So, I got tagged by no blood for hubris (http://nobloodforhubris.blogspot.com/2008/12/and-now-for-something-completely_29.html) and I am supposed to make a list of my jobs, all of them. I don't know how chronlogical it's gonna be, but here goes.
paperboy (route carrier) Omaha World Herald.
cook, prep cook KFC & Chicken Delight.
warehouseman, Sears Roebuck.
Inventory Mgmt Specialist, USAF
counterman, power and hand tool sales and service.
clerk, buyer and salesman, industrial supplies.
inside sales, applications "engineer", power transmission components (bearings, belts, motors, etc.
home improvement contractor.
directory assistance operator.
clerk, state regulatory activities, Verizon, Public Policy and External Affairs.
working on my freakin' house.
I've also been a photographer for about 25 years, but never really make any money at it (although it pays much better than writing poetry!).
Well, since I haven't had time to write my 2008 Christmas letter you'll be getting to read a retread. Maybe I'll get the other one done if some other projects get fininshed. If not, well, we'll always have 2002!
December 19, 2002
Dear Family and Friends;
I know that all of you are doing last minute shopping and gift wrapping (a complete list of my sizes, color and fabric preferences and web addresses for all the gift registries I have signed up for is attached). I’m also sure that since you have families and invite people to your homes you’re stuck with having to do a lot of cooking, cleaning and decorating for the holidays. As for myself , I do my best holiday celebrating on the move: just look out your window, I’m pulling up in front of your house as you read this!
I don’t even want to talk about politics this year as, well, we just got our butts kicked and can never hold our heads up again (oh, wait, that was my Cornhusker’s speech!). In any event I wanted to share with all of you a cautionary tale about how those who lose track of the true meaning of this holiday season will rue their bitter, empty lives.
And so it goes…
A Christmas Carol for 2002
(Ms. Stewart wanted to call it a Christmas Martha until we explained that it wasn’t named for a woman)
We open on a scene of shattered domestic bliss in the master bedroom of a palatial Manhattan townhome, bedecked with every manner of ornament and decoration appropriate to the season. and yet, something is amiss.
Martha lies abed, tossing and turning. Hers is a lonely life in these troubled days. Stock in her eponymous empire is in free-fall; a chorus of market regulators, congressional investigators, various state’s attorneys general, and the public-at-large call for her to be jailed, fined or; God forbid, forced to live in their meanly narrow lifestyles. Her old, dear friend, Sam Waksal (that rat-bastard, lying weasel) has involved her in his own contretemps regarding the Imclone scandal and has largely succeeded in deflecting attention towards her: she is such a convenient target!
Finally, she drops off into a fitful sleep, filled with fevered dreams, nightmares of living like everyone else. Suddenly, at the foot of her bed, who should appear but the Spirit of Christmas Past (who looks suspiciously like Trent Lott!) to warn her of impending doom.
Martha is carried back to her youth. Born Martha Kostyra to parents of 2nd generation Polish-Americans, she spent her early years in suburban Nutley, NJ (which exit is that?). The Spirit in a winding sheet (looking more like Trent with each passing moment!) invites her to stand at the table while her Christmas Past family enjoys their holiday repast of pierogi, guamki, red cabbage, bread with fresh lard and borscht—followed by Kolachis for dessert.
This cheery scene is replete with evidence of Martha’s early forays into event planning and decorating. Working with pipe cleaners, egg cartons, dixie cups, paper towel roll cores and library paste young Martha could fashion an entire Christmas Scene right down to the baby Jesus giggling in delight as the Three Wise Men made Frosty the Snowman and Mary mixed up a batch of spicy Mogen David gluhwein for the festive occasion.
We fast forward now, several years, to see Martha as a teenager. Already recognized as a prodigy by her High School Home Economics teacher, she is in charge of tree trimming, interior and exterior displays, gift wrapping, holiday communications (Christmas Cards, party invitations, Letters to Santa and thank you notes) for her school as well as catering several civic and private functions (once again library paste comes in handy—as an inspired choice for a last minute thickener for sauces and gravies). Additionally, as a volunteer consultant to the Nutley, NJ Department of Public Works, she assists in the planning, siting and construction of the Manger Scene (complete with paid actors and live animals) that is such a resounding success in downtown Nutley. Ah, but there’s a rub.
It seems that Martha has, much as the cuckoo in nature, pushed her siblings out of the nest. Her five brothers and sisters have been put up with neighbors or relatives as one by one they are shouldered aside to make way for the various accoutrement of Martha’s chosen profession. In a final break with any semblance of familial conviviality Martha caters her own wedding, charging her parents such an exorbitant price (although it is, admittedly, a fair value) for the reception that they are forced to sign their home over to her as a means of payment. Her guide gazes at her dolefully, in silent accusation. “No, no!” cries Martha, “I was only trying to be graceful in a graceless world. Where’s the harm in that?”. The Ghost of Christmas Past merely shakes his head , sadly, and fades from view…
Martha jerks bolt upright in her pencil-post, Gambian lacewood bed and shivers beneath her eider quilt. “Wow, what a wild, wild ride,” she thinks, “that’s the last time I have three eggnogs with Hennessy XO just before bedtime.”
But then, just as she is ready to adjust her buckwheat hull pillow and drift back into dreamland, she notices a troll at the foot of her bed. “Who are you!!!?”, she shrieks. “I am ze ghozt of Chrizmaz Prezent.” murmurs the apparition, in a voice uncannily similar to Henry Kissinger’s.
“But, But what are you doing here in my room?”, she whimpers. “Vell,” he says, “I vaz zuppozed to have ziz gig on a fact finding commizzion, but zey zaid I had a conflict of integrity or zomezing like zat. Zo, here I am, your perzonal imparzial obzerver. Let’z go for a ride”
Martha makes a very short trip through time to four o’clock in the afternoon of the following day. It’s a huge party. No expense has been spared (it is, after all 100% tax deductible). All is in readiness for the fete.
A beautiful Bristlecone Pine, named Methuselah, believed, at the age of 4,767 years, to be the world’s oldest living tree has been lovingly chopped down, flown in from high atop the Inyo mountains of California, festooned with garlands of cymbidium and onsidium orchids, draped with hand drawn sterling silver and 24 kt gold tinsel, lit with nearly a thousand beeswax tapers and covered with hundreds of blown glass ornaments and a stunning tree topper that utilizes in its design a recently discovered Faberge Egg.
The linen is measured in acres; there are gardens of flowers; orchards of fruit; herds, gaggles, flocks and prides of various beasts, sizzling on spits, roasting in ovens, bubbling in stews. Sideboards groan with a surfeit of sweetmeats and tender victuals. Hogsheads of imported ales, casks of the finest wines, jereboams of Veuve Cliqout; dusty, dusky bottles of cognac and port that were laid down when Napoleon was but an overweening prat of a Corsican Corporal. All is in readiness: the doors to the great hall are flung wide and slam against the outer wall, creating a booming echo in the unpeopled silence.
Martha is distraught, inconsolable. Does no one love her ? (Jeez, what an idiotic question—Hello!), will none sup with her on this blessed holiday? Has she been forsaken by all? (those same craven suitors who once longed for her merest nod, her benediction, her bons mots, “It’s a good thing”.) But no, what is this, the shade of the Nobel Whiner has pulled open a drawer to reveal the root of the travail. “It zeemz, Martha, you have forgotten to mail ze friggin invitationz. You vere zo caught up in your cheezy zhtock zhwaps and Imclone machinationz zat you committed a faux paz of epic proportionz”. Martha faints dead away.
By now our heroine, having endured two horrific nocturnal visits is nearly out of her mind from sleep deprivation (it will takes weeks—and repeated applications of chamomile and lousewort masks to remove the facial puffiness) and scared nearly witless. But her ordeal is not yet at an end. Once more she awakes to find a fearsome specter at her elbow—this time it’s none other than Jacko, the Gloved One himself. The two moonwalk their way into the not too distant future where Martha suddenly finds herself in a shockingly loud, International Orange, “relaxed fit” jumpsuit and realizes that the room she’s in is not a closet, or a bathroom (although it does have a sleek, stainless-steel toilet bolted to the floor). It’s her home for the foreseeable future, a 6 x 10 cell in the maximum security block at Ossining, NY.
Gone the toothsome viands of yesteryear, absent the sumptuous furnishings and appointments of her previous life. In their place, a rude, plebian table. A functional, unfashionable wardrobe. And there on the table, where the silver glove points, an oft creased and stained piece of paper, with that same precise, wonderfully cursive hand. A Christmas menu, to whit:
Salsiccon de Bologna Fricassee au Pain Wonder, avec Pommes de terre du bebe et Legumes gris.*
(Fried baloney sandwiches on Wonder Bread with Tater Tots and canned vegetables)
“Is this my end?”, she shrieks, “Is this how it must be? Oh, please, I beg of you, just one more chance, just one more chance, just one more…..
Slowly, as if rising from a great depth Martha swims to the the surface of conciousness; realizes she is still in her comfortable bed, in her lovely apartment in the Greatest City on Earth. She rushes to the window and flings it open. Drinking in the beauty that is Central Park West she spies an urchin walking with head down into the wind and calls down to him. “You there, young man. Go to Balducci’s on 11th and get me a 30 pound free range goose, some foie gras and a few bottles of Dom Perignon. We’ll have a wonderful Christmas dinner, just you and I and two or three score producers, prep and prop people, publicists and assorted hangers on. No, on second thought wait right there.” Dressing quickly in a well worn pair of keds, pedal pushers and a threadbare, “ I’M WITH STUPID” sweatshirt, Martha runs down the stairs and out the door past the startled concierge. “C’mon kid,” she says “I think today is a perfect day for a breakfast of Twinkies and RC Cola!”.
