When the Tellerite was murdered, I was quite incapacitated.

Proof Sarek was in Epstein's cell!

KIRK: How was he killed?
MCCOY: His neck was broken. By an expert.
KIRK: Explain.
MCCOY: Well, from the nature and location of the break, I'd say the killer knew exactly where to apply pressure to snap the neck instantly.
KIRK: Who aboard would have that knowledge?
SPOCK: Vulcans. On Vulcan, the method is called tal-shaya. It was considered a merciful form of execution in ancient times.
KIRK: Spock. A short time ago, I broke up an argument between Gav and your father.
SPOCK: Indeed, Captain? Interesting.
MCCOY: Interesting? Spock, do you realise that makes your father the most likely suspect?
SPOCK: Vulcans do not approve of violence.
KIRK: You're saying he couldn't have done it?
SPOCK: No, Captain. I'm merely saying it would be illogical to kill without reason.
KIRK: But if he had a reason, could he have done it?
SPOCK: If there were a reason, my father is quite capable of killing. Logically and efficiently.

"Symbolic of his struggle against reality."

38 years ago this was hilarious.  Because it was ridiculous.

10 years ago it was cautionary.

Now, in certain places in the country, the behavior shown is illegal.

Parables? Shmareables!

So to stick with the sci fi theme...

Current events, the non-final frontier.  These are the voyages, blah blah blah.

There are lots of sci fi stories about telepathy.  Lots.  One of the more common themes, if I recall correctly, is the harmful social effect that true un-regulated telepathic powers would create.  Imagine if everyone knew how much you

• disliked white people.
• liked Bob's wife.
• REALLY liked Bob's wife.
• hated Carl's wife.
• REALLY hated Carl's wife.
• liked musicals.
• REALLY liked musicals.

Point being, you have your public, acceptable face, which lets you keep your job and your friends and your family intact, which is good for you and good for society.  And you've got that inner face that really wants to check on those back issues of Stump Humper magazine (yuck).

In my mind it started with bumper stickers.  From announcing "I HEART SOMETHINGOROTHER", progressing through "My kids rocks!" and the silly stick figure family crap, ending with various versions of "Fuck You if You Don't Agree!".  But I'm a grumpy Old Guy so who cares what I think.  What I know is that social media (and other factors) has made a bunch of people in this country unafraid to reveal their true inner selves, and made them feel encouraged to do so.

So pull down a statue, brawl with a nazi (I never get too upset when a socialist beats up another socialist), call for pogroms, go ahead.  Now I know who you are.  Yuck.

"Hello, how may I not help you today?"

I had no idea I was so pissed off about this until I was typing back and forth with my co-blogger just now.

So, a few weeks ago, United Airlines beats the shit out of a paying customer and throws him off their airplane.  Which I guess they can do.  I don't know.  The backlash was, well, you may have heard about it.

Then a couple of days later some American Airlines flight attendant allegedly gets into it with a passenger over a stroller and almost gets in a fight with a passenger who intervened.

So I read tonight that Delta, apparently keen to get in the mix, this week kicked a family off a flight because of some mix-up with using car seats for 2-year olds and what seems to be overbooking.

Story here.

Now, I actually watched the video for this one because the comments pointed out how calm the guy was, so I didn't feel like I was just watching for the car crash.  And here's the thing:  I don't know anything about airline rules, or FAA rules, and I'm not going to even speculate on who was right or wrong or why on this one because really, I have no clue and I wasn't there.  But what I do know about, see, is customer service.  I know a lot about it.  I've done more of it than I really care to admit, sometimes.  And so I'm watching and I'm pretty "hmm, that's interesting", until the part where the guy essentially says "OK, so this is happening.  What are you going to do to help us now?" and the customer representative, the key individual at the tip of the spear effectively replies "Nothing.  Once you're off the plane, you're on your own."

WRONG!

WRONG!  WRONG!  WRONG!

After the month the airlines have had, and KNOWING you're being recorded on peoples' phones, the ONLY correct answer at the speartip is some version of "We will bend over backwards to help you as best as we can within our rules and regulations."

Nothing short of that is even remotely acceptable.  Accept no blame.  Admit no responsibility.  Focus on the aftermath.  Demonstrate competence and compassion.  Leave the customer thinking "well, the event sucked, but I have to admit, the way they handled it afterward showed they at least cared."

