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| quiz time.... |
| 10.29.05 (2:54 pm) [edit] |
Hey all...Gone for a day or two... I'll leave you with some questions: If there are six people walking down the street, all adults, and of whom you've seen before, but none of whom you know well, if at all. Assuming three are men and three are women, two are white, two are black, one is Asian and one is Hispanic... How many of them are likely to be natives to the area? (5) How many are likely to have lived in the same home for more than ten years? (2) Five years? (3) One year? (4.5 - yeah, I know, now we're splitting people) How many are likely to have voted more than once in the last four years in any election? (1) How many are likely to earn no more than twice the minimum wage? (2) How many are likely to have been married more than once? (2) How many are likely to have more than two children? (2) How many will likely be dead in ten years? (2) Have fun, and be good to everyone. I'll give you the results Monday or Tuesday. |
| amazing... but not surprising |
| 10.29.05 (5:22 am) [edit] |
|
Good morning Boys and Girls! Well... I've been listening to Cspan this morning. The glassy-eyed folks are still rubbing there eyes. The consensus comments of callers supporting the President's cabal seem to be that since no indictment regarding the actual "outing" was returned by Special Prosecutor Pat Fitzgerald and the Grand Jury, that this was just a tiny little minor infraction... and that somehow, it's still Joe Wilson's fault that his wife was outed as an undercover CIA agent. Had he kept his mouth shut, and not criticized the president's plot, none of this would have happened. Oh, and of course, there's their further assertion that she (Valerie Plame) wasn't "officially" undercover... It's maddening, but not unexpected. So what if Fitzgerald made it very clear that getting to the truth is impossible when the subpoenaed witnesses lie? So what if the MOST USEFUL undercover agents working for the CIA are USUALLY "unofficially" undercover to enable the agents to remain safer, longer, while carrying out their tasks? So what if the very fact that Scooter Libby lied means that there was something worth hiding regarding his, and his bosses, actions? Since we now know for a fact that Cheney too was involved in this, what are the chances that Bush himself was kept in the dark? Think it through. If Bush wasn't up on this situation, it's proof that Cheney and Rove do, in fact, run the White House and deliberately keep Bush out of the loop meaning it's proof that they, at least, consider him a most incompetent boob, and worse, a fool who has no interest in simply demanding the truth from his underlings. Remember Bush's speeches regarding this matter? Why not simply call these guys into the Oval Office and tell them that they'd better tell him everything, and right this instant, or they'll be out on their asses? I'll tell you why: Because George Bush is a weak man, afraid to take on the job he's been elected to without the puppet-masters who put him on the stage. Remember? It was only a couple of months ago that he was talking about not allowing even the whiff of scandal to grace his White House. But, unfortunately, apparently that was just another in about as long a line of perfectly polished lies that I can ever remember. Be good to everyone. (Sometimes this close is hard to type...) |
| the Captured Raptured |
| 10.28.05 (6:13 am) [edit] |
|
Good morning Boys and Girls! It's spoooooky out there. Indictments, Withdrawals and War. Oh my! Indictments, Withdrawals and War. Oh my! ...and then, as they walk away from the camera arm in arm on the smoking pavement, a Hurricane force wind begins to blow and Scooter Libby falls to his knees and grabs Harriet Miers' skirt and, crying, wails, his tail wagging furiously while Cheney (The Bionic) sneers in disgust, "I do believe in special prosecutors, I do believe in special prosecutors, I do believe in special prosecutors," ...and the camera pans back to the umteenth storm of the year brewing off to the west, obscuring the golden city of Neo-Con crystal. A field of snow like cocaine is making the lap-dog George yip with excitement and he jumps out of Mier's arms to run up ahead to sniff - or snort - up the bonanza. New oil wells dot the landscape of what had always been a pristine landscape.... Eventually, they arrive at the walled city. They bang on the door. "Let us in! We must see The Great Rove!" "Go away, the guard says, peeking out through a tiny window in the huge door, Rove The Great is too busy defending himself to help you these days. Go AWAYYYYY!" Cheney flashes his ID card at the guard while glaring at Libby, and the guard, who bears a striking resemblance to Rove, finally relents and releases the catch on the huge door, and creaking on it's hinges, it swings open. "Is that little dog the one called "George?" the guard asks as they pass him. They start to walk inside, ignoring his question, then he demands, "Hey, what's the password?" "Global warming is a scam." Cheney growls as he swaggers by. Inside the crowded city, everyone is dressed in Halloween costumes and skittering about - but upon closer inspection, they're not really halloween costumes at all, they're prison uniforms, all with little "supplied by Haliburton" tags on the back... Discordant music comes up.... and suddenly, the silhouette of the Fox news logo glows like the Bat signal on all the high walled surfaces of the enclosed city - the beams crisscrossing - then, in unison, all the citizens of Neo-Con City begin to mumble in a slow monotone chant, as though mesmerized by the words they repeat over and over... "We believe in prayer in School Abortion's always very cruel Evolution's just a line We drink intelli-gent design We don't care what other's think'd Saddam and 9-11's linked We will lie and cheat to fight 'Cuz we know that it's might makes right We chant this, so we believe Whatever we're told, no reprieve Jesus soon will kill all foes When that occurs, away we'll go" And they repeat this over and over and over, so wrapped in the mantra that they lose the capability to see the foolishness of their ways. They repeat it, in fact, till they all believe it firmly, just as The Great Rove and his minions, who have granted him his power, have been planning it for the better part of twenty years.... Be good to everyone |
| Fairmoon's on the radio |
| 10.27.05 (12:10 am) [edit] |
|
http://www.thebeat.com Listen to fairmoon on the radio this morning. Not sure what time but she's out west so figure the time difference from wherever you are. Listen up. http://www.thebeat.com" title="http://www.thebeat.com" target="_blank"http://www.thebeat.com |
| Let's get it right... and move on |
| 10.26.05 (5:32 am) [edit] |
|
