Dahlia in Bloom

A Very Fast Shawl

I've been working up a post about comfort reading (it's kind of like comfort food, especially when reading about food), but instead you get pictures of my finished Swallowtail Shawl. I finished it in less than a month, something is wrong with me!
Here it is pre-blocked (on my dirty carpet). A sad, crumpled mess, and tiny.
Here it is blocked. This brought out my obsessive streak with a vengence, to good effect, I think. Both sides look pretty much the same.
I bought my new camera a big memory card. In return, it gave me this picture. I think that makes us engaged.

This Morning's Dahlia

Dahlia

Pictures of Knitting!

With some PowerShot action:

Now with actual detail!
Swallowtail Shawl, in almost actual color!

Extreme close up, evil nupps* and all!

*Purl 5 together was designed by an evil, sadistic genius. Just sayin'. Then again, I guess I'm a masochist for knitting them; my method involves a very sharp size 0 needle and the potential to poke out an eye. I knit dangerously.

Studies in Tomato

I've had a few days off of canning tomatoes, so I can offer these pictures without swearing like a sailor*.


If these pictures seem like a big step up in quality (and size) from any you've seen here previously, it is because I finally bought a decent camera. A Canon PowerShot A530, if you must know. I'm pretty much in love with it; we'll be married soon.

*To be honest, I suspect my Navy brother-in-law, does not swear as much as I do!

Flagrant Disregard for Decent Traffic Behavior

I have an hour commute to work. I don't generally mind: the drive through the country is pretty, and it gives me time to listen to music that Len hates. Unless I am very late, I stay away from the highway, it can make me jittery. Jittery makes for bad driving.

This morning I was late. I took the highway. It is possible that the jitters degraded my powers of observation, but it seemed to me a Honda Accord used a left turn lane as passing lane (in a 35 mph speed zone, in which we were going...35 mph). He passed 5 or 6 cars before zipping into the correct lane. He then had to get back into the left lane to use it for it's intended purpose. I'm quite certain this same Very Important Person believed it was quite beneath him to wait in line to turn right at the next light, and used a parking lot to avoid the inconvenience.

I'm pretty sure he was not following Mr. Karr's Rules.

Some Housekeeping

I added and deleted some links on the side bar. These do not represent everything I have in my Bloglines list, but you might be frightened if you saw them all. Some non-knitting content you might consider:

• Miss Information is often annoyed. I can't blame her;
• On days I suspect there is little good in this world, NPR's This I Believe restores a small amount of faith in humanity (two of my favorites are "Be Cool to the Pizza Dude" and "Always Go to the Funeral" about the importance of kind attention);
• If you are as much of an information nerd as I am (which is almost impossible), Docuticker and Resource Shelf are indispensable. Docuticker gathers a wide variety reports from government agencies, NGOs, think tanks and University working papers (mostly American, but also some Canadian and British). Resource Shelf gathers similar information, but also reviews search engines, wikis, and other resources of particular interest to librarians (who are incorrigible information nerds). Both of these are updated frequently and they can be difficult to keep up with, even with the RSS feed.

What Makes Sense, When So Little Does

I had considering trying to write something yesterday, but I wasn't up to the task. Part of the problem is that I'm not nearly eloquent enough to do the day justice (for a really interesting discussion of where we are 5 years later, see Juan Cole's article).