If I were the king of Delta Airlines right now, that speartip person would be fired.  Every member of that crew would be fired. Their supervisors would be fired.  Anyone involved in the decision chain for that incident - fired.  Every department head I didn't fire would be running around my office building the next day yelling "WRONG! WRONG! WRONG!" at the top of their lungs until they collapsed in pools of their own spew.

I'm not exactly in love with Japanese culture, and I don't know who's running (JAL) Japan Airlines these days, but if something like this happened to them I bet a pizza that the CEO would be on national TV the next day in a white kimono, opening his own belly.

Principles

Some conservatives: "We should boycott lefty businesses!"

Me: "Have you ever HAD Cherry Garcia ice cream?!?!!?!?"

These Kids Today, My Elddaz!

You gotta figure that for at least the first 500 years, whenever Elrond heard remnants of the Dunedain refer to Amon Sul as "Weathertop", it was the equivalent of me hearing "I'll meet you at the Amonizzle Shizzle".

And That's the Truth! PPpbbbbffffttt!!!!!!

I'd like to offer my particular man-pig lens on the whole "man contrasted with woman" thing.  In general, of course.  With exceptions noted.

In America, the desired end-state of the average woman is some version of Audrey Hepburn's Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany's.

Whereas the desired state of the average man is some version of John Wayne's or Jeff Bridges' Rooster Cogburn in True Grit.

Now, I'm not saying that necessarily implies any complications in relations between the sexes, but...

I am saying it's kinda true.  Chew on that and spit out what you will.

Ode to Joy Indeed

This weekend I was in Boston (Hi Jay!) - my mom flew her little brood in to catch the Boston Symphony.  We have a minor tradition of doing Tanglewood every couple of summers for Beethoven's 9th Symphony (although one year we did the 1812 instead) but this year my mom wanted to do a nice steak place afterward so Boston it was.  (HINT FOR THE GUYS: TANGLEWOOD.  FALL.  EXPENSIVE.  BUT DO IT FOR THE LADY. JUST SHUT UP AND DO IT.)

Worst cabbies ever?  I had 'em.  But it was very nice to see my family, as we're scattered throughout Massachusetts, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, and Minnesota.  And Flemings serves up one NICE piece of steerflesh.  And out waitress was awesome.

I'd never been to Symphony Hall before, and it was very impressive.  We had good back-balcony seats and the acoustics were great.

When you bring the Tanglewood Chorus to your auditorium for the 4th movement of Beethoven's 9th, you tend to look for other chorale pieces for them to do, and accordingly the program Friday opened up with Stravinsky's Symphony of Psalms.  Embarrassingly, I don't know much about Stravinsky except the parts of the Rites of Spring that Disney used for Fantasia, but after listening to his Symphony of Psalms, I can confidently say: The Strav-monster liked him some oboes.

I was thinking about taking an extra day and visiting my blog-partner but he'd picked this weekend to run up and down a muddy mountain with his wife.

Selfish bastard, that one.


Anyway, the Ninth.  Wow.  4th time I've seen it live, and it still wrenches at me.  Thank you, Ludwig Van.

Who Ordered the Skeleton?

Damn Straight, courtesy of the Daily Mail.

While Gwyneth, with her willowy figure, exercise addiction and macrobiotic fussiness, seems to drive most ordinary women insane with resentment, most men are oblivious to her wan perfection.

We happily flick through the paper until we hit upon a small shot of Mad Men’s Christina Hendricks’ ample bosom, or Kelly Brook buying wallpaper while wearing a large sheepskin coat.

While Gwyn is proud of her taut, yoga body, men aren’t enthused. Men don’t hang around in pubs talking about how many sit-ups their wife can do. While shots of the stick-thin Gwyn might appeal to women, men prefer lumps, bumps and wobbly bits.

Yep. I mean, let's face it - the last people a woman should listen to about body ideals or clothing styles are gay dudes.

Ladies, fashion guys are gay, and gay dudes think girl parts are gross and disgusting, and to no one's surprise, they neither want to look at them nor even have them around. And what do gay dudes want to look at? Young men. So what do they try to make women look like? Young men.

It all makes sense, but it also makes nothing most men want.

It's a Guy Thing

Apropos of nothing at all, here's one of my favorite jokes; favorite because it tells so much about being a guy.

