First Post from Vallejo!

We are not completely moved, but our beds are moved, so here we are.

This post, ushering in a new era (let's call it the Solano County Era of Erik's Rants and Recipes), will be brief, since I have yet to unpack the espresso machine.

San Fermin?

Now, we all know that the recent Motu Proprio wasn't the one that everyone was expecting (but I bet a few eyes brightened when they read the phrase "restored the Traditional norms..."), and the one that has been in the rumor mill for the last two years is due to come out on July 7.

July 7. Now, that date rings a bell.

Ah yesssss, San Fermin, and the running of the bulls in Pamplona.

I betcha that this Motu Proprio will put the feast of San Fermin on the Roman Calendar, thus making it a feast day for the Universal Church.

I will make the sangria, you bring the bulls.

Hungry?

I hate the things alive, but I would try it.

I have never been a member of either party, see eye to eye with neither of them, and here is some evidence:

You Are 28% Republican

You're a bit Republican, and probably more conservative than you realize. If you're still voting Democrat, maybe it's time that you stop.

And, of course:

You Are 24% Democrat

You're a bit Democrat, and probably more liberal than you realize. If you're still voting Republican, maybe it's time that you stop.

Allright, I will continue to vote for neither.

So, in the Keilholtz Dictatorship, there will probably be four percent more Democrats than Republicans in the Work Camps. Think about that when you register.

Speaking of registering, I have to do that. Sayonara, Alameda County! For the first time in my life I will be a resident of Solano County. I will also be living on the other side of the Sacramento River (egads! The same side as Yolo County, where the notorious Davis, California is found). Oh well, we were married in Yolo County (but not in Davis, yuck! Rather in Clarksberg - a Portuguese farming town).

And the Move...

The move continues. This morning has been consumed with bureaucracy (30 minutes (!) with the phone company to move my phone service, a good portion of that time dodging sales pitches, 20 minutes with the utilities, etc.), which is inevitable, even though it can be maddening. So now a little lunch break, and the driving resumes.

Doing it in one fell swoop is more stressful, but I am thinking that it is good to just get it over with at once.

The Truth is...

I don't really like New York. Well, I do, but I don't at the same time. It is complex. New York is fun. New York gets some things very right. It would even be fun to live there, provided one had the means to enjoy what it has to offer. New York is also a very bad influence on the rest of American culture at just about every level. And New York gets some things very wrong.

In a way, New York is a lot like the Bay Area.

So...

You Are 64% NYC

You are probably a real New Yorker, though there's a good chance you really live on Long Island.

Old Testament Parenting

I am in the thick of moving. So, go entertain yourself with this very funny post at Happy Catholic. I have read it before, but I still laugh out loud.

Five dogs!

People who are overly sensitive to noise should live in isolation. Ditto people who are sent into shock with the slightest whiff of fragrance or smoke or whatnot.

People with five dogs, as the bitchy neighbor who brought charges against a family whose 5 and 11 year old girls were making too much noise at the pool, should be put in isolation, preferably with sleeveless jackets.

The sound of children playing is the sound that should be heard in areas where people live.

On the Topic of Homosexual Pride...

Well, not completely, as the case I am blogging about is definitely one of heterosexual folks, but pride is certainly the issue.

Kathy Shaidle, in her huffy emotion-driven retreat from the sacraments, informs us that she is smarter than the officials of the Roman Catholic Church, whom she derides as "Eurotrash". Unfortunately she then goes on to prove that she isn't, although her regular readers have suspected this for a long time. One doesn't read Kathy Shaidle so much as to be informed, as to be amused.

It is similar to watching a dwarf bullfight: one does not go expecting great work with a bull, rather one goes looking for the grotesque. And eventually one stops going, when one realizes that the whole thing is a bit repugnant. Eventually I will probably stop reading her, as I have finally stopped reading Maureen Dowd, but I continue to be fascinated with this sort of Tory Rosie O'Donnell routine (a sort of poor man's Ann Coulter). All emotion, little thought, and funny as hell, when it doesn't seem like pissing on the front porch and expecting rewards.

More often than not I agree with Shaidle, as I often do with Coulter. She preens herself on what a good writer she is (look! she won a prize from the government, a government she claims to despise, and a government that will give her the blessing she wants for her marriage, hell, they will bless anything, men and men, dogs and cats, whatever. Why let a prior marriage get in the way?), which is unsavory to say the least, particularly when she is only slightly above average, but is generally entertaining.