Thus ends Martha’s plight as she returns to a simpler, less avaricious and less contentious lifestyle. In later years it is hoped that Martha will relax her standards to the point where she can retire to a double wide in a mobile home park in Dade County, Florida; fashion clothing, accessories and home furnishings from various food and beverage containers; spend her sunset years watching HSN, WWF and the Weather Channel; learn how to make a really tasty possum fajita and live happily ever after.
There, now; that wasn’t so bad, was it? Actually, this idea was batted around by several of the cable channels, but Martha wanted to be involved in all aspects of the production—from storyboarding to smorgasbording and it just ain’t gonna happen.
My life is good, I’m staying near the lifeboats just in case, but so far we are all still afloat here at the Real Phone Company (Verizon).
I was able to get to my 35th High School Reunion this past summer. I think this will probably be the last one where we go up and down the stairs or wear shoes that aren’t white. I had a lot of fun trying to remember who my classmates were or where I live.
Lucky you, I’m out of paper (print version). Happy Holidays, all the best in 2003.
Love, Peace, Prosperity and Blessings
* Okay, so my frenglish is tres excreable, sue moi.
Well, here we are, December 21st, the winter solstice when the weather turns cold and we can expect snow. That would be COLDER and MORE SNOW in my case.
It's snowing sideways at the moment and the temp is hovering around 19 degrees. The forecast through tuesday calls for 14-27 inches of snow, depending upon how much you've pissed GOD off by being non-KKKristian. I think I'm gonna get buried.
The news on the economic front continues to get worse. I'm almost thankful that I am not, statistically, unemployed. I'm less thankful that I am, not statistically but literally, not generating any income. Getting a job would be a good idea if there were any to get. The state of NY, just like every other state, is looking for ways to save money and increase revenues so they will be cutting school budgets and raising fees for all sorts of things. I think that the net effect of such measures is counter productive but they're not asking for my input at the Governor's office.
Bush is just as clueless on the economy as he has been on the war and everything else. And yet, there are still people that think he will be remembered as a good president. That's not just a "Jones" that's a "Jonesville Jones".
Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to go get my winter coat out of the traps.
I have been busy trying to stuff newspapers in those cracks that were still letting in Ol' Man Winter (and were too small for the frozen squirrels that fit the larger openings) and in getting ready for the holidays--I'm working on a special "seasonal gruel" that includes some of those same critters!
However, I have been absent from my duties here at the blog (your good fortune) and a week old bit of news has caught my attention:
Now, I'm not a fan of burning churches (regardless how odious, depending on their beliefs or adherents, I consider them to be) but this particular fire, much like the one in Westboro Baptist Church leader Fred Phelps' garage seems deliciously ironic.
Of course, since it was an arson job (at least it is being investigated as such by the local fire department) speculation abounds as to it's perpetrator(s). While various reichwing websites and blogs are pushing the meme that it was set by militant gays--It takes an army of village people to raze a church?--some other folks have suggested that it might be an act of GOD or maybe an act of Sarah the ImPalinator to extend her 15 minutes of fame.
I don't know about any of that. But this was my comment over at Ed Brayton's "Dispatches from the culture wars" blog (http://scienceblogs.com/dispatches/2008/12/palins_church_burns_blame_the.php):
There are times when the evidence is right there in front of us; to wit, the WSB's weekly schedule:
Friday, December 12, 2008
5:00 PM--Potluck dinner (menu includes, harpseal terrine, narwhal tartare, saddle of airsniped wolf and lime jelloil mold)
6:00 PM--Witch Whackin' Workshop with the Rev. John Muthee
7:00 PM--Speakin' In Tongues Gospel Karaoke
8:30 PM--Joel's Army, Kristian Kadet Korps--an exciting demonstration of the U.S. Army's M2A1-7 flamethrower, bring the s'mores!
Just to be perfectly clear, I don't hate christians, but I sure as hell dislike KKKristians and there are far too many of them using their "religion" as both sword and shield to push their fucked-up, hate filled agendas. They had better hope that the GOD they profess to believe in is a more tolerant deity than they depict him as.
Well, I'm a guy who owns a Ford Ranger. Almost 9 years of relatively trouble free service and I might be inclined to buy another one, if I had any requirement or money for one. Until today.
That's when I got the following e-mail:
I appologize for this email. I don't normally email the members but this is an emergency.
Today, (December 9, 2008) I received a letter from the law offices of Howard, Phillips & Andersen that represent the Ford Motor Company. Ford is forcing us to surrender the name 'therangerstation.com' to them and stop using it. Ford states that using the name 'Ranger' when used in reference to the Ford Ranger is a trademark violation. In addition they are wanting me to pay them $5,000.
As you may know, The Ranger Station has been around for the past 10 years and has been a valuable resource to Ranger enthusiasts.
If Ford does this to us, where will they stop?
I have 10-days to surrender the name and pay them $5,000. I'm asking that you contact Ford online and ask them to reconsider making us change our name and prohibiting us from using the word 'Ranger'.
You can contact them at:
a sample of what one of the members wrote is:
"To whom it may concern:
I am writing concerning your recent legal attacks on various "fan" websites for vehicles such as the Mustang and Ranger. I am insulted by this careless misuse of our legal system and am reconsidering any further vehicle purchases from your company until you cease and desist from any further legal action concerning this subject. I have been a Ford owner for many years and I had hoped to stay that way. These attacks are morally wrong since they are geared towards your customers, and do not instill the least bit of confidence in your brand. For the sake of your business, I ask you to please reconsider immediately.
Thank you for your support and I applogize for this email.
Jesus on a pogo stick aerating a golf course--is FoMoCo completely fucking clueless or what?
a couplea couplets for the suits at FoMoCo.
Brains of sawdust, ears of tin;
Stupid is your major sin.
hearts of stone and balls of brass.
Mullaly, you can kiss my ass.
Check this out, over at Jim Voorhies blog.
What a buncha fukin' idiots.
Feel free to send any or all of this to your new, improved congressional delegations.
UPDATE @ 7:43 P.M. 12/11/08
Jim at TheRangerStation informed me that he and Ford had reached an accomodation and asked that I put that information out here. Done. I hope he's through having ot screw around with those guys.
Now if we could just have an effect on those assholes @ Sony and RIAA.
Yep; it's about that cold. It's not the cold so much as the wind and the "wintry mix" as they like to call it--snow, sleet, hail, drizzle, freezing rain, locusts, frogs, wombats and some other nasty critters from the Sargasso Sea--okay, I was kidding about the drizzle.
Winter is getting an early start here in Oswego. We've had snow about four or five days in a row, now. With the sub-freezing (near zero overnight) temps of the last several days it's been nasty. I've still got part of the house that has no membrane over the sheathing--old, drafty, plank sheathing--and it's right on the wall of my bedroom. That would have been taken care of by now, but I've been unable to do a lot of physical stuff that I used to breeze through. That'll teach me to live a dissolute life while young!
Fair warning, I'm working on my Earlywinter Feast Letter. Those of you to whom I haven't sent one in the past? well, your luck has run out.
Good Morning, Class:
democommie is exceedingly pissed off at the moment, at AOL. I used their "free" intro period once, about a year and a half ago. I found out that it sucked and immediately discontinued it. Six months later I found out they were extracting money from my credit card account every month. I complained. Their response boiled down to "too fucking bad". No refund, a letter saying that, at my request they had closed the account. Now, admittedly, I'm sometimes not as diligent as I need to be, but here it is a year later and I find out they're still hitting me up for the monthly fee. Of course the letter they sent me is filed, somewhere in the storage unit, I hope.
I called my credit card company and they said, "Well, we can cancel your card and issue you a new one, which you will receive in 7-10 business days." WTF? It used to be that if you lost a card or had it stolen they would have you a new one in 36 hours or less. So, my choices are to a.) dispute the bill every month or b.) take a chance on not having that credit card to use for two to three weeks (7-10 business days).
The telecoms and internet providers, imo, are nothing but a bunch of fucking thieves (I'm talking about management, not the poor schlubs that have to work for the bastards). I currently use my fomer employer's services (they suck too). I was told, when I signed up for the service that the basic, basic, basic phone and DSL internet package would be $24.99 a month. Well, with the "taxes" and various add on fees, it's actually about $43. I was just looking at doing something different when this contract expires. TW wants something like $75/month and on Windstream's site it is practically impossible to figure out pricing. Is it just me or does something like $500-1000/annum seem like an awful lot of fucking money for phone and internet?
Forget cable, it's through the roof. There is some talk that congress is going to look into cable pricing. I'll not hold my breath for that one.
WTF is Ernestine (Lily Tomlin) when you need her?
I went to a "Hunter's Dinner" on saturday night.
It was seven courses, as follows:
Pan seared Grouper with curry sauce salsify and Jerusalem artichokes.
Sauteed frogs' legs with oyster mushrooms.
Smoked Pheasant salad with arugula and melon radish; lingonberry vinaigrette.
Ragu of Rabbit.
Grilled Wild Boar Sausage with onion and fennel confit.
Bison rib-eye with Enoki mushroom; poivrade sauce.
Elk stew and celery root slaw.
Each course was served with a different wine; four whites, three reds. It was a tasting menu, basically; and a good thing, it was still a lot of food.
I tried to do like my friend Claudia over at "cook, eat, Fret" (http://www.cookeatfret.com) and take photos of all of the dishes; I failed miserably--well, not really miserably, I was quite happy to be derelict in that regard. I do have a few photos, they are in bass/ackwards order. The puff pastry encloses Elk Stew. The second photo is Ragu of Rabbit. The third is Smoked Pheasant Salad and the last is WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY better than chicken.
