Feral

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader, as long time readers know, is very fond of pigs. In his mind, after the dog, they are the greatest domesticated animal.

But pigs are only so domesticated. They live with a thin veneer of domesticity over their wild feral cores. You drop a piglet in the woods and in a few days you have a wild, dangerous, feral hog. Perhaps that element, when added to just how damn tasty they are, makes the pig a source of contemplation and admiration on the part of your Maximum Leader.

Wild hogs are a growing problem in agricultural areas of the US. Particularly in the South. From time to time your Maximum Leader stumbles over a good piece about the wild hog, or even a wild boar. Here is a sample of one for your reading pleasure:

He uses the chase dogs with good noses to find and pursue the hogs. Once a hog is cornered, Payne releases two bulldog-mix hounds that rush to the source of the baying chase hounds and hold the hog as Payne steps in and kills the pig, thrusting a heavy knife blade between the ribs and into the pig’s heart.

Want more? Here is the whole article.

Carry on.

Bannockburn and a convert…

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader will put you all on notice. Tomorrow is the anniversary of the Battle of Bannockburn (1314). What does this mean? Does it mean that your Maximum Leader will don his kilt and war paint and go rampaging around the Villainschloss looking for Englishmen to slay?

No. It does not mean that at all. In fact, your Maximum Leader is of Anglo-Scottish extraction - so that makes the whole Scotland v. England thing a little hard to get worked up about. His sympathies are divided.

Anyho.. From time to time loyal readers are kind enough to forward to your Maximum Leader little tidbits that they think might entertain, edify, or amuse him. Recently a loyal reader send him the text of an article he must have missed in the Sunday Times of May 28, 2006. The article, reprinted in its entirety below the fold, was about the apparent conversion of Niall Ferguson to the cause of Scottish Nationalism.

So it seems appropriate to discuss Dr. Ferguson’s conversion to the cause of Scottish Nationalism (hithertofore he was a stout Unionist) around the time of the anniversary of the battle which is widely regarded as the one that established Scottish independence from England.

According to the Time article, Ferguson says that Scotland’s “dismal” progress since devolution is what has driven him to support independence from England. Ferguson is quoted as saying

:”Devolution gives Scots the illusion of self-government but not the reality of it. The parliament is essentially a glorified council and cannot flourish while it acts as a mere channel for aid from England,” he said.

“I now find myself feeling that independence would be preferable to this halfway house we have at the moment.

“Ireland and some of the east European countries like Estonia are showing that small countries which embrace economic liberalism can thrive.”

Ouch. That sort of smarted, especially if you are a Member of the Scottish Parliament. Ferguson goes on to state that:

“There is a kind of dead hand gripping hold of Scotland at the moment and this lack of enthusiasm for market economics is causing the country to underperform economically.

“The future looks grim if, as present, Scotland maintains a demoralising gradual decline as little more than an extra bit of the north of England.”

These sentiments from Dr. Ferguson seem to be a bit more upbeat ad optimistic than his essay of January 1, 2006 when he suggested that Scotland be liquidated. A few months before Ferguson wrote:

The point is that (in the words of a mawkish song all Scotsmen know) “Those days are gone now / And in the past they must remain.”

It’s over. Over the way countries are sometimes just over. Over the way Prussia is over. Over the way Piedmont is over. Over the way the Papal States are over. Or, if you prefer, over the way General Motors will soon be over.

My modest proposal for 2006 is quite simple. The country hitherto known as Scotland should go into liquidation. The assets, such as they are, should be broken up, sold off and the proceeds (which won’t fetch much) distributed to the creditors and, if anything remains, to the shareholders.

The Scottish Parliament should be wound up and its ridiculous building turned into a multiplex cinema or a shopping mall. The Scottish Football Association should be taken over by its English counterpart and Rangers and Celtic should go where they belong, which is pretty near the bottom of the Premier League.

Well… In January Ferguson was suggesting that Scotland be liquidated, and in May he is hoping for independence. Sounds to your Maximum Leader like his January comments were those of a melancholy Scot expat who had tipped one too many before sitting down to the old word processor.

