Thursday, December 30, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Monday, December 27, 2010
Another ill-begotten year reaches its ignominious conclusion, which means it is once again time to bestow the annual titles of Iowahawk Man and Woman of the Year - honoring those American citizen who, through creative application of vehicular and/or intoxicant and/or erotic science, best exemplify the inspirational can-do spirit of this blog and its readers.
The 2010 Iowahawk Man of the Year
WILLIAM ALAN 'MONKEY MAN' GIVAN
(Nominated by Iowahawk reader Tex Lovera)
In a heartwarming holiday tale of the bond between a human and his pets, when Mr. Givan found himself in trouble last week his animal companions sprang to his aid.
The 2010 Iowahawk Woman of the Year (Tie)
How many times have we all said, "it's 2010 - where is my flying car?" Last June at DFW International Airport, Ms. Villasana proved that the spirit of Kitty Hawk is alive and well.
MELISSA LEE WILLIAMS
Fairplan, West Virgina
The noted Prussian military strategist Von Clausewitz once said, "pursue one great decisive aim with force and determination." You will be hard pressed to find anyone who better embodied that spirit in 2010 than Ms. Williams. (Caution, verbally NSFW)
Sunday, December 26, 2010
The confirmation came from a publicist, Jasmine Vega, who worked with Teena [...]"
Such brave jihadis, using a woman to attack innocent people — refugees waiting for food:
A female Taliban suicide bomber killed 42 Pakistani civilians in an attack at a World Food Program ration distribution point in Pakistan’s tribal agency of Bajaur.
The female suicide bomber detonated her vest in the midst of a crowd of more than 300 people waiting at a checkpoint outside for handouts from the World Food Program in Khar, the main town in Bajaur. Those waiting for food were among the internally displaced people who fled the fighting between the military and the Taliban over the past three years.
Pakistani officials said that 42 people were killed and 72 more were wounded, some critically.
In the pamphlets, the Taliban “threatened the people, particularly the government employees and security forces, not to support the agenda of the US and its allies,” The News reported. “The militants said that they would continue their ‘jihad’ against the US and its supporters. They also urged the Taliban fighters not to surrender to the government and warned them and security forces of stern action.”
Tell me again that this isn’t a religious war, that its “root causes” are instead found in poverty, a lack of education, Western colonialism, or any of a dozen other leftist shibboleths… Anything except what the barbarians say it is: a war against the non-Islamic, against Western civilization and its values.
Maybe ought to listen to what they’re telling us, instead."
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Antisemitism is coming into fashion again, and anti-Israel bus ads had been set to start running on twelve buses in Seattle this Monday. The ads featured the hateful slogan, “Israeli War Crimes: Your Tax Dollars at Work.” But two days after my organization, the American Freedom Defense Initiative, announced that we would be running king-sized pro-Israel ads on Seattle buses to counter their hate ads, King County Metro Transit folded: Transit officials issued a statement Thursday saying that they would be refusing the anti-Israel, antisemitic ads. They were “changing their policy.”
The annihilationist bus ads were rejected!
It was a bad day for Nazis and Jew-haters, and a huge victory for all lovers of freedom.
The AFDI ads were singular and hard-hitting: “In any war between the civilized man and the savage, support the civilized man. Support Israel. Defeat Islamic jihad,” and “One Billion Dollars to Hamas. Your Tax Dollars at Work.”
And this one:
As for the Jewish blood libel being sponsored by the notorious antisemite Ed Mast, Seattle Mass Transit is having second thoughts.
Our objective was achieved: the Jew-hate ads were dropped after we exposed the hypocrisy of the Seattle Transit authorities. But wait. It gets better. King County Metro Transit has also now changed its ad policy. Isn’t that special? This policy change enabled them to refuse AFDI’s pro-Israel ad as well. King County Executive Dow Constantine explained that the policy change was made because “the escalation of this issue from one of 12 local bus placards to a widespread and often vitriolic international debate introduces new and significant security concerns that compel reassessment.”
And who was introducing the vitriol and the significant security concerns, as far as King County Metro Transit was concerned? Me, of course. Who else? They were OK with a Jewish blood libel but hid under their desks when truth demanded equal time.
Sharron Shinbo of King County Metro Transit stated that my AFDI ads would “pose an unacceptable risk of harm, disruption and interference with the transportation system and other breaches of the public safety, peace and order.”
So now anti-jihad ads denouncing a terrorist group that all decent people should revile “pose an unacceptable risk of harm, disruption and interference with the transportation system.”
Truth is the new hate speech.
This is the heckler’s veto. Remember, King County Metro Transit was down with the Jew-haters and their vile advertisement. They were even going to charge me more than they were charging the antisemites. According to Seattle’s KING 5 News, Seattle Mideast Awareness Campaign paid $1,794 to run the ads. However, King County Metro Transit would not offer me that price. I asked for the same deal as the Jew-haters received, but was told that the price in the article was “misquoted.” They quoted me a price of $2,760 per ad.
