Now that we have the bourbon/rum war behind us, back to more serious matters.

I have to broaden my space policy browsing beyond the mundane sites like space.com, spacedaily.com and nasawatch.com. Because I don’t regularly read the Weekly World News, I almost missed this important story that NASA has been trying to cover up.

One of the ISS astronauts has knocked up a space alien. Yes, I know, it seems improbable–the genetics probably wouldn’t work out. That’s what they thought, so they didn’t bother to use any protection. It could have not just transterrestrial, not just interglobal, but interstellar diplomatic repercussions.

“This is a potential public-relations disaster,” says the space agency insider, who leaked an eye-popping photo of the expectant E.T. to Weekly World News.

“We’re out there trying to convince our friends in the universe that we’re a mature species ready to accept the responsibilities of interstellar flight. Then this happens and it looks like we can’t keep our spacesuits zipped up and our hands off their women.”

It seems like a very foolish career-limiting act for the unnamed ‘stro. From the pics shown here, I would have been able to keep my hands (and other appendages) off her, no prob. De gustibus non disputandam…

Some have suggested that I may have been a little intemperate (so to speak) in my correctional remarks to Professor Reynolds concerning the true national beverage. Well, perhaps, but the man insulted my chosen method of inebriation. Never do that, particularly when I’m inebriated. And he didn’t insult just mine, but that of every right-thinking American. And I thought that my comments were actually quite moderate–being a born’n’bred Yankee, even after a hundred and thirty six years, there are many phrases with which I could have replaced the words “from Tennessee” that would have ultimately parsed to the same meaning, but been freighted with much more derogatory connotations. I won’t elaborate further, because this is a family web site.

And in fact, his verbal faux pas wasn’t just against the manhood of the nation at large–I won’t be shocked if his fellow Volunteers don’t ride him out of Knoxville on a rail for more local, parochial reasons after his ill-considered comment. After all, just what is it that Tennessee is known for (aside from that country caterwauling from Nashville, and Graceland)? What is it they brew just down the road from Knoxville, in Lynchburg? It ain’t bourbon, that’s for durn sure. Bourbon is from (ready for this?) that den of all that is unholy, just to the north–KENTUCKY!

And as to his mistaken notions of what real Americans drink, just what was it again in those bottles that Carrie Nation was smashing, as she marched down Battle Alley with her ax? Hint: it wasn’t Demon Bourbon.

I invite the good Professor to do a google on “Demon Rum.” He will find that this phrase appears literally hundreds of times, as evidence of its long-standing role in promoting cameraderie, buccaneering, vital barroom pugilistic festivities, domestic abuse, and getting ugly people laid, throughout hundreds of years of American history, all the way back to the planters on the piedmont and pirates on the Spanish Main. Try a similar search on “Demon Bourbon,” and you’ll be lucky to find a reference to some wimpy guy in his white suit and string tie, rocking on his veranda, drinking his mint julep (no doubt with pinky extended as he sips), or Bourbon Street, which isn’t even in a true American city–we all know it’s really French (damned cheese-eating non-capital-punishing surrender monkeys).

Case closed.

But I will apologize for a couple of other comments–I was indeed overwrought. Based on years of experience and verbal intercourse with him, I know that Glenn is not really a commie, closet or otherwise, and I have no verifiable information, one way or the other, concerning his nocturnal urinary habits (nor am I seeking any–it’s a lot more than I want to know), so I retract that as well.

However, I do expect him to now see the error of his imbibulatory ways, and hope that we can put this ugly little contretemps behind us…over a bottle of Bacardi 151.

An actual pan of LOTR appears at Ross Anthony’s (whoever he is) web site.

It’s definitely an epic undertaking, long with intermittent brazen fight scenes, sort of an “Apocalypse Now Junior.” Unfortunately, and unlike Scorsese’s masterpiece, the most profound thing about LOTR is its length. I had to use the restroom at the two-hour mark, and frankly enjoyed the break. Nor does LOTR deliver a payoff to its patient audiences.

Apparently he has a short attention span, or a weak bladder or both. Of course, his credibility is not enhanced by the fact that it was not Scorcese, but Francis Ford Coppola who directed “Apocalypse Now.”

I still want to see it.

[Update]

Somebody apparently fed him a clue–he’s since done a s/Scorsese’s/Coppola’s/ at the site…

An actual pan of LOTR appears at Ross Anthony’s (whoever he is) web site.

It’s definitely an epic undertaking, long with intermittent brazen fight scenes, sort of an “Apocalypse Now Junior.” Unfortunately, and unlike Scorsese’s masterpiece, the most profound thing about LOTR is its length. I had to use the restroom at the two-hour mark, and frankly enjoyed the break. Nor does LOTR deliver a payoff to its patient audiences.

