Text of my phone call to the Maximum Leader last night:

ML: “Hello?”

SH: “Hey. Just calling to let you know that the new Ryan Seacrest show on E! is about to do an interview with Jaime Pressly and Jennifer Love Hewitt.”

ML: “Jennifer Love Hewitt! Oh my god! (titters like a little girl)”

SH: “Oh wait, he is only interviewing Emmy nominees on this show, so Jennifer Love Hewiit won’t be on. Only Jaime Pressly. Talk to you later.” (Click)

UPDATE FROM YOUR MAXIMUM LEADER: Hummm… The Smallholder must be back at work again. To think… A man who would “crank call” his friends like this is out there teaching the youth of America. Weep for the future.

The Volokh Conspiracy provides a series of links to the Kreshnar promotion contretemps here.

In short, Kreshnar is a conservative philosopher who has been publicly critical about some of SUNY Fredonia’s policies, including affirmative action. Kreshnar was recommended by his peers for promotion to full professor, but the college president, overturning the factulty recommendation, denied Kreshnar’s promotion. In his denial, the president acknowledged that Kreshnar’s teaching was excellent, that his publication record merited promotion, but then said that he was denying that promotion because Kreshnar had “misrepresented” the university’s positions and harmed the university’s reputation.

You can read all the primary source documents here. (Never, ever, mess with a PhD and leave a paper trail)

The good news is that the release of the related memos and the public attention they have garnered has forced the president to reverse his position and Kreshnar has received his promotion.

I just want to comment on a tiny little part of the while topic. During the conflict, Kreshnar offered to submit his newspaper columns to be reviewed for purposeful factual inaccuracies. The president wanted a a vaguer, open-ended review process. Interestingly, Kreshnar wanted a process that was open and the president wanted a process that was secret.

A commenter at Inside Higher Education said:

“President Hefner admitted his mistake, to his credit, but Professor Kershnar seems to see no contradiction in first offering to have his articles vetted by a censorship committee prior to publication and then when the offer is accepted with an add-on complains that the uniersity attempted to stifle his speech. Faustian bargains of the sort that President Hefner and Professor Kershnar made behind closed doors have no place in the academy.”

Um.

If the commenter had actually read the primary documents, he would have seen Kushnar’s proposal in a different light. I read it as a very clear smack to the president. Kreshner’s proposal, focusing on “factual inaccuracies” was simply a way to show that the president’s claims of misrepresentation were bunk - in order to stop his newspaper columns from being published, the committee would have to demonstrate what factual inaccuracies were in the proposed article. Since the president’s claims that Kreshnar was misrepresenting the university’s policies were never supported, one imagines that the president’s real problem was the Kreshnar accurately represented the univerisity’s policies in an unfavorable light. Kreshnar’s proposal was calling the president’s bluff: Show me the misrepresentation. Oh, you can’t? Then give me my promotion, you free-speech-squelching jackass.

I find it heartening that Kreshnar’s liberal colleagues went to bat for a colleague with an opposing but intellectually valid viewpoint and that the administration’s attempted denial was the product of asinine bureauratic impulse rather than a direct political motivation.

Your humble Smallholder lives in the tiny virginia hamlet of Batesville. Population: 100 (actually 99 now that the horse has died). We actually have a town song that we sing during the Christmas carol festivities in which we proudly proclaim ourselves a podunk “one horse town with a lot of heart.”

But crime, my friends, has come to Batesville.

Our good friend and occasional commentator Polymath hired a guy out of Crozet to paint the roof of Polymathschloss. The painter brought his ne’er-do-well son along to help (I found this out much later). And this is where the serpent enters the garden. Years from now, when we look back a bemoan the loss of the innocent Batesville years, we will all blame Polymath. We might even have to arrange for an old-school blanket party to help him atone for his sins.

Ne’er-do-well son, driving home from the paint job evidently saw my pigs who are pastured right next to the road. He tells one of his buddies and they decided to have a pig roast.

They came at night, shot one of the pigs with a crossbow, jumped the fence, manhandled the 300 pound carcass over the fence, hung it up in paint man’s garage, and went to a party. These two 18 year old dropouts then brag to everyone at the party that they shot a pig in Batesville.

Unfortunately for them, some of the kids at the party liked my pigs. People who drive down my road frequently slow down and even stop to enjoy the pigs. Most people have never seen pigs being pigs in the woods. The Batesville pigs are well known and beloved. I keep running into people at the pool or the local store who talk about them. Yep, I say, they’re mine. At any rate, some of those kids did the right thing and came to tell me who killed the pig.

I called the cops. And, not knowing that they had stolen the body, spent an hour walking through the woods trying to find the victim. Not finding anything, I figured that the other pigs,being pigs, had eaten their less fortunate colleague.

