My brother sends this photo from wherever he is in California getting some sort of Army training (yeah, I'm a civilian...) of "Jihadist squirrel trying to steal [his] weapon."
Had an...interesting...conversation at an art class tonight. While we were drawing (well, everyone else was drawing, I was making pencil marks that resembled nothing in front of me) one of the middle-aged women (a quilter, too) kept up a non-stop monologue about her life and travels. She segued from London to Vietnam to Iraq, and how happy she was Obama was elected, which led to "As soon as John McCain said we were going to be at war for a hundred years I knew we couldn't let him win. But Obama's going to stop the war." And dammit, I paid too much money for that class to sit and listen to crap like that for eight weeks.
When she paused for breath, I said--calmly and politely, because I spent too much money on the class to get kicked out on the first night--"He might not get a chance. The other side might not want to quit fighting." And from the look on her face, I got the feeling that it had never once occurred to her that wars don't end without an agreement by both sides (capitulation is a form of agreement...)
She said "I guess there have been wars that have lasted a hundred years," and moved on.
Later she had to mention how she hates Sarah Palin, but changed the subject to quilts when I said, "Really? I like her, she's everything I wanted to be when I was a kid." Heh.
I noticed this six months ago, but DAMN. It is truly impossible to be out in public and not have total strangers start worshipping Obama and/or bashing conservatives and expect everyone in the room to chime in. And I know I'm not alone; Jay Nordlinger at NRO has written several columns and posted a lot of reader e-mail to the same effect.
Although--I hope I didn't just jinx myself--the company I'm working has been safe so far. My desk is in an area away from engineers and populated by people who want to be management when they grow up, so I've heard all sorts of Machiavellian machinations for power and every detail of this one sales guy's girlfriend's first 11 weeks of gestation except the position they were in at conception (sweet Michelle's biceps, that man never shuts up), but not one bit of politics. It's a nice change from the last six months of my last job.