eGypped.
The politically incorrect event of being ripped off in the Internet. It is still politically incorrect even though President Sarkozy has decided to expel many of the Roma population that lives in France. Usually an expulsion confers upon the expulsee the status of dirt leaving them open to all manner of insult. Never mind that the Roma have withstood insult in France and elsewhere in Europe for many years now and no one seems to care.
Egypt.
The latest country in the Middle East to experience political turbulence. Mubarak is considered, by many, to be a despot and crowds of angry protesters have defied the government and participated in public protests.
Who knows what will happen? Will Mubarak prevail and continue to be an American ally and a friend to Israel or will ElBaradei take over and change the status quo?
The larger question is whether the trifecta of unrest that has gone from Tunisia to Egypt to Yemen will spread and cause a major change in the governments of the region.
What will we do? We support dictatorships throughout the area because they serve our stated national interest (and those of the corporations doing business there...)
We turn a blind eye to the injustice and deprivation of human rights that runs rampant in these insular societies.
We are afraid that we will lose the upper hand in our business dealings and that maybe these governments will go from being totalitarian to being theocratic.
Which is worse...opression or Islam? Clearly we have made our decision over the years.
We support Saudi Arabia, for example, when it has been shown time and again that they seem to lack the respect for basic human rights that we demand from ourselves and other nations.
Why do we tolerate the hypocrisy? Because they have the oil.
Period.
We tolerate it in China because they have cheap goods and own half of the US anyway.
We tolerate the hypocrisy whenever and wherever we have a selfish need.
Where is our morality? Where are our principles? Where are the basic beliefs that the Founders put their lives on the line for?
What is wrong with us?
So... eGypped or Egypt. Either way someone is getting hosed.
I wonder who...?
Monday, January 31, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
The Squeaky Wheel Gets The Oil
Notice: This post includes some hyperbole and vast generalizations. Read on at your own risk!
Are you that myopic? Are you that unconscious? Are you that out of touch? Is your "belt" way too tight...?
(Get it? It's a joke. Belt-Way...? Beltway...?)
I listen to the Punditocracy talk about Pachmann (not Pac-man...Palin/Bachmann) with incredulity as they try to understand why these two "*%#!" get away with the "#!*%" that they spew. Forgive my language but these two women bring out the vulgarity in me.
Palin invokes the slang "WTF" to talk about, incorrectly, the "Sputnik Moment."
Bachmann rewrites American history when she talks about slavery and the Founders.
The talking heads in Washington are amazed that "The Girls" get away with it and wonder how Republicans can take either of them seriously as possible Presidential candidates in 2012.
WAKE UP GUYS!!
The American people aren't interested in facts. They aren't interested in history.
They are interested in sports and television and The Oscars and Brangelina and Kim Kardashian (Full disclosure: Kim Kardashian holds some allure for me too...I will admit that...)
Palin and Bachmann are viable and could very well be nominated and, what's worse, win, exactly for the reasons that the Pundits seem to overlook.
It is because they are ignorant and uneducated that they are appealing. You want to know why, class? ("Are you chewing gum...?")
Because they represent the vast majority of people in this country.
Barack Obama was elected because he was not John McCain who was seen as more of George W. Bush.
We would have elected Mickey Mouse had he been on the ballot just to get as far away from Bush as we could. And you don't get much farther away from a privileged blue blood, Yalie, Yankee (Texan?...Puhleez...! He was born in New Haven and grew up in Connecticut, Massachusetts and Maine) than a black man from a broken home.
We don't prize excellence in this country. We are satisfied with mediocracy. ("Mediocracy": a society of people satisfied with mediocrity as a way of life...not to be confused with "Mediacracy" which is a society of people made up entirely of people who work for the "Media", or "Medeacracy" which is a society of people obsessed with the story of the Greek mythological character, Medea. Go ahead...refudiate those definitions...I dare ya...!)
We continually come in behind most of the rest of the developed world when it comes to math and science scores among our young people. We have less engineers and less computer geniuses and less talent than the rest of the world because they understand the need for excellence and we don't. We play football in high school while they study calculus. We cut the arts while they learn to play the violin. We yearn for snow days while they go to school all year long.
We think we can rest on the laurels of the past and ignore the painful realities of the present. Sure, we won World War II and the Space Race and we have invented and developed a lot of the technological wonders of the modern world.
But "that was then and this is now..."
We are behind and it doesn't look like we're going to catch up. We are eating nachos in front of our big screen TVs while the rest of the world is studying and learning English and lending us the money we need to keep going. How many kids do you know who speak Mandarin? How many Chinese kids do you know who speak English? You take my point??
So stop wondering why Pachmann is so powerful and has such staying power.
It is because the establishment is singing the same old tired political song of the past while the Tea Party is shouting about the inherent failure of our current governmental society.
And it is because so many Americans are so uneducated and driven by popular culture that uninformed personae (Latin for "people"...pompous of me, I know, but fun...) like Sarah Palin and Michele Bachmann are so popular.
People look at them and see themselves. There is "resonance."
They can "relate."
They look at Obama and Romney and Pawlenty and Hillary and they can't relate. These are intelligent men and women, regardless of their political ideology.