When the policeman finally showed up, I gave him the names of the perpetrators. A dead pig is not a high priority in the police department, so he suggested I file a citizen’s warrant (he was familiar with the two boys from previous cases). So I went to the magistrate to swear out a warrant against the two boys. The magistrate looked up livestock killing and found out that it was a class five felony. I swore out a citizen’s felony warrant and the magistrate told me it would take a week or so to serve the warrants.

I was pretty hot, as you can imagine. But I also realized that a conviction would be almost impossible. I thought that the body has disappeared and the only evidence was based on hearsay. So I was not optimistic about justice and definitely not optimistic about recovering the loss. Unlike the Maximum Leader and Minister of Propaganda, your humble Smallholder is not a “man of wealth and taste.” I’m a school teacher and a farmer and the loss of one seventh of my hog crop was a big financial blow to my family.

And then I got to thinking. Many of the criminals I deal with in the after school program have parents who are enablers. I knew that the triggerman lived in a trailer park and had recently beaten his father so badly that he had to go to the hospital, so it was unlikely that he had parents to bail him out. But through the miracle of the internet and property tax records, I discovered that paint boy’s family owned a house in Crozet. So I looked up the Snow family of Crozet in the phone book. There are a lot of Snows in Crozet. But I did find a listing with the boy’s name.

Woman answers the phone: “Hello?”

“Is C____ Snow there?”

“He’s not in right now.”

“Well, you tell your boy that I know he killed my hog and if I don’t have restitution by the end of the day, I’m prosecuting to the full extent of the law!”

“Wait, wait! My husband C_______ is thirty years old. This happens all the time. We are always getting calls for the C________ who is eighteen.”

Oops. Ah well, it was worth a try.

But the woman evidently called the correct group of Snows because the next day paint man comes up my driveway with $1000 in cash. Introduces himself and says he is the father of one of the boys who shot my pig. I invite him inside because I want witnesses and have a friend in the kitchen. Dad comes in, almost in tears, and tells us that he came home from work to find the pig hanging in his garage. The boys told him they bought it somewhere but he thought the story sounded littly hinky and was upset about all the blood on the floor. He told them to move it. He says his boy was a good boy and had never been in trouble except when he was with the triggerman. I refrained from saying that his boy wasn’t good at all if he thought it was morally acceptable to shoot and steal someone’s animal. He says that when the other Snow called him he called the boys in and the triggerman came up with the $1000 to pay me. I asked why the boys hadn’t come over and he said that he didn’t know what kind of people we were and was afraid that I might be violent towards the boys.

Now, if I had come upon them in the act of stealing the pig, I don’t know what I would have done. My wife and I were out for our anniversery dinner. My wondeful inlaws told us they would stay up late to watch the wee ones and that we should see a movie too. If we had come straight home from dinner, we might have pulled up behind their truck. If that had happened, I’m not sure what I would have done. I imagine I would have been enraged. And I also imagine that I would have felt protective of my wife. I probably would have picked up the trailer hitch on the floorboard of the truck and went after them. Either they would have killed me with the crossbow or I would have beaten them pretty badly. I’ve actually had nightmares about this. I kill one and go to jail and can’t see my kids.

But once the act was over, I wouldn’t have been violent. So I tell the man he needs to go get the bys and bring them to the house to apologize and pay restitution themselves - and I’ll have a police officer there to witness the restitution.

He leaves to get the boys and I call the police. They don’t seem to be that interested in coming out until I say that I don’t know what will happen. Then they dispatch a police officer.

The boys drive up, give me the thousand dollars, and confess that they killed the pig. The triggerman starts bawling and says they “only wanted to eat it.” (”Well, in that case, be my guest! Stealing from my family is fine as long as you want to have a pig roast!”) Paint boy mumbles that he was “just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” This set me off. I hate when kids try to deny responsibility and place blame on the world at large. I lit into him: “No, you made a choice. You and your buddy chose to come to my house after dark. You chose to climb over my woven wire and electric fences. You chose to help your buddy get the hog over the fence. You chose to load the hog into your truck. You chose to hang it up in your garage. It wasn’t a series of circumstances beyond your control. You chose to commit this crime.”

Our friend, who is witnessing this from the front porch, says it was better than a crime drama on TV. I then lit into both of them for hurting the pig, hurting my family, and hurting the community as a whole because they would have one less pig to watch.

The policeman stood there and listened until I wound down. He then said that it was good that they had paid restitution but there was a felony arrest warrant for them and he would take them downtown. He handcuffed the crying boys and took them in.

CSI Batseville: Making the guilty confess!

I’ll continue the saga in another post.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader isn’t sure why his post of last night didn’t show up until today. Not like it was a great post or anything… Just a hiccup in the Al Gore created internets or something…

Well, your Maximum Leader said that he was wasting his free time yesterday playing Rome:Total War and watching Monday Night Football. Since you, loyal minion, probably have no interest whatsoever in reading about the e-exploits of your Maximum Leader as leader of the Scipii faction as he has taken most of Greece and significant chunks of North Africa; he will instead regale you with his thoughts on Monday Night Football.

