The NSA Will Stop Collecting Your Phone Metadata Tonight!
Thanks to Edward Snowden, a once-secret and always useless government surveillance programs draws to an end.
At midnight tonight, the National Security Agency (NSA) must stop its bulk collection of essentially all phone calls made in the United States.
The conclusion of the vast surveillance system comes as the result of the USA Freedom Act, which Congress passed back in June. At the time, the NSA was allotted 18o days to end its controversial practices and find new ways to keep Americans safe (that hopefully don't include spying on ordinary citizens). Now, the government agency is out of time, and the White House says that it has a less invasive process ready to replace the old program.
Though it's been two years since Snowden first brought the surveillance to public attention, the end of the program marks a considerable victory for privacy watchdog groups, who have long lambasted the government for what some considered an abuse of power. Now, should a certain phone number be deemed suspicious by government officials, they must make a specific request to the appropriate telephone company in order to retrieve the data. No longer will the NSA have its own records of this sort of information.
So you can relax maybe a little bit. The government now must actually suspect you of something before collecting information on you. One thing you don't have to worry about is that American intelligence will in any way be compromised by having to follow new procedures. Earlier this year, the conservative Washington Times summarized a Justice Department study on the prgroram, which had been justified under Section 215 of the original Patriot Act:
[The] report adds ammunition to…opponents [of bulk collection of phone records], with the inspector general concluding that no major cases have been broken by use of the Patriot Act's records-snooping provisions.
"The agents we interviewed did not identify any major case developments that resulted from use of the records obtained in response to Section 215 orders," the inspector general concluded.
So whaddya know? This Thanksgiving weekend really did present something for which to be grateful.
As Scott Shackford noted here when it passed in June, The USA Freedom Act isn't exactly the bee's knees when it comes to scaling back the surveillance state, but it represented a real if modest reduction in the government's ability to do whatever it wanted without serious review. Read about it here.
About a month ago, Reason TV talked with Edward Snowden's lawyer, Jesselyn Radack of ExposeFacts.org. Among the key takeaways: Characters such as Hillary Clinton, Dianne Feinstein, and Mitch McConnell, who both wanted to keep the bulk collection program intact and who have vilified Snowden for bringing his information to government officials, Radack stresses there are basically NO proper channels:
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At midnight tonight, the National Security Agency (NSA) must stop its bulk collection of essentially all phone calls made in the United States.
HAHAHAHA! That's a good one. Tell us another!
The article is referring to the official approved by congress version of the deal. Not the 'we aren't being held accountable by anyone so we're going to keep on anyway, because FYTW' version.
Way to ruin it.
Exactly. I can't believe anyone would think that this program is just going away. But I'm sure the NSA budget will decrease to correspond with the reduction in data collection efforts.
Bwahahahah... I couldn't get that last part out without laughing.
Nick has great trust in government authorities.
yeah right, the budget of anything government actually decreasing!
That's okay. The technology has already been exported.
At 12:01 tonight, the National Security Agency (NSA) will start its bulk collection assemblage of essentially all phone calls made in the United States.
There's a big difference
So how many hours after midnight does the emergency session and near unanimous vote to refund this begin?
I can just imagine the wailing and gnashing of teeth that must be happening right now on Fox News.
But O'Reiley says the "folks" want their emails read. Therefore the program must be good because obviously your average person is almost as smart as a doorstop and only slightly less ethical.
Whatever O'Reilly agrees with, I disagree with it automagically.
Picking O'Reiley to be wrong is a bit like picking the New England Patriots to beat the Peoria High School Junior Varsity Girls Volleyball team in a game of football.
He's just a shit-eating dog. Who cares what he says?
He's old, he'll die soon, and his asshole ideas will die with him. The sooner the better.
Has it been officially decreed yet that Snowden happened because global warming?
Silly Hyper
That can't happen because in spite of Obama having him and a few other journalists on his drone list, some on the left like Snowden
The latest PP shooter happened because of CC.
WTF?
Why do I keep seeing this?
Did you check the fine print in your Faustian pact?
I'm gonna claim ignorance here. It's hard to check something when you don't know what it is.
I'm just being silly.
At midnight tonight, the National Security Agency (NSA) must stop its bulk collection of essentially all phone calls made in the United States.
"Must" does not mean the same thing to the NSA that it means to you, or to any normal person.
a Justice Department study on the prgroram
Its OK Nick, you don't have to keep encrypting your text...
And the telephone company gets to say "No", right?
Sure, just like you get to walk away from an encounter with the police so long as you're not officially being detained.
Of course, as with the police, we're going to see a lot of *totally voluntary* consents to be searched.
I mean, even people with incriminating evidence in their possession will knowingly and willingly allow the cops to conduct searches which turn up that incriminating evidence.
/sarc, by the way.
So was my question.
You should watch Cops.
People will have a crack rock the size of a fist in their center console and give the police consent to search. I think they ate lead paint as a child.
"Am I being detained or am I free to go?"
"No you're not being detained, but first..."
"So, am free to go?"
"Um, yeah. But first..."
"So I'm not free to go."
"Of course you are, but first..."
"OK, then. If I am free to go, then I am going to slowly turn around and..."
"DROP THE GUN!"
*BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM....*
...and nothing else happened.
Except he was acquitted by the grand jury or declined prosecution by the police/DA team.
The number is "ALL-OF-THEM."
But Snowden is a traitor and Nick is a crypto-socialist Hillary operative who wants to flood America with jihadist welfare queens.
Only a Holy War can save us. Take the kid gloves off, and cleanse the Earth with fire.
Well, of course metadata from the program isn't useful until investigators and prosecutors have a chance to develop the parallel construction that makes it useful. DUH.
Seriously though, I'm a little piqued that the question central to apologists is whether it produces useful intelligence, not whether it's constitutionally sound or in keeping with the spirit of a democratic republic. We see a casual disregard for the Constitution from the left on an array of issues, to the point it's expected that a progressive will roll her eyes and sigh at the notion that maybe some constraints should be left on what feds are allowed to do in their infinite wisdom. But somehow, for conservatives, constitutional safeguards are equally passe when it comes to defense and intelligence. Well, piss off about efficacy, it's a question of political philosophy.
I already feel less safe. Thanks a lot, Snowden!
Don't let some moldy old scrap of paper with funny scrawls on it keep America from achieving greatness.
Let the pitiless slaughter of the barbarians commence.
Mecca. Glass parking lot.
WHO WOULD EVEN WANT A PARKING LOT MADE OF GLASS?
Solar Roadways enthusiasts?
Driving on top of a giant mirror would be cool.
OT: So MLS (that's soccer) instituted "added" security just in time for tonight's conference finals. The western conference final is almost at half time and... the commentators just noted that there are still hundreds of people outside waiting to get in.
MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!
We call this "creating a soft target."
Yes, yes. The bulk collection of metadata of Americans by the NSA will stop tonight.
But not the bulk collection of metadata of non-Americans.
And I'm pretty sure GCHQ and DGSE will still continue to collect metadata of American communications.
And there's no provision to prevent these agencies from swapping intel, or even from assisting each other in collecting it.
Until and unless the American government (and the American people) recognize that things like a 4th amendment protection from search and seizure are *human* rights and not *American* rights - this will continue and expand.
England and American spy agencies have long watched over each other's domestic problems for their cousins..
Nothing new here.
Does somebody want to test this theory by submitting some keywords?
Mexican pork cloud
Nude photos of the co-chair of the White House Task Force to Protect Students from Sexual Assault, and chairwoman of the White House Council on Women and Girls, Valerie Jarrett.
Soon to deposed by Old Man with Candy.
Mexican pot ass-sex.
WOODCHIPPER WOODCHIPPER WOODCHIPPER
I'll test their sarcasm detector:
"Obama and Clapper are totally awesome and honest and respect everyone's privacy!"
"And their personal hygiene is absolutely above reproach!"
Well so far nothing has hap....
al-Raqqah oneway airfare best deals
Underage vagina.