But his words of May sound a bit too optimistic. If Scots would throw off the dead weight of economic statism… If Scotland could be more like Ireland or Estonia… If, if, if…

Your Maximum Leader is not convinced that Scots actually dislike the dead weight of economic statism. Can they not look back fondly on the “Silicon Glen” days of the 1990s and say “We weren’t much different then. Why change now?” That, of course, ignores the fact that the “Silicon Glen” moved to Ireland when it left Scotland. Scotland lags behind England (and in some cases Wales) in so many areas. Education. Economic growth. Perhaps Dr. Ferguson was closer to the mark when he said that Scotland, like Prussia, is “over.”

Perhaps the reformist fires that lead to the golden age of the Scottish Enlightenment are truly gone forever Perhaps the national story of the Scots is currently writing out its final chapters.

Your Maximum Leader, for one, has not had an overall favourable opinion of Scottish (or Welsh) Nationalist movements. They have a typical left-wing quasi-socialist (if not outright) socialist bent to them. The Scottish Nationalist Party claims that they want to grow the Scottish economy and expand the scope of Scottish exports. But they also want to spend piles of money “improving” the National Health Service. They want to make life better for pensioners, which is code for more wealth transfer. The seeds of what your Maximum Leader will call traditional Smith-ian liberal economics are not being nurtured (or even planted) by the SNP.

If there was some fanciful right-of-center nationalist movement in Scotland (like the one Niall Ferguson seems to want to see) your Maximum Leader might be more worked up about it. Such a movement would want to: abandon the National Health Service; dramatically cut existing taxes on individuals and businesses; provide tax breaks for international investment in Scotland; promise to keep the monarchy (either the Windsors - or restore a Stuart - either way…); and safegaurd and promote individual liberty and property rights. But as it stands there is no such group out there…

Anyho… For those of you of Scottish ancestry (or for those of you who are Scots - or married to one) take pride in your ancestors for fighting for independence and winning it. And perhaps give a little thought to what it would mean to regain it in the future.

Carry on.
(more…)

Be my Yoko Ono

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader has gone over the gossip/celebrity web sites over the past few days and seen the pictures of the dreamy Jennifer Love Hewitt going out and getting her garbage can off the street. Many of the commentators on these photos have pointed out that the lovely, nay! dreamy, Miss Hewitt appears not to be wearing a bra. What they are not commenting upon is the sooper sekrit message she is broadcasting to your Maximum Leader. Here’s the pic:

What the dreamy Miss Hewitt is trying to say to your Maximum Leader is this: “Oh my dreamy and very manly Maximum Leader! I’m wearing this shirt to let you know that I will be your Yoko Ono. Just like the Barenaked Ladies song. You continue to stand by my decision not to pose for Playboy. You are the greatest my Maximum Leader! Call me. Please. Call.”

Photo courtesy of WWTDD.

Never fear Jennifer Love Hewitt… Your Maximum Leader will call. Just e-mail your number again…

Carry on.

The Maximum Leader and The Man

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader figured he’d do something he doesn’t often do. Blog about a pleasant interaction he had with the bureaucrats of his Federal Government. And not just any bureaucrats, but bureaucrats at the Internal Revenue Service. That’s right, your Maximum Leader’s blogging about The Man.

You see, a few months back your Maximum Leader got a letter from the Internal Revenue Service claiming that he owed Uncle Sam’s treasury money from when he filed his 2003 taxes. Your Maximum Leader went through his records and found that he had probably misfiled a one form and that was the cause of the problem. He wrote a polite letter and sent via overnight carrier the letter and copies of his tax documents to the agent at the IRS. He then made a follow-up call to the agent to ensure that the documents were recieved. They were. But the agent, at the time, hadn’t had a chance to review them. The agent said that he would call back in the next few weeks with a disposition. Well, not only did the agent call and say all was well and the mix-up now cleared up; but a letter to the same effects showed up on the exact same day in the mail.

So, in this one transaction, your Maximum Leader had a passable experience interacting with his Federal Government.

Of course, your Maximum Leader is still a retrograde Steve Forbes supporting flat-tax geek and would like to see the IRS (more or less) eliminated. But he will at least say that he had an okay experience with The Man.

