My Girl Hates the IRA

I've been attempting to further understand Jihad, Islam and why exactly there is a massive backlash aginst the west. In doing so I hoped to find a way to extricate this country from its military fiascos (not that I actually could, but it be nice to know if there were a way). This is obviously a difficult issue to grasp, and there is never absolute truth to be found in issues like these. I have changed my thinking somewhat, and here's why.
I find it easy to empathize with the downtrodden. A large part of my upbringing was a training against the Man in order to avoid becomming a tool. This obviously didn't work (6 years in the service really chapped my old man's ass), but a hatred of the establishment stuck. Usually when I hear about peasant revolt I'm inclined to feel for the peasants i.e.:
-'Cute little Bolshevics, they want to kill the rich, Yipee!' or
-'Cute little Rastas, they want to kill whitey, tehehe' or
-'Cute little Sadinistas, they want to kill capitalists, God be with their Catholic souls'.
It's easy to see why. Western culture subjegates the poor so that the rich may live in luxury. We take an inordinate amount of resources to build a culture of consumerism that is worthless and ugly. We allow the arms makers control of our warriors, the corrupt control of our law making bodies and we are blind to their collusion. We have sent our companies and spies to ensure the resources of our neighbors made it onto our porch.
Another facet of my thinking is a deep distrust of religous fundamentalists of all varieties. Claiming to know the exact nature of God scares me, how one decides that God is talking to him is beyond me, and convincing people to do a man's will in the name of God seems quite dangerous. Some common threads I have noticed in religous fundamentalist movements of the big three:
-Chicks are subordinate 2nd class citizens (on its surface a good plan, but this thought process has drawbacks).
-We are God's choosen. The heathens are not up to our level so F#ck 'em.
-The guy with the open phone line to God runs the show and is infallible. If a group cannot have a rational discussion about it's stances then it has a good chance of keeping some inefficacious and detrimental policies.
So here I have a dilema. A struggle between the Man and religous fundamentalist militias. My first thought is to the underdog. The Palestinians certainly got the raw deal when the Zionists inhabited Israel. The citizens of Iraq have a bombed out hellhole of a country thanks to LMT, NOC and KBR.
But something stuck in my craw about the whole Islamic Jihad thing, namely religously motivated suicide bombers. What kind of movment considers this tactic. There weren't any IRA suicide bombers, no Yankee suicide attacks on Cornwallis' motorcade. Now here would be my response when the boss came to me with his suicide bomber plan:
'Nate, we need you to strap on this TNT and blow yourself up on that bus over there'
'Why commander? Can we not expect a sucessful campaign without this tactic? I think you need to rethink your military planning. This strategy has too many drawbacks to my health.'
'No Nate, it's just that you'll move on to a better place after you die for our God.'
'But aren't we fighting for a brave new world? I'd hate to miss out on the paradise we will build after our military sucess.'
'No Nate, we are fighting for full length burkas and no booze.'
'I'm outta here.'
I'm therefore withdrawing support of any peasant revolution that supports removal of booze and addition of clothing. Spring break in Rasht must suck.

PEDAL WENCH!

Thursday I signed CK an myself up for the Portland Bridge Pedal. We did the 8 bridge ride, because I feared mutiny if I tacked on an extra 10 miles to ride down to the Sellwood bridge after waking her at 5:30 on a Sunday. CK bailed on me after the St. John's bridge and rode home. Still in all she did most of the ride, and I was quite proud of her pedaling stamina.
Normally this type of group ride would not be my thing, but the chance to ride the Fremont and Marquam bridges was too good to pass up. Paying someone to ride my bike makes me feel like a schmuck, and all the pricks in pro team kits kinda got on my nerves. Anything to get the wifey up extra early on a weekend though!
I also rented a violin, and will begin lessons on Monday. I'm pretty darn excited, and I hope to be playing jigs and reels in no time.

If it quacks like a duck...

Pro war Dem defeated in Vermont and the next day the terror alert is at red. Quite the coincidence. I'm no conspiracy theorist, but that stinks of political wrangling. If 4 years of 'war on terror' hasn't made us any safer from disgruntled kids with bombs on planes then it seems clear we have taken the wrong tack.

If you can't call it pie, call it cobbler.

We have some house guests. They seem nice. Certainly bubbly and happy to be on vacation! I made up a welcoming cobbler, which at first was going to be pie, but the crust wouldn't roll right. It worked perfectly when I made it to take to Steph's over the weekend. I made up the dough and stuck it in the fridge to cool while I made up the filling. If the fridge makes it roll better, thought I, then the freezer must do wonders! This time I made up the dough and stuck it in the freezer. This did not have the desired effect, and after cursing the pie gods I decided cobbler was the answer. Sure 'nuff it was delicious. Mmmmm. Cobbler...

Do You Flick your Boogers at My Peaches?

 

Peaches

So I'm at the store on Monday and I ask the produce lady what she has deals on, things that will can well. She has just the thing, she tells me, peaches $5.95 a case. Wow, I think to myself, that's 33 cents a pound. Can't beat that with a stick. I got 3 cases worth. Turns out that 54 pounds of peaches is a bigger pain in the ass than one might imagine.
It took me 2 nights of canning to get them all done. I did 19 quarts of peach halves, and when I was sick of halving them I did 11 quarts of peach preserves. I don't know how one consumes peach preserves, but I imagine I'll find out. Finally, by hour 3 on the second day, I was so sick of peaches I had CK bring all my neighbors a half dozen apiece. Tomorrow I'll take a picture to illustrate what 30 quarts of peaches truly looks like.