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Chronicles of the Knights Simplar
Looking for Logic on the Liberal Left...this may take awhile

Camp Casey Update at Ann Coulter's site

Friday, August 26, 2005
I found this to be surreal for some reason. Take a look and tell me what you think-must see.


Update on the World's Smallest Political Quiz


Warning-internet blog rant, filled with shameless overuse of links dead ahead!


Update from The Scribe- the goode sir Tad is off today, he is taking his fierce charger, Peanut, to the vet for his annual checkup. I must admit, that at first, I was a little alarmed by the results of The World's Smallest Political Quiz. I questioned its accuracy when I didn't come out as an extreme right wing, jingoistic, war-mongering, minority-suppressing, third world stomping, reactionary, conservative Republican who likes to break small children's crayons just to see them cry. Like I said in the previous post, haven't I earned it? I have been conditioned to believe that I am those things, so I thought the quiz was rigged. Aha, I thought, it's on a Libertarian website, so everyone will come out as a Libertarian, as in a "see, you think just like we do" approach to marketing their message. So I retook the quiz and answered as far left as I could (Ward "little Eichmanns" Churchill territory, click the link if you are a Fan of Ward Churchill), and I came out as a far lefty, so the quiz is valid.

So what does this mean? I have all of the "symptoms" of being a right wing, neo-con. I'm a member of the NRA (click NRA and join today!) and I have a fondness for medieval weaponry and armor (it's a job hazard that comes with working for the Knights Simplar.) I love to read military history (click the Military Book Club and join today!) I love to read Ann Coulter, Michelle Malkin, Rush Limbaugh, and others of their ilk (click American Compass to join the ilk today!) I am against illegal immigration, and I believe that our borders should be sealed, but I have no problem with legal immigration. I believe that America is the best in the world precisely because of its ability to adopt the best of the world (click Uncle Wong's to order Chinese food today!), and I love our neighbors to the south (click Argentinean supermodels or Argentine Underwater Hockey Association, and join today!) (Update on the Argentine Underwater Hockey Association-you may have noticed that the link is dead-the bastards locked me out, but I still love 'em)

I once had a friend of twenty years, who was a liberal, free Mumia Abu-Jamel and Leonard Peltier type tell me that I had lost my ability to think critically, because he couldn't come up with an appropriate counter-argument regarding the topic at hand; his answer was to attack me personally. (It is well documented that this is the Liberal Left tactic of last resort. When you can't think of anything else to say, attack the person with whom you are arguing. I don't really need to cite examples, just read Dowd, Ivins, or Ted "Condoleezza Rice is a House N*****" Rall et al. "Dowdification" has now become a synonym in our lexicon for twisting the facts. Need I say more? I cite this example as one of my bona fides as a conservative. When a flaming Socialist Liberal calls you an idiot, you know you have made progress (I think I owe Ann Coulter credit for that idea, so Ann, let me say "Thank you and…call me? We'll do lunch")
The point of this long diatribe is that it took me awhile to appreciate the results of the quiz. It isn't that I'm not a good war-mongering, jingoistic, reactionary, small furry animal hating, Ann Coulter-loving (call me, Ann!) neo-conservative Republican. It's the incomplete reductio ad absurdum approach used by the overwhelmingly liberal media- that two opposing views cannot both be correct, therefore only the left leaning views can be correct, and opinion that sways from this must be, by definition, wrong. This either/or reasoning leads inevitably to the notion that there are no degrees of wrongness, you are either wrong (or in the Liberal view Conservative Right) or you're correct, politically, to coin a phrase; you cannot be more or less wrong. You can, however be more or less correct (liberals allow that there is much nuance on their side of the divide.) But when put to an even test, I'm actually closer to being a centrist than many of my counterparts, and they are farther from the middle than they would have you believe. But because we are so inundated with the idea that anything to the right of center is "far right, neo-con think", I didn't believe otherwise, even when I saw it with my own eyes. Now, who controls the media again?

Thank you, I feel better now. Sir Tad will be back soon. Join him as he travels to Iran to visit with Sean Penn.


