José Alberto "Pepe" Mujica Cordano

Planned obsolescence. Early in December we brought out the Christmas lights to string them on our bushes and trees out front. As usual, half the damn things didn’t work. We had to go to Home Depot for more.

As we were browsing the lights there, I noticed on first one, then another, then another package the same legend: “One year warranty.” Ah.

Nut Kune Do. In a VDARE.com piece on the knockout game I mentioned the use of the head as a weapon in street fighting via the technique known in 1960s Liverpool as “nutting.” The editor for the piece alerted me to this guide to proper nutting technique, which spells out the essentials.

Seems to me the martial arts are missing a trick here. The eastern traditions don’t, as I recall, use the head at all.

I’m thinking of opening a chain of schools to teach the Liverpool technique, which I shall call Nut Kune Do.

Country of the year. The Economist, in their December 21st issue, named Uruguay their Country of the Year, apparently on libertarian grounds: same-sex marriage, legalized pot, and an “admirably self-effacing” president.

That last needs qualifying. President Mujica sounds like a lefty to me. I’ll allow, though, that he’s at least an honest lefty, unlike the sanctimonious phonies the Anglosphere throws up.

The Economist is way behind me here, anyway. I’ve been wise to Uruguay for years. Look at the indicators: middling prosperous, as economically egalitarian as the USA, mild climate, very low defense spending, ninety percent white-European, no Muslims, agriculturally fertile.

I don’t know about Country of the Year, but for catastrophists seeking a refuge from the coming collapse, I suggest Uruguay as Bolt-Hole of the Year.

The war to end all wars. Get ready for the centenary fuss.

My Dad and I both married late, stretching out the generational memory. My son came home from school one day grumbling: “My classmates’ grandfathers were in Vietnam. Mine was in World War I!”

That war hung like a pall over Britain for decades afterwards. Working construction in my college vacation around 1965 I did a spell as assistant to an old stonemason, engaged in fixing marble facing to the building we were putting up. He told me he’d done his apprenticeship in the years immediately after WWI…cutting headstones for the cemeteries. For years.

I guess it’s great, but I still wish I’d never heard of it. Fecal transplants.

Today’s Army. Like Alexander Portnoy, I grew up thinking that the US Army song was “The Caissons Go Rolling Along.” Then last fall, browsing the latest Army Blue Book, I saw that they’ve changed it to “The Army Goes….”

Someone decided either that caissons were too artillery-centric or that “caisson” is too hard a word for present-day public-school graduates to master.

Whatever. Following the November 2nd wedding of two males at West Point Cadet Chapel, here’s my suggestion for a new Army song. You”€™re welcome!