Good morning Boys and Girls! surrogate here. So, yesterday we hit the "2000 American Deaths" in Iraq milestone. May God forgive us. Along with these deaths, let's remember the 12,000 to 40,000 plus injured and and the countless deaths of Iraqi citizens and soldiers - as well as the the many deaths that will occur in the future both in Iraq and around the world that will be a direct result of our bad decision making. I'm one who believes (read: knows) that this fiasco has made America less secure if for no other reason than that, in the event of future conflicts, many nations that, in the past, would have jumped to our aid, will now give a great deal more thought to whether they want to be involved with a country that would go about business the way we have over the past three and a half years. This morning I've read some commentaries written by people who ostensibly "blame" the left and some of its colorful characters (like Howard Dean, Cindy Sheehan and Al Franken) for dividing the country, as though if no one spoke out against this war, it would somehow be justified. This is the same type of thinking that caused many folks to applaud the arrest of Rosa Parks forty-eight years ago for refusing to move to the back of the bus because at the time, "it was the law!" The prism's surface isn't that cloudy. Right and wrong are clear concepts. I know there are many good people out there who, rather than thinking of this war in terms of "right and wrong" prefer to think of this as a prime example of the ends justifying the means: Since Saddam was a bad guy, nothing we could do to him and the land and people he controlled could be any worse than leaving him in power, and if we can nudge Iraq toward a representative Democracy, then anything goes. It's an understandable way to rationalize the situation. But it's wrong nevertheless. This is not a guess. We will deal with the aftermath of our own rationalizations for generations. And to the extent that we deserve that fate, perhaps, let's realize it sooner rather than later, mitigate our wrongdoing by changing this failed policy as soon as possible, and get on with life. Now would be good. Be good to everyone. |
| 2000 and counting |
| 10.25.05 (6:29 pm) [edit] |
|
This is a good list of the American soldiers killed in Iraq. http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2003/iraq/fo rces/casualties/" title="http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2003/iraq/fo rces/casualties/" target="_blank"http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2... |
| make it so... |
| 10.25.05 (5:09 am) [edit] |
|
Good morning Boys and Girls! Okay. Here we go. It's 7:35 a.m. and I'm giving myself twenty minutes to write this post. This means I won't have time to be clever or cute. I'll just have to say whatever it is I want to say in a concise manner without any witty asides or extemporaneous gibberish. I'll have to step up to the plate and slam my point out there with a single crashing blow. In fact, after I get up here in a sec to pour another cup of liquid life - (with a half-a-teaspoon of sugar and a little half 'n half), why I'll have to say something profound and brilliant in so few words that the impact may be absolutely... um... impactful! Ah. Got my coffee. Man, it's hot. Maybe I'd better let it cool a sec. There. 7:43 Okay. Now I've stretched my fingers correctly (interlaced - palms out and elbows straightened), my chair is adjusted just so, and my keyboard is tilted the way I like it, with the little peg thingies up to angle it toward me just a bit. It's a little cold in here. I think I'll turn on the little electric fan heater I keep here on the desk to augment the furnace on these chilly mornings. But, it can't be aimed right at me or it gets hot too soon. There. 7:48 Oh man, now the coffee is just perfect. You can't believe how good it tastes! Damn. I gulped it down. One more cup maybe... I should really eat something. I'll just throw an english muffin in the toaster and then while it's cooking, my mind will be perfectly clear and I'll be able to zip something off in no time. Oh yeah, and I bought some great marmalade at a health food store last week. It's really tart, that'll be perfect on it. Mmmm. 7:52 You should smell it cooking. Proof of God to me; the way we're allowed to enjoy such simple things. Hope I turned the toaster setting dark enough. If I don't, and it pops up too soon, I can't ever seem to get it right when I push down the lever a second time. Either it pops up again right away, or I end up burning it a bit. Let's see... I don't have to be at work till about 9:00 and I know I have to run around and pick up a check and a couple of other things later today, but... Maybe I should eat first, then shower, and then try to write a post? 7:57 What was I going to try to say today anyway? Oh. I know. Be good to everyone! |
| Bright white smiles |
| 10.22.05 (5:02 pm) [edit] |
|
Good evening Boys and Girls! Just had a "nice" dinner. Too much coffee, a ridiculously rich desert ordered but not eaten, and some conversation with Jesus and a friend of his I'd never met before, though he'd told me about the guy enough times that I felt like I knew him from the moment we were introduced and he did the "two hand" handshake thing. "Gee it's good to meet you." he said, smiling a little too brightly while still sounding pretty darn sincere, pumping my hand up and down in an exaggerated fashion. "Jesus has told me sooo much about you. I looked toward Jesus, who was already seated and opening a menu, scrunching up my eyebrows questioningly. He just half shrugged and smiled, embarrassed a little I think by it becoming so instantly clear to me that he'd talked about me to this fellow as much as he'd talked to me about him. "He has, has he?" I said as I retrieved my hand from the fellow and took my seat. "Sure has! He's told me all about what you're doing, why you're doing it and how, you'd sworn you never do it anymore... all that stuff!" "Great." I said, glaring across the table at my "friend." "What's good here?" Jesus asked, thumbing through the menu now avoiding my eyes altogether. "Everything!" said this guy, obviously the place was his choice as Jesus and I tend to go to cheap places, "You'll love whatever you order; I swear it. The prime rib is to die for." "Prime Rib?" I said. "I was thinking a big salad." "Oh. Good choice. Try the Asian Chicken Sesame Salad! It's phenomenal!" This guy was over the top. "So." I began, having decided on what looked like a Greek Salad from the ingredients list though they called it something high handed. Then, sliding my menu over. "Your Jesus' Republican friend." "Sure am! I'm a true believer! Old time G.O.P. Jesus doesn't play favorites, do ya Jesus?" "No. Of course not. How's the Salmon?" "Like butter." This guy said, stretching the word butter into three and a half syllables. I asked him. "What is it about the Republican party that attracts you so?" "Well, I think people ought to be able to live their lives without a lot of government interference, unless they're Gay. "Excuse me?" but he'd plunged on, "I'm a businessman. Taxes are always too high whenever Democrats are in charge. Plus, to me, I think deficit spending is abominable. Plus, there's the whole abortion thing, and like i said before, the gay thing." He shook his head while scooping up a dinner roll and in one move stuffed