… reveals his bona fides. We’re proud to have him.
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Interesting bio, no? I am sure there is more to the story than the bare outline Wretchard offers. But does it matter? One of the virtues of anonymity is that the words must stand on their own without reference to the author. That is to say, anonymity possesses some of the virtues of a double blind experiment. Speaking for myself, I sometimes find my interpretation of an article biased by my knowledge of the author, so anonymity offers a certain sort of purity.
No, no, no… Are you trying to tell us he is not a partially employed, badly educated white man with bad hygiene?
Do you think Gary Trudeau will fall for that for one second?
Chuck, you have a point. I’m not sure that Wretchard really needed to step out from behind his curtain like this. Except for his name, he didn’t tell us anything that regular readers of Belmont Club couldn’t have guessed. He writes like a man of education and experience. Clearly, he has strong ties to both the Phillipines and Australia. And from the general timing of his posts, it wasn’t hard to deduce that he lives far from North America. I don’t think this information changes my perception of him at all. As you say, his bio doesn’t make the blog; it’s what he writes in it.
Reminds me, though, that I should check in more frequently with Outside the Beltway to see what’s up with Robert Tagorda, another fine blogger who is a Filipino emigre and Harvard-educated, although I’m guessing he’s rather younger than Wretchard. Tagorda blogs about the Dodgers, too, which drew me to his original blog, Boomshock/Priorities & Frivolities.
Well, he hasn’t even been to J-School, so what could he know anyhow?
Hey, the man has a Masters from Harvard. For all of us partially employed and poorly educated white people that is a big deal.
That “somewhat foolish” epithet is going to cost him with nonimaginary cats (like mine).
How hard could it be to get a Masters from Harvard? W has one.
Doug S.,
Read down the the comment thread on the post before the disclosure post and the reason will be apparent.
Terrye,
“For all of us partially employed and poorly educated white people that is a big deal.”
Not all of us. I’m adopting a hermeneutic of suspicion from now on.
I had just checked out Belmont, and saw W’s post. Then I dropped in here because of the Pajama Connection. Of course Roger was on the case already. Good to know that the Cat is now in the open and not subject to a “Wilson moment”.
It is clear from his trenchant analysis over the past year that he has not been affiliated with the CIA. Too bad he isn’t now. I hope for the safety of our country that some of those folks have half his intelligence, analytical ability, felicity of expression and candor.
They should be trying to hire him as we blog.
ìReminds me, though, that I should check in more frequently with Outside the Beltway to see what’s up with Robert Tagorda, another fine blogger who is a Filipino emigre and Harvard-educated.î
And letís not forget the insightful Hugh Hewitt. He also attended Harvard University. How did these individuals avoid being severely damaged by the experience? I might be viciously unfair (and bigoted?), but I consider many, if not most soft science graduates of Harvard to be members of the idiot class. Well, it looks like there are at least a few exceptions.
Time for me to come clean, I suppose. I’m not Pat Curley, but Yelruc Kcirtap. I was trained by Tibetan Monks and given the power to cloud men’s minds, with the result that I am invisible to attractive women and store clerks.
Well, invisibility should improve your love life; gotta be easier to duck and dodge that Mace and pepper spray, huh?
Buddy -
Well, invisibility should improve your love life; gotta be easier to duck and dodge that Mace and pepper spray, huh?
Man, that was brutal… almost (dare I type it?.. Yes!) Hitchesque.
mrp,
Remember, Buddy’s a Texan and the mating ritual down there is… well, different. At least it was for Buddy, apparently.
,,,but, I was just playing along with ole Yelruc Kcirtap, of Tibet.
Rick -
LOL!
Yeah. The ladies are mighty feisty down in the Lone Star State. There’s a town, I hear, named Cut’n Shoot.
Texas, where responsible fathers teach their little girls how to shoot and shift a manual transmission.
yeh–it’s just north of Houston…Roy Harris, native son, fought Floyd Patterson for the world heavyweight champeenship–way back in the 60s or thereabouts.
Buddy,
What’s the name of the BIG C&W bar in Houston – big like 3,000 per night. I remember the evening but I’ve forgotten the name.
I’m adopting a hermeneutic of suspicion from now on.
I adopted a couple of cats last year.
Probably cost less in the long run.
I wish you hadn’t asked me–now i’ll never remember–until 4AM, when it’ll wake me up. Starts with a “G”–John Travolta killed it with Urban Cowboy…never was cool after that. GILLEY’S! Ah…not 100% senile quite yet….
Charlie–they adopted you.
Buddy and Rick,
Well, I really, really respected him till I learned he was a Harvard man…
/Singing: From the tables down at Mory’s,
To the place where Louie dwells,
To the dear old Temple bar we know so well…
Jamie Irons
Buddy, unfortunately my peeping and shoplifting days are over…
Took a Barcelona attorney who was visiting my family out to Gilley’s in ’80 just after the movie came out, and he killed it. He bought new Levis, boots and hat for the occasion, and could barely move when we got there on account of the stiff denim and leather. I think he was still limping when we put him on the plane back to Spain and Gilley’s never the same after the Euro-urbanite went. Very nice man, though.
A few years before I matriculated at Yale…
(and started matriculatin’ the ball down the old gridiron with Calvin Hill and Brian Dowling (the latter the inspiration for Gary Trudeau’s B.D., more’s the pity…))
President Kennedy was granted an honorary degree at Yale, and famously quipped at his acceptance of same:
Now I have the best of both worlds, a Harvard education and a Yale degree…
Jamie Irons
Jamie, where the heck is the place that Louie dwells, anyhow? I never knew.
Jamie, did you take classes in the art of nuance with the other JFK?
