Who’s ready for the BIG JOBS SPEECH HUH

We’ll surely be watching, at the bar, and drinking every time the President says “jobs.” Since we’ll be good and riled up afterwards, we’ll also be drinking every time they say “jobs” in the post-game, I mean, post-speech analysis.

Finally, we’ll drink a bottle of rot-gut Irish whiskey when we realize that people are comparing it to this one:

Because, well, that’s the speech that buried Carter, despite it, in all reality, being a really good piece of oratory. And absolutely fucking honest. And, still appropriate today more than ever. In fact, maybe the president should just give this same speech verbatim. If you’re going to be compared to Carter, you might as well crib the damned thing.

But, if I were the president, I’d just crib Charlie’s speech.

Things I Drink And So Should You: Ft. Snow and the French 75

I am not a winter person. I’m not. I hate it. Worse: I ‘m one of those people who constantly reminds everyone around them that I hate winter and think it’s awful. If you are among the thousands of people I have accosted with my rantings against, of all things (really, of all things), weather, I apologize. I will do it again, and soon, but I am sorry for having done it. It is regrettable.

I hate winter for so many reasons: all of the reasons. It’s dark all the time. It’s cold. It’s damned treacherous on occasion. We’ve had three blizzards up here this winter and it’s only the middle of January. The snow. Oh God, how I hate snow. It combines two of my least favorite things: cold and wet. You might think it’s pretty, and, really, it’s not bad to look at. But snow is like that girl at the bar, the ridiculously attractive girl with the glasses, who comes in and orders the same thing you’re drinking and puts great music on the jukebox. She’s great. But she’s going to be a ton of work and you’re going to get tired of her within weeks if not days. Fuck her. And fuck snow.

I’m on my third snow day of the year today. It’s actually the third of the last two weeks. Most of my co-workers, and no doubt all of the kids, were pretty ecstatic at this development. Snow days mean — when they cancel school the day before, as they did yesterday — sleeping in, and drinking heavily beforehand. Snow days also offer a quiet respite from the drudgery and din of work, screaming and arguing and running around replaced by lazily sipping at coffee while curled up on the couch engrossed in a good book. And snow days also mean a run on bread and milk and eggs at every grocery store. A local news blog called Universal Hub ushers in storms by whipping out their French Toast Alert system, a mix between your local television station’s StormCenter or whatever and Homeland Security’s color-coded Threat Level System. When the flakes start falling and families are going to be snowbound, it’s time for French Toast.

I’m not like most people, so I don’t do French toast. There’s no booze in it, so I don’t particularly look forward to it, though I suppose you could put a little rum in the batter, which might not be too bad. Also, I’m a bacon guy (but who isn’t? Unless you’re a bacon lady, obvs.). That said, I do feel like I need to have some kind of snow day tradition, so I thought about it for a while. A hot toddy just seemed too obvious. The Blue Blazer and all that stuff, though fun to watch and easy to drink (who doesn’t love on-fire scotch? You don’t? Fuck you.), is just a little too gimmicky. Hot buttered Rum is a bit to fey for me; also, would mean drinking butter and rum. Irish coffee is coffee. So, I kept thinking until I came up with the perfect drink, even though it’s not a winter drink at all. I figured that since I love the whole French Toast Alert thing, because it seems so ridiculous to me, that I should include either French or Toast in it. There are no drinks with toast in them, and thank God for that. So, I went with French.

And I chose the French 75, which is not generally my kind of drink, even though it combines two of my favorite boozes: gin and champagne. It’s the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup of drinking (“You got gin in my champagne!” “You got champagne in my gin!”), only even tastier and a hundred times classier. Whoever did this is a genius, because, let’s face it, you’re not having one. You’re just not, so don’t even go into it thinking like that. You’ll only disappoint yourself as you go through the entire champagne bottle, which, again, you will. You will also have a raging hangover, but you will have earned it and not regret the small animal on the treadmill in your brain. The French 75 hangover is one you cherish, one you do not look back on ruefully, but with tender memories.

Also, use good gin and crappy champagne. Not Andre crappy, because you want to enjoy it, but don’t break out the Dom Perignon either. A good 20 or 30 dollar bottle will get the job done just fine. I use Hendrick’s gin and Veuve Cliquot, because, well, because that’s the gin I drink and the champagne I drink, and once I find something I like, I tend to stick with it until someone introduces me to something better (this might explain why I persisted in watching The Office until someone alerted me to the presence of Parks and Rec, and then I was all, great my fake-documentary style sitcom needs are taken care of!). Anyway, the important thing is that you have gin and champagne and you put them into a glass. And then you drink it.

The French 75 is alarmingly simple. Because it’s classy though, it prefers to be called elegant rather than simple. All you need, as I’ve mentioned several times, because it bear repeating on account of awesomeness, is gin and champagne. Gin, champagne and lemon, really. Gin, champagne, lemon and a flute glass. And a little bit of sugar. It’s really elegant. Get your shaker out and pour half a glass of champagne in there, adding a spoonful of sugar, a couple shots of gin and some lemon juice. BUT! Do not use one of those garbage plastic lemons for your lemon juice! Please! On so many levels, that is a terrible thing to do, not just in this drink, but ever. Seriously: don’t use the fucking plastic lemon. Use a real lemon. It’s not difficult. You cut the fucking thing in half and squeeze it. End of story. But, like, really. Don’t use the plastic lemon. Also, you need a real lemon because you are going to cut a long thin strip of the peel, coil it and let it hang over the rim of the glass (ELEGANCE!).