Frankly, your Maximum Leader didn’t give a hoot about the game. Raiders v. Vikings. It is preseason and they don’t count for anything. He would, instead, prefer to give catty assessments of his thoughts while watching the game.

First thought… Your Maximum Leader’s digital cable package doesn’t seem to inclue ESPN HD. And that sucks. He’ll have to rectify that situation right away.

Second thought… Vikings new uniforms are nothing to write home about. In fact, your Maximum Leader prefers the old ones. Second thought sub-a… What happened to the Viking painted on the midfield “grass?” The great Viking head is now replaced with some pseudo-funky “MV” in a san-serif font. For a moment your Maximum Leader wondered to himself, “MV? What the hell does that stand for? What happened to the Viking head?” The new owner is just indulging his wife and redesigning the uniforms and the grass for her to feel like she is part of the ownership experience… Oy! Is that a sexist thought or what?

Third thought… Your Maximum Leader loves Tony Kornheiser. But Tony seemed to be ready to void on himself at any moment. If there is a reason to broadcast Monday Night pre-season games it is let Tony get more at ease with himself on the show. Overall he gives Tony a C+ in his initial outing.

Fourth thought… Your Maximum Leader still doesn’t like Joe Thiesman. He never really has liked Joe. When he was QB of the ‘Skins - he was okay. As a broadcaster, he doesn’t do it for your Maximum Leader. Joe seemed to want to engage in banter with Tony, but it was forced sounding. That could have been because of Tony’s nerves.

Fifth thought… Michele Tafoya is a great sideline reporter, but your Maximum Leader would prefer a much younger, much hotter, much more suggestively dressed, vapid female sideline reporter. Your Maximum Leader has a soft spot in his black heart for Suzi Kolber. So she stays. But how about just giving the other mic to the various cheerleading squads to pass around? That would be more fun.

Sixth thought… Art Shell is one mean-looking S.O.B.

Seventh and final thought… He can’t wait for real games to begin…

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader is surprisingly busy today. He has also decided to not blog, but instead waste his free time playing Rome: Total War and watching Monday Night Football.

In the meanwhile, read this peice from Haaretz (which your Maximum Leader found via the Llamas). The crucial paragraph in the piece:

Instead of being constructive elites, in the past generation the Israeli elites have become dismantling elites. Each in its own area, each by its own method, dealt with the deconstruction of the Zionism enterprise. Step by step, the top 1000th percentiles abandoned the existential national effort. They stopped doing reserve duty, they stopped sending their sons to the fighting units. They mocked those officers who warned about unilateral withdrawals. They mocked those officers who warned that the emergency warehouses were emptying out and the enemies were becoming stronger. And they deceived themselves and those around them that Tel Aviv is in fact Manhattan. Money is in fact everything. And thus they bequeathed to young Israelis a legacy of values that makes it very difficult for them to attack even when the attack is fully justified. Because a country that lacks equality, that lacks justice and that lacks faith in the rightness of its path, is a country for which it is very difficult to go on the attack. It is a country for which not many are willing to kill and be killed.

Humm… Is this Israel or the US?

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader, as you may recall, spent last week at the beach. One day he was sitting in the pool just relaxing. The pool has this little island in the middle with some submerged benches in it so that you can sit in the water. While your Maximum Leader was sitting there, watching the Villainettes and minding his own business, a young couple swam up and sat next to him.

When your Maximum Leader says a young couple he means that these were both (probably) recent high school graduates. 18-19 tops. They were both young and beautiful. Indeed, they were both stunning physical specimens.

So, they were sitting in each other’s loving embrace on the bench next to your Maximum Leader. He chanced to overhear them talking. It was something like this:

Him: Oh baby. I’m so glad your parents let you come to the beach with me and my parents.
Her: Yeah. They were very cool about it since your parents will be here.
Him: I love you so much baby. I can’t believe it’s been over six months since we met.
Her: Yeah. The time has passed quickly.
Him: I don’t know what I can do to prove my love for you baby.
Her: Yeah.
Him: You know, baby… My parents are going out for dinner tonight. We could bag out and say we are going to get pizza delivered and watch a movie.
Her: Yeah.
Him: Then, you know…
Her: Yeah. Maybe.
Him: Oh baby. I hurt thinking about you.
Her:
Him:
Her:
Him: Oh baby. You’re so sweet. You are like the hottest.
Her:
Him: You are like a Greek Goddess.
Her: Aren’t Greeks sorta hairy.
Him: Oh baby. Your hair is beautiful.
Her:
Him: Oh baby. Let’s stay in tonight.
Her: Maybe.

And so it went for longer than your Maximum Leader caed to listen. He decided to swim away.

