(Hat tip to my friend and mentor John Mixon for the unattributed image.)
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Bird Flue Hits The Georgia Coast
Film At Eleven...
(Hat tip to my friend and mentor John Mixon for the unattributed image.)
(Hat tip to my friend and mentor John Mixon for the unattributed image.)
Hu's On First?
I don't know...is on Third
I’ve watched with some amusement as Hu Hintao, the leader ofthe biggest threat to the free world China, was trundled around on his visit to the US this week. Being a communist, of course the media and all of the usual suspects domestic leftists all wet their panties and fell over their own feet fawning over his presence.
I’m surprised that they didn’t haul him to out to Hollywood and down to Disney World in an effort to complete his total experience of American culture, but then I realized that they also didn’t drag his scrawny little Chinese ass down here to Georgia to eat some ham hocks, collard greens, and grits…so a total western infidel experience obviously wasn’t the goal here.
Instead of Disney, they took him over to New Haven, Connecticut to Yale University—home of the Taliban Ivy Leaguer.
As a grand finale, somesilly assed bitch Chinese expatriate managed to provide an embarrassing moment during a joint public appearance with President Bush and of course all of the lamestream media including the NY Times wasted no time blaming the Whitehouse for the gaffe.
Funny thing—the woman got into the event using PRESS CREDENTIALS, so why doesn’t the media take a look at their own ranks and put a little blame on themselves rather than chastising the current administration for the situation?
Well, George W. didn't throw up on President Hu in a manner reminiscent of what his father, Bush 41, did to the Japanese Prime Minister back in 1992. And at least he wasn't caught handing out any cigars of dubious orgin like our old friend Slick Willy Clinton was doing for eight years.
Strangely, according to the press it seems that the success of the entire trip hinged on dinner plans:
The White House decided early on not to call Mr. Hu's trip a state visit, and denied him perquisites like a state dinner. Some China specialists in the United States argued all along that squabbling over such details made no sense because it made the Chinese much less inclined to offer concessions on bigger issues.
"If we had given him a state dinner, could we have avoided some of this and gotten more from the Chinese?" said Stephen A. Orlins, president of the National Committee on U.S.-China Relations. "I disagree with the government's decision not to offer the Chinese the protocol they were seeking."
Even so, White House officials, members of Congress and independent analysts said the issue could easily be exaggerated. The visit allowed government officials, legislators and business executives to interact with the Chinese leader face to face for the first time, and the discussions were generally positive, if inconclusive.
International, diplomacy, all hanging on the availability of a Steak dinner.
Imagine that...
Who knew?
I hate that this has happened, and being a good, patriotic American, I wish that they’d just called me down here on the Georgia coast and asked me to help out in this area. I would have been happy to have helped solve their dilemma.
I would have been happy to have President Hu and his entourage meet me at our local Crakerbarrel Restaurant or Ryan’s Steak house.
My treat.
President Hu and his body guards could have had the all you can eat salad bar or the four vegetable plate or something to whet their little slant eyed appetites.
Or perhaps the Chinese president would have preferred to have done a little fishing and crabbing with me and a couple of the local boys out in the Glynn county marshes, then brought our catch back here to the condo where I could show him how to make home made tarter and cocktail sauces.
Hey Hu, please pass the catsup...
Or in the words of Mick jagger...Hey Hu, get off of my cloud...
(I'm such an insensitive pig, aren't I?)
I’ve watched with some amusement as Hu Hintao, the leader of
I’m surprised that they didn’t haul him to out to Hollywood and down to Disney World in an effort to complete his total experience of American culture, but then I realized that they also didn’t drag his scrawny little Chinese ass down here to Georgia to eat some ham hocks, collard greens, and grits…so a total western infidel experience obviously wasn’t the goal here.
Instead of Disney, they took him over to New Haven, Connecticut to Yale University—home of the Taliban Ivy Leaguer.
As a grand finale, some
Funny thing—the woman got into the event using PRESS CREDENTIALS, so why doesn’t the media take a look at their own ranks and put a little blame on themselves rather than chastising the current administration for the situation?
