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« The Point Radio: Comfort Food | Main | None of the people, none of the time »

December 18, 2008

And They Thought Wrong...

Thinking they'd caught a fiendish tree logging scheme in progress, one group of campaigners called police in to investigate the crime scene. The crime fighters in Subkowy, Poland found the culprits, but haven't charged them. Find out why at Uncommon Descent

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Comments

Jason Ibrahim

Reminds me of these troublesome beavers: http://www.snopes.com/humor/letters/dammed.asp

Kim Moreland

I was also thinking about the Washington, DC's tidal basins beaver problems--cost taxpayers a pretty penny to catch and transfer the beasts.
http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_qn4158/is_/ai_n14222197

LeeQuod

In my neverending but only periodic quest to prove to Steve that I am not the sappy bleeding-heart animal lover he thinks I am :-) , I'll seize this opportunity to point out (JT style) that in a bygone era, this problem would have had a - uh, more "elegant" solution: http://mooreslore.corante.com/archives/images/Ben%20Franklin%202.jpg

Steve

LeeQuod:
I own one of those.

LeeQuod

Steve, unless you tell me I'll spend all the Christmas season wondering if, when it's not in use, you hang that beaver hat from the antlers of the mounted moose head in your den, or if you put it jauntily on the head of the stuffed polar bear. Either way, all the other work of the taxidermist would no doubt be jealous - if they were still alive.

I'm hoping that Santa has finally forgiven you for the reindeer venison incident; he should have known, really, to park on a different roof and walk over... ;-)

But the merriest of Christmases to you and yours, my brother in Christ, and thank you deeply for some joyous and absolutely indelible memories this past year.

Rolley Haggard

LeeQuod,

Are you back on the “antler” theme again? http://thepoint.breakpoint.org/2008/12/daily-roundup-1.html#comment-141201820

FYI, I’ve been to Steve’s house, and I can tell you that antlered animal mounted over his fireplace is neither a moose nor a yak. I’m not sure exactly what it is. All I know is it used to be a family pet, apparently safe enough for Steve’s kids to feed: http://www.angela-cartwright.com/LISBloopBirthday.jpg

I know I’m probably reading too much into this, but still. Next time you call on Doc, you might want to do what Santa does. Drive a snow-cat and leave Donder and Blitzen – and Fido – at home.

Ho Ho Ho.

* * *

Though it’s been said many times, many ways. . . . . all this to say, “Merry Christmas” to both you guys.

LeeQuod

Rolley wrote: "you might want to do what Santa does. Drive a snow-cat"

Hmmm... reminds me of this, and a joke: http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/enlarge/snow-leopard_image.html

The joke is that a farmer got upset about hunters killing his livestock by mistake, so he took a can of spraypaint and sprayed "COW", "HORSE", "GOAT", etc., on the sides of all his animals. At the end of hunting season all his animals were fine, but someone had shot up his tractor - a John Deere.

So I'm not so certain that driving a snow-CAT is necessarily a successful strategy.

***

And a merry Christmas to you, Rolley, yours, and of course to all the highly tolerant Point staff.

Kim Moreland

Thanks for the laugh ya'll!

Jason Taylor

Rolley, Yak don't have antlers. They have horns. Besides a Yak might be some poor Himalayan peasant's farm animal.
And shooting a Himalayan peasant's yak might be inadvisable as Himalayan peasants have very sharp kukris! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kukri

Kari

Never change, gentlemen. I deliberately watch the comments sidebar looking for the posts where the most of you are active when I'm having a bad day. It cheers me up. I hate to tell it to the Point bloggers but I come back daily just as much for the commentary as I do for the posts...

LeeQuod

Wow, this really has me on the antlers of a dilemma: I could either say nothing and feel guilty, or I could correct JT and say that it was I, not Rolley, who egregiously used "yak" and "antlers" in the same sentence. (I was trying to tie a topic to a famous Far Side cartoon mentioned by the much-missed SBK; "yak's horn" would have been too far afield.) I could offer to let Jason keep me in line at the point of a kukri.

But if I say anything, I'm continuing in the egregious post-hijacking that I started by provoking the Good Doctor in the first place. So I worsen what I would like to palliate.