They are anathema.
They are aliens.
They are so 1960.
We are doomed.
Thanks for reading and enjoy the Super Bowl. Pass the pretzels would ya...?
Go Packers!
Are you that myopic? Are you that unconscious? Are you that out of touch? Is your "belt" way too tight...?
(Get it? It's a joke. Belt-Way...? Beltway...?)
I listen to the Punditocracy talk about Pachmann (not Pac-man...Palin/Bachmann) with incredulity as they try to understand why these two "*%#!" get away with the "#!*%" that they spew. Forgive my language but these two women bring out the vulgarity in me.
Palin invokes the slang "WTF" to talk about, incorrectly, the "Sputnik Moment."
Bachmann rewrites American history when she talks about slavery and the Founders.
The talking heads in Washington are amazed that "The Girls" get away with it and wonder how Republicans can take either of them seriously as possible Presidential candidates in 2012.
WAKE UP GUYS!!
The American people aren't interested in facts. They aren't interested in history.
They are interested in sports and television and The Oscars and Brangelina and Kim Kardashian (Full disclosure: Kim Kardashian holds some allure for me too...I will admit that...)
Palin and Bachmann are viable and could very well be nominated and, what's worse, win, exactly for the reasons that the Pundits seem to overlook.
It is because they are ignorant and uneducated that they are appealing. You want to know why, class? ("Are you chewing gum...?")
Because they represent the vast majority of people in this country.
Barack Obama was elected because he was not John McCain who was seen as more of George W. Bush.
We would have elected Mickey Mouse had he been on the ballot just to get as far away from Bush as we could. And you don't get much farther away from a privileged blue blood, Yalie, Yankee (Texan?...Puhleez...! He was born in New Haven and grew up in Connecticut, Massachusetts and Maine) than a black man from a broken home.
We don't prize excellence in this country. We are satisfied with mediocracy. ("Mediocracy": a society of people satisfied with mediocrity as a way of life...not to be confused with "Mediacracy" which is a society of people made up entirely of people who work for the "Media", or "Medeacracy" which is a society of people obsessed with the story of the Greek mythological character, Medea. Go ahead...refudiate those definitions...I dare ya...!)
We continually come in behind most of the rest of the developed world when it comes to math and science scores among our young people. We have less engineers and less computer geniuses and less talent than the rest of the world because they understand the need for excellence and we don't. We play football in high school while they study calculus. We cut the arts while they learn to play the violin. We yearn for snow days while they go to school all year long.
We think we can rest on the laurels of the past and ignore the painful realities of the present. Sure, we won World War II and the Space Race and we have invented and developed a lot of the technological wonders of the modern world.
But "that was then and this is now..."
We are behind and it doesn't look like we're going to catch up. We are eating nachos in front of our big screen TVs while the rest of the world is studying and learning English and lending us the money we need to keep going. How many kids do you know who speak Mandarin? How many Chinese kids do you know who speak English? You take my point??
So stop wondering why Pachmann is so powerful and has such staying power.
It is because the establishment is singing the same old tired political song of the past while the Tea Party is shouting about the inherent failure of our current governmental society.
And it is because so many Americans are so uneducated and driven by popular culture that uninformed personae (Latin for "people"...pompous of me, I know, but fun...) like Sarah Palin and Michele Bachmann are so popular.
People look at them and see themselves. There is "resonance."
They can "relate."
They look at Obama and Romney and Pawlenty and Hillary and they can't relate. These are intelligent men and women, regardless of their political ideology.
They are anathema.
They are aliens.
They are so 1960.
We are doomed.
Thanks for reading and enjoy the Super Bowl. Pass the pretzels would ya...?
Go Packers!
Reflections
I was asked last night what the single most memorable moment of my life was so far.
I drew a blank.
My mind flooded with memories and strained to find the winner.
I couldn't do it. Too many contenders.
My life has been a series of wonderful experiences dotted, and sometimes underpinned, by moments I would just as soon forget.
Like the many moments of insensitivity that hurt too many feelings. I'm truly sorry for all of that.
Like neglecting the things that would turn out to matter in favor of the paying attention to things long ago forgotten.
Like the myriad unfinished pieces of business that make for a "to do" list a mile long.
Too many contenders.
But then there are the good things.
Like my junior year of high school in France. That single experience, those nine months, changed my life forever. Not only did I learn to speak French and make friends whom I have loved for over 43 years but I learned about the world and how I am a part of it...the whole thing...not just one little myopic corner. And I learned to love ham and butter on a baguette..."Sandwich Jambon."
Like the birth of my precious daughter. She is, to me, my raison d'etre. Oh My God do I love her.
Like the meeting of my beautiful, powerful, nurturing wife. She cares for me better than I care for myself. She loves me and sees the perfection of my soul. She allows for my shortcomings, however large or small, and sees them within the context of me as an entire being, full of possibility. She is, by far, my dream come true...my best friend.
Like meeting Walter Cronkite. A childhood hero with whom I got to spend a few hours.
Like playing guitar at Lincoln Center. What a thrill!
