UPDATE: Welcome, Instapundit readers. Please note that we’re proudly running WordPress, despite Prof. Reynolds’ unkind words about it. *grin* (Surviving the Instalanche thanks entirely to Donncha’s excellent WP Super Cache plugin)
Aron and I have long noted that Battlestar Galactica‘s Colonel Tigh (played by Michael Hogan) bears a more-than-striking resemblance to one Senator John McCain, an observation evidently shared by others (click the pic above to see the full image). However, we were unprepared for the sheer BSG-related brilliance a slip of the tongue could unleash.
Evidently, Aron’s wife inadvertently let current events slip into her speech the other night and, in referring to Edward James Olmos’ character, called him “Admiral Obama”. Aron shared this with me the next day and we had a good laugh over the prospects for a BSG-themed campaign.
And then he went and did something, well, brilliant:
(Click the picture for full-size.)
That’s right, he gimped Obama and Clinton into the BSG continuum, with Barack as Lee Adama and Hillary as Starbuck. The disturbing mental Lee-Starbuck smooching visions this conjures up should likely be avoided by most thinking adults, as they are quite difficult to shake, I assure you, but the humor value far outweighs the risks in my opinion. [NOTE: Some seem to be under the misapprehension that the above picture is actually one of Obama and Clinton “smooching” — not so. Clicking the link only takes you to the full-sized version, I assure you. -ed.]
Now we just need to get Jeff Harrell to update his t-shirt design to read “Obama is a Cylon” and the circle shall be complete.
PS: I hereby declare myself the Official Google Winner for the first recorded electronic use of the phrase “Obama Is A Cylon“.
*grin*
PPS: Non-watermarked version available upon request.
UPDATE 2:
Here’s the rendering of the GOP that Aron gimp’d, back when this was still fresh and there was more than TighMcCain standing in the Republican field:
Click the image to see the embiggened source.
Huzzah!
Brad aka Agent Orange let slip that he and his misses are in the baby way, with the Next Generation edition due some time in May.
Congratulations, buddy! Welcome to the club. Want a 2 year old with a penchant for mischief and madness to practice on for a couple of weeks? I just happen to have such a training model handy…
Swing For The Fences, Boyo
Yesterday ended up being a very busy day — work was packed with “fun” meetings and that dreaded “work” thing as well, which was followed by my weekly church elders’ meeting. My pastor and I grabbed a quick bite to eat and then headed for the softball diamond, as our church’s team is currently playing for the local church league’s championship.
Our guys ended up winning last night fairly handily, with the score ending somewhere around 17-10 or so. I actually never caught the final score, since one of my good buddies ended up with a concussion after being hit in the head with a throw from center field late in the 5th inning. He hit a nice shot over the second baseman’s head and as he was sliding into second for a double, the outfielder’s throw clocked him in the head. I spent most of the rest of the game trying to keep tabs on him and make sure that he didn’t wander off or try to get back into the game (actually, a goodly portion of our hometown crowd absorbed themselves with a similar pastime, truth be told). His wife ended up taking him in to the E.R. where a CAT scan proved that, yup, he had a concussion. I spoke with her this morning and confirmed that he seems to be largely back to his old irascible self but will be laid up for a few days as he nurses the aftereffects.
The softball series itself is slated as a best-2-of-3 contest, so the second (and hopefully final) game will be this Thursday. I most likely will be in attendance again.
Go Riverside!
Our Own Southern Strategery
Last week was a week full of fun, family, friends, frivolity and lots of driving.
Brad has already admirably covered our brief stint in Norf Caruhlienuh, so I will decline to comment upon it except to note that I look far more like John Belushi as “Samurai Delicatessen” samurai than the prototypical Westernized depiction of Jesus.
So wife, child and I bundled ourselves into our Folks Vaagen Wagon Of Misery two Saturdays ago and made our way towards the shores of northern South Carolina. We stopped overnight at my aunt’s place in Richmond, VA and set off towards North Myrtle Beach somewhat refreshed and reinvigorated on Sunday morning (as refreshed, etc. as one can be when sharing a room with a 20-month-old in unfamiliar circumstances, that is).
My brother’s in-laws own a series of 4 condos in NMB and so they graciously allowed us to use all four for the week. We arrived in North Myrtle Beach and spent the better part of the next four days trundling ourselves between our condo and the beach, accompanied by 25 of my relatives — parents, siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents and even a great aunt. We slathered on great amounts of 30+ SPF sunscreen, thus I returned no tanner than I had left, which is to say: I am visible at out to 1800 yards with the unaided eye. I reflect more light than three Moby Dicks and roughly 103.5 reams of 20-weight copier paper.
