Where is Smallholder?

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader hopes to blog some tonight. But in the meanwhile one should ask: Where is the Smallholder? The blogosphere wonders.

Carry on.

Deaths

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader hasn’t been too prolix over the past few days. He’s still fighting off winter cold (which is a persistent low-grade feeling of ickyness); and has had other things come up.

Among the other things is snow. Snow around the Villainschloss has closed the schools and that means that Mrs. Villain and the Villainettes have been around more; and you Maximum Leader has been spending time with them.

Also a friend of your Maximum Leader’s died last Wednesday night. He found out on Thursday. He attened various wake/funeral events on Friday and Saturday. As if loosing a friend to cancer wasn’t enough; your Maximum Leader was telephoned yesterday by his revered mother yesterday. She informed him that one of his great uncles had died (old age) on Thursday as well.

Your Maximum Leader’s friend lived outside Richmond, VA, which is close; but still something of a drive. His great uncle lived in California, but his remains are being flown here to be buried at the national cemetary at Quantico, VA. Which is interesting. Uncle Bob’s wife (Martha) was buried at their church near their home in Pasadena, CA. But Uncle Bob is being buried among his brother Marines in Quantico. Your Maximum Leader finds that somewhat odd. Not that one would want to be buried among your fellow soliders, but that you would want to be buried so far from your spouse.

Carry on.

Egocasting

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader, occasionally, reads something that really makes his mind churn. After seeing a blog entry on Galley Slaves he went and read all of Christine Rosen’s article entitled: The Age of Egocasting by Christine Rosen (from the New Atlantis).

Read it. See if it provokes the same response.

Carry on.

Shine Out, Fair Sun, Till I Have Bought A Glass…

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader was called out yesterday afternoon by Christina of Feisty Repartee. The feisty Christina desired that your Maximum Leader cmment on the question posed in this post.

What does a man do to himself to make him feel confident and sexy?

Well…

Allow you Maximum Leader to go on the record now. He is DEAD SEXY! Indeed, he must cloister himself in the Villainschloss to avoid the throngs of women who contantly offer themselves to him for carnal pleasuring…

Okay… That may be overstating it a little bit. Your Maximum Leader is remarkably average looking and doesn’t believe that he is particularly “sexy.” To be quite honest, your Maximum Leader doesn’t believe that he has ever done anything special to make himself feel confident and sexy.

He will say that he does cut a dashing figure in his tuxedo or in one of his favourite Brooks Brothers Suits. But he also thinks he looks pretty good in his kilt too. (Mrs. Villain says your Maximum Leader’s legs are not too shabby.) A well-tailored suit can cover many flaws of nature. (Whereas an ill-tailored suit will accentuate the negatives.) If your Maximum Leader would say that the is probably at his sexiest in a suit/tuxedo.

Excurus: Allow your Maximum Leader to heap praise on the kilt. For those of you of Scottish/Irish/Greek extraction, you really ought to investigate wearing a kilt. They are wonderful. They aren’t confining. They allow circulation of air to places that are better off for being airated periodically. They make going to the bathroom quite easy. And, you’re always ready to “lift a leg on” a bonnie lass if the opportunity should present itself. The kilt is a great article of clothing…

Perhaps your Maximum Leader might feel a little more sexy and confident when dressed in a suit or tuxedo. But really, for a man sexiness and confidence are a matter of poise and bearing. They are not outwardly appointed things. One can learn to carry themselves in a way that excudes confidence and a certain self-assurance (sexy) that is independent of clothing or objects.

When your Maximum Leader is feeling sort of low, he likes to withdraw with a good book and read. Or sometimes play a game of Total War on the easy setting (and use cheat codes) to really beat up on the computer. And he sometimes will cook really elaborate meals for the family as a pick-me-up.

Upon reflection, Christina’s question is harder to answer than your Maximum Leader thought. Because (as has been observed by various commentors), men and women respond differently to very concepts of confident and sexy. Perhaps this is hard-wired in our genes, perhaps it is socialized. (Thanks Larry Summers!) He doesn’t know.

As for what makes a woman sexy… Your Maximum Leader is not a big frilly knickers type of guy. A tee-shirt and boxers are pretty damned sexy. For “normal” wear, your Maximum Leader thinks sundresses are pretty sexy. And because your Maximum Leader likes some hips on a woman, something that accentuates the curves of a woman is very sexy. (Sarongs pop into his mind - but that is not the only thing.) The woman who is comfortable in her own skin is sexy - regardless of what she is wearing.

He could go on. But he thinks he’ll wrap up here. He’s still not quite up to snuff…

Carry on.

