Author: VD

Spacebunny: We don’t do Valentine’s Day in the Day household. Vox probably would, but I just can’t bring myself to care.

Pan-Gargler: uh huh… I bet he did something special for his Treo.

Spacebunny: I’m not saying he wouldn’t have, but alas, the poor Treo is still in the shop. I don’t know what special thing he could do for it anyway, since I already bought him all the accessories for it for Christmas.

Pan-Gargler: It’s sad ya know.. the poor guy’s idea of a menage a’ trois involves his Treo and his Dana.

Spacebunny: I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Spacebunny is nice and pretty and all that, but does she store a gig’s worth of ebooks AND emulate an Intellivision? I don’t think so. A man has his needs, you know.

The NYT upsets a gravy train:

The [CBT] therapy dwells exclusively in the present. Unlike traditional psychoanalytic or psychodynamic therapy, it does not typically require a long course of treatment, usually 10 to 15 sessions. When cognitive therapy was introduced, it met significant resistance to the notion that people could be cured without understanding the sources of the problems. Many therapists said that without working through the underlying problems change would be superficial and that the basic problems would simply express themselves in other ways.

Cognitive advocates convinced colleagues by using a tool that had not been systematically used in mental health, randomized controlled clinical trials.

I took three things away from this article:

1. Conventional psychoanalysis is about as scientific as Magic: the Gathering and Advanced Dungeons and Dragons, and about as likely to cure mental illness.

2. Therapists are going to actively oppose cognitive therapy as it hypothetically poses a serious threat to significantly reduce their ability to parasitize treat their hosts patients.

3. My suspicions about traditional psychotherapy being a useless con game were correct from the start.

The money quote: “Although randomized controlled trials are the gold standard of scientific research, for most of the 20th century such research was not used to test the effectiveness of psychotherapeutic methods, in part because psychoanalysis, at the time the most popular form of talk therapy, was actively hostile to empirical validation.”

Still, those charlatans needn’t worry overmuch. I’d guess that at least two-thirds of those in therapy are there because they are more than willing to shell out for a captive audience. And they’ll continue to do so. No one ever went broke by encouraging people to talk about their favorite subject.

The New York Times interviews a linguistics expert:

Q. Many of the women you’ve interviewed for your new book complain of mothers who criticize their appearance. Are they right to be annoyed?

A. “Right” and “wrong” aren’t words a linguist uses. My job is to analyze conversations and discover why communications fail. The biggest complaint I hear from daughters is: “My mother’s always criticizing me.” And the mother counters, “I can’t open my mouth; my daughter takes everything as criticism.”

But sometimes caring and criticism are found in the same words. When mothers talk about their daughters’ appearance, they are often doing it because they feel obligated to tell their daughter something that no one else will.

The mother feels she’s caring. The daughter feels criticized. They are both right.

What I try to do is point out each side to each other. So, the mother needs to acknowledge the criticism part, and the daughter needs to acknowledge the caring part. It’s tough because each sees only one.

I find this sort of thing very amusing, as there seems to be more than a little overlap between the people who deny that women are overly critical in a male-female context, and those who readily accept that women are overly critical in various female-female relationships.

Here’s a basic rule of thumb. If someone doesn’t ask you for your opinion, keep your trap shut, barring the possibility of your criticism of an action that involves a high probability of a) danger to life and limb, b) losing a job, or c) making a lifelong commitment. Sure, everyone is going to accidentally offer unwanted criticism from time to time, but there’s no excuse for making a habit of it, especially when the criticized party has expressed a wish that you stop it.

The “caring” excuse if bogus. If you want to tell someone that you care, then tell them so. That’s a positive message everyone can appreciate. Otherwise, mind your own business. When someone wants your opinion, they’ll ask for it.

Of course, if you’re so desperate for maternal approval that you’re calling Mommy up everyday to tell her what you ate for lunch, you need to give serious consideration to getting a life.

The Telegraph on the EU’s latest legal atrocity:

The islanders’ revolt has been brewing for some time. First, this community of Swedish-speaking Finns lost the right to fish at sea with traditional nets. Then Alanders saw their beloved spring duck hunting virtually abolished. To the Alanders’ final outrage, local laws on consuming “snus” or Swedish chewing tobacco, are about to be quashed by the European Court of Justice….

Snus, a form of chewing tobacco, has been outlawed by EU fiat in every nation except Sweden, which secured a -special opt-out as a condition of its joining the EU, and in every region – except Aland. The Commission recently took Finland to court to quash Aland’s snus law. But Finland has no power to change that law. Finland does not control laws covering health in Aland; Aland does.

Aland is not allowed to defend its law before the justices in Luxembourg because the court recognises only nations. So the court is set to convict and fine Aland, without allowing the island’s government to plead its case.