But the truth is, I'm too sad and angry to say anything coherent. So I think I will show you what I've been knitting, since that is pretty much the only thing that makes sense in my world.
I've actually made progress on Daffodil. You can't tell because it is a deflated sack of thread right now. Because I seem to enjoy telling tales of my extreme idiocy, I offer the latest (actually, not quite the latest, since I have failed to make a pom pom yet again): the stitches on this have been getting very crowded, so I decided to put it on a longer circular needle. Since the easiest-to-get-to-yarn-shop was out of the needle I wanted (to be very specific, an Addi Turbo, 2.5mm 32" needle), I decided to order one. It came a week or so later. Daffodil was already on a 32" needle, negating the need for a new one. Len said, "maybe you should have measured the needle first." I supressed the urge to slap him silly. And ordered a 40" needle.
I also made some progress on the t-shirt. I should have this done sometime this year, but I keep getting distracted. To wit:
This looks like an avoidance tactic, doesn't it? It isn't. It's also more purple than you see here. The wife of a close friend of Len's died of ALS a couple of years ago. She used to play Euchre once a month with a group of friends. These friends started a yearly fundraising tournament in her honor (this year will be the third). Since we don't play Euchre, last year I decided to knit and donate some scarves to the raffle. This is the first scarf for this year. It's in some random wool yarn, size 5 needles, and a stitch pattern from Barbara Walker's first stitch collection called Reverse Herringbone Faggot (I know that is a very old word, pre-dating it's current by centuries, but I still hate it). Hopefully I can get several done before November 18.
This, on the other hand, is total distraction knitting. The yarn is my copper dyed yarn. This pattern is from the current issue of Interweave Knits. Why am I knitting it, with so many other projects going? Don't ask stupid questions.
I need 14 repeats of this pattern before beginning edging number one. This is near the end of repeat 11. I completely adore how the leaves come off the center spine.

I have failed a second time

Last night's second attempt at a pom-pom, this time with an official pom-pom maker, ended in failure. And bits of yarn flying everywhere. No. I did not take pictures. I figure I'll keep trying until I, a. make a decent pom-pom, b. run out of yarn, or c. see the baby for whom the pom-pom is intended. Whichever comes first. Hopefully c. because I'm really sick of thinking about pom-poms (although, it's more pleasant than thinking about our rotten government).

In lieu of knitting pictures, I present to you:
A door. Not a fairy door. A bedroom Len was working in last week looks out on this scene and my crummy camera took a surprisingly nice picture.

I'm Back

I'm back in the Land of High-Speed-Internet and e-mail. I'd gladly give it all up to not be work*.

I was not, I am sorry to say, on vacation. Len's parents own a few rental properties in Ann Arbor's student ghetto. Because Len's father is increasingly unable (an issue I will not go into, given the complications of their relationship), Len has been taking over management. Apartment/house changeover at the end of August (leases in Ann Arbor run September to end of August) is traditionally extremely busy; students move out as late as possible and their replacements try to move in as early as possible. Landlords have to try to get the rentals clean, painted and carpeted between move out and move in. It's a dicey operation under the best of circumstances, but this year was Len's first year mostly in charge. He was down a few people: his sister and her handy husband just had twins and their regular professional cleaner had bypass surgery a few months ago so Len assumed was not able to work (never assume, as it turns out). Add to that the emotionally and physically complicating factor of his father and a mother with brand-spanking new grandbabies. What do you have? Stressed out Len.

I took last week off to lend a hand. And let me just say. Undergraduate and graduate students are pigs. I cleaned under a stovetop which had not been touched in a year (the thing to hold the stovetop up was still taped down). I scrubbed an extremely disgusting floor with Comet. I cleaned refrigerators which had never seen a sponge. I am happy to say I did not have to clean anyone's bathroom (except one which was left in very good shape by the previous tenants). Nasty nasty business.

One of the buildings has a parking lot which is much larger than necessary, so they rent out parking spaces mostly to the neighboring fraternity house. When Len and I first start dating I was horrified by the cars in that lot: Lexus SUVs, Jeep Cherokees (actually those where so last year), BMWs. This year, though, was the worst. A Hummer 2. Seriously. What moron sends their child to school with a fucking Hummer??? Don't answer that, I don't want to know. Personally, I don't quite understand having a car that isn't the old family beater while in college, but I guess things have changed in 20 years.

By the way: Thanks Barb, for the compliments on the little hat! I will hopefully put up pictures of the boy hat soon, if I can figure out how to make a pom-pom, that is.