I suppose I could try to conclude this by noting that both Ceratogaulus (the horned gopher) and Castoroides ohioensis (the giant beaver) are both alleged to have lived in the Pleistocene, but my use of the word "alleged" would lead us back to arguing about you-know-what-ism, just as we'd reached a truce and were singing "Stille Nacht" from the trenches.

Sigh.

Or, I could hope that Rolley has a photo of a beaver with antlers, rather like a jackalope. But in the highbrow intellectual realm of The Point, where the main word is "think", it would only pass muster if it were subtle and cultured, like this: http://illustrationrevealed.files.wordpress.com/2008/04/jackalope.jpg

But other than the Pleistocene, none of this has historical value, leaving my dear friend JT out in the cold - at Christmas! The best I could do for that situation is this: http://blog.modernmechanix.com/mags/qf/c/MechanixIllustrated/8-1950/med_airborne_beavers.jpg (Plus, it has some geek cred.)

Is there no way out? I fear I'm about to get pelted with something by an entire colony of Pointers who exclaim with Rhett, "Frankly, my dear LeeQuod,...".

***

A most blessed Yuletide to you, dear Jason. (And yes, that's an invitation to give us all a historical perspective on the absorption of pagan Nordic festivals into Christian tradition, if you so desire (but maybe in a different thread). There is, after all, no cultural celebration so anti-God that we cannot turn it for our purposes, if we all band together as brothers.)

Gina Dalfonzo

No, that's a good thing, Kari. Anything that keeps people coming is a good thing. Even though half the time the guys get so far over my head I get a crick in my neck trying to follow the conversation. :-)

Rolley Haggard

...and so much for the "subtle and cultured" bit...

Rolley Haggard

- -
( 0 )

“ZZZZZ . . .ZAWP . . . SKNXXX!“



^ -
( o)

“Huh, wha . . . ? Time to get up? Already?!? Why is life so hard? Oh yeah, the Curse. Gripe, grumble, grunt.”

o o
( ~)

“Hmmm. What’s this? A “Point-o-gram”, alerting me to the possibly indiscriminate use of my name. At 8:13 am, Eastern. Curious. Don’t suppose it could be . . . . IT IS! LeeQuod! I can’t believe it! Doesn’t that guy ever sleep? Alright, alright, what is it this time? No doubt some new twist on the “antler” theme. Heh. Nah. That gag is about as worn out as a as a joy-buzzer salesman at a clown's convention, as worn out as a three-legged dog in a cat kennel, as worn out as . . .ANOTHER antler post?!? I’m not believing this. Ok, calm down. What does it say? ‘A beaver with antlers.’ A beaver with antlers. A beaver with antlers? Whoever heard of a beaver with antlers? I’m just not believing this. Oh why oh why is this happening to me? Oh yeah, the Curse. We are really scraping the bottom of the barrel all the way to China this time. Neverthenonetheless . . . (sigh) . . . when duty calls . . . Confucius, here we come.

http://bp3.blogger.com/_eHe867sgHcs/Ra9VS427OjI/AAAAAAAAAAw/JKEKTicQb_g/s1600-h/whatisthis.jpg

* * *

“Now, can I go back to slee . . . back to work?”

Thank you.

- -
( 0 )

“ZZZZZ . . .ZAWP . . . SKNXXX!“

JerryH

When you think it's about done, it just receives new life... If the beavers knew what they were stirring up they would have gone into hibernation. Luckily for us readers some of the commentators can be woken from there mid-winter naps. May you all have a Blessed Christmas.

Jason Taylor

Some pagan nordic festivals can be absorbed into Christianity. We can always put off a Holmgang until three days after Yule.

And we should all be inside because Odin might be out hunting.

LeeQuod

Rolley wrote: "LeeQuod! I can’t believe it! Doesn’t that guy ever sleep?"

I live in the Pacific Northwest, where currently all there is to do is use the Internet.

