Friday Night AMV

You gotta swing the bat.

So you want to be a moderate

Zero Hedge has an application form for Syrian rebels to fill out.

Complete the following sentence. “American weapons are…”

A) Always a good thing to randomly add to any international hot spot 

B) Exactly what this raging civil war has been missing for the past three years 

C) Best when used moderately 

D) Super easy to resell online

Homesickness

The magic of crowd-sourcing

A Project Gutenberg pen-pal from Spain solved the mystery:  the song was released on a 45 in 1973 or 1974 entitled "Tubular Bells," but the tune I remembered was Side B, also (confusingly) entitled "Tubular Bells."



I remembered the tune very accurately, as it turns out--even the ornaments showed up towards the end--but I'd completely forgotten the background arpeggio except as a dim memory of a kind of rhythm.

I just can't say what a relief this is!  Now I want to go play with the noteflight score to put in the correct left-hand part.

Duffle Blog

The problem with the DB is that its articles so often sound plausible.

". . . the other 24% are comatose."

A new poll finds that 76% of Americans disbelieve the IRS story about the emails.  That includes 63% of Democrats.  And here's a new one:  the dog ate the EPA's subpoenaed emails, too.

This looks handy

A credit-card sized all-purpose tool called the "Grommet."

Doom Awaits You, IRS

Why such uniformity of opinion on the matter? It might have something to do with the fact that no one believes the IRS accidentally lost their email records as the result of a cascading computer failure which the agency remedied by simply throwing the affected hardware away. When asked if they "believe the IRS that the emails were destroyed accidentally," or "they were destroyed deliberately," 76 percent of survey respondents said the latter. Only 11 percent of independents, 5 percent of Republicans, and 20 percent of Democrats managed to convince themselves that the IRS's story was possible, if not likely.

Past due, really. The man was right: a jury, even a jury of public opinion, has every right to conclude that the evidence destroyed was probably not good for the IRS.

Violence and its discontents

From Ricochet:

Kevin [Williamson]’s mistake was stating the biological fact that Laverne Cox is a man. As my new allies inform me, this is hateful and indeed “violence” against transgendered people. I blame kindergarten teachers who have for years trained children to “use their words” as opposed to violence, when apparently, there is no distinction to be drawn between the two.

Anyone who read "Anthem" in his/her/their/xyr youth will remember the fictional society's abolition of the pronoun "I" and the requirement that each persyn self-refer as "we."

Unclear on the concept

More from Maggie's Farm, linking the NY Post:

The New York City Department of Education employs a full-time director of homeschooling to manage the Big Apple’s roughly 4,000 homeschooling families.

Well, as long as a government employee is still drawing a paycheck.

Goals for marriage

The NY Post examines divorce trends in the U.S.  As Cassandra often has reported to us, women have been the primary instigators for a while, but socio-economic clout correlates strongly with staying married:

In the 1970s, when divorce skyrocketed, Wilcox says, many researchers expected that the upper classes would be worst hit.

The sexual revolution seemed to free them from the social strictures of marriage.  Hope for the future of the American family rested on those middle and even lower classes in the heartland.

In fact, the exact opposite has proved true.  Marriage is thriving among the wealthy and educated.

“Who would have thought elites would have devoted themselves maniacally to their children’s success?” asks Wilcox.

It seems as though marriage does well when it is a vehicle for something else — whether that’s making sure your children have food on the table or that they get into an Ivy League school.

Marriage does well when it is a vehicle for "something else"--than the "Cinderella romance" addressed by the article.  Who'da thought.

The author wonders whether women are abandoning marriages because their husbands are maladroit geeks and grubby slackers.  My husband has been remarkably patient with my maladroit geekiness and grubby slackerdom.

"A question foremost on everyone's lips"

An article summarizing trends in the Guardian quotes the burning issues posed by the thinking class, including the exasperation of a professional lesbian over the growing interest in same-sex marriage.  Who needs marriage, anyway?  "Same-sex marriage fits comfortably within the conservative ideology of the self-sufficient family and contributes to the politics of state austerity."  Totally, and what's more:

"Isn’t marriage merely a clever ploy to keep us quiet about the trickier issues such as the deportation of lesbian asylum seekers?"

The scales have fallen from my eyes.

H/t Maggie's Farm.

The Death of the Ugly

Eli Wallach has died.

Only think

Reading about the New York Times's account of the failed negotiations for a status-of-forces agreement in Iraq call irresistibly to mind this passage from "Sense and Sensibility":

Mrs. John Dashwood did not at all approve of what her husband intended to do for his sisters.  To take three thousand pounds from the fortune of their dear little boy would be impoverishing him to the most dreadful degree. . . .

