54 Percival: Seasonal Update

Taken with the cell phone camera shortly after shoveling out, it kind of appears as a representation in impressionism. You can almost make out the lights on the Christmas tree in the window.

54 Percival Street: Open for Visitors

After parking, bring marshmellows in back for the chiminaea:

Have a seat!

Compost is functional:


No more cucumbers, however.

Tomatos have almost run their course:

But if you peek through, you can see a couple trying to escape:

Exit through the grape vine:

It's a Good Read!

Ghetto Nation

Isn't multi-culturalism wonderful?

Once upon a time, ignorant, uncouth behavior was something that we used to see and silently shake our collective heads at people doing stupid and self-destructive things.

Today, that same behavior (obnoxious swearing in public; baggy jeans hanging off your ass; rude, unwelcome, attention towards women) isn't only tolerated... it's celebrated. Cultural critics have been so completely cowed that they say nothing about ghetto behavior for fear of being labeled racist.

At least some maintain a sense of humor about it:

"I can't control my soldiers."

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2006/jun/18/congo.theobserver

If this were an operation conducted by joint Iraqi and American forces, we’d be saturated with comparisons to My Lai and calls for an immediate war crimes tribunal.

So where was the vocal outrage and condemnation by the One Worlders? The question becomes then and now: why the double standard, and in this case who has to gain by applying one?

Emergency Broadcast System

Look there, he's coming!

All in a Weeks Work

These are some of the more astounding pictures I’ve come across from the recent shuttle mission delivering the European Columbus Lab to the ISS:

I hope commercial spaceflight gets its act together before I kick the bucket because this would be one hell of an inspiring view to see in person.

High Flight

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

Of sun-split clouds -- and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of -- wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence.

Hovering there, I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air.

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue

I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace

Where never lark, or even eagle flew.

And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.