Carry on.
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Geography of the Bobgrrl

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader, once again, is making a retraction/restatement. Yesterday he erroneously mentioned that our loyal reader and friend, bobgrrl (of 1 Girl 4 Martinis) was a denizen of SoCal - or Southern California.

Well, in fact she is not a SoCal resident but a CentCal resident. In fact it says as much on her blog. Well, actually it says that she is in “San Jose” - not “Central California.” Your Maximum Leader is not geographically illiterate. Indeed, he is pretty geographically literate. You just wouldn’t know that from his recent post. In point of fact, your Maximum Leader has been to San Jose a number of times. A good friend of his works there in San Jose (and lives in Belmont Woods - just about half-way between San Jose and San Francisco) so he knows a little of the area. (NB to his Central California/Bay Area friends: Hey Mike and Donna!)

So what does this geographic blunder really mean? Well, it means that your Maximum Leader suffers from a remarkable lack of editing on his blog. He doesn’t edit spelling, grammar, geography, or pretty much anything. At least most of the time. But then again, you all knew that already…

So, let it be noted for the record, the bobgrrl is in Central California. Not Southern California.

Carry on.

Heartless Pt 2

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader thanks those of you who read and commented on the Heartless post below. (NB to Bobgrrl: Your Maximum Leader had no idea that SoCal was the PCP capital of the USA. Neither did he know that PCP has some sort of retro-chic going for it…)

Anyhoo…

It appears as though federal prosecutors in Chicago are going after the gang that seems to be, get a load of this, MARKETING, it tainted heroin. Yes folks. Marketing the heroin.

Now call your Maximum Leader a little crazy (or naive) on this count, but he had no idea that drug gangs engaged in full-out marketing campaigns of their products. One would think that the product (and its desired affects) would market themselves. One might also think that given the illicit nature of the sale, one wouldn’t shop around to a) find the best stuff or b) find a deal. Really now, if your typical heroin addict new that just down the street there was some other pusher offering wholesale prices on his junk wouldn’t he just find the deal?

Anyho… The gang in question is marketing its tainted heroin as “Max Pain,” “Lethal Injection,” “Fear Factor,” “Drop Dead” and “Final Call.” Again, perhaps your Maximum Leader is crazy (or naive), but none of these product names do anything to intice him to buy. As catchy as he finds “Max Pain” that product sounds more like something your Maximum Leader would like to inflict on some terrorist than himself. And frankly, doesn’t “Lethal Injection” sound a little too much like the death penalty to want to inject it into your own arm…

Anyho… 200 dead so far from the tainted stuff. 70 in the Chicagoland area alone. It’s a start…

Carry on.

Gentlemen? Here? Heh.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader, following Robbo’s example, decided to take a quiz to see how much of a gentleman he is.


You Are 68% Gentleman


You are definitely a gentleman. You’re very considerate and you have excellent manners.
Occasionally, you slip and do something foolish… but usually no one notices!

Apparently you ought to invite Robbo out over your Maximum Leader.

Carry on.

Second most visited grave in America

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader, in rading an article on the New Orleans Times-Picayune on-line, learned something he didn’t know. Well… Learned something only if the something is true… He hasn’t done a fact check…

What is the most visited grave in the US you might ask? Easy, says your Maximum Leader. The grave of Elvis Presley at Graceland.

But what is the second most visited grave in the US? Well, your Maximum Leader (who didn’t know for sure) would guess either John F Kennedy’s grave or the Tomb of the Unknown Soliders (both at Arlington National Cemetary). He thought those would be good guesses.

They might be good guesses, but they are (apparently) wrong guesses. The second most visited grave in the US is the grave of Marie Laveau in St. Louis Cemetary Number One in New Orleans, Louisiana.

And who the hell is Marie Laveau? Why she is the patron saint of Louisiana voodoo worship.

Lookit (as the great Velociman might say), your Maximum Leader understands Elvis - who is afterall The King. But Marie Laveau? What does that say about America? Whatever it says it can’t be good.

Carry on.

UPDATE FROM YOUR MAXIMUM LEADER: Found photos of Marie Laveau’s grave, courtesy of Find A Grave. Here they are. Somehow, it looks exactly as your Maximum Leader pictured it.