Like the cheeseburger I had once at a grimy bar off of Ferry St. in New Haven. The best I've ever had.
Like the chowder at The Swan Oyster Depot on Polk St. in San Francisco with Mike and Janet and Shari in 1980.
Like being cast as "Jake" in "I'm Getting My Act Together and Taking it On The Road" at Joe Papp's Public Theatre.
Like covering the 2004 Republican National Convention for ABC News.
Like playing the drums with Blue Plate Special when Rick Derringer sat in in Colchester, CT.
Like all of the music I've ever played with all of the musicians I've ever known...except that one guy whose songs were so painfully boring but he always wanted me to hear them and play along...arghhhhh!
Like getting royalty checks from BMI for "Tornado", which was recorded by the late, great Gus Hardin and is in "Deterrence" with Kevin Pollack.
Like being lucky enough to have a sense of humor.
Like pulling out of Guilford Harbor and "opening 'er up" towards Faulkner Island.
Like getting my electrician's license. Thanks Bill.
Like all of the wonderful friends and lovers I've ever had. I have the best friends in the whole world. My friends are better than your friends.
"Na na na na na...!"
Like having Max Weyl as a father. I will always love him.
And the list goes on forever.
I am lucky and blessed and possessive of more riches than the Sultan of Brunei.
Well, maybe not the Sultan of Brunei. But definitely more than Bill Gates.
Actually, not more than Bill Gates but absolutely more than Michael Jordan.
Uh...hmmmmm...possibly not Michael Jordan either.
Jeez...who then?
More than...uh...
Nobody.
I'm like George Bailey. I'm the richest man in the world.
I have it all.
I have health and happiness and a wonderful family and great memories and a bright future.
60 down...all the rest to go.
Bring it on...!
I drew a blank.
My mind flooded with memories and strained to find the winner.
I couldn't do it. Too many contenders.
My life has been a series of wonderful experiences dotted, and sometimes underpinned, by moments I would just as soon forget.
Like the many moments of insensitivity that hurt too many feelings. I'm truly sorry for all of that.
Like neglecting the things that would turn out to matter in favor of the paying attention to things long ago forgotten.
Like the myriad unfinished pieces of business that make for a "to do" list a mile long.
Too many contenders.
But then there are the good things.
Like my junior year of high school in France. That single experience, those nine months, changed my life forever. Not only did I learn to speak French and make friends whom I have loved for over 43 years but I learned about the world and how I am a part of it...the whole thing...not just one little myopic corner. And I learned to love ham and butter on a baguette..."Sandwich Jambon."
Like the birth of my precious daughter. She is, to me, my raison d'etre. Oh My God do I love her.
Like the meeting of my beautiful, powerful, nurturing wife. She cares for me better than I care for myself. She loves me and sees the perfection of my soul. She allows for my shortcomings, however large or small, and sees them within the context of me as an entire being, full of possibility. She is, by far, my dream come true...my best friend.
Like meeting Walter Cronkite. A childhood hero with whom I got to spend a few hours.
Like playing guitar at Lincoln Center. What a thrill!
Like the cheeseburger I had once at a grimy bar off of Ferry St. in New Haven. The best I've ever had.
Like the chowder at The Swan Oyster Depot on Polk St. in San Francisco with Mike and Janet and Shari in 1980.
Like being cast as "Jake" in "I'm Getting My Act Together and Taking it On The Road" at Joe Papp's Public Theatre.
Like covering the 2004 Republican National Convention for ABC News.
Like playing the drums with Blue Plate Special when Rick Derringer sat in in Colchester, CT.
Like all of the music I've ever played with all of the musicians I've ever known...except that one guy whose songs were so painfully boring but he always wanted me to hear them and play along...arghhhhh!
Like getting royalty checks from BMI for "Tornado", which was recorded by the late, great Gus Hardin and is in "Deterrence" with Kevin Pollack.
Like being lucky enough to have a sense of humor.
Like pulling out of Guilford Harbor and "opening 'er up" towards Faulkner Island.
Like getting my electrician's license. Thanks Bill.
Like all of the wonderful friends and lovers I've ever had. I have the best friends in the whole world. My friends are better than your friends.
"Na na na na na...!"
Like having Max Weyl as a father. I will always love him.
And the list goes on forever.
I am lucky and blessed and possessive of more riches than the Sultan of Brunei.
Well, maybe not the Sultan of Brunei. But definitely more than Bill Gates.
Actually, not more than Bill Gates but absolutely more than Michael Jordan.
Uh...hmmmmm...possibly not Michael Jordan either.
Jeez...who then?
More than...uh...
Nobody.
I'm like George Bailey. I'm the richest man in the world.
I have it all.
I have health and happiness and a wonderful family and great memories and a bright future.
60 down...all the rest to go.
Bring it on...!
Friday, January 21, 2011
A Penny For Your Thoughts
There is almost nothing more wonderful than finding money. There it is just sitting there. You didn't have to do anything. No effort has been expended. It's free*.
Found money.
A number of years ago I had a young friend who gave me a homemade Christmas present.
It was a cardboard oatmeal can, cut in half and wrapped in decorated blue paper. It had a slit on the removable top about an inch long.
