Proof that Louisiana Run by Morons
Example 1
Louisiana Lawmakers want to raise state minimum wage. Every year these boneheads try this, and every year they fail. This year, for some reason, they feel like they have a shot at being successful. A few months ago I wrote here that changing the minimum wage accomplishes jack shit...err...nothing. It forces company to pay more in wages. They gotta get that money from somewhere so they raise prices on their product. The raise in prices means more money comes out of your pocket. So while raising the minimum wage puts more money in SOME people's pockets, it ends up take more out of EVERYONE'S pockets. In the end, its a wash. Raising the minimum wage ain't nothin' but a vote buying scheme. "Vote for me, I'll get your wages raised." Or to paraphrase "Vote for me, I'll use the POWER of government to FORCE your employer to pay you more than they think the job skills required to perform your job are worth." (Note that the article states that many lawmakers are up for reelection in 2007. Curious, that.)

UPDATE: A great article on why we shouldn't raise the minimum wage by George Will.

Example 2
East Baton Rouge Parish (like most of Louisiana) are still subject to those archaic Blue Laws. In EBRP, you are not allowed to buy wine or liquor on Sundays. The problem this year (or next year) is that New Year's Eve falls on a Sunday, so the people in Baton Rouge were FREAKING OUT that they weren't going to be able to buy a bottle of Jack Daniels. (Of course, the simple answer to that is go fucking buy it on Saturday, moron.) But the Baton Rouge Metro Council leapt into action and passed resolution to temporarily suspend this prohibition on Dec. 31. There's a catch, though. Stores and restaurants can only sell liquor and wine between the hours of 8pm and 2am.

Okay, 1) You can buy BEER on Sundays whenever you want. All fucking day. It IS possible for a person to get bombed out of his/her mind on beer. Why the prohibition on wine and liquor? 2) By temporarily suspending the prohibition, aren't we being just a tad hypocritical by enforicing this prohibition every other Sunday? Why is it okay to buy alcohol on THIS Sunday, but not all the other Sundays? 3) 8pm to 2am? WTF? So instead of encouraging people to buy their liquor early in the day so they can get home and get plastered, let's make them wait until 8 at night so they can get plastered and THEN GO HOME! Great idea, morons.

The kicker is, every parish (NOTE: you call 'em "counties," we call 'em parishes) around East Baton Rouge SELLS LIQUOR AND WINE ON SUNDAYS. So if you didn't have the foresight to buy it before Sunday, you can just drive to an outlying parish to buy your Jack Daniels.

Example 3
We have passed the Louisiana Smokefree Air Act that, effective January 1, 2007, will ban smoking on public school campuses, most workplaces, public places, and restaurants. The law was passed because (to quote the bill) "The (Louisiana state) legislature finds and determines that it is in the best interest of the people of this state to protect nonsmokers from involuntary exposure to secondhand smoke..." However, the Act does not place the prohibition on casinos, bars (not restaurant bars, but straight up bars), and tobacco shops. If we have decided that it is in our best interest, shouldn't this "interest" be applied to EVERYONE?

I've said it before, I'm not a smoker but I am opposed to this law, vehemently. It's none of the government's job to regulate how a business owner chooses to operate his/her business. It's not in your best interest to drink a beer or six every day. How about a law against that? You probably shouldn't be looking at free porn over the interent. Shouldn't we curtail this activity as well? "But Heavyarms," you say, "These types of behavior are voluntary and only hurt the individual, no one else." AHA! Well, how about taking your kids to McDonald's and stuffing them full of hamburgers and fries and soft drinks. That isn't in their best interest, maybe there should be a law against that. (Admit it, just about every damn one of you, including me, does this way too much). Or how about buying them a video game console and letting them plop their fat ass down in front of the television for two hours a day. Maybe a law requiring that parents must have their kids undergo an hour of physical activity per day would solve that?

The point is, you don't want government sticking its big fucking nose in your business. The Louisiana Smokefree Air Act (and laws like it) gives government just that much more say in how we run our lives.

You know what is REALLY not in our best interest? Letting every idiot, moron, and retard out there vote in our elections simply because they've reached the age of 18. (Wow, what a qualification!) How about a law against that?

Am I the only one that finds it ironic that John Edwards, a Democrat, chooses a pile of rubble in a city run by Democrats in a state run by Democrats to announce his presidential campaign? A pile of rubble that has sat in that city run by Democrats in a state run by Democrats for over a year?

Let's take a look at some of John Edwards' career accomplishments.
Hmmm, let's see, he was a personal injuary trial attorney. Don't those guys normally have commercials on TV at 3 in the morning? "Before you accept a quick check, check with me." He built his fortune mainly by suing doctors and claiming that their "negligence" caused infants to develop cerebral palsy. He's a successful (read: RICH) trial lawyer. You can interpret that to mean that he'd be the trial lawyer's candidate.

How about his legislative career. Let's look at some of those accomplishments...

*Crickets chirping*

Still looking...

I'll get back to you.

*Title of the South Park episode denouncing "famed" psychic John Edward as "the biggest douche in the universe" for his practice of pretending to be able to talk to the dead. I like the term for John Edwards, too. I also like Rush's nickname for him, "the Breck Girl."

Also, take a moment to say a silent prayer for the crew of Discovery as they end mission STS-116. The crew returns to Earth today. All three North American landing sites, Kennedy Space Center in Florida, Edwards Air Force Base in California, and White Sands Space Harbor in New Mexico, have been activated due to questionable weather at both Kennedy and Edwards. There are seven landing opportunites today, the first scheduled at 3:56 EST. Any pilot will tell you, your flight doesn't end until you chock the wheels. The Space Shuttle has slightly better gliding capabilities than a brick, and I'm sure that approack makes for a wild ride (for evidence, check out the flight angle of the aircraft at the White Sands website, that's their landing trainer.) Good, luck astronauts!

