Mr. Lipsey's appeal was dismissed.

Here is the court's opinion, written by Judge Ulysses G. Thibodeaux.

The Sentinel has excerpted the opinion here. It's a little easier to read.

UPDATE: My opinion, which is not that of an election lawyer, is that Mr. Lipsey was between a rock and a hard place concerning due diligence prior to the vote. If he had followed up on his allegations that some Concordia Parish Sheriff's Office employees were being forced to register to vote illegally, and to vote for Mr. Maxwell (beats me how their votes could be proved), he would have endangered some jobs and aroused ire among the very employees that he would have headed had he won. I suppose there could have been some surprise challenges on election day.

One of the requirements for holding a position in the CPSO is to reside within Concordia Parish, as is one of the requirements for voting in Concordia Parish. So each employee voter that he outed for illegal registration due to residency requirements was also holding their job against the rules*.

That's no way to make friends.

UPDATE II: Not just the state of Louisiana is loathe to overturn elections. Better to make your case and and have good turnout on election day. One of Mr. Lipsey's problems regarding fraud is that only something around 7,000 of 13,000 registered voters voted at all. He had a large excess pool to draw from.

On the other hand, in one of the elections Huey Long had control of, St. Bernard Parish turned out more than 3,000 votes in a parish with 2,500 something registered voters.

* There is nothing illegal about sheriff's office employees living outside the parish, Lyman says. A handbook requirement.

Nobody can carry on like an overwrought southerner.

This sheriff's race has brought on a lot of high emotion. The decision from the appellate court should be announced in the next few hours. The Democrat's story with comments is here. (I expect those comments to be closed anytime now.)

The Concordia Sentinel saw fit to publish an editorial condemning undocumented accusations by anonymous persons in local and national forums.

On one public local board, concordiaunderground.org, some people took exception to this editorial, and have defended their right to post opinions anonymously. To a degree, I agree with them. In a small region like this, there is occasion for reprisal against whistleblowers. What I haven't seen is a lot of evidence of legal wrongdoing.

But that's not to my point. My point is that Scarlett O'Hara herself might consider the following statement a little emphatic:

And this editorial has the gall to state that we should bare our throats with our true identities so the knife of corruption can slice into us without reason.

And it's just not as lyrical as this one.

UPDATE: I do think that southerners can sense their Shakespeare better than anyone else.

"Oh, that this too, too solid flesh would melt, thaw, and resolve itself into a dew ..."

Check out this Volokh post for a fun geography game.

I had no idea that Patricia Cornwell is a lesbian.

Not that it makes any difference. I'll still be looking forward to new novels.

(Thanks, Mr. Blair.)

Fabio, Fabio. You're still a fine-looking man, but hon, you're 48. Isn't it time to cut your hair?

Samson you ain't.

(Thanks, Ms. Althouse.)

The Food Network was built on Emeril's popularity, but I won't miss him.

His show had become predictable and tedious.

Lucy laid an egg at 9:24 p.m.

Lucy is tired and tucked after seeing her big brothers.

I could never do a split.

Thanks, Nate.

You don't see much of this since Ed Sullivan went off the air.

Jason is reading Choke. It looks like fun.

FRESH VEGETABLE CASSEROLE

2 tablespoons margarine or butter
2 large onions, sliced in rings
3 carrots, sliced
1/2 medium bell pepper, sliced in rings
1/2 pound fresh green beans, long snaps
2 large tomatoes, peeled and sliced
1/4 cup chopped parsley
1 3/4 teaspoons salt
1/4 teaspoon seasoned salt
1 1/2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper

In a skillet melt the margarine. Add onions and sauté until light brown. Place the onion, carrots, bell pepper, green beans, tomatoes and parsley in a greased 2-quart shallow casserole. Mix lightly and add the seasonings. Bake the casserole, covered, at 350 degrees for 1 hour, or until the vegetables are tender, stirring once. Serves 8.

From this book.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!

I'll tell you our menu in Michael's words:

Spinach salad from the garden, chicken stuffed with rice and mushrooms, fresh vegetable casserole, maque choux, dinner rolls, and pork ribs in the oven for dessert.

When Lyman's sons come home to visit, they always bring loads of laundry.

There are never any sheets in there.

Well, whaddya know.

I don't like'em much, but I do have a couple of intricate stalks of silk ivy that I use in the living room. Some places want that organic frilliness. And they were some kind of dusty.

I used the salt method, in a kitchen garbage bag, and they're much better. Thanks, Sue D.

... and I need to get Huey Long back to the library.

We've had some drama around the local sheriff's election on October 20.

Resolution here. The Democrat has found it necessary to close comments on some stories regarding this election.

UPDATE: More here and here.

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Now that's a little scary.

(Thanks, Sarah.)

Mostly Cajun points out PC madness in publishing children's books.

Alkahest? (Free Rice)

I just found this picture of Charlie in the camera. I like it.

He appears to have had a bath.

All right. I give up now.

Does "kerf" mean 1) expert 2) hobo 3) notch 4) mushroom?

I'll go for notch.

This year, the next satsuma tree up the row is loaded.

Here is the picture of a pretty pink poppy that kitchen hand mentioned below, with a story.

Mine was one of these -- that tangerine one back there, with a white vinyl top. If you'll scroll down you'll see an example of the "deluxe" plaid interior.

My friend Sam named it "Wanda".

That's all bad enough, but I couldn't keep a water pump in it.

UPDATE: My next car was a totally gray Nissan Sentra.

"That's fine with me."

Ms. Althouse has something else interesting today.

Fact is, people need makeup on TV. How will they overcome the difference in appearance between regular and high-definition television while it lasts?

A commenter at Hit & Run said that on his HDTV, the only person near the stage during last night's Democratic debate who didn't look 150 years old was Mr. Obama.