There was a little sign on the top too. It read, "Found Money."
I still have it. At the time I would pick up the occasional penny or dime that I found in the street and put it in my right pants pocket. That was to differentiate it from the change in my left pocket, the coins that I had gotten when I broke a bill. The left hand money I had earned. The right hand money I had found.
My young friend was aware of the fact that I played this little game and gave me the gift so I could store my found coins. Very thoughtful and very creative.
When the can would get full I would sit in front of the television and put the coins in paper wrappers so I could take them to the bank to exchange them for bills. I kept a running tally in the lid.
To suggest that I was obsessive about it would overstate the effort. I was interested in seeing, however, how much I would find. I did this for twenty years.
It wasn't hard. It became automatic. Get change from a transaction...put the coins in my left pocket. Find a coin. Put it in my right pocket and then, at bedtime, when I would empty my pockets onto my dresser, I would put the found money in the can.
The result?
On the day I stopped doing it, after twenty years, I added up the columns in the can's top. I had found an amazing $760.00!
In pennies and dimes and the rare quarter. Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I did find some one dollar bills, a five or two, a twenty and one fifty at Starbucks on Columbus Ave. at 67th Street. That one was amazing!
But those bills accounted for, maybe, 15% of the overall take.
The rest was all coins and mostly pennies.
People don't seem to care about pennies. If one gets dropped while looking for a quarter for the parking meter, it is left to roll away and disappear into the dirt or the gutter.
But there it is nevertheless. It might be dirty and it might be scratched but it is still there, in all of it's copper glory, waiting to be picked up, to be brought back from the dead, to be loved again. And far be it from me to ignore that penny's cry. "Here I am to save the day!"
"Come to Papa! Join your cousins in the warmth of my pocket!"
And especially an old Wheat Sheaves penny. But they don't ever get spent. They go into that funny little pocket above the right hand, bigger pocket in my jeans that was originally designed for a watch but has long ago become useless except for the Wheat Sheaves penny and/or a guitar pick. It would be where George Bailey would have put Zuzu's petals had he worn blue jeans in Capra's classic, "It's a Wonderful Life." It will, no doubt, be where Brad Pitt puts the petals when they remake the movie. That funny little, wonderfully useless pocket, Old Building and Loan Pal.
Got off track there, sorry...anyway...then the Wheat Sheaves penny goes into a different jar at home to be saved forever or to be redeemed by my grandchildren when they (the pennies, not the grandchildren. The grandchildren, as we all know, will be priceless...) are worth more than a penny apiece. And they are so cool anyway. They have old dates...1943, 1952, 1937...wonderful to think of where that penny has travelled and how many pockets its' been in. And whose pockets those were. And in what town. And to buy what. Wonderful...
I, long ago, stopped separating the earned coins from the found ones. It was getting ridiculous. Now they are all in my left hand pocket. All friends together. No favorites.
I had acheived my goal and established an important benchmark, a valuable piece of data.
On average, if you're looking, you will find $38.00 a year. That's a movie for two and a large popcorn and a large drink and a large box of Sno-Caps (or Jujy Fruits...but not enough for the dental floss to remove the piece of Jujy Fruit lodged in the teeth in the back of your mouth. The dental floss would be extra. Maybe $3.00...for the good stuff...not the stuff that frays and makes you want to gag.)
$38.00 is almost a tank of gas. In New Jersey.
It's a large pizza with all the toppings and two big bottles of soda.
It's a lot of things. And the best part of it is that it's free!
(Remember the asterisk at the beginning of this post? Well here you go...)
Actually, as we are always hearing, nothing is ever "free." After all, you have to bend over to pick the coin up. But that has its' benefits too. You are exercising without thinking about it. Come to think of it, $38.00 is three months at Planet Fitness and a bottle of water per month...which, if you only buy one, you can refill and help the environment at the same time and have a few bucks left over to apply to the cost of the abovementioned dental floss.
And another thing. Watch what happens to your walking companions when you cry out, "A penny!"
Immediately they start scanning the ground in the hopes of finding one too...or a dime or a quarter or a dollar bill.
But there are rules. There are definitely rules here. You may not pick up a coin in a known room or yard. If it's in your friend's living room or garden it's his. No question about it. No negotiation. Just leave it there.
If you see someone drop a coin or a bill and they don't notice it, that piece of money is fair game after they have left the immediate area of the "drop." It does, however, present you with a sticky moral dilemma but the money is fair game nonetheless.
As is a coin in a newspaper box, a pay phone or a parking meter. These are all areas of interpretation...moral conversations between you, your God and your dark side.
But in the street or in the gutter or on the sidewalk...you're golden! Not literally though. Gold is no longer found in coins. Gold is only found in wedding rings and on Capitol domes. And sometimes in teeth. But, not in coins.
Go for it! Pick 'er up. Put 'er in your pocket. Develop a relationship with someone who will make you a little box. Separate out the found coins from the earned ones. Keep a log. Wait twenty years. Count your money.
Be a lunatic. Start to talk to yourself. Drool.
Prepare for the end.
$38.00/year
The price of admission to Happy Acres.