This evenings dinner was simpler fare. I made a nice stew with some top round, onions, carrots, celery, garlic (lots of garlic), diced tomato, some more garlic, black beans, corn, peas and acorn squash. Had that with some delicious Two Buck Chuck Chardonnay and the dinner movie is "Eat, Drink, Man, Woman". Now if only I had someone to rub my temples, peel me some grapes and give me an epidural cortisone shot for my sciatica I would be ever so happiery. Still, life's been good to me, so far.
Now that I've binged and purged in honor of being thankful, I'm off to do some shopping. There are some special deals on appliances and I need to buy some stuff I can't afford. I will be most interested in watching the folks who are buying shit they don't need, probably don't really want (somebody told them they should have it or give it) and usually can't afford. Things like a second bidet for the double wide; or granite countertops. I think when I get my house finished ("when" sounds so much more "positive" than "if") I will have amassed a lot of stuff at clearance prices--no other way I could do this.
Well, the sciatica is still beating me up, so I gotta be off and away while I can still motivate. I'll be glad when I feel well enough to be my usual, vituperative self.
I had some nasty sciatica once. It went away for about 3 years--it's baaaaaaaaack!
I think that perhaps driving nearly 2,000 miles last week did not improve the situation but that was my choice--to spend time with peeps I like.
I gotta go to the gym and see if I can "spin" some of this out on the recumbent bike.
I got back here in Oswego and found about a foot of snow in my yard--and a nice "plow sundae" in my driveway. Moving that mess may have been contributory to my back pain as well. I think a snowthrower is on today's shopping list.
I was sitting in my 44 degree bedroom yesterday, sending a rant to someone, when I noticed that there was tapping going on that was not a.) my fingies on the keyboard or b.) my castanet teeth. I went over and tapped on the freshly rocked wall and was rewarded with the sound a skwerl makes when he's feeling threatened (I've heard it a bunch of times now and, yes, they were right to feel threatened). I whanged on the wall with a piece of 3/4" plywood (so's I wouldn't screw up the shitrock) and cousin treerat vacated the premises. When I went outside a few hours later I saw the spot he had found to gain access; a never completed bit of siding by the previous owner. Of course it was 12-16 or so feet off the ground on a gable rake. So, after shoveling not one, but two, small roofs I got out my tools and started removing the builder's felt (tarpaper) to see what I needed to do and guess what--the bastard was home! I rousted him again and then put 16" x 30" 28ga sheet metal panels all the way up the rake to cover the gaps (no more than an inch or two, but those ratbastards are supreme opportunists). If he comes back he's gonna need goggles and a cutting torch. A friend I was chatting with last evening said that she was told by an environmental police officer (they have the death penalty for littering here!) that killing the squirrels will never solve the problem as they just keep making more and expand into the vacant territory--he sounds like a goddamned treeratofascist to me, I wonder if HE can see Russia from HIS house.
I think I may have to start putting non-progress reports on the house in here, as well as photos--seeing as everything is hunky dory now that we have a sane president in the wings. Then again, I was just over at Ed Brayton's "Dispatches From The Culture Wars" on this thread:
Maybe it's not over even WHEN the fat lady sings or the "Rapchure" get's called on account of demand side lesberalism. Google "democommie" and follow the fun. There's over 330 comments and at least half of them are batshit crazy fundies and reichtards (is that a redundancy or cies)
Another day, another poem or two.
The following two pieces were written about the same time and I used to like having people read them back to back and watch their faces as they finished the "nice" one and then the "sick" one (their general take on the first and second, in that order).
That moment when you touched him;
I knew he was not your man.
The touch was soft, yet, not tender
nor, did it linger,
for another moment's warmth.
It was a simple courtesy, perhaps even a kindness.
It was not the touch of a lover;
not the touch of a true friend.
It was a gesture of grace,
a moment of thoughtfulness, one human aware of another.
"Excuse me, please." not, "Hey, you!"
This morning, like most, was a welter of confusion in the moment that I woke.
Then, I sorted out the imagined and the factual.
I realized I was alone, in the sense of not having you next to me.
I realized my adventure had been milliseconds of REM.
I realized I was still sleeping underground, a vampire in the cellar apartment.
A vampire who had chosen unemployment over the bad job.
You said I was sucking the life out of you with my nihilism, negativism and cynicism.
I have to admit that I was being pessimistic, a response I thought extremely logical, given the state of the world and our relationship.
I took the coffin of my self-hatred and went underground.
I hunger for the warmth and sustenance of living in someone else's soul;
I do not act on my hunger.
I sit here, unemployed, looking through the employment ads that call themselves, "Personals"
I read about a lot of rosy prospects, no mention of the work involved.
I read about the rewards that will come from blindly answering an ad with a letter that has a code instead of a signature.
They ask for a picture.
I can't send one--they would see the fangs
Bear in mind, these were written when I had been living alone--and not dating--for about 6-1/2 years. I'm not sure if I owe my sanity to my celibacy but there are several lucky women out there who probably owe THEIR sanity to it.
I got back from a week of visiting friends on the MA and NH seacoast and found a foot or so of wet heavy snow in my yard. Too.damned.early.for.this.shit.
Oh, well. I had a a good time sleeping around and yakkin' with pals. I would have liked to visit some folks I keep meaning to spend time with, but there were certain things over which I had little or no control.
I need to return a rental car, pick up insulation and get back to work. So, all you're getting now is this poem:
When I was young I was so hungry, I had such a great hole in my soul.
I gorged myself on hatred and self-loathing,
feeding on the rage until my heart was as bloated and hard as a blood filled tick.
I became so ill. I nearly died.
People in my life tried to give me love, but there could never be enough, because I didn't know what "enough" felt like.
It tasted so good, love did, that I wanted to take everyone's away;
not leaving them any, I was so greedy.
Too nice, too rich, too much.
So I went on the "I don't need anybody" diet.
It works pretty well, most of the time.
I just keep telling myself that my hunger for love will pass;
that loneliness is bearable, that the pangs of longing will fade, that I'm better off alone.
Then I see you, we speak, I learn your name;
I learn to expect your welcoming smile.
It's like that old potato chip commercial
one is not enough, I want them all
I remember how good it felt to be a part of someone's life.
I forget the sense of loss that came with partings.
I feel like singing for my supper but, if I open my mouth,
it will be to scream out my need.
I must remember that hunger is not starvation;
that satisfaction has more to do with restraint,
less to do with gluttony.
I want to taste the sweet, bitter, salty, sour, crunchy, soft and chewy that life offers.
I want to know the difference between enough and too much.
I'm sitting in an internet cafe in Newburyport, MA; buying some bad coffee to get free web access.
As is the usual case when I come to visit it is hard to try to connect with all of the folks I want to see--I consider a .250 average to be very good.
I read something the other day that spoke about relationships. I'm paraphrasing here, but the essence of the piece was that there are two sorts of friends--those who need constant affirmation of their status in word or deed; and those who figure a friend is a friend. I fall into the latter category. I have picked up where I left off with people after incredibly long layoffs (in one case almost twenty years).
It's not my reason for being here, but I was asked to answer some interrogatories in a friends divorce proceedings. When I had finshed printing them out I had to get them notarized and the two of us walked to a nearby attorney's office to have that done. The nice lady who applied her seal and asked for my license to make sure I was me, finished the paperwork and said "you're welcome" to our "Thank you"'s. I then said "(her name); you don't remember me do you?" She looked at me and said, "No.", but she knew that she should. I laughed. She said, "NOW, I remember you!". She used to bartend for a friend of mine and I think it really took her back to see me after something like 7-8 years.
I like my life and I like to be able to move around to see the people I love and care about. In fact, I'm sitting in front of YOUR house, right now.
I pulled these from an online "Bill of Rights" website.
Article the third [Amendment I]
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
This says that we can say what we want to say to and about others. It does not say that we cannot be held responsible if our utterances are the proximate cause of a crime against a person or the state or if such utterance is a crime against sundry local, state or federal statues (libel, slander, assault--for instance) in an of itself.
Article the fourth [Amendment II]
A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.
This says that we can all have guns (at least in the minds of the current SCotUS re: Washington D.C.'s ban on ownership of handguns in the District). Whether it means everybody in the country can have guns is not settled law yet.
Our political opposites (and, in many cases, social and intellectual opposites--hint: smart and friendly, they're not) like to think that the 1st and 2nd Amendments are their exclusive birthright.
They would have us think that, in light of their superior patriotism and obvious moral righteousness that they may decide who has the right to free-speech. In their minds that right is not universal; it is reserved for them and their fellows.
They would likewise have us believe that they have an unfettered right to keep and bear arms, regardless their lethality or utility. When I have commented on other blogs that they might want to think about what that means in terms of the people they are so afraid of having the same rights they are silent or, more typically, abusive and dismissive.
I often wonder at the apparent dichotomy of the pick-ups and other vehicles I see with bumper stickers that espouse anti-abortion views; the notion that GOD is actually driving/navigating the vehicle(it's often unclear which--although I don't believe GOD gets pulled over for DWI); that JESUS loves the occupant and it's reciprocal AND that GUNS are fun, necessary and BY GOD the vehicle occupant's until death do them part. I am pretty much an atheist these days, but I did spend 13 years in parochial school getting the lessons of Catholicism poured over me like the saving waters and I don't remember JESUS or GOD being Life (+eternity) NRA members.
As is obvious from yesterday's post and the comments in the thread I have new readers. People like Serr8ball, who see themselves as the arbiters and guardians of MurKKKa do have those first and second amendment rights. They would do well to remember that WE ALL DO. I could simply ban the idiots but it is interesting, in the way that viewing a surgery on cable is interesting, to learn what they think. I've been invited, numerous times to various reichwing blogs. WTF? That's not an invitation any sane person who disagrees with such people would be interested in accepting--especially given comments to the effect that one would be assaulted at said sites.
No, I think I'll stay here in my little blogtopia with my make-believe friends--at least they're sane and decent folks.
