wcbstv.com - N.Y. Senator Pushes For Cameras On Cop Handguns

The device could create a critical visual and audio record of police shootings for use in court, said state Sen. Eric Adams, a Brooklyn Democrat and former police officer. He is drumming up support for testing the cameras with the state police SWAT squad.

This Adams douchebag is in the pocket of whoever’s making this piece of crap. Probably his brother or his daddy, given New York. Somebody ask him why he didn’t carry one on his gun when he was a cop, if it was such a great idea. The technology existed, yet he chose not to use it? Why would that be? The answer is, “Because I couldn’t make a lot of money off it.” If he says anything different, he’s a lying sack of shit.

Looks like John McCain has the same problem as old Barry. Wants some dude named Doug Goodyear to run the convention in MSP this year. Except, Goodyear is a fathead consultant who took 1/3 of a million dollars to represent Burma’s military junta six years ago.

Potentially more problematic: the firm was paid $348,000 in 2002 to represent Burma’s military junta, which had been strongly condemned by the State Department for its human-rights record and remains in power today. Justice Department lobbying records show DCI pushed to “begin a dialogue of political reconciliation” with the regime. It also led a PR campaign to burnish the junta’s image, drafting releases praising Burma’s efforts to curb the drug trade and denouncing “falsehoods” by the Bush administration that the regime engaged in rape and other abuses. “It was our only foreign representation, it was for a short tenure, and it was six years ago,” Goodyear told NEWSWEEK, adding the junta’s record in the current cyclone crisis is “reprehensible.”

I love that “burnish the junta’s image.” That means mountains of bullshit designed to extract more money from the Burmese generals. As a capitalist, I can’t blame him, because there are only about a gajillion more PR firms who’d blow the junta in Times Square for 1/3 of $1,000,000. Still looks ugly, because it is ugly.

Lobby, lobby, lobby, lawyer, lawyer, lawyer, PR, PR, PR. Thomas Jefferson would be so proud.

Got two of my first four products in alpha, on my garage work bench.

Got at least three websites to knock out.

But first, I’ve got the series I shall not name on the toob, and my ass on the couch. Darlington is going on for the roundy-rounds, as well. Would be nice to put this laptop down and enjoy them both, but when you wake up thinking about margins, bulkhead adapters, CSS wireframes, and accounts payable, it’s not easy. Go to school, kids, get a good profession…don’t be like me.

UPDATE: Man, it looks like the hated mumble-mumbles had 5 days of Bible study, plenty of sleep in fresh air, and lots of whole milk before this series started.

So I fucked up the Mars thing (boy, is my face red! much like our planetary little brother, Mars) — chant some U!S!A about this, BG:

One of Barack Obama’s Middle East policy advisers disclosed yesterday that he had held meetings with the militant Palestinian group Hamas – prompting the likely Democratic nominee to sever all links with him.

Robert Malley told The Times that he had been in regular contact with Hamas, which controls Gaza and is listed by the US State Department as a terrorist organisation. Such talks, he stressed, were related to his work for a conflict resolution think-tank and had no connection with his position on Mr Obama’s Middle East advisory council.

Regular. Contact. With. A. Terrorist. Organization.

Obama used the “I’m Rubber and You’re Glue” defense.

He went on to suggest that Mr McCain’s attack showed that he was “losing his bearings”.

I’m willing to bet that no other presidential candidate has anyone anywhere near his staff of advisors in regular contact with death-dealing Palis. I’ll put it at 5-3, mainly because Nader and Paul are still wandering around, and they’re probably both thick with over-educated dipsticks looking for a staff job at a conflict resolution think tank.

Those last four words, what they’ve always meant since I’ve been alive, are US Armed Forces, but I’m not allowed to say that since I never served. One more demerit for me.

Via Ace.

Some fathead lawyer talking 10 year-old smack.

Over the Fourth of July weekend of 1999, I had the good fortune to accompany my then fiancée (and now happily my wife) to the McCain vacation home in Sedona where she was interviewing them for a Home and Garden Television show. The interview itself was entirely apolitical, focusing on fabrics and furnishing in their lovely Oak Creek abode, topics about which I do recall the senator was less than comfortable discussing.

Or you can use this as a perfectly good example of the the tinterubes suck.

One day, I will have a fiancee who is a producer for Unique Whips and I can sidle up to Chelsea flipping burgers at the grill and find out how she really feels about Obama. Just you watch, it’ll happen. So long as The Man doesn’t try to stop me, of course.

Prevailing scientific consensus holds that the existing Moon was formed when a Mars-sized planet collided with the Earth 4.5 billion years ago, when the solar system was very young.

Really? I always thought Mars was larger than Earth…I learned that many moons ago. If this scientific consensus is true, how did Earth survive? A wallet that says Bad Motherfucker? Are we really two deeply-fused planetary bodies? If so, it would sure explain a lot of the weird shit I have to deal with, like Al Gore, and people who can’t listen to their voice mail before they return a call. “Whadja want?” Well, let me explain in detail again, since I’ve got naught else to do.

That right there is a big ‘don’t-give-a-shit’ gene activator. Alert the biologists.

Mr. Beck:

Hofmeister says that we’re twelve to fifteen years away from seeing significant domestic production increases at the pump. It should not be difficult to understand that the greatest part of that lag is located in Washington, where prissy little scribblers backed with main force presume to stand in the way of men of action who would get out there and produce in exchange for our production (”division-of-labor economy”, kids) denominated in money. There is no telling how much of the cost of end products — at least half a generation away now — will have been devoted to “negotiations” and “partnerships” with these slugs: corporate legal departments living cheek by jowl with them for whole careers, accounting departments forced to count their bloated and rotten beans, not a single boot set anywhere without first referring to every sort of creep with a “mandate” and “authority” to make sure that some legislative committee hearing won’t sling his ass on an election-year whim. All of that Rube Goldberg effort has to come from somewhere, but at least it’s not a “windfall profits tax”. You’re going to pay for it, though. That’s the price of not exterminating parasites.

I really don’t want to hear any more about the high cost of gasoline, but I will, because I turn on the radio now and then to hear some tiny snippets of Texana in between Idiocracy outtakes.

And where are all those whining morons who were bitching that America wasn’t paying it’s fair share at the gas pump for the last three decades? I don’t know whether we were or not, but the whiny bastards were thick underfoot for many, many years. Don’t hear much from them anymore.

That sucked. It was like Class A vs. MLB. SUCKED. S-U-C-K-E-D. Sucked like there were 12 vs. 6.

3 accused of using corpse head to smoke pot

That lines up pretty good with all the pot-heads I know.

The Kingwood teenager’s story of decapitating a corpse and using the head to smoke marijuana was so outlandish that at first Houston Police Department senior officer Jim Adkins did not believe it.

Yet, Kevin Wade Jones Jr., 17, appeared almost indifferent as he relayed the bizarre description of his and two friends’ activities at a Humble area graveyard, Adkins said.

“I just doubted it because it’s very morbid, and I couldn’t see anybody doing something like this,” Adkins said Thursday.

Not until police went to the home of another Kingwood teen, 17-year-old Matthew Richard Gonzalez, did the officer believe the tale.

“He regurgitated in his plate of food when I asked him about it,” Adkins said. “So I knew there was some truth to the story.”

That’s my Texas, leading the charge to the gutter. Can I just die now?

Bizarro World — Gene Bromberg.com

Questions about how they’re going to combat collusion and what happens if someone dies (or gets locked up, or can’t get back into the U.S.) were hardly reassuring.

Because that’s a legitimate question to ask. You’d never worry about the final 5 pairings of the Masters getting dead, getting barred from the USofA, or getting a long-term lease at the Crossbar Hotel, would you? I think it goes without saying that they wouldn’t be bartering foot wedges, either.

This is a result, of course, of teevee. Not that I’ll ever bitch about that — major cash there, sucking the suckers dry.

THE
BRAZOSPORT NEWS: Death in Houston: revisiting the sad life of Eagle Pennell, local film legend

My best answer to that is fear. Despite his swagger, his true Texan credentials, his apparent talent at what he set out to do, he was just too damn afraid — afraid of what life would or could be like without alcohol since alcoholics, at base, I think, are ‘fraidy cats.

Or maybe he just didn’t give a shit.

I worry that I’m turning into a boozehound, like my old man and his old man before him, and mostly, when I make the space to look at it, it’s really because I just don’t give a shit. I can remember the last time I was scared — after my first marriage, I was living on the second floor of an old warehouse in south Dallas, and I was doing some work stuff, concentrating hard, and then it sounded to me like an army was coming through the door leading up the stairs. All I had was an old 30-30 and half-box of shells, and I didn’t know with any precision where the shells were. That scared me, thinking I was gonna go down without putting up a fight outside of whatever I could bludgeon the crackhead militia with. I finally found the shells in a suitcase, loaded up, and threw down on the other guy who lived in that old warehouse, who was banging around downstairs moving in some different furniture. Needless to say, we got kinda drinky that night.

That damn 30-30, my grandfather’s Winchester, got ripped off, too, when some assholes broke into my third or fourth place down the line when I wasn’t home (it was fully loaded — I never made that mistake again.) They got the deer rifle my dad gave me as a young lad, as well, and a nice Browning duck gun.

I never made any movies, though, so no one will ever even write a nice article in a respected publication about me. I wish I had a point to this, but I don’t. C’est la guerre. Fight your battles the best you know how to, I guess, because no one else is gonna fight ‘em for you, and they ain’t got a say in it, anyway. They’ll just step over your cold, dead body on the way to their next fight, and that’s the way it should be.

Is Michelle Obama responsible for the Jeremiah Wright fiasco? - By Christopher Hitchens - Slate Magazine

(One can picture Obama looking pained and sensitive and saying, “Keep my wife out of it,” or words to that effect, as Clinton tried to do in 1992 when Jerry Brown and Ralph Nader quite correctly inquired about his spouse’s influence.)

Hitchens is pretty much my Mencken. There are a million typists on the interwebs trying to reach these levels, yet this man shines above all. I count myself among those trying typists, but there’s an innate knowledge that Hitchens was raised to do this, while I was raised to do something different, like dig holes for fenceposts and make weirdo techie shit.

As far as Mrs. Barry goes, I think she’s got his balls in a jar in the nightstand. If you think that this very smart man wouldn’t be running for president at this utterly undistinguished point in his life (Kay Bailey Hutchison, for one, gots more experience than this lightweight hack) without bitch bites up and down his back, you’re a moron. That’s just the way those people are raised. Liberal red-diaper people, I mean. It disgusts me that I have to say that, but I don’t want to end up an object lesson in an episode of Purposely Misread the Old White Dude.

Via Big Dick up in Austin…

Thank you, Mr Morrow. Worth the wait, but I’m exhausted.

I can’t believe that nobody informed me of this - the Stars have…Ice Girls?

Well, yee haw, ladies.

…because I don’t want to jinx it, is being broadcast by Versus, which is carrying the Canucks’ TSN feed. It’s a genuine pleasure that practically nothing said so far resembles any kind of American sportscast, which mostly sounds like Idiocracy. Beautiful Queen’s English with no stuttering ex-jocks saying “Ya know” and “like” ever third monosyllabic mispronounced word.