Mighty fighting Hawks   28/9/2008

Well, that didn’t go as scripted.
Hawthorn 18.7 (115)
Geelong 11.23 (89)
Everything that needs to be said is here.

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Go Cats!!   27/9/2008

The sky was a rich blue dotted with a few white clouds over Geelong this morning, providing a perfect backdrop of Cats’ colours for the grand event this afternoon.
City streets are festooned with blue and white and virtually every shop window urges the team to premiership glory.
Geelong Art Supplies had the best display with one window honouring past premiership battles and the other paying tribute to today’s line-up.
This display records the Cats’ 1953 premiership loss to the mighty Pies.

Pen pics of greats from the past:

Geelong’s favourite ranga:

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Ugly threat   21/9/2008

Talentless hag Sandra Bernhard has well and truly out-slimed her celebrity cronies in attacks on Sarah Palin by warning that the VP candidate would be “gang-raped by my big black brothers” if she comes to New York as planned this week.
As pointed out here, attacks by Hollywood airheads will most probably only bolster middle America’s support for Palin.
Love this line from Barbra Striesand, who claimed on her website that McCain’s selection of Palin to lure Clinton voters was a calculated, cynical ploy that would fail.
“We are not that stupid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” she wrote.

You sure, Babs?
Um, I’d have thought that 20 exclamation marks in a row is the literary equivalent of a foot-stamp.

UPDATE: The hate-filled harridan has had her comeuppance

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On YOUR bike, scumbag   20/9/2008

Shock, then deep sorrow and finally seething anger accompanied my departure from the commuter train on Thursday evening.
I wandered around to the bike racks to find that for the third time in three years, my conveyance or a major part of it, had been nicked.
There was no sign of the combination lock cable it was hitched to the rack with, so I presume the thieving scum either jagged the combo or cut the cable. Three years ago the same thing happened when my cable-secured bike was stolen from my back yard. A few months ago, again at North Geelong station, a light-fingered louse stole my back wheel.
Strangely for a sour old curmudgeon, for a while on Thursday I was emotionally overcome and almost in tears. A 21-speed Avanti mountain bike, it has been a constant companion for two years taking me back and forward to the station daily and on weekend rides of up to 50km around the district. I really felt like I’d suddenly lost an old pal.
Then, as I trudged the 3km home, blistering hostility set in.
How dare they, I muttered. I get up at 5.30am daily for an 11-hour work commitment so I can hand over a third of my hard-earned to pay the dole to drug-addled, graffiti-daubing, mono-syllabilic, tattooed, puss-sucking, pimple-scratching, rotten-fanged, bike-thieving spawn of imbeciles.
The criminal classes just better pray that I don’t draw jury duty in the next week.
Was it that long ago that bike racks in public places would be chokka with Malvern Stars and not a sign of a lock, chain or cable securing them?

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Tough Tzipi   14/9/2008

Muslim extremists — and their left wing supporters in the West — won’t be too happy with this political development.

ISRAEL’S foreign minister, Tzipi Livni, has moved into a strong lead in the race to take over the governing party, putting her in line to become the country’s first woman prime minister since Golda Meir became the original “Iron Lady” nearly 40 years ago.

Presumably, she knows her enemies well:

A former lieutenant in the Israeli army, Livni joined Mossad, Israel’s overseas secret service. Based in Paris aged 26, she helped Mossad teams pursue Arab terrorists in Europe.

And she knows what to do with them:

However, she does not hide her opinions on Hamas. “If they resume firing, I’ll act first and then we’ll see,” she said.
On peace with Syria, she said: “Peace is not just eating houmous in a Damascus restaurant. It’s, above all, Syria’s exit from the axis of evil and giving up support for terrorists.”