A Tale To Warm The Heart Of The Smallholder.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader may mock the Smallholder for being squishy and unable to kill vermin. But he does run a really eco-friendly farm. Indeed, your Maximum Leader was recently talking to a retired Agricultural Extension agent concerning some of the Smallholder’s farming practices. The agent was quite impressed.

Well, something you’ll never hear about on the Smallholder’s farm is a giant manure pile spontaneously combusting.

Nope. Just wont happen. (Just like killin’ varmints wont happen either if they’ve been trapped.)

Carry on.

Update on Squishy Smallholder

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader (who still doesn’t feel too great and is going to see a doctor today) knows that as he writes this a vermin racoon is on the loose in Albemarle County, Virginia. The wretched ‘coon was trapped and held by our very own Smallholder. But he couldn’t finish the job.

It is a sad day when farmers in our great republic don’t kill vermin; but rather trap them and release them in resort areas where they can feast on garbage and make a nuisance for all decent people.

Harumph.

Carry on.

To The Squishy Smallholder

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader is still not feeling quite up to snuff. He’s been trying to take it easy and feel better. (NB: Minion Molly wrote to say she is not well either. Hummm… Coincidence? Or evidence of illicit dalliances across the ether?… Probably coincidence. It’s that time of year.)

Anyho…

The Smallholder asks, below, wht should be the fate of the trapped racoon. Here are a few suggestions.

In the style of your Maximum Leader: Shoot it. Drag it out and shoot it. Allow its body to bloat in the sun as an example to all other uppity racoons lest they get ideas.

In the style of Winston Churchill: Shoot it. But don’t waste time. Just walk right up and shoot the bloody thing. Of course, don’t be rude either. When killing a racoon it costs one nothing to be polite.

In the style of the Joseph Stalin: Shoot it. Walk up and POW! One round in the back of the head. Note to self: invoice the racoon’s family for the bullet.

In the style of the John F. Kerry: Examine your options carefully. Don’t be too hasty in starting an ill-concieved war against this particular rodent when you know the deer are your real enemy. Don’t be distracted by the racoon. Go after the deer! Or then again, don’t go after the deer. Perhaps you SHOULD go after the racoon. Aw hell… Who cares. I voted in favour of authorizing the Smallholder to use force anyway… But I am not going to vote to fund a replacement bullet! Not till all the farmers in France agree with killing the racoon.

In the style of Professor Burgess-Jackson: You have an obligation to minimize the suffering of the racoon. You are keeping it trapped and probably mistreating it by with-holding food and water. The racoon is a moral agent and entitled to fair treatment, as such, by you. Release the racoon.

In the style of Cletus from the Simpsons: Shoot it. Then skin it. Then cook it. ‘Coons make good eatin’.

There you have it… The preponderence is for shooting. Of course, if you don’t want to waste the bullet. You do still have your Maximum Leader’s machete…

Carry on.

send it into the void

The Smallholder asks for opinions re: what to do about the raccoon he caught (see the post below this one). My take:

Just do the fucker in.

Sounds like you don’t have much of a choice. Why prolong his suffering?

Got any Teflon-coated rounds? Might prevent ricochet. Heh.

There’s also the option of putting the raccoon into a bag, then shooting the bag full of holes. This solves, more or less, the “moving target” problem. It might also solve the ricochet problem if you’ve placed the bag on the ground and are basically firing into the ground (from a distance, of course).

Or fill the bag with rocks and let that puppy sink to the bottom of a lake or river. It’s all over in a few short minutes.

Or put the raccoon in a bag and apply a sledgehammer to your dilemma. The bag solves, more or less, the problem of splatter.

Or wrap the animal tightly enough that squirming is minimal, replace the sledgehammer with an axe, and make sure your aim is true, O Executioner. Hit that spinal cord as hard as you can. Whether you actually slice through the cord or merely smash it, you want the raccoon dead in a single blow.

Assuming the above options gall you… if there’s a research lab in need of a raccoon, you could always donate the animal to it.

UPDATE: I originally wrote “Kevlar-coated” when I meant “Teflon-coated.” Yikes.

_

Reader Input Needed

I trapped a raccon last night.

He and his mate have been sneaking into my barn and trying to get into the winter chicken quarters. Luckily, my father and I are notorious for overbuilding things and they were not able to immediately break in, though they did manage to start working wire staples loose on the door.

I know that I should kill the raccoon.

In the heat of the moment I’d have no problem blowing him away. But once he’s trapped it seems so, well, coldblooded.

I sense my father’s dissapointment. He and my uncle could not understand why I could not shoot the neighbors dog when it went after my poultry. Intellectually I have no problem - I have a moral obligation to protect my livestock, as well as a financial obligation to my family. But, I have to confess, I may be a bit squishy when it comes to doing the actual deed.