Well, George W. didn't throw up on President Hu in a manner reminiscent of what his father, Bush 41, did to the Japanese Prime Minister back in 1992. And at least he wasn't caught handing out any cigars of dubious orgin like our old friend Slick Willy Clinton was doing for eight years.
Strangely, according to the press it seems that the success of the entire trip hinged on dinner plans:
The White House decided early on not to call Mr. Hu's trip a state visit, and denied him perquisites like a state dinner. Some China specialists in the United States argued all along that squabbling over such details made no sense because it made the Chinese much less inclined to offer concessions on bigger issues.
"If we had given him a state dinner, could we have avoided some of this and gotten more from the Chinese?" said Stephen A. Orlins, president of the National Committee on U.S.-China Relations. "I disagree with the government's decision not to offer the Chinese the protocol they were seeking."
Even so, White House officials, members of Congress and independent analysts said the issue could easily be exaggerated. The visit allowed government officials, legislators and business executives to interact with the Chinese leader face to face for the first time, and the discussions were generally positive, if inconclusive.
International, diplomacy, all hanging on the availability of a Steak dinner.
Imagine that...
Who knew?
I hate that this has happened, and being a good, patriotic American, I wish that they’d just called me down here on the Georgia coast and asked me to help out in this area. I would have been happy to have helped solve their dilemma.
I would have been happy to have President Hu and his entourage meet me at our local Crakerbarrel Restaurant or Ryan’s Steak house.
My treat.
President Hu and his body guards could have had the all you can eat salad bar or the four vegetable plate or something to whet their little slant eyed appetites.
Or perhaps the Chinese president would have preferred to have done a little fishing and crabbing with me and a couple of the local boys out in the Glynn county marshes, then brought our catch back here to the condo where I could show him how to make home made tarter and cocktail sauces.
Hey Hu, please pass the catsup...
Or in the words of Mick jagger...Hey Hu, get off of my cloud...
(I'm such an insensitive pig, aren't I?)
Friday, April 21, 2006
Back On My Lithium
Rational Insanity
I started to take my earlier posting "Ok stop the presses" off this blog, then I had second thoughts about my second thoughts.
I write some things here based on research and serious contemplation, while other things just explode out of my mind onto the computer screen.
I often have to censor myself because I'm prone to use colorful four letter words that cause my mother to wrinkle her brow and that might offend some of my other family readers, but sometimes I just can't help spewing out things like "$%#@&" and I hope that you'll excuse me when I don't use the best of judgment.
Intellectual debate challenges one to use facts and figures instead of invective and name calling to get your point across, but then again--a fence post isn't any more likely to be offended by profanity than the average libtarded news reporter is likely to be reasoned with intelligently.
Sometimes calling a spade a spade requires the use of nouns and adjectives that are better uttered in hushed tones; else hidden outright from polite company.
I'll try to do better in the future.
I started to take my earlier posting "Ok stop the presses" off this blog, then I had second thoughts about my second thoughts.
I write some things here based on research and serious contemplation, while other things just explode out of my mind onto the computer screen.
I often have to censor myself because I'm prone to use colorful four letter words that cause my mother to wrinkle her brow and that might offend some of my other family readers, but sometimes I just can't help spewing out things like "$%#@&" and I hope that you'll excuse me when I don't use the best of judgment.
Intellectual debate challenges one to use facts and figures instead of invective and name calling to get your point across, but then again--a fence post isn't any more likely to be offended by profanity than the average libtarded news reporter is likely to be reasoned with intelligently.
Sometimes calling a spade a spade requires the use of nouns and adjectives that are better uttered in hushed tones; else hidden outright from polite company.
I'll try to do better in the future.
Like Minds
Think Alike
Have I ever mentioned that I enjoy the commentary work of Ann Coulter immensely?
Well, if I haven’t, then let me tell you so now.
Some people can’t stand her, but if I were a few years younger and a few dollars richer (and she wasn’t already happily married), I might consider moving to DC to toss my hat into the matrimonial ring.