Kyda really wants to know if the place where Louie dwells has a crawlspace with a booze locker.
Jamie Irons ó Matriculation is nothing to be ashamed of, but do it in private… and wash your hands afterward…
Calvin Hill–THAT was a running back.
Buddy Larsen ó Cats adopt people the way the Goths adopted the Roman Empire…
mrp ó We’d tell her, but we’re poor little sheep who’ve lost our way, baa, baa, baa…
Kyda has a lush imagination.
Richard–right, “You’re here to feed me,” said the Cat.
Jamie,
He’s really Andrew ‘Ender’ Wiggins, anyway. The rest is all cover.
Buddy,
Yeah, Gilley’s, ’76 or ’78 – “My Head Hurts” and “Sunday Morning Coming Down” as closers. No chicken wire around the stage – I didn’t run into that until Bakersfiesld and San Jose. Gilley’s was an interesting place and the people were clean and well lit. Not rough at all. All part of my continuing education project, of course.
mrp–I don’t think I ever went any place in New Haven that didn’t have a crawlspace with a booze locker.
baa, baa, baa…
Along the banks of the Olentangey, anyone who sang the Whiffenpoof song became a target of …. derision.
Bakersfield–Buck Owens, Robbie Fulks–good sound–distinct. Fulks is a major subversive.
On the other hand, I never heard anyone at Ohio State use the word ‘derision’ in a sentence.
I once spent a night on the town with a contingent of Duke’s Men and no matter how drunk we got them, we could not get them to baa, baa baa. The Whiffinpoofs would be happy to hear that.
My father, a Columbia man, sang barbershop. Although they would sing The Whiffinpoof Song in private, they would never have considered performing it publicly. It’s like some sort of sacred text or something.
Olentangey–OSU?
Oh Lord. Do I owe you another Coke?
Mrp,
Stay away from my goddamn crawlspace.
Kate The Cursed -
I never dreamed of visiting your infernal crawlspace, but now that you mentioned it, please send pic.
Perhaps not since we didn’t post at the same time. Maybe you could just put rum in my other coke (I like that 151 stuff that comes from the Islands).
Just my luck. Plying Ivy League booze on a Big Ten salary.
How many of you are under there, anyway?
Why, I always heard you Big Ten guys had rather large, um, portfolios.
Why yes, yes we do. I have mine right here on my spreadsheet.
Hey, wait a minute! I’m the product of twelve years of parochial school and CCD. Are your intentions … honorable?
Mrp,
I donít want any harm visited on youÖ a pic of that crawlspace can cause serious distress.
Katherine from Hell
Hey, what’s goin’ on in here… Uh, nevermind. Eases out and closes door.
Oh, as honorable as the day is long (I have about 2 more hours of daylight here).
Hades Katie -
No harm can come to me, for I am pure of heart.
A wise woman! Otherwise, how would she know that I behave during Daylight Honor Time?
Durn. Their boyfriends showed up.
This thread is gonna need about 500cc of penicillin.
Well, I can’t tell you how proud it makes me to have helped debauch yet another thread. You guys are bad influences.
Bad influences??? Have you never heard of Kismet?
Threads are ruled by the stars.
Buddy Larsen ó Depending on their mood, my cats regarded me as either The Kibble God or Furniture That Feeds Us…
Well, cats know a lot about crawlspaces, with or without 151-proof rum. Four unfixed tomcats have been known to attempt the Whiffenpoof Song in a parking lot near the Yale Medical School, if you’re not picky about accuracy of pitch– and Jamie probably knows why Yale has never had a vet school. (This thread is definitely acquiring a Virginia Woolfish quality).
Penicillin?!!!
I dunno, Katherine. Any chance he’s calling us this? (scroll to 3rd picture)
No, no, no, not the real yez, the thread persona yez.
“That was no lady, that was my wife!”
Here, I found y’all, in the upper left corner:
It’s a bad move to get on the wrong side of this gal.
Kyda,
I really would not advise anybody to cross Hades Katie. People who triedÖ well, letís not go into the detailsÖ>:D
Tenors forever, huh?
Terrye probably helped.
It took me a while to figure out the connection between the contretemps that occured last night and the latest post on Ms. Seipp’s website.
You, too, can enjoy the visceral pleasure of discovery by googling “Michael Levine Oliver Stone”.
(Note to self: Stay the hell out of LA.)
Mrp
And SF. Thatís where the infernal, goddamn crawlspace is located. Not to mentions the Hades Katie who guards it and the booze inside.
Okay, mrp, I’m stumped–my google comes up with nothin’. Buddy, what the hell does McEnroe think he’s doing using my likeness without permission?!
Katie, don’t twist my arm!
uhhhh… What kinda booze you got, anyway? Not that I’m partikalar…
Kyda -
Okay, mrp, I’m stumped–my google comes up with nothin’.
Gee, is now the time to say ‘never mind’? Oww! Oof!
The site I visited listed Michael Levine as the reporter for the article announcing the dreaded Oliver Stone 9/11 movie – not the Michael Levine of Tinsletown fame. Sorry, I blew it. I am viscerally embarrased.
High quality CA wines, my friend.
Guarded by Hades Katie with her trusty Glock.
Oh that’s quite alright. I understand completely. You’ve got your mind in the crawlspace again.
The Charming, Intelligent, Overwhelmingly Beautiful Miss Katherine -
Your virtue, your expensive plonk, and your Glock are ever in my thoughts. Best wishes from a gratefully distant mrp.
Dear Mrp,
And thereby we prove one more time that armed society is a polite society.
Yours truly,
The Charming, Intelligent, Overwhelmingly Beautiful Miss Katherine
hey i’m purty too!