Finally, Merry Christmas to my family, my few friends, and to everyone who has ever wasted their time reading this pitiful blog.

The X-Files: The Complete Eighth Season (I have 1-7 and 9)
Mobile Suit Gundam: the 08th MS Team: Box Set
Mobile Suit Gundam Wing: Complete Collection vol. 1 & 2
Gran Turismo 4 (PS2)
LEGO Star Wars II (PS2)
Mega Man Anniversary Collection (PS2)
Resident Evil 4 (PS2)
Shadow of the Colossus (PS2)
HGUC Hygogg
HGUC Z'Gok/E
MG Master Gundam
MG Zaku I Black Trinity

Hmmm...on second thought.

Today's funny
Heard a couple of guys on the radio today talking about movies that they thought were going to be scary but were not. One of the guys mentioned M. Night Shymalan's Lady in the Water. The other guy said "What's the name of it?" "Lady in the Water," the other replied. Deadpan, the second guy said "I thought that was Mary Kopechne."

HAH!

AT-AT Star Wars - Really, if you were a child of the 80's and don't know what this is...hell, if you were a child of the 80's you know EXACTLY what this is. What Star Wars fan growing up at that time DIDN'T want this toy? I got it. It had room for two pilots, and about 100 stormtroopers in the back. It's chin guns lit up and moved back and forth and went "Winnn nin nin nin nin." It kicked ass.

Cobra Night Raven GI Joe - This, for me, was the ultimate Christmas gift. I was (and still am) an aircraft freak. My brother and I are still in awe of this thing. It is a GI Joe aircraft, and it was about three feet long. It was so big it was difficult to play with. But I did anyway. For many GI Joe fans in the 80's, this was second only to the USS Flagg as the ultimate Joe toy.

Cobra Rattler GI Joe - In keeping with the GI Joe theme, this was actually the first GI Joe vehicle I ever got for Christmas. It was awesome as well. It was based on the real life A-10 "Warthog". I grew up about 10 minutes from England AFB (now closed, thanks Bill Clinton), home of the 23 TFW "Flying Tigers". My brother and I could go out and sit in our backyard and watch the Tigers practice at the Claiborne Gunnery Range, which is still in use by the AFRES guys at Barksdale AFB. At my Granny and Pa Pa's house, we could actually hear the "Gruuuuunt" of their GAU-8's. Thanks to this toy, I could win every GI Joe battle between my brother and I. Nothing could stand up to the Cobra Rattler and it's firepower. The only bad thing I can say about this is that my dad insisted on putting our toys together and putting the decals on them. He broke one of the main landing gears during assembly, so it had to fly with duct tape on one of the wheels.

Nintendo Entertainment System - For much of my life in sixth grade and junior high I had to listen to others talk about how much fun they had playing "Nintendo," bragging about high scores and such. When asked what games I had, I would drop my eyes in shame and reply "I don't have a Nintendo." It's not that my parents didn't love me, it's just that it was very expensive and I would have never dreamed of asking for it. But then when I was in eighth grade, I was at my Grandmother and Grandaddy's house for Christmas. My brother and I (as usual) couldn't sleep the night of Christmas. Finally, around 4 am (as usual) we couldn't stand it anymore and headed out of our room to see what "Santa" had left for us. There it was. I nearly fainted. Santa had even gone so far as to hook it up to a TV and he even borrowed some games from a more fortunate friend of mine. In all, I had about eight games to play. Super Mario Bros./Duck Hunt, Rygar, Contra, one of the Mega Man games, a couple others. We couldn't resist, we turned it on and started playing. It was nirvana, my brother and I, bathed in the bluish light from a television, jaws on the floor. Unfortunately for my family, this gift would fuel in me for years to come a passion for the ritual of sitting indian style on the floor for hours, inches away from the screen, bathed in that same bluish light, oblivious to the outside world. However, this gift came with the caveat "You're going to have to share with your brother." I cannot remember the same stipulation being attached to the Super Nintendo my brother got for Christmas some years later.

Daisy BB gun - Taught me not only how to be responsible with a firearm, but also the mechanics of shooting. I killed my fair share of minnows, cans, paper targets, even a mouse that was running around in our house. I was a deadeye. Yes, my mom told me I would shoot my eye out. Yes, I almost did.

Sony Playstation - I took a hiatus from video games for the last couple of years in high school. After all, it wasn't "cool," unless you were playing Madden with the guys. Maybe I was still bitter over my little brother getting a Super Nintendo and not having to share with me. But after I went to college I found myself bored. I wanted something to do. So I asked for a PSX. The price was just dropped from the astronomical $299 to the simply ridiculous $199.

For you gaming newbies and clueless parents out there, it is ALWAYS a good idea to wait and buy a console AFTER it has had a price drop. These price drops usually occur 2-3 years after the console is introduced. The price drop coincides with a drop in demand for the console, as well as production being streamlined for the console. By waiting you accomplish a couple of things. 1) You save money, obviously. 2)Consoles are usually released as different production models. While the outside appearance remains the same, the "guts" are changed. Early versions usually have a few problems. The earliest production models of the Playstation were plagued with overheating problems. So much so that a third party actually developed a "Cooling Station" that was essentially a platform with a fan that you sat the PSX on. In later models this problem was fixed. The pattern repeated with the Playstation 2. Early models had problems with the laser eye getting out of alignment, causing the system to be unable to read game discs and giving players the infamous "Disc Read Error." I waited until after the price drop on both systems, and have had neither problem crop up. By waiting a few years, you are buying a model that costs less and has most if not all of the "kinks" ironed out.