In case you’re wondering why I am so contemptuous of people, this situation pretty much sums it up. Everywhere around the world, those seeking power over others dangle the supposed benefits of centralized government. It will make the trains run on time. It will be more efficient. There’s no need to have ten different villages/cities/states/nations replicating the work that can be done in one central office. Promises are made about how money will flow into the little village/city/state/nation and the bold new era of prosperity that will ensue. The matter is put to a vote.

And nine times out of ten, the idiots voluntarily stick their heads in the lion’s mouth. Only then do they discover that the naysayers – who have been dismissed as ultraconservatives too stuck in the past to see the benefits of this brave new future – weren’t anywhere nearly pessimistic enough.

I’ve seen this happen everywhere. I’ve seen it happen in the States and in England, I’ve seen it happen in local organizations and in supranational organizations, I’ve seen it in Italy and I’ve seen it in Japan. The same thing happens every single time: the newly centralized operation ends up costing more, taking money out of its new member and significantly interfering with even the pettiest actions of what used to be the local authority.

And in the end, the fools who voted for it are left lamenting their fate, like Aland’s Tomas Grunér. “I thought the EU was a good idea, but now I think it sucks.”

Note, by the way, that the EU Constitution is scheduled for its first attempt at revival later this year, as I correctly predicted when it was “killed” by the French and Dutch votes.

Somewhere in Tennessee, the Pan-Galactic one is laughing himself sick:

he players—one capped several times for England— were caught on camera cavorting with a pal well known in the music industry in a homosexual orgy that will shock soccer. The three men—who cannot be identified for legal reasons—are pictured wearing just vests and boxer shorts as they tackle each other in ways fans never expected.

This is going to be a much bigger story in Europe than the Danish cartoons – it’s already cracked the Italian papers – and should lead to some amusing appalling chants at the World Cup in Germany this summer.

I’m just hoping Manchester United is involved somehow.

Somewhere, the White Buffalo is chuckling:

Fans of No. 5 Gonzaga have been asked to stop yelling “Brokeback Mountain” at opposing players. The reference to the recent movie about homosexual cowboys was chanted by some fans during Monday’s game against Saint Mary’s, and is apparently intended to suggest an opposing player is gay.

The chants were the subject of several classroom discussions over the past week, and the faculty advisers for the Kennel Club booster group urged students this week to avoid “inappropriate chants” during the Bulldogs’ Saturday game against Stanford, which was nationally televised on ESPN.

First, it’s a movie about homosexual shepherds. Although I suppose it’s asking a bit much to hope the Brokeback enthusiasts in the media to get it straight. Anyhow, this confirms my theory about the utter pointlessness of political correctness. Since the insult is in the content, not the label, changing the label doesn’t make any difference with regards to the contempt expressed and perceived.

And it’s strange that the chant should be interpreted as an insult, or even a reference to homosexuality, considering how we were all repeatedly informed that the movie was not about gays, but was merely a love story. And since, we are informed, gay is good, then how can anyone object to publicly celebrating a basketball player’s lifestyle choice?

Anyhow, I’m amused that the PC crew at Gonzaga – “senior Callie Monroe wrote a column calling the chants a case of ‘outright discrimination.'” – has seen fit to bring this most excellent slur to the nation’s attention. Because I guarantee you’re going to be hearing it at high schools, NFL games and at March Madness from now on.

Broke-back Moun-tain, clap, clap, clap-clap-clap, Broke-back Moun-tain. As the Sports Guy would say, good times.

And while we’re on the topic of college basketball, beware the Bison!

From the Nihilist in Golf Pants:

11. Whittington bears a remarkable resemblance to a quail

10. Just to watch him die

9. Whittington had just filled his SUV and Cheney wanted the oil

8. Cheney tired of Jesse Ventura’s taunts about him for never having hunted man

7. Cheney thought Wittington was a major league a-hole, big time

6. Iraq war bloodlust no longer satisfies the Vice President

Oh yes, there’s more….

Atlas Dined, by Huck:

Could I please have a glass of ice water?

The server hurried off, somehow seeming annoyed that he had ordered ice water. Jack Caldwell didn’t know why he had, why it summoned inside of him a strange emotion, not quite envy, but a nagging– well, who had time to think of emotion? He had been longing for ice water all day; not out of need, but respect, for its clarity, its precision, and yet, he felt a certain contempt for it. Perhaps it was because its perfection was wasted on craven fools who wiped tables and carried food for people.

Marla Packwood sat across from him, trying not to let him see the shock in her face, which was cut as if by a sculptor, its lines tracing out the form of archaic nobility. She knew his request for ice water was a challenge to her, that he knew she cared what beverage he ordered. As long as they’d known each other, she had endured long hours of pain, in order to show indifference toward his food and drink, but tonight she had slipped, and she wondered why. She hated herself for it, but only for an instant, after which she regained her cold, stiff, emotionless, yet dangerously feminine demeanor.