Worlds Smallest Political Quiz

Thursday, August 25, 2005



This was worth the few seconds it took-The World's Smallest Political Quiz, at the Advocates for Self Government. I came out as a right leaning Libertarian, which isn't too far from the truth. I believe in the axiom "that government which governs least, governs best", but I was surprised (and maybe a little disapointed) that I wasn't marked as a rabid right winger-I think I've earned it, but more on that in the next update.


Update-Crawford Protesters now have Catering

As I was making my way to the next stop on my quest, word came to me by runner that things have changed in Crawford. Fearing that the poor protesters were being routed, I turned Peanut back and made haste, so that I could lend my steel to the battle, and smite the evil and jingoistic "Support our Troops" mob that I had learned about my last time in Crawford.

When I arrived I was relieved to see all was well, and that now they have a catering tent. I also spotted a "Chapel Tent", so I headed in that direction to make my daily supplication; I was also hoping to hear some good Gregorian Chanting, as it had been awhile. On my way there, I was intercepted by a woman with a clipboard, and directed to the "Orientation tent"- well I didn't like the sound of that. After my experiences in North Korea, I knew that "Orientation" can sting like the dickens.

Orientation over, I was handed a sign of protest and told where to go stand, but I had other plans-the catering tent. I was hoping that it was ten-cent chicken wing night for myself, and I wanted to get Peanut a nice mesclun mix salad (he loves that raspberry dressing, you know, when they sprinkle the blue cheese and walnuts on top?)

Alas no wings in sight, but I did manage to get some form of trencher called a "wiener". As we ate our repast, I overheard a lady talking on the phone to someone named Mr. Cruze (could have been a "Mr. Cruise", I suppose). She seemed quite agitated, and was waving her arms so wildly, I did not feel it safe to lift the visor of my helmet. She told this "Mr. Cruze" that they "did not need, nor did they want", something called a "Tent of Scientrology*" or a "Tent of Psychotromitry* set up at the protest"-I'm not sure what they were going on about exactly, since it took great concentration to get the "wiener" through the little slot in my helmet, but I will update you if I find out more.

*Note from the Chronicler-
To whom it my concern-
The use of the fictional words Scientrology and Psychotomitry is a literary device, and any resemblance to a real "Religion" or "Tech" is coincidental, so please don't hurt us, or make us take a "personality test" to find out how "toxic" we are. Thank you, and have a nice, "clear", day.


Another Questing Knight

Wednesday, August 24, 2005


As I was riding through the internet wilderness today I was thrilled to meet another questing knight (and I feared that I was the last of my kind, perhaps there are other Knights Simplar still alive as well).

He has an extensive site, filled with thoughtful material and discussions. I highly recommend that you check out A Knights Blog...for there remain dragons yet to slay.
Dragons Indeed good Sir Knight.

It may not have been a dragon, but I recently encountered a rather huffy aging folksinger-click here for a chronicle of that encounter, and click here for Wikipedia's definition of a shameless plug.


Talk about Conflicting Feelings-Regarding Cameron Diaz

There is no disputing that Cameron Diaz is an incredibly beautiful lady, and even though I am a Knight in a monastic order, I still get, um, urges. But considering she's a vocal liberal Hollywood Democrat, I don't think I could stand talking to her for more than fifteen seconds. Let's give it a try...

Cameron-"Acting allows me to tell a lot of stories, you know start at the beginning, finish at the end, and tell everything in between."

Me-"Um, that's really profound, Cameron." (this isn't so bad)

Cameron-"Grease is the only cure for a hangover."

Me-"You don't say, I'll have to give that a try, the next time I overindulge on verye berye wyne from my wyneskyne." (could be true)

Cameron-"I've banged my head quite a bit..."

Me-"No kidding" (definitely true, so far so good)

Cameron-"...if you think rape should be legal, then don't vote."

Me-"And that's a rap folks, pack it up."

Just to make us feel better, here is Cameron with and without the makeup and lighting.
I know this isn't new, but I get ticked off everytime I think about this statement that she made on the Oprah Winfrey show. Plus it gives me a semi-legitimate reason to post an attractive picture of a scantily clad woman (bonus, and Praise be to God!)

For more gems by Cameron, check out BrainyQuote.



The Greatest Movie Line Ever?

Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Betsy Newmark at Michelle Malkin is Brutally Honest about the greatest movie line ever. Enjoy!

(Editor's note-What's better than a trifecta? Because I just got four links for one item.)