"It was my father's last request to me," replied her husband, "that I should assist his widow and daughters."

"He did not know what he was talking off, I dare say; ten to one but he was light-headed at the time.  Had he been in his right senses, he could not have thought of such a thing as begging you to give away half your fortune from your own child."

"He did not stipulate for any particular sum, my dear Fanny; he only requested me, in general terms, to assist them, and make their situation more comfortable than it was in his power to do.  Perhaps it would have been as well if he had left it wholly to myself.  He could hardly suppose I should neglect them.  But as he required the promise, I could not do less than give it; at least I thought so at the time.  The promise, therefore, was given, and must be performed.  Something must be done for them whenever they leave Norland and settle in a new home."

"Well, then, let something be done for them; but that something need not be three thousand pounds.  Consider," she added, "that when the money is once parted with, it never can return.  Your sisters will marry, and it will be gone for ever.  If, indeed, it could be restored to our poor little boy--"

"Why, to be sure," said her husband, very gravely, "that would make great difference.  The time may come when Harry will regret that so large a sum was parted with.  If he should have a numerous family, for instance, it would be a very convenient addition."

"To be sure it would."

"Perhaps, then, it would be better for all parties, if the sum were diminished one half.  Five hundred pounds would be a prodigious increase to their fortunes!"

"Oh! beyond anything great!  What brother on earth would do half so much for his sisters, even if really his sisters!  And as it is--only half blood!--But you have such a generous spirit!"

"I would not wish to do anything mean," he replied.  "One had rather, on such occasions, do too much than too little.  No one, at least, can think I have not done enough for them: even themselves, they can hardly expect more."

"There is no knowing what they may expect," said the lady, "but we are not to think of their expectations: the question is, what you can afford to do."

"Certainly; and I think I may afford to give them five hundred pounds apiece.  As it is, without any addition of mine, they will each have about three thousand pounds on their mother's death--a very comfortable fortune for any young woman."

"To be sure it is; and, indeed, it strikes me that they can want no addition at all.  They will have ten thousand pounds divided amongst them.  If they marry, they will be sure of doing well, and if they do not, they may all live very comfortably together on the interest of ten thousand pounds."

"That is very true, and, therefore, I do not know whether, upon the whole, it would not be more advisable to do something for their mother while she lives, rather than for them- something of the annuity kind I mean.  My sisters would feel the good effects of it as well as herself.  A hundred a year would make them all perfectly comfortable."

His wife hesitated a little, however, in giving her consent to this plan.

"To be sure," said she, "it is better than parting with fifteen hundred pounds at once.  But, then, if Mrs. Dashwood should live fifteen years, we shall be completely taken in."

"Fifteen years! my dear Fanny; her life cannot be worth half that purchase."

"Certainly not; but if you observe, people always live for ever when there is an annuity to be paid them; and she is very stout and healthy, and hardly forty.  An annuity is a very serious business; it comes over and over every year, and there is no getting rid of it.  You are not aware of what you are doing.  I have known a great deal of the trouble of annuities; for my mother was clogged with the payment of three to old superannuated servants by my father's will, and it is amazing how disagreeable she found it.  Twice every year these annuities were to be paid; and then there was the trouble of getting it to them; and then one of them was said to have died, and afterwards it turned out to be no such thing.  My mother was quite sick of it.  Her income was not her own, she said, with such perpetual claims on it; and it was the more unkind in my father, because, otherwise, the money would have been entirely at my mother's disposal, without any restriction whatever.  It has given me such an abhorrence of annuities, that I am sure I would not pin myself down to the payment of one for all the world."

"It is certainly an unpleasant thing," replied Mr. Dashwood, "to have those kind of yearly drains on one's income.  One's fortune, as your mother justly says, is not one's own.  To be tied down to the regular payment of such a sum, on every rent-day, is by no means desirable: it takes away one's independence."

"Undoubtedly; and, after all, you have no thanks for it.  They think themselves secure; you do no more than what is expected, and it raises no gratitude at all.  If I were you, whatever I did should be done at my own discretion entirely.  I would not bind myself to allow them anything yearly.  It may be very inconvenient some years to spare a hundred, or even fifty pounds from our own expenses."