Planned Parenthood Google Street View
Cyber monday pressure cooker deals
Dabiq Magazine subscription discount
Obama tours Dealy Plaza.
Blackbriar
Setec Astronomy
Hmmm. May need to watch that again. I wonder how well it held up over the years.
"No more secrets."
Too many secrets, yes?
Oh yes, but the black box was the code breaker! I like that movie a lot. When Redford tones down the political stuff it works.
Agreed. Unfortunately Redford has been taking himself too seriously for nigh on four decades now.
Ayn Rand
Reinforced cockpit door blueprints
using Game on flight attendants for Caliphate ends
Cropduster training for Muslums
Fart jokes are lame.
Falafel Flatulence is Funny, Friend!
Merry Christmas.
How to own a gun?
Obama is a radical Islamist, we should forceably convert him to Pastafarianism.
colanders, ether, White House Tour
Everyone talk like a terrorist all the time
http://www.funnyordie.com/vide.....nouncement
I always tell my 84-year-old mother to stop this.
"Obama heroically ended the Bush-era NSA phone metadata program!"
- Obama bootlickers
You really have your finger on the pulse of my more outwardly moronic Facebook friends.
That's not where his finger is.
Ewwww!
/Teenage girl
I'm betting the whole metadata thing not producing anything anyways. They can can more targeted data just by asking the carriers, isp's and search engines anyways. They're up to a hell of a lot more insidious shit than that I'm sure.
No shit. This is just "we need some room to operate, so get them off our backs."
They are only able to comb through a fraction of a percent of what they collect. Most is just saved for later.
Imagine the people who gravitate to that job.
I try not to.
Something about not cumming in a sqlrs mouth...
I withhold my essence.
Sounds like a zero cum game.
Speaking of do we have an over/under on an Agile Cyborg appearance tonight? I feel some deviance in the air.
Confucius say: Never take the under with Cyborg unless you're Agile.
"Replaced with something less intrusive"
Translation from Governese to English;
"Changed the name on the stationary, no other modifications."
Were it not for the everlovong arms of Mrs. OneOut I would be the first to proclaim
WOULD !!
But even Mrs. OneOut will not mind me saying
WOOD !!
since she knows it will be to her eventual benefit!!
So now watch whatever there was of a publicly held moral imperative to abolish the surveillance state wither away, while new secret illicit programs carry on.
OK, I'll put the opening of a short story out here, but after that I'll stop unless someone is stupid enough to encourage me.
Having occasion to visit London, I was flattered to receive an invitation from the eminent John Watson, MD, to visit him at his practice.
The good doctor shook my paw. "I have never seen such a marvel as yourself-a talking dog! And, like my friend Sherlock Holmes, something of a detective."
"Ruh-ruh," I replied, shaking my head in the negative, and I explained how I had given up on investigating crimes and strange occurrences. My nerves no longer allowed it, and having parted ways with my friends, who had traditionally drawn me into such misadventures, I no longer felt inclined to pursue such investigations myself. But I noted my admiration for the famous Mr. Holmes and his solutions to perplexities much more complicated than anything with which I had been accustomed to encounter.
"I am glad to hear that you have left the consulting-detective business," said Watson, "and this brings me to the reason I invited you to see me. You see, I am in something of a dilemma when it comes to my friend Mr. Holmes. On the one hand, the exertion of his constant adventures strains him beyond what he is willing to admit, and I believe he ought to rest. Yet on the other hand, when my friend isn't solving cases, he reaches for other forms of mental stimulation, and he indulges his cocaine habit. As a physician, I am familiar with the ravages cocaine causes, and I do not wish my good friend to inflict these on himself, but neither do I want him to wear himself out with constant work, which for him is the only alternative to taking cocaine. So you see that I am caught, as it were, between Scylla and Charybdis.
"But of the two of us, Holmes is not the only one who finds resourceful ways to solve problems. I believe I have hit upon an excellent method of letting my friend get the rest he needs, without experiencing the cocaine craving he develops during periods of idleness.
"I am sending him on a vacation to the United States, to divert his mind with the sights and sounds of that trans-Atlantic republic. I would very much like you to accompany him, to provide him with the challenge of dealing with a talking dog, and otherwise to help him find healthy outlets for his energy and curiosity. But if that does not work-"
Here Watson retrieved from a cabinet a pouch from which emanated a familiar smell which I had sensed in the anteroom. The pouch was in form like a standard tobacco pouch, but the smell was not of tobacco.
"This is a preparation of my own devising," explained Watson, "prepared largely from certain plants provided to me by a botanist on the staff of the Governor of Jamaica. This medicinal mixture, when burnt and inhaled, produces in the patient a considerable slowing of the faculties. It also relaxes the patient to the point where he can enjoy idleness, without constantly craving mental labor and intellectual stimulation. And if there is anything my friend needs right now, it is some temporary relief from the constant intellectual restlessness which is driving him to overwork and, I fear, potentially to an early grave."
I accepted the good doctor's assignment, happy to do my part to help Holmes, flattered that I would be the companion of such a great man during his holiday, and relieved that although accompanying the world's greatest detective on his travels, I would not be asked to undertake any dangerous adventures, of which I had had my fill.
Or so I thought.
When we first arrived in New York, I thought that my mission had failed before it had begun. Holmes purchased a newspaper and, upon turning a couple of pages while we were at a restaurant, exclaimed:
"Look at this! A wealthy American eccentric who has been living on Park Avenue has mysteriously disappeared without a trace?leaving no forwarding address, no instructions, and no news about his situation. Many fear the worst. This is a problem which presents many interesting features?"
Holmes puffed excitedly on his pipe as he looked at the article, but fortunately the pipe was filled with Dr. Watson's excellent calming medicine. After a few minutes of smoking, Holmes put down the newspaper, sighed, and said, "well, there is no point in allowing this to interrupt our holiday. The local constabulary should be perfectly able to solve this case without us. I doubt the gentleman is in any danger. I shall proceed with our trip as planned. Could you ask our waiter for another serving of his excellent corn chips?"
And thus the crisis passed as soon as it had emerged, and Holmes and I embarked on a railway journey to the western states. As Holmes had predicted, the missing rich man had apparently not been in any danger ? it turned out that his wealth was built on borrowed money and he had absconded in order to escape his creditors, to whom he sent taunting letters. So Holmes and I thought no more of the matter.
So it came about that we were relaxing in a saloon in a small town in one of the Western states. I was contentedly digesting some sausage links I had purchased with Watson's extensive travel budget, while Holmes, pipe in mouth, was sitting at the bar.
"A lemonade please, if you have one," Holmes said to the saloonkeeper behind the bar.
"Coming up," said the saloonkeeper. "I do quite a business in temperance beverages with all the Baptists in town. And speak of the devil?" this in reference to a man with a pinched face and gray suit who had just entered the saloon.
"Hello, reverend," the saloonkeeper said to the man as he took a seat next to Holmes.
"I'm not really a minister," said the man, turning to Holmes. "I'm Donald Gravely, undertaker, also president of the Baptist Sobriety League. Sometimes I come by this saloon to persuade the proprietor to sell something besides liquor. And he accommodates me-" as the saloonkeeper passed Gravely a tall glass of lemonade ? "though I wish to see the day when he sells *only* lemonade."
Meanwhile, a gentleman sat on Holmes' other side. Puffing on his pipe, Holmes regarded the new arrival languidly.
"Gimme a bourbon," said the man, who promptly introduced himself as Bob Touter.
"New in town?" Touter asked Holmes. "So am I ? I'm trying to set up a circus in these parts. I have exhibits Barnum would die to have ? marvels and wonders that?"
Holmes stifled a yawn. "That's all very interesting, gentlemen," he said, "but I think I shall retire to my room." And he left, trailing a cloud of smoke from his pipe, with me following close behind.
Go on.
