|Gen. Petraeus, left:Gen. McChrystal, right|
Maybe General McChrystal wanted his two seconds of fame; he was certainly not making much headway in Afghanistan. In an interview with the Rolling Stone magazine (to be sold this Friday June 25, 2010), he made inflammatory statements about President Obama and some of his key administration officials. It is inconceivable that an experienced, 55 year-old General no less, is unaware of the consequences of such an interview. Or did lack of insubordination in his own military ’empire’ lead to delusions of grandeur?
He is out. General Petraeus replaces him.
Read the entire interview to be featured in Rolling Stone magazine here.
The waterproof plastic case of the Nikon camera was covered with six months’ worth of crusty sea growth, but the camera itself was almost pristine when it was found in May.” (Washed up camera almost pristine June 17th, 2010)
The camera had traveled more than a thousand miles from Aruba, with a sea turtle for company for a while. Note the term “pristine”. All we need now is for Nikon to make cellphones. Four of my cellphones have been victims of “death by drowning”. They’ve been laundry accidents and that couldn’t have been worse than an ocean voyage!
Part of the camera’s voyage was captured by this sea turtle, which turned it on with its flapping fin. Smart turtle! Wanted to bore its relatives with home videos, no doubt. A captive audience while they are laying eggs on a beach somewhere.
Go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E43sg-Ytt58 to see what the camera captured.
I read something on “The Daily Beast” (June 14, 2010), which I simply must share verbatim ac litteratim. Among the comments to an article on Al Gore’s silence on the BP oil spill issue was this right wing “manifesto” as seen by the reader. Desertpenguin writes:
I was amazed at his perspicacity.
I was watching the 2010 World Cup soccer match between Germany and Australia on television and was terribly distracted by this buzzing noise, like some 10, 000 bees. I had to mute the set, turn on closed captioning and suffer a time delay in the commentary. I had begun to think the noise was in my head. I couldn’t see any organized kazoo blowing among the spectators, but turns out I was not looking for vuvuzelas. The vuvuzela , which is made to replicate the call of an elephant, comes across as a drone on television. In real life, though, the noise reaches 144 decibels, equivalent to the sound made by a passenger jet.
Because the vuvuzelas create a wall of sound, there has been little of the usual chanting, singing and roaring that are a staple of soccer games everywhere else in the world. TV viewers are getting increasingly annoyed and want them banned. However, FIFA President Sepp Blatter refuses to play ball, so to speak. “I have always said that Africa has a different rhythm, a different sound,” Blatter said in a Twitter post. “I don’t see banning the music traditions of fans in their own country.” So that’s that.
Fans in South Africa seem to be having a great time! Everybody here has the vuvu.
Learned to bicycle three weeks ago, in my 49th year. Of all my accomplishments (am not telling), that’s the one I am proudest of. I felt cheated somehow, that no one bothered to teach me before. Before Malini, that is. She came armed with knee guards, elbow guards and wrist guards. And I borrowed Mukunda’s helmet. Malini held the bike, ran alongside me, and what did I do? I ran over her foot a couple of times. I decided then to learn quickly, to avoid further accidents. The hardest thing about cycling is not to zig-zag. I need the entire width of the street to myself. I still cannot stop wobbling or make turns. I had one major fall a week ago when I took my right hand off the handlebar to scratch my nose. The bicycle careened to the left and I fell quite comprehensively in an undignified heap in the middle of the street. This morning I had to share the street with a man walking a dog towards me. I came to a stop 10 yards away and waited for him to pass by which took about 15 minutes because the dog was curious and stopped to look at my ankles. The man gave me a strange look, so I had to explain to him that I was a new cyclist. He understood the entire situation instantly, gave me some advice about the brakes and moved on leaving the street free and clear once more.