocking said it seemed only right to give J-1 a chance to do what octopuses normally do before he dies.

In his younger days, J-1 was an easygoing sort who did not try to escape his tank a lot, Hocking said. When aquarium staff would come by to clean, the octopus would reach out and grab hold of someone's arm or a window cleaning tool.

"The goal for this was to let him lead a full life," Hocking said.

Mission Accomplished.

Hard-rocking Zionist Gene Simmons went on a tear on Austalian radio, managing to vilify the entire religion of Islam. Seemingly his rant started by trashing terroroists; before long his massive reptilian tongue had knocked his brain into submission and before anyone knew it, he was explaining that Islam itself was to blame.

Now, you can read all the primary and secondary sources on Islam you wish, and there is no way that any sane person would come away from such study convinced that an entire religion spanning so many cultures, languages, and legal structures is out to get you. Just no. Don't argue about it. That doesn't mean that certain goofy fuckers within those structures aren't out to get you, but you can't blame something as broad, abstract, ancient, and interpretive as religion solely for them.

Yasser Soliman, chairman of the Islamic Council of Victoria, said the remarks were "very unfortunate. He's very famous obviously and popular and, as a result, influential."

Famous? Yes. Popular? OK, by most any measure yes. Influential? With every guy in America who owns a guitar knowing at least most of one KISS song, influential is a good choice of words. Influential on American foreign policy? Fear not.

Let me add that the toughest part of this entry was deciding on a title. I opted for the "Thunder Down Under" angle because everything that happens in Australia is marketed here as thunder down under, so the cheese factor appealed to me. Other candidates:

"Muslims Not Pulling Trigger to Gene's Love Gun"
"Caling Doctor Hate"
"Rocket Ride to Mecca"
"Gene's Tongue Latest Weapon in WoT"

I tried some others with puking blood, 7" leather heels and demonic face paint but nothing was really clicking.

Yeeeha!

Burt Rutan's Spaceshipone makes its third powered test flight, reaching an altitude of 212,000 feet. Kids, that's 41 miles, or over 80% of the way to space. NASA gives astronaut wings to anyone who makes it to fifty miles up.

Well, nearly. The seventeen year plague of cicadas is almost upon us. Well, 'us' if you live in the eastern United States, south of NY, north of Georgia and east of Illinois. And west of the Ocean, naturally.

I have (due to suspiciously convenient absences) never experienced the wonder of a full scale cicada onslaught. To be honest, the prospect of this guy:

and a trillion of his closest friends arriving uninvited for dinner and a little sex leaves me cold. Although I would like to be the first to welcome our new Cicada overlords.

The thought of over a ton of bugs per acre puts me too much in mind of bad fifties movies. I have heard that the critters will generate over a hundred decibels with their interminable mating calls - that's verging on rock concert loud. My dog, though very cute, is not exactly a canine Einstein. Or for that matter even a canine Yahoo Serious. Exactly how sick he's going to get eating bugs is a matter of some concern.

Look below the fold for more info on the critters.

This Virginia Tech page, prepared by actual entomologists, has lots of gossip about the habits of Cicadas.

This University of Michigan site cuts right to the chase:

What is a periodical cicada? Cicadas are flying, plant-sucking insects

This map (obtained here, from Cicada Man) shows which areas brood X plans to conquer:

And of course, no experience is complete without a commemorative mug:

Why not sit down to a nice cupajoe, in your personalized cicada mug (fifteen states and DC!) while you go insane from the noise?

The perfidious Technorati Profile suggests that this site has not been updated since before the invention of webpages, nay, even the invention of the internet.

Source last updated 12551 days 17 hours 44 minutes ago. Query took 1.63 seconds

That's almost 34 and a half years, kids - or looked at another way, slightly longer than I've been alive. Next to that screw up, I suppose it's not really material that they don't have most of our links, either.

[wik] 2:00pm: I hit refresh, and now it's ten links and fifty five days. Wait! Now it's back to 34 years!

[alsø wik] 4:15pm: looks like all the links are back, but still fifty five days since last update.

I'm sorry. I've spent a lot of time over the last few days feeling terrible about the prisoner photos coming out of Iraq, but now I have something to help, a veritable balm to soothe my anguish. I apologize for assuming the worst.

As Pfc. Lynndie England, she of the cigarette, leashes, and goofy mugging for the camera, explains, she and her peers were just following orders. End of debate. As a soldier, she is not allowed to question what orders to follow, much less exercise discretion when those orders fall outside the bounds of decency, wartime or otherwise. Nope, no reason at all to go up the chain of command to verify orders. She those others like here are not to blame. They were just following orders. Did I mention she said she was under orders?

Good enough for the Nazis, good enough for her. I feel so much better now.

Idiot.

[wik] It makes me wonder exactly how those orders would be phrased. "PFC England, I order you to behave like a douchebag," something like that? Or was it something more? "PFC England, I order you to stand there by the naked guys... a little to the right... Ok... now smoke that cigarette... great. Now... point at their weiners like there's something funny to see.. perfect.... No no, look at the camera, that's an order... hold it... hold it.... OK, got it on film. Stand down."

Idiot.

Bill Hicks had a great bit on reading:

I was in Nashville, Tennessee last year, and after the show I went to a Waffle House, I'm not proud of it, I was hungry. And I'm alone, I'm eating and I'm reading a book, right? Waitress walks over to me, "Tch tch tch tch. Hey, what you readin' for?"
Is that like the weirdest fucking question you've ever heard? Not "what am I reading", but "what am I reading for?"

Well, godammit, you stumped me. Why do I read?

Well... hmmm... I guess I read for a lot of reasons, and the main one is so I don't end up a fucking waffle waitress, okay?

Recently, the Ministry has been kicking around a new canon of works that we and our commenters feel should be immortalized. It's a highly idiosyncratic list, ranging from Bukowski to Heidegger, which of course a cafeteria-stylee discussion of the very sort I started blogging to participate in.

In the interest of saving the world from a job at Waffle House, John Hudock of Common Sense and Wonder has called us on our navel-gazing and countered with a more useful meme:

[A] much more interesting question is not what barely remembered books you may have read 30 years ago but what are you reading now. So I am starting my own book meme asking what were the last dozen fiction and non-fiction books you read.

Fair enough, and a great idea. Leaving aside the fact that 30 years ago today I was feeding through an umbilicus, I'll play. Go check out John's list, which is loaded with books I've never even heard of, and I will update this post with my own list after I wrack my brain to come up with the titles of 24 recent reads.

Leave your own list in the posts, and feel free to denigrate others for their taste. That's half the fun!!!

[wik] As promised, my crappy lists.

Fiction

His Dark Materials (3 books), Philip Pullman
Ilium, Dan Simmons
The Confusion, Neal Stephenson
Journey To The West (4 books), Wu Cheng�en
Da Vinci Code, Dan Brown
Master and Commander, Patrick O�Brian
Post Captain, Patrick O�Brian

Nonfiction

Gulag, Anne Applebaum
Krakatoa : The Day the World Exploded: August 27, 1883, Simon Winchester
Alexander Hamilton, Richard Brookheiser
The Bread Bible, Rose Beranbaum Levy
New Ideas from Dead Economists, Todd Buchholz
A History of Everything, Bill Bryson
The Language Police, Diane Ravitch
Benjamin Franklin, Edmund Morgan
The Best Music Writing 2002, Jonathan Lethem, ed.
America Day by Day, Simone de Beauvoir
Democracy in America, Alexis de Tocqueville
In Denial: Historians, Communism, & Espionage, John Earl Haynes, Harvey Klehr (on deck)