"Got any spare change...?"
Found money.
A number of years ago I had a young friend who gave me a homemade Christmas present.
It was a cardboard oatmeal can, cut in half and wrapped in decorated blue paper. It had a slit on the removable top about an inch long.
There was a little sign on the top too. It read, "Found Money."
I still have it. At the time I would pick up the occasional penny or dime that I found in the street and put it in my right pants pocket. That was to differentiate it from the change in my left pocket, the coins that I had gotten when I broke a bill. The left hand money I had earned. The right hand money I had found.
My young friend was aware of the fact that I played this little game and gave me the gift so I could store my found coins. Very thoughtful and very creative.
When the can would get full I would sit in front of the television and put the coins in paper wrappers so I could take them to the bank to exchange them for bills. I kept a running tally in the lid.
To suggest that I was obsessive about it would overstate the effort. I was interested in seeing, however, how much I would find. I did this for twenty years.
It wasn't hard. It became automatic. Get change from a transaction...put the coins in my left pocket. Find a coin. Put it in my right pocket and then, at bedtime, when I would empty my pockets onto my dresser, I would put the found money in the can.
The result?
On the day I stopped doing it, after twenty years, I added up the columns in the can's top. I had found an amazing $760.00!
In pennies and dimes and the rare quarter. Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I did find some one dollar bills, a five or two, a twenty and one fifty at Starbucks on Columbus Ave. at 67th Street. That one was amazing!
But those bills accounted for, maybe, 15% of the overall take.
The rest was all coins and mostly pennies.
People don't seem to care about pennies. If one gets dropped while looking for a quarter for the parking meter, it is left to roll away and disappear into the dirt or the gutter.
But there it is nevertheless. It might be dirty and it might be scratched but it is still there, in all of it's copper glory, waiting to be picked up, to be brought back from the dead, to be loved again. And far be it from me to ignore that penny's cry. "Here I am to save the day!"
"Come to Papa! Join your cousins in the warmth of my pocket!"
And especially an old Wheat Sheaves penny. But they don't ever get spent. They go into that funny little pocket above the right hand, bigger pocket in my jeans that was originally designed for a watch but has long ago become useless except for the Wheat Sheaves penny and/or a guitar pick. It would be where George Bailey would have put Zuzu's petals had he worn blue jeans in Capra's classic, "It's a Wonderful Life." It will, no doubt, be where Brad Pitt puts the petals when they remake the movie. That funny little, wonderfully useless pocket, Old Building and Loan Pal.
Got off track there, sorry...anyway...then the Wheat Sheaves penny goes into a different jar at home to be saved forever or to be redeemed by my grandchildren when they (the pennies, not the grandchildren. The grandchildren, as we all know, will be priceless...) are worth more than a penny apiece. And they are so cool anyway. They have old dates...1943, 1952, 1937...wonderful to think of where that penny has travelled and how many pockets its' been in. And whose pockets those were. And in what town. And to buy what. Wonderful...
I, long ago, stopped separating the earned coins from the found ones. It was getting ridiculous. Now they are all in my left hand pocket. All friends together. No favorites.
I had acheived my goal and established an important benchmark, a valuable piece of data.
On average, if you're looking, you will find $38.00 a year. That's a movie for two and a large popcorn and a large drink and a large box of Sno-Caps (or Jujy Fruits...but not enough for the dental floss to remove the piece of Jujy Fruit lodged in the teeth in the back of your mouth. The dental floss would be extra. Maybe $3.00...for the good stuff...not the stuff that frays and makes you want to gag.)
$38.00 is almost a tank of gas. In New Jersey.
It's a large pizza with all the toppings and two big bottles of soda.
It's a lot of things. And the best part of it is that it's free!
(Remember the asterisk at the beginning of this post? Well here you go...)
Actually, as we are always hearing, nothing is ever "free." After all, you have to bend over to pick the coin up. But that has its' benefits too. You are exercising without thinking about it. Come to think of it, $38.00 is three months at Planet Fitness and a bottle of water per month...which, if you only buy one, you can refill and help the environment at the same time and have a few bucks left over to apply to the cost of the abovementioned dental floss.
And another thing. Watch what happens to your walking companions when you cry out, "A penny!"
Immediately they start scanning the ground in the hopes of finding one too...or a dime or a quarter or a dollar bill.
But there are rules. There are definitely rules here. You may not pick up a coin in a known room or yard. If it's in your friend's living room or garden it's his. No question about it. No negotiation. Just leave it there.
If you see someone drop a coin or a bill and they don't notice it, that piece of money is fair game after they have left the immediate area of the "drop." It does, however, present you with a sticky moral dilemma but the money is fair game nonetheless.
As is a coin in a newspaper box, a pay phone or a parking meter. These are all areas of interpretation...moral conversations between you, your God and your dark side.
But in the street or in the gutter or on the sidewalk...you're golden! Not literally though. Gold is no longer found in coins. Gold is only found in wedding rings and on Capitol domes. And sometimes in teeth. But, not in coins.
Go for it! Pick 'er up. Put 'er in your pocket. Develop a relationship with someone who will make you a little box. Separate out the found coins from the earned ones. Keep a log. Wait twenty years. Count your money.
