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September 2004
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September 2004

If instead of a pampered heiress Teresa Heinz Kerry were a Ginsu knife

THK:  “What, again with the tin cans, Conchita?  Yes, fine, I can cut through a tin can and still slice a tomato effortlessly.  So what?  Is that skill really such a big deal to your people…?”

Expert cited by CBS didn’t verify papers

Michael Dobbs and Howard Kurtz, washingtonpost.com: The lead expert retained by CBS News to examine disputed memos from President Bush’s former squadron commander in the National Guard said yesterday that he examined only the late officer’s signature and made no attempt to authenticate the documents themselves. “There’s no way that I, as a document expert, can authenticate them,” Marcel Matley said in a telephone interview from San Francisco. The main

Glenn Reynolds, 2; Oliver Willis, snacking on corn dogs and touching his privates

Our Kerrypimping friend Oliver is at it again, this time dropping the mutton leg long enough to trumpet Ed Cone’s supposed smackdown of Glenn Reynolds.  Only problem is, Ed was so darned eager to land the white whale that he forgot to read the complete Michelle Malkin post that prompted him to flutter his tiny harpoon Glenn’s way in the first place.  In Ed’s defense, scrolling all the way through

“Yes, but if you were to tweak the type face manually by several pixel widths on a 1972 IBC Executive fashioned with a specialty superscript ball, you’d see conclusively that BUSH LIED!”

For those true believers still willing to mortgage their credibility on documents no more real than John Kerry’s love of baseball (“that Manny Ortez sure is a marvelous ball striker!”), take a look at this. Then go here, for the rest of today’s important Rathergate news. **** h/t LGF **** update:  fascinating post by Allah expanding on the OER / OETR acronym oddity I raised here and here (in updates

The ‘Dan Rather takes on the digital brownshirts’ poem

“It’s like somebody drove an enormous truck in through my sphincter and parked it on my aged, weary     soul. “Which, y’know—that doesn’t exactly tickle      bub…”

The semiotics of personal space

Sometimes, when I’m feeling really frisky, I like to post in nothing but thigh-high vinyl go-go boots and a spiked leather dog collar.  But then, I’ve always been something of a fashion daredevil.*

Vice presidential candidate John Edwards buys some bedroom slippers

sales clerk: “These?” Edwards:  “No, the other ones –the ones that look like cute fuzzy bunnies.  And don’t give me any of that bullshit about ‘em not coming in a size 9, because I blew through the heel of a pair just like those this morning, poor little Snowball and Peter…”

Rathergate and the postmodern turn, 2

You know a story’s become a cultural phenomenon the moment somebody brings Umberto Eco into the mix… update:  Or Nigerian email scams, for that matter… update 2:  Or even Queen of the Space unicorns…

Scenes from my driveway, continued x 36

Deadbeat neighbor:  “See that Broncos game last night?” Me:  “Yup.” Deadbeat neighbor:  “I tell ya’, there’s nothing more satisfying than crushing the Chiefs.” Me:  “I dunno. You ever spend a weekend batting around Dan Rather like an aged badminton birdie?” Deadbeat neighbor:  “I don’t follow you–” Me:  “– So tell me, is that a genuine Polo shirt you have on?  Because the closer I look at it, the more it

Those aren’t tulips you’re smelling, Danny Boy

Heh. I guess the shoes really do make the outfit. …Meantime, Dan, when you’re finished with that, howsabout using a different digit to plug Terry Mcauliffe’s pie hole… **** (h/t SondraK; h/t Gerard Van der Leun)