Wild Monkeys!

A lot of stuff on here is friends-only. Let me know if you'd like to be added and I'll see what I can do.

A horrifying and infuriating tale of transphobia.

I have been on such a pho kick recently, for unsurprising reasons. I am already plotting how to include it in today's plans. Something Asian and hot and noodly anyway. I would ordinarily ask for folks to join me but honestly I have to work straight through lunch. I've got a Measure 11 brief due soon — 12 counts of assault in the second degree, 2 counts of assault in the fourth degree, and 9 counts of criminal mistreatment in the first degree, just a huge transcript — and I'm trying to power through the key parts of drafting it today.

I would love to see you guys for lunch soon though.

ETA oh that was good. Pho with snow — it doesn't really rhyme, but still.

The '80s should've been far more like this:




(h/t to Ducky for the song, which led me to the video on a video-discovery-rich night)

I've got five briefs and one misdemeanor trial left to finish in this big work push before the Country Fair, and then I'll be onsite for 13 days. I'm not going to be online a whole lot during that period (through July 14). I look forward to catching up with everyone thereafter -- but most of all, if you can come to the Fair, do it!

I have been more outraged by the brutal, senseless murder of Dr. George Tiller than by any number of atrocities in the world over the last several years. It cuts to the quick of what I believe in. His blood is not just on the hands of the killer and his immediate ideological allies, but also on hundreds of politicians' hands: the hands of those who have fought to marginalize and ghettoize women's reproductive health care generally and abortion services specifically. They created the climate that led to this killing. Many of them are, with whatever crocodile tears, celebrating it tonight. They are anathema to me.

Thanks for your good thoughts and wishes. Dalilah is improving.

The 30 worst unicorn tattoos.

Credit to Ian McCullough and Andrew Sullivan for the link.

Our beloved Dalilah, aka Pokey-Paw, a Chartreux cat, is ill with a severe bladder infection, right on the heels of another one a few weeks back. She's fifteen and we've had many health scares over the last six years, so we're certainly sensitive to the possibility of saying goodbye to her this time. But subcutaneous fluids and antibiotics have restored her appetite, which had been scarily absent, so we'll see. This time we have the complexity of having a three-year-old who's lately been learning a lot about the natural world, including death, in the picture. On the other hand, it could be a really healthy, positive thing for her, handled correctly. Anyway, we're all just trying to keep Dalilah alive, or, failing that, comfortable.

Update: she is doing much better, thankfully.

Thanks for keeping it real, Reed and Reedies. I was able to attend as much of Renn Fayre as I ever do as a parent, and to enjoy my retirement from Meatsmoke leadership. Great job, next generations of smokers and Renn Fayre staff! I had a super time and I hope all of you who attended did, too.

Thanks to paraleipsis for the link.

Happy Renn Fayre! Happy Beltane! Happy festival season!

Was anyone else influenced as a child by Stanley Kiesel's The War Between the Pitiful Teachers and the Splendid Kids? For some reason it came back to me today. I commend it to your attention.

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(no transcription available)

( poem hidden on request due to length )

From cooking and hosting a gourmet dinner party for two other couples and their total of three kids, to (earlier) watching all those kids and our own two (including elaborate kid painting project!) with one and then two of the other parents while D and the remaining two parents were at a spa getting massages and soaking and saunaing and so forth, to going running for the first time in forever, to helping a prosecutor-recently-turned-defense-lawyer acquaintance work on one of her first motions to suppress statements, to having gotten a bit of extra sleep in the morning, today was a good day.

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“[funny but ultimately annoying robotranscription removed]” Transcribed by: bonobo23

My beloved big black bicycle, Charovnitsa (Russian for Enchantress/Sorceress/Witch), was stolen from my back yard, evidently last night. Because the windstorm (the December one, not the most recent one) had blown our side gate down, she was visible, and I had glaringly omitted to lock her up. She was my bike since my previous bike was stolen from my Reed house in the Summer of 1993. We had many adventures together. I am sad to see her go out like that.

(explanation)