However, I have a pretty strict policy: no ex-Catholics will have regular links on my blog, even semi-Catholic ones. To knowingly and willingly put yourself in an excommunicant state is even worse when you realize what it is that you are rejecting.

No, Kathy, you are not smart, not at all.

Jose Tomas

As many of you know, Jose Tomas made his first appearance in quite awhile last week in the Plaza Monumental de Barcelona.

For my long time readers, this plaza will ring a bell as the place where I fell in love with bullfighting when I was twelve years old. Followers of recent history, of course, will also know Barcelona as being the epicenter of an obnoxious bunch of twits who want to prove what wonderfully modern and French SOBs they are, and thus the bullfight has been under consistant attack from the sort of folks who advocate obscene acts among members of the same sex.

I tell you this: bullfighting (along with smoking tobacco, eating meat, and drinking espresso) is one of the canaries in the mine of Western Civilization. When they manage to eliminate one of these things, trouble is right on its way. If they manage to eliminate all of these, oil your guns, because Western Civilization is over faster than you can say "Atilla the Vegetarian Anti-Smoking Activist".

So, in the meanwhile, enjoy this glimpse of one of the purest and most beautiful acts in Western Civilization:

Others might follow, but I don't have time to preview the other footage from 10. July.

Two Edged Sword

No the democratic ideal could not have originated in a Catholic system, and this should give people pause as to how ideal it is.

St. Francis of Madrid, Pray for Us!

Turks!

God forbid! It turns out our ancestors were from Anatolia. Now, they left well before the Turkic people came in, so we are not really Turks, but closer to Greeks, and we already knew that. And, a little bit of irony for those of you familiar with mythologized Italian history, a rather famous city in that part of the world also sent some refugees to our fair peninsula, and the blending of their blood with Etruscan and other Italic tribes gave birth to the greatest nation on the planet so far.

Last time we were back in Tuscany I had a great time drawing the sarcophagi of the Etruscans. There were a couple that really looked like relatives. So much so, that I decided that I want to be buried in an Etruscan marble box, complete with my statue reclining on the lid, raising a toast with a rather relaxed look on my face.

Recipes for Moving Days

The title of this post is the Google search that led someone to this site.

Let me offer three:

1. Order out for Pizza (delivery of course)

2. Take out Chinese

3. Taqueria

Otherwise, look, your kitchen is in boxes. You don't want to create clutter nor anything that needs cleaning. Just get something fast, cheap and easy. Chances are there is a taqueria near you that sells good food cheaper than you can buy the raw ingredients. Take advantage of that. Be sure to get cold beer, too. You will want that.

Torn!

Ack! This image kills me.

On the one hand, what they are doing is something I think should be done, just that it should be done by Germans and not towelheads. In this battle, the English have to be on our side and we on theirs.

Es tut mir Leid.

England. Mohammedans.
England. Mohammedans.
England. Mohammedans.

Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.

David Lambert

David Lambert would have been 90 today.

First clip is bad animation, but the music is first rate (from Lambert, Hendricks, and Ross's Everybody's Boppin'

Here they are doing "Cloudburst":

And here are Jon Hendricks and David Lambert post Annie Ross, performing as Lambert Hendricks and Bavan (note that this one has actual footage):

This one is some great footage of LHR, but they have disabled embedding, so you have to go to the YouTube site to see it (and it is worth it):

Here! For some great singing.

Oh Yeah...

I forgot to mention that, for the first time ever, I am blogging in my PJ's. Since our apartment is basically a basement, I think I have moved into a certain demographic.

Am I supposed to start ranting about the Clintons now?

The Move Begins!

Yesterday we got the keys and today we started, ever so slightly, to move our stuff to the new house in Vallejo.

I have done the big moving day thing before. I hate it. We have a couple of weeks to do this, and I am planning on doing one trip a day and leaving the big stuff (beds, couch, etc.) for one big day.

Will it be better or will it just prolong the misery? Ask me in July.

So far we are still very excited about the move. The house is bigger, in a better neighborhood, and it is closer to my parents' house by about forty-five minutes. Vallejo is a bit remote from a lot of the stuff we love about the Bay Area, but not as bad as it seems. We realized that a big part of the feeling of distance has to do with crossing a bridge. If we had moved out the other direction, we would probably not have thought of it as all that far.

Anyway, since this is a "low impact moving event" (ha ha hahahahahaha), blogging should continue, and I will get those photo-essays of Las Vegas posted. I promise!