It was the height of the dinner rush, and throughout the restaurant, elegantly dressed diners chattered away, consuming California wine and whispering about Harold Molt, who was in the restaurant with some friends.

Harold Molt had created a stir in the country when he published a book of philosophy. In it, he stated that America was corrupt, and he recommended that all industrialists be shot dead at once, as a lesson for the children. His philosophy was already gaining wide acceptance among college professors, newspaper editorialists, and the wives of industrialists. It was surprising to see him at this restaurant, but in this horrendous age, nothing was surprising anymore.

“Jack, do you see that scoundrel is here tonight?”, Marla asked, managing to put emphasis in her question without showing any emotion, a trick she had mastered when only three years old, the year she graduated from high school.

“Yes,” he answered, with a look of blankness which she knew meant that he felt the same way, that they didn’t agree with Molt’s ideas, that they both recognized Molt as an assault on everything that was good in the world, what good there was left.

When their dinner arrived, neither dared look at one another. They had both ordered rib eye steak with asparagus and baked potato. He had requested his own basket of rolls, and she knew he had done it to mock her. He could eat more rolls than she, and she hated herself for letting him, for caring, for not being able to hide her shame, in the pleasure it gave her to submit, to eat only one roll while he ate four….

Tatiana could probably use a few more punches to the head to knock some sense into her:

This may sound crazy but I don’t think anybody should be hitting anyone no matter their sex. But that’s just my crazy pacifist side coming out. I think what this Vox person is advocating is disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. Especially considering so many women and girls are abused daily that someone to even suggest it’s okay to do that makes me stomach turn.

Betty Friedan advocated for non-violence but also condemed the feminist who felt you needed to be a man-hater. She stood for men and women working together to support second wave feminism.

This Vox individual just strikes me as angry and scared. He’s angry that women refuse to be “trained female slaves” and he’s scared that one day a woman might one day call him on it. He’s so brave hiding behind his computer but I dare him to go public with his views on women. He also seems incredibly misinformed about the life and the work of Betty Friedan. I would also venture a guess that this guy has never been hit by anyone ever. I have, I was hit by a guy, I didn’t deserve it. I did not offer sufficent provocation. I was smacked, I was given a black eye. It was not in the name of equality. It was in the name of violence.

Yes, she’s right! *sob* I’m terrified… and obviously those direct quotes from Ms Friedan’s work were the product of my terror. And unlike Tatiana, I am aware that women initiate violence as often as men. So, please don’t hit me, I beg you, please, please don’t hit me!

Now, I don’t unleash physical violence on people simply for being stupid, but I have to confess that it would amuse me to give this sniveling crybaby a matching set of black eyes. Women like this don’t understand the first thing about courage or honor, and they will never understand that it is their contemptible cravenness that causes men and women who do to regard them as an inferior species of Man.

“Oooh… I was hit once… I got a black eye… in the name of violence.” Boo freaking hoo! An NFL running back suffers worse in every single game of the 16-game season. Every boxer and martial artist in the world has been jacked in the head, most of them several hundred times. It is their scars that they wear with pride, not their victimhood.

The greatest respect is earned by the man or woman who is willing to get up after being knocked down. That’s why two boxers will so often embrace like long-lost brothers at the final bell after spending 15 rounds half-killing each other; a man respects no one more than the man who takes his best shot and still refuses to quit fighting.

Being a coward herself, Tatiana assumes that everyone is likewise craven. But she already lost her dare almost three years ago.

It is true that the Christian has an obligation to turn the other cheek. What Tatiana and her kind will never understand is that this is not a shield for cowards to rationalize their behavior, but rather, an extremely difficult exercise in mastering one’s pride in order to follow Jesus Christ’s example.

From the New York Times:

WHEN Dr. Morando Soffritti, a cancer researcher in Bologna, Italy, saw the results of his team’s seven-year study on aspartame, he knew he was about to be injected into a bitter controversy over this sweetener, one of the most contentiously debated substances ever added to foods and beverages…..

He theorized that the tumors in his study were related to the methanol, or wood alcohol, that is produced as the body metabolizes aspartame. When the body breaks down methanol, the result is formaldehyde, a known carcinogen. “I know that when I treat animals with methanol, you end up with lymphomas and leukemias,” he said.

Spacebunny and I have avoided aspartame for years, as my father – who was on the low-carb thing back when low-fat was all the rage – looked into it years ago to explain why he was getting headaches after switching to diet Coke. After he explained how aspartame can be converted into formaldehyde, we figured it simply wasn’t something you want to put in your body.

I have little doubt that this will prove to be yet another lesson in the idiocy of putting your trust in government agencies to keep you safe and healthy.