Star Wars Trilogy (VHS) - Yeah, I bought into that whole "Available for the last time" bullshit. (What was unsaid was ...on video cassette.) My soon-to-be wife got this for me. I begged and pleaded for this for Christmas. It was the ONLY thing I had on my Official Christmas List. I opened present after present from my family. Zilch. I got some lovely socks, some shirts, bunch of other crap that I could care less about. I was bummed. Then my girlfriend came over so we could exchange gifts. It was in a HUGE box. I didn't have a clue, but she and my parents were exchanging knowing glances and winks. I opened it and decided right then and there that I was going to marry this girl. (Okay, not really, but it makes for a good anecdote, don't it?)

In writing this, I realize a few things. One, I have been very fortunate where other children were not. These gifts were relatively lavish. Some kids were lucky to get socks and shoes for Christmas. For that, I will be eternally grateful.

I also realize that I miss my brother. Of all my Christmas memories, the fondest I have are of those years when we were neither too young nor too old to be excited about Christmas morning. We'd go to bed at 10 o'clock, but never actually be able to sleep. We both were restless and would do anything to pass the hours until it was reasonable for us to go out and see what Santa had left. For us, "reasonable" meant no later than 4 am. We'd have GI Joe battles, play Atari (later, NES), anything to make the time go by faster, but it never helped. Even that was only half the struggle. Once we finally decided to go see what we got, we STILL had to wait until about 7am or so (whenever my mom decided to drag her lazy ass out of bed) before we could actually touch anything. So we'd just stare, imagine, and talk about all the cool things we were going to do after mom woke up. Once we finally got to open our stuff, it was usually a full-on battle royale of some kind. Jabber, we all miss you and wish you lived closer.

Finally, it is glaringly obvious that most of these gifts come from my childhood (except for maybe the Playstation and Star Wars movies). The reason for this is not that I have been disatisfied with gifts since then. It's that as a father and a husband, I realize that the TRUE joy in Christmas is giving a gift so someone else and watching THEIR eyes light up. I guess Christmas memories for me now are watching the joy in my son's and my wife's eyes (and hopefully soon, my daughter's as well) as they open THEIR presents.

Did you know?
This beloved Christmas special that has been a part of so many family Christmas traditions for 40+ years was almost not produced? In 1963, a short documentary was made about the Peanuts comic strip, which also included a few minutes of animated Peanuts scenes. The scenes also included music by jazz pianist Vince Guaraldi. No network wanted it. However, in 1965 the documentary's producer, Lee Mendelson, was approched by Coca-Cola and asked if he had ever considered a Peanuts Christmas special. Mendelson lied and said that he had. The next day, he and Peanuts creator Charles Schulz came up with the story. The special's funding came from sponsor Coca-Cola, and they soon presented CBS with the idea.

CBS execs did not like the special from the start. They felt that it was too religious. They didn't like the fact that the special lacked a laugh track, common to children's cartoons at the time. They didn't like the fact that actual children were used to voice the characters, rather than professional voice actors. They didn't like the jazz soundtrack from Guaraldi. They were convinced the final product was going to fail miserably. Wow, TV executives who don't know what is really going to appeal to viewers, who'd a thunk it?

The special premiered on Dec. 9, 1965, and drew half the country's television audience. It won an Emmy for Outstanding Children's Program.

The child voice actors had to learn their lines phoenetically without knowing what they meant. This resulted in the now familiar Peanuts-style choppy delivery of most of the character's lines. The voice actor for Charlie Brown's little sister Sally was too young to read and had to be fed each line during recording.

If you did not see the first three broadcasts (1965, '66, and '67), you probably have not seen the whole special. The Coca-Cola logo (Coke being the sponsor of the special) was featured in several scenes in the original version. In the title sequence where Snoopy spins Charlie Brown and Linus around with Linus' blanket, Linus originally crashed through a Coca-Cola sign. The current version does not show where Linus lands. In the scene where several of the Peanuts gang are trying to knock over cans with snowballs, Linus originally knocks down a Coke can with his blanket. Between 1968 and 1996, this scene was deleted. Subsequent broadcasts were edited to a generic can. The original closing credits featured the text "Merry Christmas from the people in your town who bottle Coca-Cola." These references to Coca-Cola were removed because of objections from later sponsors of the special.

Producer Mendelson, after seeing the finished product, though "My God, we've ruined Peanuts!" Little did he know...

T.O.
By now you've probably all heard that Terrell Owens has been fined for spitting on one of the Dallas Cowboys coaches. I wonder a few things.
1) Why in the hell is Owens still employed by the Cowboys? He's done nothing this year that any other 2nd tier WR couldn't do. Why isn't he on the street. Sure, he might have been a dominant receiver in the past, but he's on his 3rd team in the last 5 years. You'd think if he was so good, teams would be eager to hang on to him. No, teams realize that he's detrimental to the team and would rather not put up with him.

2) What the hell's happened to professional sports? Used to be, you could look up to these guys (football, basketball and baseball players) to act like gentlemen, or at least MEN. Nowadays, most of them act like thugs and punks. If not for their athletic ability, they'd probably be crackheads. Terrell Owens probably is a crack head. He seems like that kind of guy.

