I've just had 7 hours of committee or faculty meetings in the last 29 hours. I'm too wiped out to blog about much, but here are some quick links:
- Judge tosses Lynndie England's plea: This isn't meant to be any defense of England if she did what she is accused of doing (and what the pictures seem to substantiate), but I noticed that an earlier version of this story had a picture of her with her baby. The plea, had it been accepted, would have capped her sentence at something less than 11 years, but the cap was secret. Still, presumably there was some significant prison time involved. I can't imagine being kept from my little guy for any amount of time like that. . . . What a true punishment, if she's convicted in her court-martial.
- My son the tease: My baby son has a new trick where he extends his finger food like he's going to give it to me, actually touches my palm, and then quickly takes the food back, smiles and chortles, and then eats it. Where do babies learn things like this?
- "American Idol," what's wrong?: Ann Althouse has it right; this is the worst season of "American Idol." It's been too many weeks of boring songs sung boringly to be anything but the fault of the performers. They're not bad, but they just aren't good the way that Kelly, or Fantasia, or even Clay and Reuben were.
- "24": still loving the ending of the last episode.
- Kevin Brown looks done as a major league pitcher. I had drafted him in the 14th round of my fantasy baseball league, but I cautiously kept him on the bench until he showed me something. All he showed me was that he was throwing batting practice in the first inning of his starts. I cut him even before yesterday's debacle and added Erik Bedard of the Orioles. At least Brown didn't cost me anything other than the opportunity cost of whoever I could've picked and the roster spot; I didn't get saddled with any of his outings.
UPDATE: Another random thought:
- Why is it never charismatic mammals thought to be extinct that are rediscovered? Instead, it's three species of snails. . . .