Thus endeth today's rant.
You know, it seems like just yesterday I was lamenting the fact that I have very little charity in my heart for the unrepentant asshats that, now they have lost the election, want to make hating america a KKKristian virtue. Oh, wait, it was just yesterday.
So, it seems that John McCain, fresh from his disastrous presidential campaign wants to go help Saxby Chambliss get re-elected in the runoff election down in Jawjuh on December 2 (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/don-mcnay/max-clelands-chance-for-r_b_142365.html).
I was all for poking him and likeminded shitheads with a sharp stick anyway, but now it appears that I would be justified in doing so. He is, he really is a p.o.s. of breathtaking stupdidity. I wonder if he and George The Worst have some sort of side bet going for who can lose the most stature in the shortest amount of time. I know Bushkins has an awesome early lead, but McCain is rapidly closing the gap.
Oh, boy! I've just gotten my first real knuckledragger troll, Serr8d, whose blognomen is obviously sharper than his wit. It will be interesting to see how much bile he can spew. For those who remember Nashville is talking or MCB blogs, Serr8d and a few of his gang from Sickmeat buffet were startrolls over there. They all have their own blogs but they love to pollute others when they're not busy shitting into their own feed troughs. It will probably be getting nasty here, soon. Oh, dear!
Here it is, the beginning of the first full week of the brand new era (let's hope it's at least as long as the "Permanent Republican Majority") of the sovietization of America. Well, no, it's not, really; but, that is the way the reichwing blogospewers are protraying it.
President-elect Obama (as differentiated from Pretendsident-SELECT or Pretendsident-RIGGED Bushkins) has been given, in the words of a blogger elsewhere, "a -77 days 'honeymoon'". He is being vilified at least as viciously and loudly as Bill Clinton was from the day he won his first term.
There is a call to join hands with the opposition and work together to pull this country out of the Bushcomire that it was driven into. This is all well and good. We should welcome, allow and encourage those genuine conservatives who want a stronger, safer, healthier and fairer america into the fold, so to speak. For those, however, who are filled with hatred and misdirected rage we need to exercise vigilance and remain ready to refute their lies.
James Dobson, Bill O'Reilly, Sean Hannity, Ann Coulter and the rest of that sick, twisted legion of perverts need to be shouted down at every opportunity. I have a new golden rule: Don't make nice with idiotic, hatefilled assholes.
Keep your hearts, eyes and ears wide open.
This will be like the "Rachel Ray" post; quickly prepared, nutrilicious truthiness in under 5 minutes.
Obama got elected. Now we have to lay into OUR side to force them to do what's right for this nation, not their own interests.
We need to make it safe for women, gays, people of color and those who differ (even with those of who are self-aware and awesomely enlightened) to speak, love, live and strive in ALL of our nation's cities and towns. We must cease to pretend that it's okay for some areas of this country to be run as if they were not subject to the same constitution as the rest of us. AND we must figure out a way for the GOD bothers to have their eucharist--and eat it,too--without imposing their beliefs on the rest of us.
I'm done for today. I gotta get to work--and so do YOU!
Violins con dios!
S'okay, it was done, but then I decided to inflict a poem on you. I wrote it in 2004 and it's ostensibly about two people, but it's really about all of us.
The Half-life of Intolerance
The half-life of intolerance is a phenomenon of relationships.
That which was a ripple on the fabric of love,
Becomes the garment that chafes our hearts.
What has been irritating becomes unbearable.
It is not the thorn in our side;
The burr under our saddle;
The stone in our shoe.
It is our fear;
Of becoming irrelevant,
Of becoming peripheral where we were epicentric.
It is the fear of being once again, and forever, alone.
Drowned in a desert;
Starving in the midst of bounty;
Dying of thirst in a river of your love.
The more I dwell on this the farther I move from my center.
I feel as if I’m the only one who is lost or hurt.
Then I see the sadness in your smile.
I hear the pain cracking the melody of your brave voice.
I realize then that we are both afraid.
I realize that it is, perhaps, why we are together in this place, now.
We are meant to add the strength of two often enough to become one.
We didn't just get a new president last night.
Perhaps that Jackie Deshannon hit ("Put A Little Love In Your Heart") can be revamped.
Think of your fellow man
Lend him a helping hand
Put a little HOPE in your heart
You see it's getting late
Oh, please don't hesitate
Put a little HOPE in your heart
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see
Another day goes by
And still the children cry
Put a little HOPE in your heart
If you want the world to know
We won't let hatred grow
Put a little HOPE in your heart
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see, wait and see
Take a good look around
And if you're lookin' down
Put a little HOPE in your heart
And I hope when you decide
Kindness will be your guide
Put a little HOPE in your heart
And the world will be a better place
And the world will be a better place
For you and me
You just wait and see
Put a little HOPE in your heart
Each and every day
Put a little HOPE in your heart
There's got to be a better way
Put a little hope in your heart
Don't you think it's time we start
Put a little HOPE in your heart
I know, it seems redundant but I want to make sure you vote at least once!
Good morning, my preciouses:
I went to a concert last evening and heard David Roth
sing wonderful songs that were, by turns, silly and sublime. Gentle, kind hearted and uplifting music, performed by someone who cares, deeply, about the world that he inhabits and all of those in it, even those with whom he disagrees.
His politics were no mystery to me; but, he never really mentioned them until just about the end of his set. When he did, it was not about red/blue; it was about me and you.
I don't have that much equanimity and magnanimity in my heart, just now (if, in fact, I ever had) but I am grateful that someone like David exists to do the things that I am just unable to do in that regard.
In three days we will know, hopefully, who our next president will be. Barring massive voting "irregularities" it appears that the winnners will be the Obama/Biden ticket and a largish chunk of the electorate. The GOP for whatever their reasons might be (they are opaque to me) have tried, since 1980--at least--to change this nation into something that is nearly unrecognizable to those of us who actually read and believe the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution.
It's past time for a change, it's time for a paradigm shift.
Let's keep our hearts and eyes open and our fingers crossed.
Check this out:
Okay, so it's cold out this week.
I took this opportunity to make stew:
"Ragoút au Réfrigérateur avec trois saussice"
(Three sausage refrigerator stew)
Heat 3 tbsp of oil in a 5qt dutch oven.
Saute, briefly 2 Tbsp Italian seasoning (store bought or your own mix), briefly, to help release flavors into oil.
2 oz thinly sliced pepperoni
4 oz grilled "hot" italian sausage
8 oz "hot" chorizo
After sausuage is browned (3-4 minutes at moderate heat)
1 huge or several smaller onions
2 Tbsp of minced garlic (unless you like more--there is no "less" button)
1 10-12 oz package of button mushrooms
1/2 oz sundried tomatoes (whole or hacked, up to you)
2 ribs of celery--roughly chopped
4 normal sized carrots--roughly chopped
Continue sauteeing until mushrooms have gotten floppy and you want to start picking them out and eating them all by themselves.
1/4 C Dry Marsala
3/4 C decent or better beer (retain leftover beer for chef)
heat for a minute or two, stirring ocassionally, to avoid that raw alcohol taste we all hate in our food.
1-1/2 to 2 qts or broth or water
A healthy splash of EVOO
2 bay leaves
fresh ground black pepper & salt (if you really think it needs salt, with all that sausage in there)
Simmer for as long as you like (at least an hour)
1 can black beans, bring back to simmer.
adjust seasoning and serve.
I think I need to go have breakfast, now.
Next time I'll save the skwirruls!
It's 37 degrees outside. It's 48 degrees inside. This is what happens when a bad knee slows down the renovation process. This project is taking longer than I would like it to for a number of reasons, but the knee is definitely an impediment.
Oddly enough, I view this situation with considerably more aplomb than I do a lot of other challenges in my life. I also find that it makes me much more aware of the plight of the homeless and others who have somehow not made the $250K necessary to gain entry into the McMiddleclass. I mean I'm sitting here eating my Generi-O's with a banana and some raisins and drinking a nice hot cup of coffee, my jeans are heating up on the portable radiator and I'm waiting for 8:00 AM to roll around so that I can start making noise. I'm not toastee, but I'm okay. I have a full belly (well, maybe a bit more than that) pretty decent health (no insurance, though), relatively acute mental faculties and a shrinking but still visible cash cushion.
On the one hand:
I am not wearing $300K's worth of nomination duds or even $150K's worth of campaign couture; flying around on an executive jet; being courted by the movers and shakers of american business and religiopolitics or lionized/demcnized by the various news and fauxnews organizations.
I am not sleeping under a bridge; driving a busted down shopping cart; being rousted from a heating grate by the cops; being vilified/pitied by the various news and fauxnews organizations or being used as an object lesson/cautionary tale for the young and impressionable. Okay--I'm not so sure about that last one. But, hey, I'm a big boy, I'm doing what I said I wanted to do these last many years. As usual, per my brilliance, I have elected to walk the highwire, blindfolded, on crutches while someone shakes the pylons. But I CHOSE this. Many of the poor, the uninsured sick, and those yearning to breathe free (I'm speaking about non-violent offenders in overcrowded prisons,here) did not choose to be born into their situations and "fail" in life anymore than a gay person chooses to be gay; It just happened. So for that we should hate and fear them? Apparently so, if you're a reptilican.
I am sick and disgusted to hear the GOP's candidates campaigning, as usual, with the only two tools which they seem to know how to use--fear and hate. I guess they are limited in their selection of tools by the fact that they have no coherent policy for changing the downward direction of the economy or the nearly eight year long train wreck of Bushco policy, both foreign and domestic. They hate "the other", they hate science (except that related to fast food and weaponry), they hate non-KKKristians and, it appears, they hate black americans with the temerity to run for the highest office in the land.