3) Why didn't the man who was spit on not break Owens' nose? I certainly would have. To paraphrase my dad, Owens might have whipped my ass but people would have been looking at him and wondering what got hold of him, damn it. When I was a senior in high school this happened to me. My team had just lost a game (in large part due to some very questionable offciating, which we made sure to let them hear about during the game.) We always went out to the middle of the field to shake hands and pray after a game. I was on crutches (my leg was broken in our second game) and was trying to make my way to the middle of the field among a crush of players, coaches, cheerleaders, etc. and bumped into one of the officials. The ref turned around and yelled "What the hell's your problem!" I turned around and apologized and told him that I was just trying to get out on the field to shake hands. The official thought I had bumped him on purpose, I guess, so he spit right in my face. I was shocked. All I could do was wipe the spit off my cheek. I don't know what he was thinking. I was clearly a player (I had my jersey on) and I was clearly injured (the aforementioned crutches.) I went and found my dad and told him and we went and told my head coach. The next Monday coach called the head of the Louisiana High School Athletic Association and complained (I gave my coach a description of the official and his number). LHSAA apparently contacted the official and inquired, he denied it. He called my house to apologize, giving me some BS about how "I don't remember the incident, but if I did it, I'm very sorry." I told him that if he wasn't going to be man enough to admit what he did he could suck my balls. To this day I regret not bending one of my crutches over his fucking skull. I don't plan on regretting anything like that again.

The "fix" mainly involves going back and redoing the old SFX shots of ships, planets, phasers, etc. with new CG ship models, planets, etc. The CG ship models remain true to the original ships, there is no dirt or scarring that we see with the George Lucas "used universe." The planet and SFX shots look signifigantly better.

I didn't know what I thought about this at first. On the one hand, the ONLY thing holding back the original series (TOS), IMO, was the crappy effects and ships. The exterior shots of the ships and planets were always grainy and unconvicing even for a 1960's era science fiction television show (which networks placed just above re-runs in order of importance at the time.) I loved the show until they showed a shot of the Enterprise looking all green and grainy, with parts of the ship washed out by the space background. You'd see that and say "CHEESY!" Star Trek: The Next Generation was a breath of fresh air because it made the Enterprise look real and not look like a plastic model (at the time, we ARE talking late 1980's era CG technology.)

On the other hand, I believe that some things should be left alone. I have repeatedly chastised George Lucas for going back and "fixing" Star Wars. Han having a conversation with Jabba (the same conversation he just had with Greedo, BTW) didn't add anything to Star Wars. Making Mos Eisley seem like a busy spaceport instead of a sleepy little desert ghost town didn't make anything better. Being able to see Stormtroopers actually riding a Dewback didn't make me like Star Wars more. Having a shockwave emanate from an exploding Death Star? What the hell? And, damn it, Han shot that slimy little bounty hunter Greedo first. That's just the kind of guy he was. "Jedi Rocks?" Jesus Christ! As if Return of the Jedi couldn't suck any more. (Not that ROTJ sucks, its just the worst of the six films. It's WAAAAY better than anything in the "romantic comedy" category, or anything starring Adam Sandler.)

But last night, I got to watch Balance of Terror, by far my favorite TOS episode. In this episode, the crew of a Romulan warship (called a Bird-of-Prey in most circles, although it is only mentioned in the episode that the ship was "painted like a large bird of prey") has crossed the Neutral zone between the territories of the United Federation of Planets and the Romulan Star Empire and is destroying several Federation outposts along the border. This episode is our first introduction to the Romulans (my favorite of the Star Trek "villains," mainly because of this episode.) The episode closely mirrors the submarine warfare movie "The Enemy Below" and is just the epitomy of combat between two starships.

The Romulan ship has a new cloaking device that renders the ship invisible to the naked eye and most sensors, as well as a new plasma weapon which allows it to destroy Federation stations in a single shot. The problem is the new weapon requires all of the ships energy to fire, forcing the ship to decloak before firing. The Enterprise crew must decide to either ignore the threat or risk provoking war by attacking the enemy vessel, and maybe even having to cross the Neutral Zone in order to do so (in clear violation of the treaty.) It even involves a sub-plot where Mr. Spock is suspected of treachery because of his close appearance to the Romulans. This may sound ridiculous now, but remember that this was one of the first episodes broadcast and viewers didn't yet have the benefit of 70+ episodes and six films on which to judge Spock's character.

After watching this new episode with the updated graphics and effects I am 100 percent in favor of the revisions. Unlike George Lucas, Gene Roddenberry didn't have a perfect product. (I defy you to find one Star Wars fan that either prefers the Special Ed. changes, or at least feels that they added anything to the finished product.) The new CG models of the ships remain faithful to the original, it just makes it look BETTER. The new model for the Romulan warship was fantastic! There's a scene where the Romulan ship enters the tail of a comet to hide, and the comet was even re-done to look more realstic.

I cannot say enough good things about these changes. Star Trek TOS was, while an excellent series, flawed. It was unloved by its network, and limited by its budget. These changes only fix that flawed product. Star Wars, on the other hand, pioneered special effects. It is the standard bearer against which all other science fiction films are measured (and none have have managed to live up to it, IMO). While it WAS limited by budget, it's creators were not limited in imagination and expertise. On that limited budget they created one of the most memorable movies in history, due in large part to its visual presentation. To go back and "fix" it is an insult to those who worked on the film and an insult to those who fell in love with it.

Yes, I can have it both ways.

You can view a side by side comparison of the original and remastered Balance of Terror here.

