Damn.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader must thank Tommy for these little bits of brainless content.

First bit:

Second bit:

The Recipe For A Maximum Leader

3 parts Power 2 parts Slyness 1 part Villainy Splash of Intellect Limit yourself to one serving. This cocktail is strong!

Speaking of brainless….

Or should we say… speaking of brains… From our friend Buckethead over at the Ministry of Minor Perfidy…

You can clicky the image to embiggen.

Don’t gnaw on too many bones out there…

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader is relaxing today and trying to get in the mood to celebrate the anniversary of the birth of Elvis A. Presley. As is his custom, dinner tonight will be meatloaf, whipped potatoes, boiled (perhaps steamed) carrots, and milk. The family might have share a peanut butter and ‘nanner sandwich as an appetizer. Dinner will be followed by a chocolate cake with white frosting decorated with the words “Happy Birthday to the King.”

And the iPod will be blasting Elvis music the whole time.

Great fun… Great fun…

Carry on.

Huckabee victory
Evangelical power
Beware New Hampshire

Moneybags Romney
Outspends seventeen to one
Not good investment

AWOL John McCain
Chosen by thirteen percent
Will he rock Concord?

Somnolent Thompson
Fails to excite Iowans
Law and Order bore

Ron Paul – ten percent!
Libertarian triumph
Stoners celebrate

Hillary derailed
Who’s inevitable now?
Obama, momma!

Demagogue Edwards
Own success puts the lie to
Two Americas

Richardson, Biden
Dodd are dead on arrival
The Veepstakes begin

Via Volokh:

The last post of a milblogger.

The last two paragraphs choked me up.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader reports, with a very heavy heart, that George MacDonald Fraser has slipped this mortal coil. Fraser died after a battle with cancer at his home on the Isle of Man on January 2. As many readers will no doubt know, Fraser is the author of the dozen or so novels about the life of Sir Harry Flashman. Those works are among your Maximum Leader’s favorite works of fiction.

The Washington Post has a fine obitiuary for Fraser. Here are the first few paragraphs of that piece:

George MacDonald Fraser, whose tales about an unscrupulous Victorian scoundrel, Sir Harry Flashman, chronicled the misadventures of one of the most memorable characters of modern British fiction, died Jan. 2 of cancer at his home on the Isle of Man in the Irish Sea. He was 82.

After working for years as a journalist, Mr. Fraser published his first novel about Flashman in 1969, passing it off as the newly discovered memoirs of a 19th-century coward, Lothario and soldier of misfortune. Flashman appeared in a dozen novels over the years, inadvertently landing at the center of almost every major military campaign of the Victorian age, from the Boxer Rebellion in China to the Indian Mutiny, the Charge of the Light Brigade, the siege of Khartoum, the Mexican Revolution and the Battle of Little Big Horn.

In Mr. Fraser’s words, Flashman “can only display the courage of a cornered rat” as he tries to escape his many predicaments. Flashman demonstrates little more than craven self-interest, yet he invariably emerges as the antihero of his comic escapades, undeservedly winning top medals for bravery and bedding countless women along the way.

When the first novel in the series appeared, “Flashman: From the Flashman Papers, 1839-1842,” Mr. Fraser claimed to have edited manuscripts he had found at a household sale.

Several critics were initially taken in by the ruse and believed that the stories were drawn from a lost cache of authentic memoirs. But the character of Harry Paget Flashman originally appeared as a bully in “Tom Brown’s Schooldays,” a popular Victorian boys’ book that Mr. Fraser read as a child. The story flagged whenever Flashman left the stage, Mr. Fraser noted, so he made the irrepressible rogue the central figure of his novels.

“Anything is thinkable if it preserves [Flashman] with a whole skin,” critic Christopher Hitchens wrote in The Washington Post in 1986. “The very qualities which got him expelled from Tom Brown’s Rugby School — deceit, cruelty and funk — fit him admirably as a man to take credit for the sacrifices of others.”

The Times of London has, as they almost always do, a better obituary. From the Times:

[Fraser] had hit on a deceptively simple idea that proved to be a bestselling formula at the end of the Swinging Sixties. The public still wanted to sit down with a good rip-roaring yarn — but did not want heroes. So why not make the central character a cad? A cad the reading public already knew about — Harry Flashman, the bounder of Tom Brown’s Schooldays?