You asked for it -
I thought that the two of us would soon retire for the night, but after a couple of hours of smoky contemplation, Holmes suggested we go out for a stroll. This didn't seem like the best idea, since a light snowfall had just commenced and was probably going to increase as the night advanced, but Holmes was all for a relaxing walk.
As he lit his oil lantern, he said, "please accompany me if you wish, or not, it is all cool. I simply want to take in the sights of the local countryside."
I went downstairs with my friend, and the saloonkeeper said, "ah, Mr. Holmes, it's a nice night to visit the haunted house, isn't it?"
"The what?" asked Holmes.
"Why," said Touter, "everyone in these parts knows about it ? folks have been seeing and hearing strange things at the old Jones mansion."
"That's right," added Graves. "Moans, clanking, strange lights, the whole bit."
"Gentlemen," said Holmes, "I care nothing for such things. I won't be going in that direction. I am simply here as a tourist, and I will thank you not to present me with any riddles, puzzles, cases of strange goings-on, or reports of anything out of the ordinary. I have simply lost my interest in such matters. Be so kind as to who me the direction of this so-called haunted house, so I can go in another direction entirely."
When the denizens of the saloon pointed to the North, Holmes announced his desire to direct his steps Southward instead.
Words cannot express the relief I felt as Holmes and I began our walk out of town in the direction opposite that of the haunted house. Hauntings, ghosts, apparitions, goblins, long-leggedy beasties, and things that go bump in the night had lost whatever slight appeal they had once contained for me. That we were going where such things most assuredly were *not* was a consolation.
And there might have been nothing left to tell of this story, except for an unfortunate thing ? as we began exploring the increasingly-snowy countryside, Holmes took his pipe out of his mouth and began gesturing with the stem to various geographical features which struck his interest. As we kept walking in the fresh air, and as Holmes reduced his puffing on the pipe, his mind must have begun to clear, and his interest in mystery-solving must have begun to revive, because, to my great alarm, I observed him begin to turn his steps westward, then northward, so that we were taking a circuit around the town and approaching the location where, we have been informed, the haunted house lay.
I intimated by whimpers, by tugging at Holmes' cloak, and other signs, that I was dissatisfied with the direction in which he was turning, but far from paying attention to my warnings, Holmes quickened his stride, and all too soon were came in sight of an abandoned house. The front door was off its hinges, the broken, darkened windows stared out into the gathering gloom like empty eyes, and in short I concluded that our search for the haunted house was over.
I didn't like the odors I could detect, even at this distance, emanating from the building. From the smell of old foeces, it did not take Holmesian deduction to infer that human and animal visitors had come to the house over the past few years, hopefully simply to visit, shelter from the cold, and relieve themselves.
But then Holmes stooped over and pointed to several sets of footprints, faint and growing fainter as the snow began covering them.
"From the imprint of these boots," said Holmes, "I must conclude that they belong to?to?devil take it, I neglected, while back at the saloon, to take notice of the boots of the saloonkeeper and the guests. Ah, Watson, your cursed Jamaican preparation has worked its magic ? I was truly heedless of my surroundings. That will not do at all."
And Holmes tapped his pipe so that the precious calming mixture he had been smoking fell onto the snowy ground. Holmes then reached into his cloak, drew out the pouch in which the mixture was stored, and threw it far from him.
"So much for Watson's attempt to lure me into the Land of the Lotus Eaters!" Holmes exclaimed. "From now on I shall keep my wits about me, and?"
He paused, noticing, as I had just noticed as well, the sound of horse-hooves and carriage-wheels behind us.
The approaching carriage was light-green in color, and as the driver came to a halt and dismounted in order to greet us, Holmes said to me sotto voce, "I perceive that he is wearing the clerical garb of the Roman Church, and I am confident that behind that orange scarf which he wears to keep out the winter cold, he has his clerical collar on. Give me a few seconds, and I believe I will be able to identify him?"
The priest came forward, hand extended, and said, "Mr. Sherlock Holmes, what a pleasant surprise! I am?"
"Father Frederick, special assistant to the Archbishop of Baltimore for confidential spiritual investigations," said Holmes as he vigorously clasped the man's extended hand.
"Why Holmes," said the Father Frederick, "how ever did you guess? I have been at some pains not to have my identity or my work known to the general public."
"It was quite elementary," said Holmes, happy to provide a specimen of his swiftly-recovering powers of observation. "It is my habit to collect stories in newspapers and periodicals which may turn out to be of use to me. From my reading of certain specialized publications, I learned of your identity and your role in examining claims of supernatural manifestations, in order to discover whether these manifestations are genuine, or the product of fraud or superstition. And I am pleased to note that in the vast majority of your inquiries you found the latter causes at work, rather than spiritual influences.
"And since my research had already shown that such a person as Father Frederick existed, it was an obvious inference that you and he were one and the same. What reason would any priest except Father Frederick have to visit an abandoned house, reputed to be haunted, and without as far as I know any residents in need of confession or last rites?"
"You are right on all counts," said Father Frederick. "The haunted-house rumors are what brought me here. As you say, generally these phenomena have nothing of the supernatural in them, but in cases like this it is useful to examine the possibility, however slight, of something beyond the merely human being involved, so that we can verify whether that superhuman influence be of a benevolent or a malevolent nature."
"Before we go into the house," said Holmes, "for if you will excuse me I wish to join your investigation, I hope you will introduce me to your assistants. From the exertions of the horses, I recognized that they were pulling the weight of more than one person."
"I would be happy to introduce my associates," said Father Frederick, "just as I would be happy to have the assistance of the world's greatest detective in our investigation."
Father Frederick opened the carriage door and assisted a nun in clambering out onto the ground. Even a nonhuman animal such as myself can appreciate female beauty, and on examining this nun I reflected that the Church's gain was some unfortunate young man's loss. The woman's hair glowed a fiery red in the lamplight as Father Frederick introduced her.
"This is Sister Agnes," said the priest, "an invaluable assistant to my enterprise. And here ? " as a shorter, stockier nun emerged from the carriage ? "is Sister Catherine, named after?"
Holmes interrupted. "Named after Saint Catherine of Siena, the famous scholar-nun. I can see the resemblance ? observe her spectacles, unusually thick for a women of her young age, indicating that she has sadly been harming her eyesight from constant reading."
Sister Catherine sniffed. "That wasn't hard to figure out," she said, "since I'm carrying a book," pointing to a small volume which was tucked under her left arm.
"Indeed," said Holmes, and I could see that he was adapting himself, reluctantly, to the presence of another learned person who was unimpressed by his manner. "And now, Father Frederick, I hope you will introduce me to the fourth member of your party."
Although nobody had mentioned a fourth person, I realized that I could hear from within the carriage the sound of teeth chattering, as of someone shivering, but surely not from the cold, since carriage seemed very warm inside.
"Come out, Father Rogers," said Father Frederick, in a stern but affectionate tone, "we have arrived at the haunted house."
"Th-that's what I was afraid of," said another priest as he emerged, slowly, from the carriage. This new priest, unlike the impeccably-dressed Father Frederick, was dressed in rumpled and ill-fitting garments, a fact of which Fr. Rogers seemed somewhat self-conscious.
"I got these clothes cheap at a surplice sale," said Fr. Rogers, but he elicited no response, since nobody was in the mood for levity.
what a fucking goddamn lovely tale
Zoiks! The game's afoot!
Gay.
well this is lovely notgkc brain mountains
Reason is filled with talentfucks who would write novels around fucking mountains of gods.
There was apparently nothing for it but to go into the house, which Fr. Rogers and myself did somewhat more reluctantly than the others, hanging back until the rebukes of Holmes and Fr. Frederick shamed us into climbing on the rotting porch and entering through the doorway after the rest of the party.
"My suggestion, Holmes" said Father Frederick, "is that you and the sisters explore the upper story-" pointing to a ruined stairway leading to what was left of the second floor- "while Fr. Rogers and I go down into the basement to locate the source of that strange sepulchural smell."