Fuck them. Fuck their attitudes, their platitudes and their false "GODLY" gratitude. If Jesus were to suddenly show up at a mPALINccain rally and start preaching his gospel of love and forgiveness he would be evicted, arrested, beaten or worse. The GOP has been reduced, by it's association with the religionationalists to a shrill, keening shell of the party that once had room for Rockefeller, Goldwater, Eisenhower and a host of other men/women who actually cared about their nation and its people and not just fulfillment of their own delusional dreams of conquest and rapture.
GOP, God's Own Phobics.
Having finished the champagne and twinkies I am back to my usual churlish form.
Some strange things are occurring the last few days. Game 5 of the WSoMLB (I think it looks cool that way, like SCotUS) was suspended because of inclement weather, rain. I think we are getting that rain in Oswego today. It's coming in sideways.
Police in Arakansas arrested a pair of neo-nazi shitheads who were "planning" on beheading 14 african-americans and shooting 88 more. It was reported that these numbers mean something special to the white supremacy movement. A police spokesman said that the plan was not very far advanced or sophisticated. I'm still waiting for the reichwing to start blaming the liberals for this--I'm sure it won't be long.
John McCain is trumpeting his abilities as a seer. He says the pundits are gonna get egg all over their faces when he and the McHuntress win the election.
Two of the three of these I sorta understand--but that last one, wtf? Is McDivotface smokin' the same cigarettes as me? The "centrists" (so called) of the GOP are jumping ship in droves. It appears that the ImPalinator is bringing the Whackomoms (and dads) out in large numbers--and shooing the independents in much larger numbers. I honestly can't see how McCain could win at this point, but then again I didn't see how Bush could get one term, never mind two, in the WH.
You all really need to impress upon your family and friends that nothing can be taken for granted. Every vote DOES count.
I spent most of Sunday going up and down the ladder to plug holes in fascia that the squirrels were using to gain access. I caught one inside and trapped him out this morning (walnut oil and peanute butter is great bait). He is now communing with his seven squirrel brethren who preceded him in death. I hate squirrels, unless they are WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY out in the woods. I gotta get back to work.
On this day in history:
1147 The Seljuk Turks defeat German crusaders under Conrad III at the Battle of Dorylaeum.
1936 Adolf Hitler and Benito Mussolini create the Rome-Berlin Axis.
1938 The Archbishop of Dubuque, Francis J. L. Beckman, denounces Swing music as "a degenerated musical system... turned loose to gnaw away at the moral fiber of young people", warning that it leads down a "primrose path to hell".
1944 Heinrich Himmler orders a crackdown on the Edelweiss Pirates, a loosely organized youth culture in Nazi Germany that had assisted army deserters and others to hide from the Third Reich.
1949 A major rent is torn in the fabric of spacetime or timespace (scientists are unsure of which) by the squalling of a red-faced infant democommie.
1962 Cuban missile crisis: Adlai Stevenson shows photos at the UN proving Soviet missiles are installed in Cuba.
1972 The Washington Post reports that White House Chief of Staff H.R. Haldeman was the fifth person to control a secret cash fund designed to finance illegal political sabotage and espionage during the 1972 presidential election campaign (see also Watergate scandal).
Born on this day, in no particular order:
Klaus Barbie (The Butcher of Lyon), James Carville (political strategerist--Bill Clinton's Rove), Father Charles Coughlin (Roman Catholic priest and pro-Fascist radio broadcaster--Bill O'Reilly in a cassock), Bobby Knight (winningest coach in D1-NCAA Men's Basketball--Bill O'Reilly in polyester slacks and a sweat shirt), Ed Powers (porn star with a number of "rough" sex videos), Richard F. Syron (CEO of Freddie Mac--not no more!)
Good managers, all!
The following subversives were born on the same day.
Max Stimer (Existential German nihilo-anarchist), Minnie Pearl (Cheap hat, great comic), Nancy Cartwrigth (the voice of Bart Simpson), Johann Strauss (composer, "Blue Danube" waltz), Bobby Thompson (1951 home run brought Giants to the Series), Richard Byrd (American explorer), Billy Barty--nee William John Bertanzetti
(small person, american actor), Milena Roucka(Canadian former model current professional wrestler of Czech and Costa Rican descent), Pedro Martinez (Dominican Major League Baseball player, former BoSox).
Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Martyr Patricio Clito Ruíz y Picasso (October 25, 1881 – April 8, 1973) was an Andalusian-Spanish painter, draughtsman, and sculptor. As one of the most recognized figures in twentieth-century art, he is best known for co-founding the Cubist movement and for the wide variety of styles embodied in his work. Among his most famous works are the proto-Cubist Les Demoiselles d'Avignon (1907) and his depiction of the German bombing of Guernica during the Spanish Civil War, Guernica (1937).
And, of course, ME, YOURS TRULY; FUCKIN AY!
I am happy to report that I'm typing this, which is a good thing. It means my arthritic fingers and my semi-nimble mind are still working, sort of.
Unfortunately, I must also report that my character was formed more by those aforementioned subversives than by the true patriots and all around ubermenschen whose births I noted in the preceding paragraph. I will, somehow, live with it.
In lieu of cards, flowers, candy, gift certificates, offers of whatever sort of sexual escapades you may be interested in--please simply send a small donation (a single Benjamin will do) to the address I will furnish to all who e-mail me. Your donations will help to defray the expense of my upcoming "OBAMAWINS,OBAMAWINS" party or, in the event that the GOP is able to engineer another electatheft, for funding my escape to Oz to live with a group of aboriginals who have maintained their culture (but DO think that cold beer is one white devil convenience that they can live with). I will be listening to jazz, by Matt Vacanti and ESP, this evening at Patz on the River in Oswego. If you're all going to come, I would suggest reservations. Tell them I sent you and maybe they'll give me a free drink or something.
You know what I love, even more than my country? I love my friends--and that's really about all I need for my , your friendship. Well your friendship and some nice Dom, a couplea lobstahs, a few nice buds, the company of a winsome young lady (or one who thinks that way) and breakfast at Tiffany's.
Ciao, for now.
Good morning, all you beautiful people:
Jim Voorhies (http://jimvoorhies.com/index.php) posed an interesting thought over at his place.
Who should we vote for, bearing in mind that the recession we haven't been in for the last year or so, will be found hidden in Nancy Pelosi's hard drive on 1/22/09? No, those were not Jim's exact words--I'm not sure if they're mine either--read his piece.
Anyhoo, I think it makes a difference who we vote for(subliminal message:OBAMAOBAMAOBAMA) because of the following reasons (among others):
A.) Getting our foreign policy and military readiness situation in order.
B.) Watching the genuine conservatives (yes, the do exist) tell the talibanigelicals to have a huge helping of STFU hot dish.
C.) SCotUS, SCotUS, SCotUS.
Besides if Obama gets elected we might wind up eating dog food. If McStain gets the job, we might wind up eating the dog.
I, democommie, your "Dear Ranter" have decided to put a couple of comments that I made on two other blogs up instead of doing my usual exhaustive investigational reporterage BEFORE I write nasty shit about scumbags and scumbaguettes.
This comment is from here:
http://scienceblogs.com/dispatches/2008/10/candidate_comedy.php#commentsArea (Ed Brayton's "Dispatches from the culture wars")
"I think he doesn't think things through very deeply, and he's fairly stupid, but ultimately I don't think he's an evil man. Which is why I think he goes into the type of stupid crap he does (Ayers, Palin, etc.), but at the end of the day he does see the results and he doesn't like it."
That assessment + the "football"= Vote for Obama.
All pols are actors, plain and simple. They have to be able to turn it on and off like a lightbulb. That is not to say they don't have genuine emotions, or that they are not subject to exposing them in embarassing ways. McCain has had hundreds, if not thousands of interviews and he's done the speaking/lecture circuit for years. I think what makes McCain show so badly (in terms of facial tics, grimaces, etc.,) during the debates and in unscripted moments is that he's playing to an audience that isn't conditioned, as is the MSM--until very recently--to simply accept the notion that he is a decent and honourable man.
Is McCain "Evil"? I suppose that depends on how it's defined. Is McCain Stupid, vainglorious, self-aggrandizing and venal? now, THAT'S a softball question.
So, an evil clone of a much beloved U.S. (POWARHERO) Senator and an evil, neo-cryptic HUSSEINOFASCIST walk into a bar.
This comment is from the "Palin to appear on SNL" thread here:
http://loosetncanon.blogspot.com/ (William is a very smart, very musical guy)
Hey, I thought you wuz gonna lay off putting your filthy commie lies on the internets tubz until after the "selection". Now that "anonytroll" that got re-assigned to put stupid comments on somebody else's blog is gonna have to get re-re-deployed to come back over her and spout nonsense.
Do they use teleprompters on SNL? Is Campaign mPALINccain so comfy with their lead that they think they can afford to have Sarah work with comedy writers instead of Senator Lieberman (Pariah--CT) and the Rovebots?
I admit these are not very serious questions, or I will, just as soon as John McCain says that picking the McHuntress as a running mate was a joke.
I highly recommend both of the blogs I mentioned (not so highly that I think you should, like, go there, instead of coming here, capeeesh?). Fair warning, I sometimes say things--on other people's blogs, never my own--that might be considered rude, offensive or just plain fucking nuts. S'okay, somebody has to be willing to be the voice of the lone loon on a pond full of mallards (yes, I know; the simile is meaningless but you get the idea).
Good Morning, all:
I have been busy with trying to make my house less porous and more livable, so I haven't been able to spend the time thinking about making my thoughtless comments here.
I lifted this, with permission, from "God Is For Suckers" blog. It was put up there by Eve.