*LEGAL DISCLAIMER-No animals were harmed during the production of this website. Admittedly, one small animal was verbally abused, perhaps taunted may be more accurate, but he seems to have recovered nicely, and is now "doing busy" in my shoe. Have a nice day.


A Few Good Blogs-



Stop the ACLU-Beating the ACLU with their own hammer and sickle-you gotta love that.

The Wide Awakes-they have a disturbing photo of Hillary. You were warned.

Sanity's Bluff-Just a good patriotic website. Nice to see.

A Sailor in the Desert-Another good patriotic blog.


You Can't Stop Running Water

Monday, August 22, 2005
Peanut and I are off to the dusty prairie of Crawford, Texas for our next quest. There seems to be some hullaballoo going on down there about one protest or another, but I'm off to see the splendid and wonderful Joan Baez. With some 50 albums and over 23 songs to her credit, Joan is a one woman power house of acoustic soprano folk music. Praise be to our good Lord in Heaven!

Alas, I arrived too late, having just missed her performance by days (Peanut is not as young as he used to be). But I did manage to catch up to Joan and have a few words.

"Harketh to thee m'goode ladye Joan! I bringeth goode tidingse to thee and thine. My fierce destrier and I have travellede w'out delaye nee ony taryenge fore manye a mile, with grete swete and no respyte so thate we maye give goode wytness to thoust mynstrall showe, but alas we are too late (sic). I praye thee, and offer thee mine skyne of wyne to slayke thine thyrste ('tis verye berrye flavoure), so that we coulde begeth yon to syng a sweete, sweete songe of joye or woe?"

"Why the hell are you talking like that?", she said, moving away from me cautiously. "Er, sorry, I get a little carried away sometimes," I replied, as I dismounted.

"Anyway, the show's over, and I have to get going, besides, my guitar is already packed up" she replied, "but I'm sorry for your troubles."

"Thank you. You could strum my lute...I'd be tickled," I said, holding out the instrument, "Perhaps just one song? How about 'If I had a hammer?" "That was Trini Lopez-I'm Joan Baez" said Joan Baez.

"If I had a hammer, I'd smite some evil-doers right in the kisser, that's for sure," I proclaimed fiercely, punching my mailed fist into my mailed palm.

"Maybe you should go across the road then, there are plenty of evil-doers over there, well maybe not evil, but certainly misguided," she said pointing to a few people standing in a ditch across the way, in what I suspected was an effort to get me away from her. "Whatever do you mean ?" I replied as I assessed the possible field of battle (or ditch of battle as it were) "they look like pretty good people to me."

"THEY are the pro-war group, WE are here to protest the war", she said, her voice tensing. At this, Peanut bucked and whinnied not a little, kicking up dust. "Good lady, please be careful what thou sayeth in front of my charger, Peanut, for he is a warhorse, and not a young one at that," I cautioned, as I patted Peanut's neck, calming him down, "if not for war, then what will he do? He can't exactly get an office job, for he has no curriculum vitae or opposable digits".

"Sorry," she said "but like I told the AP, it was the final tear..."

"Tear...is someone crying ?", I queried "Do they need a Kleenex?" "No, it's a metaphor...an idiom" she sighed. "Well, there's no reason for name calling, but I think I have one here somewhere," I mumbled as I searched through my saddle bags, "let me see, long sword, morning star, flail, Peanut's dress shoes, mace, pepper spray...you can't be too careful these days you know...ah, here it is, one fresh robin's egg coloured Kleenex."

"No," she said in exasperation, pushing the kleenex away, "I was saying it was the final tear for the overflow and you can't stop running water...". "Running Water..." I said in alarm, scanning the horizon, "are there Indian savages on the prowl ? I mean, peaceful Native American casino owners?"

"No, I meant..." she tried.

"My Indian name is 'Runs with Scissors" I interjected proudly, puffing out my chest, "It used to be 'Throws like a Girl', but I got better."

"I'm talking about actual water, running water..."she spurted.

"Did you try jiggling the handle," I offered helpfully, "or a bucket! Peanut, did we bring the bucket? Let's see here, longsword, morning star, flail..."