REUPDATED FROM YOUR MAXIMUM LEADER: Well, how about some egg on your Maximum Leader’s face. Reader Thomas was kind enough to point out the error in your Maximum Leader’s post. Your Maximum Leader didn’t read over what he was writing (he was at the time thinking about the pasting the Chicago White Sox gave the St Louis Cardinals and had St Louis, MO on the brain) when he mistakenly put St Louis Cemetary Number One in Missouri and not Louisiana. Then he went and linked to William T Sherman’s grave in Missouri… Which by the way is here. (Still doffing the bejeweled myllan cap towards our friend Basil Seal for the tip about Sherman. Your Maximum Leader always assumed that Sherman was buried in Ohio or Arlington, VA.) So, let it be known that Marie Laveau is buried in New Orleans - NOT St. Louis. Must be time for another bourbon & coke…

Close your eyes…

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader would like to share with you an image now burned into his mind’s eye. This image comes to us courtesy of the Live Science news wire. Ready for it? Here it comes…

An Olympic-sized swimming pool filled with human sweat in 3 hours.

No. It isn’t the result of the Big Hominid climbing Namsan.

It is the residents of Phoenix, Arizona. The sweatiest city in America.

Carry on.

What does $135 buy today?

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader reads in the Washington Post that Ronald Lauder (he of the cosmetics fortune) has purchased a Gustav Klimt portait for $135,000,000.

According to the article Mr. Lauder paid the family of Maria Altmann the now record sum for the gold-leaf adorned portrait of Austrian socialite Adele Bloch-Bauer.

Mr. Lauder, you overpaid.

Your Maximum Leader figures that Mr. Lauder overpaid by about $134,999,999. If Mr. Lauder had been good enough to give his Maximum Leader a call before the auction he would have been clued in on his now irrevocable folly. For this advice your Maximum Leader would only have charged $1,350.

Then again, your Maximum Leader might also have slapped Mr. Lauder upside the head a few times, kicked him down a flight of stairs, and dragged him through the dirt. Then charged him $135,000,000 for doing so. In the end Lauder would be no worse for wear.

Carry on.

Heartless

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader reads on the news wire that heroin users are being warned by public health authorities that a significant amount of the US heroin supply has been tainted. Yes… Tainted. Tainted with fentanyl, a powerful narcotic, which according to the article is 40 to 100 times stronger than morphine.

What? We’re warning heroin users that their drug of choice, a drug that could kill them through a number of side effects, has been tampered with and could kill them…

Why?

Wouldn’t it be better if we just let them use the tainted stuff and die? Wouldn’t the long-term health-care/law enforcement costs to society be lowered as a result of a few hundred (or a few thousand?) heroin users just killing themselves with bad stuff? Doesn’t it seem weird that “the government” is warning people who consume an ilicit substance that the substance in question isn’t safe for consumption? Is it all just a conspiracy to have heroin addicts move to a domestic product like crystal meth?

Your Maximum Leader doesn’t know the answers to those questions he poses (hetorically). But he does know he wouldn’t be putting out any warnings.

Carry on.

General Update

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader has really been busy over the past few days. He’d apologize for not posting, but he’s in no mood for it. You see, your Maximum Leader aches all over.

Now, your Maximum Leader in’t always much to complain (at least in this forum) about his physical aches and pains. But let him give you a little background…

Why is it that mothers are pampered and treated like bleedin royalty on Mothers Day? Well… If you have children you know the answer to this… It is because mothers suffer unspeakable torture at the hands of their spouse and offspring daily. Having to do laundry. Cook. Work. Teach. Toil.

But, without mothers where would civilization be? Nowhere, that’s where. Our mothers are ultimately responsible for civilization’s persistence.

Fathers on the other hand are responsble for civilization’s whimsy and fun. Fart jokes. Baseball. Laughing at the kids on the short bus. Grilled food. Beer. Pulling fingers. All these great things that make civilization more fun are the domain of men.

Now… Mothers get tired of fathers getting all the credit for fun… So on fathers day they conspire to make sure fathers don’t have any fun…

To wit: Your Maximum Leader and his esteemed father-in-law toiled like common labourers all weekend. Saturday and Sunday. We sweated. We toiled. We sunk concrete foundations. We used a pick-axe to break up the hardened soil around the Villainschloss. We drilled and hammered anchor spikes to a depth of 3 ft. We leveled. We laboured.

