“MERRILLVILLE, Ind. — Officials have banned pink clothing for the remainder of the school year out of concerns that the color has become associated with gang activity. Administrators last week told students at the city’s high school and two middle schools to avoid wearing pink clothing or accessories, said Michael Berta, associate superintendent in the Northwestern Indiana district. “There is no evidence of gang activity. But because of the growing

I have yet to weigh in publically on the issue of same-sex marriage, and I probably won’t start here, because I’m still thinking about it. My libertarian impulses are battling with ideas I have about the government’s role in safeguarding (and to a lesser extent promoting) established cultural paradigms — traditions, I suppose you can call them — so I reserve judgment for now, though I must say I’m leaning

Mayonnaise (and other cryptic references).

So while the baby naps, I’m going to throw in a DVD and try to fall asleep watching it. Today’s selection: The Eiger Sanction. Which reminds me: Q: What do you get when you cross John Kerry and Clint Eastwood? A: An enormously wealthy Oscar™-winning director and celebrated cultural icon who doesn’t stand a chance in hell of winning the 2004 Presidential election. Or Marty Sheen.

I’m looking to buy an external hard drive for my laptop (sorry, for my “portable desktop”) so that I can edit and store digital video files. The only problem is, I don’t know what I need. I was also thinking about running image editing software like Fireworks or Photoshop from the external drive. Advice? Recommendations? Warnings? Anyone…? And yes, I plan on making porn, so y’know, try to hurry it

…which, of course, is a lot like cheese defending a rat. Or vice versa. [via Wizbang]

A simple exercise in democracy, those Spanish elections. No more, no less. Right? Yeah. Whatever.

…The new phonebooks are here, the new phonebooks are here! Okay, not really. But still.

I have 30 of ’em. About 15 others I really should pick up. But c’mon, Nothing to Lose…? I’d rather watch Jim Treacher watching a “Mr. Show” marathon. If he’d have me, I mean.

I’ll admit, I’m obsessive about clutter. In fact, it’s gotten so I can’t get anything done until, say, loose papers on the coffee table are neatly stacked or the magazines we keep in the john are smoothed and stored chronologically in the cast-iron magrack. My wife, on the other hand, is a free-wheeling clutter mole, a beautiful hurricane of misaligned envelopes and floor-kept newspaper circulars, of clipped coupons, empty boxes,