"No, you idiot" she yelled before catching herself, "war is bad, can you understand that much?" At that she stomped off in a huff into the dusty haze of the Texas dusk towards her chariot, as I stared after her blankly, my gaze clouded by a tear. It seems she might be right after all, I thought, perhaps you can't stop running water. Wherever did I place thine Kleenex?

"Come, my trusty Peanut," I said as I put my foot in the stirrup, "let's go home, for there will be no sweet song for us here today." Obviously, I thought as we road away, Lady Joan has suffered from the heat, not having the benefit of 80 pounds of insulating plate mail-She could not have meant those bad things she said. "If I had a hammer..."

Note from the editor-
Please forgive the good Sir Tad Babbert in his follies, for he often gets caught up in the moment. We offer our deepest condolences to Ms. Sheehan for her loss, but we believe that her son's noble sacrifice saved hundreds and possibly thousands of American lives, by taking the fight to the enemy. Furthermore, Casey Sheehan re-upped in the Army for a second tour, being fully aware of the inherent dangers and risks, and he did so as an adult, of his own free accord. By all evidence, he was a patriot and a warrior, and should be honored as such.

"It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived"-George S. Patton, Jr.

For more opinions check out these links-
Chrenkoff-an excellent piece from down under
Fallen Heroes of Operation Iraqi Freedom-A site honoring Spc. Casey Sheehan
Sheehan doesn't have the corner on moral authority-By Kathleen Parker


The Shepherd and the Magi

Sunday, August 21, 2005

I am recovering from my travels to a Holy Land. Not Jerusalem, but a different kind of Holy Land. It is a veritable paradise on Earth. A worker's paradise to be exact. The streets were so wide that there hardly seemed to be any cars on them, and the people were off somewhere, probably toiling away for the common good and no doubt singing songs of praise for their Dear Leader, because I rarely caught a glimpse of the average Kim.


I was on a pilgrimage with Ted, riding my trusty battle steed Peanut, to Pyongyang, North Korea, in order to observe his talks with North Korea's leaders, or at least one of them, well, he's sort of high up, and he looked well fed at least- Vice Foreign Minister Kim Kye-gwan. It reminded me of another momentous encounter, oh, about two thousand years ago between the newborn Son of God and three wise men. Except this was Ted "If I had any humility, I would be perfect" Turner, and some short, nervous guy in a really bad suit with glasses, but otherwise, it was spot on.

Ted is working to have the DMZ turned into a nature preserve and a "peace park", and as the Boston Globe quoted Mr. Turner as saying "you can't have a peace park without peace". How very true, Ted, how very true. A sound bite like that is what we Knights Simplars are all about-it was clear, concise, and well, simple. Let me give that soundbite-making business a try- "You can't have a worker's paradise without workers. Shoeless, terrified, bark-eating workers." How was that and why are those men coming at me with cattle prods? I digress. Quickly.

The three of us stood together and surveilled the dreaded DMZ, but imagined as one a peace park/nature preserve/water slide bonanza (the last part was my idea, because I know how much the Dear Leader loves water slides.) As I sat atop Peanut in my glistening golden armor, reflecting radiant gossomer sunbeams (Peanut has glistening golden armor as well-see previous posts for importance of shiny things and the PETA website for warhorse safety equipment regulations and recommendations), I spotted a strange and beautiful bird landing next to us, apparantly attracted by the shimmering shininess of my attire. The bird exploded upon touching down, throwing me from Peanut's back and knocking me unconcious. As I slowly regained consciousness, I learned that it was an endangered white naped crane that just happened to land on one of the million or so mines in the DMZ.

As Peanut and I recuperated in one of the excellent worker's paradise hospitals/forced labor mining camps, I began to see Ted's master plan. Oh, he won't admit to it, he's far too modest for that, but I put tul and tul together. What do you get when you put one million land mines together with the endangered white naped crane? Apparantly one less mine, and a nest full of parentless endangered white naped crane eggs. As the sound bite goes-"You can't make an omelet without breaking a few endangered white naped crane eggs". Who's hungry?

*No animals were hurt in the production of this column.

Editor's note-The suffering of the North Korean People is unparalelled. You can make a difference (if not you, then who?)
Photo by Peter Kovacs

Check out the links below to learn more.
US Committee for Human Rights in North Korea-How you can make a difference.

The North Korea Freedom Coalition Website-For more information on North Korea