We the People v. We, the People

This article from the Wall Street Journal seems to nail the true decision we citizens face in today's political war. It is not so much a religious decision, as it is about whether to make a paradigmatic break from the ideals of our founding fathers. For much of this nation's history, our society has thrived on the notion that men must step up and provide for their own existence and that of their families. That is one reason families, even extended families, were so important. Together, they worked hard and lived or died off the fruits of their labors.

The Great Depression "woke us up", some would say, to the 'reality' that we can ill afford to care for ourselves without strong governmental coordination. That required, in part, the creation of government jobs and welfare programs. Eventually, this evolved into the mandate that government must protect a man from himself. However, despite all this, there still existed some semblance of the American Dream (Work hard in America and you can achieve whatever you truly desire).

Today, we stand at a new edge, where we must decide whether to drop the "work hard" portion of that American Dream. We must decide whether we, the people, individual and diverse citizens, should be permitted to control the destiny of our great country by our individual, private efforts, or whether We The People, mobocratic and of one conglomerate mind, ruled by the elite and controlled by the 'deservists', will control the destiny of our great country, carried on the backs of the ever-diminishing innovators and honest laborers.

You've Come a Long Way, Baby!

If gender stereotyping offends you, you have a new champion in Tyson Slocum, the Director of Public Citizen's Energy Program (why "Public" was even used in the name is beyond me... seems kind of unnecessary, doesn't it?). Anyway, he was on the O'Reilly Factor (Yes, we now have Fox News Channel...We discovered that we had been paying for Starz channels forever and didn't know it. Mrs. The Practicalist found that we could drop the Starz channel and upgrade to whatever package gives us the Fox News Channel, and actually save money!) where he was talking about how sucking 20 BILLION barrels of oil out of Alaska would do nothing to reduce our dependence on foreign oil, during which discussion he said, and I quote (sort of): "blah blah why can't everyone just take the subway blah blah not going to knock us back into the cave-(slight careful pause)-'person' days blah blah blah".

Cave-PERSON?!! Are you kidding me?! Like, who is going to be offended by the term "CaveMAN"? That's like telling "stupid people" jokes. Who is going to come and ask you to please refrain? I'll give you that not only men deliver the mail, so some sensitive fe-uh-person (?), er, wo--person, girl might appreciate being called a mail person... but is she going to raise a fuss because you just made a generalization that only men were backward cave dwellers? What was so funny was that Mr. Tyler didn't even use the term naturally. He actually caught himself preparing to say "Man" and conscientiously selected the term "person".

Person, oh, person! (Note: After writing this post, I searched online and found that, perhaps, this guy might have something. For evidence, click here.)

Who Does This?!

What kind of a person thinks it is appropriate to leave a child tied to a tree for two nights and half a day?

America's New Top...Smurfette?

I was just cruisin' thru the wwweb when I spotted this (highlighted for your convenience):


Out of the millions of searches being done... Smurfs?!!

Well, OK...

I must admit, its been a while, but I really enjoyed them, even though they were subliminal pawns of Communism infiltrating Saturday morning cartoons to indoctrinate young minds to overthrow the establishment in violent revolution and become all equals in the glorious new Order of the All Things Red. I figured I was safe since the Smurfs were blue, and they were all in love with Smurfette (who was pretty sexy, even for a Smurf). I didn't think Communists were allowed to love.

I think the real story turned out to be that the Smurfs were the subliminal pawns of commune hippies, man, like infiltrating "Saturday. Morning. Cartoons." (wink, wink), man, so, like young minds can be, like, be free, y'know, and all individual, like, so they can, like, all grow their hair long and moppy and wear round sunglasses and play folk music on guitars and citars, thus frustrating the whole "establishment", man, thereby stickin' it to "The Man", man, and fight the whole oncoming ice age thing by then getting "jobs" and "careers" and buying SUV's so they can, like, warm the planet and save us all from total extinction and annihilation, man.

Whichever story was true, I guess it worked.

Worst Birthday Gift Idea No. 1 Bar None

Actual Lyrics (I couldn't make this up... I wouldn't dare):

(Spoken, in a very deep, baritone voice)
Hello, Darlin'
Happy Birthday
I've decided not to give you a present this year
In fact I think it's about time I took some things away
(Smack! My cheeks would be seriously red already, but it's Conway Twitty, so let's see what he means by this...)

I'd like to take away this suspicion that I know clouds your world at times
By giving you some faith to hold on to, Honey, whenever your hand is not in mine
(Oh... that's what he means... here comes that open hand again)

(Sing this part to a beautiful, heartfelt refrain)
Happy birthday, Darlin'
I've no presents; no fancy cake
But I hope I'll make you happy with everything I take
(For real?!)