OK, I confess, I just thought this was funny - though not to the Mavericks, it seems…
[snippet] “I’m just enraged that McCain calls himself a maverick,” said Terrellita Maverick, 82, a San Antonio native who proudly carries the name of a family that has been known for its progressive politics since the 1600s, when an early ancestor in Boston got into trouble with the law over his agitation for the rights [my emphasis] of indentured servants [but conversely was one of the first owners of black slaves in the colonies].
It appears that Ms. Maverick’s ancestor Samuel Augustus Maverick (in pic), a Texas cattleman who among other acts signed the Texas Declaration of Independence, had a habit of not branding his livestock, which led to unbranded cattle being called “Maverick’s” and later “mavericks.” The term then became applied to people who also stand out from the herd, so to speak: “refuse to abide by the dictates of or resist adherence to a group; dissenter[s]; [are] independent in thought and action or exhibit such independence” (The Free Dictionary).
The Maverick family didn’t just inherit this legacy, but have continued to illustrate it as well. Ol’ Sam’s grandson Fontaine Maury Maverick, who won both a Silver Star and Purple Heart in World War I, got himself labelled a “Communist” by conservatives, costing him his re-election bid for San Antonio mayor. He went on to serve the Roosevelt Administration in the Smaller War Plants Corporation and coined a term of his own, “gobbledygook;” we use it nowadays mostly as a synonym for any gibberish, but Maury Sr. was referring to the dense bureaucratic language that so infuriated him.
His son Maury Jr., a World War II veteran (Marines), kept up the family tradition as a civil libertarian, lawyer, Texas legislator, and columnist who defended those “scorned by society,” like atheists and draft resisters, with a famed passion. His last piece (I’m still looking for it), published post-mortem by The San Antonio Express-News, strongly spoke out against the impending Iraqi invasion. And his sister Terrellita herself is no slouch, either; she’s a member emeritus of the board of the San Antonio chapter of the ACLU.
[snippet] “It’s just incredible — the nerve! — to suggest that he’s not part of that Republican herd. Every time we hear it, all my children and I and all my family shrink a little and say, ‘Oh, my God, he said it again.’ ”
“He’s a Republican,” she said. “He’s branded.”
I think that Ms. Maverick has a lot more on the ball than the Paris Hilton's "old white-haired dude."
Re: The "debate" of last evening (Thank GOD, that fucking travsty is over with!!).
In solidarity with Joe The Plumber, I am flying my trou at "half-staff", so to speak. For, when "plumbers' cleavage is outlawed, only outlaws will have "plumbers' cleavage."
Well, my Red Sox are tanking, the NE Patsies are headed for a losing season, the Celtics--who knows, the Bruins--I'm not sure I care.
The team I'm concerned about is Obama/Biden. Is it just me, or has Joe Biden sort of dropped off the radar? I hear very little about him, even on NPR and don't see his name splashed all over the deadtree press, the colored picture box or the internets tubes.
I suppose that's not necessarily a bad thing. It must mean he's not making a lot of gaffes in his public appearances or interviews. However, it seems that a large part of the lack of coverage on Joe B. has more to do with the fact that he's not JohnnyPOW/Sarah the ImPalinator.
Via Mudflats blog (http://mudflats.wordpress.com) we have more on Troopergate. It appears that the tame personnel board, with whom the governor filed a complaint--against herself--hired an investigator that's a frikkin' democrat, a democrat who contributed to the Arctic Fox's opponent in the last gubernatorial race. Go read it.
Add to that the videos (not CNN or Fox) that are a much more auditorily accurate depiction of the reception that the McHuntress received at the Flyers/Rangers game last weekend and, well, in the current journalistic clime, it begs to written about.
Of course JohnnyPOW is touting his new and improved economic plan (what is this, the 4th in a series?) that will see the Joe Sixpacker's getting screwed while guaranteeing the savings of his "middle class" (over $250K/annum) friends. I wonder if Cindy has ditched the pearls for some Sarah Coventry gewgaws--she can always borrow something from Sarah.
Some of you, dear readers, may ask: "Why does demo pick on poor, poor pitiful Sarah and that POWARHERO all the time--why is demo such a prick?" Well, my friends, because in my own profane, obscene and insultingly low-brow way--I put MY country first. And in my country, I want some leaders, not just a pair of wrongheaded rulers.
If you ever needed a reason to root against the Philadelphia Flyers:
Sarah Palin dropped the puck at the home opener of the Flyers against the NY Rangers
According to the story:
""The NHL said it did not view the Flyers’ invitation to be politically motivated.
“Governor Palin is a supporter of the sport, which she has proclaimed publicly,” NHL deputy commissioner Bill Daly said. “As a public figure who has a very public connection with hockey, her recent associations with the Flyers and other NHL franchises is not surprising and, in our view, not inappropriate.”
There were no apparent signs of protest outside the arena, and one fan held a sign that read “Vote Obama” behind New York’s net. A few other held “Obama-Biden” signs behind her.""
So, a vice-presidential candidate appearing at a venue with say, 15,000 people in it, during a political campaign is NOT political. I'm fairly certain if Obama jogged onto the field for a coin toss between two NFL teams or threw out the first pitch in a MLB game the reichwingers would be on it immediately.
Of course it was nice of the NHL to ask Governor Palin, whom they never heard of until about 40 days ago, to just drop on by.
There was a happy ending; the NY Rangers improved to 4-0. It was probably the Obama supporter behind the NY net, hexxing the Flyers. I'll bet Sarah, the Arctic Fox, wishes she'd brought her witchdoctor doctor with her.
BULLETIN, BULLETIN, BULLETIN:
So, it appears that Sarah Palin, the "Arctic Fox" has approximately the same level of disregard for the law as the current pretendsident.
via mudflats (hat tip to "no blood for hubris"), the Troopergate Investigation Report by Mr. Branchflower (in part).
Finding Number One:
For the reasons explained in section IV of this report, I find that Governor Sarah Palin abused her power by violating Alaska Statute 39.52.110(a) of the Alaska Executive Branch Ethics Act. Alaska Statute 39.52.110(a) provides
“The legislature reaffirms that each public officer holds office as a public trust, and any effort to benefit a personal or financial interest through official action is a violation of that trust.”
Palin was cleared of wrongdoing (probably because so many people refused to testify or perjured themselves for Sweet Jane) in several other areas, but the one she was found guilty of is enough that if she was a democrat there would have been stories all over the networks last evening, for hours. The MSM is carrying the story, but the few pieces I've read so far say that Sarah Palin was only perihperally involved and that it was her husband who really ran the "Get Walt Monegan, bagged, stuffed and mounted" show.
So, okay, suppose we buy that? That means that Sarah Palin is
a.) Unable to determine that her husband is conducting a campaign to get Mr. Wooten, her ex-brother-in-law fired--said campaign being conducted at a table several feet from her own desk in the governor's office.
b.) Aware of and supportive of her husband's machinations.
What is to prevent Sarah Palin's husband, should she become VP from moving his conference table into an office in the Naval Observatory building and going to work on problems of an international nature? Oh, wait, he won't do that. There's no place to practice his skidoodling in D.C. Whew, I had me worried for minute there!
Should I change the name of my blog to the "Sarah Palin Anti-appreciation Pages"?
YahooNews has this headline:
"US government may take ownership stakes in banks"
(read more, here--http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20081009/ap_on_bi_ge/financial_meltdown;_ylt=ApDC0q8Ac4shPo6ZdfrxeEN34T0D)
about the Bushco WH's announcement that the government is looking at taking an "ownership stake" in several banks, in order to calm the financial markets.
Nice, for somebody, I don't think for us, though.
Finally, the prodigal son is going to justify the faith of his father and his father's rapacious friends in the financial sector. The Idiot-in-Chief was bailed out several times, in his various business ventures, by deep-pocketed people who had an interest in his welfare--a selfish one. He has, at long last, returned the favor--in spades! They only gave him some millions, he's done a bit better. He's turned the U.S. Treasury into the personal pinata of WS investors who have already screwed the American public (and foreign investors) out of $T's (that's $x,000,000,000,000's).
Do you remember the Bush rhetoric about an "ownership society"?
"...if you own something, you have a vital stake in the future of our country. The more ownership there is in America, the more vitality there is in America, and the more people have a vital stake in the future of this country. - President George W. Bush, June 17, 2004
We're creating... an ownership society in this country, where more Americans than ever will be able to open up their door where they live and say, welcome to my house, welcome to my piece of property. - President George W. Bush, October 2004."
from here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ownership_society
might refresh your memory.
And this excerpt:
"Woodward says that the US Secretary of State, Colin Powell, was keen to impress upon President George Bush the long-term dangers of invading Iraq. To make his point clear, he invoked what he and his deputy, Richard Armitage, describe as the rule in the Pottery Barn chain of stores: "If you break it, you own it.""
from an article by Richard Glover (http://www.smh.com.au/articles/2004/04/23/1082616326327.html)
might also be illuminative.
It appears that the pretendsident has managed to synergize those two ideas into one.
The economy is badly broken, in fact it's really, really badly broken and now? WE own it. Us, the American people. Unless of course it turns around. If that should happen the government--if the republicans are still in power--will simply hand the reins (and the property) back to the morons who drove the team over the cliff in the first place.
I'm almost happy to have very little money.
will take you to a blog that has a photo of a lovely piece of GOP campaign literature. Masterful artwork combined with polite but firm political rhetoric makes the message clear; "We're not sure if that uppityletist Obama feller is a nigrah or a mooslim (prolly both), but he'll take away our guns and money, make us have our churches marry fags and kill our babies."
It would be bad enough if this reprehensible piece of dreck existed in isolation--it does not.
As of the beginning of this week, Barack Obama became Willie Horton. The rotting, foul-smelling ghost of Lee Atwater is no doubt proud of his legacy of hate.
