The main show goes up this Sunday at the Jersey Goddess. Until then, stroll the fairgrounds and see a few of the booths that are already set up:
Fausta's got a new look, but the same ripping-good content. Today she reruns Michael Ledeen's testimony before the House Committee on International Relations, and it is a blast of blazing sunshine in the cavefish world of willfully weak-sighted diplomats. Don some Oakleys and read the whole thing. (Or, if you prefer, the New York Sun also ran it, as is, in their editorial pages.)
Related content: Mr. Bingley asks a very good question.
Don't miss the great nature-nurture post over at Sluggo's place.
Equal Time Dept. - without any burning opinion one way or the other, I'm mildly in favor of the new Meadowlands deal for the Giants (with the Jets tagging along). It strikes me as a better deal than about any other in the past ten years - the Giants are financing the entire construction and paying rent to the state. Many, including current Sports and Exposition Authority boss George Zoffinger, sharply disagree, and Enlighten NJ has their back.
Suzette has a post about a Welsh incident near and dear to the heart of the Jersey commuter - driving while distracted. (In this case, driving while Avon, as the lass in question was dolling up while in motion.) Do take her advice (Suzette's, not the driver's) and read the comments following the article.
Picture this - you're making a show about life 1000 years in the future. An episode requires a parodic warning film about the dangers of humans dating robots. Who do you pick as the alluring robot? In this case, the writers came up with the Marilyn Monroebot. It's more than how the last name works. (They could have said "Paltrowbot," and in fact they do get a dig in on poor Gwyneth.) It's about Monroe's presence and the easy (and 100% correct) realization, from the writers, that their audience would have no trouble believing that Monroe would be known in the year 3000. Sheila remarks on the enduring Marilyn phenomenon.
I've had good stuff too, I daresay, for which one can scroll a bit downward. But any more would threaten to steal the thunder of our fair hostess this week, and that's poor carny etiquette.