I was relieved that Holmes would not be in the party descending into the basement, since of two unpalatable choices, ascending a staircase to an upper floor seemed less frightening to me than descending into what Fr. Rogers quite rightly called a "creepy basement."
It was with a chill of horror that I hear Fr. Frederick conclude his remarks by saying, "and Holmes, I should like to borrow your dog, the better to detect the source of these strange scents."
And so it was that I found myself not following, but *leading* the two priests into the basement, one slippery, stony step after another, sniffing the stairway in order to trace a powerful graveyard stench whose origin I would have preferred to leave a mystery.
The illumination of Fr. Frederick's lantern, as it shone into the basement from our position at the foot of the stairs, revealed a coffin lying on the ground. I immediately turned and tried to go back up the stairs, with Fr. Rogers right beside me, but Fr. Frederick grabbed us both by our collars and insisted that we remain and investigate.
Exploring the basement, we found that the strange scents came from within the coffin, but the coffin was tightly sealed and locked. So we proceeded to the other end of the basement to see what could be found there when a creaking sound behind us caused us to turn and look.
Brilliant
Like a vision out of a nightmare, a figure clad in black metal armor climbed out of what had until just now been a securely locked coffin.
Fr. Frederick had spoken of benevolent and malevolent spiritual forces, and I suspected that we were confronting an example of the latter. This impression was reinforced by the gigantic battle-axe which the armored figure wielded, and which he brandished as he began striding towards us.
I have difficulty recollecting the details of the next few minutes, since time itself seemed to speed up as the three of us ran for dear life, pursued by the ghastly apparition. All I can be sure of is that we managed to race past the ghostly knight and start ascending the stairs, while the clank of metal footsteps showed that our adversary was following close behind.
Anyone want to guess who the villain is before the story is complete?
By some mercy of Providence, the door at the top of the basement stairs was still in place, with a functioning lock. Fr. Frederick closed and bolted the door mere moments before we could hear the armored figure reach the top of the steps we had just ascended with such rapidity. Then commenced the sound of repeated blows of an axe on the other side of the door, indicating that we would only have a respite of a few minutes before the enemy was upon us again.
Then we heard footsteps which proved to be Holmes descending, with great haste, the stairway from the second floor. He came up to Fr. Frederick and, pointing upstairs, said:
"Don't just stand there, man! Come back upstairs with me, where something of a very curious nature is transpiring. The sisters are in difficulty."
"Where are Sister Agatha and Sister Catherine?" asked Fr. Frederick with some asperity as Holmes led us up the creaking wooden staircase to the upper floor.
"They are safe for the moment behind a locked closet door," said Holmes. "It is not for them that we should be concerned, but for ourselves. Look!"
From the head of the stairs, we could see to the end of a long hallway, at the end of which was a man in the garb of the far West, who was rapidly running towards us. The fur on my back bristled as I saw the glow emanating from the figure, illuminating the passageway without the need of any lantern.
"I am the ghost of Jesse James!" said the figure. "I'm gonna get all of you!"
And then I heard behind us the sound of metal shoes climbing the stairs behind us. We were hemmed in on both sides.
A closet door opened nearby. Sister Catherine emerged from the closet and said, "Father Frederick! Your scarf!"
"Yes," said Holmes, "I was about to suggest that you use your scarf to confound our foes. And you," turning to me, "I have an idea for dealing with this knight."
"I think I see what your plan is," said Fr. Frederick, removing his orange scarf. "Quick, hold the scarf across the passageway in front of 'Jesse James.'"
As was related to me later, Fr. Frederick ? assisted by Sister Agatha, who rushed up to provide her aid ? held his scarf across the passage along which the ghostly gunfighter was approaching. Failing to notice the trap in front of him, the glowing figure stumbled in a most un-ghostly way and fell on his face. Fr. Frederick sat upon his back to hold him.
Meanwhile, following Holmes' hasty instructions, I ran in a direction which was not customary for me - *toward* the axe-wielding knight and not *away* from him. The latter was my strong preference, but a sense of duty toward Holmes and my new friends prevailed over my timidity.
Jumping onto the figure's armor, I climbed to the head and barked repeatedly into the visor. The echo of my barking resounded throughout the armor's helmet, apparently causing a ringing in the ears of the person or entity inside. Discomfited, the knight staggered, and it took only a push from Holmes to send him banging and slamming down the stairs until he landed on his back the main floor, the weight of the armor preventing him from getting to his feet again.
"Now," said Fr. Frederick, "we shall learn the identities of these putative phantoms." Perceiving that "Jesse James'" face was merely a rubber mask, Fr. Frederick reached to pull it off.
"It is the saloon-keeper," said Holmes, and upon the removal of the mask, I perceived that indeed it was.
"Now for our knight," said Fr. Frederick, annoyed that Holmes' identification had preceded the unmasking.
As Father Frederick strove to take off the knight's helmet, Holmes and Sister Catherine said in unison, "it is Silas Newcombe." When the helmet was off, I recognized from his newspaper photograph the former Park Avenue denizen who had fled New York to avoid his creditors. Silas Newcombe was, in fact, his name.
"OK, I'll confess," said the saloonkeeper. "You see, I -"
"Do not trouble yourself," said Holmes. "I can explain your actions, and you only need interrupt if I am mistaken in any of my facts.
"Now, when I reflected on the Baptist influx into the town, prompting you to start selling lemonade, I thought that the temperance influence may have caused you to seek out new, nonalcoholic beverages to sell. Your friendliness with the Baptist showed that you were reconciled to the new way of things. And once I became clear of the influence of Dr. Watson's well-intentioned herbal mixture, I recalled glancing over the counter of the saloon and seeing mud on your boots ? the same sort of mud which is found near this house.
"The rest was elementary. This house is often visited by inebriate vagrants, so clearly your objective was to, as you Americans put it, 'scare them sober' by posing as a ghost, thus creating increased demand for the lemonade you sell."
"And as for you," said Holmes, turning to Newcombe, but Sister Catherine interrupted.
"I know what Silas Newcombe was up to," she said.
"Then pray inform us," said Holmes, and crammed his pipe into his mouth in what I had come to recognize as a gesture of irritation.
"It's all in this book," said Sister Catherine, showing us the book she had been carrying under her arm ? and which she had had the presence of mind not to drop even during her flight from the disguised saloonkeeper.
"The book is by Newcombe himself, and it's all about an invention which he was trying to promote ? a coffin which can be opened from the inside. Newcombe got his idea from Edgar Allen Poe's story *The Premature Burial,* which expresses the author's fear of being buried alive. Newcombe thought he could sell this special coffin to people like Poe, to reassure them that they would be able to escape from their coffins in case they were wrongly put into them while still alive."
"It's a genius idea," said Newcombe, "but the public wasn't interested, and refused to buy any of my coffins. So I couldn't repay the loans I'd taken out to make my coffins. I thought that if I could just hide out for a while in this abandoned house, sleeping in the coffin and emerging from it from time to time, I could demonstrate the effectiveness of my invention. And come to think of it, I have."
"Wait a minute," said Fr. Frederick, "you can't just walk away, you tried to kill us, and that's a crime."
"Now, Father Frederick," said Father Rogers, "King David did worse, yet he obtained forgiveness."
"Yes," said Holmes, "I suggest we overlook this slight legal lapse by a beleaguered businessman, and for that matter that we also let the offenses of the saloonkeeper fade into oblivion."
"Solving these cases is somehow less fulfilling when we can't arrest the people we unmask and listen to them cursing their ill luck to have encountered us," said Fr. Frederick, "but I suppose we have toyed with the copyright laws so much already that we shouldn't stretch our luck."
Which remark was greeted by peals of laughter from one and all.
THE END
A very amusing tale, UGCC.
the clank of metal footsteps showed
needs moar thesaurus.
Everyone's a critic.
Gay.
No, they won't. The constitution didn't stop them, and neither will a mere act of congress. The only way to make the NSA quit violating our civil rights is to disband it.