A car traveling down the interstate at 60 mph is traveling at a rate of 88 feet per second. Count "one one-thousand" and you just traveled 30 yards. A car traveling at 60 mph will cover the distance of 1/8 mile in 7 and a half seconds. With visibility limited to 1/8 mile (again, this is a generous estimate) you can only see what's 7.5 seconds in front of you.

With that in mind there were still people out there, sharing the road with the rest of us, without their lights on.

If I ran the state of Louisiana, I'd appoint myself "Supreme Dictator for Life" of the Department of Motor Vehicles. The I'd appoint someone else to actually run the state however they'd see fit. You'd have to come do a driving test with ME to be able to get your license. I'd make myself available in each of the major metro areas once a month. Gotta be fair, you know. Can't pass my driving test, you're fucking walking.

Maybe I could be like Michael Valentine Smith from Stranger in a Strange Land and start my own religion, the "Church of Good Driving."

My Governor, Kathleen "Babineaux" Blanco, had an opportunity to dine with her up for bid at a fund-raiser. The bidding started at $1,000. It finally sold for $1 dollar. That's the funniest thing I've heard in a loooong time! You can read about it here and here. here are some good ones, too.
God, I hate that fat cow.

You'll probably hear this on the news sometime today. A man being executed in Florida took 34 minutes to die. As Rush said today, "Wrong, it took him 27 years to die."

Guitar Gods
In honor of all you current and aspiring guitar-wankers out there, hoping to get a sweet pedal or gee-tar under the ol' Christmas Tree, here's my official Guitar God Guide:
God of Riffs: James Hetfield, Metallica
God of Speed: Kirk Hammett, Metallica
Father of the Gods: Tony Iommi, Black Sabbath
God of Licks: Jimmy Page, Led Zeppelin
God of Sound: David Gilmour, Pink Floyd
God of Shredding: Zakk Wylde, Black Label Society, Ozzy
God of Thunder: Cliff Burton, Metallica
Lesser Gods: (i.e., God's you've probably never heard of): Adam Jones, Tool; Jim Martin, ex-Faith No More
God of the Past: Dimebag (I didn't mention it, but last Friday marked two years since Dimebag and three others had their lives cut short by an idiot. A thankfully dead and, hopefully, in hell idiot.)

You may be surprised to learn that some of the things you accept to be true, or at least part of the story, are not true at all.

1) The bible does not say when Mary and Joseph arrived in Bethlehem, nor how they arrived, only that they went there. There is no evidence that Mary was riding a donkey, nor that they were desperate for a room because Mary was going to soon give birth. They may have arrived weeks before she gave birth to Jesus, which would make sense.

2) No room at the inn. The bible does not say that Mary and Joseph were told that there was "no room at the inn" or that they even spoke to an innkeeper.

3) Jesus was born in a barn/stable/cave. Jesus was not necessarily born in any of these. The bible only mentions that He was placed in a manger. The Greek word in the used in the scripture is kataluma, which can mean guest chamber or place of lodging. The only other time this word is used in the New Testament, it refers to an "upper room" in a person's home. Some people believe that Jesus was probably born at in a relative's home, and that he was placed in a manger because there was no room for him in the normal living quarters. It was not unusal to find mangers in people's homes as at the time smaller animals were usually kept inside to protect them from the elements. Remember that Ceaser declared that "the whole world should be taxed" and that each person should return to the city of their birth. Space at inns was probably limited and most people were having to stay with relatives.

4) Three Kings. The bible does not mention the number of wise men/magi that visited Jesus, it only mentions the plural, indicating there were at least two. The number "three" is usually derived from the fact that they presented Jesus with three gifts; gold, frankincense and myrrh.

Just what is frankincense and myrrh?
Frankincense is a tree resin that was usually burnt at meat-offerings and also an ingredient in sanctuary perfumes. As a result, frankincense became associated with Godly or divine things.
Myrrh is a kind of sap that was also used in perfumes. It was also used in the embalming process, and was associated with the dead.

Sounds pretty crappy, huh? Great gift of gold, and then a bunch of incense? Well, in actuality, myrrh was typically worth more than its weight in gold. Frankincense was a fairly lavish gift at the time, too.

I used to have a dog, Black Lab, named Sandman. I called him "Sandy." Well, he was actually part Lab and part Chow. The only part of the Chow you could see in him, though, was his purple tongue. Everything about him was black. Black eyes, black tongue, even his gums were black. He was one of the sweetest animals I have ever known. He even got the hang of fetching a tennis ball without any training. I just chucked a ball one day, and he went and got it. He would play fetch until he dropped.

One day, my wife came home and called me demanding to know why there was a puppy on our back porch. I told her I didn't have a clue. She told me that when she got home, there was a cardboard box on the carport. Turns out, someone abandoned a puppy that looked like she was about 4 weeks old. Well, by the time I got home my son (2 or 3 at the time) was in love and they had already named her Tater Tot (she was in a box that Sonic packs frozen Tater Tots in to ship to their drive-ins.) What the hell, I thought. We've got almost an acre, and the back yard is fenced in, maybe we could do with another dog. Unfortunately, Tater Tot was an escape artist. I built a little run for her, the fence was about 4 foot off the ground. By the time she was old enough to get up on her hind legs and put her paws on top of the fence, she was getting out, never to stray too far from the yard. I put her in the backyard, hoping the larger area would be sufficient to keep her from wanting to wander. It wasn't. She found every hole and gap in the fence. (When we moved to the house, the back yard was fenced on two sides. We fenced in the other two sides. One side was adjacent to a field for cattle, and the other was the oldest part, with trees growing right along the fence line.) These gaps were also big enough for Sandy to get through, (which is also a testament to how good he was. He was never fixed, but he never got the urge to wander. He was perfectly happy in the yard.) So when Tater Tot got out, Sandy was usually right behind her.