I forget where I first read it, but I found it again here:

A young single guy finds himself stranded on a deserted island.
As he washes ashore, he sees a woman passed out in the sand.
Able to perform CPR on her, he saves her life. Suddenly, he
realizes that the woman is Cindy Crawford.

Immediately, Cindy falls in love with the man. Days and weeks
go by, and they're making passionate love morning, noon and night.
True Heaven on earth in the man's eyes.

Alas, one day she notices he's looking kind of glum. "What's
the matter, sweetheart?" she asks. "We have a wonderful life
together and I'm in love with you. Is there something wrong?
Is there anything I can do?"

He says, "Actually, Cindy, there is. Would you mind, putting
on my shirt and pants?"

"Sure," she says," if it'll help." He takes off his shirt and
pants and she puts it on.

"Okay, would you put on my hat now, and draw a little mustache
on your face?" he asks.

"Whatever you want, sweetie," she says, and does so.

Then he says, "Now, would you start walking around the edge of
the island?"

She starts walking around the perimeter of the island. He
sets off in the other direction. They meet up half way around
the island a few minutes later. He rushes up to her, grabs her
by the shoulders, and says, "Dude! You'll never believe who I'm
sleeping with!"

I Know (What) You Are But What Am I?

My response to a lefty challenge of my knowledge of non-conservative issues on a public forum I participate in:

I've grown up in a generation saturated by left-wing media and culture. I'm well-versed in all the tropes, memes, paradigms, and cults of the American left. I know all about Mother Gaia, the evils of colonialism, the scourge of racism, and the arrogance of American Imperialism; I'm well aware of the dangers of guns, secondhand smoke, riding bikes without helmets, sugar, salt, and cholesterol; I know all about the evils of Christianity, the stupidity of people of faith, the wonders of the sexual revolution, the need for my 16 year old girlfriend to have access to an abortion, the need for a top-down welfare state, the chuckleheaded ignorance of countryfolk, and the importance of self esteem.

I know about all of these things.

I also listened to NPR for years, have 3 or 4 mugs and or tote bags from donations. I have many left of center friends, and they are NEVER shy about voicing their opinions, even if they are 100% ignorant of the topic involved.

No one can have grown up in the U.S. in the last 50 years and NOT be aware of all this crap. It's in the movies and TV we watch, the music we listen to, the news media that have largely prevailed during that time.

I do occasionally still listen to my local libtalk (ex Air America) station, and sometimes hop to HuffPo or the like. KOS and DU and NYT and the rest of that ilk are just trash in my opinion. And the good conservative sites - HotAir, Breitbart, Townhall, Powerline, etc., all regularly link over to mainstream and lefty stuff in full anyway, so I get a full dose.

So trust me - I know far more about why you think and believe the way you do than you do about why I think and believe the way I do.

Hollywood and Firearm Fetishism in North America

My bloodpressure is low, due to my habit of Living Clean, so I listen to NPR in the car to keep at normal levels.

The other day I heard an interview with Debra Granik, the director of Winter's Bone, a new movie set in the Ozarks. During the back and forth, Granik describes how hard it was to shoot a scene where the main character teaches her younger siblings to shoot.

NORRIS: This scene, I understand, was a difficult day of shooting. Why was it hard to get that scene just right?

Ms. GRANIK: Firearms for an East Coast person, such as myself, urban person, a person who has no hunting experience, they are already complicated. You know, I have a relationship to those issues that are so much a product of my upbringing and where I live geographically. And to make this scene work, I had to really get in the mind frame that this is something very important that people and families have to pass on to each other. And when children are involved, it has to be taught really well and really carefully.

And the idea that people can imbue children with a very great respect for something was also something that moved me. 

If you had to distill the difference between urban gun-fearing leftists and, well, the rest of us into one or two sentences, you couldn't do much better than that. I'm not sure whether to be happy that she saw that millions of people shoot responsibly and teach their kids the same, or irritated that she and so many other like her see firearms as so "complicated."

Don't Ask, Don't Tell, Don't Pretend

Over at Tam's place she's linked to a post at Atomic Nerds on the latest "bomb throw" by King Obama: Don't Ask, Don't Tell. While I agree that this is a hot potato tossed to the Republicans and conservatives that we do not have to try and catch, I disagree wholeheartedly with their main thesis.