Be a lunatic. Start to talk to yourself. Drool.
Prepare for the end.
$38.00/year
The price of admission to Happy Acres.
"Got any spare change...?"
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Bentley vs. Rolls
An age old question among motorheads:
Which is better, a Bentley or a Rolls?
I submit that it's a Rolls, but not for the reasons you might expect.
Now we have a new Governor in Alabama. Remember George Wallace? He was from Alabama too.
Welcome the new guy, Robert Bentley.
Just when we thought we had enough idiots, we get this new one.
On the day of his inauguration he is quoted as saying, "Now I will have to say that, if we don't have the same daddy, we're not brothers and sisters. So anybody here today who has not accepted Jesus Christ as their savior, I'm telling you, you're not my brother and you're not my sister, and I want to be your brother.”
Obviously Jews, Muslims, Hindus and Buddhists are dismayed. But what about everybody else? How about just everybody, period? (and does he get a partial pass for saying that he wants to be my "brother"...? No, I don't think so Laddie)
Why does a guy, albeit a retired dermatologist, not know that what he said will piss people off? Maybe not like-minded morons who only see people who are just like them but the rest of the population who understands that differences of religion and economic status and levels of education and skin color are simply that (you'd think he'd get the skin color thing at least...dermatology...skin...
get it Governor?)
Differences. They don't make you bad or good. There are plenty of assholes in any corner of the planet. White, black, yellow, red, brown, Jew, Christian, rich, poor, educated and unschooled. Well maybe there are more educated rich white guys who are jerks than other groups but that misses the point (from a report at MSNBC: "Employees at Goldman earned an average of $430,700 each in 2010, down 13.5 percent from 2009 but still more than eight times as much as the average U.S. household income." That just makes you want to scream, doesn't it...unless you are an educated, rich, white guy, in which case...my sincere apologies, Pal-o-mine...can you spare a dime?)
The last thing we need is a person in authority, an elected official, running off at the mouth about intolerance. We need people in positions of power who see the potential in all of us, in spite of the differences among us.
Two heads are better than one but only if both heads are full of hope and possibility not prejudice and ignorance.
I wonder if the Governor realizes that Jesus was a Jew? What would he say if he knew that? He must know that. He can't be that stupid. Well, can he?
What is it with our Governors anyway? First Alaska (Palin), then Arizona (Brewer), now Alabama (Bentley). What? Are we going alphabetically? Arkansas (Beebe) must be next. Three down, forty seven to go.
"Sweet Home Alabama"
Great hook in a classic rock song.
I guess the greatness stops there. Where's Neil Young when we need him...?
Which is better, a Bentley or a Rolls?
I submit that it's a Rolls, but not for the reasons you might expect.
Now we have a new Governor in Alabama. Remember George Wallace? He was from Alabama too.
Welcome the new guy, Robert Bentley.
Just when we thought we had enough idiots, we get this new one.
On the day of his inauguration he is quoted as saying, "Now I will have to say that, if we don't have the same daddy, we're not brothers and sisters. So anybody here today who has not accepted Jesus Christ as their savior, I'm telling you, you're not my brother and you're not my sister, and I want to be your brother.”
Obviously Jews, Muslims, Hindus and Buddhists are dismayed. But what about everybody else? How about just everybody, period? (and does he get a partial pass for saying that he wants to be my "brother"...? No, I don't think so Laddie)
Why does a guy, albeit a retired dermatologist, not know that what he said will piss people off? Maybe not like-minded morons who only see people who are just like them but the rest of the population who understands that differences of religion and economic status and levels of education and skin color are simply that (you'd think he'd get the skin color thing at least...dermatology...skin...
get it Governor?)
Differences. They don't make you bad or good. There are plenty of assholes in any corner of the planet. White, black, yellow, red, brown, Jew, Christian, rich, poor, educated and unschooled. Well maybe there are more educated rich white guys who are jerks than other groups but that misses the point (from a report at MSNBC: "Employees at Goldman earned an average of $430,700 each in 2010, down 13.5 percent from 2009 but still more than eight times as much as the average U.S. household income." That just makes you want to scream, doesn't it...unless you are an educated, rich, white guy, in which case...my sincere apologies, Pal-o-mine...can you spare a dime?)
The last thing we need is a person in authority, an elected official, running off at the mouth about intolerance. We need people in positions of power who see the potential in all of us, in spite of the differences among us.
Two heads are better than one but only if both heads are full of hope and possibility not prejudice and ignorance.
I wonder if the Governor realizes that Jesus was a Jew? What would he say if he knew that? He must know that. He can't be that stupid. Well, can he?
What is it with our Governors anyway? First Alaska (Palin), then Arizona (Brewer), now Alabama (Bentley). What? Are we going alphabetically? Arkansas (Beebe) must be next. Three down, forty seven to go.
"Sweet Home Alabama"
Great hook in a classic rock song.
I guess the greatness stops there. Where's Neil Young when we need him...?
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Free Advice...
Ok, Democrats...here's your big chance!