What happened to Flashman after the good Doctor Arnold expelled him from Rugby? Fraser decided that he must have gone into the Army. Bully, liar and coward he may still have been, but the Victorian military authorities did not mind. Or perhaps they were simply too stupid to notice, as he whored and cheated his way around the British Empire. The resulting stories became one of the great tongue-in-cheek achievements of popular fiction.

The standing joke between Fraser and his readers was that these were genuine memoirs: they had been discovered, “wrapped in oilskin” and stuffed into a tea chest, during a house sale at Ashby, Leicestershire, in 1965. They described how, after a long, eventful life, loved by the ladies and lauded by the Establishment — Flashman was a brigadier-general, a VC, a Knight of the Bath, a Chevalier of the Legion d’Honneur and, amusingly, holder of the San Serafino Order of Purity and Truth — the old scoundrel mused in old age about how he had got away with it: “The ideal time to be a hero,” he wrote, “is when the battle is over and the other fellows are dead, God rest ’em, and you take the credit.”

It was all rollicking nonsense; but it had a sterling quality that went to the heart of many sophisticated readers who like to relax with a rubbishy book provided it is well written rubbish. Fraser was a thoroughly professional literary craftsman.

The books could be enjoyed at different levels. They sold in airport bookshops and they found their way into the hands of solemn Americans who could not understand why they were unable to find General Flashman in the reference books. Letters came from people who claimed to be related to Flashman as a result of one of his irregular liaisons. One serving British officer claimed that his grandfather lent Flashman $50 and a horse during the American Civil War — and never saw either again.

Your Maximum Leader has not yet read two Flashman books that he owns (thanks to Christmas) - Flashman on the March (the most recent) and Flashman and the Angel of the Lord. He will now move both of these books up in his queue.

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maixmum Leader is feeling funky today. Mrs Villain is feeling more funky today. Why? Hokie losing to the Jayhawks last night.

That sucked. It was a competitive game (overall). But really the Hokies beat themselves. Kansas scored most of their point off three turnovers. It was very disappointing.

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader is tired right now. He isn’t sure if it is his busy schedule, or the huge glasses of “fixed up” egg nog he’s been drinking…

Anyhoo…

Your Maximum Leader is preparing to sit down and watch the Hokies of Virginia Tech take on the Jayhawks of Kansas. He is rooting (along with his lovely wife - Mrs Villain - herself a Hokie) for the Hokies to really stick it to the Jayhawks. During the commericals he will likely switch over to Fox News and see what is going on in Iowa.

Then again, he might (during commercials) switch over to watch some other program. Afterall… He will be hearing about what went on in Iowa all day tomorrow. He’s afraid he might get burned out if he doesn’t pace himself.

Your Maximum Leader has been reading that Hillary might place third in Iowa (behind Obama and Edwards). Your Maximum Leader isn’t sure how that can be. He supposes that it must be some weird situation that exists only in Iowa. Some situation that deals with how people get to caucuses and how they actually decide to agree on a candidate at the caucus. Regardless, your Maximum Leader still will stick with his earlier predictions - Obama, Clinton, Edwards, and Richardson (on the Democratic side).

Your Maximum Leader still hasn’t decided whom to cast his lot with. Sadly, no one is too thrilling in his opinion. Of course, by the time Virginia gets around to voting, the race should be sewn up by one candidate on either side. That is the point at which Michael Bloomberg of New York will declare himself as an independent candidate for president. Then it will get a little more interesting. But only a little…

Anyhoo…

Your Maximum Leader will be spending most of his evening watching the Hokies…

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader isn’t sure what to think of this week. Today certainly felt like a Monday, although it was definately a Wednesday. The abbreviated week is nice, but it does seem to upset (on some level) the regular flow of time…

So… Iowa caucuses tomorrow… Predictions? Anyone? Here you go… On the Democratic side: Obama wins narrowly over Hillary Clinton. Edwards a distant third. Richardson fourth. Other Dems decide to call it quits after results. Four way race going into New Hampshire. On the Republican side: Romney narrowly edges out Huckabee. McCain polls third. Thompson fourth. Rudy fifth. The five (and Ron Paul) remain in contention in New Hampshire. Republican field will not clear out until February.