LabRat over at Atomic Nerds bases their position around the money quote that Tam linked:

If Tiffani Amber the eighteen year old who happened to be blessed with the genes for a great rack can manage to not crack under such pressure, I think soldiers we expect to send into combat can probably find it within themselves.

The whole post is good and funny so it's a definite RTWT, but I think it's flawed at its heart. In the great sentence above, one key element is overlooked:

Men are not the same as women, and 18 year old men are NOT the same as 18 year old women.

Sure, a hot chick gets unwanted and unwarranted attention. Hell, non-hot chicks get that. But 18 year old women are not being forced to shave, shower, and shit with 18 year old men, and heretofore, always with good reason. 18 year old men are VERY VERY VERY interested in hot chicks to a degree that no one who is not, or has not been one, can really understand. Gay guys have the same drive, just in a different lane. And most straight guys DO NOT LIKE the idea of male sexual interest.

(And if Tiffani Amber of the 18-year great front porch isn't a little bit creeped-out by the idea of displaying her holiest of holies in front of a pack of horny guys, then don't we usually assume she's a little off center anyway?)

So, anyway, if you bring it out in the open like this, some necks are going to get broken in barracks, and some unit efficiencies are going to drop. End of the world? Nah. The pro-gay folks are whining for their cookie and they'll probably get it this time, and whatever the JCS decide is good enough for me the civvie.

So, to close: to me, politically, it's a silly fight to get drawn into, but it's also silly to presume that there's no fight to be had there.

Our Imaginary Vegan Ancestors (Of Whom There Are None)

I elevated this from comments because I have a cogent rebuttal. (Astonishing as it sounds.)

In this fantasy pre-historic cave-man land that you all seem to think you know so well, meat would probably have been damn hard to come by. Most days, if you were lucky enough to eat, you'd be eating vegan.

Well, no. Vegans don't use any animal products at all -- that means no honey, no leather, no fur, no silk. I was once told (but can't be bothered to confirm) that many vegans won't drink certain brands of beer as some brewers use gelatin in filters during brewing. A vegan lifestyle for our prehistoric forebears is unlikely.

But if you just want to restrict your comments to food, well, you're still wrong. Our ancestors ate all the way up and down the food chain. We share about 98-99% of our DNA with chimps, and if they can eat termite larvae, so can we.

But the most powerful argument against prehistoric humanity living in some kind of vegan paradise comes not from archaeology or sociology but from mathematics. You simply can't eat only vegetables and fruit and ingest enough calories or enough protein to survive outdoors, especially in a place that has a winter. (Note: I'm talking about pre-cultivation history here. Once you settle down and plant rice or wheat, things change a little)

And if you want more evidence, you should look at the great die-off of animal species that happened everywhere that humans emerged from Africa and spread around the world.

In North America, dozens of species disappeared 12,000 to 13,000 years ago, after the arrival of humans, including mammoths and mastodons (both relatives of modern elephants), giant ground sloths, tapirs, a large camel, llamas, a large-horned bison, prong-horned antelopes, oxen, a type of mountain goat, a giant armadillo and the glyptodonts, large mammals covered with solid armor. Large predators such as the saber-toothed cats, dire wolves and some bears also died off.

Just to make it clear: they died off because WE ATE THEM. A LOT.

The Plow, The Surplus and The Idiot

Civilization began in the great river valleys in Africa, Asia, and Mesopotamia. Every year the waters would rise and fall, refreshing the soil, irrigating the land.

But it wasn't until we began to farm that we stayed in one place to harvest and plant again. And it wasn;t until we developed tools like the plow that our nascent nations were able to produce a surplus of food, and allow some of the population to spend time not hunting or growing food.

The creation of the plow allows priests, merchants etc. to genuinely emerge and flourish.

I told you that so I could ask you this:

The following comes from a Vegan Roomate Wanted ad on Craigslist (Best Of). Do you believe, as I do, that our western Democracies must have an amazing amount of surplus production to allow this sort of person to appear?:

Vegan household only. No animal products in the house; no new leather shoes (I am not going to shun you for an old pair of hiking shoes�I am an avid dumpster diver and may have old stuff in my life too that is on its last round), no honey, no bee pollen, no wool, no down comforters. I am a liberationist animal rights person who has a total commitment to veganism. It is a defining feature in my life.