I'm a Dork

So, my dinner will be ready in a few minutes, and I might forget to post something afterwards.

Why does it matter?

Because I am trying to make a cool pattern on the calendar on the blog. I have to post something today to keep the pattern.

I told you it was dorky.

Maybe something better later, maybe after midnight. Maybe not.

Pray for this Little Girl's Conversion

If this girl were to convert to the True Faith, it could drive a dagger into the heart of one of the more vicious forms of Paganism. Rather than being an ambassador for falsehood she could be a witness to Truth.

St Francis Xavier, Pray for us!

Some Lunchtime Reading on Immigration

Via Don Jim is this article on the cost of an immigrant, particularly a low-wage Mexican immigrant.

Of course the anti-immigration crowd is a slippery one. When they aren't snarling over the genetic unfitness of Mexicans or the linguistic inferiority of Castillian (hah!), they are weeping big tears over the fact that more immigration lowers the wages of the black folks, or that immigration is bad because it makes the immigrant work for low wages (!).

Anti-immigrant types: Go back to Ireland.

Those Canadians

I am beginning to wonder whether or not the Canadian "conservatives" are as bad as the typical Canadian (the Canadian liberal). Is is just me, or is there something rather odd about a Canadian who seems obsessed with American immigration policy?

As I have said before, I am all in favor of keeping out Canadians. They are nothing but trouble, whether they are Neil Young or The Latest Neocon. So, my dear readers from the Frozen North, if our immigration policy bugs you, then let me be the first to invite you to stay home. I would take a million Mexicans over a single Canadian (OK, unless said Canadian is Oscar Peterson (who has American ancestry) or Diana Krall).

I know it is cold up there, but you can always make a bonfire of crappy Canadian literature (start with Maggie Atwood), and sit around sipping crappy Canadian beer and singing crappy Canadian music.

If we ever we do the sensible thing and invade Canada to exploit its natural resources and to prevent them from giving all the land back to the savages, I will be the first to enlist.

Radishes...

Alicia is looking for uses for radishes. This is a good questions. I generally eat them just straight (they make a great accompaniment to chilled Austrian Gruner Veltliner wine), or slice them into thin rounds to go in salad. Also, finely diced, they make a good addition to a taco.

I have had them, again, thinly sliced, as an interesting and pleasing pizza topping. They are good as a garnish to shrimp cocktail. The thin slices might also be fried in a tempura and served with similarly prepared fried slices of lemon (paper thin rounds, zest, pith and pulp) and deep fried anchovy stuffed green olives. At that point, you might as well add some deep fried calamari. Yum!

You could do a pasta with radish slices and thin strips of rare beefsteak and fresh tomatoes. Garnish with California Dried Jack cheese.

If anyone else has any radish ideas, please post them in the comments!

Life in the Dictatorship

Fortunately, there will be no prohibition on ex post facto laws in the Keilholtz Dictatorship. If one has done something abominable, one will face consequences, whether or not someone during the Feeble Democracy Era bothered to write it down correctly or not.

So, this judge had better fight tooth and nail to prevent the Keilholtz Dictatorship from happening, because the day after we come to power, this guy is going to prison for the rest of his life. Hard labor, too.

Happy Feast of St. Anthony!

If you are in the Bay Area, come to the Traditional Latin Mass at St. Margaret Mary's in Oakland at 6pm.

Noted Quack is still...well...a quack!

Someone asks Deepak Chopra whether or not they should listen to an astrologer. Instead of saying what any intelligent, educated MD ought to have said, which is, "no, that stuff is hogwash at best," he talks about the "right" and wrong uses of astrological nonsense.

I have always held that believers in horoscopes are among the lowest wits in the book. Their popularity (sure, plenty of people claim they are skeptics, but if such is their skepticism we are in trouble), as attested to by the frequency of still finding the things in daily newspapers, is a dim sign for our culture.

Deepak ought to be stripped of his medical license, tarred, feathered, and deported. Along with all of his Boomer following.

Happy Feast Day!

I know, it is almost the end of the feast, and, really, it belongs on Thursday anyway, but, better late than never.

Right now, we are in the midst of preparing for the Feast of St. Anthony, which is Wednesday.

In other news, Amalia had her annual dance recital this afternoon, and we were quite proud of her. She was given the front center position, and did a great job. She is probably not destined for fame as a ballerina due to her Portuguese/Teutonic build, but she was fantastic.

Part of the relocation is going to be finding a good ballet school for her. Princesses need to have a good ballet school, at least that is what ours tells us.