-jcr
Expect to come home to a rabbit boiling on the stove tonight. Stalkers won't be ignored.
I see that you've had my wife's home cooking.
*Stumbles out of bedroom window, pants around ankles*
Well I was cuttin the rug down at a place called the jug with a girl named Linda Lou. When in walked this man with a gun in his hand pointin at you know who. He said, hey their fella with the hair colored yella, what you tryin to do? Cause that's my woman there and I'm a man who cares and this might be all for you.
That stuff is permanently burned into my brain.
You might be a redneck if you can remember the lyrics to every single Lynyrd Skynyrd song ever written.
I don't know this song, but as I read the lyrics, the voice I heard in my head was Johnny Cash's
Oh, it's "Gimme Three Steps".
Johnny Cash's cover was better.
Nah. The cover Cash did best was 'hurt'.
Nobody covered this better than the original.
Lynard Skynard even predated puttin Zs in place of esses in cool spelling they were so advanced.
SS Top not amused.
You had me at 'had my wife'.
At midnight tonight, the National Security Agency (NSA) must stop its bulk collection of essentially all phone calls made in the United States.
Meh. They've got enough on everybody already.
Anyway, they can still keep collecting all the stuff your "TV" picks up, right?
No they won't. They'll just lie about it again. Mr. Clapper will have to go to prison before they stop doing whatever they want.
So, I just decreed my new Brazilian grandson-in-law, Space Lord, and dedicated this song:
Space Lord
They do look upon me curiously and wonder if Americans really are crazier than anyone else. Got to keep them guessing.
We are crazy like a Fox. =)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wo6UX5PXvlk
I cum into my goddamn phone all the time and I am certain the NSA can't stop collecting that because my cum is eternity brooks of hell zapping grottos chiseled from ancient arts and fossilized pussy lip quiverings. So, ancient spermultraterrestrials be like wizened golden eyeball wings unlocking the greatest deepest assholes of space.
That sounds fun. I just scribbled hieroglyphics all day, and striped dead Egyptian dudes' shorts.
Q bends pyramids. And this fucking shit is awesome.
The pyramids remain unbent, but I'm sure I mispelled papyrys, reid and burd.
The pharoahs saw an actual q and danced before their Nile goddess smashed them with her tits.
The Egyptian wall painting pin up-girl is remarkably flat chested. It amazes me how infant Egyptians survived and prospered,
spermultraterrestrials
Word of the year.
Are not Belichick and Brady the greatest NFL coach/QB combination evah ?
I can't imagine who could be better.
The Patriots had a guy rush for 240 yards =/- in one game this year. The Patriot's next game he wasn't even one of the 43 guys suited up because Belichick intended to attack the next opponent a different way.
As a lifelong NFLand Cowboys fan I find this to be genius since they make it work.
All I know is that as the whitest football team I've ever seen, they are clearly racists and they need to be disqualified on that fact alone. And they seem to always come up with these white dudes that play way above the level that whites can play football. Recently for instance, this Julian Edelman dude. White boy can't play football like that. Everyone knows it! I think they are cyborgs! All of them! Billichickens Cyborg white boy league!
Winning with white players = racism
I'm truely surprised it hasn't caught hold.
It was tried in Philly where the coach was accused of racism by cutting black players but since he had already replaced them with other black players it couldn't get traction.
"Are not Belichick and Brady the greatest NFL coach/QB combination evah ?
I can't imagine who could be better."
Paul Brown/Otto Graham
Joe Montana/Bill Walsh.
Landry/Staubach.
I wish the NSA the best of luck in there petty lives spent in indolence. Living for Realz requires a bit more work, bad decisions, and risk. =)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CO8vBVUaKvk
"The NSA Will Stop Collecting Your Phone Metadata Tonight!"
Put another way = NSA lawyers have found a verb other than "Collecting" to describe the process they're engaged in.
Keep in mind, storing massive amounts of communications data isn't "collecting" unless you know what it is you're storing. By default, if you DONT LOOK FOR IT... it isn't being 'collected'. You don't know what it is! its just undifferentiated stuff that regularly moves through systems. as long as the stuff in the system isn't ever legally acknowledged as being part of the process, it legally is just a byproduct of the actual 'approved' activities.
See it this way = Gold Miners don't state that they're in the business of "moving dirt". the only thing they're interested in is the Gold. Ok, yes, lots of dirt gets moved. and other stuff happens. But that's not *why* they're there. If they could get it another way, then they'd get it another way.
All it might mean is that the giant data-centers that process NSA communications-traffic data change from "Storage" to "Buffering";
and yes, that buffer might have a piece of communications data in limbo for 10 years. But that doesn't mean its being 'stored'. No, that would require knowing what it was. So its just there as part of something else, a process that just takes a long time. They're gold-mining, not Dirt Storing. The purpose is the gold. No one talks about the dirt.
tm UltraGil unloads sweet lizard penis cum swaqqed from the fucking pressure planets, man. Gil rolls a million years of ice age on shit his multispacial fucking acrostic traptastic shit on mini creaky voices crackling on dirty speakers with wires gathered by the turkey boy. And so Gil rolls back on his weaved chinese rollback poolside and gets frantic cuz the pool is there but no water and no babes and gotta get brain rich, nigga. zgotta save Gil from gettin scared under the nuclea holodome. Gil had Agile to roll him out of fucking dry pool thong under the orange goddamn clouds.... pulling Gil into the underbasement. Gil is kicking and musculo and shit will be good. Agile got some tough scared tendons to survive this holocaust, bitches
Fallout 4 Agile Cyborg ? =)
No one actually believes this, so I stopped saying it, but since I've never said it here. The first time I met a deathclaw in FO4, actually outside the museum of freedom, it killed me because I didn't have a plan. So when I respawned, I battled with the beast for like 20 minutes. The way I killed it was I shot off it's tail and it fell over. I swear to gawd this is true.
Fucking goddamn was hurt so bad by a goddamn smashing ship that some goddamn drinking fuck smash into my space bar and that place where my blue neon seat by the lonely corner next to that orange whore with the tiny tits always sat but the fucking side of this comet bar has to be rebuilt because a drugged stoner space driver smashed shit in and someone said his name was Jpyrate... so I will be send out my dudes but space is the fuck it is.. the onlanoe place where clovers cry like tiny girls and make churches on holocaust earth.
I have your back muthafuka. With my scoped out laser musket, and tattered minuteman hat I will burn our enemies to ash !!!
Burn the village! Burn the peasants!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7gz1DIIxmEE
What the fuck is up with the fugly weapons in FO4? I want scary looking black weapons made of carbon composite materials that make politicians shit their pants!
Those are not the weapons that the pants shitting politicians are actually looking for. =)
They are looking for people who understand "Code", "Gunsmithing", and "Chemistry".
2 out of 3... *slinks away into the shadows*
"What the fuck is up with the fugly weapons in FO4? "
I liked the redesign to limit ballistic weapons to "crafted" styles (the 'pipe-based' weapons) and the "universal receiver" styles ... (which sort of looks like a remington model 81... which the 'combat rifle', 'combat shotgun', etc all are based off)
To my thinking, to be proper to the lore... the weapons should either be 'home-made'... or some design that was so freaking robust, that it could last 200 years. Both of the above fit that requirement.
The odd-man-out which doesn't fit in either category is the 5.56 "Assault" gun... which is bizarrely larger and clunkier than a semi-auto .308, designed more like a maxim or an anti-aircraft gun, with the large water-cooler/shroud around the barrel
Not only is it ugly, huge, etc... it doesn't seem useful in either auto or semi configs. I never touched it.
Laser/Plasma/Gauss weapons... i've always liked their designs, and they haven't changed much (tho the gauss is very different vs the older games)
I've never liked the plasma weapons in FO. I like my standard high speed projectile weapons, feels like a realistic kill to me.
Yes, they're sloooooooow. they work in VATS and in close quarters, but for moving and shooting in open areas they are not ideal.
