"Mr. Menick Builds His Dream Rez"

News from the Nostrumite: He's in a state of permanent depression because his mother-in-law has come north for an extended visit to help care for the Nostrumette. On the positive side, this gives Odelie some free time she so desperately needs, but on the negative site, Nostrumom-in-Law has definite ideas of her own about the way things ought to be done. "She's especially down on Pecksniff," the Mite tells me. Pecksniff is, of course, the Nostrumian Applehead, way too suspiciously following in the appellational footsteps of Pip the Wondercat if you ask me; couldn't the lad come up with his own cat-naming conventions? Anyhow, Nostrumom-in-Law firmly seems to believe that Siamese are evil, and that Pecksniff will come in the night when no one is looking to steal the baby's breath. "How do you steal a baby's breath?" the Mite wonders. Good question. One envisions Si and Am from Lady and the Tramp, looking over their new domicile... So for the foreseeable f, the old Peckaroo is locked out of the nursery. Apparently Nostrumom-in-Law has no brief against the Nostrumutt, on the other hand. The geriatric pooch, who is according to my reckoning about 138 years old in people time, simply lays around all day and grunts in his sleep (much like a number of debate judges I could name, except they do it during rounds), so he's hardly a threat. Anyhow, things continue to jump in Cambridge. I'm happy I'm in New York.

According to the comments, O'C always agrees with me. Of course, I find that most disagreeable. I was hoping that he was going to have his team run that there's no such thing as juveniles, that teenagers are simply an invention of the American government. Because that is incorrect. In fact, it is Dick Cheney who is an invention of the American government; teenagers on the other hand are quite real. Except for Termite, who is an invention of Dick Cheney. But seriously, folks, having judged a hundred and umpty-ump rounds on this topic back in the day, the point is not whether juveniles exist, or whether the government is able to exactly define them, but whether people of a certain age are culpable for their crimes. Simple as that. And if you ain't eating that particular Wham, then you ain't eating the resolutionary ham.

Tomorrow is CFL Grands. The number at the moment is 22. Usually we're at 18. I would really really like to hold to 22, because the more we have, the easier to assign judges. Vaughan and I will be shadows of ourselves in any event by 6:00 tomorrow night. I've printed out a list of all the LD topics going back to '79 for a discussion of the Modest Novice with EDM, but the more I think about it, the happier I am with Civil dissing.

And Districts stuff is pouring in, although my fax machine got blocked, so it's more like 90% of Districts stuff is pouring in. I'm glad I sent very clear instructions to everyone what to do. That's why everyone keeps asking me what to do. It's not just the Jolly Tars who ignore my every utterance, it would seem. So do the collected coaches of the northeast. If they don't watch out I'll come in the night and steal their breath while they're sleeping, the yabbos! Ich bin Der Chairman! You will listen when I speak!

Piffle.