Things that don't bother me...

I love Jeff's list. I echo it, except that vegetarians (at least the millitant ones) and Thomas Kinkade's paintings (not the man himself, whom I have never met) do bother me.

As for Dick Cheney, there are certain aspects of his ideas that bother me, but I have a feeling I would get along with him quite well if I ever met the man.

Pesticides, too, have their place, although I think that many farmers would be in better economic situations if they minimized or eliminated their use, as there are more economical ways of pest management.

I am especially not bothered by the smell of dairy farms. To me it means that I am in close proximity to Portuguese or Italians, and that there might be a bullfight in the immediate future.

The Harmful Effects of Certain Types of Music on Writers of Fiction

There are times when I think that people who listen to certain bands, certain sub-genres of music, perhaps even some whole genres of music, should be forbidden from writing fiction.

Now, I am not going to actually say which bands, which singers, which sub-genres, which composers etc., but I have noticed that there are certain musicians who always seem to be quoted and referenced by some of the most maudlin fiction writers out there.

Yeah, more work. Blah blah blah.

I know, I keep saying, "oh, not tonight, dear....reader...I have work to do!"

And it is partly a lie, since, yes, I have been busy with work, but there are also those other things that eat up time: grilling and taking advantage of little moments of pleasant weather outdoors and so forth.

Tomorrow should be a little better, and I will post some photos.

Who knows, after my night time espresso, I might even find the energy to do it tonight. We'll see about that.

Meanwhile, have I ever mentioned how much I love cherries?

Amazing things. Not the Raniers, but the plump, firm, sweet and slightly tart bing.

Catering Proposal Due...Other Work Bekons

I have come back to a mountain of work, including a catering proposal that is insane, yet, so much fun. Of course with moving looming, it can all be very daunting. I still will get to that photo essay of Las Vegas.

Meanwhile, I am listening to Flaco Jimenez and a strange, yet excellent collection of Portuguese neo-folk stuff, editing some texts, and pretending that it is hot and that I am in Texas or the Central Valley or somewhere that isn't cold and windy. Bah. Bay Area weather stinks in the summer.

So, the bulk of this proposal will be done tomorrow morning, the editing will be done tonight, and I should be able to start editing photos. I took a lot, deleted half of them, and want to push the others into some sort of organized form, and then to add some text on the phenomenon of Las Vegas.

When the Cat's Away, the Mice will Play!

I am home, and, no, I did not start painting Yoda on black velvet, I do not listen to Babs Strsnd, nor to The Captain and Tenille (yuck, yuck, double yuck). I do not object to "Ebony and Ivory", however, and I do generally give Glen Gould an exemption to my vehement hatred for Bach played on the piano.

And I still maintain that Augusto Pinochet was the best thing that ever happened to Chile.

So, who led you to believe otherwise? A cell of infiltrators, headed by the lovely Melanie. Can you believe it?

Anyway, I am back, and I have plenty to write about the bizarre city that is Las Vegas. Plenty.

I also have some good photos, and will post a photolog of my trip by the weekend, if not sooner.

And the big news is that we are moving to Vallejo. An opportunity came up for a bigger house in a better neighborhood, accross the street from some friends. I have mixed feelings, as I have been in love with Oakland since the mid-1980's, but things have been a little rough between us recently.

You see, there is this matter of electing that evil twit Ron Dellums as mayor. I can forgive a lot, but voting for Dellums just shows a particular stupidity that is stuck in 1967. Somewhere in Montclair, a village has lost it's idiot. He's not my mayor. Don't blame me, I voted for De La Fuente.

There was a time when the left was a little smarter, when it could actually follow an argument, but that time is gone. It simply suffices for them to congratulate each other on how smart they are, and they get dumber and dumber. We live in an era when the difference between "it is", "I think", and "I feel" are considered insignificant, if they are seen to exist at all. The East Bay leftist is an imbecile, ready to jump on whatever cause Central Planning points to.

There is an excellent little grocery store near us that has been under attack by the union. They let their employees vote, the employees voted against the union, but the union will not let up. The other day they were picketing. I saw several people walk up, be told that "this is an anti-Union store" and turn away. Not to ask for more details, not to find out what the store's management has to say. The Left says it, I believe it, that settles it, and thank God we are not like those bigoted right wing fundamentalists who cannot think for themselves.

