Two treatments of the same song...

Here's a fun, poppy song with good words. The Sugababes' video is good too- I like the fellow's athletics and choices, and the London scenes.



And here's a slower version. I like comparing covers.



There's a Snow Patrol cover, too. But it's too poor a quality to be able to really hear.

Oh yes, more Emmy Rossum for the h8ers-

Whingeing Crybaby Axe Grinding BBC...

Anger over girls' strip searches...

First, ignorant and lazy BBC, it's the United States. The hospital's name has no apostrophe, we did away with monarchs.

Second, it's not in Harlem, it's in QUEENS. Not even on the same island as Harlem. It took me 30 seconds to find that out, but then I'm not a trained journaliste. If ONLY there were some easily searchable data base accessible to reporters at the BBC. Maybe one day...

So I call Gell-Mann effect on the whole article to start with.

Here is a random visitor to our country who gets pneumonia. In the land of the HEALTH CARE CRISIS, with NO MEDICAL INSURANCE, she is taken in and treated. She'll never pay the bill, our taxpayers will pick that up.

She has two minor daughters. Oddly enough the hospital won't take responsibility for them, and has the AUDACITY to contact the agency that is set up to do exactly that. Or would you prefer this headline?http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif

CHILDREN LEFT TO FEND FOR THEMSELVES IN NEW YORK

Two British girls were left on their own for 30 hours and had to sleep in chairs at a hospital in Harlem after their mother became ill during a holiday in the US.

Gemma Bray, 15, and her 13-year-old sister Katie also were given no food, and no one offered to find them housing.

Their mother Yvonne Bray of Appledore, Devon, says their human rights were infringed by the authorities.

(And, seriously, how much is the hospital bill she won't ever pay?)

UPDATE!

A much more reasonable and detailed article from the Daily Mail. I take it back, Mrs. Bray.

Thanks to PC Bloggs for this tale of HORROR!!!!

Album Cover Meme...

Via Tam, here are the rules. It's creepy AND fun.



Savannah River's latest effort, justrattleyourjewelry, will please fans of their unique Christian oriented Metal/Blues fusion sound. The South Carolina septet is deep in the groove on "Vigorous writing," which showcases members Dave Howard (vocals/harmonica), Ephraim Lowell (drums) and bassist Dima Gorodetsky. The 14 songs here include covers of Link Davis' "Thin love ain't love," the Doc Pomus numbers "It's your move" and "See if they are blind," but the band's rendition of Jessie Mae Robinson's "If your work is all you are" is particularly noteworthy for Chris Vachon's sublime guitar solo. Among the original tunes, Rich Lataille's instrumental title track is a sweet solo playground for sax, trumpet and bass, and Vachon's "Know how to ask" has a sneaky funk feel that adds some spice to the disc. —Philip Van Vleck

(The review body is from some record review site, all the song titles are from the same random quotes page. It's creepy.)

A new girl crush…

Femmedarmes!



Not what one expects to see out in the field, is it? Seems that these are mounted police officers who periodically take their horses out for training in the forest.



And they were dramatically different to our mounted police. Good, fit, well groomed and decently put together horses to start with. Yes, the one on the left has an ugly head- it's worse in the picture than in real life. The officers were sharp in appearance, their tack and turnout well up to horse show standards. B shows anyhow. #$%^&^$ wash bowl helmets, though. Very workmanlike, as was their trailer when I saw it later.



Juuust a coincidence they were in this particular forest this particular day. Like the young Amish neighbours who just happen to drop by when “Lost” is on. As M. L. used to say when circumstances required her to beat a horse, "Just because you have to do it doesn't mean you can't enjoy it."

They were clearly having a great time, and stayed well up throughout. Still, they were policing- very alert, sizing things up, teaching their horses, covering each other, riding to patrol not to goof around. Their commanders would have been proud of them. Hunting IS excellent patrol training, and these heirs of Kellerman (NOT Brigadier Gerard) were taking good advantage of it.

There was a story a while back about some hunt "saboteurs" (hunt annoyers is more like it) who travelled from Kent to France to show some French antis how to do it. I can just imagine these women discovering these bums who had come from a foreign country, armed with axe handles, just to cause trouble and try to ruin the day.

The English trouble tourists might learn first hand about a hickory shampoo.

French hunting, day one...

Finally!



Next day off with the stag hounds. My companions F. and R. rode, the master put me with two local women who were part of the organization, and for once there was some. Big labels to put on cars, flashing lights to warn traffic, it was great to see an attempt to bring some order to the usual car following mess.

The car was a little Honda four wheel drive baby jeep, and she drove it like she stole it. The two women in the back were blanching with fear, but I loved it.

The forest was beautiful, well maintained and shown to advantage on such a pretty day. At one point we were on the grande avenue, supposedly widened by Bonaparte for Maria Louisa because she missed the views of Schoenbrunn. Second wives get all the good stuff.