"It's snowing again," [Mr. Beaver] added, cocking his eye at the window. "That's all the better, because it means we shan't have any visitors; and if anyone should have been trying to follow you, why he won't find any tracks." -- The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

Kim Moreland

Rolley, if only you could draw some figures to go along with your delightful comments. Cheers

LeeQuod

Rolley, when her physician asked "Do you wake up grumpy?" Snow White responded "No, I try to let him sleep."

Because you never know what might happen: http://archives.cbc.ca/science_technology/natural_science/clips/15518/ (some mild profanity, along with the unsolved puzzler of whether or not the Minnesotan labrialumn sounds anything like that when he talks, even though behaviorally he's more like the... Nah, it's Christmastime; goodwill toward men and all that. Love ya, lab, and I'm glad you're a part of the lodge. Seriously.)

Rolley Haggard

LQ,

Which physician? Steve? I don’t go to him for routine exams anymore (reasons for which you can read about once Gina and Travis get the comments fixed on Regis’s recent Evolution post). Talk about your Ninja scalpel.

Not that he (Steve) would take me back even if I did go. I could tell by the look on his face that I gave the wrong response when he asked me if it hurt when I fell off my bike. All I said was, “yessir, but it hurt a lot worse when I hit the pavement.”

Speaking of grumps and beavers, things could have been a lot worse for Penn Powell had he encountered one of our erstwhile mythical variety of the beast, such as this impressively-racked specimen that I was fortunate enough to get on film. http://usera.imagecave.com/wwwuuwuu/antleaver.jpg

Is it just me, or are these creatures suddenly beginning to proliferate around here?

And to think I was just about to pat the little guy (the beaver, not Steve or Penn) on the head . . . That was one close call. Glad I had second thoughts and chose instead to toss him a goody from my half-empty box of Turkish Delights.

But I still have to wonder -- was I hallucinating, or did I, in fact, hear him say, ‘ere I drove out of sight, “Gee Wally, that was swell!”

C.S. Lewis, no doubt, would incline to the opinion that talking beavers, antlered or otherwise, are not, in the cosmic scheme of things, as farfetched as one might think. And who am I to disagree?

But it piques me not a tad that he couldn’t pwonounce my name wight.

Jason Taylor

"Some pagan nordic festivals can be absorbed into Christianity. We can always put off a Holmgang until three days after Yule.

And we should all be inside because Odin might be out hunting."

Of course the second isn't a Christian custom. But we can at least put off a holmgang until three days after Yule.
And I am sure we can all agree not to draw a sword in a drunken rage while attending the king's feast.

LeeQuod

Rolley, I doubt you've ever seen him in that capacity, since given Steve's credentials (think Dr. Charles Eppes of "Numb3rs", but with a stethoscope) it is much more likely his only "patients" are white laboratory mice, the Doogie Howser mythos notwithstanding. http://www.pioneertelephonecoop.com/~mchumor/00images/7369_religion_cartoon.gif

...but on the other hand, I've never actually seen you,Rolley... so perhaps your ASCII art representation is intentionally misleading, *Algernon*?!!???! Isn't it true, sir, that you actually look much more like this?!!

^..^
=v=

Ha HAH!! THIS explains your ability to capture a full-on portrait of the elusive and notoriously camera-shy antered beaver, DOESN'T IT - you're *fellow rodents*!!!

It all falls into place - the chirpy tone of voice, the Reepicheep bravery against fell opponents like Doc (perhaps derived from Great-Great-Uncle H. Rider), the droppi- ahem, er, well, anyway, it all fits! It's making so much sense...

...unless, of course, Jason has cleverly slipped me some Glögg to gain a tactical advantage in the upcoming holmgang while I'm still trying to recover my wits. 16th-century jackalopes...antlered beavers with parachutes...(hic)...white mice typing ASCII art...not a creature was stirring...damsels in distress from having to read this... oooh, my head!...Varþær suþærman dræpin ællær ænskær maþær, ta skal bøta firi marchum fiurum þem sakinæ søkir, ok tvar marchar konongi....(thud) ZZZZZ...ZAWP...SSKNXXX!

Jason Taylor


You need not worry LeeQuod. That would be dishonorable and unworthy of a true warrior. Besides any true Norseman would have more then enough glogg anyway for Yule.