I cannot move the raccoon somewhere else - it is illegal to transport raccoons in the state of Virginia (for good reason - the spread of disease between raccoon subpopulations AND I’d simply be exporting my problem to someone else). The animal control people say to just kill it.

I can’t shoot it - I don’t want to ding up the cage and a ricochet at close range might be a possibility - I only shoot at things at a good distance. If I let it out first, I’ll have to shoot at a moving target, which makes me nervous. I like to take my time when preparing to loose a round.

So, given that releasing the animal locally is not an option,

And moving him is not an option,

What should I do with him?

You have until 5:30 to e-mail me. Then I go home, and lacking a better alternative, do him in.

Calling Major Kilgore

Standing there alone
The blog is waiting
Personal life is slow
“Are you sure?”
Sadie is not convinced
But the celibacy watch
Has the evidence
No need to reset
The counter counts on

Waiting impatiently
His readers are anxious
Nothing is posted
Blogger’s working
Trying not to whine
Out in the blogosphere
“He’s probably on a date
With a big-nosed woman”
But still no posts
The counter counts on

Anyone else miss Kilgore?

Well, I have a confession to make.

It is my fault that he is not posting.

He’s working for Sweet Seasons Farm.

I’m getting pretty good at this farming thing. But I hate the business end. I have sold 10 of my 16 sides of beef. But I have only received two deposits. Am I supposed to start calling people again? I hate calling people up and talking business. I’m not an extrovert like the Maximum Leader.

So I decided that I need a shylock.

But, upon reconsideration, perhaps breaking knees is not the ideal way to ensure repeat patronage. What I really need is an accounts receivable clerk.

So I hired Kilgore.

So anyone who misses ol’ Kilgore’s witty irreverence can blame me.

UPDATE: Upon re-reconsideration, I do need to send a shylock to the Maximum Leader. He definitely needs his knees broken. Or will that get me purged?

Illness and Death

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader thinks he is coming down with something. So he will take it easy today and post little to nothing at all. But before he goes…

Isn’t there an odd irony to the passing Sandra Dee and the suicide of Hunter S. Thompson?

It seems very odd indeed that these two should be joined in the obituaries on the same day.

Carry on.

Minion Mailbag, February 19th Edition

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader, with great relish, dips into the minion mailbag once again…

Our first writer is one Mr. Michael L. Scarlett. Mr. Scarlett writes:

stop using GD!!!

Okay…

Humm…

Let your Maximum Leader go on the record here. He is not sure what this GD is that he is using. Of course, Mr. Scarlett could be refering to something the Smallholder has written. But in that instance, your Maximum Leader still doesn’t know what the GD is that is being used.

At first your Maximum Leader thought Mr. Scarlett was referring the invocation of God. Perhaps Mr. Scarlett is of a funadmentalist yoke who prefers not to render the word God. (In the case of most people your Maximum Leader knows like this they are prone to write G-D.) But, your Maximum Leader did a little reviewing of ye olde blogge and didn’t see where God was invoked anytime recently.

So, allow your Maximum Leader to just state on the record, he doesn’t know what the GD is that he (or Smallholder) were using. Thus, he will continue to use GD with impunity. If Mr. Scarlett cares to follow-up and explain himself more. Well that is just fine. We’re all about dialogue here at Nakedvillainy. Unless that dialogue conflicts with the whim of your Maximum Leader. In which case we’re all about firing squads here at Nakedvillainy.

And we got a very fine note from our loyal reader and West-Coast minion, Brian of Memento Moron. Brian writes (about your Maximum Leader’s recent inquiry concerning dual citizenship):

Point of information: You CAN hold dual citizenship with one of them being US. Babies born overseas to American parents qualify, and I believe there’s also an exception for US and Israeli citizenship, but I’m not sure exactly how it works.

Brian’s note is interesting. As your Maximum Leader stated before, he was under the impression that as far as the US was concerned you either were a citizen or you were not a citizen. (And frankly, the way some courts are deciding cases concerning driving licenses, and social services one wonders if there really is a substantive difference any mor.) To try and clarify, you might hold citizenship in another country; but to Uncle Sam you are an American.

This leads to an interesting point in the case of the aforementioned Ms. Morissette. When you become a US citizen by choice (naturalized) aren’t you required anymore to renounce your past loyalties (those of your birth)? Shouldn’t you do so anyway just to make a good impression?

Obviously not. Since Ms. Morissette appears to still be proudly Canadian.

Excursus - Doesn’t the word “proud” seem a little strong before the appelation “Canadian.” Wouldn’t something like “happily” or “gratefully” or “contentedly” work better. Canada hasn’t been flexing a lot of muscle lately on the world scene and “proud” denotes a certain manner of bearing that may not jive with the pleasant demeanor of Canada or Canadians. (Skippy not withstanding.)