*Actually, I rather like my job, even on days that I am bored to tears. But when there is knitting, weaving, tomatoes, basil, and all manner of other fun things to do at home (in the Land of Very Slow Dial-Up), well, let's just say, I will (in about 30 years) make a very fine retired person.

My Needles Fell on Some Yarn...

...And this came out:
I have to say, I pleased as punch with this little hat. Len's sister had twins a couple of weeks ago (a girl and a boy), so this is for the girl (Madelyn Mae).

I made it out of the yarn left over from Waving Laces, Louet Gems Pearl (Aqua). 96 stitches on #2 needles, picot hem, and an eyelet pattern from Barbara Walker's A Treasury of Knitting Patterns. Seriously. I'm in love with this hat!

I'll be using some leftover yarn for the boy's (Max) hat as well. The Harley riding, tatooed father has requested a pom-pom. Obviously I have to make a pom-pom.

Girl Shoes

Danger! Those are 3.5" heels!

How about with Waving Laces?

Umm....Ouch.
Much more comfortable!

I know you had doubts about the severity of my dorkiness. Now you know.

Tomato Sludge

The cucumbers are finally fading away and the tomatoes are starting to ripen. So far just the little Sweet 100s and Yellow Pears are making a showing in significant numbers. Tomato Sludge (roasted tomatoes) is one of my favorite things to do with them:
Cut the tomatoes in half, throw in some unpeeled garlic cloves and herbs (rosemary and thyme in this case), sprinkle with salt, pepper and coat with olive oil. Throw it in a very low oven (200-250 degrees) for 5 or 6 hours, stirring every so often. It's done when the tomatoes have carmelized a bit.
Pop the garlic out of it's skin, pick out the twiggy parts of the herbs and you have the most divine essence of tomato. Spread the garlic on bread, pile on some tomatoes and eat. Fling it over pasta (trust me, your carnivore boyfriend won't complain). I plan to throw this in some risotto next time I make it (maybe tomorrow). Stand over the oven and eat it with a spoon. I swear, this is god's own food.

Media Consumption

It seems I haven't posted about books since June. Even though I've been so busy with the garden and falling into bed exhausted, I really have gotten some reading done!

I have long since finished Assassination Vacation. And Partly Cloudy Patriot. And Take the Cannoli. Hello. My name is Lee. I'm addicted to Sarah Vowell. Who could help it? She's funny, she's macabre, and she is a complete dork. A history dork at that, who should be writing history textbooks. Who else will tell you that Garfield (or was it McKinley?) was such a bookworm that it was hard to tear him away from his books for official events and in an commencement address, he told a graduating University class that he was very sorry that their years in school were because now they wouldn't have time to read?! Or that Chester Arthur (bet you don't remember him) pushed through legislation he thoroughly disagreed with as a tribute to Garfield (civil service reform)? I had to write a report about Chester when I was in 7th grade and have a soft spot for him ever since, even if he was a bit on the corrupt side.

Partly Cloudy and Cannoli are both essay collections. The Partly Cloudy essays were written after 9/11 and is sad, angry, defiant and funny. It's very much worth reading, especially if you are a proud liberal and sick of being told how unpatriotic you are. Cannoli is much lighter fare; the title essay refers to her obsession with the Godfather movies when she was in college.

Then I couldn't find Radio On, Vowell's first book, in town (well. ok, I could, but it was at Border's and I have very mixed feelings about Border's, and a month or so ago I decided I couldn't go there anymore and.. never mind, it's a long story of dashed childhood expectations). So I've been reading Molly Ivins' Who Let the Dogs In (I bought it at Nicola's, if you must know), a collection of columns dating back to the Reagan era. It is very sad to read her describe how much the income gap grew during the Reagan and Bush I years and know how much worse it will get under Bush II. She continues to be optimistic that this country can work it's way back from this disaster of an administration. I'm less sure every day.