But right before he swam away he wanted very desperately to interject himself into the conversation. In fact, he wanted to prove himself completely villainous. If your Maximum Leader were not a faithful husband and father he would have turned to the girl and said: “Look Sugar Tits, this guy wants to nail you pretty hard. But he’s got nuthin to offer. Well, nuthin except being 18 and horny. How’s about you and me go out. Yeah. I’m older and not as good looking. But I make six figures. Own my own car. Have large cash reserves. Can buy you things he can’t even think of. You know… I can treat you real nice. And after about 15 minutes of sex I like to have a bowl of ice cream and watch TV. You can do whatever you want then… So… How ’bout it?”

Your Maximum Leader thinks that the odds are about even that he would have scored.

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader only discovered Big Stupid Tommy’s site about 5 months or so ago. Perhaps about a month ago he added Big Stupid Tommy onto the blogroll.

Today he read a post there that made him laugh so hard he cried. Tears streaming down his face crying. Crying so hard Mrs Villain came to see what was the matter. Crying so hard and pointing at the screen that Mrs Villain felt compelled to read the post too. She laughed herself to tears.

Wanna check it out for yourself?

Clicky here.

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader wasn’t sure what to blog about today. Afterall, he just let go last night when he produced the previous post. So, he might do a few quick updates today for your reading pleasure.

The first one is this piece on Caring for your Introvert from The Atlantic Online. Your Maximum Leader’s favourite bit:

Are introverts oppressed? I would have to say so. For one thing, extroverts are overrepresented in politics, a profession in whch only the garrulous are really comfortable. Look at George W. Bush. Look at Bill Clinton. They seem to come fully to life only around other people. To think of the few introverts who did rise to the top in politics - Calvin Coolidge, Richard Nixon - is merely to drive home the point. With the possible exception of Ronald Reagan, whose fabled aloofness and privateness were probably signs of a deep introverted streak (many actors, I’ve read, are introverts, and many introverts, when socializing, feel like actors), introverts are not considered “naturals” in politics.

Humm… Introverts feel like actors when socializing. A good turn of phrase. Your Maximum Leader wonders how blogging would fit into this analysis?

One more bit your Maximum Leader with which your Maximum Leader is in complete agreement:

My own formula is roughly two hours alone for every hour of socializing.

Bingo!

Your Maximum Leader doffs his bejeweled floppy (myllan) cap to Don for the link.

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader (or has he thinks he is prefering to be called “His Most Exhalted Worshipful Grand Villain Enthroned in the East” - a title that has a great Asiatic Potentate ring to it; or if not Asiatic Potentate then some sort of Crusader King…) has decided to stray from the meaningless (if entertaining) drivel he’s been posting recently to start to lay down some thoughts that keep going through his mind. You will, perhaps, forgive him if the thoughts seem rather bleak and melancholy.

It is common for parents to worry about the future of their children. Your Maximum Leader, as you may know, has procreated three wonderful children with Mrs Villain.* And over the past few days his hopefulness for the future has diminished greatly. The news today of the apprehension of Islamic terrorists in Britain (and the unconfirmed reports that these terrorists were “grown in Britain”) doesn’t do much to improve your Maximum Leader’s mood. Indeed, as your Maximum Leader types these words the front page of the Washington Post captures the essence of his thoughts at a glance. Headlines like “Making a liquid bomb is not hard experts say.” or “Israel Hits Tower, Warns of more Bombing.” or “Lebanon can lead to World War.”

Gloomy stuff, n’est-ce pas?

Your Maximum Leader, in looking for a book to take to the beach with hi (in case he finished Flashman and the Mountain of Light) was a travelogue. Your Maximum Leader has been taken by good travelogues for a while. Alas, real good ones are hard to find. But one that he could commend to you all is Wilfred Theisger’s Arabian Sands.

Your Maximum Leader finished Flashy and started to read, again, Arabian Sands. It is an account of Theisger’s travels through the Empty Quarter of the Arabian penninsula immediately after World War II - but before the great discovery of oil. Your Maximum Leader read the book in 2003, just after Thesiger’s death. At the time it read it rather uncritically. Uncritically from the perspective of thinking that what he was reading was reality only 60 years before. Nomadic Bedu wandering the deserts of Arabia. Living as they had for centuries. Living on the edge of starvation. Living on the edge of what anyone would call civilization.** It was a brutal life. It was a life that we’d not seen ever in the West. A life whose closest Western antecedent was likely Medieval or even Pre-Roman.

Your Maximum Leader couldn’t get out of his head that these primative (and they were primatives) Bedu are the grandparents of the modern Saudis, Yemeni, Bahranis, Qutarese, Kuwaitis, and others. These uneducated, unsophisticated, unenlightened people are now awash in the oppression of oil money.