UPDATE: One of the commenters at Althouse says that the pron industry is much dismayed by the higher resolutions.

Cutting edge? London? Aw shoot, they do that at Dimples ever night.

(Thanks, Ms. Althouse.)

Have you seen these?

Lyman brought a pack home this week. They do smell and taste like grapes, or to be true, like grape soda.

I have a request.

A few weeks ago I had a hankering for graham crackers. I bought a box of Nabiscos, and I've eaten most of them. They were dandy.

But what's better, and would be more wholesome for Janis and the birds, would be a nice homemade digestive biscuit.

I've found a few recipes. Do you have one that you use?

I'm with Dr. Taylor. Surely they're kidding.

Gail Collins of the New York Times sure enough doesn't like John Edwards:

Something weird is going on with John Edwards, who was cheerfulness incarnate when four years ago he was the moderate-Southerner-who-can-speak-to-the-Reagan-Democrats. Then he morphed into a sorrowful populist who thought we should vote for him because he cared the most about the poor. Now he’s running around like a rabid gerbil, telling people he should be president because he’s the angriest. Soon, he’s going to run out of adjectives to embody.

"A rabid gerbil?" That's unkind.

I've never tried to grow poppies.

Time to pick on Tony.

In this post he comments that men do not have good fits for jock straps, either.

So I suggest that you use the same water displacement technique. And let your engineers take it on. (I'd think there is some kind of codpiece with gel for professional athletes.)

It's near Thanksgiving, so the best vessel I can recommend is a turkey pot. Parts will fit, won't they?

I was wandering around the blogs at The New Republic, and found this post.

Go on, go on ... waste an hour or so.

UPDATE: Well, by golly, I thank Robert Graves for I, Claudius. Claudication means "lameness."

Hard for me to fathom how measuring the weight of one's breasts would help with overall fit. I'd suppose my breasts weigh about the same as they did when I was 22. They just aren't in the same places.

But I do like this comment: "If men wore bras you can bet your life a bra would have been designed which fits, flatters and feels comfortable to wear!"- Leanne, Notts UK

UPDATE: I like the looks of this line.

UPDATE II: Now I'm thinking, how could I be so sexist as to agree with Leanne? Where are the women engineers looking to our comfort? They darned sure aren't designing shoes. And it is an engineering problem rather than a fashion problem, at least at my age.

Your Inner European is Russian!

Mysterious and exotic. You've got a great balance of danger and allure.

Who's Your Inner European?

Well, now. My inner musician is Tchaikovsky, and my inner European is Russian. A pattern develops.

(Thanks, Ms. Postrel.)

Hard to say what that means, but I'll expect a "cease and desist" letter from MENSA anyday now.

(Thanks, Possum.)

Oh, wow!

I might have to buy a couple of those for the sons' stockings.

(Thanks, Latino.)

Then maybe a couple of certificates for carbon credits to offset their auto use. Wouldn't that be cool?

I think that would be enough.

I've read up to page 690 of the nearly 900 page biography of Huey Long. At this point, he has become a U.S. Senator and is in conflict with FDR, which is showing in the home state.

But I want to go back (pp. 537-8), to where Mr. Long was organizing the race for his succession to governor of LA. Earl Long, as his brother and party organizer, thought the lieutenant governorship was his for the asking. His older brother disagreed. So the whole Long family took to the stump against each other, most aligned with Earl.

Mr. Williams writes this:

[Huey] would begin the story by describing a social gathering popular with rural Protestants -- an "all-day singing" at the church, with "dinner on the grounds." At such a meeting in Winnfield, he would continue, the mothers had laid their babies on a pallet under a tree during the dinner. As they were clearing the table, a violent storm suddenly broke. Each mother hastily collected her child. But there was one baby that nobody would claim, an ugly, squalling brat. Mrs. Long, unwilling to see the child abandoned, had taken it home and adopted it. "That was Earl."

So Huey Long said.

Thank you, Mr. Drum.

The most telling paragraph, considering the general tenor of Democratic comment in the blogosphere, is this one:

Many conservative Christian leaders say they can count on the specter of a second Clinton presidency to fire up their constituents. But the prospect of an Obama-Giuliani race is another matter. “You would have a bunch of people who traditionally vote Republican going over to Obama,” said the Rev. Donald Wildmon, founder of the Christian conservative American Family Association of Tupelo, Miss., known for its consumer boycotts over obscenity or gay issues.

That upsets the assumption of racism in the South, I would say. The Republicans he's talking about aren't black.

And help us, this was said in Kansas rather than Louisiana, not that it might'nt be: "“Obama sounds too much like Osama,” said Kayla Nickel of Westlink. “When he says his name, I am like, ‘I am not voting for a Muslim!’"

Like, Kayla, are you an ignorant xenophobe, or what?

It's such a pretty day, I ... cleaned my refrigerator!

That should be good for a day or two.

It's cool outside today.

Try for the first time a posole? Or go with tried and true Ally's Green Chili?

What to do, what to do?

C'mon, Tigers. Alabama ain't all that.

Now, Nick's something.

Oh, poor Sweeties, didn't I tell you to stay outside?

What an awful way to die.

I have moved on to this book. And I have a question for anyone who can answer.

The "Old Regulars" political machine in New Orleans refused to allow natural gas to be piped into the city, keeping the citizenry dependent on more expensive "artificial gas". What was this artificial gas? The author doesn't say.

And how about "Swords Lee" as a name? Beats "Ashley Wilkes" anyday.

UPDATE: In 1927, Riley J. Wilson was one of the candidates for governor of Louisiana. He grew up in poor circumstances and often talked of having to go barefoot as a child. Huey Long said, "I can go Mr. Wilson one better; I was born barefoot."