Ann tends to piss people off because she’s quite outspoken, but most of the time you have to admit that ANN’S RIGHT.
Not “right” in the sense of “right wing” as many expect, but in my opinion—Ann’s just RIGHT.
I find it interesting that the same day I published ”If You Lay Down With Dogs…You Get Up With Fleas” addressing my views on the Duke University “rape scandal,” Mrs. Coulter published a similar commentary entitled ”Lay Down With Strippers, Wake Up with Pleas”.
I beat Ann to thepunch line title by several hours since I hit the “publish” button here at 4:35 AM in the morning.
I swear that I didn’t copy her title, but I’m pleased to find that we both echo similar themes relating to boorish, vulgar behavior and the resulting unintended consequences.
Like Ann, I had also already mentioned in another posting last fall that Natalee Holloway’s death in Aruba was a direct result of her parents allowing an eighteen year old girl to travel out of the country, alone, to drink and party with strange men.
We now know the devastating outcome resulting from the combination of youthful stupidity, alcohol, hormones, and malice.
Natalee would be finishing her second quarter at the University of Alabama next month if she hadn’t elected to present her little blond ass to a bunch of teen aged sexual predators, but instead she’s probably long ago been digested by a school of fish and shrimp swimming on the reefs off Aruba.
Likewise, there is a cloud hovering over the heads of every single person associated with the Duke Lacrosse team this week because of their ongoing poor choices, including most recently the lapse of judgment in bringing a strange women into their midst and paying her to disrobe.
The poor beleagueredsingle mother stripper is actually quite lucky that she didn’t choose to take her clothes off in Aruba, else she might be looking at the world from the bottom of the ocean rather from the witness stand in a courtroom or through the lens of a TV camera.
And by the way, I wish that Jessie (Hi)Jackson would just shut the hell up on this subject.
Have I ever mentioned that I enjoy the commentary work of Ann Coulter immensely?
Well, if I haven’t, then let me tell you so now.
Some people can’t stand her, but if I were a few years younger and a few dollars richer (and she wasn’t already happily married), I might consider moving to DC to toss my hat into the matrimonial ring.
Ann tends to piss people off because she’s quite outspoken, but most of the time you have to admit that ANN’S RIGHT.
Not “right” in the sense of “right wing” as many expect, but in my opinion—Ann’s just RIGHT.
I find it interesting that the same day I published ”If You Lay Down With Dogs…You Get Up With Fleas” addressing my views on the Duke University “rape scandal,” Mrs. Coulter published a similar commentary entitled ”Lay Down With Strippers, Wake Up with Pleas”.
I beat Ann to the
I swear that I didn’t copy her title, but I’m pleased to find that we both echo similar themes relating to boorish, vulgar behavior and the resulting unintended consequences.
Like Ann, I had also already mentioned in another posting last fall that Natalee Holloway’s death in Aruba was a direct result of her parents allowing an eighteen year old girl to travel out of the country, alone, to drink and party with strange men.
We now know the devastating outcome resulting from the combination of youthful stupidity, alcohol, hormones, and malice.
Natalee would be finishing her second quarter at the University of Alabama next month if she hadn’t elected to present her little blond ass to a bunch of teen aged sexual predators, but instead she’s probably long ago been digested by a school of fish and shrimp swimming on the reefs off Aruba.
Likewise, there is a cloud hovering over the heads of every single person associated with the Duke Lacrosse team this week because of their ongoing poor choices, including most recently the lapse of judgment in bringing a strange women into their midst and paying her to disrobe.
The poor beleaguered
And by the way, I wish that Jessie (Hi)Jackson would just shut the hell up on this subject.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
OK, Stop The Presses
I've Had It...cover the children's eyes...
"Pentagon Guantanamo List Angers Nations" proclaims the headline on this Yahoo News story.
Can you believe this crap?
How can the media possibly be allowed to :
A…constantly write stories like this, and…
B…put headlines on said stories like they put on this one.
So what the heck would the media and these so called "angered Nations" have us do?