Will you hate me if I stop listening to the news?

In music: Sonic Youth's Rather Ripped is a stunner of an album. It's gorgeous, edgy punk at it's beautiful best. Sonic Youth was always one of those bands who I just didn't really get, the way I don't get David Bowie or Steely Dan. They don't suck, I'm just not smart enough to understand what they're doing. Rather Ripped is an album of songs. That I get.

On DVD: Len and I have acquired an severe addiction to Trailer Park Boys. It's a Canadian mockumentary about the shenanigans of Ricky and Julian as they engage in semi-legitimate business between jail terms. Um. Yeah. That show is so wrong on so many levels. It makes me very happy to know that our neighbors to the north have red necks, too.

"Dope dope dopity dope dope" to you, too!

Pickles!

I know everyone was desperate to know what happened to my first garden harvest. Ok, maybe you weren't.
This picture shows many harvests of cucumbers. Along with the kosher-style dills (of varying, and increasing, garlic strengths) there are sweet and dill relishes and two small jars of roasted jalapenos (now that was a tedious job!)

I am sick to death of cucumbers.

My Yarn

Here is my contribution to the kool-aid dyeing party. The colors here aren't even close: the purple is less muddy and green is a bright lime. The color combination is gorgeous, but I can't take credit. When I signed up for the knitting listserv, KnitTalk, one of the first messages I read was from someone who had used purple and green kool-aid. As I recall, she dyed the yarn while it was in a ball, purple on one side and green on the other and she hoped where the colors met in the middle would be brownish. Cool idea. She said it worked out, except that trying to skein a wet ball of yarn was Not Fun. What I did with the yarn was even more idiotic. I had two balls of DK merino (what brand you ask? Um. Debbie Bliss? Jaeger? Rowan? Something like that). I wanted to dye them both at the same time. I wanted a long skein. Do you see how this train is headed to Crazy Town? I held two strands of the yarn together and made myself a skein on the warping board, which made a figure eight. Or an infinity sign. The warping board was the lesser of the two evils. What I should have asked myself when holding those two strands together was, "how, pray tell, will you get them apart, as, inevitably you must?" I did not ask that question until it was much too late. Then there were tears, sweat, recriminations. It was bad. Len was patience personified.

Other than that really dumb decision, the dyeing went off with only a couple of hitches. I used four or five packets of each color (grape and lime) in 1/2 cup of water and I used squirt bottles to get it directly onto the yarn. The yarn sucked it up really fast: when I squeezed the yarn to make sure the dye was getting all the way in, the liquid came out clear. Once I was done, I microwaved it for 4 minutes (2 minute increments). I ended up having to add more dye later because of white spots, but I think I'm close enough to full coverage now (there are some lighter spaces, but it seems to be mostly shading).

These will probably be socks. After I finish the Kool-Aid Socks, of course. Yes, really, "of course".

More with the Kool-Aid

You would think dyeing with kool-aid with an 11 year old and a 4 year old would elicit cries of "I want to drink it!", followed by red and orange children. But no, my sister apparently raised her children to believe that kool-aid is repulsive (good for her!) and, aside from black fingers and red and orange knees, they remained dye-free. I didn't really need to bother with smocks for them -- I'm smart enough to remember the smocks, but not gloves.

I got a big hank of that New Zealand Wool Pak (10 ply if you're counting) and divided into four roughly equal hanks. That turned out to be a really good decision, since we had too many colors to use in one shot (we were just grabbing them off the shelf at Meijer), and they had two canvasses to play with. They used pink lemonade, Magic Cherry (which is teal), tropical punch, something blue, grape, lemon lime, and Mandarina Tangerina. They did not use the Black Cherry after I said I thought it looked like blood (Cierra, the 4 year old responded that she does not drink blood. Thanks for clearing that up. 'Cos I wondered).
Here is a close(r) up of Cierra's yarn. Her first one is on the right and is half orange and half pink and blue. The second one, left, started out with a lot of colors, then she covered it in grape. Go figure. I actually really like how that one turned out.
Here are Imani's. Her first one is on the left. She was very glad to have another chance, since she doesn't like it that much (she tried to make it colorful, but the orange sort of took over and made everything muddy). The second one is much more to her liking, and I can't wait to see it knitted up. I think for the muddy one, we'll cook up a very strong batch of orange and try to brighten it up.

