Roger Simon wonders if Iran isn’t on the brink of an “explosion”—which is a fair question, given today’s disheartening news from the diplomatic battlefront.  Then there’s this, from Bloomberg News: Iran today broke United Nations seals on advanced uranium enrichment equipment in the Isfahan nuclear facility, as the International Atomic Energy Agency debated a resolution calling on the government in Tehran to halt such work. “The seals were broken, and

Jeff Harrell:  “You WANT me on that bong!  You NEED me on that bong…!”* **** (h/t Bill; see also, Ace, Jawa, Mark Kleinman, JunkYard Blog) And of course, this, this, this, this, and this. **** update:  Rusty weighs in with an argument I largely agree with (I don’t, however, believe that “drugs are bad,” necessarily—I had plenty of great times in my younger days getting stoned after work, listening to

Recall Austin Bay, from “Nervous in Baghdad”: When will the media figure this out: Al Qaeda and its cohorts are strategic information powers and little else. “The terrorists have yet to win an engagement above the platoon level,” Gen. Abizaid said as we flew from Qatar to Iraq. I mean, a C-17 is loud, but the man said it with exacting clarity. Terrorist bombs are made for TV, and terrorist

From My Way News: A conservative group in Virginia said Tuesday it was withdrawing its support for Supreme Court nominee John Roberts’ confirmation because of his work helping overturn a Colorado referendum on gays. The group, Public Advocate of the United States, is one of the first conservative organizations to announce anything but support for the judge Eugene Delgaudio, the president of the group, said in an interview that he

For what it’s worth, dozens of people spontaneously combust each year. It’s just not really widely reported.

Q: Why did grieving Mom Cindy Sheehan cross the road? A: To catch Michael Moore a chicken, so that the slovenly propagandist could deep fry the thing in pancake batter and lard, then eat it with a pound of potato salad and a tray of buttered Hawaiian-styled sweet rolls.  The fat, opportunistic bastard.* (h/t John Cole) **** update:  Baaaa.  Baaa. Baaaa.  Baaa. Baaaa.  Baaa. Baaaa.  Baaa.  Baaaaa.  Baaaa.  Baaaa.  Baaaaaaaaa.

Kerouac:  “Of course I admire you as a person, baby.  But where is it written that a person I admire can’t finish dusting the shelves, then make me a nice BLT sandwich on white, toasted, with a generous layer of mayo…?”

I had planned to discuss today’s New York Times article detailing how—according to a former defense official and Republican Congressman Curt Wheldon—military intelligence had already identified the core of the Atta Al Qaeda cell (though not Atta himself) by the summer of 2000.  Fortunately, Captain Ed has already done the heavy lifting for me: The reason for the inability to share information with the FBI, information that might have led

From the ever odious Rox Populi: I admit I have a sick mind. But [The Boys From Brazil] was the first thing I thought of when I read this a few minutes ago. While I very much doubt either one of the Stepford’s [SCOTUS nominee John Roberts and his family] would run a stop sign let alone skirt adoption laws, one has to wonder why they would go to so

He’s the freakin’ President of the United States, lady.  And besides, you already met with him once before.  Jesus.  Thank Patton grieving parents and spouses of WWII soldiers killed in battle weren’t subjected to the kind of crass exploitation by anti-war opportunists Cindy Sheehan is being exposed to; the thought of some seersucker-suited aide wheeling Roosevelt door-to-door across America, hat in hand, so that he could answer to the wives