If I were president, I'd slam the door shut on our borders, aim two or three of our best nuclear warheads at the capital city or most populous city of every nation on the planet, and invite their stupid assed, lily livered, bleeding hearted liberal shit heads to control their own borders, politicians, and maverick citizens.
I'd also aim my sights on Hollywood and Washington DC, not to mention the all knowing, sympathetic, gay coffee sipping Meccas here in the good old USA—you know, places like Seattle and San Francisco. I’d demand that they had better pull their penises out of their collective asses, their heads out of any collective butts that didn't already have penises inserted inside ahead of their craniums, and as of May 1st, 2006 I’d simply stop all law enforcement and military protection in these portions of the planet.
Have at it ladies and gentlemen. Show me how the world is supposed to work without the E-V-I-L Republicans and the E-V-I-L conservatives putting their collective butts on the line in order to guarantee the safety of all of you giant world class PUSSIES firmly entrenched in the offices of the Associated Press and the NY Times
Being the responsible public servant that I am, I’d even cut their taxes in the process.
Here, "keep the change, you stupid pacifistic assholes..."
By the way, why don't you put your money where yourass mouth is and send your savings to the UN or UNICEF so they can fund the rape and pillaging they currently sponsor in Africa and the third world.
Just DAMN, people…am I the only one that sees through this stupid assed crap?
"Pentagon Guantanamo List Angers Nations" proclaims the headline on this Yahoo News story.
Can you believe this crap?
How can the media possibly be allowed to :
A…constantly write stories like this, and…
B…put headlines on said stories like they put on this one.
So what the heck would the media and these so called "angered Nations" have us do?
If I were president, I'd slam the door shut on our borders, aim two or three of our best nuclear warheads at the capital city or most populous city of every nation on the planet, and invite their stupid assed, lily livered, bleeding hearted liberal shit heads to control their own borders, politicians, and maverick citizens.
I'd also aim my sights on Hollywood and Washington DC, not to mention the all knowing, sympathetic, gay coffee sipping Meccas here in the good old USA—you know, places like Seattle and San Francisco. I’d demand that they had better pull their penises out of their collective asses, their heads out of any collective butts that didn't already have penises inserted inside ahead of their craniums, and as of May 1st, 2006 I’d simply stop all law enforcement and military protection in these portions of the planet.
Have at it ladies and gentlemen. Show me how the world is supposed to work without the E-V-I-L Republicans and the E-V-I-L conservatives putting their collective butts on the line in order to guarantee the safety of all of you giant world class PUSSIES firmly entrenched in the offices of the Associated Press and the NY Times
Being the responsible public servant that I am, I’d even cut their taxes in the process.
Here, "keep the change, you stupid pacifistic assholes..."
By the way, why don't you put your money where your
Just DAMN, people…am I the only one that sees through this stupid assed crap?
Cooking For The Public
Getting In Touch With My Inner Child Chef
I have a confession to make (gasp…)
Please don’t hate me when I’m finished cleansing my soul, BUT...
I have to admit that just ten short years ago my cooking skills consisted mainly of opening cans and boxes of pre-prepared food “stuff,” along with handling a charcoal grill with slightly more than an average level of dexterity.
Yes ladies and gentlemen, I hate to admit it, but I now realize that I allowed myself to wallow in the gutters of divorced bachelorhood, swimming in a sea of trans-fat laden fast food and microwave pop corn.
Vienna sausages, peanut butter, and delivery pizza were my standard fare.
Fast forward to the new millennium, and I’m pleased to announce that today things are quite different.
I’ve become, in my own estimation, a pretty good cook.
Just like being a musician or pursuing any other art form, I know that I have arrived at some level of accomplishment in cooking because I’ve developed the ability to improvise—I can ad lib when the situation arises.
I don’t need a recipe in front of me to make cooking decisions any more.
For instance, last weekend, while visiting some of Pat’s family down in Florida, I was presented with a few pounds of Catfish and Flounder fillets and challenged to do something “different.”
After I made the obligatory “quick” trip to the grocer, I delivered a combination of beer battered fillets and a baked dish called “Jilly style” fish (I got the recipe off of the Tilapia website last year,) and I even managed to use red wine rather than white wine in the sauce and it must have been acceptable because every single crumb of my dinner was scarffed up by my appreciative audience.
Now I know how a good mother must feel at the end of the day when the dishes are all put away.
Maybe I should leave well enough alone, and I hope I’m not overly audacious, but next month I’m taking on a largely unbiased public audience in providing the catering of the food for a party for about two dozen people in the home of our Island friends Bruce and Ski.
Bruce is a real estate broker and his wife Ski is an excellent interior decorator. Their home looks like a photo spread in an architectural magazine, and her kitchen is likewise a beautiful place to be in.
Being the politically incorrect bastard that I strive to be, we’re doing a “Sies de Mayo” party, featuring my rendition of Mexican food. It’s also actually “Derby Day” with the Kentucky Derby horse race happening that Saturday afternoon, but the preceding Friday is “Cinco de Mayo”—Mexican Independence day—and as an overt insult to our southern invaders I’m declaring our party Seis de Mayo (sixth of May--actually being a day late and a dollar short helps greatly…)
I’m doing all of the major preparation work here at home and then finishing the presentation at thescene of the crime Bruce and Ski’s house.
The menu includes the following:
Beef, Pork, and Chicken Tamales
Armadillo Eggs (spicy deviled eggs and cream cheese stuffed peppers)
Fancy Baja style battered fish and chicken soft tacos
Two kinds of Guacamole
Three kinds of salsa (peach, tomato, and tomatilla)
Assorted accoutrements like shredded cabbage, mandarin orange slices, jalapeño peppers and sour cream.
I'm even looking at buying a real chef's smock to wear while I run around in mypajamas chef's pants in public.
OK, you can stop salivating, and you have to let me go now because I have to finish a batch of chicken tamales that I’m making as a test run this morning.
I have a confession to make (gasp…)
Please don’t hate me when I’m finished cleansing my soul, BUT...
I have to admit that just ten short years ago my cooking skills consisted mainly of opening cans and boxes of pre-prepared food “stuff,” along with handling a charcoal grill with slightly more than an average level of dexterity.
Yes ladies and gentlemen, I hate to admit it, but I now realize that I allowed myself to wallow in the gutters of divorced bachelorhood, swimming in a sea of trans-fat laden fast food and microwave pop corn.
Vienna sausages, peanut butter, and delivery pizza were my standard fare.
Fast forward to the new millennium, and I’m pleased to announce that today things are quite different.
I’ve become, in my own estimation, a pretty good cook.
Just like being a musician or pursuing any other art form, I know that I have arrived at some level of accomplishment in cooking because I’ve developed the ability to improvise—I can ad lib when the situation arises.
I don’t need a recipe in front of me to make cooking decisions any more.
For instance, last weekend, while visiting some of Pat’s family down in Florida, I was presented with a few pounds of Catfish and Flounder fillets and challenged to do something “different.”
After I made the obligatory “quick” trip to the grocer, I delivered a combination of beer battered fillets and a baked dish called “Jilly style” fish (I got the recipe off of the Tilapia website last year,) and I even managed to use red wine rather than white wine in the sauce and it must have been acceptable because every single crumb of my dinner was scarffed up by my appreciative audience.
Now I know how a good mother must feel at the end of the day when the dishes are all put away.
Maybe I should leave well enough alone, and I hope I’m not overly audacious, but next month I’m taking on a largely unbiased public audience in providing the catering of the food for a party for about two dozen people in the home of our Island friends Bruce and Ski.
Bruce is a real estate broker and his wife Ski is an excellent interior decorator. Their home looks like a photo spread in an architectural magazine, and her kitchen is likewise a beautiful place to be in.
Being the politically incorrect bastard that I strive to be, we’re doing a “Sies de Mayo” party, featuring my rendition of Mexican food. It’s also actually “Derby Day” with the Kentucky Derby horse race happening that Saturday afternoon, but the preceding Friday is “Cinco de Mayo”—Mexican Independence day—and as an overt insult to our southern invaders I’m declaring our party Seis de Mayo (sixth of May--actually being a day late and a dollar short helps greatly…)
I’m doing all of the major preparation work here at home and then finishing the presentation at the
The menu includes the following:
Beef, Pork, and Chicken Tamales
Armadillo Eggs (spicy deviled eggs and cream cheese stuffed peppers)
Fancy Baja style battered fish and chicken soft tacos
Two kinds of Guacamole
Three kinds of salsa (peach, tomato, and tomatilla)
Assorted accoutrements like shredded cabbage, mandarin orange slices, jalapeño peppers and sour cream.
I'm even looking at buying a real chef's smock to wear while I run around in my
OK, you can stop salivating, and you have to let me go now because I have to finish a batch of chicken tamales that I’m making as a test run this morning.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
If You Lay Down With Dogs
You’ll Get Up with Fleas…
My title and subtitle, added together, amount to pretty good advice for living, in my experience.
Nine out of ten mothers everywhere will enthusiastically tell you that “If you don’t lie down with dogs, you are MUCH less likely to get up with fleas.”
But then again, I have to admit that I’ve found that the occasional flea can be found wandering around out there in the world, and a lonesome flea will gladly jump on you when you least expect it and set about to wreck havoc in your life if they can.
A couple of ex-wives and my son-of-a-bitch ex-business partner come to mind here, but I digress…
I’ve kept my mouth and keyboard quite regarding the Duke University “lacrosse team rape scandal” for the past month because I didn’t feel that my opinions and rhetoric would add anything to the process, but tonight I’m breaking my silence.
I’ll open with this statement:
“THIS ENTIRE ‘NEWS STORY’ HAS BEEN MISHANDLED FROM THE OUTSET”
Understand?
First of all, it’s not a “news story”; it’s the investigation of an ALLEGED crime.
A Rape.
A horrible crime that involves the violation of a person on the most intimate, personal level.
So why have the police and district attorney’s office elected to play out the investigation in such a public manner?
After all, they have an admitted victim, RIGHT?
They have the field of suspects narrowed down to the 42 members of the Duke University Lacrosse team, RIGHT?
No dragnet, no manhunt, no “All Points Bulletins.”
Further, all 42 members of the Lacrosse team have known names and addresses, RIGHT?
AND, all 41 of the white members of the team submitted to DNA testing, not to mention endless interviews and searches of their property and residences.
(I’ll mention here that the three alleged rapists were reported to be white, thereby eliminating the one black guy that apparently snuck onto the Duke Lacrosse team because he didn’t play a good game of basketball else he didn’t get the memo; or perhaps he’s related to Tiger Woods and intentionally chooses to step outside the racial stereotype)
Is your head spinning yet?
No?
Then I’ll keep going on…
I’ve known a couple of Lacrosse players in my day. Kurt, our freshman dorm “mentor” at Georgia Tech was a Lacrosse player. Lacrosse players are sort of like rugby players, except taller and skinnier. Macho and bravado are standard modus operandi with Lacrosse players.
That said, I also aver that it’s not a black or white issue.
I also say that it’s not a male or female issue.
But…that’s exactly what the media and District Attorney Mike Nifong have turned this situation into.
Here is what has burned my ass the most during this so called "development" of this so called "news story."
IF the victim hadn’t been black, and IF the alleged attackers hadn’t been white, and IF they hadn’t been attending college at Duke University, then YOU and I wouldn’t have heard a single word about this ALLEGED rape.
Now do you get my point?
All you liberals and feminists out there can just hold your water for another few seconds because you are probably running off on the wrong track on me mentally…wait before you start bitching and calling me names…hang on…steady now…
Consider these questions.
1. What if a rape didn’t actually occur?
2. IF a rape didn’t occur, how can the lives of the two (or soon to be three) men accused of the alleged rape be made whole again when the media hysteria subsides?
These young men attend one of the most prestigious institutions in the country. Not only is Duke hard to get into, but Duke costs tons of money to stay in for four years.
People that go to Duke run companies and run for office—most of the time successfully.
