On Saturday night my parents, my sister, her husband and I played Scene It?, a DVD-empowered game of cinema and pop culture trivia. One of the poser clips was of character The Dude's dream sequence from The Big Lebowski. Now, The Big Lebowski's antiheroism doesn't exactly jive with my straight-laced sensibilities. I instead find a lasting bond to the respective guilelessness, audacity and refinement in characters Data, William Wallace and Paladin from Star Trek: The Next Generation, Braveheart and Have Gun - Will Travel. Flaws are okay; I like my heroes on the right side of things.
But that's beside the point. There was Lebowski, dancing among Viking maidens of the bowling lanes. I've only seen the movie twice; the first time I panned it as junk and the second time I reluctantly marked it as unassuming, cynical brilliance. Yet only twice, so before Saturday night I had not remembered the most jarring entrance in the dream sequence: to the Dude's horror, the man renting out bowling shoes is none other than Saddam Hussein.
Lebowski hit theaters five years before the ex-strongman crawled out of his rathole, whose mock cameo left most moviegoers and critics baffled — at the time. In his current lot, Baghdad's deposed dictator would be lucky ending up hawking shoes in an alley. And then, of course, consider all the business with overjoyed Iraqis beating effigies of their fallen oppressor with footwear. Lebowski: Providential?
The magic of reflection: mirrors work exactly the same, apparently, south of the Mason-Dixon. I'm sporting the polo shirt in question. Note a sheer lack of conspicuity of said shirt's wear.
We're in Maryland. It's beautiful. And nearly 100 degrees.
I had a few words to say yesterday on Mickey Kaus' choice of president and foreign policy. Roger Simon, as usual, offers good advice from a very relevant perspective.
I'm on the road for Maryland today. Expect blogging this weekend. In the meantime, browse, review or step off from this place to head to the center of the culture universe.
I'm back — just arrived home. Some photos of the day's work with a smattering of commentary will be up shortly (on that you can count). One brief political observation: last night, when I read that "retired and discharged soldiers" were to be called back to duty, my first thought was of how impolitic the move might be received by the American public. My second thought was that it couldn't be entirely true.
It turns out that my second impression was correct — Sergeant Stryker details how poorly the Associated Press understands military red tape:
That's inaccurate. When you sign your contract, you're agreeing to serve a specified period of time on active duty, and then serve the remaining time in the Inactive, or Individual Ready Reserves for a grand total of eight years Total Federal Military Service. It's not eight years beyond your active duty period, it's eight years TFMS with a certain period (4-6 years) on active duty.As far as retirees are concerned, it's always been my understanding that you're on the hook for an additional ten years after you retire (I'm uncertain about the actual number of years). I know my father was placed into the Fleet Reserve for a time after he retired from the Navy, and I'm sure the other services have something similar to the Navy's program.
As to my first impression, there are people who will gladly grab this news and pin it to their official "Bush is Straining our Military" bulletin board. I had a conversation recently where my counterpart successfully turned every fighting man and woman into a victim who thought that the worst to face in Iraq was a stroppy camel. I didn't interrupt; a mind was made up and was going to lecture. Why challenge Newtonian discourse?
Stryker also mentions Stop-Loss, the military's ability to keep soldiers in rotation, which doesn't make for the happiest soldier &38212 but an order that appears to be rescinded as much as it is declared. Stryker's commenters, nearly all of them veterans, are just as insightful.
Work takes me onsite tomorrow, traveling by plane to Kelleys Island. I'll bring along my camera and, whenever able, capture some choice slices of life. The first installment of four Albany Excursion photo-documentaries is nearly complete and will be ready to go before the weekend, but as you can see I've posted another preview to keep the natives quiet.
It just goes to show: the people with the worst things to say about Rush Limbaugh are the least familiar with him and his program. (Via IP.)
BY THE WAY: The "Limbaugh Defense" is a classic example of leftist ad hominem tu quoque.
Via Craig Brett, a boatload of African refugees suffered an unfortunate introduction to Continental Europe when their vessel washed up on a nudist beach. In addition to dehydration and hypothermia, afflictions among the visitors apparently included hysteria and temporary blindness. Bumping into Spaniards — not all of whom should be sunning in birthday suits — must be quite a shock, culturally or otherwise, but I invite us to consider a more otherworldly, traumatic destination; a true Bedlam. The Africans, you see, could have run aground at Berkeley.
This weekend's festivities ran a little longer than I anticipated — no bad thing, but the Albany Excursion photographs will be a little longer in coming. I'll keep you posted.