"I believe you are right, my love; it will be better that there should by no annuity in the case: whatever I may give them occasionally will be of far greater assistance than a yearly allowance, because they would only enlarge their style of living if they felt sure of a larger income, and would not be sixpence the richer for it at the end of the year.  It will certainly be much the best way.  A present of fifty pounds, now and then, will prevent their ever being distressed for money, and will, I think, be amply discharging my promise to my father."

"To be sure it will.  Indeed, to say the truth, I am convinced within myself that your father had no idea of your giving them any money at all.  The assistance he thought of, I dare say, was only such as might be reasonably expected of you; for instance, such as looking out for a comfortable small house for them, helping them to move their things, and sending them presents of fish and game, and so forth, whenever they are in season.  I'll lay my life that he meant nothing farther; indeed, it would be very strange and unreasonable if he did.  Do but consider, my dear Mr. Dashwood, how excessively comfortable your mother-in-law and her daughters may live on the interest of seven thousand pounds, besides the thousand pounds belonging to each of the girls, which brings them in fifty pounds a year apiece, and, of course, they will pay their mother for their board out of it.  Altogether, they will have five hundred a year amongst them, and what on earth can four women want for more than that?--They will live so cheap!  Their house-keeping will be nothing at all.  They will have no carriage, no horses, and hardly any servants; they will keep no company, and can have no expenses of any kind!  Only conceive how comfortable they will be!  Five hundred a year!  I am sure I cannot imagine how they will spend half of it; and as to your giving them more, it is quite absurd to think of it.  They will be much more able to give you something."

"Upon my word," said Mr. Dashwood, "I believe you are perfectly right.  My father certainly could mean nothing more by his request to me than what you say.  I clearly understand it now, and I will strictly fulfil my engagement by such acts of assistance and kindness to them as you have described.  When my mother removes into another house my services shall be readily given to accommodate her as far as I can.  Some little present of furniture too may be acceptable then."

. . .

This argument was irresistible.  It gave to his intentions whatever of decision was wanting before; and he finally resolved, that it would be absolutely unnecessary, if not highly indecorous, to do more for the widow and children of his father than such kind of neighborly acts as his own wife pointed out.

Beethoven!

Gary Oldman apparently decided to reprise his famous role in The Professional while giving an interview to Playboy -- this time in words, rather than with a shotgun.

Well, I hear the hangovers get worse as you get older. Twenty years ago, blow apart a whole family on the silver screen, nobody bats an eye. Now, speak some disapproved words....

Musical question

I liked an instrumental song that was on the radio long ago, I'm thinking the 70s, whose name I can't recall.  I've heard that there are apps now that will let you hum a tune into your phone and get an i.d.  Pretty cool app, but either this song isn't in my memory or I couldn't produce it faithfully enough with a hum.  Then I found an app that will let me hum a tune into my laptop and see it rendered into musical notation.  Now, that is extremely handy!  It does a pretty good job of dealing with the time signatures, but it has a hard time understand where the measures are supposed to start.  Also, this song had some tricky little ornaments that I couldn't sing quickly and accurately enough.  Not daunted, I found a third site with some interactive software that let me type in notes on a staff and fiddle with the lengths of each note.  Then I could hit play and hear how it worked out.  I think you guys can go to this site and hit "play" at the bottom left and hear it, too, so I'm hoping someone will recognize it and remember the title or the artist.

Diamond stars

I'd really like to hear from James whether this is for real or kind of flaky.

Bannockburn, Day II: The Great Battle

Today we celebrate the 700th anniversary of the pivotal battle of the Bannockburn. It turned the course of the Scottish War of Independence against the English for a generation, and set the stage for Robert the Bruce to bring the Scots to full independence before his death. Out of this war would come the Declaration of Arbroath, one of the first times that a people asserted to the Pope that they would insist upon a right of elective kingship: to support the man God sent to be king only so long as he did his duty in protecting their liberty and rights, and to drive him out and choose another if he failed this duty.

The short version of this story is as follows: the English army under Edward II had to relieve Stirling Castle by a certain deadline, or the castle would surrender to the Scottish King, Robert the Bruce. This was not because the castle was starving, or being ravaged by disease. It was a gentleman's agreement to avoid the slaughter associated either with reducing the place by storm, or starving the troops. The keeper of the fortress was a gentleman, and Edward knew he was going to keep his word and surrender if not relieved. So the English army was in a hurry.

Robert the Bruce was there in force, so Edward brought heavy cavalry in large numbers, as well as infantry and longbowmen. The Scottish cavalry was not in any sense the equal to the English cavalry, as you know if you followed last night's link and read Froissart's account of the Scottish way of warfare in the period. The English army was far larger, perhaps as many as ten thousand men larger. Edward intended to force his way to the castle's relief by main strength.