Now before you get your Maximum Leader wrong on this point, the Bedu didn’t have the luxury of education (at least education beyond the school of life that you had to pass out of to live the Bedu way), or sophistication (in terms of what we can call “high culture”) or enlightenment. Those things, which have - one hopes - value in the West didn’t have value to those eaking out an existance in the desert.

Now those people are oppressed by oil money. Money that doesn’t flow to them, but flows around them through the hands of royal benefactors. Life may have become easier from the point of view of creature comfort, but you can’t grow a civilization in 60 years.

And so we have the problem of radical Islam… Simple people with faith living a subsistence life in the desert have become angry people lashing out at the modern world.

Your Maximum Leader will not spend the time now going over the same - some would say tired - points of the past. Undereducation. Lack of a religious reformation. Poverty. Corruption. All the things that contribute to the problem. But he is reading Thiesger and thinking to himself, “Islam is a pillar in the desert when you have nothing. But what does it support when you have been given the material progress of hundreds of years but not the intellectual progress of that period.”

Your Maximum Leader does not believe that all Muslims are terrorists. Nor does he believe that all Muslims are prone to violence against non-Muslims. But in that great cresent of the world stretching from North Africa, through the Middle East, the Indian Subcontinent, and into Southeast Asia, the majority of Muslims would just as soon see ill befall the Western World as see their lot improved. The “Muslim Street” regardless of the street’s location (be it Morocco, Egypt, Lebanon, Iraq, Iran, Pakistan, or Indonesia) doesn’t care more for life on the street to improve than it cares about seeing the West suffer. So long as they can blame Israel, Britain, Austrailia, and the US for their problems - and see harm befall us in wars; they are happy.

That is a pretty sad idea to have settle in your mind. Pretty sad indeed.

Your Maximum Leader believes that Israel should continue its war against Hezbollah. Indeed, he’d even say that Israel should be more ruthless in its prosecution of the war. But he wonders if any good will come of it. This is not to say that laying down your arms and turning the other cheek is the answer eiter. Because no good will come of that. At least no good if you are an Israeli.

At some level, the enemies of the West are so base that one has to wonder if anything short of barbaric force will get your point across. Your Maximum Leader wonders about his own humanity and compassion when he realizes that he feels very little or no sympathy for the “people of Lebanon.” It seems to him as though the “people of Lebanon” let Hezbollah move in among them. They let Hezbollah arm their villages and towns. They felt some pride when Hezbollah sniped at Israelis and started to fire rockets across the border. Now they call Israel barbaric for striking back. Those people, in your Maximum Leader’s mind - if not fully his heart - are reaping the whirlwind.

A whirlwind that he doesn’t think should abate just yet.

In the above linked article by Richard Holbrooke, the former UN Ambassador says that the current Lebanon conflict can rapidly spiral out of control and spread across Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Iran, and Pakistan. What is needed is engagment by the United States. The Bush Administration has to roll up their shirtsleeves and get busy talking. Your Maximum Leader agrees. Indeed, he agrees that the situation might not be quite as bad as it is if the US had a more hands-on approach. But, the situation is what it is. The US should try and broker some sort of deal.

But if we are brokering, we need to let the killing continue while we talk. Why let up the pressure? Tell Hezbollah that if they can go 48 hours without a rocket attack against Israel, then we’ll tell the Israelis to stop. Tell Syria that they have to shut down the flow of arms to Lebanon, and allow verification; then we’ll stop. Tell the “Street” that if they want the bombings to stop, if they want their farms back, if they want to see the bloodshed end; then they can turn over the Hezbollah in their neighborhoods. They can tell an Israeli where the weapons caches are.

Up to this point every ceasefire has lead to a status quo ante. The ceasefire, whatever the duration, is used to rearm, refuel, and redeploy. This time, perhaps, we should let the fighting go on while we talk. See where that gets us.

Your Maximum Leader fears for the future. Indeed, in this very post he’s written some terrible things that may not make the future any easier. But sometimes one has to face the fact that the enemy of the West is not a rational actor. You cannot reason with irrational actors. They only understand base reactions. Fight or flight. Perhaps it is time to give them a base reaction. A base reaction only barely restrained by a thin veneer of Western Civilization. Then perhaps we can prove our resolve. Resolve which is a quality the enemy doesn’t believe we have.

Of course, we have yet to prove to ourselves that we DO actually have resolve…

Carry on.
(more…)

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader is an avid reader of Patum Peperium. He regularly reads all of the comments on all of the posts. Patum Peperium is one of the few blogs where reading the comments improves the quality of your visit. It is a testament to both Mrs & Mr P and their ability to write in a way that attracts a high calibre commenter.

Anyhoo…

It is because of a comment that Mrs. P left for your Maximum Leader on this post that he feels he must write the post you are reading. Go and read the post - it can only help frame the context of this post.

Mrs P wondered if Smithfield Hams are fed peanuts. This is an excellent question. Let’s do a little field guide to hams shall we?