the whole thing into his mouth. "But, this administration has run up a the largest deficit this country has ever seen? And in just five years?" "Yeah, but 9-11 changed everything." He said, although since he was chewing at the time, it wasn't said quite as clearly as I've transcribed it. "The old rules don't apply any more. We've got to wipe out terrorism and fast. Ever since Saddam attacked the World Trade Center and forced us to go to war with him, the economy just hasn't been the same. Thank goodness for those tax cuts president Bush gave us. If he hadn't done that, why I don't know what we'd have done. Pass the butter please." I looked at Jesus incredulously. As he passed the butter plate, he gave me a "don't get me into this" look and said, "Don't eat too many rolls; not if the food is as good as you say it is." I said to the guy, "Saddam didn't attack us. How can you still believe that?" The guy chuckled knowingly. "You've been reading all that left wing clap-trap, haven't you? It was Saddam alright.... This went on for an hour. I ate three bites of my salad. Jesus, on the other hand, wouldn't get involved in the discussion at all. I was steamed. The other guy, even after an hour couldn't understand why I didn't "get it." This war's a brilliant strategy... keeping the war "over there." "We haven't had another major attack, have we?" He asked repeatedly. He talked about how the left wing press was orchestrating the charges against Delay, how it had been a reporter who leaked the name to the prosecutor in Dallas. I tried to tell him he was confusing cases... to no avail. He talked about how the French are pussies. That Kerry had been a traitor. That Roe vs. Wade was proof that the Supreme Court is a tool of the left. Finally, I couldn't take it. I said I was feeling ill, left money for my portion of the check and left as politely as I could muster. A half hour later Jesus called me. "Well surrogate. You were a bit of an ass." Me? "Me! Me? That guy was a stone fool! And," but he cut me off. "Yeah. You." "How?" "Because you felt superior." "Jesus, that guy is, is... "the problem" personified" "So?" "So, it pissed me off!" "You forgot your own dictum. It's way more important than how smart you think you are." "You mean?" "Exactly. Be good..." "to everybody." We finished saying it together, and I shook my head stupidly. |
| do you swear, swear, swear, swear... to tell the truth? |
| 10.20.05 (2:00 am) [edit] |
|
Good evening Boys and Girls! Each day over the past couple of weeks, I've checked the old "hot blogs" list, and been surprised to see this blog climbing in the rankings. The number of "clicks" was certainly higher than I'd seen previously, but the number of comments has significantly diminished, indicating to me that something was amiss. Knew I'd been writing less seriously - and on topics that would not necessarily "google" all that well - so I assumed someone's playing around and simply clicking on my blog repeatedly to make it look as though there are more readers than actually take the time to come to the blog. This morning I'm off the hot blogs list altogether... weird, but probably accurate. Maybe tBlog has a way of figuring out if "clicks" are real. Hope so, actually. I'm awaiting the indictments in the Valerie Plame thing. I'm anxious to find out what the Grand Jury has decided to do. I'm one of those who thinks the only way there will be any real accountability in this administration for the crap they seem to get away with each day using back slaps, hand shakes and happy talk, is if a bunch of citizens given the sort of power a Grand Jury has, decides to pierce its tough shiny hide with diligent and repeated questioning of the people involved. I was talking to a friend in the legal field last week who said that being called back to testify before a Grand Jury even a second time is extremely rare. Four times, as Karl Rove has, is probably unprecedented. Who knows. All I do know is that the supporters, even smart ones, seem glassy-eyed nodders to me, and therefore very hesitant to question even what appear to be the most egregious breaches of national trust. Evidently lying about a blow-job is still far more serious than lying (daily, continuously, with fervor 'n furrowed brow) about matters of national security, where the lies told make us all less secure and will for generations to come. The extrapolation is SO easy. Perhaps I'll do some tomorrow. I'll never understand it. Be good to everyone. |
| let your fingers do the clawing.... |
| 10.18.05 (5:07 pm) [edit] |
|
Good evening Boys and Girls! I'm going to tell a business story today. Recently I came back from Florida after running a cool wood-shop where I designed and made exceptionally cool Playhouses and A product called a Rolling Swing Glider. Our business took off fairly quickly and after about six months I, along with a couple of my key employees (okay, my ONLY employees) decided to take the plunge and place yellow pages ads in every single Yellow Pages (from the "big" phone company) from Miami up to Jupiter. It was a big commitment. We signed the contract three weeks before the deadline. We designed the adds well, and were confident that it would give us the kick we needed to become a larger company. The phone books came out about three months later. No ads. Nada. Plus, our regular listing wasn't there in the white pages. Turned out the saleslady keyed in the wrong spelling into the computer, and the computer did two things. First, it rejected the ads and the listing because there was no account with the spelling the way she typed it in. Secondly, instantly, it generated an automatic email to the salesperson telling her that there had been an error. In three weeks she never checked her email, or at least, she didn't check that one, or if she did, she didn't respond to it in any way. I found all this out over the course of about six weeks of talking to the people at "the big phone company" as well as finding out, of course that the salesperson who screwed up was no longer there. So... No ads, and worse, no LISTING. Then, the hurricanes. We had huge orders cancelled... understandably, actually. And the phone stopped ringing. For months. About three months later I started receiving bills from the Yellow Pages. I was a tad upset. Calls calls calls... Letters, letters, letters... "Oh, well. Read your contract. We're not responsible if the ads don't run. Any loss of business is not our responsibility." Nothing. But then? The collection letters started, as well as a new bill every month for the ads they hadn't run... Then the calls... daily. New person every day... Had to retell the whole story every day... Eventually, every day, after a twenty or thirty minute conversation, the person caller form the company would apologize and promise they'd take care of it. Next day? Another call. Different person. No clue about any previous conversation with other people from the company. "Have you contacted us in writing?" Standard question. "Of course. Filled out the proper forms, written other letters, talked to "x" person. Please take me off the list... PLEASE. Nothing is owed, you didn't run the ads." Standard answer. Dozens of times this took place... Every day for months. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat ad infinitum... Finally, three months later, I got a call from the head of advertising, apologizing profusely and telling me they'd finally figured out the problem and offered me free advertising next year... (this year.) I was in the process of closing down the business. I laughed. But, at least, finally, the bills, the letters and the phone calls stopped. Then? Today, over a year later, a collection agency called. "Why haven't you paid the bill for the Yellow Pages advertising? You owe for the whole year." (Many thousands of dollars.) I just laughed. (This is growth - since I wanted to scream.) Be good to everyone. http://humor.about.com/gi/dynamic/offsite.htm?site=http" title="http://humor.about.com/gi/dynamic/offsite.htm?site=http" target="_blank"http://humor.about.com/gi/dyn...://lab.jibjab.com/Movies/BoxMart.aspx Play the video here if you would |