Your know… Your Maximum Leader has a “thing.” Actually, he has many “things” but this one relates to Egg Nog. He doesn’t think that one should drink Egg Nog after the Feast of the Epiphany. He doesn’t know why this is, but it is. He has a fresh half gallon of Egg Nog he bought right after Christmas. Alas, his Egg Nog consumption was low over the New Years holiday. He now is going to have to go through lots of Egg Nog in a few days.

Your Maximum Leader’s lovely wife, Mrs Villain, buys skim or fat-free milk when she does the grocery shopping. Your Maximum Leader mostly buys 1% (or sometimes whole - or what passes for whole in stores now - when he buys whole milk he pretends he just grabbed the gallon from “the wrong shelf” when asked why he bought whole milk). Now he will urge Mrs Villain to buy 1% milk at the store… For the sake of your Maximum Leader’s prostate.

Your Maximum Leader believes that all-you-can-eat buffets are - essentially - wagers. Bets if you will. The restaurant is betting that they can prepare more food than you can eat (and make a profit) for the price they charge. In most cases, given the quality of buffet food, it is a bet the restaurants win. Then again there are people like Ricky Labit. Ricky apparently doesn’t like losing bets with all-you-can-eat buffets.

And finally… In a sign that “science” has in fact reached to new lows… Apparently a bunch of intrepid researchers have determined that male macaques “pay” for sex with female macaques. Yes… female macaques are, apparently, all whores who wontonly exchange intercourse for… wait for it… grooming. According to the piece:

Michael Gumert of Nanyang Technological University in Singapore made the discovery in a 20-month investigation into 50 long-tailed macaques in Kalimantan Tengah, Indonesia, New Scientist reports on Saturday.

On average, females had sex 1.5 times per hour.

But this rate jumped to 3.5 times per hour immediately after the female had been groomed by a male — and her partner of choice was likely to be the hunky monkey that did the grooming.

Market forces also acted on the value of the transaction.

If there were several females in the area, the cost of buying sex would drop dramatically — a male could “buy” a female for just eight minutes of nit-picking.

But if there were no females around, he would have to groom for up to 16 minutes before sex was offered.

The work supports the theory that biological market forces can explain social behaviour, the British weekly says.

Your Maximum Leader isn’t sure that the males are “paying” for sex in the sense of prostitution - as seems to be implied in the article. The males are more “exchanging” sex for the primate equivilent of spa treatments. (Try paying Trixie down on the corner in spa treatments and see how far that gets you…)

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader’s youth was one where he learned to love hockey. Indeed, hockey was the first sport he really followed. When he was a boy the Capitals were new in Washington. And they sucked. The Caps sucked so bad that your Maximum Leader’s mother was always able to get her company’s tickets to just about any game she wanted. We went to many hockey games. If your Maximum Leader’s memory serves, he went to games for about two seasons before he saw the Caps win a game (lots of losses and ties). At one point, your Maxmium Leader even purchased a partial season ticket game plan for the Caps.

He moved away from the area, but still watched what games he could on TV. Then he moved back to the (much greater) DC area and started to see a game from time to time in person (and watched on TV when he could). Then came the strike/lockout. He’s not seen a game live since before the lockout/strike. He’s watched a few on TV.

And that brings us to what he has been doing this afternoon.

Your Maximum Leader has been watching the NHL Winter Classic game. The game is a contest between the Pittsburgh Penguins and the Buffalo Sabres. Frankly, your Maxmium Leader doesn’t much care for either of those teams. But your Maximum Leader really (really!) dislikes the Penguins. (The teams he dislikes the most go back to those early days for him. He cannot stand the New York Islanders, the Philadelphia Flyers, the Pittsburgh Penguins, the New Jersey Devils, and the New York Rangers. He can’t abide one of those teams. In fact, he always (ALWAYS) roots against them. When they play each other he hopes for ties.)

For those of you not in the know about this game, it was played outdoors. Yes outdoors in Ralph Wilson Stadium in Buffalo. (That is where the Bills play.) It was played during a lake effect snowstorm.

It was awesome! Totally kick-arse awesome. (Even if the Penguins won in a shootout.) Your Maximum Leader isn’t for abandoning the comfy stadia that hockey calls home. But he wouldn’t mind seeing a game or two in the elements every year.

Now your Maximum Leader is watching the Washington Capitals versus Ottawa Senators on the TV. It is a shootout. The score is 4-2 favoring Washington at the end of the first period. We’ll hope the Caps can hang on to win.