Foul Morning

So, I woke up this morning to discover that not only did moderate(ish) Schwarz lose against that wingnut Walberg, he lost by a lot. According to MLive.com (the website under which many Michigan Newspapers live), "The former church pastor vowed to vote against pork-laden spending plans and tax increases while maintaining a firm line against the expansion of abortion and gay marriage." 'Cos you know, those abortionists and gays are running amok in Jackson County.

Feh.

This was before I got out of bed. At which point I discovered Judy had ripped apart another knitting bag (the one I failed to shove in a closet). Gwen, who has much higher standards of neatness than either Len or I, was crouching on the pile of the dirty clothes Len left in the living room last night. While Len deserved for those clothes to be peed on, my carpet did not, so I had to do something I avoid like the plague: touch Len's dirty laundry. You have no idea how disgusting his dirty clothes are.

Let me mention here: all before coffee. Just sayin'. Pre-caffinated, pre-allergy pill me is not pretty. Not at all.

Wah wah wah. Poor me. But seriously? I'm going to be represented in the U.S. House of Representatives by a fucking asshat. Right now I'd really rather worry about dirty laundry of the sweaty kind.

Experiments

I couldn't be more thrilled with how the Kool-Aid sock is turning out. It seems to be coming up with it's own, weird, psychedelic effect. A good amount of this was accomplished on Sunday while at the Yarn Harlot's reading and book signing. Many have sung the praises of the Harlot, and indeed, she is wonderful. But I have to give props to two unsung heros: my friend Stef's husband, who rolled up my car windows so I wouldn't have to drive home in a flooded car. And my darling Len. When I returned from my knitterly fun, I discovered that he had (in the heat and the humidity) weeded a bunch of my flower garden and made me a mix cd. This cd included a song by the John Spencer Blues Explosion (if you are at work, turn your computer's sound off) that doesn't make me want to put someone's eyes out, which took some serious thinking on Len's part.

By the way, the Ann Arbor District Public Library filmed the event and will be broadcasting it on Ann Arbor's Community TV. Keep an eye on the AADL-TV website for the air date. If you're in Ann Arbor. If not, go to Toronto.

On to other things, before I start digressing into my "going to Canda" stories. No one wants to read those.
And here we have another Faye sample* (you can see the first sample here, scroll down). This is really different from that first piece. The diamonds are much bigger in this one, which is really interesting to me because there are fewer purl stitches between the stockinette columns in this one; the major difference seems to be where the first crossing happens. In the first sample, it happens immediately (which involved some faking to get two stockinette stitches to cross). In this one, I started leaning the stockinette lines towards each other to get the architectural effect that I like so much in the original. I don't like, however, how big the diamonds are, so I will try decreasing the number of purls between the columns from 6 to 4 and see how that goes. I have a few more ideas to play with if that doesn't work.

I wouldn't mind trying to accomplish the gathered effect of the original. I think this may be a simple matter of increasing in the bottom half of each diamond and decreasing in the top half. Maybe?

*These aren't really swatches, in that I'm really only playing around with the smocking pattern. Unless I fall head over heels for the yarn and gauge. Then, I guess it is a swatch.

Weaving!

Despite being cute as the dickens, Judy has a couple of major flaws. One* of them is that she has been a terrible influence on Simon and Gwen. If I left yarn out on a table, they might have found it irresistible, but mostly they left my bags (and bags, etc.) of knitting alone. Not Judy. Judy gets into everything, and drags Simon and Gwen into the fun. Now that all yarn has been put away, they have started in on the sad, lonely warp which has been sitting on my loom for months, waiting to be threaded and wound on.

Messy and very tempting.

Worse than not being threaded at all, this warp has been sleyed and partially threaded for months. I couldn't even stick it in a closet to avoid the guilt.
I spent most of Saturday finishing the threading, and winding the warp onto the loom.

This should be a little more difficult for the cats to destroy, but I won't put it past them. If I don't go into some sort of cleaning frenzy this weekend (ha!), I should get this tied onto the front and discover where all of the threading errors are. At which time, I will be pounding my head and gnashing my teeth.
My little bundle of nerouses, Gwen, supervised. I need to vacuum the bed again.

* Judy's other big flaw is that she doesn't like us that much. There is nothing quite so disheartening as approaching a kitten you've had for 8 months and her shrinking from your touch. Seriously. You'd think we abuse her, but she won't let us that close. She loves Gwen and Simon, though. So that's something.

Five Questions

A cute little questionnaire from The Friday Five (or What to Post When You Have Nothing Really To Say):

The Friday Five for 28 July 2006 :: The Name Game!!!
This week's questions brought to you courtesy of kaos1385


1. Are you named after anyone? If so, explain. I was named after a woman who was either a friend or a student's of my Dad's. I've never been clear on their relationship, but I don't think it had anything to do with my name, my parents just liked it. My middle name, Jeannette, was my dad's aunt's name, and his sister's.

2. Do you have your children's names picked out already? If so, is there any significance? Yep. If we have a girl, her name will be Lucinda (after Lucinda Williams). Len thinks if we have a boy we'll name him H Ridley Schnegelsberg. H is his middle name, Ridley is my last name. Pray for a girl, ok?

3. If you were born a member of the opposite sex what would your name have been? Probably the same.

4. If you could re-name yourself what name would you pick and why? I don't think I would. I like my name.

5. Are there any mispronunciations/typos that people do w/ your name constantly? It's pretty hard to mispronounce my name. I get occasional misspellings (Leigh, mostly) and sometimes get called Lea. Sometimes I get asked if it stands for anything.

Why I'm Voting...

...In the August 8th Republican Primary

I live in Jackson County, Michigan. According to Michigan folklore, Jackson is the birthplace of the Republican party,which, at the time was a reaction against "slave power", which I suppose gives the place some good abolitionist history, but the county continues to be strongly Republican in it's conservative incarnation. No Democrat will be elected to the U.S. House of Representatives from this county. So the Republican Primary is pretty much my chance to cast a vote for the person who will represent me.

This year, there is a choice. The incumbent, Joe Schwarz was elected to the U.S. House in 2004; he is being challenged by Tim Walberg. There are some big differences between the two, and while this district won't help change which party controls the House, I think it will help determine the tone.

Walberg accuses Schwarz of being a Liberal. While I happen to think that isn't an insult, I'm not delusional. Schwarz isn't liberal, he's a Republican because that is the party that best fits his political beliefs. He's pro-Iraq war, against the estate tax (at least he refers to it that way more often than "death tax"), for the Patriot Act. Eh. Read his page yourself.

But he is no wingnut. He is pro-choice, for embryonic stem cell research, against drilling in Alaska (and in the Great Lakes). He is against the ban on same sex marriage in Michigan.

I generally think Schwarz is a stand up guy and he genuinely wants what is best for Michigan and for this country. Unless the Democrats stand a candidate that doesn't try to out-conservative the Republican, I'll vote for him again in the general election in November. Do I agree with everything he does? No. But I believe he makes the U.S. House a better place. And, in these times, that's a start.

T-Shirt Woes

Despite not carpooling with Len, I have been working on the v-neck t-shirt. Make that, I have been trying to work on it, but instead I've been knitting and ripping the same 5 rows. I finally got to the point that I could divide for the v-neck and start adding stitches for the sleeve. The instructions for these maneuvers aren't exactly difficult, but my brain seems to have fallen out.