Karl Rove's new sockpuppet, Sarah Palin, is now being used to spread the message that bHUSSEINobama is a scary BLACKmuslimtraitorMAN. It has been reported that supporters of Palin have been heard shouting "Kill him" at the mention of Obama's name.
Since the GOP has devised no legitimate way to counter the steady, reasonable method in which Obama has conducted his presidential campaign--or, apparently any way to get JohnnyPOW or the ImPalinator to do something similar, it has fallen back on the tried and true option of race baiting.
When you speak to your republican friends, assuming you have some, please direct them to the link that I furnished at the top of the post. They'll either react with revulsion or, if they're rovians, tell you it's just not that bad.
Shame on the GOP for doing things like this (I don't care how much they deny it--they own it) and shame on us if we let them get away with it, again.
I went to a "Cigar Dinner" last evening with some friends. I do not smoke unless I am with one particular friend who smokes good cigars and is a great conversationalist. Going to the dinner was just a way to get together. I smoked one cigar and gave him the rest of my "goodies" bag to enjoy.
What was interesting is that of about 12 people there, there were two, maybe three democrats in the room (I'm an independent). No one there had a high opinion of either McCain or Palin. All said they would not be voting for him. If they were being honest, if they vote for Obama, or just don't vote at all, it would seem to me that Obama just might be able to win in November, in spite of all the shenanigans that the GOP has engaged in to make a "voting machine malfunction" produce their desired result.
While I don't know if the reptilicans could pull off a fraud of such staggering proportions, I have no doubt that Karl Rove, that toxic waste of human flesh, would attempt to do it.
I know it's hoping against hope that Obama, if he is elected, will begin the herculean task of righting what's wrong in so many aspects of the electoral process, but...
Another thing that I got from the folks at the dinner last night; to a person they pretty much despised Sarah Palin. They did not cringe when I told her that I had labelled her a "hooker". The woman is poison, to them.
This is most of a comment that I put up elsewhere, in response to my someone who objected to my comparing Sarah Palin with a "hooker" re: her winking, smiling and mugging for the camera during her recent "debate" with Joe Biden. He wanted to know if I would have been AS insulting, in a sexist way, if McCain had picked a man--obviously he has no idea about the esteem in which I hold that steaming dung heap, JohnnyPOW.
"...you think that's improper? tough shit. If McCain had picked a man as vacuuos, vapid and vainglorious as the ImPalinator you can bet your ass that I would be at least as insulting--and probably not stretching the truth all that much. McCain, by picking Palin, insults the intelligence of every thinking American--if he and his runningdoginlipstick mate can't handle the blowback, too bad. When someone like Sarah Palin uses her femininity as a campaign tool, she opens the door for the criticism that follows.
Sarah Palin is not quite a hooker; she's more like a stripper, acting as if she's going to give you something you want, in exchange for your attention and money. At least you get some sort of relief when you spend time with a prostitute--all I get from watching GOD'S OWN governor do her "Poll dance" is a headache."
He did not bring up Hillary Clinton BUT I will.
Hillary Clinton has been lambasted, since at least 1991 for being, simultaneously, a weak, emotioanally fraught, hysterical shrew AND a cold, calculating, murderous, machiavellian bitch. Hillary is as tough as they get, imo, and can handle her own fights. Sarah Palin is touted, by her handlers and the mindless fucking zombies ( I hope that doesn't seem too harsh) that support her "Americageddon First" politics all go on and on about Sarah Palin.. They say she's as tough as a pitbull. If she's gonna be tough enough to run the country from an undisclosed location when JohnnyPOW infarcts or strokes out, then she'd better develop a skin at least as thick as one of the moose she likes to field dress.
I have gotten more than a bit of criticism, including being called a misogynist, because I have said things about women, like Sarah Palin, that are not "gender neutral". Sorry, if you read me that way, but I am no more anti-woman than I am anti-man. I am anti-asshole and when the assholes label themselves as "...", they are going to be attacked using the label and whatever pejorative fits the occassion.
I went to see Cheryl Wheeler (singer songwriter) last night. She was a hoot. She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt of some sort. She apologized for her appearance and said she would have dressed up but "...when I saw that Sarah Palin was wearing the same outfit that I had inteneded to wear this evening while debating Joe Biden..." That brought the house down. I'm not sure if she's gay, but she's definitely a lesbian and very, very comfortable with her life. If McCain picked a woman like her, well, we can all have our fantasies.
I was over at the General's place the other day and asked:
"Hey, is there any "Palinporn" coming out of Sherman Oaks, yet? I mean it's been a month and a week, those folks are usually quicker than chinese dvd pirates."
and was answered by another loyal food soldier in the mechanizical infantry.
It appears your instincts are spot-on as usual.
So, it appears that my fantasy was not, in fact, so fantastic as all that.
Sarah Palin/the McCain campaign, have made much of her folksiness, beauty paegant skills and KKKristianity. The porn stuff, not so much.
I'm just curious what you, dear readers, think about beauty queen/political animals. I can't think of any good left leaning spokeswomen who are from that background, but I'm open to your input.
Right now I have to go see about figuring out how to get the fucking suirrels out of my house. I've killed 7 and I just saw another one in the attic space. I could see him, not because of my x-ray vision, but becaues there are no ceilings in the house and no insulation in most of it. It has been getting nippppppppppppy.
Ciao, for now.
The downside is I don't get to watch any sports. The upside is I don't get to watch any politics.
By now the pundits have weighed in on the "debate" of last evening, between Biden and Palinrovebot.
It appears that Sarah did very well. She bloviated, rambled, prevaricated, mis-directed or just flat out lied, depending on the required response to most if not all of the "questions" asked of her.
Much is made, on the reichwing of the GOP about Joe Biden's gaffes--the ImPalinator's? not so much. There is also quite a bit of hoopla re: the McHuntress' "fauxlksiness".
I think Sarah did her job quite well. Her appearance reassured the Baseboobs that if she becomes VP she will be at least as devious, self-righteous, and secretive as the DorkLordCheney. She is quite a few years younger and so should improve her skills in that area as time goes on. Concerns about her abilities vis-a-vis using the power and resources of her office to settle personal scores have long since been laid to rest.
Sarah Palin--the woman to turn to for leadership; when lipstick, lies and a killer slapshot are enough.
I was going to put up a lengthy post about how the vote on the failed house version of the BTBTACOMT (Bill To Buttfuck The American Consumer One More Time) broke down along the lines of who needed to vote against it, or for it, to save their sorry asses in the upcoming election. But, then I remembered it's Sarah's big day and I wanted to keep the internets tubes (at least those that I control) clear of anything that might keep her wit and wisdom from making the impact that it should on the American Intellect.
I got something for you though. It came from here:
Thank you, Bridgett.
It directs yoy to go here:
to see the video featuring
Rich Trumka, Secretary Treasurer of the AFL-CIO and former President of the United Mine Workers, addressing,” in the context of Obama’s candidacy, “the issue of racism among working class people.
Please take the time and pass it on.
Oh, and make sure you have an extra wastebasket to puke in when the pundits give Sarah the Impalinator points for being cute, perky and clueless.
I know that going after Sarah Palin is like gigging beached whales but that doesn't mean I'll stop any time soon.
I saw the video of her being asked, by Katie Couric, what newspapers she reads (or did read) to get her information. She couldn't name one. I know there are a lot of suspect publications out there like WaPo, NYT, Seattle PI, Cleveland Plain Dealer, Miami Herald, ummm Anchorage Daily Times... Then of course there are the birdcage liners of record such as WorldNet Daily, The National Enquirer, New York Daily News, Boston Herald and of course the Washington (End)Times.
Poor Sarah, she's just suffering from information overload. She's never really had to remember anything much more complicated than some of her old HS cheers: "Two, four, six, eight--How do we eviscerate?"!"
Most of the time, rather than worrying about actually knowing both sides of an argument she can just spin the magic GODball on her desk and get the answer: "Where would JESUS build the mall? Why, right next to the mink farm, silly."
Now, to be fair, Sarah has had to go from being the largely disengaged governor of a small frontier state to being a candidate for the job that is one faltering heartbeat from the presidency. But, hey, W proved it can be done (granted that he had a much larger economy, in Texas, to practice fucking up). Perhaps if Sarah could execute a few rape victims, or perps--whatever, and learn to treat all who disagree with her (not just staffers, local officials and ex-in-laws) with utter contempt and as traitors, she will be able to look, even at this late juncture, a bit more pretendsidential.
Well; now that the bailout appears to have flamed out we see the stock market dropping faster than Larry Craig's boxers in airport men's room (what? hey, it's just an analogy!).
In conversations over the weekend ( I was travelling to visit some friends) I was told by a number of people that the credit crunch was the fault of the consumer. There's no doubt in my mind that a lot of folks, who really did know better than to believe that the loan and real estate markets were sound, borrowed much more money than they could hope to repay if anything interrupted their income stream or devalued their equity stake in their property. There were also, of course, many thousands of businesses, both large and small, that went on spending sprees for new equipment, expansion and acquisitons and are now scrambling in a tightening market to service the debt they generated.
However, the major culprits in this situation are the current administration, the financial behemoths that control retail lending and the superbly trained, groomed and accoutred thieves who ran them.
I've been through a bankruptcy. It destroyed my credit for 8 years. As a result of proving that I wasn't very good at controlling my spending I was penalized by being refused any credit at less than confiscatory rates (at least I used to think 24% interest was confiscatory--now that seems like a bargain compared to some of the rates I see). I learned a lesson. I don't owe anyone any money at the moment and I hope to keep it that way. I also don't have any money to speak of, when I finish what I'm doing at the house I will be flat broke, most likely. I know that I can't spend money I don't have and expect someone to bail ME out--with no strings attached. I don't think consumers who borrowed money to purchase McMansions (knowing they couldn't really afford them) should be afforded the same degree of relief as people who were lied to and convinced by the bunco artist lenders that their ARM's were "no problem" and they would just be able to re-fi them at any time.
