So a guy in Florida has been arrested for attempting to steal some guns, so that he could go “rescue” Terri Schiavo.
And a guy in North Carolina has been arrested for offering $250k to anyone who would kill Michael Shiavo, plus an extra $50k to anyone who would kill the judge.
This is the logical consequence of our political leaders’ willingness to couch this all in Biblical, apocalyptic terms, to lie for affect, to demonize those fighting on the side of a patient’s right to refuse treatment.
Just like the logical consequence of framing your anti-abortion speeches in apocalyptic terms and demonizing your opposition is that your followers will end up shooting abortion doctors. Randall Terry knows a little something about that (although he’d claim otherwise).
When I stopped feeling sorry for Terry Schiavo’s parents, see, was when I learned they’d chosen Randall Terry as their personal spokesman.
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Well, I hae ow had the essetial paretig eperiee of haig y daughter pour her drik o the oputer keyoard.
Do’t e surprised if loggig is a little sporadi for a while.
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I forgot to mention in the last post: we went to a book sale at the Coralville public library on Saturday. I picked up an Elmore Leonard, and a Fyodor’s travel guide to Germany (why not? It was $1). Most importantly, though, I grabbed the Disney’s Wonderful World of Knowledge Year Book for the year of my birth. Check out its slightly-warped-and-yellowed coolness:
It is full of fascinating biographical information about President Carter, plus a primer on the Metric System (or SI, for Système International) that’s sure to come in handy any time now. A representative sample: “The United States has not adopted SI, but is expected to do so.”
The Metric System section is written by Franklyn M. Branley, who, it is helpfully noted, is the author of Think Metric. I am trying very hard not to picture Franklyn as a broken, embittered old man, eating Pork ‘n’ Beans cold from the can while slumped in a dusty La-Z-Boy, wearing a soiled undershirt, boxers, and dark socks, watching reruns of Wheel of Fortune. But it is not working.
Also, for those who like photos, head on over to my Flickr page to see a few more shots from our recent trip to the Mississippi River museum in Dubuque, where we saw such wonders as this totally immobile alligator. Or crocodile, possibly. I can never remember the difference. Daphne had tons of fun, although she scowled for most of the pictures.
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It’s been a long, strange weekend.
For reasons unkown to me, Daphne’s sleep schedule is waaaay messed up. She is normally not such a regular sleeper, but this has been really bizarre. Yesterday, she refused to go down for a nap until nearly 2:00 P.M. (she is usually finished with her nap by then). This did not bode well for getting to sleep on time last night.
Nevertheless, she woke up at the usual time this morning, and I thought, “a-ha! she is low on sleep now, and shall surely be ready for a nap at her usual 11:20, and I can take her swimming when the pool opens at 1:00!”
Instead, she proved so resistant to sleep that we ended up driving around North Liberty and Coralville for nearly an hour, hoping for the much celebrated Road Trip Sleep Effect. Daphne passed the time by singing the alphabet song at the top of her lungs, over and over and over, occasionally interspersed with Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star, for the sake of diversity.
We ended up going home, suiting up, and heading to the pool, napless and apparently none the worse for it. She splashed and floated and giggled at full energy for more than an hour and a half. She showed no signs of stopping.
So we came home, cleaned up, ate some raisins, and went shopping. She dropped like a rock on the way to Lowe’s, and slept on my shoulder through the store while we comparison-shopped for a grill. Then the same through Sears, plus a candle expedition to Pier One.
She awoke as we arrived home, having slept 1.5 hours. That didn’t begin to make up for her sleep deficit, of course.
When did we get her down for the night? Oh, about 10:20 I guess. After almost two solid hours of trying. I swear, she spends more time being put to sleep than she does actually sleeping. Looks like she’s inherited her dad’s sleep patterns (note that I’m posting this at 1:00 A.M. :)
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