| Phone call... |
| 10.15.05 (8:31 pm) [edit] |
|
Good evening Boys and Girls! I'll be gone for a day or two and so won't be able to post till Tuesday night or Wednesday morning. I was planning on writing something warm and fuzzy tonight. Then guess who called. Yep. Two weeks, not a word, and then, Bam, eight o'clock on a Saturday evening and Jesus wants to bend my ear. How can you say no? So what if I was enjoying a relaxing evening with my mind on the movie I was in the middle of watching... "Hey, how are ya?" "Good Jesus. You?" "Fine. You busy?" "Um.. (clicked off the T.V.) Nope. Not now. Where are you?" "South of Baghdad. It's hot." "Iraq?" "Yep. Watching the vote count." "No shi*?... Wow. Good cell phone. You sound like you're next door." "Satellite phone. It's got GPS on it too. Want to know my exact coordinates?" "No. Not really. So how is it going over there? Big turnout? Geez, what time is it there?" "Early Sunday morning. Yeah... Seems like a lot of people voted... around here anyway." "Can you tell how it's going?" "(chuckle) Well, not really. Doesn't matter anyway." "Doesn't matter? How's that?" "Well, either the constitution gets adopted, in which case, all the people who were against even having the vote, based on the inequity of the way it's written as far as they're concerned, will be so upset that they won't recognize it at all anyway, or it gets rejected and the whole process starts over in a couple of months." "Yeah. that's sort of what they've been saying on the news. So... what's the point?' "(chuckling again) Come on surrogate; you know what "the point" is. "The point" is to make it look like there's tangible progress with regards to having the Iraqis govern themselves. "The point" is to make it look like this war has moved the country in the right direction." 'Um... you don't sound like you think it's working." "Well, I don't. A constitution is only valuable if an overwhelming majority of the population of a country respects it's validity and authority. It's not like "oh the constitution was adopted by a 55 percent to 45 percent vote" and that's it. No. There will be more conflict created by rushing this process than by just letting the people here figure it out for themselves. Plus, let's face it, unless this country breaks up, which is also possible, it's going to be a theocracy based on a fairly radical interpretation of Islamic Law... sort of like if Ralph Reed, Pat Robertson, James Dobson and Jerry Falwell and got together to write and enforce a new "Christian" constitution for the U.S. You know... They'd fight amongst themselves some, as far as verbiage, but in the end, you pretty much know what you'd end up with." "Holy moly, Jesus. That's crazy. You're always telling me how those guys just don't get it... and it's the same type of extremist Muslims who will rule the roost over there?" "Looks like it. Scary huh?" "And yet the U.S. supported this whole idea?" "Supported? surrogate, the U.S. has orchestrated this whole thing! And they have NO IDEA what they're doing. It's like... well, imagine the first skill you teach a little kid is how to make dynamite - a fairly easy thing to do, really. So the kid learns how and now you can brag to everyone what a good learner the kid is..." "But how is that relevant? I don't get it." "Well, aside from the fact that this too could blow up in everyones face, and is likely to, actually, my point was that a constitutional Democracy is fragile and can be dangerous, especially when there are so many factions... Heck, even the U.S. constitution wasn't written two seconds after the Declaration of Independence. They didn't rush it. It was YEARS later; thought through for years and years - and yet it's been amended how many times?" "A bunch. (my phone beeped... another call... and it was my daughter.) Oh... sorry Jesus... Got to go. Call me tomorrow." "Okay, I'll try. Say Hi to Andrea." "Okay. Hey... How did you know...? But he'd clicked off. Be good to everyone. |
| sex1orwhatever1whocares1justclick |
| 10.15.05 (6:00 am) [edit] |
|
Good morning... Just a thought. Rocky seems to be gone, right? This moron who posts "boys1girls1cats1dogs1" is allowed to completely screw with the server by posting a thousand times a day, right? And no one seems to be doing anything about it. Maybe whoever either bought, or is in charge of tBlog, is the very person using it for this purpose. I'm not sure how it works, but obviously it has something to do with getting paid "per click." Whoever is doing this crap has figured out a way to tie all these fake posts to whatever deal he or she has cooked up for themselves with some hidden link so that when you click on any of these posts, (which I do every now and again just to make sure they're still fake - as do a lot of us, I'd bet) they get paid for us clicking on whatever the real object of the "pay per click" scam is. If I'm wrong, please explain it to me. Don't care about being right. I care about eventually figuring out a way to stop this. I think the "recent blogs" list should be done away with. The fact that it hasn't been by now, fuels my belief that this is being done by the people in charge. Am I nuts? Be good to everyone. |
| "Everything is just hunky-dory sir." |
| 10.14.05 (4:56 am) [edit] |
|