I just finished the game a minute ago, and its notable that i hardly deviated at all from the 2-3 basic weapons - combat rifle, combat shotgun, sniper-rifle.
hardly used the plasma, laser, or gamma weapons even a little bit. Never used a fat man once. rocket launcher was underpowered and way too heavy... Gauss rifle once fully upgraded was way better than a rocket launcher (tho no area damage)
would have appreciated a grenade launcher or some other area-explosive weapon. less than a fat-man, more than a grenade.
Also would have appreciated more Big Bad hard-to-kill things like the Mirelurk Queen Monster to shoot at. I was capping Behemoths in 3-4 rounds by the end. booooring. The main problem at the end was getting mobbed by gangs shooting lasers, which destroyed my power armor and had me walking around in a skeleton suit.
Also = This, plus Rifleman's perk... arguably the best weapon in the game for all-around use.
You know. Government has all this power, but at the end of the day they are more scared of us than we are of them. The State is a powerful, but pathetic social institution.
Allahu Akbar cheap watches big penis drugs for less Nigerian banking straight and on the level time share mail order bride.
"Put another way = NSA lawyers have found a verb other than "Collecting" to describe the process they're engaged in."
Yes. NSA style guide now refers to it as "reviewing".
Goddamn planets are like fucking bottles and shit. fucking all the bottles are never empty. like planets. Never fucking empty. Just be rolling and orbiting and deep like space fountain falls of comet drips.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6chxuovrbCI
Delta V conquers all.
Lightning is the universe way of stamping anger at the lost lives of angry wars, bros and sister.5.
5?
Thunder Kiss 65
Volcanic pyrotechnics for you, sir.
Volcanic pyrotechnics for you, sir.
Certainly overboard squirrels... And if I had a thread knife I'd stab the fucker in the goddamn throat.. I guess this shit is peaceful.....
5-5-5
Clearly a sign of the end times. Don't you see? Just add one. ONE I TELL YOU!
reason is the desolation of the final loving nuclear brilliant goddamn sweet cocks and vag.5.
If putin decided to eat Klonopin and 14 asian assholes and cocaine and an entire bottle of vodka and send his present of atomic alteration our way... well, peace out boys and 3 girls. I loved you for many months and guitars and sweet pink pussy on my face like smashed in my face until I could not breath and I grabbed her ass cheeks while she tries to kill my face with her pussy and I realize that if I die suffocating on pussy I am ok with this and she smashes my lips into her pink mash and I eat and eat and I stroke my goddamn cock while she shrieks and pulls MY GODdAMn HaIR!! I am dying with PUSSY IN MY mouth while SHE fucking pulls the FUkcing hair from my skills.
Jesus chaste. i lost fucking tons of 2 point polys on that orgasm
fact is, reason ninjas are the gleaming trombone of swerves bending on the glades of mysteries snapping necks to hallowed echoing voices crying dragon mysteries across the swamps of the living uplifting digitial rivers of this lost world..........................
So, Mars or bust?
Mars is q vegetable and q is a sword chopping that shit into planet slices for q pie. for his vagine girl he will suck and fuck on the q weekend on a q space.
So like Mark Watney, but he's getting laid all the goddamn time he's supposed to be sciencing the shit out of everything. Ridley Scott regrets he never directed a porno.
clouds glint on the majestics of minds that live under the bridge of gods. agile happened on that village of brilliant threading princes.
I fell down a lost hole and as I wept
the light disappeared and all the atoms
connected with my suction down into
and... then i realized that being sucked down
is a trait of mental travail... being sucked down is
a classic lsd trip and while I am supremely tripping
and fucked up I caught my fingers trying to kill me.
I don't think many will catch that. but I.m on reason
I fell down a lost hole and as I wept
the light disappeared and all the atoms
connected with my suction down into
and... then i realized that being sucked down
is a trait of mental travail... being sucked down is
a classic lsd trip and while I am supremely tripping
and fucked up I caught my fingers trying to kill me.
I don't think many will catch that. but I.m on reason
I fell down a lost hole and as I wept
the light disappeared and all the atoms
connected with my suction down into
and... then i realized that being sucked down
is a trait of mental travail... being sucked down is
a classic lsd trip and while I am supremely tripping
and fucked up I caught my fingers trying to kill me.
I don't think many will catch that. but I.m on reason
Falling down a lost hole is more of a ketamine thing.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/K-hole
...or so I've been told!
Ah, the K-Hole. Tunnel vision, loss of motor skills, helplessly stuck in the back of your head as your body engages in moral depravity, good times. Last time I did that, oh, fifteen years ago or so, I could have passed as Hunter S. Thompson on an ether bender.
+1 Fear and Loathing
"The White House says that it has a less invasive process ready to replace the old program."
Some White House lawyers might say that a prison rape is "less invasive" than a colonoscopy, though, so, personally, I don't really find the White House's promises reassuring.
I'd rather stick with the Fourth Amendment, which is pretty explicit.
So, anyway, when can we expect the announcement that the people who violated our constitutional rights are being indicted? Even to the extent that some people find White House promises reassuring, they're still no replacement for seeing criminals sent to prison for violating our rights. I want justice.
Do your fucking job, Mr. President.
"Do your fucking job, Mr. President."
Indolence is the Presidents job. =)
We're talking about a guy who thinks his job is to act like a 19th century progressive luddite and that this behavior is 'moving us forward'.
Triumph of the will.
Have you watched it ? You can buy it on Amazon. As far as propaganda films go it's pretty good. It's like a Hitler painting come to life.
The entire 20th Century was one hundred years of war, fascism, and democide. Why not look at all aspects of it ?
In regards to Leni Riefenstahl, there's an interesting discussion to be had on aesthetics and political content. When you look at the work of Celine (a la Death on the Installment Plan), Gunter Grass, and Riefenstahl, I think it's okay to judge the merits of the work based on the intent of the artist.
Death on the Installment Plan may have been written by a Nazi collaborator, but the purpose of the work is not political. So, it's understandable to judge the work outside of its politics. Same thing with much of what Gunter Grass wrote. If the purpose of The Tin Drum wasn't to express Nazi politics, then why damn the work itself for something it didn't do (even if Grass really was in the Waffen SS).
Triumph of the Will is different. I've seen it. Know your enemy. It is explicitly pro-Nazi, and it was intended as pro-Nazi propaganda by Riefenstahl. I can't separate it's prettiness from my judgement of the work. It is expressly intended as a means to propagate and perpetuate the Nazi version of fascism. That makes it the opposite of aesthetically pleasing. It's a shit stain of a film. Maybe the worst film ever.
Incidentally, "ugliness" can be beautiful for being expressly and purposely anti-authoritarian, too.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y8klW9trVTQ
Nice. I *just* missed them - so I was a Skinny Puppy fan instead.
I was on board with them, too, but then I saw Ministry when they first started touring, too.
Like the new wave stuff they laugh about now--I went to those shows back then.
The move from synth-pop to industrial wasn't as dramatic as people think. If you listen to Ministry from Effigy to Every Day is Halloween, and then listen to what Al Jourgensen and Ogre were doing in Skinny Puppy--and then when both of them were calling themselves Ministry again after that? It's a natural progression. It's just that if your only exposure to Ministry was by way of MTV and the last thing you remember seeing was the the Revenge video and if the next thing you saw was the video for Stigmata, you thought they went through a major transformation to industrial.
Fact is, that if you went to the early Ministry shows, they had a hardcore/death rock fan base from day one. It's mind boggling that people think of early Ministry and Cabaret Voltaire as synth pop, think of later Ministry and Skinny Puppy as industrial, and think of them all as different. It was the same bands with the same members. It was the same people at the shows in the same venues, too. I think it's just a function of the music press trying to label shit.
Except that Jourgensen tries to disavow his first album. I think most of us are just fans of all of that shit. I know I am just as much a fan of synth-pop as industrial - it's all good.
I know he disavows it, but at the time?