So, slowly stir the gin, champagne, sugar and lemon juice. Pour it into the flute. Add your lemon peel. It’s now a French 75 and you can drink it. It’s ready. Enjoy it. You will. Look out the window at the freshly fallen snow. Sip. Pick up a good book because there’s nothing on TV in the middle of the afternoon. Sip. Gaze longingly from the glass to the window. Sigh. Sip. Put off shoveling a little longer. Finish the drink and make another one. You know how to do it now. You just did it. It’s easy. And elegant. You’re now having the most elegant snow day ever. You’re welcome.

Cheers.

Looking Back Through C-SPAN #7

It’s over, and the 111th will forever be known for the craptastic economy.  With better things to do there was no way you could have been watching C-SPAN every minute of the day, so we are bringing you 10 of the most memorable clips from (or occurring during) the 111th Congress that C-SPAN had to offer.

Plenty of members brought the bigot talk to the 111th Congress as repeal of DADT was debated over the last year.  Here is one, Jack Kingston (R-GA) in one of many floor appearances using circular reasoning to keep DADT.  Probably most offensive is that they talk about equality as if the issue was about them, their right to be offended by homosexuality, their freedom of religion, which further highlights their failure to recognize gays and lesbians as people deserving the same freedoms.

You can see a whole series of sound arguments by Republicans on the YouTube

I thought he was supposed to be the technology president

Click the photo for larger version.

Now, in my office, we do this with Word’s mark-up feature. Not that it works that well, and I generally find it easier to just mark-up by hand. But, in any case, where’s the red ink? Any editor worth their salt uses red.

This has always been the history of our history purpose.

But, to be fair, I agree with just about all these edits. “This has always been our history.” What the hell does that even mean? “This has always been the history of our purpose.” Ah, that’s better.

Required reading

Most of my predecessors in this place have commended him who made this speech part of the law, telling us that it is well that it should be delivered at the burial of those who fall in battle. For myself, I should have thought that the worth which had displayed itself in deeds would be sufficiently rewarded by honors also shown by deeds; such as you now see in this funeral prepared at the people’s cost. And I could have wished that the reputations of many brave men were not to be imperilled in the mouth of a single individual, to stand or fall according as he spoke well or ill. For it is hard to speak properly upon a subject where it is even difficult to convince your hearers that you are speaking the truth. On the one hand, the friend who is familiar with every fact of the story may think that some point has not been set forth with that fullness which he wishes and knows it to deserve; on the other, he who is a stranger to the matter may be led by envy to suspect exaggeration if he hears anything above his own nature. For men can endure to hear others praised only so long as they can severally persuade themselves of their own ability to equal the actions recounted: when this point is passed, envy comes in and with it incredulity. However, since our ancestors have stamped this custom with their approval, it becomes my duty to obey the law and to try to satisfy your several wishes and opinions as best I may.

I shall begin with our ancestors: it is both just and proper that they should have the honor of the first mention on an occasion like the present. They dwelt in the country without break in the succession from generation to generation, and handed it down free to the present time by their valor. And if our more remote ancestors deserve praise, much more do our own fathers, who added to their inheritance the empire which we now possess, and spared no pains to be able to leave their acquisitions to us of the present generation. Lastly, there are few parts of our dominions that have not been augmented by those of us here, who are still more or less in the vigor of life; while the mother country has been furnished by us with everything that can enable her to depend on her own resources whether for war or for peace. That part of our history which tells of the military achievements which gave us our several possessions, or of the ready valor with which either we or our fathers stemmed the tide of Hellenic or foreign aggression, is a theme too familiar to my hearers for me to dilate on, and I shall therefore pass it by. But what was the road by which we reached our position, what the form of government under which our greatness grew, what the national habits out of which it sprang; these are questions which I may try to solve before I proceed to my panegyric upon these men; since I think this to be a subject upon which on the present occasion a speaker may properly dwell, and to which the whole assemblage, whether citizens or foreigners, may listen with advantage.

Our constitution does not copy the laws of neighboring states; we are rather a pattern to others than imitators ourselves. Its administration favors the many instead of the few; this is why it is called a democracy. If we look to the laws, they afford equal justice to all in their private differences; if no social standing, advancement in public life falls to reputation for capacity, class considerations not being allowed to interfere with merit; nor again does poverty bar the way, if a man is able to serve the state, he is not hindered by the obscurity of his condition. The freedom which we enjoy in our government extends also to our ordinary life. There, far from exercising a jealous surveillance over each other, we do not feel called upon to be angry with our neighbors for doing what he likes, or even to indulge in those injurious looks which cannot fail to be offensive, although they inflict no positive penalty. But all this ease in our private relations does not make us lawless as citizens. Against this fear is our chief safeguard, teaching us to obey the magistrates and the laws, particularly such as regard the protection of the injured, whether they are actually on the statute book, or belong to that code which, although unwritten, yet cannot be broken without acknowledged disgrace.

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