Good morning Boys and Girls. I've been up an hour and started this entry three times so far. I'm afraid to write what's really on my mind. That... is unusual. Making enemies isn't my goal here, but sometimes when I write about politics, it pisses people off, which I'm aware of on my own, and which I've been told by readers. And so, sometimes for weeks at a time, I've "softened" the blog - sometimes anyway, almost without my realizing it - in order to sound friendly and helpful; certainly not an especially bad thing, since sounding strident and whiney doesn't get you anywhere, and you end up just preaching to the choir, while everyone else simply tunes you out. But.. Damn. How can I not write about that fiasco yesterday? Did you see it? Or hear it? There's President Bush having a little chat with some of the folks in the army over there (this group of soldiers were some of the folks in charge of trying to get the Iraqis to take over the fighting themselves), ostensibly to "find out how things are going." It's a live question and answer session via satellite, so the president can learn, along with the viewers, the latest skinny on the process. Unfortunately for the Bush team, the cameras and mikes were on ahead of time, and you can hear the whole rehearsal process including what is to happen if the president happens to ask about something that "isn't scripted." Every question, as well as the answers (provided by the White House, by the way; not the Army) was scripted right down to the clever asides - which bombed, by the way, and was a fraud as far as providing anything resembling new insight; touted as it's sole purpose by the administration. A little like going to the doctor and him giving you a list of answers for the questions he wants to ask you. You've come because of an ankle sprain. Doctor: "How's the ankle? You: "It hurts like.." Doctor: (glaring over his half glasses and pointing at the sheet in your hands...) "HOW... IS... THE ANKLE?" You: "Um.." (looking at your cheat-sheet...) "It's just fine sir??" Doctor: "Good. Pay up front and call me in two weeks." (He turns on his heels and leaves the room.) The whole thing is... May I use the term "sick making?" I won't put a link here to the video footage, or the audio of the "pre-show." You can find it in ten seconds if you look for it. Wonder how long it will take for the apologists to say that, (a.) the audio is fake, or (b.) "Of course it's scripted. Those sorts of things always are and always have been." Amazing. Be good to everyone. |
| We didn't start the fire.... |
| 10.12.05 (7:19 pm) [edit] |
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Good evening Boys and Girls... So, this morning I was listening to a radio talk show while I was working. The topic was "Should the F.B.I. relax standards as far as hiring people who've done drugs more than what their previous standards allow" (smoked pot in the last ten years, or more than fifteen times in their lives... and similar, if stronger, rules regarding other, harder drugs) and the callers were giving their opinions. Evidently it's been a frustration for the F.B.I. since their rules are tougher than other departments within the government, and there have been many occurrences where they wanted to hire certain people, some of whom had had top-secret clearances with organizations like the C.I.A. but they couldn't because the candidates had admitted drug use beyond the F.B.I guidelines. I'm not writing this to give an opinion on whether they should loosen things up. I'm writing this because of some of the the absolutely ridiculous things I heard from some of the Bushies who called in. This one cop called in to say he thought that NO ONE who's done drugs should ever work in law enforcement. The host asked if someone should be allowed to be President if they've done drugs. "NO WAY!" said the policeman, "CLINTON ADMITTED SMOKING POT. I DON'T CARE WHETHER HE INHALED OR NOT, HE SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO BE PRESIDENT WITH THAT KIND OF BACKGROUND." One of the hosts said, "Well, it's been alleged that President Bush did drugs. Certainly he smoke marijuana, and he's been accused of doing cocaine. Should he be allowed to be President? The cop replied, "THAT'S N E V E R BEEN PROVEN!" I turned of the radio. These people will completely forgive Karl Rove. Even if he's indicted, they'll say he should stay on the job till he's proven guilty in court, and if he's convicted, they'll say the jury was politically motivated. The lies told by this administration? Ignored. I remember Republicans calling the Democrats "Tax and Spend"ers for forty years. They decried the deficit, and blamed all the woes of the country on every Democrat from FDR, to Bill Clinton. If you ask them now about the incredible deficit we've built up during the last five years (which, by the way is the largest amount of money owed by any entity, public or private, in the history of man) they'll tell you it's no big deal. Point out the abuses of the companies run by the people we've elected, and they'll tell you it's just a symptom of a system run amok, and turn their heads when it's suggested that something ought be done about the specific companies in question. I've never seen anything like it. 15 out of 19 of the 9-11 hijackers are Saudis, right? "Saddam, Saddam. Saddam" Osama's still on the loose, right? "Bill Clinton had a chance to get him and he didn't." Tom Delay is indicted... twice, right? "The prosecutor is a political lackey." Bill Frist is under investigation for insider trading, right? "He has every right to protect his investments." Bush said that ANY member of his administration who was involved in ANY way in the Valerie Plame debacle would be immediately removed, right? "He hasn't been convicted of a crime." (yet) On and on and on. And on. Oh, look at the "Cost of the War" ticker up to the right. We passed the 200 billion mark. I was playing with that figure. Let's see, that would be enough to fund the Apollo Space program from the sixties eight times (adjusted for inflation), or buy 20 million people ten thousand dollar cars - or completely fund a twenty year project to allow the U.S. to quit depending on the Oil from the Middle East at all, or oil as our main fuel at all. Saddam is in jail though... so we've got that going for us. Nothing else has been gained that anyone can point to with pride, but, we do have that. Oh, plus those really cool playing cards they were selling for a while, and, I forgot, the magnetic ribbon business is through the roof! Plus, we've got that new term in the language for reporters on the scene... "embedded." Maybe I'm wrong about nothing good having come out of this! I hear the Iraqi mortuary business is just booming! Here too. Be good to everyone. |
| unabashed plug.... |
| 10.11.05 (5:25 am) [edit] |