First off, if you read the PP post, you might wonder what makes a Serrano Ham a Serrano Ham? Well… A Serrano Ham is a particular breed of Spanish Pig that is “finished” on acorns. By “finishing” your Maximum Leader means that the pig is fattened for a period lasting between 30 and 90 days on some suppliment to its regular diet before slaughter. In the case of the pig that becomes Serrano Ham, the suppliment is acorns. The pig is finished, then slaughtered. The hams are air cured in the mountains of Spain. The ham has a mild flavor which is accented by a nutty aroma and taste.

Many people prfer Westphalian Ham to Serrano. As it turns out, the Westphalian ham comes from the same white pig as does Serrano Ham. Indeed, the pigs that will become Westphalian Ham are also finished on acorns. But, in the case of Westphalian Ham, the pigs are slaughtered and smoked using juniper wood in Germany. The Westphalian Ham, as a consequence, has a smoky and herbal flavor imbued in the meat.

Now, Mrs P specifically asked about Smithfield Hams and peanuts. Allow your Maximum Leader to address that question. A pig that is finished on peanuts and then is slaughtered and cured in any fashion is a Virginia Ham. You often find Virginia Ham (or Virginia Style Ham) in the deli section of your local supermarket. The curing is inconseqential to the appelation of “Virginia Ham.” So long as the pig is finished on peanuts, it is a Virginia Ham.

A Smithfield Ham, on the other hand, is a ham that is salt-cured and aged in or around Smithfield, Virginia. (Technically, a Smithfield Ham can come from the Town of Smithfield, Virginia or the surrounding county - Isle of Wright County, VA. Due to a peculiar historical circumstance, towns and cities in Virginia are not part of the counties in which they reside. So, Smithfield, VA is a completely separate jurisdiction from the surrounding Isle of Wright County.) Smithfield Hams are almost always smoked and salt-cured. Though your Maximum Leader is familiar with a brand that is salt-cured but not smoked.

Smithfield Hams are the premier type of “Country Ham.” They have been smoking and curing hams in Smithfield, VA since 1635. They have the method down pretty well. In other areas of the United States, when a ham is salt-cured it is a Country Ham. Although, many will use the appelations “Smithfield” and “Country” rather interchangably. Your Maximum Leader only buys and prepares Smithfield Hams. Indeed, he generally does the trek to Smithfield once a year to pick his ham out of the Joyner’s smokehouse… (But that is another story.)

Smithfield and Country Hams are known for their saltiness. Indeed, in order to be vaugely edible, the hams have to be soaked in water for hours (if not days) before they are boiled and cooked. Your Maximum Leader, when preparing a Smithfield Ham, generally soaks his ham in a cooler of fresh water for 5 days. He changes the water every 8 hours. (For your information, your Maximum Leader never gets Smithfield Hams under 15 pounds. For all the work involved one should just go whole hog… As it were.) After soaking for 5 or so days, he boils the ham in a large cauldron for about 20-25 mins per pound. And he should note that the poundage of the ham has increased as the moisture - which was removed from the meat in the salt-curing process - was replaced. So, his 15 pound ham from the smokehouse is likely closer to 20-25 pounds heavy when it goes into the cauldron.

Once the ham has been boiled, your Maximum Leader trims off the fat and likes to put on a glaze of mustard, honey, and brown sugar. Not much glaze. Just enough to flavor the quarter inch or so of fat he leaves on the ham. Then he bakes the ham at 350 for long enough to crystalize the glaze.

Once cooked, Smithfield ham must be cut very thin. Even with the soaking the meat is still salty. If cut too thick it can also be stringy and tough to chew. Shaved Smithfield Ham is the way to go.

Now one more note on the Smithfield Hams. As they are salt-cured, they do not require refridgeration. Just hang them in a cool dark place and they will last for years. And your Maximum Leader can vouch for that. You see, as he mentioned, your Maximum Leader goes down to Smithfield to purchase a ham annually. Round about 1991 he was asked by a friend to pick up an additional ham - for the friend. Your Maximum Leader did this. But the friend determined after the ham was purchased that it was too much work to prepare. So, your Maximum Leader took the ham down to the basement, hung it up in a closet, and forgot about it. Forgot about the ham for about 6 years. Yes… Six years… 
Upon remembering the ham, there was great discussion among the extended Villainous family as to whether or not the ham would be any good. Your Maximum Leader proclaimed that it would be fine. Over time the salty flavor of the cured ham intensifies - but the meat shouldn’t spoil. So, your Maximum Leader did prepare the ham. He soaked it for 8 days (instead of 5) and prepared it as normal. It was quite delicious, if he does say so himself.