I take care of inside-only cats. It is important to be aware of the cats when opening the door, because they are inside only,but they are older and mostly you do not have to worry about escapees, just when bringing in groceries or something like that. I scoop the cat litter everyday and vacuum very often. I am very clean about the cats. They have been with me for a decade and are the sweetest older cats ever. I do not support the domestication of animals�they are rescue kitties from the streets. Their names are Mulder, Bromden, Theo, and Zen Mama.

It is important for me to live in a straight-edge environment. Please, no alcohol or pot or anything else in the house. Please be sober in the house, even if it is not your lifestyle.

I am an environmentally aware person. I do not have an air conditioning unit, I use the heat on low in the winter (lots of layers). I shop at People�s coop and Food Fight!, I recycle, reuse, reduce. I am very DIY. I do not have a garden (there is hardly a yard here). But you can bring compost waste to various places around town if you like. I am childless by choice and do not want any kids living here, sorry parents.

New Un-Guns

We're broad-minded here at Men Are Not Potatoes, and not everything we buy is gun-related. Which is another way to say "I fully intended to buy this stuff and some guns this summer, but I bought this stuff first and now my CMP Garand looks strangely like a new water pump for my 2000 Jeep Grand Cherokee."

When I first bought my house I got a bunch of art for it because I figured it was time to retire the prints of Sherman tanks to the basement, and things suitable for my college dorm room walls might not exactly say "I'm a grup" on the walls of my first house.

So.

I bought some nice pieces then, and really liked a giant one by Scott Sandell that I put over my couch. Adds a bit of color to the room, and I'm usually pretty drab, so people that know me call it "bold".

I decided this year that I needed something for the bedroom walls, and ended up heading back to the gallery for a couple of smaller pieces by the same guy. So I ended up with these two:

and

They're little 14"x14" jobbies that pair well together, in my layman's opinion.

While I was there I noticed this giant Sandell on mega-sale

and simply had to have it, even though I only have one wall where it could possibly fit - it's almost 6 feet tall with the matte & framing.

All the running around and framing arrangements (sadly, framing gal is still immune to my charms) took a few months, but last week they came home with me, and this morning the two little ones got hung. El Gigantor, or "Wild Gravity" as it's called, will have to wait for tonight or tomorrow.

So now I actually have four pieces by the same artist in my house. I don't know if that shows I'm limited in taste or just plain creepy, but I like 'em.

Things I Only Need 1 Of

Here is a list of things that I only need one of (YMMV):

Sunglasses. Why would you need more than one pair at a time? Do you coordinate them with your shoes? (You effete snob)

Watches. I guess you have two wrists, but you'd look like an ass wearing more than one watch at a time. Why own more than one at a time? (See above parenthetical remark re: Sunglasses, twinkletoes.)

Dress Shoes. I'll stretch this to two pairs. More than two pairs of dress shoes starts to feel excessive. Nobody is looking at your feet, anyway.

Cell phones. This one baffles me. Why does you need two cell phones clipped to your waistband? You are not Batman. You don't need a utility belt. Explore the freedom offered by call forwarding.

Anything else you only need 1 of? Answer in the comments.

Congratulations, Mister Vice President

Well, I have to admit that, on the day that our new Puppet-Master-in-Chief Joe Biden takes back stage, I am posting something that I never in a million years thought I'd do:

A link to an article by...

Dirk Benedict.

Not that I ever thought that the actor who played Starbuck on the old Battlestar Galactica or that Face guy on the A Team was incapable of writing. Or was particularly dull-witted. But, I mean... an actor. But I agree with practically everything he wrote, so you just can't pass something like that up.

There was a time, I know I was there, when men were men, women were women and sometimes a cigar was just a good smoke. But 40 years of feminism have taken their toll. The war against masculinity has been won. Everything has turned into its opposite, so that what was once flirting and smoking is now sexual harassment and criminal. And everyone is more lonely and miserable as a result.

I've written about Star Trek, I've written about Star Wars. I like them. I've not really written about the new Battlestar Galactica because I don't really have anything good to say about it - I think it's a well done soap opera about a bunch of whiney and stupid crybabies. I guess that's why it's such a hit these days. But the above-linked article regarding the slams against masculinity that have occurred just in my lifetime resonates with me.