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Month: September 2005

Won’t Lynn be Shocked….

Posted on September 20, 2005 in Quizzes

How come I never get any of that?

September Storm

Posted on September 20, 2005 in Weather

A big indigo burst of thunder sounded off somewhere to the east.

I Smell a Dead Whale

Posted on September 20, 2005 in Compassion Stigma

Stanford researchers have managed to turn a portion of the population of the mentally ill into fish farm stock.

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Someone May Be Listening to Your Keyboard

Posted on September 19, 2005 in Folly Watch Human Rights

I wonder about the integrity of any scientist who conducts such research in an era when individual rights are being trampled upon.

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Insert a Trite Metaphor about a Corral

Posted on September 19, 2005 in Roundup

This roundup covers the period from 12 September to 18 September 2005

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Gender Roles Anyone?

Posted on September 19, 2005 in Quizzes

Okay, kidding about the eunuch part.

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Two Soldiers

Posted on September 18, 2005 in Neighborhood

I saw two soldiers at the entrance to my condo complex.

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One in Every Hundred

Posted on September 17, 2005 in Mania

There is one sufferer of bipolar disorder in every hundred Americans.

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My Inner Evil Clown

Posted on September 17, 2005 in Computer Art

Argh!

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On Being A Maniac

Posted on September 16, 2005 in Mania

I just didn’t share the blood lust of the sane.

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Insert A Trite Metaphor About a Corral

Posted on September 12, 2005 in Roundup

This roundup covers the period from 6 September to 11 September 2005

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Spanked for Being Too Frisky? — Hardly

Posted on September 11, 2005 in Disasters Myths & Mysticism

square042I’ve fallen behind on my news reading and today is not exactly an auspicious day, what with the 9-11 attacks being remembered in the wake of the catastrophic failure of relief from Hurricane Katrina by the same incompetents who slept while the hijackers prepared their assault.

An article which I saw in BBC News described the scene in Nawlins’s French Quarter:

Sitting on high ground, the Big Easy’s main tourist destination was almost entirely untouched by the storm.

And now, with the city evacuated and shut down, it is entirely untouched by tourists. The streets are empty.

Even the pay phones are working, as I discovered to my shock when I idly picked one up and heard a familiar buzz as I passed The Centuries, an antique shop at 408 Chartres.

The coin slot was jammed, so I used my mobile phone to ring my brother and asked him to call me on the pay phone’s number. A moment later, the phone rang.

Vibrantly coloured buildings stand proudly intact, their wrought-iron balconies having weathered the storm. Even the flowers in the window boxes look healthy.

This is the section of town where the nations’ homosexuals were expected to rampage on the day after Katrina. Said festival was cited by Fundamentalists as the reason why New Orleans was “punished”.

Throughout the city, many devout Christians lost their lives. Church foundations undoubtably sloughed off their encumbering edifices. And yet this historic center of sin came out of Katrina unscatched.

Yes, as in the past, the discreetly hidden brothels will operate. Yes, men will pull the shirts off their women at Madi Gras and show their bobbing breasts to passing photographers who will put them on the Internet for all to see. And the orgies — both homosexual and heterosexual — will continue.

Is this what God wants?

The scenario played out in 1906 when San Francisco was swept by the Great Earthquake and Fire. For three days following the early morning tremblor, a firey maelestrom crossed the northeast corner of town. Fire crews fought bravely to stop the blaze and the Federal Government immediately deployed troops to the region. A Naval Cruiser waited at the north end of the city and transported refugees — the largest maritime evacuation in history up until that time. (Quite a contrast to what we saw these last two weeks, eh?) In the end, there were miles upon miles of blackened ruins. Photographs show the outline of buildings — including churches — all along the avenues which now form the heart of San Francisco’s tourist and financial district.

And in the midst of this all stood a miracle: the distillery owned by the Hotaling family stood untouched by either earthquake or fire. Everything around it has burned down, but the producer of sin by the bottle incurred no damage.

Then, as now, many self-styled prophets rose to declare that the calamity was the finger of God wiping out the Sodom and Gomorrah of the West Coast. And against this demagoguery, a single couplet refuted the claim:

If God spanked the City for being too frisky
Why did he burn all the churches and spare Hotaling’s Whiskey?

When I look at the pictures of the unharmed French Quarter, I ask “why indeed?”

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