Now, one more thing about the Smithfield Ham. When you buy a Smithfield Ham they come wrapped in butcher’s paper and then placed in a cotton sack. The cotton sack is shaped just like the ham. There is something you have to do with the sack after you’ve cooked the ham… You make the Ham Pillow. Yes, loyal readers, the Ham Pillow. Indeed, it is a great honor to be bestowed a Ham Pillow by your Maximum Leader. The cotton sack is laundered. Then filled with washable pillow filling. Then it is sewn up along the open end with bright red string. Your Maximum Leader has a few Ham Pillows himself. They make for great props while watching films on the sofa. And in some extreme cases he’s heard of people cuddling with them at night while their good lady wife was away… Always keep the bag and make a Ham Pillow.

Just in case you were wondering where your Maximum Leader came up with the idea of a Ham Pillow… It was actually the idea of one of President John Tyler’s grand-children. One of President Tyler’s grand-daughters thought it would be a funny thing to make a pillow out of the bag they kept the ham in. Many generations later, the Tyler women were still making Ham Pillows and distributing them to friends. This was how your Maximum Leader came upon the idea…

Now, your Maximum Leader has completely exhausted himself on his ham exposition. And he hasn’t even hit Parma, York, Mainz, Prauge, or Paris style hams… Well… They will just have to wait for another day.

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader always relishs the e-mails he gets from his good friend the Minister of Propaganda. For those of you who might be new to this space, the Minister of Propaganda is a Left-Coast liberal, a ladies man, and an all around stand up fellow. Indeed, your Maximum Leader wishes that it was possible to spend more time with him.

Now… Your Maximum Leader likes to think of himself as a political conservative. This is not the same as a Republican - although your Maximum Leader generally aligns himself with the Republican Party on many issues. If your Maximum Leader is a solid right-wing type then his friend the Minister of Propaganda is a solid left-wing guy. If you played Dungeons and Dragons the Minister of Propaganda is a Paladin and your Maximum Leader is the Anti-Paladin. (Or vice versa - your choice.)

Anyhoo… Your Maximum Leader got two chuckles from links that the Minister of Propaganda sent him.

The first one is a cartoon entitled “Wrong.” you can see it here. Now… Your Maximum Leader doesn’t agree with many of the points the penguin is making in the cartoon - but he found it amusing anyway. Amusing mainly for the fact that he really doesn’t care for Sean Hannity. Hannity is a bit too fawning and obsequious to the Administration for your Maximum Leader’s taste. But he does know one or two people who could be the guy being lectured by the penguin. That makes the joke in his mind.

The second link was one that your Maximum Leader had seen before, and perhaps had linked to before. (He does remember it on the Big Hominid’s site as well as Annika’s site.) It was the wonderful cartoon at youtube about George Washington. Your Maximum Leader will not embed it here, but only provide you with the link. Here it is. You know, your Maximum Leader is glad that - even for the sake of a good laugh - someone out there is paying attention to George Washington. Our great founding father gets rather short shrift in our modern times. Your Maximum Leader isn’t sure why. But he does. Check it out. It might stretch the truth a little bit about George… Well… Not the part about George having 4 balls…

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader hasn’t meant for his blogging to be so irregular over the past two weeks. Indeed, if you knew your Maximum Leader personally you’d know he is a very regular fellow.

Alas, he cannot go into much detail, but please let it suffice to say that your Maximum Leader has been busy. At this point you are probably saying to yourself, “Self, my Maximum Leader probably isn’t blogging because he mentioned he was at the beach. He’s probably sitting by the surf and sipping girlie drinks.”

Well… Allow your Maximum Leader to assure you all that he is no longer at the beach. Additionally, he never drinks girlie drinks. He is a Scotch and Bourbon man. Indeed, this weekend he was able to sample freely from a rather large bottle of McCallan 18 year old Scotch. It was delicious.

No… The beach is no longer the reason for his irregular blogging. Yesterday that would have been an excuse. For yesterday he spent the better part of the day returning to the Villainschloss from the Beach. Today has been spent getting his affairs in order. You know a week at the beach will get one’s affairs out of order quite quickly. Losing that whole “routine” thing.

Your Maximum Leader knows you are out there, lurking, waiting, anticipating his next post. He hopes to post something good tomorrow.

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader sees signs everywhere. What sort of signs you may be asking yourself? Afterall we see street signs, billboard signs, lighted signs, and hand signal signs everywhere. Well, loyal readers, the signs your Maximum Leader sees are those signs that portent the end of Western Civilization as we know it.

The latest sign… From Reuters: Hundreds expected to come at masterbate-a-thon.

Okay… First off… The sexual double entendre is a bit much even for your Maximum Leader - who’s been known to indulge in a little sexual double entendreing from time to time. But once you get past the headline and article you have to just wonder what the hell is going on in the world?

Here is the article with pithy commentary from your Maximum Leader:

LONDON (Reuters) - Hundreds of Britons are being urged to attend what is being branded as Europe’s first “Masturbate-a-thon”, a leading reproductive healthcare charity said on Friday.