During the national debate about health care reform the Republicans grabbed the microphone and declared that President Obama's proposals would include, so-called "Death Panels."
People freaked out!
"Death Panels?!" OH MY GOD!! We can't let the president and the Democrats win on health care reform because they will have 'Death Panels'." Little did everyone know that "Death Panels" are really the knotty pine ones that people put in their rec rooms in the seventies along with avocado colored mini-fridges and bean bag chairs.
Those panels were so ugly that they could kill you. Really. I know a guy whose mother-in-law fainted when she walked into his rec room. Never mind that he was smoking pot and watching Deep Throat at the time. We were all sure it was the knotty pine "Death Panels" that did her in.
Anyway...back to the issue at hand.
All the Democrats have to do is declare that the attempt at repeal that is making its's way through the House is none other than the "You Are Killing My Mother" bill.
The Republicans are trying to KILL MY MOTHER! My poor sweet little old mother. In her rocker (or off of it, as the case may be...) covered with an Afghan (hopefully not one who is too heavy) sipping tea (brewed for her by a volunteer from The Tea Party...not!)
"YOU ARE KILLING MY MOTHER" has a certain resonance, a certain ring, a certain je ne sais quoi...
It is all marketing my friends. It is all about image. The Republicans call Obama's legislation "Death Panels" and they get away with it.
All the Democrats have to say is "YOU ARE KILLING MY MOTHER", five times, but not too fast, and Presto! The Republicans lose the debate.
After all, everybody's got a mother. Some have two. Mom. Apple pie, etc. Isn't that what this country is built on, what it's all about? "The American Way?"
Mess with my mother (or father in the case of George W. Bush...See: Saddam Hussein) and I will pull your heart out with my bare hands and put it where the sun don't shine after I've eaten half of it and shoved some of it in your face as you die a horrible agonizing death (got a bit carried away there...sorry..."The American Way" rearing it's ugly head...)!
To the Republicans, sensible, fair health care reform equals "Death Panels."
To the Democrats it should mean "YOU ARE KILLING MY MOTHER!"
If they adopt that slogan they might just prevail. Otherwise Mommy Dearest will be living in our living room on a fold out couch watching endless reruns of Lawrence Welk and farting.
In retrospect maybe "Death Panels" ain't so bad.
Just kidding Mom...
During the national debate about health care reform the Republicans grabbed the microphone and declared that President Obama's proposals would include, so-called "Death Panels."
People freaked out!
"Death Panels?!" OH MY GOD!! We can't let the president and the Democrats win on health care reform because they will have 'Death Panels'." Little did everyone know that "Death Panels" are really the knotty pine ones that people put in their rec rooms in the seventies along with avocado colored mini-fridges and bean bag chairs.
Those panels were so ugly that they could kill you. Really. I know a guy whose mother-in-law fainted when she walked into his rec room. Never mind that he was smoking pot and watching Deep Throat at the time. We were all sure it was the knotty pine "Death Panels" that did her in.
Anyway...back to the issue at hand.
All the Democrats have to do is declare that the attempt at repeal that is making its's way through the House is none other than the "You Are Killing My Mother" bill.
The Republicans are trying to KILL MY MOTHER! My poor sweet little old mother. In her rocker (or off of it, as the case may be...) covered with an Afghan (hopefully not one who is too heavy) sipping tea (brewed for her by a volunteer from The Tea Party...not!)
"YOU ARE KILLING MY MOTHER" has a certain resonance, a certain ring, a certain je ne sais quoi...
It is all marketing my friends. It is all about image. The Republicans call Obama's legislation "Death Panels" and they get away with it.
All the Democrats have to say is "YOU ARE KILLING MY MOTHER", five times, but not too fast, and Presto! The Republicans lose the debate.
After all, everybody's got a mother. Some have two. Mom. Apple pie, etc. Isn't that what this country is built on, what it's all about? "The American Way?"
Mess with my mother (or father in the case of George W. Bush...See: Saddam Hussein) and I will pull your heart out with my bare hands and put it where the sun don't shine after I've eaten half of it and shoved some of it in your face as you die a horrible agonizing death (got a bit carried away there...sorry..."The American Way" rearing it's ugly head...)!
To the Republicans, sensible, fair health care reform equals "Death Panels."
To the Democrats it should mean "YOU ARE KILLING MY MOTHER!"
If they adopt that slogan they might just prevail. Otherwise Mommy Dearest will be living in our living room on a fold out couch watching endless reruns of Lawrence Welk and farting.
In retrospect maybe "Death Panels" ain't so bad.
Just kidding Mom...
Human Nature
JFK, RFK, King, Oklahoma City, 9/11, Virginia Tech, Tucson.
These are events that have been seared into the nation's collective memory.
"Where were you when Kennedy was shot?"
"Remember the morning of 9/11?"
"She was only 9 years old."
We are shocked and angry and for about thirty seconds we are all one people, united in our grief.
But then comes second number thirty one.
Business as usual. It's yesterday's news. Literally. Already, today, we are talking about Tunisia and Steve Jobs and the ubiquitous Sarah Palin.
Tucson happened. We screamed. The echoes died down. We're back at Starbucks schmoozing about Oprah's "revealing" perfrormance on Piers Morgan.