Humm… Your Maximum Leader supposes that it just doesn’t matter to anyone anymore what your political (as in nation-state) affiliations are.

Please note, in the MWO EVERYONE will sign (in blood - for DNA authentication) a document in which they pledge their full and complete fealty to your Maximum Leader. Those refusing will be shot. And their bodies thrown into a large pigsty. (As the Scilians might say “He sleeps with the fishes.” So we in the MWO we’ll say, “He’s hors d’oeurves for the piggies.”)

Carry on.

L and O Dream Team

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader is hopping on the meme wagon with Jonathan and Kathy. He is going to create his own Law & Order Dream Team.

But first, let your Maximum Leader second Jonathan by saying that if you want topshelf acting on TV, Law & Order is the place to go. Even some of the knock-off other shows are still outstanding TV. You know, after The Simpsons, Law & Order is the only TV show your Maximum Leader watches with anything approaching regularity.

Anyhoo… On to your Maximum Leader’s Law & Order dream team. They are: ‹drumroll›

On the Law side:

S. Epatha Merkerson

Jesse L. Martin

Mariska Hargitay

On the Order side:

Steven Hill

Sam Waterson

Carey Lowell

‹/drumroll›

That was tougher to do than your Maximum Leader thought. It wasn’t too hard to pick S. Epatha Merkerson or Sam Waterson. And for your Maximum Leader it wasn’t too hard to pick Steven Hill over Fred Thompson (a close second). But choosing the detectives was really hard. He really likes Mariska Hargitay (even though she is on a L and O franchise program). And he was getting sentimental and going to pick Jerry Orbach. But then he remembered that he also liked Paul Sorvino a bit too. (Even though Paul was only on for 2-3 years. Betcha forgot him.) But he really likes Jesse Martin a lot - and in the end made the list above Jerry and Paul.

So there you go. Two useless postings in one day.

Carry on.

And Are You Thinking Of Me When You…

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader sees that everyone’s favourite Canadian “screech-diva” (as the Big Hominid so aptly labled her once), Alanis Morissette, has become an American citizen. At least so reports the AP news wire. This has prompted some random thoughts.

First, your Maximum Leader does actually own a few Alanis Albums. (Humm… Albums? Does that term date a person?) He owns two. And some of her stuff he does enjoy when he is in the mood. But at the same time, he sometimes feels like a dirty voyeur listening to her songs. They are sometimes a little too raw and personal. Stuff your Maximum Leader would never write/sing about. (Well, it is best that your Maximum Leader not sing at all really…)

Second, Alanis is retaining her Canadian citizenship. Your Maximum Leader is too lazy right now to look this up, but he was under the impression that as far as the good ole US of A was concerned; you’re an American or you are not. We don’t recognize the whole “dual citizenship” thing. Is this really the case? If he had more time/inclination he’d start googling and reading the State Department’s web site to see what he could find. But he just isn’t that motivated.

Third, your Maximum Leader can’t decide if Alanis is hot or not. Most of the time he is inclined to say “Well, she’s cute. But…” And then other times… Well she doesn’t start your Maximum Leader’s engine at all.

Well, you’ve just wasted between 1-3 minutes of your life reading this drivel. Remember you’ll never get that time back. Hope you enjoyed it.

Carry on.

Sound Advice

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader has read about the plight of blogger Michael Bates and his blog Batesline. But of all the things he’s read about this bloggers story, the first thing he’s wanted to comment on was written by our beloved Sadie.

When faced with a legal action, or the threat of legal action if you do not cease and desist, it isbest not to rely on the well-wishes and sentiment of fellow bloggers; but rather rely on our own competent legal counsel. If Michael Bates does not plan on complying with the cease and desist request from the Tulsa World News (or whatever the paper’s name is) he needs to get himself a lawyer. If Michael Bates plans on replying to the cease and desist letter, he needs to make sure his lawyer proofs it before it is mailed/posted/whatever.

Your Maximum Leader will gleefully chide lawyers, and the legal profession. He will point out when he thinks a law is stupid, misapplied, or badly interpreted. And he will rail out against judges with whom he disagrees. But he would never ever (EVER!) move through or into a legal proceeding without counsel. Sure your Maximum Leader is a polymath of sort. He could talk his way out of a lot of things. But he would never dream of fighting a serious legal battle without a lawyer (or even better - a whole firm chocked full of ‘em).

Michael Bates, your Maximum Leader exhorts you to heed Sadie’s advice. Get a lawyer. Don’t be a fool. Our adversarial legal system (the glorious product of thousands of years of the Anglo-American tradition - or Franco-American tradition if you live in Louisiana) will treat you quite roughly if you don’t have a professional with you and the other side does.

Carry on.

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