Didn't get a good picture of it, but these show how hunting in the forest is defined by the allees, rides in the woods. One CAN go in the forest, but it is not easy and few do.








Among the other guests were a group of Dutch cavalry officers! As best I could understand they were reservists, and the unit was sort of a high end semi private organization. Very pleasant people and devoted, they had been coming to visit for years. Also some Americans, from Colorado and Chicago.





Distinguished Engleesh visiteurs...



This girl is a groom for the hunt, prepping staff or master's horses. She was EVERYWHERE, dead on every time, and enjoying herself more than any four other people out there. They are getting their money's worth out of her, and she from them. Adam Smith in action.




The most dramatic guests joined us later, more about them tomorrow.

Good thing there are no travail d'enfant laws on hunt servants...



(He's ten years old.)

Hounds got on to a pig at first, pulled off and went in a different direction. Settled into a stag and ran and ran. Pretty impressive, scent must have been poor but they never quit trying. My pilot clearly was the expert, a couple of times stagboy almost stepped on us when he crossed rides.


(You can just see his legs leaving the ride on the left.)

There was one English hound from the D&S who had a really distinctive voice. He led the group on this stag all through.



It was interesting to see the different hunting styles. These riders were having a good day, and there was lots of excitement and hoo hah. But they were all enjoying themselves, and seemed pretty interested in what was going on. Not that there was no chattering, but when hounds ran, the riders silenced themselves. Everyone paid attention, they were there to HUNT.



Plenty of bicyclists out. Most kept right up, this couple in particular. They put 46 kilometers on their velos, that's twenty eight miles in real distance! Again, the expressions say it all.




They finally bayed him at the edge of the lake right beside the clearing where the Armistice was signed. Note the ice on top, it was brisk but the hounds went right in.








Then back to the kennels for the curee and dinner afterward. F. and R. were well up all day, F. had premiere honneur which was well deserved and appreciated.

One never knows whom one will meet. My left hand partner was a Dutch woman who has the factory which makes the world’s best wooden floors! Interesting that there is a whole business devoted to that sort of thing. Interesting floor tidbit- they do the installation. And when they do, they put in sensors which record things like temperature and humidity. So when a customer demands a replacement of a warped floor, the company can remind them about the flood or fire that they forgot.

Sex at the library...

Today's police report, my comments in parentheses.

Dispatched to city library on call of people having sex on the second floor.

Description black male, black female (that's unusual for these calls- usually it's two men), and child.

(Well duh, how else are they going to learn? And the child's section is on the second floor...)

(snip)

When I patted the male suspect down before placing him in my car I felt a large bulge.

(Related to the original charge? Alas no, 17 $10 bags of marijuana.)

Signed, Officer WOOD.

My Hunting Crime...

I've already confessed


my felony crime on the internets. May as well confess a hunting one, too.

Thursday to the boar hounds, F. unwell so only R. with me. Misty to start with, the rapporteurs appeared first.
And this van later. This was actually a car follower, but there were products available for purchase.
(It actually says BOULAngerie, so don't get excited. It's not as though it were a delivery truck from Louboutin.)

It was a joint meet, half the hounds of the local pack and half from another. Same forest as last time, but cooler and clearer today.


Pretty hunting coats.
Some more than others.

In F.’s Jeep, a blank day until three, then the Sanglier showed up. He crossed a ride, and we had an example of French differences. As the day progresses, the French are always changing hounds. Their feet get tired, or they are cold, or lonely. I can’t explain it. Any how, there are always a bunch of hounds in the truck, which follows the draws. When the game gets moving, they open the doors and set the slackers on. It’s called l’attaque. So off barrel these hounds down the ride- and WHAM!
That one you see on the right there gets knocked for a loop by the horse. I’ll bet he won’t be so eager to get off the truck next time.

So on went the hunt.
Our pilot was good, just the best sort- he knew all the places, and was very willing to sit and wait. We often found ourselves there first, and after the field had come up and dashed onward, still waiting when hounds returned.





We waited at this ride and heard hounds work the boar zig zag zig zag through the wood, until he crossed maybe twenty yards away.
A perfect view, he was very black and ice agey looking.


(No, I didn't take that-
Stephan Lavoye did. But the view was that good.)

So they ran and ran, and our pilot said we must go on. So we did- and imagine my surprise! There we were at Bailly, just like with the stag hounds last year! As big a country as France, and they have to re use the same spot.





If I have to go into the Oise in December AGAIN, I’m getting a ham sandwich out of the deal.

The French hunt several packs in the same country. A single forest might have Buck Hounds Tuesdays, Boar Hounds Thursdays, and Stag Hounds Wednesdays and Saturdays.

Reminds me of the prison joke, which ends “You won’t like Fridays, then.”

The bete had crossed the river three times, and as we arrived hounds were following him.


Back they went north, and I figured that they would run into him between the railway and the canal. But non! We sat quietly , and here he came toward us through a pasture!