(Spoken, again, in a serious baritone...)
I'd like to take away some of your lonely moments by spendin' more of mine with you
And I'd like to take away some of those so-so kisses ("so-so kisses"?! Did he just say "so-so kisses?!)
And replace them with ones that really say I love you
And I wanna take away the doubt you sometimes have about my love
(yer kiddin'... doubt? you?)
By showin' more, much more, than I've shown lately

(Ok, here's where it really gets good. After telling her that not only did you forget her birthday, but to make up for it...just read on...)
And then if someone should ask you what I've got you for your birthday
Well, you can say, (and I quote) "Why, he didn't give me anything,
But he sure took a lotta things away."
(And there's the gift... You might as well just drive her to the attorney's office yerself, you stoopid little man!)

(Sing it out loud now for the whole world to hear...)
Happy birthday, Darlin'
I've no presents; no fancy cake
But I hope I'll make you happy with everything I take
(Repeat this again, just in case she's still trying to figure out what you're telling her)

(Now, hold those arms out, cock your head down, and give her that sh**-eating grin, and say, as innocently as you possibly can...)
Happy Birthday, Darlin'
(If she gives you a hug at this point, you've got free rein to do whatever you want, buddy. She ain't going anywhere.)

Wanna listen? Click here. Sit back, and just start shaking your head.

Mrs. The Practicalist has a birthday coming up at the end of this month... hmmmmmmm...

Let me know if you've found anything more stupid than this one.

August Rush

My Initial Expectations: Boring chick flick.
Reality: I found myself intrigued from the beginning. Although the story became somewhat predictable as it progressed, the "just how is it gonna happen" kept my attention. That, and the music. Oh, the music. I have always had this fascination for the many genres of music for the same song. This one takes the cake. There is this interesting blend between a rock band and a cellist that can best be explained only by watching the movie. All throughout the flick, the music is captivating, beautiful, and uplifting. I seldom consider soundtracks, but would love to have this one.

Surprisingly, Robin Williams was not overly obnoxious in this one. Keri Russell was perfect for the part, with her somewhat distant, mysterious, oblivious gazes. Freddie Highmore played incredibly convincingly, and Jonathan Rhys Meyers is much more believable than his doppelganger Toby Maguire (Spider Man).

This is definitely a chick flick, but one worth watching. If you're in the mood for action or comedy, this will not do. For an interesting take on the "reunion of lost souls" storyline, or just to appreciate the excellent music, this is certainly one I would recommend you don't miss. Just keep the Kleenex close by.

Practicalist Rating: 4.5 Stripes (out of 5)

Candidate, Order of the Thin Blue Smoke?

Awesome Ribs!!!

After much (tasty) research, I believe I have nearly perfected the art of the rib. At least on the taste side.

I have nearly perfected the rub, adding the perfect combination of sweetness and spice, without distracting from the natural flavor of the meat. For a long time, there has been this very slight bitter after-taste that I thought might have been from the creosote from excessive smoke. While I think that may have been part of it, I also attribute it to a little too much paprika and other spices. This forced me to change up the formula, which I think turned out to be a good thing. I also don't coat the meat quite as heavily.

To fight that bitterness, I also try to use larger pieces of wood. I have decided I don't like wood chips, and only use chunks when I can't secure logs. My theory is that the initial combustion of the wood is where the unwanted creosote comes in. When the smoke is thick and white, it coats the meat, rather than penetrates. The chips are all about the initial combustion. Once the white smoke clears, the wood is pretty much used up. The larger the chunks, the more good flavor I'll get out of it. Once the wood is heated up, the oils and moisture have been extracted, and real flavor just slowly seeps out. The ideal smoke is thin and blue, which comes from the coals, and not the flames. The best batch, so far, was smoked with some old pecan wood (thanks, Glen!).

I have also concocted a liquid to add to the braising process. I am still working on the best combination of ingredients, but it still comes out really good. Once the braising is done, I drain the juices into a sauce pan and condense it down to a glaze, which I then brush onto the meat for the last 30 minutes. This not only adds a delicious sweetness, but it helps with the presentation, as well. It kind of takes away from the blackness, giving the ribs that beautiful red glazed look.

I want to get ready for competition. I think I am nearly there, but want to show some consistency first.

Of course, the best way to become consistent is to just keep right on SAMokin'...

(Anyone wishing to donate hickory or pecan may certainly do so, in one-foot pieces.)