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Lefty right, for once   

Finally, a lefty commentator gets it. Guy Rundle in the Sunday Age:

Suddenly with “Walnuts” McCain and Sarah the Warrior Princess marketing themselves as a pair of mavericks, Obama’s extraordinary life story looked merely exotic, a Pacific souvenir. Taken together, McCain’s war experience and Palin’s whole life — the (very infrequent) hunting, the son going to Iraq and, god help us, shipping out on September 11, the taking a Down syndrome child to term — are all visceral, physical. They’re commitments to life and death, and that is the raw material of heroism.
There’s nothing rational about the power these factors have in selecting the leader of a high-tech country in a globalised world — a “hero” is as likely to lead you to national disaster as anyone — but to imagine they don’t stack up well against the prosaic world of lawyers and community organisers is to revel in illusion.

Palin and McCain are real people with real stories that real people can identify or empathise with. Barack Obama is a product of the political elite. A product that passes muster with all the right focus groups, that ticks all the boxes on the liberal-left agenda. But like his lordly rhetoric, Obama has no substance. He could have been created on Madison Avenue.
The other vital fact that dogmatic Democrats don’t understand is that the masses don’t hate like them. Out in suburbia and in the regions, a woman who wouldn’t think twice about having an abortion can enjoy a strong friendship with a right-to-lifer by agreeing to disagree; a committed atheist may regard a Pentacostalist as his most trusted colleague in the workplace.
But the left, in their inner-urban enclaves and surrounded by group-thinkers, have neither tolerance for contrary views nor the manners to deal with them on an extended basis.

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Obama sneers at McCain’s war injuries   13/9/2008

When the hapless Jimmy Carter won the US presidency, the sympathetic media of the day made much of his advisers. Young hip southerners, they were touted — particularly by Rolling Stone magazine — as the new wave of highly-intelligent, principled, compassionate policy makers who would forever change American politics.
They turned out to be bigger duds than Jimmah and for the life of me, I can’t even remember their names. Wonder if anyone at Rolling Stone does?
Could it be that Obama has surrounded himself with similar self-promoters who when the pressure’s on are masters at snatching defeat from the jaws of victory?
A while back, their man looked unbeatable for the presidency. But a shock appointment by his opponents that has struck a resounding chord with the electorate has pushed Obama firmly on to the back foot. And from that position the suspicion that he was a fancy-talking empty suit with little substance is turning very much into confirmation.
His advisers aren’t helping him out of the political morass, either. They went on the attack today with an ad that portrays John McCain as yesterday’s man because he can’t send an email.
Oh real bright, Barackers. Yes, he struggles to physically use digital technology. But for a very profound reason:
. . . that because of his Vietnam War injuries, suffered at the hands of his tortuous North Vietnamese captors, Sen. McCain cannot type on a keyboard.
The Boston Globe reported the details in an article first published in March 2000.
McCain gets emotional at the mention of military families needing food stamps or veterans lacking health care. The outrage comes from inside: McCain’s severe war injuries prevent him from combing his hair, typing on a keyboard, or tying his shoes.

Otherwise, he is completely au fait with email and the net:
In certain ways, McCain was a natural Web candidate. Chairman of the Senate Telecommunications Subcommittee and regarded as the U.S. Senate’s savviest technologist, McCain is an inveterate devotee of email. His nightly ritual is to read his email together with his wife, Cindy. The injuries he incurred as a Vietnam POW make it painful for McCain to type. Instead, he dictates responses that his wife types on a laptop. “She’s a whiz on the keyboard, and I’m so laborious,” McCain admits.

This attack ad appears to be the biggest blunder of the campaign so far. You have to wonder what calibre of political nincompoop dreamed it up and approved it. To ridicule the injuries a war hero suffered at the hands of torturers is such a vile attack that even the disgustingly partisan mainstream media will be hard put to nudge it aside. Compounding their vicious ignorance is the inference that here’s old dinosaur McCain who wouldn’t know digital technology if it byt him on the bum. Utterly wrong on that count, too, as this Forbes’ outline of McCain’s pioneering work in online campaigning illustrates.

