hum drum brum drum
I love Thanksgiving turkey…it’s the only time in Los Angeles that you see natural breasts.
– Arnold Schwarzenegger (A.K.A Conan the Republican, also Governer of California and perhaps one day US President?! … God Help US!)
I have as little superstition in me as any man living, but my secret opinion has ever been, and still is, that God Almighty will not give up a people to military destruction, or leave them unsupportedly to perish, who have so earnestly and so repeatedly sought to avoid the calamities of war, by every decent method which wisdom could invent. Neither have I so much of the infidel in me, as to suppose that He has relinquished the government of the world, and given us up to the care of devils; and as I do not, I cannot see on what grounds the king of Britain can look up to heaven for help against us: a common murderer, a highwayman, or a house-breaker, has as good a pretence as he.
– excerpt from The Crisis by Thomas Paine (George Washington ordered this essay be read to the troops at Valley Forge, just before the crossing of the Delaware)
Three quarters of the American population literally believe in religious miracles. The numbers who believe in the devil, in resurrection, in God doing this and that – it’s astonishing. These numbers aren’t duplicated anywhere else in the industrial world. You’d have to maybe go to mosques in Iran or do a poll among old ladies in Sicily to get numbers like this. Yet this is the American population.
One day before the 86th Anniversary of the official end of WWI (the war to end all wars they called it!) and one day after the 10th anniversery of the Berlin Wall coming down, soldiers (who’ll now never be veterans) are briefly remembered after dying in an (illegal) war in Iraq while a real ‘iron curtain’ goes up (illegally) in the Palestine.
Yeeeehaaaa!
It’s been over a year since I paid any attention to the Scoville scale, so with just a little further ado it brings me great pleasure to present Uganda’s finest Scotch Bonnet, or naga morris as we like to call them in darkest Sylhet, courtesy of my local Tesco.
Have to admit, they’re not as hot as the ones that they grow back in the ‘Desh … still had me sweating though!
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