Hammer Mill Days

Don't see it? Well look again. That flaring star. That's the sun... our sun. The sun the earth orbits. Its temperature is so high it can turn this ship's hull to butter... and we're heading straight for it! Yikes... didn't know anyone was listening, there. Just rehearsing my lines for the upcoming Lost In Space favorite episodes playoff. Haven't heard of it? Not surprised. Oh... did you think I was talking about our own interstellar travels just then? Heh heh heh.... No, no. Not a bit of it. The flaring star we're headed straight towards is not the Earth's sun. It's another star, far hotter than our own... a blue dwarf, as it were. And it won't reduce our hull to butter. Oh, no... just vaporize it entirely, along with everything inside. So there's a difference between television melodrama and the real thing, my friends, and don't you forget it. Hollywood is the land of butter hulls. In real life, the term of art is "vaporization...

I had resolved to dedicate my blog rambling to a suggestion list for the incoming Obama administration over these few remaining weeks of the Bush II era. (Suggestion #9 - drop the homophobe preacher.) But sometimes events overtake us... events in the shape of a size ten shoe. Actually, two size ten shoes, tossed quite skillfully at the commander in chief himself, who dodged them - also quite skillfully - much as he's been able (up to this point, at least) to dodge responsibility for the mass death and destruction he has brought down upon Iraq. This was for the widows and orphans and the thousands killed, said Muntazer al-Zaidi as he hummed the second limo at our fearless (or clueless) leader. My first thought was, huh... an anger so pervasive that it was able to penetrate even the octuple security of the Green Zone's inner sanctum and make the president duck. And, as I'm sure someone has observed, it was no lame duck.... quite adept. Makes me wonder if people chuck things a...