I golfed with my brothers and father on Wednesday afternoon and scored (and I am not making this up) a 133. The course is a regulation one, meaning that par is 72 strokes per 18 holes. That’s right: I scored 61 over par. With cheating. Hooyeah!
We dined out at a seafood buffet on Wednesday night to celebrate my grandfather’s 80th birthday and managed to make an already loud restaurant that much louder. A good time was had by all.
After our two day foray into NC, we headed northwards again. We stayed at my aunt’s again Friday evening and then trekked our way back towards Philly, detouring from I-95 briefly around Frodericksburg (“Eyegor!”), VA to visit a Sonic Drive-In, a culinary treat that is prolific in the South but sadly lacking in the Yankee hinterlands. That, plus the Krispy Kreme run I made and the hushpuppies consumed at the seafood buffet almost made for a Southern fast-food delicacy trifecta; unfortunately, I was unable to obtain any SC mustard-based BBQ, thus I think the trifecta was more like a 2.5/3.0-fecta. Ahhh well, there’s always the next time.
In all, ’twas fun-but-draining. As so often is the case, I need a vacation after my vacation…
(Left undiscussed due to space constraints are GPS devices, Women of the Night, drug deals, manta rays and a rousing game of twilight beach bocce.)
Potential Weirdness Inbound
A small programming note for my dedicated readers:
I just moved this blog over to WordPress version 2.2 since the version I was running (2.1.3) was vulnerable to a rather nasty cross-site scripting vulnerability. If you notice that anything is missing (images, pages, etc.) or anything that throws errors, please go ahead and drop me a line ASAP so I can get it taken care of. I think I took care of most of the migration, but it’s easy to miss the little things.
A note to my hosted blogs:
In order to draw you all into the WPMU fold, I’ve restarted the migration path. AndyII’s blog was the first to get hit, but everything should be okay now. If you notice that your site isn’t available any time soon, assume that I’m taking the liberty of moving you onto the MU system.
Thanks.
A Regular Stand-Up Kinda Goy
Over the course of a Seder dinner, an event filled with history, solemnity and a good deal of tradition, have you ever inadvertently:
- Almost choked to death on a sip of grape juice?
- Brought your 18 month old son to tears with a bite of matzoh and horseradish?
- Poured piping-hot matzoh ball soup down your wife’s back while trying to avoid pouring another bowl down her front?
No? Why do I ask? Well, you see, I have this friend who just happened to…
Umm, well, y’see, it’s like this: I tried to, I mean, he tried to…
Crap. I’m never going to hear the end of this one.
Submitted For Verification
Question for Brad: does that seem about accurate? The horror stories you tell would seem to indicate “yes”…
Ever Have One Of Those “Neo/’Whoa!'” Moments?
Like, say, for instance, you’re watching Wednesday night’s Lost and you casually note that the ringleader of the gang of Phuket thugs that beat the crap out of Jack just happens to be played by none other than James Huang who was a class ahead of you in school and was your football, wrestling and lacrosse team captain as well as your consistent sparring partner throughout your later wrestling career? No? Just me?
Weird. Still, at least he hasn’t forgotten his roots, as… oh, wait, West Windsor-Plainsboro “South” (Pfeh!) doesn’t even appear in his IMDb bio. Oh well.
3 Cheers For The Internet, Eternal Font Of Mirth And Amusement!
So Aron stumbled across the newly-proposed “don’t come near else you’re risking a severe dose of radiation, and not the cool ‘turns-you-into-the-Hulk-slash-Fantastic-Four-kind” signs created by the IAEA (Official Motto: “No time to search for Iranian nukes, we’re making signs!”) and decided to post it to the “Stick Figures In Peril” Flickr group (a source of much mirth in and of itself, mind you). An enterprising Flickr user decided to alter the sign for Japanese consumption and the following is what resulted:
I must admit I actually snorted out loud upon seeing that version. I agree with the other Flickr commenters as well: a T-shirt simply must be in the offing.
A Change Of State
Like over-excited electrons cutting loose in a burst of light, Andy One and fam are returning to their former state. Congrats on the return, Andy.
And I am so, so sorry for that analogy…