Rolley Haggard

And I was SO SURE the disguise would work….
http://usera.imagecave.com/wwwuuwuu/disguise.jpg

Sigh. I’ve had a wonderful time, but this wasn’t it.

The trouble with the rat race is that even if you win, you're still a rat.

Gripe, grumble, grunt, grouch.

P.S. LeeQuod, whatever else you now may choose to do, please don’t tell Steve, or I’ll be pithed, and yule be sorry because it will unleash an unending stream of pithy remarks from you-now-know-who. And you don’t want that to happen. Believe me, you DON’T want that to happen.

LeeQuod

Jason, you are indeed a faithful and true culture warrior, one of the truly elite.

But I was surprised to find the Old Norse quote that said killing an Englishman was less than a big deal. Nevertheless it was interesting that such a topic was addressed at all, and even moreso addressed in writing. They've clearly been slandered in the popular culture as unprincipled killers.

And it's my delight to engage in cultural warfare shoulder-to-shoulder with you - on the eco-politics of beavers, or any other topic. Merry Christmas!!

Jason Taylor

How's this for Nordic?
-----------------------------------
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

At Drontheim, Olaf the King
Heard the bells of Yule-tide ring,
As he sat in his banquet-hall,
Drinking the nut-brown ale,
With his bearded Berserks hale
And tall.

Three days his Yule-tide feasts
He held with Bishops and Priests,
And his horn filled up to the brim;
But the ale was never too strong,
Nor the Saga-man's tale too long,
For him.

O'er his drinking-horn, the sign
He made of the cross divine,
As he drank, and muttered his prayers;
But the Berserks evermore
Made the sign of the Hammer of Thor
Over theirs.

The gleams of the fire-light dance
Upon helmet and hauberk and lance,
And laugh in the eyes of the King;
And he cries to Halfred the Scald,
Gray-bearded, wrinkled, and bald,
"Sing!"

"Sing me a song divine,
With a sword in every line,
And this shall be thy reward."
And he loosened the belt at his waist,
And in front of the singer placed
His sword.

"Quern-biter of Hakon the Good,
Wherewith at a stroke he hewed
The millstone through and through,
And Foot-breadth of Thoralf the Strong,
Were neither so broad nor so long,
Nor so true."

Then the Scald took his harp and sang,
And loud through the music rang
The sound of that shining word;
And the harp-strings a clangor made,
As if they were struck with the blade
Of a sword.

And the Berserks round about
Broke forth into a shout
That made the rafters ring:
They smote with their fists on the board,
And shouted, "Long live the Sword,
And the King!"

But the King said, "O my son,
I miss the bright word in one
Of thy measures and thy rhymes."
And Halfred the Scald replied,
"In another 't was multiplied
Three times."

Then King Olaf raised the hilt
Of iron, cross-shaped and gilt,
And said, "Do not refuse;
Count well the gain and the loss,
Thor's hammer or Christ's cross:
Choose!"

And Halfred the Scald said, "This
In the name of the Lord I kiss,
Who on it was crucified!"
And a shout went round the board,
"In the name of Christ the Lord,
Who died!"

Then over the waste of snows
The noonday sun uprose,
Through the driving mists revealed,
Like the lifting of the Host,
By incense-clouds almost
Concealed.

On the shining wall a vast
And shadowy cross was cast
From the hilt of the lifted sword,
And in foaming cups of ale
The Berserks drank "Was-hael!
To the Lord!"

LeeQuod

Rolley wrote: "Sigh. I’ve had a wonderful time, but this wasn’t it."

Dear Rolley, our sincere apologies. One of our grad students replaced one of the modules when classes ended for the winter, and it seemed to interfere with the politeness algorithm. We are making appropriate temporary adjustments, and will have a permanent fix in place as soon as the neurolinguistic programmers return.

--The LeeQuod Team

(My point being, of course, that none of us really know if a comment comes from one person, multiple people (as I've long suspected of Jason - how on Earth could just one...), a different species, or just software. But I remember almost every one of your postings, Rolley, as if I just read them, and it's clear to me that you have an artistic and sensitive soul along with your great wit. So if there's even the slightest actual felt sentiment in your comment above, please accept my most humble and profound apology. As I've said before, I truly treasure knowing you, and like Keri I look for your name in eager anticipation of some broad humor, deep and moving sentiment, or profound poetry. I sincerely hope my silly jesting hasn't left a permanent wound.

