My wife, Elizabeth Miller, is running as the Democratic candidate against incumbent Republican Tag Greason for a seat in the Virginia state legislature. She’s running because he voted to require victims of rape to undergo mandatory transvaginal ultrasound exams before ending their pregnancies, to ban the contraceptive pill, and for a law that could force police to investigate miscarriages (and against a judicial nominee just because he was gay, and against budgeting for mass transit, and a pile of other noxious junk).
Perhaps realizing that his record wasn’t helping him get re-elected, Tag sent out a false mailer, claiming that the highly regarded group FactCheck.org had checked on Elizabeth’s descriptions of Greason’s votes and found them to be untrue. The problem with that claim is, it’s a lie. FactCheck.org has never made any comment whatsoever on Virginia’s legislative races. They’ve previously called upon other Republican candidates to stop telling the lie that FactCheck.org has done so, and, just yesterday, they added Tag Greason to their list, reporting that he has falsely mis-used their name. (A local newspaper, The Loudoun Times-Mirror, ran a story on it too, with the extraordinarily blunt headline, “Republican Party of Virginia sending out false mailers,” and calling out Mr. Greason by name.)
Of course I support my wife in her bid to give control over our private lives back to all Virginians. But, in particular, I hope everyone who can do so will support her in trying to block the re-election of a man who simply makes up stories because the actual facts aren’t what he wishes them to be.
Please vote for Elizabeth Miller for delegate, Tuesday, November 5.
While Ted Cruz blathers on and on in contradiction after contradiction (by claiming that government doesn’t listen as he monopolizes the floor of the Senate to do all the talking), I cannot help but notice that, if he were a Texas senator (instead of a senator from Texas), he’d have been told to sit down and shut up, a long time ago. That’s because of this:
It’s a little hard to see in C-SPAN’s blocky online video, but he is clearly resting his arm on the podium. That’s something Wendy Davis would have been told she couldn’t do, when she stood for 11 hours, with no break, for better reasons than Cruz will ever have. In fact, not only is Cruz allowed to lean on the people’s desk, he actually gets to take breaks.
Ted Cruz isn’t half the leader Wendy Davis is. His “filibuster” is a fake, his argument is a fake, and his candidacy for president is (thanks to his loony display of the last several hours) now a fake too.
At last night’s back-to-school night, my son’s art teacher invited each of us to draw a caricature of our children. Here’s my rendition of my son:
CNN’s Web page is an increasingly embarrassing exercise in what happens when print-it-first news supersedes get-it-right journalism. Today, however, we see the smoldering fuse of something potentially destructive.
Here’s the “above the fold” portion of a story on their “CNN/Money” page:
Don’t take it too personally, Joe. At least they spelled your name right.
UPDATE: I was the first and only commenter on this story, noting the blunder above, when the story disappeared from CNN’s site. Hope it comes back correctly edited. I’d hate for this mistake to cost Mr. Fernandez some decent press. In all sincerity, he seems to have a perfectly sensible idea for a business.
UPDATE 2: Well, Joe finally got his story, albeit deep below the e-fold. I still think he’s got a good idea, and so do some of the others. Check him out: http://money.cnn.com/gallery/smallbusiness/2013/09/03/obamacare-startup-entrepreneur/5.html
So I previously posted about a product that works. Specifically, a system of buffing pads and abrasives that restores yellowed plastic headlights to crystalline clarity. It does, in fact, work. However, I learned yesterday that this also works:
Yup, good old toothepaste does a pretty good job if you take an old sock and use it to buff up those aging plastic enclosures. Takes a bit more elbow grease than a pad being spun by your electric hand-drill, but nothing says you can’t use one and the paste (and that’s got to be paste, by the way, not gel).
Here’s the “before”:
And here’s the “after”:
Not as dramatic a change as with the drill and the store-bought kit, but it’s a real improvement and took only a few minutes and some paste I already had.
Thanks to all the YouTubers who have put up videos of this (see here and here).
Go give it a try!
Going to see the unparalleled cinematic classic from 1961, “Mothra,” with my brother-in-law tomorrow. Being a smart guy, he reserved the tickets in advance, though, amazingly, he said yesterday that there were still seats available. (I believe his exact words were, “It looks as though we may have the entire theater to ourselves.”)
If you’ve never seen it (but, really, who hasn’t?), or if you have never seen it on the big screen (and, really, who has?), please join us. It is showing at the Alamo Drafthouse in Ashburn. The synopsis says it all:
1961′s MOTHRA introduces an altogether different breed of Showa-era daikaiju into the radiation-riddled tokusatsu universe of rubber monsters.
She also does not needlessly stomp around bustling cities unless she has a reason: namely, to protect her loyal followers. While MOTHRA does not lead up to a battle royale, it is the story of a giant moth on a rescue mission. If that doesn’t sound like pure cinema magic to you, you need a bigger mind.
So the question for you today is, just how big is it? Do you have the mind for “Mothra?”
If you do, or even think you do, please join us. Even if you don’t. Join us, please.
2011 – 2013
My son lost a pet today. Not a dog or a cat, or any of the other animals one tends to accept as family members. He lost a gerbil. His name was “Runner.” Runner was ill and he was in a lot of distress, so my son took care of him the way he should, by deciding it was time to let him go and not be hurting anymore. Tough call for an eleven-year-old, but he did it.
This is my boy’s first time dealing with this sort of thing. Crummy business, but there’s no way out of it. Runner’s pal, “Spotty,” is going to have a hard time of it as well, since this will be the first time he’s had to sleep alone in his life. Probably going to be a kind of glum evening here.
Runner was a good gerbil. I’m glad he spent his life in our home, and with my boy.
He made me this card:
Which had this poem he wrote, inside:
And this picture, as well:
Um… <*sniff*>. (I love you too, boy.)