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader wishes all of you, his loyal readers, a very Happy New Year. He hopes that you are all well and not too hung over. Your Maximum Leader, as is his habit, didn’t do too much to celebrate New Years. Indeed, for many years the extent of his celebration consisted of hanging around with his best buddy Kevin. We would watch movies, and then switch over to Dick Clark at about 11:55. We’d watch the ball drop in Times Square, then we would go back to watching movies until we drifted into the clutches of Morpheus. Now that Kevin is in Korea, our old plan is not practical. So, your Maximum Leader stays at home with is family and watches movies and then switches to Dick Clark at about 11:55 and watches the ball drop.

Pretty exciting huh?

Excursus: Your Maximum Leader isn’t sure how he should feel watching Dick Clark. On the one hand, Clark has made great progress since his stroke a few years ago. But on the other hand, your Maximum Leader feels badly watching him. He is overwhelmed by a feeling of being voyeuristic when watching Clark.

You know who your Maximum Leader misses on New Years Eve? Guy Lombardo and his Royal Canadians. He went out and bought a copy of Auld Lang Syne on iTunes to satisfy this nostalgic feeling.

Anyhoo, your Maximum Leader generally does indulge himself with a bottle of Pol Roger on New Years. But this year he opted to go with an Italian sparkling wine from Veneto. It was very good (he should say it is very good, as he hasn’t quite finished the bottle yet). The Processo he bought is dry with undercurrents of fruit (apples or pears). This sparkling wine has the benefit of only being about $17 a bottle - as opposed to the $50 a bottle your Maximum Leader is used to spending on the Pol Roger. Your Maximum Leader isn’t sure that he is enjoying the Italian wine as much as he has enjoyed the champagne in the past; but it is still pretty tasty.

Speaking of tasty…

The Almond encrusted pork loin was quite delicious. Your Maximum Leader took is massive pork tenderloin (featured in the post below) and cut it into thirds. He went ahead and prepared two of the three pieces for Christmas. He and his family wound up eating one third on Christmas day. The other prepared third was itself divided into thirds and divied up between your Maximum Leader’s in-laws, parents, and hungry self.

The third portion of tenderloin is thawed out and waiting to be prepared tonight. Your Maximum Leader hasn’t heard from anyone on a good preparation (NB to Mrs P: You teased me with a promise of recipe…). So he thinks he will do a typical rosemary and garlic marinade for a few hours then roast.

In unrelated news, Your Maximum Leader should tell you all that he’s been thinking recently that there is some big question in his life to which he knows the answer. The answer is (apparently) Venice. Yes, the city in Italy. He isn’t sure what the question is, but feels that Venice is the answer.

Anyhoo…

On to New Years resolutions. Your Maximum Leader will share a few of his with you all.

In 2008 your Maximum Leader will bring peace to the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem.

In 2008 your Maximum Leader will compete as his own nation in the summer Olympics in Beijing. He will not finish lower than fourth in every event. He will accomplish this feat by using his heretofore unknown ability to warp the time-space continuum.

In 2008 your Maximum Leader will win every Nobel Prize available when he completes his “Grand Unified Theory.” This theory, which will be ultimately be confirmed by scientists from the Gamma-Zeta 294 system 8,433 years from now, will unify all practical questions of physics, chemistry, biology, mathematics, and literature. The key to the unification of science will be the proto-electroneuquark partical - also known affectionately as “The Maxy”.

In 2008 your Maximum Leader will end global warming by meditating for 72 hours straight under a blossoming tree surrounded by dancing wood-nymphs.

In 2008 your Maximum Leader will be elected President of the United States without receiving a single popular vote. He will win a unanimous vote of the Electoral College. After his inauguration in 2009, Canada, Great Britain, Mexico, Brazil and Lichenstein will voluntarially surrender their national sovreignty to your Maximum Leader and the Mike World Order shall begin.

In 2008 your Maximum Leader will wish the previously dreamy Jennifer Love Hewitt a happy married life; he will move on to the passionate Lola Astanova as the object of his platonic affections.

In 2008 your Maximum Leader will try to improve the quality (if not quantity) of blog posts here at Naked Villainy.

There you have them. Your Maximum Leader is pretty sure he can keep up with at least two of them…

Carry on.