Seattle Transit officials also dragged their feet in approving my ad from the beginning. At one point they demanded that I put my phone number and address on the bus ads. I get my fair share of hate mail and threats, as you might imagine, but in the past the brazen hate and annihilationist dreams were kept in check by good men who stood for good over evil. The ascent of Islam and the voluntary abdication of the West as a force for good has unleashed the forces of evil from their hiding places of hell. How about putting a big giant target on my back, clowns?
And remember: now they’re saying that both the Jew-hate ad and my ads violate their guidelines, but they had already accepted the antisemitic ad. Seattle had no hesitation depicting Jews defending themselves as a war crime until we placed our counter-ad. “Palestinian” Muslims have fired over ten thousand rockets into southern Israel, but now Seattle won’t allow ads condemning the actual war crimes.
The Jew-hating, anti-Israel ad didn’t “pose an unacceptable risk of harm, disruption and interference with the transportation system and other breaches of the public safety, peace and order” until we responded with fierce truth. And then they said, never mind. But they won’t get off so easy. This is actionable. Legally actionable.
We will pursue this battle legally and roll out the pro-Israel bus ads elsewhere. My life-saving bus ads for Muslim apostates were banned in Detroit. We had to sue to get them up in Miami. We had to sue New York transit to get Ground Zero bus ads up.
Speech is free as long as you demonize Jews or Christians.
But we will not stand for it. And you shouldn’t, either. Ayn Rand said it:
The spread of evil is the symptom of a vacuum. Whenever evil wins, it is only by default: by the moral failure of those who evade the fact that there can be no compromise on basic principles.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Seasons Greetings… Black Radicals Scream Racist Insults & Attack Christians at Oklahoma City Bus Terminal on Christmas Eve (Video) | ShyBarbarian.com
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Los Angeles-based artist Jeff Nishinaka is a paper sculptor born in Los Angeles. He has gained international recognition in the past fifteen years through his unique representational art forms in 3-Dimension for both the fine and commercial arts. “Paper to me is a living breathing thing that has a life of its own. I just try to redirect that energy into something that feels animated and alive” said Nishinaka. Look at the vivid sculptures, don’t they really have lives now?
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
(Stellar's Jay and Gray Squirrel, both drawn by me in Microsoft Paint)
~~~ yours in Chaos, Scarlett
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.
He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light,--
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm."
Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.
Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street
Wanders and watches, with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.
Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,--
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town
And the moonlight flowing over all.
Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay,--
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.
Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse's side,
Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns.
A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.
It was twelve by the village clock
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmer's dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.
It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would look upon.
It was two by the village clock,
When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadow brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket ball.
You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled,---
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
>From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.
So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,---
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo for evermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow; Paul Revere
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Storm clouds at sunset, June 2012.
The above taken on a motorcycle ride; a ranch in the Mt. Evans area, Colorado.
Something I have discovered I have in common with my good-looking friend:
To wit, a keen appreciation for sky and clouds. He sent me the above picture yesterday (I think it was yesterday), with a notation that he "loves the sky". Well: Hell, yeah!
The images below were made with my crappy old camera phone (except for the one from 2005, that was taken with my crappy old webcam) SO DON'T COMPLAIN. I have a new camera but circumstances seem to be conspiring to keep me from being able to use it--I STILL haven't been able to get a memory card for it. Hmf. >[
I live in a teeny tiny town on Colorado's Eastern plains. I take a lot of pictures off my front porch. And why shouldn't I? This place is AWESOME. I get to see the Milky Way every single night unless it's cloudy. I can pick out each star in the Pleiades constellation with just a pair of binoculars. (Once I get my new camera going, I fully intend to prove that.)
From my porch.
Windmill and clouds near Mathie, Colorado.
Storm clouds. (Deer Trail, Colorado)
My porch again. The sky had this unusual glazed appearance to it that day.
From the porch at the house where I lived in 2005/2006 near Byers, Colorado. I'm really not much of a morning person, either, but when I lived in that place I would wake up just before sunrise a lot of the time because it was either that or freeze to death.
I can hear you laughing! But me and my critters actually DID almost freeze to death a few times in that place. Nice area (sort of) but quite... er... DRAFTY. Lots of flies, too. Ok, it was like being in Hell, most of the time, except Hell is not as expensive. I'm just sort of glossing over that. It's over now: That's something to be happy about.
I have lots more pictures of clouds and stuff--I'm very tiresome that way. At least I have discovered an exuberant friendship with another person who I'm delighted to discover shares this tiresomeness with me. ;)
~~~ yours in Chaos, Scarlett