Fortunately, the National Review missed it, too, and only got to it in this week’s issue.
No, scratch that: Their This Week feature that appeared this week, the January 24 issue, apparently originally appeared on the Internet on January 6.
It should maybe be called Three Weeks Ago.
This generally wouldn’t bother me, as I tend to read the magazine months later. This week was an aberration, as I needed a magazine to read whilst waiting in the son’s school car line yesterday, and I grabbed it from the top of the stack.
And, yes, I did resubscribe. They did drop the subscription rate from $60 a year to $10, and I’ll get that much value out of it from the book reviews and columns at the end. The regular Kevin Williamson “Those Republicans in the interior states are stupid/crazy” features? Not so much.
If you’re not a lab employee, any interaction with a lab monkey is going to be the start of some awful movie.
They say that the monkey, one of 100 in a trailer, was headed to the lab when the accident occurred. But, c’mon, man, we know that’s exactly what the authorities would say if the opposite were true. The monkey had nothing to do with the lab-American community. We get it.
And we’re all going to get it… whatever it is… the first time someone tries to befriend this monkey.
Except in my short story, “Joy Ride”, a valet “borrows” a Corvette for a ride over his break, and instead of totaling it, he puts it in a ditch and scratches it. Which might be totaled depending upon the age and mileage, I suppose.
Man, I wrote a lot of short stories when I was in college, back when I thought people might like to read what I wrote.
Which is weird, because all the NFL public and charitable announcement commercials during football games are no longer about Play60, its program to get kids to exercise. Instead, they’re all about the It Takes All Of Us announcements about programs raising awareness about race.
You mean the first actual, you know, health problem wasn’t solved yet and in fact worsened, but it was superseded by a more contemporary political concern?
You know, I was going to get “Weird Al” Yankovic concert tickets for my family for Christmas, something to stick into their stockings for a nice treat. But the page for the concert says that proof of vaccination or a negative COVID test within 72 hours of the event.
The concert is scheduled for next August. In the next nine months, we can expect the definition of vaccination and COVID test to change once or twice.
You know, I stream WSIE, the Sound, the jazz station in the St. Louis area, and all of the concert announcements feature the same stricture. And I saw an out-of-date ad for the Springfield Contemporary Theatre–although I thought I would go to a lot of performances there when I first learned of it five years ago, I haven’t been back. But in addition to Facebook showing me ads for productions that were over, the theatre also has the vax passport or negative test bit.
You know what doesn’t have bouncers at the door checking your papers? Sporting events. Movie theaters. School events. You know, the things that the proles like.
So I guess I’ll be avoiding the hoity-toity cultural events for the nonce.
(Related: It’s time to abolish ‘emergency’ COVID-19 powers by Glenn Reynolds. Although down here in the Ozarks, most of those things have already been eliminated, although my son has to mask up again for his school since they set Protocols at the beginning of the year, and they must slavishly follow them.)
And to be honest, using “Booming” to describe how the price of everything has gone up in the last year is a bit of a stretch of optimism.
But, yeah, in an inflationary environment, when the elites and journalists are all about explaining how the inflation is good for you and the loss of freedom is good for you, and you’re a racist anyway, why are Americans glum?
Must be the grey skies with little chance of snow.
It’s not that the ruling regimes became corrupt and unable to manage or perform the necessary government duties. It was the volcanoes.
I just glanced at it, and I can’t help note that all the data stops at 1911. What, no earthquake in 1949? Weird that when the technology and recorded history gets better at recording actual volcanic eruptions, the charts stop.
I am skeptical about anything about China, especially speculative scientific work by Chinese scientists or historians.
(I saw the link somewhere else first, but it also appeared at Instapundit where Professor Reynolds uses it to advocate for space colonization.)
Prince Charles’ glorious former home is up for sale for the first time since he sold it over 27 years ago — but there’s a catch.
Listed at nearly $6.7 million, the next buyer must be OK with his royal highness stopping by to fish.
The listing explains that since the home was built in 1906, it has been owned by the Duchy of Cornwall — an estate that funds “the public, charitable and private activities of the Prince of Wales and his family,” according to its website.
“A quirk remaining from the previous ownership allows his royal highness to retain the right to fish on the property’s riverbank as long as 24-hour notice is given,” a representative for the real estate agency, Knight Frank, told Insider.