It's human nature.
And because of that nothing will change. We always clamor for change in the wake of a national tragedy. But nothing ever really changes. (See: Burt Reynolds at the end of "The End"...)
We were torn apart by Vietnam but now we have not one but two wars. Maybe that's because the population of the US in 1967 was 198,712,000 people. Now it's over 308,400,000. I guess we need two wars just to break even.
We really didn't seem to learn anything from our experience in Southeast Asia. If we had, maybe we wouldn't have been so quick to rush into Afghanistan and then Iraq, despite the alleged terrorist threat.
We just revert to yesterday's behavior. Yesterday it was sunny and we didn't need an umbrella, didn't even own one. Today it rained torrentially. We got soaked and swore up and down that we'd get an umbrella...and we did...actually three. Then we put them in the closet and completely forgot we had them. More to the point, it was too difficult to go get them because they were buried under all of the other junk that had piled up over the years. Then, a few days later, it rained again and we got soaked again and we swore up and down that we'd get an umbrella...and we did...this time 5.
Etc.
We have very short memories. And we don't seem to want to change. We argue and yell and scream at each other and hunker down into our positions and become hardened to the other guy's point of view. We're right, they're wrong and they can go to hell...literally...and if they keep talking we just might help them get there sooner than then they expected...by force if necessary...which , of course, is the hallowed "American Way."
Read Stanley Fish and Bob Herbert in Today's New York Times. Fish on Palin and Herbert on guns. Opposing points of view well written and cogent. Calls to action.
But we won't read them, collectively, as a country. Liberals will listen to liberals and conservatives will listen to conservatives and we will go deeper and deeper into the morass of devolution.
The anger will continue and the rhetoric will be darker and more venomous with no end in sight.
Folks in Tucson have been flooding gun stores to buy more weapons and ammunition.
It seems to me that that response is exactly wrong. It was a gun and ammunition that caused the problem. And it was in the hands of a lunatic who thought the answer to his problems was to kill somebody. And that comes from the language of our culture and the celebration of violence exalted by our media, entertainment and politicians.
Gun sights as a campaign graphic? No apologies for the obvious, resultant action?
As Yogi famously said, "It ain't over 'til it's over."
Well, my friends, I hate to be the first to tell you this, but I think it's...
These are events that have been seared into the nation's collective memory.
"Where were you when Kennedy was shot?"
"Remember the morning of 9/11?"
"She was only 9 years old."
We are shocked and angry and for about thirty seconds we are all one people, united in our grief.
But then comes second number thirty one.
Business as usual. It's yesterday's news. Literally. Already, today, we are talking about Tunisia and Steve Jobs and the ubiquitous Sarah Palin.
Tucson happened. We screamed. The echoes died down. We're back at Starbucks schmoozing about Oprah's "revealing" perfrormance on Piers Morgan.
It's human nature.
And because of that nothing will change. We always clamor for change in the wake of a national tragedy. But nothing ever really changes. (See: Burt Reynolds at the end of "The End"...)
We were torn apart by Vietnam but now we have not one but two wars. Maybe that's because the population of the US in 1967 was 198,712,000 people. Now it's over 308,400,000. I guess we need two wars just to break even.
We really didn't seem to learn anything from our experience in Southeast Asia. If we had, maybe we wouldn't have been so quick to rush into Afghanistan and then Iraq, despite the alleged terrorist threat.
We just revert to yesterday's behavior. Yesterday it was sunny and we didn't need an umbrella, didn't even own one. Today it rained torrentially. We got soaked and swore up and down that we'd get an umbrella...and we did...actually three. Then we put them in the closet and completely forgot we had them. More to the point, it was too difficult to go get them because they were buried under all of the other junk that had piled up over the years. Then, a few days later, it rained again and we got soaked again and we swore up and down that we'd get an umbrella...and we did...this time 5.
Etc.
We have very short memories. And we don't seem to want to change. We argue and yell and scream at each other and hunker down into our positions and become hardened to the other guy's point of view. We're right, they're wrong and they can go to hell...literally...and if they keep talking we just might help them get there sooner than then they expected...by force if necessary...which , of course, is the hallowed "American Way."
Read Stanley Fish and Bob Herbert in Today's New York Times. Fish on Palin and Herbert on guns. Opposing points of view well written and cogent. Calls to action.
But we won't read them, collectively, as a country. Liberals will listen to liberals and conservatives will listen to conservatives and we will go deeper and deeper into the morass of devolution.
The anger will continue and the rhetoric will be darker and more venomous with no end in sight.
Folks in Tucson have been flooding gun stores to buy more weapons and ammunition.
It seems to me that that response is exactly wrong. It was a gun and ammunition that caused the problem. And it was in the hands of a lunatic who thought the answer to his problems was to kill somebody. And that comes from the language of our culture and the celebration of violence exalted by our media, entertainment and politicians.
Gun sights as a campaign graphic? No apologies for the obvious, resultant action?
As Yogi famously said, "It ain't over 'til it's over."
Well, my friends, I hate to be the first to tell you this, but I think it's...
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