That said, I reserve the right to let out a guffaw on the West Coast that will be audible on the East Coast if it turns out that Dr. Steve is an OB/Gyn.)

Rolley Haggard

LeeQuod,

“Before I speak, I have something important to say.”

“From the moment I picked your book up until I laid it down, I convulsed with laughter. Someday I intend on reading it.”

These pithy quips (and no, Steve hasn’t caught up with me – yet), along with the one-liners from my remarks on the 24th, are all intended-to-be-humorous citations from Groucho Marx, allusions to whom were scattered throughout my post. There was no note of personal hurt or sadness.

You and/or any fellow-posters needn’t fear that any offense was given or taken by anything that has been said here or anywhere else in this pilgrimage of word and spirit. Every exchange has been an occasion of purest joy to which I look forward as much as to my next meal. (Well, that may be a wee stretch, but, to coin an adjective, only the wee-est).

Yet even if something said had drawn blood, “faithful are the wounds of a friend,” and in that confidence I gladly place my far-too-pristine sword in your hands, fearing nothing but the too-quick passage of time and the loss of opportunity to wage war, shoulder to shoulder, against our Ancient Foe on whatever field of battle he may appear. Any wounds I may acquire in the quest will prove in the end to have been self-inflicted by clumsy and pretentious attempts to declare fealty to a King whose surname is Almighty. In that sense you were closer to the mark than perhaps you guessed — I am the Mouse that Roared.

Your wit and wisdom are exceeded only by a measure of grace I have found all too rare in my brief sojourn (but common, indeed characteristic, of so many here at The Point). I know something of what Christ felt when praise slipped the leash and Truth Incarnate declared there is such a thing as an Israelite indeed in whom is no guile.

Mere words are pathetic messengers of the heart’s ineffable sentiments. But it seems that until we know each other even as we have been fully known by our Creator, words are the best poor servants in our hire, and we resolve to show diligence to the end to insure they are made to earn their wage.

In that spirit, let the exchange continue, true friend and fellow-soldier! And thank you for a sensitivity that makes even an erstwhile Calvinist second-guess his rejection of the concept of irresistible grace.

* * *

An Exchange of Sentiments

You said . . . .

“Remain with me a moment, then move on
For more than I can offer must you live
And moments are but pieces and the sum
Of that which I am given and can give.
Our time we measure meager so regret
Might fill us in the moment that we swallow
And cultivate a craving as we whet
Our appetites for time with no small sorrow.
When spending from a store to see it dwindle
And sipping wine we know must soon be gone
We smother fires that, smothering, we kindle;
A precious memory will smother none.
So linger with me but a moment here,
That when you’ve passed our time will have been dear.”

But I replied, tearfully . . . .

“And yet—if this I now hold dear endures
To die, to bring the unfamiliar ghost
That friendly speaks the name that should be yours
The moment found’s the happy moment lost.
And then what solace in the cup, once sweet,
Now empty, appetite returning gives?
A precious memory is but the sheet
On which the ghost of perfect music lives.
The time we measure meager, measure true
For time may not by time be measured best:
The preciousness of moments spent with you
Is of the moments’ length the truer test.
I cannot linger but a moment here
Unless the moment be forevermore.”

* * *

See you in the funny papers, Nathanael. We’ve got a long time to get really acquainted.

“Whosoever liveth and believeth in Me shall never die.” --John 11:26

Jason Taylor

No, LeeQuod there is just one Jason Taylor, as far as I know. Or at least there is just one me, though presumably there are others with the name "Jason Taylor" somewhere in the world.