We left during a long weekend to go home and visit family for Christmas. Tater Tot's little escapes were getting old, so I told myself that I was going to fix the fence as soon as we got back. We came back on a Sunday afternoon. I wanted to buy some boots for work, so we made a little detour to the mall, delaying our getting home by a couple of hours. We finally got home right after dark to find a pick-up truck in our driveway, unoccupied, lights on, doors open, engine running. My first thought was that we were being buglarized, so I pulled in right behind the truck to keep it from being able to get away (which, in hindsight, wasn't that smart.) As soon as I put the van in park, two men emerged from behind the house. I jumped out of the van and demanded "Can I help you?" (Southerners, for some reason, are polite even when confronted by potential criminals.) One of them, a short, fat, toad-like little man, replied, "We've got a problem. Do you own a black dog?"

I realize that Sandy is not barking his head off at these two intruders (which was another great thing about him, he had a great bark. The kind that would make people walking past the house pick up the pace.) Frantically, I start look in the back yard, and he's not at the fence where he usually is when we got home from a trip. "Shit, he got out and they've run over my fucking dog," I think. Both dogs are missing. I swallow hard, "Yes sir, I have a black LAB." I emphasize the word in case he's talking about another black dog. The other man replies, "Well, we live in the trailer park over yonder." (there's a trailer park on the land next to our subdivision.) Your dog bit my child on the hand. He was playing over by dumpsters (in the trailer park) and tried to pet your dog and he bit him. We had to take him to the hospital." "Jesus Christ!" I think. "My dog got out and injured some poor little boy. MY DOG HURT SOMEONE!"

I swallow hard again. "Is he okay." "Yeah, we had to take him to the hospital. They got the bite cleaned up and had to put in a couple of stitches. The doctor just wanted to us to find out if your dog was up to date on his vaccinations." "I think so. I take him once a year to get his check up-and shots. Let me go inside and get his papers." I can't think. Someone's child has been traumatized because of my dog, through my negligence. "No, no. That's okay. Look, the doctor gave me his card and wanted the dog's owner to call him so he could ask some questions." "Absolutely. I will do it first thing. Let me get your number and I will call you and tell you what he needed to know." By this time, my wife has gotten out of the van with our son, listening to the conversation. "Well I appreciate it. Look, I'm sorry to tell you this, but they shot your dog."

"WHAT??! WHY?!" (Was he rabid? Was he foaming at the mouth? Was he attacking people? That's what I was thinking.) "Did you kill him?" This is all I could think to ask. Here's where the little toad-man piped in. "No, but when we find him, we're going to kill him."

"Excuse me?" Using lethal force to protect yourself is okay, but I'll be damned if you're going to hunt down my dog. This is when I looked in their truck and saw a shotgun on the front seat. "You are NOT going to kill my dog. What you ARE going to do is get back in your truck and get off my property. I'm going to call the Sheriff." To the child's dad, "I will call you as soon as I talk to the doctor." I got my wife and child inside and grabbed a flashlight and headed back out. That's when I noticed the blood, a trail of it going along the carport and going up the drive way about 20 yards. I follow this trail and come to a pool of it. The blood is bright red with bubbles, a sign that he has been hit in the lungs. The trail then goes off in the grass. The way I figure it, he was shot and ran back home. He couldn't get back in the yard, so he laid down in the middle of the driveway. When the two men drove up in their truck, he headed off and we drove up on them right after they got there.

I follow the blood in the grass and see that it goes back to one corner of our yard. Then I see his eyes. The reflection of my flashlight in them, at least. Two green circles in the dark. I move cautiously forward, still thinking he may be rabid, and I come upon him. He's lying on the ground, head up, panting heavily. I'm there for only a few seconds when I guess his strength finally gives out and his head falls down to the ground with a thud. I move forward a little bit more and see that he's still breathing, but he's lost so much blood that he doesn't have the strength to hold his head up. I want to go over to him, to scratch him behind the ears or pat him on his chest like I always do and tell him that he'd be okay but I force this thought from my mind as irrational. He's a dog after all, and doesn't understand pain and death and alone. "He's in pain and I've got to help him get out of it."

Here's the part of the story that I question every year around this time when I think about it all. It's after 6 on a Sunday night. There are no vets open. The only one I can find willing to see him (after charging me an exorbitant "after hours" fee) is a 30 minute drive away, and he will not make it that far. So I do the only thing I can think to do to stop him from hurting. I do what men like me have to do when their dogs get too old, or sick, or hurt to live a happy life. The time goes by slowly. I don't tell my wife I'm going to do it, because I know she'll talk me out of it. No, I've steeled my resolve, and it's the only humane choice I have. I remember every step I took. It was cold, the ground was slightly frosty. I can see my breath against the moonlight. When I get back to where he is, I'm hoping to see him holding his head up again.

He isn't. He hasn't moved. His breathing is shallow, infrequent. "Get it over with." "No, don't, there's still time." I debate this for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, I decide "He's your dog. He's your friend. He's your responsibility. Do what you know is right. Don't worry about the way you're going to feel. Stop his pain." So I do. It is immediate, but his body let's out a godawful howl as the air escapes from his lungs. I heard that howl every night for months. I walk back to the carport to get at tarp and my son's wagon. I want to take him to get examined for rabies the next day. I distinctly remember thinking "Thank God it's cold outside." I was glad I wouldn't have to deal with all the things normally associated with dead bodies and warm weather.

