From a police report cited in The Washington Post:
The undercover officer was monitoring the restroom on June 11. A few minutes after noon, Craig entered and sat in the stall next to him. Craig began tapping his right foot, touched his right foot to the left foot of the officer and brushed his hand beneath the partition between them. He was then arrested.
Hot stuff, right? Want to know who Craig is? Click here for the full story. Then come back here and we can talk about hypocrisy.
I promise not to keep cannibalising The Onion, but this one is too good not to share with anyone foolish enough not to subscribe already. You know who you are.
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Not really the work of writers at all (and maybe the term isn’t intended to cover this type of urban artist), but of illustrators, and looking as though they were all produced, in any case, by a single person (presumably M. Jef Aerosol), these three pieces of street art were seen within a hundred metres of one another in the rue Mouffetard area. Presumably stencils were used, which takes the spontaneity out of the whole business, but it’s hard not to enjoy them all the same, particularly the cheeky mooner at the top.
I’ve just done a little research, something I should have done earlier, and discovered that Jef Aerosol is actually a well-known artist with a CV as long as rue Mouffetard itself. If you’re as ignorant as I was until a few moments ago, you can find out more by going to his site. You’ll feel as ashamed as I did. I wonder if he’s as rich as Banksy. More to the point, I wonder who came first.
And if you have any ideas as to the significance of the rather disturbing image in the bottom photograph, I’d be interested to hear them.
If you’d like to pre-order your copy of Little Monsters from Amazon (a mere six months before the publication date), you can do so by clicking here. If, on the other hand, you’d simply like to admire the jacket image, here it is.
And here’s the synopsis:
When I was thirteen my father killed my mother.
How do you recover from something like that? Carol never quite does. She’s sent to live with her aunt, who barely tolerates her presence, much less makes her welcome. Grief-stricken, and all too aware she’s not wanted, Carol is prickly and awkward. Desperate for love, but unable to ask for it, she nonetheless – and almost despite herself – finds it, perhaps where she least expected: her Uncle Joey is the only one to notice her when she’s a teenager; years later, when she knows him as Jozef and he’s sacrificed more for her than she can really comprehend, he’s also the man with whom she builds a home and a life. But when Carol helps to rescue a young refugee from the sea, that life suddenly threatens to unravel, just as surely as it did when she was thirteen. Written in tight, spare prose, “Little Monsters” is a novel of creation, redemption and obsession; it’s also the story of what it’s like to experience the unthinkable – and what happens next.
Remember Adnan Oktar? Of course you don’t. He’s the nutter behind the Atlas of Creation, a lavishly produced load of anti-evolution shite mass-mailed throughout Europe, as well as attempts to outlaw Darwinism in his own country and others. You can read more about all this here.
The Ministry of Truth now has a fascinating post about his latest efforts to impose his loopy agenda on the world, as is usual with revealed truth cranks by trying to shut other people up. Thanks to Mr Oktar and his gang of lawyers, all WordPress blogs are now banned in Turkey. If you’re Turkish and want to carry on reading this or any other Blogspot blog, don’t breathe a word to Oktar…
I’ve steered clear of 9/11 conspiracy theory until now, but an article by Robert Fisk in today’s Independent admits that the ‘facts’ we have don’t add up. With admirable reluctance, he says:
But – here we go. I am increasingly troubled at the inconsistencies in the official narrative of 9/11. It’s not just the obvious non sequiturs: where are the aircraft parts (engines, etc) from the attack on the Pentagon? Why have the officials involved in the United 93 flight (which crashed in Pennsylvania) been muzzled? Why did flight 93’s debris spread over miles when it was supposed to have crashed in one piece in a field? Again, I’m not talking about the crazed “research” of David Icke’s Alice in Wonderland and the World Trade Center Disaster – which should send any sane man back to reading the telephone directory.
I am talking about scientific issues.
One of the things I’ve noticed most often when I’ve mentioned my own doubts about the official version, in passing, to friends (because I try not to let my natural scepticism towards government slip over into a farcical over-estimation of its ability – there lies crankdom) is how few people know about the collapse of the third tower, some nine hours later than the other two and without apparent external assistance.
Frank sent me a photograph of this shop front he found in Cookham, which he thought might amuse me. My cottaging days are long gone, but it’s sweet to be reminded.
In the meantime I came across this sign in Paris, which rings horribly true after a summer of northern European rain and too much good food.
I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist this. It’s from 1986.http://www.youtube.com/v/r5vLZAIsepQ
CHARLES LAMBERT 