LeeQuod

You are certainly The One And Only, Jason. (I'm told there's a guy who's good at football and a pretty good dancer, two ephemeral talents which pale in significance compared to your knowledge of history. Who were the most famous athletes and dancers at the time of Alexander the Great? You yourself may know, but none of the rest of us do - even though we all recall the Macedonian's exploits because they lasted. So what you know is superior to what any athlete/dancer can do. QED). But you still have the understanding of a small army of history grad students. Thanks for your amazing and personally enriching contributions, and I'll print a copy of the Longfellow poem for my wall, in a place of honor next to Rolley's works. Skol.

Jason Taylor


Actually I take part of that last part back. I have long found traders romantic and stories like Sindbad indicate that I am hardly the only one.

Jason Taylor

Actually I don't know who the most famous atheletes and dancers at Alexander's time were. Though I vaguely remember reading that Alexander himself went to Olympia as a young man. I could be wrong though.
In any case we don't remember Alexander's exploits because they lasted. Which in fact they didn't. Alexander was just a barbarian that happened to inherit a very advanced millitary machine, because of his dads machinations. He acted like a berserker and had the simple motives of one.
We remember Alexander not because he was a great king in the sense of being a benefit to mankind. Instead we remember him for roughly the same reasons as we remember the Terminator, to whom he bore some resemblance.
Even the process of global Hellenization which he was credited with was just an extention of a process that started long ago by the Athenian Empire through the less romantic but less pernicious means of merchants and other travelers.

LeeQuod

I worried that you might mistake me, JT old friend. My point was that Alexander's activities lasted *beyond his lifetime*, while athletics and performances last hardly a year. (Quick - without looking it up, who won Superbowl IX? Only the most rabid sports fanatic remembers. But most of us had heard of Alexander "the Great" (quotation marks to reflect your assessment, JT) prior to seeing the Colin Farrell movie. (And it's interesting, as you kinda suggest, to think of Ahnuld in his prime portraying a historical figure instead of a futuristic robot.)

And please don't skip over the part about athletes and dancers in 325 B.C. so lightly. It is a mark of my great respect for your knowledge that I would not be surprised if you did know. We who are about to learn history salute you.

(Kim and Gina et. al., thanks for your tremendous forbearance. I realize that this thread now has little to do with beavers - unless I say something like I'm sure Alexander the Great could have put the angry one on that Canadian bridge to good use. Imagine sending in a phalanx of attack beavers, with the antlered beavalopes at the front... OK, who's been spiking my drink again?!??)

Jason Taylor

And someone got the last two posts backwards. Is there a conspiracy against me?

Jason Taylor

Actually a better example of an ancient general to admire is Scipio Africanus. He wasn't just a very skillful general-and against better opponents then Alexander had. More important, Scipio was not like Alexander, a selfish egomaniac. Instead he was a man faithfully doing his duty to his City. And one who was willing to retire peacefully once Rome decided it needed him no longer.

Kari

Jason Tayler, what I remember about Scipio Africanus is the vague idea that he was once presented to me as one of the earliest heroes of a space travel stories... I seem to think I got this idea from C.S. Lewis but can't remember where or how.

Rolley Haggard

Jason wrote, "And someone got the last two posts backwards. Is there a conspiracy against me?"

I had the same experience with my December 23rd posts. So the conspiracy is against both of us, probably because of our common heritage - i.e., sons of Adam.

Gina, could this signfiy more anomalies with the new and improved Typepad?

LeeQuod

.nosaJ dna yelloR ,uoy yb desirprus m'I
.sdrawkcab yrtnuoc siht ekat dluow amabO taht shtnom rof su gnillet neeb evah snacilbupeR

.ngis tsrif eht ylerem si sihT

Jason Taylor

Well, back when Sci-fi was invented in the 1800's most educated people in the Western world knew lots of Greek and Roman trivia. That was probably a sophisticated in-joke for the reader.

Rolley Haggard

Actually, LeeQuod, Jason and I anticipated that maneuver from the Left, and have put together these lines that work both backwards and forwards (if you do them line by line).

So plug this poem into that backwards-rendering word processor of yours (but, for best effect, take the punctuation out before you load it).

I DID SAY (AS DID I),
“EYES AGLOW, OLGA’S EYE.”
DID I DO? O ROOD, I DID!
IS IT I? IT IS I!

Keepin’ one step ahead of B’racula – Yellor and No Saj.

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