In the olden days, of course, the kings and princes could do that at any home they wanted. They were all the king’s fish, after all.
Jim Treacher, a RINO who probably wanted Hillary to win, said:
Yesterday I joked about Marvel giving Paste-Pot Pete his own movie because they’re running out of decades-old comics characters to exploit. Well, the joke’s on me, because Marvel just announced a 2022 Halloween special for Disney Plus that will feature… Werewolf By Night. If the character’s name confuses you, he’s a werewolf. Who comes out by night. Which is redundant if you’re at all familiar with the werewolf legends, but whatever.
Of course, they would probably be on Disney+, which I won’t subscribe to, or released in theaters, and I’ve been over super hero movies for some time now. So it wouldn’t matter much to me. And given the things I’ve recently picked up in the dollar comic boxes at Nameless City, I might be over comics too.
Which leaves me more time for men’s adventure paperbacks, I guess.
Recently, I perused three emails from bookstores offering children’s book recommendations from a national “Indie Next” program organized by the American Booksellers Association (ABA). Amid 93 new books, all published since May, I couldn’t find one that would appeal to my boys. The choices included a “feel-good contemporary romance” about a young trans athlete fighting against a “discriminatory law targeting trans athletes”; a book about a young lesbian with pansexual and nonbinary friends who denounced her white privilege; a “queer coming of age story” about a young lesbian who joins the boy’s football team; a young-adult novel about genderfluidity by a non-binary writer who is the mother of a transgender child; a “tale of self-discovery” about a bisexual love triangle; a book about a transgender witch named Wyatt; and a “fabulously joyful” novel about “drag, prom, and embracing your inner queen” that featured “a fat, openly gay boy stuck in a small West Texas town.” Other titles included the tale of a Puerto Rican eighth-grader who “navigates . . . the systemic pressures of toxic masculinity and housing insecurity in a rapidly gentrifying Brooklyn”; a young-adult thriller with a bisexual protagonist that explores the “politics of systemic racism”; and Don’t Hate the Player, a novel about gamers I thought would appeal to the boys until I realized it was about a young feminist battling misogyny from the “male-dominated gaming community.”
My son, a sophomore now (WHAT? He’s only five, ainna?), and for an English project, he was allowed to choose from a menu of books to read, with wide ranging topics from all cops are bastards to all soldiers are war criminals to coming of age and coming out. When I was in high school, I read Last of the Mohicans as a sophomore and A Tale of Two Cities as a freshman–among other things.
The good news is that he and a number of his classmates see it for what it is and aren’t especially duped by it.
Gov. Mike Parson said he was pursuing criminal prosecution against the St. Louis Post-Dispatch and its reporters Thursday after the newspaper discovered a data vulnerability in a state website.
Sections of the Department of Elementary and Secondary Education’s website allowed someone visiting the site to search through teacher credentials and certifications, revealing Social Security numbers within the HTML source code of the pages, the Post-Dispatch reported. That source code is available to anyone visiting a website on a web browser.
Yeah, pumping out the social security numbers in hidden fields is bad juju, and it does not require any manner of hacking to get to it.
I wonder why Parson has gone nuclear over this? To shore up his support with educational professionals? C’mon, man.
Get out the old dusty shoeboxes from the attic because a historic trading card boom is underway. One company is cashing in by helping thousands around the world buy and sell little cardboard versions of their beloved sports icons.
Once a beacon of childhood memories for generations, trading cards are now a booming business for the Camann family in Richmond, Virginia.
The thief who shattered the glass door and display cases at Realms of Gaming here Monday, swiping thousands of dollars’ worth of collectible trading cards, also may be behind similar break-ins in St. Louis County.
Police in the bistate region will be sharing notes Wednesday to see if the burglaries are the work of the same people, said Troy police Chief Brent Shownes.
“We’re learning of more and more of these,” Shownes said, estimating a half-dozen such burglaries in recent days.
They include break-ins at two game stores on Watson Road. Game Nite at 8380 Watson Road in Marlborough and Yeti Gaming at 8920 Watson Road in Crestwood were burglarized late Sunday night and early Monday.
I still don’t plan on retiring based on the value of my middle 1980s baseball cards. But perhaps I should plan on having to defend them with deadly force.