I walk in and tell my wife that I found him and that I had to put him "to sleep." What a pathetic euphemism. Then I fall to my knees and cry, bury my head in my hands and cry.

The next morning I call the vet and ask how much it would be to have his body tested for rabies. They give me one price, which I can't afford. I ask what I could do, they said "Well that's the cost including the cost of body disposal." "I'll bury him, then." "If you want you could bring us just the head, it would only be about 30 dollars then." I stick with just the burial and let the vet handle the rest. I drop Sandy's body off on the way to work, pick it up on the way home. I bury him in at night, by the light of a propane lamp in small plot back behind my pond. I planned on planting a willow there, but I still haven't gotten around to doing that.

The aftermath of this is we find out that the toad-man was the owner of the trailer park. He has a reputation for trying to kill any stray dogs that come into his park. He's too chicken to do it himself. We live out of city limits and there are no leash laws. You can let your dog have run of the neighborhood. Ironically, we spent over $1500 to build a fence to keep Sandy from getting out and getting hurt. We also learn that the child that was bitten was a veritable juvenile delinquent. When we tell people we know from the neighborhood school, to a person they all tell us "He was probably trying to pull the dog's ear or tail, or throwing things at it."

We got a call from our local animal shelter a couple of weeks later telling us that they had Tater Tot. God, she smelled! She was found about 20 miles from our home. She would have had to have crossed an Interstate to get where she was found. We suspect the kids were playing with Sandy, and he didn't want to be played with (Didn't your parents tell you to NEVER pet strange dogs?) I personally think the kids were messing with Tater Tot and Sandy came to her rescue. Someone from the trailer park took Tater Tot and dumped her. I walked back by the trailer park the next morning and found the trail of blood. Followed it all the way from the dumpsters to the house. In all, he ran about 300 yard, 75 or so in a direction away from the house indicating he was being chased. Found his collar, too. It had fallen off, it's buckle damaged by what looked like buckshot.

I know this wasn't very Merry, but it's something that is on my mind every year around this time.

Well, let's not argue that maybe the shepherds were doing things out of the norm, and maybe the God that can part the Red Sea can make a star appear out of nowhere, and maybe Christmas has more in common with Hanukkah (sp?) than a pagan holiday (just like Christianity was born out of Judaism). The real question is, does it really matter what the actual date of Christ's birth is? We don't celebrate Martin Luther King's birthday on his actual date of birth. We don't celebrate Washington's birthday on his birthday (Presidents Day, which actually WAS held on Washington's birthday, Feb. 22, until 1971.) We don't necessarily have to celebrate Jesus' birthday on the correct day, either. I know, there are those of you who don't believe Jesus ever existed. But most people agree that, whether He was divine or not, he certainly was REAL.

Christmas is not just a time for families to get together, and eat and exchange presents. It is a time to celebrate the birth of a man who, regardless of his origin, has affected the world in a way not many others have been able to duplicate.

Christmas Special Airings

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer will be on CBS tonight at 7pm CST.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (Jim Carrey movie) will air on ABC Saturday at 8pm CST. (Which I only mention because...)

How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (The superior, animated Chuck Jones special) will air on ABC next Tuesday (Dec. 12) at 7pm CST.

Does anyone know if the Charlie Brown Christmas special comes on again? I missed it the last time and, IMO, it is the best of the traditional Christmas specials.

Dec. 7, 1941
Today is the 65th anniversary of the Japanese sneak attack on US Navy, Marine, and Army Air Corps in and around Pearl Harbor, Hawaii.

12: Who is Santa Claus?
Kids, all you need to know is that Santa Claus is going to bring you presents on Christmas...IF YOU'VE BEEN GOOD! That's it. Stop reading. Go be good somewhere.

Our version of Santa Claus is actually an amalgamation of several different mystical figures from other countries. Mainly, he is based on the figure of Saint Nicholas, who was a bishop in area located in what is now Turkey. St. Nicholas used his whole inheritance to support the needy, poor, and sick. His charity literally became the stuff of legend, and formed the basis for the folktale of Sinterklaas.

Sinterklaas is celebrated mainly in the Netherlands, Germany, and Belgium. According to the legend, Sinterklaas died on Dec. 6, so he is celebrated on Dec. 5 every year. Sinterklaas is traditionally portrayed wearing the red and white robes of a bishop. The Dutch put out their little wooden shoes with a carrot or hay for Sinterklaas' horses, and the next morning they awake to find a little present left for them by Sinterklaas and his impish little helpers, the Zwarte Pieten (Black Petes). This was taken from early pagan rituals in Germany and the surrounding areas when people would leave out food for the flying horse of the god Odin, who led a great hunting party every year at Yule with his fellow gods. After the area's conversion to Christianity, this practice was applied to Sinterklaas and his horse.

According to legend, the Black Petes are little devils who are enslaved to Sinterklaas (Sinterklaas is the good guy who has triumphed over evil.) Zwarte Pieten leave treats for the children who have been good, and will stuff the bad children in their little dufflebags and whisk them away. Later they would be flogged with the whips the Zwarte Pieten carry. St. Nicholas reputedly served in areas heavily populated by Moors. Moors, considered heathen by Christians at the time, may be the basis for the mythical Zwarte Pieten. In some myths, there was a demon who roamed the countryside, and went into homes at night via the chimney to slaughter sleeping children by disemboweling them, or stuffing them in a sack to eat later. The demon is eventually confronted by St. Nick and forced to reform and become his servant. What fun, huh?