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Good evening Boys and Girls! surrogate here. I'm going to send everyone to a web site and encourage anyone who likes wonderful music to purchase my kid's band's new C.D. They are very very good. The band is made up of my son Ryan, who plays keys, does vocals and is the principle writer. Now, I don't want to brag more than is expected or necessary, but this is one incredible composer. His musicianship has been developing steadily for about 20 years now, and at 27, he's written scores for three movies, his first solo c.d. - eleven years ago now - and now two c.d.'s with Eyestrings, plus dozens upon dozens of songs, most of which are more than just "fun" to listen to. He was a creative writing major in college, and when I read his lyrics, I sometimes feel I shouldn't bother ever trying to put two sentences together again, because I know I'll never come close to writing lines anywhere near as clever, touching, witty, and sometimes, powerful. Alan, who plays lead guitar and has been a close friend of my son's for at least fifteen years. They've collaborated on projects for over a decade. Alan did a stint in L.A. a few years ago playing with some talented people and studying with some top-notch musicians. Bob, the drummer, may be the most naturally gifted guy in the band. An interesting story about him: My brother's band, Discipline. was and is (they haven't recored a c.d. in six or seven years though my brother just put out a solo c.d. this past April) a highly respected American progressive or "art rock" band. Their music, or HIS music (he's the writer), in some respect's like Eyestrings, is made up of mainly lengthy quasi-symphonically influenced pieces, with lots of unusual time signature and key changes. Great stuff. At one of their gigs, I met this young kid who introduced himself as a drummer. He was good friends with one of the hard-core fans of my brother's band. He was familiar with the music, and said he really loved it. Soon thereafter, the drummer of my brother's band had to cancel out on a few shows for some reason. Bob stepped in after very few rehearsals; two I think it was. He knew the music cold. He'd listened to the albums, learned the music on his own, and he subbed with aplomb. Eyestrings is lucky to have him. The last member of the band, Matt, is like a "surrogate" brother to me. I've known him since he was two or three years old because my Mother baby-sat him when he was a tyke. He grew up putting up with my brother constantly dragging him into the music room to hear whatever little ditty he'd come up with, and after too many years of that, Matt finally took up the bass to be a part of the music - as opposed to being just a captive audience-of-one for my baby brother. Matt was/is Discipline's bass player, as well as being one of the cofounders of Eyestrings. On this album, he cowrote a great piece called "Code of Tripe" along with Ryan. I love this guy. The main tracks for this album "Consumption" were recorded in the Finger Lakes area of New York during the ten days directly after Eyestrings open the Rights of Spring Festival outside of Philadelphia the first weekend of May. From then until just three weeks ago, they've edited and mixed. Many of you know I stayed with my son this past May and most of June upon returning from Florida. Part of what I really loved about being there was being privy to 'the process." They worked so diligently to make this a wonderful thing, and they simply loved doing it. And, it's worth mentioning, as this sort of music is unlikely to ever make them wealthy, they did all of it working around their full-time jobs. Was fun to see. It's not the kind of music you'll hear on the radio very much, though they do get plays on progressive music stations all over the world, and the reviews from their first album "Burdened Hands" were very favorable indeed, but if you let yourself get familiar with the music, (I'd say two or three listens) I doubt whether very many music lovers would not appreciate the quality of the product. Give it a whirl. My only plug all year... I swear. Be good to everyone. Oh yeah.... http://www.eyestrings.com |
| Song of the sun... (poignant, don't you think?) |
| 10.09.05 (7:43 am) [edit] |
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Good morning Boys and Girls! Hear the triplets? Squeaky Pete's playing his three drum kit... dum da dah, dum da da dum da dah, dum da da The boys are ready... I take the stage... Smoke and mike in one hand, "coffee" (sure) in the other... Wink at the boys in the band... Smile at the people... dum da dah, dum da da dum da dah, dum da da "Hello, hello. Good morning to all of you this morning... It's time for a Sunday morning tune for all of you here at the Withering Limbs Retirement Home." dum da dah, dum da da dum da dah, dum da da "As always, you'll recognize the tune of "My Favorite Things." Hum along with me...." dum da dah, dum da da dum da dah, dum Da DAH.... (I spin once and start to sing - leaning toward the audience...) "We're oh so lucky, to be here this morning It's crisp - it's cold out, winter gives warning Now that you're older and your skin's quite thin, you probably spend most of winter-time - "in"... 'Guess you're all thankful, to be here this Sunday It's not that exciting, but perhaps, -a fun-day I hear there's bingo, down in the rec-room And field hockey, played in the hall - with some brooms (chorus) Just be great-ful, that it's warm here, and you're not out-doorrrs Most people who pay, for their own heat this year, Can barely take annnnn-yyyy morrre ...... For years, it was thought, that by now, we'd have listened Alternative energy ideas have been christened But no follow through has, of yet, taken place we stumble along, simply floating through space We stifle creative, solutions folks in-vent No funding for research, on waste, we seem hell-bent So, this year and next year, and years after that, we waste money drilling for earth's erstwhile fat (chorus) There's just so much, underneath us once we've sucked it alllll we'll still have to do, what we ought to do nowww Make use of that big, red ball! Thank God your heat bill's, included with your "rent" (cuz) Skyrocketing prices, in our bills, when they're sent. I can't believe, in two thousand-ought-five we still think it's oil, that keeps us alive (final chorus) You're all old now, that's a giv-en But you know, I'm right. I see you're all nodding. You agree with me. We simply must seize, the lightttttt. Be good to everyone folks. Sip that Ensure slowly now." .............. Wow... I cracked the top ten blogs... except there are two problems... The first is attrition. We've lost so many good bloggers in the last couple of months that it's a lot easier to do now, Plus... it's not real. I know it. I'll get a hundred hits in ten minutes sometimes, then none for an hour.... Either someone's messing by simply clicking my blog a bunch of times in a row, or it's just some bot searching. Either way, it's too bad. I sure wanted to get there eventually, but I also wanted it to be because that many people were reading. |
| No amount of Beano can overcome sauerkraut. |
| 10.08.05 (5:32 am) [edit] |