It was the best synth pop record ever. And he can disavow it, but, like I said, the industrial he did later was a natural progression from what he was doing before.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cMmMTgdKBwQ
He can disavow that all he wants. That's his early stuff. That sounds like industrial to me. NIN is going to steal exactly that sound and call themselves industrial.
Every Day Is Halloween was a death rock anthem in SoCal.
My first Ministry song was "Revenge" - gah, it's still awesome.
Anyway, that shit was amazing and organic when it happened. I used to think old movements would be reinvigorated like that and new ones would be created in perpetuity. Watching it all dry up and die is why I first started to be suspicious of Gen Y. I guess we can only hope that the millennials' kids will rebel.
The scenes of the 80s are probably the best argument out there for keeping the Drug War alive. Those scenes might not have developed that way without that counterculture behind it. Mainstream it into millennial culture, and they'll likely make it as lame as everything else they touch. They got the reverse Midas touch--everything they touch turns to shit.
Well, I don't do "scenes" any more but musically there's more great stuff out there now in a similar vein than I would have expected.
Everything seems to be emulating something else that happened a long time ago.
It's hard to describe, but it's sort of like how back in the '80s, when people got dressed to go out at night, they didn't dress up as anything. That was just the way they dressed when they went out. Now people dress up like they're in the '80s. Once people start dressing up "as" something, they might as well dress up like they're a pirate or a superhero.
What I'm trying to say is that the music today is like that.
Skinny Puppy and Throbbing Gristle weren't dressing up like anything. They were just doing what they liked, and I don't see too many people doing that anymore. I had big hopes for the garage revival, but that kind of music faded. My hope for that died with Jay Reatard and Om.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=klv9JLjJ4DI
This is one of my favorite performances ever caught on video...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MNcws0cOI9k
...caught on somebody's phone?
Even like...if you go to a Sleep show now? It was all the members, but it isn't Sleep anymore. It's like the best Sleep cover band in the world--with all its original members--but it isn't Sleep. And it's not just that they had to relearn the licks. They're not who they were, and they aren't inspired by the same music like they were before. Now you're gonna have the same problem with Om.
I still go to shows. But it's over. There isn't anything like inspiration there anymore. It's like listening to Star Wars fans talk about the next Star Wars movie--trying to emulate the excitement of something that was genuinely inspiriting in 1976. But they don't even like the first movie!
It's like a club where yuppies used to go to watch the authentic freaks--except there aren't any authentic freaks there anymore. So the millennials just sit there and talk to other millennials--and they pretend there's a scene and that they're making it. And after a while? They talk themselves into believing it. You can't imagine how weird it is to have been in an authentic scene that people are trying to emulate and have them imagine that you're not an authentic part of it because you're not posing.
I was going for irony.
"We're talking about a guy who thinks his job is to act like a 19th century progressive luddite and that this behavior is 'moving us forward'."
He thinks he's forcing us forward--our devastation is the "triumph" of his will.
Yeah, he thinks he's moving us forward.
You know who else thought he was moving us forward?
I fell into a burnin' ring of fire
I went down, down, down
And the flames went higher,
And it burns, burn, burns,
The ring of fir, the ring of fire.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2BaksqH2YXQ
I've heard that one. Didn't have the effect on me as the original song, which I first head when I was like 10 years old.
I've always thought this is one of the greatest covers of another song I've ever heard though.
Hurt
Cash sort of reminds me of my dad, who is 85 years old and has met the guy on several occasions.
I posted that because I assume that everyone I meet are younger than me. It's a good way to expose younger people to Mr. Cash. I have an old Dad as well. I love him, and my Mom.
My Dad.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gDwCMxPwJ_4
He is always an artist, and so is my Mom. =)
You are a good man (Hyperion) Charlie Brown. =)
This is a great James Brown cover (by a white, but there is a black person playing the harp. The amount of appropriation is astounding).
Track 1 on my sex music playlist.
Sploosh.
This is completely awesome. Love the bass.
Jpyrate is an evil cloud of hell. Burning the towns he visits and raping the whores he finds and they are mostly whore moms and whore dogs and whore towns. Jpyrate is the consumate destroyer of all the planets in your solar systems, sirs, If you run and solar system, sirs on this galactic board_) watch out for Jpyrate- he will kill all your planets with his jizz comets.
YARRRRRR !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f55CqLc6IR0
If I could live my life over again I would kill everyone of those Bastards again !!!!!!!!!!!!!
YARRRRRR !!!!!!!!!!!!
I am haunted night and day by this song:
Change my ways
Goddamn this song.
/cocks the intelligence in my head.
Fuck the what? Hillbilly Pilgrim Metal? Fuck yeah!
Fuck the what? Hillbilly Pilgrim Metal? Fuck yeah!
You know, this could become the official H&R thread drank anthem.
Fuck the what? Hillbilly Pilgrim Metal? Fuck yeah!
You know, this could become the official H&R thread drank anthem.
Ah, who am I kidding, this has my vote to be the official libertarian theme song!
My mom and dad are both artists. My mom is 79.
Right on. Hype. =)
What lucky men you both are.
My father died at 53 when I was 21 and my Mother at 60 when I was 28.
Were I to be so lucky as to be able to talk to them right now.
I wish you luck. All the luck in the world. May your voice live long in everyone who listens.
this is for oneout.
Thanks dude.
In 9 months I will have outlived them both.
I so envy those who can call Mom or Dad for advice even at my age.
When one's last parent dies there is a bridge that is crossed that cannot be uncrossed.
It faces you with the realization that you are on your own and the last person in the world who will take you in regardless of the circumstances is gone. Unconditional love is gone.
I still have family who would help me in times of need but I would never ask them unless it was life or death.
My family are not especially close and then both my folks were gone before I was 40 which was way earlier than I expected; I can feel this.
Condolences, OneOut. I actually lived with my grandparents most of my youth, so was just as close to them as my parents and my grandmother died when I was 37, that really fucked me up for a while. I hate death. I'm with Peter Thiel on this one, I'm against it.
Thank you. But life is what it is. I have had a much better life than most on this planet and I am grateful for that.
I have no right to self pity and don't ask for it from others.
While it would be nice to be able to have a conversation with my Father or Mother, millions can say the same.
I'm a middle to upper middle class American with the material lifestyle that goes with it.
I am blessed with a wife who is half my age and who adores me . I am so lucky that my wife is right out of the fifties .According to my friends she is June Cleaver. She is that and she takes pride in being that.
My inlaws love me for providing her the life she wants and the emotional security she needs.
All I'm sayiing is that I appreciate the kind words about my parents but I am blessed and life goes on.
.
Anyway
Looks like Manning is done with the Broncos.
Will he get a chance with any other team or is he done.
Will he retire as gratefully as he can at this point or will he Brett Farve his way out of the league?
I am so lucky that my wife is right out of the fifties .According to my friends she is June Cleaver
Heh, my wife is like that too. She's not half my age, but she's definitely June Cleaver like.
Appreciated, as a young'un (well, 46) who got into Cash via NIN.
Nah
Cash is money
Need to cut back on the habenaros
reason is genius worldspace is genius reason
raindrops falling from the dreams don't happen on Mars, bros.
earth is why I fucking hate browsers and threads and NOT the most amazong people ever in the fucking brank Reason world.
but in the future we wont communice in these shitty boxes and we will be able to connect our life vortexes aside from the sterile poetic crushing place called this goddamn horrible white box. FUCK WHITE BOXES. FUCK SHARES I MINDS ON SHIT WHITE BOXES WITH GREY ASS LINE SQUAres.
fuckit.....
I just want to eat a billion rainbulbs shat from the ass of a native chief rocket.
I whiffed a certain smell about my bullish man shape and I noticed tinges of cocaine and dying violets and soft velvety pussy lips and gods demanding ransoms so long gone that that even space itself only recollects their mystical odours which I smell upon my self my quivering friends of the lovely imaginspaticial world of wizards...
if you have to be alive at least fucking smell like agile- sweet, smoky, ghostly, and angry, my loves.