Ultimately, McCain realized he couldn’t go the distance, but the message was clear to any political organization with hopes for the future. His Web team had played the Internet like a Stradivari. Ballot petitioning was simplified. Local email brought out large crowds on a few hours’ notice. The Web was used to enlist phone bankers from all over the country to download voter lists in upcoming primary states and then to make calls from their homes. Hundreds of thousands were reached at virtually no cost, compared to the going rate of 50 cents for every call from a professional phone bank. The Web became a virtual political print shop enabling thousands of volunteers to download and reproduce millions of pieces of campaign literature and signs on their home printers. The various pages on McCain’s Web site were used to put out key registration information and to douse political fires.

It’s obvious which camp finds the Internet more difficult to use. Particularly for basic research.

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Happy tidings   

Much excitement of late at Chez Slatts. Dad’s darling, Erin, has agreed to go down the aisle with her beau, Gerard.
This girl likes everything to be just perfick, so we’re expecting the Visa to get a good workout over the next few months.
They’re also planning to move back to Geelong from Melbourne and are house-hunting. My bride leaves no doubts about her wishes by inquiring whether every property visited has a backyard “big enough for a swing-set”.
Here’s the loving couple:

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Cringe material for warmenistas   7/9/2008

Don’t you feel sorry for the many otherwise well-informed, good-hearted people who believe the manmade global warming myth?
Sometimes they must feel so embarrassed by the company they keep.

UN says eat less meat to curb global warming
People should have one meat-free day a week if they want to make a personal and effective sacrifice that would help tackle climate change, the world’s leading authority on global warming has told The Observer

Makes me want to turn off the Father’s Day barbecue. Like hell it does! Come on gang, more snags . . . turn those chops . . . sizzle that T-bone . . . open that VB!

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Warming blarney   

The Irish invented bulltish. That’s why we’re so good at detecting it.
Minister for the Environment Sammy Wilson has dramatically spelt out his scepticism about whether humans are responsible for global warming.

Found at Tim Blair’s

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Chroming   

Just downloaded the new Google Chrome browser. Much faster loads than Firefox. It wouldn’t play a Flash vid from Bolt’s blog, though. I’ll do some testing later.

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Acceptable hatred   6/9/2008

Hasn’t much of the mainstream media reaction to Sarah Palin revealed the left’s hypocrisy and bigotry? And ignorance?
Bleeding hearts who forever whine about “inclusion” and “compassion” for minorities suffer amnesia when anyone with opposing attitudes to life and society wins public support.
The ”compassionate” ones are outraged if someone attacks Islamic practices, yet they’ll let loose with savage slurs on evangelical Christians.
They’re forever hinting that the midlands of America are hotbeds of racism – ignoring the many dark complexions at the GOP convention – yet don’t see the double standard in using terms like white trash and rednecks.
They bellyache for years about the “glass ceiling”, yet when someone defiantly breaks through on her own terms, they attack her for her position on the sanctity of life.
They spread vicious lies about Palin’s oldest daughter and younger son, sneer at her provincial background and mock her middle-American values.
One Obama-infatuated New York columnist even criticised, fergawdzakes, her hairstyle.
Oh, and the kids’ names elicited superior snorts, as if inner-urban plonkers aren’t prone to branding their spawn with cringe-makers such as Lucifer (kid you not), BJ and Agatha.
These elitists think they’re intellectually superior, yet ironically they often reveal their ignorance when going the smart-arse against the lesser classes. I bet that sub-editor thought he/she was so very clever with that line today: REDNECKS IN THE WHITE HOUSE.
The pejorative redneck applies to white working class men in the US south; working outdoors year-round in the sun-baked states leaves them ruddy below the hair line.
The Palins hail from Alaska where the downside of outdoors toil is more likely frostbite than sunburn.
But that’s a squillion miles away. How the heck could a 21st century metropolitan journalist know that?

UPDATE:
Here’s a handy resource to set straight all the suckers who fall for the Obama camp’s bulltish about Sarah Palin.

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