And for what? We laboured so that the Villainettes and the Wee Villain would have a little castle playset. With swings. And a slide.

Your Maximum Leader should have hired some Mexicans…

Or he should have liberated some dwarves

Anyhow… He is achy…

Carry on.

Random Friday Observations

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader will share with you a number of random Friday thoughts and observations.

First, another revision and correction. A good friend and frequent reader e-mailed your Maximum Leader to take issue with another assertion made in his blogged IM conversation. (Who’da thunk that one IM conversation would generate two re-statments/clarifications/outright retractions.) This friend is a delightful, witty and fun (sorta single) woman. She is also quite attractive. She showers regularly. She waxes her legs, shaves her underarms, brushes and styles her hair and keeps impecable care of her physcial person. Now she informs me (via e-mail) that she aligns herself with the Green Party. Egads! Last time your Maximum Leader checked she was a liberal-progressive Democrat. Ah well… Plus ça change… you know. So it seems your Maximum Leader knows at least one Greenie gel who doesn’t have hairy pits, doesn’t reek of sweat, and is not in need of a shower.

NB to Howard Dean: Your Maximum Leader’s friend is not the type of person you want removing herself from your little (and growing littler) party.

Secondly, your Maximum Leader went by the local coffee house in town after lunch to get an iced Chai and chanced upon a thoroughly disreputable looking young man who was wearing a bright white t-shirt that read: “Wildly inaccurate… But fast as hell.” The phrase made your Maximum Leader chuckle. It’s not the same as the Mighty Buckethead’s “Heteful, Talentless, war-mongering, trailer trash… But it was a funny t-shirt.

By the way… Your Maximum Leader, it should not surprise you, is very mighty. Now! Go! Buy a Naked Villainy t-shirt.

Thirdly, your Maximum Leader was listening to his iPod through the Villainmobile radio today while driving about town. At one point he realized he must have had the volume up a little bit too high. You see, he felt a vibration in his leg that he thought was his cellular phone ringing on the vibrate mode… Turns out it was just the bass of the stereo causing the contents of his pocket to shake around.

Fourthly, your Maximum Leader is looking forward to dinner tonight… Grilled Delmonicos, mashed taters, and asparagus with hollandaise… Yum-my!

Carry on.

Thanks & Sundries

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader would like to thank the Big Hominid for his kind birthday wishes. They are much appreciated.

Additionally, some of you may have read the post (below) entitled “IMing with your Maximum Leader.” In the IM message your Maximum Leader asserted that Episcopalians in Maine would not bring any lobstah dishes to a church “covered dish” buffet. It just so happens that your Maximum Leader knows an Episcopalian from Maine (grew up there - left in 1968 to go to Vietnam and has not returned to live there, only visit, since). Your Maximum Leader asked his friend if they brought lobstah dishes to church buffets. It seems as though lobstah dishes at church dinners were, in fact, quite common - even expected - through the late 1960s. So that little bit of assumption by your Maximum Leader might be wrong.

According to Rachel, today is Blog Naked Day. Alas, your Maximum Leader is fully clothed at this stage. He may, as the day goes on, disrobe and blog again. If you are a female and blogging naked today, your Maximum Leader is pleased to receive photographic proof of such activities.

Your Maximum Leader is looking forward to joining other DC area bloggers tomorrow night for a little blogger togetherness. He will be modeling his new Naked Villainy T-shirt. The one that reads (on the back) “Well Educated. Well Informed. Well Fed. Well Hung. Get your own damn self one. They rock and chics dig them.

Carry on.

Huzzah for the Dreamy Miss Hewitt

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader is endebted to Agent Bedhead (Dead Sexy Sadie) for pointing out that the dreamy Jennifer Love Hewitt has told the Sun (of Page 3 fame) that her boobies are her own and that she has no intention of showing them off for photographers.

What can your Maximum Leader say but “huzzah!” He feels as though the dreamy object of his platonic desires is making the right call.

We’ll leave it to the likes of common starlets like Jamie Pressly to bare their alls in exchange for filthy lucre.

Carry on.

    About Naked Villainy

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