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Good morning Boys and Girls. Left a window cracked open a tiny bit. Not smart. It is cold in here this morning. My fingers feel like...well, they're cold. Short post, as I also overslept. But first? ...The coffee maker just gurgled it's signal that it's done and ready..... ............ ............ Ah. That's better. Now, I'll try to get into the super-hero suit I have to wear under my clothes... ............ ............ There. See, the transformation of my body from frumpy old guy into svelte secret Super-Surrogate doesn't happen till I've squeezed into this green and yellow thing. Unfortunately, every now and again there's some confusion about the "S.S." on my chest and cape. I seem to have to explain to most people that I'm "Super Surrogate" (dum da da Dahhhh!) and not some aging leftover evil agent of the Gestapo, or from the Presidential Protective Division of the Treasury Department, but rather, a mild mannered, yet fierce Super Hero who's main goal is to deal with bullies of all sorts. Unlike other super-heros, though, I rarely confront anyone I see (unless they're really small and weak bullies) but rather, I bravely pull my cape around in front of me, and make note of the infraction on the dry-erase fabric it's made of, for later use here in this space. One problem I've repeatedly encountered is that, well, they're just aren't the phone booths there used to be, and and many times, when you ask to use a public rest-room in a service station or the like, there's already someone in there, so you have to wait... and wait, tapping your fingers against the wall, rocking impatiently, then noticing that on the Hostess snack-cake display, the Halloween Twinkies are on sale, so you decide to try some - for research - and then when you get back to wait for the the rest-room (now with orange frosting around your mouth and on your fingers), some other guy is standing there waiting too and he doesn't seem to want to hear about how you were already in line just a minute ago.... And by the time you finally get changed in a room recently occupied by someone who obviously didn't know the well known fact that, well, you read the title of the piece, and in the end, the opportunity has passed to do the work you swore to do, when you signed the mission statement in that little ceremony you cooked up in your own basement. Now I've tried simply wearing the suit all day as my outer clothes, but, well, kids can be mean, you know? Even the non-bullies seem to think it's perfectly acceptable to make wise-cracks out the school-bus windows at a guy in a lime-green and yellow spandex and lycra get-up riding down the street in a 94 Labaron convertible with a cape flowing out the back. Geez. Be good to everyone, and report bullies! Sorry... feeling silly this morning. I'll write something a tad more thoughtful when I get back from work. |
| Remembering a show. |
| 10.07.05 (4:45 am) [edit] |
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Good morning Boys and Girls! In the mid-eighties, I wrote comedy for a talented comedian and radio host in Cincinnati. My job, along with a couple of other folks who wrote regularly, was to merge whatever was going on in the news into a few tightly-formated and well-produced recurring bits. Reagan was President and the host did his voice spot-on (as well as doing great impersonations of a bunch of other politicos and celebrities of the day) and we'd place him into situations that generally made for some pretty funny listening. Was a great gig as it entailed reading a few papers every morning over coffee, formulating ideas, and then writing furiously for a couple of hours till I'd go to the studio and we'd record the stuff between 10:00 a.m. and noon. Then things would get edited till 2:00 when the show would go on the air for afternoon drive. Man it was fun. The sidekick was an well-educated and talented erudite young guy who seemed to be slumming in the job he was in, though he was great at it. "Doc" handled things so smoothly, that sometimes you'd forget that he was really producing the show too, though I don't think he held that title. Maybe he didn't want it. Doc's Dad was a friend of Kurt Vonnegut and on a couple of occasions, we were lucky enough to have personal letters from Mr. Vonnegut to his Dad shared with us. Vonnegut has been a hero of mine ever since I'd read Cat's Cradle in some high school English class, and I felt very privileged to be privy to those hand-written letters. Plus, I learned something from them. He was real. His personal letters expressed the same concerns, worries, hopes and loves that he expresses in just about anything I've ever read by him. Even his novels are so easily recognizable as having come from that brilliant warm but certainly cynical voice, that there's never any doubt as to the sincerity of his views. Think that's the one thing I'll keep working at in life. I want to be consistent in my expression. If my views change on a topic, I want to know why they've changed and that they still reflect my underlying values of trying to be loving in a world where that's not always easy to do... and at which I still fail far more often than I succeed. I want to be genuine. Is that dumb? Be good to everyone. |
| Cooler days... |
| 10.06.05 (4:11 pm) [edit] |
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Good evening Boys and Girls! surrogate here. The weather changed today. Last night when I got home, I had to turn the air on for a little while to cool things down. Today I was tempted to turn the heat on. The leaves started turning a couple of weeks ago but until today, I hadn't yet noticed many falling. This has always been my favorite time of year, but the last few years it's been a sort of blurry sign of my own mortality. I find myself wondering how many more autumns I'll enjoy. Oh mind you, I'm not that old a guy, and I'm in decent shape for a middle-aged fuddy-duddy, but, and maybe it started when my Dad died a few years ago, I'm definitely more cognizant of my own life being closer to its end than its beginning. I've talked before about living with loss and my difficulty with it, but sometimes, when I feel the way I feel today, and especially at this time of the year, when there's a rash of birthdays, anniversaries and the like in my family, the melancholy has an almost pleasant burn to it. It's there, but somehow, amid the changing seasons, I'm reminded how much I love this life we're given, and I'm thankful to be experiencing its fullness and varying degrees of satisfaction, desire, disappointment and perhaps most importantly... hope. Don't know what's in store for the rest of my time on this big chunk of dirt, but I do know I'm all done making plans for it. I fill my days well enough and I have a vague idea about some of the things I'd like to have happen down the road, but as far as goals for my life? Nada. And... I find I'm at peace. Be good to everyone. |
| coming up on a year... |
| 10.05.05 (5:37 pm) [edit] |
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Good evening Boys and Girls! It's been close to a year since I started working on this blog. I started it as a response to what I perceived as a usurping of Christianity and "Christian Values" by the extreme right during last year's presidential election. Originally I wrote each post as "Jesus" based on my take of how he prioritized things in his teachings. Mainly it was because, though these seemed to be hot button issues with the right-wing Christians, what I found was that: Jesus never talked about abortion; Jesus never talked about justifiable killing; Jesus never talked about prayer in Schools; Hell, Jesus never even talked about any of the crazy stuff Paul wrote about in Revelations. What Jesus said over and over again was that the most important thing in life is loving; loving God, each other and, AND... our enemies. During the first few months I tried and tried to come up with imaginative ways to stress how very important that last point is, and was, to Jesus. It's funny to me how people who call themselves Christians have forgotten this point. I know SOOO many "Christian" people who've come to believe that Jesus would support the war in Iraq. That Jesus would think it's a-ok to "deal with terrorists over there so we don't have to deal with them over here." I ask this. Please. Show me ONE quote from Jesus that makes you think he'd be accepting of this war. Just one. And when you can't, and if you consider yourself a Christian, please, start holding those other "Christians" we've elected in Washington to be true to the teachings of the guy they say they've committed their lives to. Be good to everyone. |