I have gotten to the point where I simply cannot stand liberals. Once in awhile you can find one who actually understands his position and can defend it beyond the use of misquotes and misapplied sayings (often ripped straight from bumper stickers), but these sorts are an increasingly rare breed.

"Why do you quote Chomsky on this matter? Has he studied it?"

"Noam Chomsky," she replies indignantly, "is one of the biggest geniuses in academia."

"Sure, he knows linguistics, but he is playing fast and loose with concepts in politics that he doesn't seem to fully grasp, and why are you accepting his basic philosophical premises anyway?"

-The look of an offended leftist, looking for all the world like I called her grandmother a toad.

I am sick of people who worry about their carbon footprint.

And I loathe and detest vegetarians. All of them. There was a time when I tolerated them and even numbered some of them among my friends. No more. They get stiff cordiality and a patronizing smile that says, "yes, run along, Boomer, I have friends my own age." And yet, not a one has ever caught on. Lack of animal protein turns you into a carrot. Be warned!

Speaking of Boomers, anyone who gloms on to Chinese philosophy is a fool, yoga is creepy, animals have no rights, Lenny Bruce was not that funny, the Beetles were not that talented, smoking tobacco in moderation is good, homosex is never good, marihuana makes you stupid, every last Volvo ought to be melted down, and...you people voted for Carter! Carter! Carter! For shame!

Not all Oaklanders are stupid leftist boomer clones, but that sector fo the public has gotten more and more self-satisfied. The being wrong I can live with, it's the smugness I can do without.

Sayonara, Dellums-voting twits.

And then there is the murder rate. I understand the concept that is cynically called by cops "public service killings" in which one gangster offs another, saving the public sector the hassle. But, Oakland goes beyond that.

Last week, a fellow was gunned down and killed four blocks from us. A few weeks before that, there was a SWAT action in our neighborhood. Last year, I was held up at gunpoint on my front stoop. I am more than done with this, and I am afraid that much more will turn me into a wild-eyed vigilante, heavily armed and ready to shoot anything with the wrong hairstyle or baggy pants. This, in and of itself, is probably not a bad thing. However, with Jerry Brown as AG, I wouldn't stand a chance in our justice system.

It is not that Vallejo is without problems. After all, the utterly insipid form of "music" called hy-fi was invented there. Think of hip hop uttered by kids too retarded to make up halfway clever rhymes.

And, it is Jeff Gordon's hometown.

So, no, we are not escaping into the walled security of suburbia, although the neighborhood we are moving to is much better and with a lower crime rate than what has crept into our neighborhood recently.

There are still things to love about Oakland: the parks, the waterfront, the domestic architecture.

And there is Amalia's school, which we are really happy with (and a public school to boot!). The Vallejo school district is wretched. We will probably have to figure out some way of getting an inter-district transfer (we have a couple of secret tricks in that deparment), or will have to send Amalia to Catholic school.

Whatever we do, I am sure that we will miss Crocker Highlands Elementary. Kindergarten has been a great experience for Amalia.

In other news, Melanie is singing again, which is always a good thing, and our new place will have room for a harpsichord.

New Direction in My Painting

Vegas is great! Inspired by the place, my art has taken on a new direction:

The hero of Chile

I'd like to take the chance to speak about a great man, a hero to the
people, a man who brought justice and hope to the people of Chile, a man whose memory I deeply venerate.

I speak, of course, of President Salvador Allende.

Words cannot express how much this man and his legacy has meant to my
life, how "La vía chilena al socialismo" has inspired my own thinking on true equity in human society, how the nationalization of property he so courageously undertook is the path to real human freedom. I still weep for the cruel coup d'etat that ended his reign, and I curse the memory of that thug who replaced him.

That is why, whenever I have a glass of Chilean wine, I always preface it with a toast: "Viva Allende!"

ipod random 10

I recently added many of my all time favorites to my ipod. So, rather than boring you with more Iberian music listings, I’ve taken this list from my favorites list.

1. Feelings – Albert Morris
2. Bach Fugue in A minor: Piano Concertos conducted by Bernstein
3. Closer to Fine – Indigo Girls
4. Ice, Ice Baby – Vanilla Ice
5. Ebony and Ivory – Paul McCartney ,Stevie Wonder
6. Disco Duck – Rick Dees
7. We build this City – Starship
8. Muskrat Love - Captain and Tennille
9. No more tears (enough is enough) - Babs S. & Donna Summers
10. Bach Fugue in F minor: Piano Concertos conducted by Bernstein

I’ve come to realize I prefer Bach played on the piano – go figure.