My first problem was deciding whether or not I was actually ready to start the neck and sleeves. This involved a tape measure, three different measurements, a lot of sweat, some tears, possibly swearing, and a very frightened boyfriend (he finally left the house). I finally decided that the pieces match closely enough.

The first instruction is to increase in the first stitch*, knit 80, turn. For some reason I think this means I should have 81 stitches on my right needle. I continue with this for a few rows. I finally realized something was wrong, counted the stitches which will make up the other side of the v-neck, and of course, there aren't enough. There aren't enough by 5 or 6 stitches. It took me a couple of times ripping these rows out for it to dawn on me what was going on.

I had made a working copy of the pattern; it is possible I had noted on that pattern which size I was making (or not) but I've lost the copy. I was assuming I was making the largest size. Looking at the pattern measurements, I certainly should have been making that size, but no, I am making one size smaller. Maybe I measured under my boobs when I started this folly? Perhaps delusions of smallness? In any case, someone is getting a v-neck t-shirt for Christmas and it probably isn't me.

Instead of a picture of knitting, I give you my first harvest of the year:
I had no idea that the pickling cucumbers would put out so early. It will be a frenzy of pickling at our house for the rest of the summer.

*An odd instruction for a Jaeger pattern. They usually give more thought to seaming.

Crummy Pictures of Pretty Garden

I want a decent camera for my birthday. But at least you can't see the weeds. Much.
The leeks, pickles and peppers are doing very well, in spite of my inattentive weeding.
The tomatoes have gone so wild, you can't see the grass growing up underneath the plants. You can, however, see our pathetic attempt to tie the plants up. We'll see if this works, the tomato cages I used last year so did not.
Despite our not-really-best efforts, something keeps eating our broccoli and sugar snap pea plants. So far we have tried fencing in the garden (with a lovely gate held closed by a bucket of rocks and beer cans), but whatever is getting in is small enough to get through. I've also tried black pepper. The creature seems to like it's vegetables spicy. The two or three bean plants that came up look nice though. So that's something.
Look! Jalapenos! (And yes, I do know there should be an accent over the 'n')
And a red bell pepper. How cool is it that you can stick a plant in the ground and a few months later get food?

Lay and worse

One more small bit on Ken Lay: The worst part of this whole scenario is that Texas law holds that if the convicted dies before sentencing, the conviction (and indictment) is vacated. Apparently the point of that law is he can no longer participate in his defense in the sentencing hearing and any subsequent appeals. Being dead and all. So, officially, he is no longer guilty. While he certainly is in all but the most deluded minds, there is a practical problem: the former Enron employees who are suing him can no longer use the trial and conviction as evidence, because they never happened. Officially. The government* won't be able to seize assets to make restitution because they are no longer the assets of a guilty man.

You know what my mother would call Ken Lay's death? A Fuck You Message.

*Let's just pretend the government would have managed to seize Lay's "meager" $10 million. No really. Stop laughing.

I was just working out something to say about the Middle East, when I hopped over to Franklin's The Panopticon. Whatever I had to say, he says far better. I do want to recommend, however, if you are interested in the What and Why of the Middle East, read Juan Cole's blog Informed Comment. He writes lengthy and frequent posts, which provide the context that the American media can't or won't.

Ken Lay

Is it just me, or do you feel kind of cheated now that he's dead?

Last night, NPR repeated his "I'm living the American nightmare" witness stand whine. You know that nightmare? The where you recklessly drive your business into a tree, taking your employees and their retirement funds with you? But you survive, only to die of a heart attack in your vacation home, near Aspen, instead of in prison where you belonged. That American nightmare.

Not the one where you are unemployed without a retirement fund because you believed the CEO's Go-Go rhetoric.

What an unsatisfying ending.