There are roughly 1.9 billion children in the world under the age of 15 (let's assume that high-school aged kids no longer get presents from Santa). The world is roughly 33% Christian. Let's say that percentage also applies to children, and that only Christian children get visits from Santa. This gives us an estimate of 627 million children. At an average of 3.5 children per household, Santa has about 179.2 million homes to visit on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning.

Taking into account the world's different time zones and the Earth's rotation, and if Santa's direction of travel is east to west, he can stretch out the day into about 34 hours. This means Santa visits 5,272,000 homes per hour or 1,500 homes per second! Santa has less than 1/1000 of a second to travel to your home, drop down your chimney, drop off your presents, eat his cookies, and jet back up. This is not taking into account the travel time between each home.

Now let's work out the logistics. Let's say, on average, those 627 million children get 5 pounds of presents each. Santa must lug around over 3 billion pounds, or 1.5 million tons of presents. This does not count the weight of his sleigh, or Santa himself. By comparison, the world's largest ship, the Knock Nevis, "only" weighs about 700,000 tons fully loaded.

Flight not taken into consideration, the average reindeer can only pull about 300 pounds. Santa would need 10,455,225 real world reindeer just to pull his sleigh on the ground. But Santa's reindeer are super-huma...err...reindeer. He's only got 9. Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner/Donder/Dunder, Blitzen/Blixem, and Rudolph each must pull 348.5 million tons. Two of them could easily handle a fully loaded Knock Nevis.

Now lets talk about speed. I don't want to sit there and calculate how fast he has to go to travel house to house and around the planet. I have seen estimates around Mach 3000 (THREE THOUSAND TIMES THE SPEED OF SOUND), which would work out to about 600 miles per second. In comparison, the fastest man-made object in history, the Helios 2 space probe, crawls along at an almost sluggish 42 miles per second.

More fun
Assuming the distance from the top of your chimney to your fireplace is 15 feet, and that Santa would have to spend the majority of his time putting out your presents, Santa has to drop down the chimney at close to the speed of light. Putting aside the fact that Santa obviously needs some sort of propulsion system to attain that speed (gravity won't do it), anyone care to calculate what kind of force is generated when 300 pounds (Santa plus presents, rough estimate) hits the earth at the speed of light? Santa's boots are obviously some sort of high-tech impact absorption system.

If Santa DID drop down your chimney faster than the speed of light, could you theoretically see two Santas at the same time (one traveling down the chimney and one at the bottom)?

Santa's sleigh is alwasy portrayed as a traditional sleigh with the presents bulging out of the back, not very streamlined. Imagine the air resistance and heat build up on such an irregularly shaped object. The SR-71 Blackbird, which cruised at Mach 3.something was as aerodynamic as the sharp edge of a knife. The plane was designed to allow for expansion caused by heat build up on the aircraft. It leaked fuel on the ground and had to refuel after take-off. Once the aircraft began cruising, the aircraft body would expand due to the heat build up and seal off the leaks. Santa's sleigh must be a marvel of engineering since it doesn't vaporize itself during cruise. The windshield on the SR-71 got so hot that it's pilots would just place their in flight meals against the window and heat it up. How hot do you think Rudolph's nose get? Maybe that's why his nose is red...

When you are driving in your car and you mat the gas pedal, you are pushed back in your seat by the car's acceleration (actually, your car's seat is pushing against you). You feel this "push" anytime your speeds up. The faster your rate of acceleration, the more "push" you feel. What kind of push must Santa feel while accelerating to Mach 3000 in under a second? What about when he decelerates?

Well, that was fun for me. You're probably bored out of your skull. I think that when Santa isn't working on Christmas, he ought to come down to NASA and teach them how to build things.

Christ. I was even in a good mood. Hung up the Christmas lights this weekend, listened to my A Charlie Brown Christmas CD (There are two albums that ought to be in every American family's Christmas collection, this one and this one.) Now I'm grumpy again.

Santa is a religious figure
So says some "concerned parent" (read "busybody who doesn't want ANYONE to have any fun) in New York. A school has been having an annual fund-raising "Breakfast with Santa," but this busybody charged that the school's PTA was "sponsoring one religion over another" and "didn't want any one left out." Because of Santa. The religious figure of Santa. I am sick and fucking tired of all of this. What's next, Rudolph? After all, he pulls Santa's sleigh as he and his disciple reindeer fly around the world proselytizing. You know how Christians like to pray at the alter Frosty the Snowman and offer him sacrificial ice cubes.

Why is Christmas constantly under attack year after year? Why is there always some asshole trying to ruin the fun for the rest of us? If you don't celebrate Christmas, don't fucking celebrate Christmas. Don't force the rest of us to observe the "Winter Holiday" and have "Winter Wonderland Breakfasts" and "Holiday sales events" because you're too much of a baby to keep your feelings from getting hurt if you get left out. Go celebrate whatever you want to celebrate, I don't care. Don't celebrate ANYTHING, I still don't care. I won't force you to change your ways. I'M not going to be offended. Do whatever you want, just don't try to ruin everyone else's fun.

Don't fucking tell me "Happy Holidays."

Six Imams and One DJ
I'm sure you've all heard about the six imams that got kicked off the plane in Minnesota. How did you feel about that? CAIR apparently feels that the six guys were singled out simply because they were Muslim (I certainly don't have a problem with that.) Turns out, that isn't the whole story. Wonder why Katie Couric or Tom Brokaw hasn't mentioned the rest of the story?

OKAY,I feel better now. (WARNING!!!! VIDEO DOWNLOAD!)
Not the part with Rachel Ray, wait about 15 seconds.
BEST...CHRISTMAS MOVIE...EVER

SITH HAPPENS