Some anti-Muslim extremists in garland, Texas were attacked by a couple of Muslim extremists yesterday, proving that America needs to take much more extreme measures to protect itself from Muslim extremists.Paid for by psychopath Pam Geller, her American Patriots and gun-toting jihadists. My only regret is that they all couldn’t be stuffed in a wormhole and sent on a one-way trip to Andromeda Galaxy. For that matter, the same goes for anyone who engages in the sort of religiously-motivated “my Skygod is bigger than your Skygod!” tripe that gets a lot of people killed to no good end. The arrogant and blatant disregard for the safety of others in this charade is disgusting. This is provocation, pure and simple. and I hope the family of the wounded cop sues the pants of off everyone responsible.
The Jimmy Winkfield Stakes
June 12, 2014 | by Michael Lipkin
A racetrack in obsolescence.
Every year on the third Monday of January, the Aqueduct Racetrack, in South Ozone Park, Queens, runs a six-furlong race in honor of Jimmy Winkfield. The choice of date, Martin Luther King Day, is not accidental. Of Winkfield’s many accomplishments, which include winning the Russian Oaks an incredible five times for Czar Nicholas II, he is best known as the last black jockey to run a winner in the Kentucky Derby, in 1902.
To be black in the world of horse racing was no easy thing in the early part of the twentieth century. Winkfield, born in Kentucky, had enjoyed a storied career in Russia and France, but when he returned to America he was forced to enter a reception held in his honor through the hotel’s service entrance, with the bellhops and the kitchen staff.
Because of the raw January weather, attendance at the Jimmy Winkfield Stakes is usually rather sparse compared to the bigger events at the height of the racing season. This year, my older brother Ilya and I saw the race completely on a whim—we thought it might be fun to trek out to the Aqueduct like we used to when we were younger. Back then, if the weather was fine, our father would drive us to the track out in Ozone Park, a favorite destination for the unattached men in the neighborhood. Edik from the dry cleaners down the street was a fixture there, as was Pavel, the bartender at the Pennant Sports Bar on Northern, and Parsons, whose brother was an orderly at the elder-care facility where our grandfather died. To me, gaining admission to that world of working men was no less exciting than the races themselves. I watched with great interest as they quaffed beer and studied the odds on the board and cursed when they invariably lost their money. Being a bit older, Ilya had a better sense of what was actually going on. He nagged Pavel until the bartender showed him how to decipher the near-hieroglyphic racing form. The one time my father let him place a bet, we won eighty dollars. It proved to be a red-letter day, because that same afternoon, I fed a carrot to Cigar, the Hall of Fame thoroughbred, just before the first big win of his career. (The Aqueduct now runs a race in his honor as well.)
There are two ways to look at global warming:
The Good News–Global warming is caused by human activities. This is good because we can do something about it.
The Bad News–Global warming is NOT caused by human activities. This is bad because we can’t do a damned thing about it.
The Bad News COULD still be good news if we figure out ways to deal with bad stuff that isn’t caused by human activities through applying, oh, I dunno, SCIENCE? Alas, the shitturds in the GOP is turning The Good News into Bad News by applying bribes and prayer to bad stuff that is caused by human activities. It’s a lose-lose situation. The anti-science bullshit that goes on in this country is going to kill us all. How the rest of the world puts up with us, I don’t know.
from the wonderful Wundergeek
A mother I know just said that her argument against vaccinating her snowflakes was, I kid you not, that those diseases aren’t so dangerous anymore: “because modern medicine can work wonders”.
I have a do-not-engage policy on the topic amongst friends, but that one almost drew me back in with the sheer gravitational power of its circular non-logic.