Across that, back into the woods, and dusk settled down.

I was there with two whippers-in and a foot follower, to take this end of day picture.




Hounds were still working along through the woods, but away from us. I walked out, into a plowed maize field, and stood beside the fence.

Suddenly across the fence and parallel to it came Monseiur Jambon! He was heading toward me, in the next field and generally toward the main road, crowded with the end of day traffic. Unlikely he’d make it- hounds are faster in the open than the boar, who has the speed advantage in the woods. But it would be ugly if he did, with all those cars and no way for staff to get up and block them. But he was approaching me, I had the camera in my hand, and took a picture.


Automatic flash. I did not know that.

Of course R., steadfast friend that he is, immediately did his best Saint Peter impression.

Porky jinked left, across his field and another, and into the forest back toward the canal and railway . Hounds were close, and they were slowed by the turn. But not much, and into the woods they followed.

From about a furlong or two away, we listened to them crying along, in the long forest parallel to the canal. Then- just as we almost couldn’t see for darkness, he burst out into the open!

NOT, despite my fears, carrying a white cane or being led by a guide dog.

They ran into him and we heard his final squeal as the lead hound got his pork chop. Only rarely do they do it the old fashioned way, but they did this time- very quickly, before staff had arrived he was on his way to the sty in the sky.

Hounds did a good job, and no one cursed me for turning the quarry to his doom.

I don't often recommend communists...

But Inner City Press is a pretty good news assembler, particularly about

United Nations,

bank, and

Federal Reserve malfeasance, nonfeasance, and weaselry.

They keep the "social justice" whingeing on the side, too.

Thank you to the littermate!

I have the most BORING dreams...

Today I dreamed that I went to work, parked the truck, and walked to the office. I met a couple of co workers on the way, and we had a conversation. The geography was a little skewed- I parked by the bridge instead of in the closer lot.

That's it.

Trigger discipline 1910...

Turns out Rule Three is older than we thought. Or is this Col. Cooper's mother?

We catch too many criminals...

I have an idea forming in my head...


A catch and release system is, I submit, even worse than one in which we don't catch. Think about it, there are 50 burglars in town. We arrest one and he goes to prison for five real years. Now there are 49 burglars. Some thinking about it don't start. Some go merrily on. Some are deterred and quit. Let's say only two. So where there were 50 burglars yesterday, there are 47 today.

But here's a secret- no one really knows how many burglars there are, not even the burglars. But everybody knows that every one we catch goes away.

Now, let's catch 20 of those burglars. Ten plead guilty and get suspended sentences. Ten go to trial. Five are acquitted. Four are convicted and get suspended sentences. One is convicted and gets five years. Let's say two decide to quit.

We still have 47 burglars on the job, which is bad.

We've spent a lot more money and trouble, which is worse.

Even worse is a lesson we've taught the burglars and the public, especially the potential burglar. We have taught them that even if caught, a burglar is unlikely to be locked up. We have shown directly that we're only going to lock up 5% of them.

And the worst lesson is that whether one is locked up or not is, in the minds of the public and the burglars, a completely random event! Hell, why NOT break into houses, if one has no internal governor to prevent it.

Sen. Clinton thinks we are idiots...

Spinning her Iowa beatdown, her press secretary says,

"We went from being very, very, very far behind when she started this race... "

I hate to lapse into the vernacular of the internets, but W T F ?????

Not that I'm not laughing at the head-handing she got. Even BHO would be less dangerous than the living cyclone of ambition. But really, she's been a national figure for what, fifteen years? And THE focus of presidential speculation for four. And this is a caucus that is chock full of party workers from the groups- teachers, unions- that she owns.

She was always the front runner, she's been running for two years in Iowa. And now she's the underdog? Sheesh.

Competetive rabbit jumping...

If you make rabbit hopping, there will by itself come a very close tie between the handler and the rabbit.

Click on "Rabbit Hopping" on the left tool bar, then click on the movie of choice. I recommend Ditte's long jump and Black Jack's vertical.

County Government can't get a DATE...

Update at the bottom...

I know I can't. But you'd think that when a COUNTY GOVERNMENT, at tremendous expense, prints a calendar to tout its accomplishments, SOMEONE would actually check that JUNE had the full thirty days.

My predictions- we never find out how much is spent on the calendars, no one is discharged, and thousands of dollars are spent on a reprint.

Because no one else gives away calendars in January. It's not as though people could get them anywhere else, so it's a critical government function to print and distribute calendars. At public expense.

I'm sure the printer was chosen at random, or the
bid was let. Certainly he's not a campaign contributor!

-UPDATE- Neither the electric nor dead tree newspapers covered this destruction of tax funds. The calendars were RECALLED, I wonder how much THAT cost. Not as though they could just be thrown away...

Yes, this is is the official Hamilton County, Tennessee calendar with the June mistake.