Once the "customers" have had their 'taste' of ashes and sackcloth I think it would be both just and proper that we deal with their enablers.
I have heard that some bigshot execs have lost their jobs, that they share our pain. Horseshit. The majority of the corporate thugs who were the architects of this house of cards have made piles of money, much of which has been "re purposed" into various stock portfolios, real estate and other assets. I would suggest (fat lot of good it will do) that we set aside some funds and set up a an investigative body to comb through the financial records of the failed institutions and their officers. Where those investigations reveal mis or malfeasance, appropriate penalties--including prison sentences and restitution--should be levied.
Mr. Paulson said, last week, that we needed to offer the people that allowed or caused this current fiasco, some incentives to get them to sign on. I think a couple of hundred U.S. Marshalls and T-men with warrants, green eyeshades and calculators would work wonders.
I actually put this on someone else's comments, but it strikes me that people keep conflating "experience" with training (including the Obama campaign).
The comment that was made, essentially, sais that Palin's lack of foreign policy experience is no more troubling than was Bill Clinton's when he ran for the presidency or Obama's is now. I beg to differ.
Assuming this information on Obama:
Following high school, Obama moved to Los Angeles, where he studied at Occidental College for two years. He then transferred to Columbia University in New York City, where he majored in political science with a specialization in international relations. Obama graduated with a B.A. from Columbia in 1983, then worked for a year at the Business International Corporation and then at the New York Public Interest Research Group.
After four years in New York City, Obama moved to Chicago to work as a community organizer for three years from June 1985 to May 1988 as director of the Developing Communities Project (DCP), a church-based community organization originally comprising eight Catholic parishes in Greater Roseland (Roseland, West Pullman, and Riverdale) on Chicago's far South Side. During his three years as the DCP's director, its staff grew from one to thirteen and its annual budget grew from $70,000 to $400,000, with accomplishments including helping set up a job training program, a college preparatory tutoring program, and a tenants' rights organization in Altgeld Gardens. Obama also worked as a consultant and instructor for the Gamaliel Foundation, a community organizing institute. In mid-1988, he traveled for the first time to Europe for three weeks and then for five weeks in Kenya, where he met many of his Kenyan relatives for the first time.
Obama entered Harvard Law School in late 1988. At the end of his first year, he was selected, based on his grades and a writing competition, as an editor of the Harvard Law Review. In February 1990, in his second year, he was elected president of the Law Review,(wikipedia)"
and Bill Clinton;
"With the aid of scholarships, Clinton attended the Edmund A. Walsh School of Foreign Service at Georgetown University in Washington, D.C., receiving a Bachelor of Science in Foreign Service (B.S.F.S.) degree in 1968. He spent the summer of 1967, the summer before his senior year, working as an intern for Arkansas Senator J. William Fulbright. While in college he became a brother of Alpha Phi Omega and was elected to Phi Beta Kappa. ...
Upon graduation he won a Rhodes Scholarship to University College, Oxford where he studied Government. ...
After Oxford, Clinton attended Yale Law School and obtained a Juris Doctor (J.D.) degree in 1973.(wikipedia)"
to be factual,
I would say that either Obama's or Clinton's resume is little better than Sarah Palin's. Sarah Palin has a degree in sports journalism. NO FOREIGN POLICY EDUCATION OR EXPERIENCE.
It is silly for anyone to think that any candidate for the presidency has a great deal of foreign policy "experience" as even the U.S. congress really only recommends what path the president and secretary of state should follow in that regard. But if a concentration in sports metaphors isn't trumped by a law degree and a B.S. in foreign policy--well, shucks.
Also, it needs to be remembered that JohnnyPOW McCain's campaign touted Sarah Palin's experience in this area. Now they REALLY don't want her to talk about it, outside of totally scripted and managed "interviews". Poor Sarah, the pitbull may wear lipstick but she also wears a muzzle.
Obviously there is no "truth in advertising" law that applies to political campaigns--mores the pity.
Well, we had a deal, but it appears that the GOPimps in the house are now saying that the guy they sent up to the hill had his fingers crossed...
"But a House leadership aide said that there had been no bipartisan negotiations with House Republicans. The aide said Rep. Spencer Bachus, who had been meeting with Frank and Sen. Chris Dodd, head of the Senate Banking Committee, had no authority to speak for them.
In a statement before the meeting, Bachus said that he had made it clear in the meeting that "I was not authorized by my colleagues to make any agreement on behalf of House Republicans."
So, now it would appear that we don't have a deal. Our economy is tanking (has been for quite some time, actually) and the reptilicans are going to use this crisis as another chance to fuck the rest of us and at the same time make political points with the morons that support McCain/Palin or Bushco V1.1, if you will.
They say that the Chinese have an ideogram for "crisis" that combines "danger" with "opportunity". I think the GOP has one that combines "cynicism" with "talking points".
Here's a great MPalincCain ad.
I watched a fair amount of Olbermann's show from last evening on a podcast and about eight minutes of Letterman, all having to do, oddly enough with the McPalincain presidential campaign.
I'm not sure what's stranger; the surreal aspect of both Palin and McCain's obvious disconnect with what they say when they know they're on camera and what they've said in the past or say now, when they think they're off the record--or the fact that most of the media is STILL blissfully pumping out whatever passes for the truth from CampaignMcStain.
Don't take my word for it, google Olbermann, google Letterman (Jay Leno's got to be seething that McCain didn't "diss" him). Check out Mudflats blog.
I don't think we're seeing that the emperor's naked, I think we're seeing that his spleen is enlarged, he's got fibroid entanglements in his brain and he's suffering from Madrunningmate's disease.
That's okay, Reverend Muthee, the witchdoctordoctor will save the senator and his team from that evil sorcerer O Bam A.
And a bright "good morning" to all!
I have been puzzling over the claim by Bushco apparatchik Henry Paulson that not making a quick, uninformed decision about the $750,000,000,000 welfare program for the downtrodden CEO's of Wall Street.
See, I don't got me no degree in economics or finance or nuttin, so I can't begin to see how badly we're really being fucked if this thing goes through. What I can do is google and I'm half decent with numbers, so....
$1M in "Benjamins" = the following:
Total area: 103.389471 square meters
Total weight: According to the U.S. Treasury, "In $100 bills, the weight
of $1million is about 22 pounds." [that's 10 kg.]
Total height: Stacked singly, 48.82 inches high.
Total length: Laid end to end, 5083.333... feet long.
So, here are the figures for Bushco's Golden Airborne Division bailout.
Total area: 77,542,103.25 square meters or 29.939173442746206 square miles
(for purposes of comparison, Manhattan's total land area is
22.96 sq mi.)
Total weight: 7,500 metric tons or, 8267.334... Tons-short
Total height: Stacked singly, 577.888... miles high.
Total length: Laid end to end, 722,064.346... miles long
More fun facts: If we go for this Ponzi scheme, and take out a
"home impoverishment loan" we can look at the following
Loan amount: $ 750,000,000,000.00
Loan term : 30 Years
Interest rate: 5.750% (We ARE well qualified buyers)
Monthly Payment: $ 4,376,796,423.33 a month
Totals--Principal: $ 750,000,000,000.00
Interest: $ 825,646,712,398.80
Grand Total: $ 1,575,646,712,398.80 (you can forget
about the .80; just round it down.)
Dividing this figure by 150,000,000 taxpayers (an arbitrary number; I just plucked it out of the air, unlike Mr. Paulson) I come up with a per capita number of, let's see $ 10,504.31 or about $29.18 per month. Why, it's just like a "Christmas Club savings account. The CEO's get to open their gifts for the next 30 years, we get the bill! And this will secure my future? how?
The good news for me is that there's little or no chance I'll be paying for the whole term of the note--I'm 58.
I don't know about you folks, but I don't want to get asked over for dinner and then get stuck with paying for the house.
I went out this evening to get a few beers and some chicken wings. When I was getting ready to leave the bar I ran into a guy I know and another guy that I met once before. We talked for a few minutes and the fellow I knew told the other guy that I was renovating my house and he mentioned the sidewalk. At this point the other said that I should have had the city do my sidewalk. I told him the city wasn't about to take care of my sidewalk. He then informed me that you just have to "know the right people". It went downhill from there. I told him that people who are connected get things done, at the expense of the rest of us, he didn't like hearing it. People like him never like hearing that they are, in fact, gaming the system--just like all those welfare cheats they always talk about.
I know the other guy is a staunch republican and try to avoid discussing politics with him. But the whole thing got going with both of them reciting the GOP's talking points about Obama. One of them went so far as to to say that it's not okay for the MSM to call Obama a black guy, but it's okay to make fun of Sarah Palin and ask if she's done her laundry today (something I've not heard on ANY news outlet). When I asked him if he felt like Obama was the "black guy", he tried to act as if it wasn't what he said.
I was quite pissed and had to leave. It's not that I can't accept people having convictions about their candidates. It's that I can't abide people who are being willfully blind to the truth.
One of they guys said that Bush had given everybody $600 and, now, Obama was "bribing" people to vote for him by promising them $1K. The other guy said Obama has done nothing, gotten no bills passed, during his 4 years in the U.S. Senate. Neither of them had any opinion, apparently, on Sarah Palin's absolute lack of knowledge or meaningful experience in dealing with issues affecting significant populations. Nor did they have anything to say about Bushco's $700B bailout plan for WS, which they either think is a good idea or they have no thoughts about at all.
When I encounter that sort of mindset, willful blindness is as charitable a description as I can muster for that sort of attitude. Selfishness, cowardice and cynicism are, I think, a good deal closer to the mark.
I almost forgot to mention that they will both be voting for McCain.