| Maybe? NOT. |
| 10.04.05 (6:17 pm) [edit] |
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Good evening Boys and Girls! Someone tmailed me to ask if I was a sexist because I always say hello to the Boys before the Girls. I never thought about it, but I'll be damned if I'm going to change it based on that tmail! I don't think I'm sexist, but I AM a bit stubborn! (Maybe tomorrow!) Maybe. I hate the word. In all my life, no word has caused me more wasted time, energy and especially stress, than that stupid little five letter word. I can deal with a yes easy enough, no matter what we're talking about. I can deal with a no. It's easy, final and no less useful a response, really, because you can then move on.... But a maybe, whether you're selling something, or buying something, or waiting for approval for something, or trying to get someone to agree to a project you've asked them to cooperate with... it's the maybes that absolutely mess with your mind. Throughout, my life, in order not to alienate people I've dealt with, I've always respected the "maybes" I've been given; waiting for them to make up their mind, providing whatever they needed to help them decide; Leaving them be to allow whatever it's been to become clearer to them. HUGE mistake. I made a decision a few months ago when I decided to do what I'm doing now, that if I heard a maybe, I'd simply respect their wishes, but I'd take it as a 'no" and act accordingly. Oh how I wish I'd learned this 30 years ago. Sometimes people who say "maybe" decide to do whatever it is and, I'll certainly deal with them if they call, but by and large, there just aren't enough hours in the day to deal with folks capable of making up their minds. Why waste time on those who can't? Well, I haven't been, and I'm feeling so much less pressure than I ever have before, and I think it's showing in my work, and I know it's helping me be a happier, more efficient and obviously, a less stressed-out surrogate. Be good to everyone! Hey, look at the "cost of the war in Iraq" ticker up there to the right... we're almost at the 200 billion mark... Pretty soon it's going to start being some serious bucks. But, we're spreading "freedom...." Oy. |
| Musing |
| 10.03.05 (6:29 pm) [edit] |
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Good evening Boys and Girls! surrogate here from the EAST side of the State (I'm writing tonight from my kids' place.) It's 8:06 p.m. as I begin. It's dark outside and has been for the better part of an hour. Here, we're on the Western edge of the Eastern time zone. Another 150 miles west, and the next one begins. The circumference of the earth is approximately 24,900 miles, and there are twenty four time zones, meaning that at the Equator, each time zone is something over a thousand miles long. I happen to know that where I'm right this minute is almost precisely 235 miles South of the halfway-point between the North Pole and the Equator. There's a sign proclaiming as much exactly five miles North of my Parent's cottage, proudly proclaiming, " THIS SPOT IS EXACTLY HALF-WAY BETWEN THE NORTH POLE AND THE EQUATOR." We'd pass it every time we went to town from the cottage. As a kid, I was in awe of that old weather-beaten sign, though looking back on it, I'm not sure why it made such an impression. Perhaps it was because there atop that pole was a tangible symbol of the incredible size of the planet. Perhaps it was because I'm easily impressed! Who knows. This particular sign sits along the road in the middle of a small flood-plain for Thunder Bay in Lake Huron called Squaw Bay. If you hold your left hand mitten style, back toward you (as we Michiganders always do to point out any specific area of the State), this would be a third of the way down your index finger along the lake. At this point, about six miles South of Alpena, the Road, U.S. 23, is simply a built up causeway across this little seasonally wet inlet. It was standard operating procedure to take a picture of whoever we'd dragged up there smiling and pointing at the sign. And so when one of my friends, Bob, came up for a week or so when I was in High School, I made sure to to have him say "CHEESE" next to that blessed sign. No sooner had we snapped the shot when a good sized bunch of deer bounded across the field at the edge of the grassy bay, just a couple of hundred yards from us. It was no great shakes to me having seen hundreds of deer by then, but my friend had never seen a deer in the wild before, let alone a couple of dozen, and he was mesmerized. The rest of the day, he kept bringing it up joyfully. "Oh man, there ere soooo many, and they were soooo graceful..." It just thrilled him to see wild deer, especially so many... This morning, a fellow pulled into the place I was working to show off the deer he'd killed couple of hours earlier. It was a seven point buck and he'd shot it directly through the heart with his bow from about 20 yards. He was excited and though I didn't know him from Adam, I dutifully went over to look at the kill he had laying across the top of his truck's bed cover. I'm not anti-hunting or anything, and I used to bow-hunt myself as a kid and young adult, but I never got one. Hell, I only got one shot off in all the years I went. For me, it was something to do with my Dad in the fall, and I loved the idea of it, but neither of us ever got one. We weren't all that serious about it I guess. All I know, is today, I'm glad I never got one. At this point in my life, I doubt I'll ever hunt again... This morning, after the guy had showed everyone who would look at his deer, for some reason, I remembered my friend Bob being so excited at seeing all those deer tearing across the field all those years ago, and they joy he got out of it. This guy's joy was every bit as sincere at having shot one... and over the next six weeks in this State alone, there will be a hundred thousand guys just as happy as this fellow was and over half a million having enjoyed the hunt but having to wait till next year to try again... And yeah, I know what a problem too many deer can be... Not really my point... if I have one... No right or wrong here... Not even sure why I'm writing this. Just kept me thinking all day. Be good to everyone. |
Cost of the War in Iraq
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American Deaths in Iraq:
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