Category: Words

Would you like to see my new hat?

Via Slate:

The New York Times called this answer “artful.” That’s not the word I’d use. Artful should be reserved for things that hide the truth but don’t deceive. A hat is artful. A toupee is a lie. Bush’s answer was toupee-like. Even if it was technically true that Bush had not talked to Snow about “resignation,” the president knew his confected statement was deceptive. I’m reluctant to call it a lie, but the president abused our trust.

Clever language, except where he kind of waffles on it. Go ahead, point out that the president has no hair. Do it.

And while we’re at it, I want a pony and an impeachment.

Stats, or, who the hell still reads this thing?

Well, traffic is down this month. Stats suggest that people want to find things about cute monkeys and also this particular white English Bull Terrier puppy.

I’d hoped that people would read this site for my pithy commentary on the nature of marketing and advertising or something.

Hint: want cuteness? Go to Cute Overload. They have all the cuteness you could possibly desire. The captions are annoying and twee, but the photos are really incredible.

Pleasing Nobody

Bush’s immigration speech seems to have pleased nobody. The right thinks it’s not tough enough, and the left thinks it’s a militarization of the border. Even Hindrocket of Pajamas Media doesn’t like it.

But honestly, it’s perhaps the sole reasonable thing he’s said in about forever. It isn’t actually feasible to deport every illegal immigrant. We’re going to have to face up to people wanting to come to the US, and we’re going to need some kind of legal program to bring them into the fold, and give them a path to citizenship. To stop people from being exploited and to stop wages from being depressed, we need to punish companies who hire undocumented workers. And yeah, we should probably put some more enforcement staff on the border– although the national guard is almost certainly terrible idea.

Anyway, it’s a harsh welcome to reality for Dubya: he’s squandered all his goodwill, and now, no matter what he does, nobody is going to trust or believe him.

I have rarely been so happy to say I told you so.

Excellent turns of phrase

The NYT today reviews some new travel-and-food books, providing any number of fun little sentences, some from the books themselves and some presumably from the reviewer.

A book about competitive eating describes a competitor as “a cross between Anna Kournikova, Billie Jean King and a jackal wild on the Serengeti.” Two art-school graduates who search for down-home cooking throughout the US are described as “people who make a point of stopping at prisons to shop at the gift stores.” A tale of a man cooking a giant feast from a 19th century cookbook is “not quite ‘Babette’s Feast,’ but then Babette did not have to stuff half a duck into an antelope bladder.”

I love it when reviewers and pundits write like that. It makes for vastly entertaining reading. Unfortunately, it all too often passes for news. But that’s another story altogether.

Everybody loves a parade of wolves

I can’t stop listening to Wolf Parade. Specifically the one that goes:

I’ll build a house inside of you
I’ll go in through the mouth
I’ll draw three figures on your heart
One of them will be me as a boy and one of them will be me,
and one of them will be me watching you run
watching you run into the high noon sun
watching you run farther than guns will go
You are a runner with a stolen voice
You are a runner and I am my father’s son.

I think the song is about the decision to honorably stay abd face one’s fate, or flee it.