Now Edward I had been a very great king, not just cunning but wise in the ways of strategy and propaganda. His son, Edward II, was not the man his father was. Robert the Bruce had been in this fight since the days of the father, and had developed a keen sense for both strategy and tactics. In addition, as last night's story of his personal combat shows, he was a knight of great personal prowess.

Yesterday's story was about how the English sought to slip a vanguard past the Scottish lines, which would have allowed them to fix the Scottish position so as to allow the English army to cross in safety, and engage the Scots in good order at a place of their choice. The vanguard was repulsed, killed, or captured. The English thus had to try to cross the Bannock Burn without that security. They were fearful about this, because it was in the midst of just such a maneuver that William Wallace had destroyed their army at the Battle of Stirling Bridge.

Edward elected to cross at night, in the hopes that the crossing might be effected before the Scots knew of it. In this he was successful, but a consequence of his success was that his army had to encamp against the river as it crossed. If they had pushed further in, to secure better ground for a stand, they might have alerted Scottish scouts.

Thus on the morning of the 24th of June, 1314, word came to Robert the Bruce that the English had crossed the river and were tightly encamped among the wetlands on the shore. The Scottish King knew his cavalry could not stand against them, but he recognized he had a substantial advantage if he could trap them in that boggy ground. So he ordered the cavalry to find and disperse the English archers, in order to cover the approach of his foot. These were arranged in a kind of infantry formation known as a schiltron, similar in concept to the later Spanish tercio but oval: a formation chiefly of spearmen, to repel cavalry in the way we saw in last night's story, but with some axemen and others who could rush out of the formation and kill downed men.

Advancing these formations to pin the English in the muck, Robert the Bruce was successfully covered in his approach by his cavalry's action against the English archers. The Scots advanced on the English camp, and it was then that Edward saw the formations suddenly stop and kneel. A friar went among them.

"Think you, will these Scots fight?" Edward had asked one of his knights a short time before.

"Ay, that will they," was the reply, "to the last."

But now, seeing them kneel, Edward cried out, "They kneel, they kneel; they ask for mercy."

"They do, my liege," was the answer, "but it is from God, and not from us."

The king ordered one of his Earls, a man he had recently accused of cowardice, to lead a charge to disperse the Scottish formations. The charge ended in the slaughter of the Earl's forces, and the Scots came on against the camp. Edward tried to deploy his longbowmen, which would have allowed him much the same effects we hope to get out of artillery today: to damage the Scottish formations' structure, but also to deny them the ability to advance over certain parts of the terrain that were under the danger of the longbows. Once more the Scottish cavalry, led by Sir Robert Keith, recognized the danger and dispersed the archers before they could form up to take action.

Edward then attempted to send his heavy cavalry, the knights who had accompanied him for this purpose. But in the narrow neck of land, made of boggy ground, the cavalry could not well come together for a charge, and could not well maneuver their heavy horses. When they came against the schiltrons, their unstable formations broke.

As the Scots advanced toward the English camp, news of the initial victories had spread back to the Scottish camp nearby. There bands of Highlanders -- irregular forces that Robert the Bruce did not wish to employ in the battle, because they would cause confusion and disorder -- heard the news that the English were being defeated, and came rushing in great numbers. The English, already discomfited, heard the warcries and saw the onrushing forces, and broke. But there was nowhere to retreat except through the river.

Edward II escaped, with the help of his picked men. He fled to Dunbar castle, where as quickly as possible he took ship for England. His retreat from the battlefield turned the English retreat into a rout. In the wake of the battle, the destruction of England's army in the north not only allowed Scottish raiders into England, but took so much pressure off Robert the Bruce that he was able to stage an invasion of Ireland, hoping to open a second front in the war on the Anglo-Norman kings.

Boom

But you know, he really does look pretty good in sunglasses.  Can't really blame the fanboys in the media.

Gospel music

It's not too early to start putting together our Christmas carol repertoire.  Tell me you can resist the idea of going door to door singing this little number in a quartet:



I've got this song on the indispensable six-CD set "Goodbye, Babylon," but it can also be found on the album "Death Might Be Your Santa Claus," available on iTunes, in case you're looking to spruce up your Christmas music collection.  Who could resist "Papa Ain't No Santa Claus (Mama Ain't No Christmas Tree"?

On a milder note:



And abandoning the carol theme altogether:



And to finish up, something to dance to:



I was going to include "Jesus Dropped the Charges," but really, the title says it all, and the music is almost a disappointment.