It’s Friday, so it’s time for SAPPY CAT BLOGGING. Today, it’s the British Big Cat Society!. Dedicated to preserving the leopards, lynx, cougars, jungle cats, and wildcats that are wandering around the British Isles. Hmm.
All they need is a Tiger to complete the set. I think it’s wonderful that not only are there native big cats in the UK–Kellas cats and wildcats, but escapees that have gone native and are wandering around. Here’s some more information:
Via Breda, I learn of this: Queer the Census. Gee. Giving an entity with a huge budget and a whole bunch of agents trained in the use of force a list of historically persecuted people? What couldn’t possibly ever go wrong with that? And didn’t someone try this, like eighty years ago? Joe Huffman has something to say about that.
I just watched Appaloosa, a film that Ed Harris adapted from one of Robert B. Parker’s westerns. They did a good job. Ordinarily, I’m not much of a movie guy*, and I don’t like to watch movies made from books I liked, because the director’s vision and mine rarely coincide and the dissonance irks me.
Harris was very faithful to the book and to Parker’s vision, and as Harris co-wrote, directed, produced, acted in the lead role and wrote and performed the closing theme–well this whole project was his train set. And it worked.
*No, really. The last movie that I saw in a theater was “Night at the Museum” and that was about three years ago.
Swedish Cat commemoratives. There is a correlation with the number of ginger cats (an X-linked recessive trait) and the depredations and colonization of the Vikings. Evidently, they were into redheads.
She wanted a scandium-framed S&W in .44 mag., because she’s a horsepower junkie and it’s nice and light for a purse gun. I thought the second-shot time was unacceptably long in a 27 ounce gun that flops in your hand like a fresh-caught fish. (She pointed out that with a .44 you don’t need to worry about a second shot. I told you she’s into horsepower>)
The poetry of Emily Dickinson shares the meter (and therefore can be sung to) the tunes of both The Yellow Rose of Texas and the theme to Gilligan’s Island.
It was not death, for I stood up,
And all the dead lie down.
It was not night, for all the bells
Put out their tongues for noon.I dwell in Possibility –
A fairer House than Prose –
More numerous of Windows –
Superior – for Doors –
See?
William The Coroner's Forensic Files 
Too Late To Apologize
Hat tip, Lili.
I couldn’t quite figure out who everyone was, and Franklin’s bald wig was really rather poor. But still, I liked it.