Apparently he has a short attention span, or a weak bladder or both. Of course, his credibility is not enhanced by the fact that it was not Scorcese, but Francis Ford Coppola who directed “Apocalypse Now.”

I still want to see it.

[Update]

Somebody apparently fed him a clue–he’s since done a s/Scorsese’s/Coppola’s/ at the site…

An actual pan of LOTR appears at Ross Anthony’s (whoever he is) web site.

It’s definitely an epic undertaking, long with intermittent brazen fight scenes, sort of an “Apocalypse Now Junior.” Unfortunately, and unlike Scorsese’s masterpiece, the most profound thing about LOTR is its length. I had to use the restroom at the two-hour mark, and frankly enjoyed the break. Nor does LOTR deliver a payoff to its patient audiences.

Apparently he has a short attention span, or a weak bladder or both. Of course, his credibility is not enhanced by the fact that it was not Scorcese, but Francis Ford Coppola who directed “Apocalypse Now.”

I still want to see it.

[Update]

Somebody apparently fed him a clue–he’s since done a s/Scorsese’s/Coppola’s/ at the site…

In the midst of a discussion about Jonah Goldberg’s kvetch about his booze being slandered by the war reporting, the Instapundit mistakenly notes:

Good thing I’m a bourbon drinker. Like all real Americans. . . .

Well, I normally respect Professor Reynolds’ opinions but, while I hate to differ with that [RANT=”fuming”] closet commie bedwetter from Tennessee, as a proud (temporarily) Caribbean blogger, I wish to forthrightly state that rum was this nation’s first likker, and it remains the only true beverage for real real Americans.[/RANT]

In the midst of a discussion about Jonah Goldberg’s kvetch about his booze being slandered by the war reporting, the Instapundit mistakenly notes:

Good thing I’m a bourbon drinker. Like all real Americans. . . .

Well, I normally respect Professor Reynolds’ opinions but, while I hate to differ with that [RANT=”fuming”] closet commie bedwetter from Tennessee, as a proud (temporarily) Caribbean blogger, I wish to forthrightly state that rum was this nation’s first likker, and it remains the only true beverage for real real Americans.[/RANT]

In the midst of a discussion about Jonah Goldberg’s kvetch about his booze being slandered by the war reporting, the Instapundit mistakenly notes:

Good thing I’m a bourbon drinker. Like all real Americans. . . .

Well, I normally respect Professor Reynolds’ opinions but, while I hate to differ with that [RANT=”fuming”] closet commie bedwetter from Tennessee, as a proud (temporarily) Caribbean blogger, I wish to forthrightly state that rum was this nation’s first likker, and it remains the only true beverage for real real Americans.[/RANT]

More Pundit Bashing

With a title reminiscent of one of Professor Reynold’s points this morning, Hugh Hewitt weighs in with a piece called Irrelevant Cleverness. Definitely worth a read.

In response to my comments about the prospects for changing the political complexion of New York state, New York reader Charlie Banks opines:

As a New Yorker who has been fighting a losing battle against the cult of Clinton in my lifelong home state, I must say I see a glimmer of hope in the political wakeup call New York may have heard post-9/11. Schumer, I must admit, comported himself quite elegantly in the immediate aftermath (tho’ unfortunately he’s clearly reverted to form, judging from his Fed-Orgy op-ed in the NYT), but on the other hand I’ve noticed the general consensus that just about the only major New York State political figure whose approval numbers have not risen since 9/11 is Hillary Clinton. If the political hay to be made from these attacks doesn’t help her, nothing will.

I’ve always had something of a political fantasy going in the last year or so, which goes something like this:

(1) George Pataki runs for a third term as Governor in 2002, and wins;

(4) Possible-A.G. Giuliani runs to succeed Pataki as Governor in 2006.

In my estimation, (1) is looking more likely every day. Element (2a) looks like something Bush would just love, and is probably more likely than (2b), at least at this late date. The fate of (3) hinges on how Pataki does in his presumptive third term, but if his popularity continues to outshine Clinton’s as it does now (and has consistently for years), I’d put money on him. Giuliani doesn’t even need the A.G.’s office to pull off (4), but then, that is a long way off.

To crib another New York catch-phrase (Yankee fan tho’ I am), Ya Gotta Believe.

Yes. Well, much can happen in five years. Heck, as we’ve seen, a lot can happen in three months. This looks like as reasonable a scenario as any right now.

Of course, it’s hard for me to feel a lot of sympathy for your senatorial plight–where I spend much of my time, I have to contend with Boxer and Feinstein. The only hope that I see for California is some kind of partition–I’d move to northern California (the part way above San Francisco) in a minute if it were removed from the bootheel of Sacramento.