Schadenfreude embarrasses me a little. I never want to wish death on anyone. But sometimes, someone dies who spent his life in opposition to everything one holds dear, and one cannot help to feel just the tiniest bit pleased at his passing. Of course I mean Jerry Falwell, one of the most reprehensible characters in American politics this century. In conversations with friends since yesterday, a couple of things came out: First, it's too bad there's no "him" left to contemplate the fact that he's not actually where he thought he'd be; and second, it's always sad when a clown—even a delusional, evil, paranoid clown—dies.

I wonder which fundie will step into the vacuum Falwell's passing leaves?

There has to be a caption here. Thoughts?

Parker continues his fascination with rocks:

Oh. My. God. Via Talking Points Memo:

Staff members of an elementary school [in Murfeesboro, Tenn.,] staged a fictitious gun attack on students during a class trip, telling them it was not a drill as the children cried and hid under tables.

...

During the last night of the trip, staff members convinced the 69 students that there was a gunman on the loose. They were told to lie on the floor or hide underneath tables and stay quiet. A teacher, disguised in a hooded sweat shirt, even pulled on a locked door.

More here.

I don't know whether this is sad or funny:

The new frontrunner for "worst idea in modern journalism" has to go James Macpherson, editor and publisher of the two-year-old site pasadenanow.com, who recently ran this job posting: "We seek a newspaper journalist based in India to report on the city government and political scene of Pasadena, California, USA."

Back in March, I said that Parker seemed to have reached his adult weight (22 kg). Apparently not. He did lose almost two kilos in April during the "bad butt" incident, but since then he's filled out a little, to 24 kg.

Having a ball in the yard:

Just for giggles I took a few photos of Parker as he complained about me going to work this morning. It's easy, by the way, to get him to stop complaining: a frozen, peanut-butter filled Kong works fine. Photo #1 shows him as he realized that I was getting ready to leave: