JUBILANT BRIEFING
Assimilation

Feb. 7 - I ought to be napping. I really ought to be napping. Molli is. That means I could. I ought to.

* * *

I'm walking on air today, despite having had just three hours of real sleep since the Patriots won last night's Super Bowl. Or maybe because of it.

That's two Super Bowls and one World Series served up to the sons and daughters of New England in twelve months. I'll have to go out of my way to get some pictures of Molli at Foxboro and Fenway when we're out in the states later this month. Or at least plant the seeds for some lie she can later cherish as truth—assuming she never googles this page.

(Turn back, future Molli! Turn back!)

And I still think Bruschi would be a hell of a name if we were ever to give Molli a little brother. . .

The Borg

The Borg have been banned in Denmark.

The Borg is just one of the many Lamaze-brand toys that Molli likes to play with. It's actually called the "Lamaze Clutch Cube." Here's a picture of Molli's:

The Borg's ship, from Star Trek TNG, looks like this:

We didn't just call her Clutch Cube "the Borg" because of its shape, though. It was also partly because of her antagonistic relationship with it. She wouldn't play with it so much as punish it, seizing one of its handy flaps and flailing her arm around spasmodically to smash the Borg against any surface within striking distance, her own head inclusive. She simply didn't want to be assimilated.

But it looks like the Borg may be having the last laugh. Seriously.

According to the Danish Ministry of the Environment, the Clutch Cube is made of materials that can, over long-term exposure, increase the chances of cancer or organ damage.

I'm not joking. I don't know if the Danish Ministry of the Environment is hysterically over-reacting to some high-school student's research project, or if the good people at Lamaze accidentally loaded a batch of their toys with some leftover radium from the Christmas party, but it's infuriating either way.

So Molli is done with the Borg. Now we're wondering about her other Lamaze toys. She has a lot of them, because they're all the rage here, despite the fact that this is not their first safety issue.

Strangely, however, I can't find anything on the web about this particular "Clutch Cube" issue in English. Has the Danish Environmental Ministry simply gone a little overboard? Or are American laws too lax? What is truth?

Either way, we've finally been sucked into the confusion and horror of parenting in the Age of Chem-Toys. We have been assimilated.

Hitler, Hitler, Hitler

The Danish elections are tomorrow, and it turns out George Bush isn't the only reincarnation of Hitler:

The man in the photo is Denmark's current Prime Minister, Anders Fogh Rasmussen. The text explains that, "Hitler was also popularly elected." The small text on the bottom describes him as the "National Minister of Racism." The deliberate misspelling of his name, as Fjogh instead of Fogh, is a play on words: a fjog is a fool, someone who's laughably stupid.

So, you see, the point here is that the current Prime Minister is a laughably stupid, racist Hitler wannabe.

But wait, there's more!

"Vote for me," Pinocchio exclaims. "I never lie." But wait! That's not Pinocchio—it's Anders Fogh Rasmussen again! Holy crap! He's Hitler and he's a habitual liar!

The Danish left is obviously grabbing onto the Democratic National Committe's playbook. The results aren't likely to vary.

Almanackal Notes

Yesterday (the 6th) was exactly halfway between the winter solstice and spring equinox, which is the scientifically correct way of saying it's the middle of fucking winter. Bottoms up: it only gets better from here.

Except, of course, in the Southern Hemisphere, where it only gets worse, which might have something to do with why it's Waitangi Day down there.

What's Waitangi Day, you ask? It's a New Zealand holiday to commemmorate the February 6, 1840 signing of "The Treaty of Waitangi" by representatives of the British Crown and leading Maori chiefs in Waitangi. The treaty preserved many Maori rights while making New Zealand a British Colony.

I think we ought to join our Kiwi friends in celebrating Waitangi Day. There's no particular logic to this, but it's fun to say "Happy Waitangi Day." We could all wear funny hats and buy each other Waitangi presents.

Sound silly?

Just four days ago we were all waiting for a stupid rodent to crawl out of a hole and look for his shadow.

* * *

It was eighty-five years ago yesterday (the 6th) that the German constituent assembly met in Weimar for the first time to declare itself the Official German Government for the Time Being.

This "Weimar Republic," as it came to be known, should not be confused with the "Weimar Republic" fashion clothing outlet found in many American malls. The former caused an economic depression, Hitler, and the horrors of the second World War. The latter caused a slight dip in sales at Benneton and The Limited.

Things Paul Might Have Been Thinking on the 50-Yard Line

The Beatles arrived in the United States forty-one years ago today, on February 7, 1964.

They came from Britain, sometimes known as England, a little island in the North Atlantic from which many people have come to the United States over the years, some of them without guitars.

The British (or English), like so many other Europeans, have a long and storied history. Although it took the French to perfect the guillotine, the English (or British) made up for in zeal what they lacked in technological savvy, and next week is the anniversary of three British (or English) queens having their heads hewn from their shoulders. Specifically:

On February 8, 1587, after nineteen years in prison, Mary Queen of Scots was beheaded.

On February 12, 1554, Lady Jane Grey, queen for nine days in 1553, was beheaded.

On February 13, 1542, Catherine Howard, Henry VIII's Vth wife, was beheaded.

If you can get to an English (or British) pub next week, order a beer without any head and see if they get the joke. Be careful, though, because people can react in unexpected ways when asked to give or withhold head.

* * *

On February 7, 1898, the trial of Emile Zola began in Paris. He lost at first but eventually he won. He had accused someone of something, or vice-versa. Long story. It all began in the backwoods of Illinois... no, that was Lincoln. Never mind.

* * *

Chris Rock turns 38 today, and Garth Brooks turns 42. They share their birthday with Sinclair Lewis (1885), Laura Ingalls Wilder (1867), and Charles Dickens (1812).

It's Independence Day in Grenada.

Happy Monday—and how about them Patriots?

2005, The Moron's Almanac™

[close window]
[Discuss]
[Daily Briefing Archive]