Marie Stopes International, which is hosting the event with HIV/AIDS charity the Terrence Higgins Trust, said it expected up to 200 people to attend the sponsored masturbation session in Clerkenwell, central London, on Saturday.

Only 200? All masturbating together? Note to Londoner friends of your Maximum Leader - wear Haz-mat suits in Clerkenwell area for next few weeks.

“It is a bit of a publicity stunt but we hope it will raise awareness,” a Marie Stopes spokeswoman told Reuters.

“We want to get people talking about safer sex, masturbation and to lift taboos.”

It would seem as though the aim of the Masturbate-a-thon is to have people do more than talk about safe sex…

Participants, who have to be over 18, can bring any aids they need and can take part in four different rooms — a comfort area, a mixed area, along with men and women only areas.

They have to be over 18? Isn’t the age of consent in Britain something like 16? And frankly, wouldn’t you want to target the promiscuous teenagers who most need this type of “dicussion.”

However, the rules on the event’s Web site states there can be no touching of other participants nor are people allowed to fake orgasms.

Why is this not reassuring? Yo can’t touch others. Leering is appropriate - presumably.”

The amount you raise will be determined by how many minutes you masturbate and/or how many orgasms you achieve,” the Web site said.

The Marie Stopes spokeswoman said local religious groups had been initially outraged, but after people had heard what the event was about, most had approved it.

Police had also given it their approval.

Lovely… Sponsored orgasms. That is a pledge sheet your Maximum Leader is sure one would like to carry around the office. “Hey Bill… Will you pledge $5 for every time I ‘beat the bishop’ if you know what I mean…. And speaking of bishops… Local religious groups stopped their objections once they heard the event was for HIV awareness? Well… One wonders if they would be willing to suspend the 10 Commandments for a good cause? The Golden Rule would go by the wayside for a good pancake dinner… Would a Muslim be allowed to forsake a Haj just to participate in an infidel-sponsored multicultural event? It boggles the mind.

Similar events have been staged in San Francisco for the last six years raising $25,000 (13,000 pounds) for women’s health initiatives and HIV prevention. If successful, Marie Stopes said it could take place elsewhere in mainland Europe next year.

Well… It doesn’t shock your Maximum Leader to learn that this fundraiser had its genesis in the US. In fact it is somewhat comforting to know that we in the US can continue to lead the world in the breaking down of sexual taboos that shouldn’t be broken down. One wonders if other EU countries will clamour over the right to host next year’s Masterbate-a-thon.

And lest you think your Maximum Leader is a complete prude… He will go on record declaring that he has nothing against Onanism. Frankly… How or if one chooses to satisfy one’s self sexually is not much of your Maximum Leader’s business. But public masturbation? Masterbation is something that ought to be kept private and personal.

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader wants to know something… What would possess otherwise attractive women to get massive tattoos all over their lower back? Really. Your Maximum Leader would like to know. He’s seen lots of tattoos around here this week. It has gotten so bad that he’s reserving judgement on the overall attractiveness of a woman until he gets a good look at her and checks her out for the huge tattoo over her arse.

Frankly all large tattoos on the front, back, arm, or leg are unslightly. Your Maximum Leader can overlook some tattoos. Generally the ones that are under 2 x 2 inches square…

Carry on.

Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader will take a moment to apologize to you all. He’s not really been updating his blog too much this week. As you all know, he has been enjoying the best guest weblogging gig in the whole internet this week. If you haven’t read his posts over on The Hatemonger’s Quarterly… Well, allow you Maximum Leader to give you a few links. Here they are: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.

This week has not gone quite as your Maximum Leader expected. First off, he is at the beach. That is a bit unexpected. He’s been at the beach since Wednesday. When orginally planned, the Villainous Family (minus your Maximum Leader) were going to go to the beach on Tuesday. Then on Friday your Maximum Leader would join up with them and remain until this coming Monday. But plans changed and now your Maximum Leader has been enjoying himself in the bosom of his extended family in a big roomy beach house.

Now before you all go crying out “Pshaw… Life must be really tough on our Maximum Leader.” in that ironical voice you all have. (Don’t argue about it. Your Maximum Leader has heard your ironical voice before… *) Please know that even though he is at the beach, he has had to continue to work in all of his Maximum Leaderly duties while scheduling pool time, sauna time, swimming time, eating time, grilling time, and gazing at young attractive women in their bikini time. All that is a hard task - even for your Maximum Leader.

So… While your Maximum Leader has been juggling his time around, you - the loyal minionly readers - have suffered. He’s spent his little time for blogging trying to write something that doesn’t suck for the Crack Young Staff over on HMQ. He must admit tha he felt good about his Gibson and Castro posts. The others are just, ‘okay.’ Consider this post an apology in the Socratic sense for his dearth of postings this week.

Carry on.
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