I whiffed a certain smell about my bullish man shape and I noticed tinges of cocaine and dying violets and soft velvety pussy lips and gods demanding ransoms so long gone that that even space itself only recollects their mystical odours which I smell upon my self my quivering friends of the lovely imaginspaticial world of wizards...
if you have to be alive at least fucking smell like agile- sweet, smoky, ghostly, and angry, my loves.
what is this duplictious insanity? I fucking hate this downpour of hellacious multiples.
Thank You, Smack Daddy Obama! I religiously accept all things you and your NSA say to be absolute truth!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FROlM3Ft5qQ
If you sit under a million pounds of actual earth rain....
This is your government collecting everything about you.
Your data is an actual hurricane you will run from in florida at the face of hell waves...
except your data you pretend is flouncy wouncy rabbit ears and cream puff raggedy ann story books NONe of you millenial fucks read.... your data is raggedy ann cream puff bullshit on pinterest, facebook, disqus, twitter, and all the fucking dead pools.
Praise surveillance fuck muscle---- we saved america by watching a billion boobs and cocks
while Putin's silent nuclear missle sails overhead into eastern seaboard... erm.. fuck
OT: What other websites do you guys look at for libertarian-leaning news/commentary and general free market readings?
Zero Hedge can be useful, though they have a nasty conspiracy-theorist bent along with an odd love affair with Putin.
They don't post frequently, but:
http://www.samizdata.net
These folks are somewhere in the conservative/libertarian spectrum, and often have good pieces:
http://thefederalist.com
There's also a site populated with some of the less 'formal' Samizdata people, out in Oz.
http://www.countingcats.com
If you like your liberty a bit more 'rough and tumble'.
Spiked Online. Brendan O'Neill is great.
Brendan O'Neil is a fucking God among Men/Women.
I *just* bookmarked that - good stuff.
If you're looking for articles about existing law over philosophy, Popehat is a good site for getting into the legal nuts and bolts of a particular issue.
I like City Journal - they are the closest thing to libertarian-leaning with a NYC spin; though often too cop-sucking for my taste.
"We don't collect metadata anymore, we just watch it go by and see where it goes!" (Traffic analysis)
OT but an excellent reframing of this issue: Good ideas evolve, so how come liberals believe in 'creationist' government?
You can believe in evolution without being a social Darwinist.
The opposite of big government is not Social Darwinism.
If your foreign policy is in line with your domestic policy then you do not give Charity to socialist, or communist states. Investing in Capital produces more Capital.
How do you say "Streisand effect" in Arabic?
Saudis to sue Twitter user who called poet's death sentence 'ISIS-like'
For those keeping score, a chart showing the differences in punishment between Saudi Arabian and ISIS for various crimes.
SPOILER ALERT!
There isn't much of a difference.
IMO I do not care what they do to each other. If you actually want to make a "Change" in there society, reach out to that societies "Black Market"
Agorism FTW
"IMO I do not care what they do to each other. If you actually want to make a "Change" in there society, reach out to that societies "Black Market""
True, and it's good to keep Helmut Schmidt's description of the USSR in mind: "Upper Volta with missiles".
Saudia Arabia is a 'feudal' society, for want of a better description, avoiding the harm that comes from that as a result only of oil extraction.
There is nothing at all of value in that society other than the oil it sells. May their camels shit in their tents.
I do not know who "Helmut Schmidt" is. I will have to look him up. I do not mind selling the the Kingdom of Saud weapons in order to protect themselves so they can sell product to an ally. I do have a problem with a customer that demands I have to provide security after I have sold them the means to provide their own security.
I remember Helmut Schmidt but it doesn't affect my opinion that I would rather wish the US had *nothing* to do with Saudi Arabia whatsoever.
To be fair, the draconian "criminal" punishments are not the primary problem with ISIS. At least KSA isn't selling minority women into sex slavery and seeking to expand its territory by brutal warfare.
Tide, and Ammunition will make you more friends than threats. =)
seeking to expand its territory by brutal warfare
No, not exactly yet, Saudi Arabia is seeking to expand it's ideological territory by proxy warfare.
If ISIS had oil and a established market, it isn't clear that they'd do so, either.
No, they're just an importer.
You see slaves I see operatives.
*operatives
Sounds like something that would happen to me.
OT, cops:
SF cop gets 'fame', and apparently too many drinks:
"'Hot Cop of the Castro' arrested in S.F. injury hit-and-run"
[...]
"Christopher Kohrs, a San Francisco police officer known affectionately on social media as the "Hot Cop of the Castro," was arrested early Sunday morning after he allegedly plowed into two men in the city's North Beach neighborhood and ran off."
http://www.sfgate.com/news/art.....663731.php
Yes, he ran down two people, got out of the car and ran away, presuming 'the cops' wouldn't figure out who owned the car.
So, I'm pretty sure he'd got felony 'Running Into People', prolly DUI, certainly Hit 'n Run, and I hope felony 'Public Stupidity'.
Off topic. Sevo. Never all of your stock, spices, and salt into your stuffing. Taste as you go. You can always add more, but you can never take anything out.
"Never all of your stock, spices, and salt into your stuffing. Taste as you go. You can always add more, but you can never take anything out."
I started the stock ~8:30AM, and believe me, it got 'touched up' with salt until it got drained through the screen about 2PM. This time (kosher salt), it almost got too salty; that stuff is large-grained and you have to wait after adding to get an accurate taste; it dissolves slowly.
But you are 100% correct; there is NO WAY to remove salt or other spices.
Sevo believe when I say this. When you are dealing with thousands of dollars of product, you do not want to fuck up.
Learning experience. I envy you Sevo. =)
One option is to add a lot more of whatever else, to dilute the salt and/spices. But it might not be practical for you in this instance. I've done it when I made chili too hot: froze it and used chunks the next time I made chili.
Wouldn't.
Ditto!
Going on three days since the end of the Colorado Springs shooting, and the media still isn't reporting what kind of gun was used. What a joke. If it was an "assault weapon" they'd be shouting it from the rooftops, so I'm ever more certain it was some kind of .22LR rifle.
No victim identities yet other than the dead police officer. Planned Parenthood didn't seem to suffer any casualties.
It would be curious (legally speaking) if he shot a woman going there for an abortion and didn't kill her, but did kill the fetus.
Usually that is considered murder, but if it happens in an abortion clinic, does it count?
still at least assault for hitting the woman with a bullet.
But still the question remains, did it have a shoulder thing that goes up?
Bardy get 69 seconds to win
manning is done in Denver.
news at 11
What is it about Brady/Belichick ?
They are the best evah for all time.
This game doen't change that but I do like this Denver QB,'
Where did he come from ?
2-0 against a terrible Bears defense followed by a bunch of very lucky penalties and obscure clock rules going against the Patriots. We'll see.
Given how much the Patriots cheat, still impressive
It is good to see Cry-Brady screaming for defensive holding in vain, and Belicheat throwing a tantrum over the clock running after an injury timeout.
Think about it. A "Government" Agent could retrieve more intelligence working without the WOD than he/she could having to deal with the WOD.
Paging sycophant Lyle, your hysteria is required!
OK, I know nothing of the physical effects involved here, but there have certainly been kids permanently ruined by their parents hoping for a pay-out.
This kid's control of her vocal cords and her lung capacity is far beyond what a normal 9YO can do; is she in danger, or just working at becoming a wonderful talent?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xBQ1f5hZYYE
Ik weet het niet.
I read runes, speak English, Canadian and a bit of Japanese, so I have no idea what you posted.
It's dutch for "I don't know".
I don't see anything there that's concerning. Her biggest danger is the schedule and emotional demands her parents will foist upon her, driving her into burnout, addiction and rehab (if she's lucky) by age 16.
no one needs that much lung capacity. i bet her vocal chords even that that thing on the back that flips up.
It's an assault voice, really
Sure they will.