People that go to Duke expect to reap the benefits of spending their parents’ money and their own time reading and writing and doing arithmetic.
Yet I say that full restitution is impossible to deliver to these young men, but I also remind us of my title used on this posting, and in effect I’m placing some of the blame for their current situation with them in the process …
Hey guys, IF you hadn’t LAID DOWN WITH THE PROVERBIAL “DOGS”…then you wouldn’t have gotten up with FLEAS this morning.
OK all you feminists and race baiting activists, keep your pants on (and please excuse the pun...)
I’m not really calling the alleged “victim” a “dog” here, but putting her stated reasons for working as a stripper aside (single mom working her way through college), my mother and your mother and most mothers in the world would wag their finger at any man that hired strippers to come to their party, regardless of any purported altruistic rationalizations of supporting education or children’s welfare.
No strippers, no rape allegations…no strippers, no macho bravado…just a bunch of drunken, horny, gangly, pimple faced geeks sitting around eating potato chips and Crystal cheeseburgers.
Finally, I say that what we have here is yet another example of media abetted class and race warfare, in the form of a putrid, puritanistic story line, served up on a silver platter to an American public that consistently demonstrates an appetite for suchbullshit tripe.
After all, what are YOU going to do about this story, even if it is true?
Nod your nappy head in approval?
Get in your car and drive to Durham, North Carolina to attend the trial?
Load your gun?
Call OJ Simpson to help look for the third suspect?
Yeah...I thought so...
My title and subtitle, added together, amount to pretty good advice for living, in my experience.
Nine out of ten mothers everywhere will enthusiastically tell you that “If you don’t lie down with dogs, you are MUCH less likely to get up with fleas.”
But then again, I have to admit that I’ve found that the occasional flea can be found wandering around out there in the world, and a lonesome flea will gladly jump on you when you least expect it and set about to wreck havoc in your life if they can.
A couple of ex-wives and my son-of-a-bitch ex-business partner come to mind here, but I digress…
I’ve kept my mouth and keyboard quite regarding the Duke University “lacrosse team rape scandal” for the past month because I didn’t feel that my opinions and rhetoric would add anything to the process, but tonight I’m breaking my silence.
I’ll open with this statement:
“THIS ENTIRE ‘NEWS STORY’ HAS BEEN MISHANDLED FROM THE OUTSET”
Understand?
First of all, it’s not a “news story”; it’s the investigation of an ALLEGED crime.
A Rape.
A horrible crime that involves the violation of a person on the most intimate, personal level.
So why have the police and district attorney’s office elected to play out the investigation in such a public manner?
After all, they have an admitted victim, RIGHT?
They have the field of suspects narrowed down to the 42 members of the Duke University Lacrosse team, RIGHT?
No dragnet, no manhunt, no “All Points Bulletins.”
Further, all 42 members of the Lacrosse team have known names and addresses, RIGHT?
AND, all 41 of the white members of the team submitted to DNA testing, not to mention endless interviews and searches of their property and residences.
(I’ll mention here that the three alleged rapists were reported to be white, thereby eliminating the one black guy that apparently snuck onto the Duke Lacrosse team because he didn’t play a good game of basketball else he didn’t get the memo; or perhaps he’s related to Tiger Woods and intentionally chooses to step outside the racial stereotype)
Is your head spinning yet?
No?
Then I’ll keep going on…
I’ve known a couple of Lacrosse players in my day. Kurt, our freshman dorm “mentor” at Georgia Tech was a Lacrosse player. Lacrosse players are sort of like rugby players, except taller and skinnier. Macho and bravado are standard modus operandi with Lacrosse players.
That said, I also aver that it’s not a black or white issue.
I also say that it’s not a male or female issue.
But…that’s exactly what the media and District Attorney Mike Nifong have turned this situation into.
Here is what has burned my ass the most during this so called "development" of this so called "news story."
IF the victim hadn’t been black, and IF the alleged attackers hadn’t been white, and IF they hadn’t been attending college at Duke University, then YOU and I wouldn’t have heard a single word about this ALLEGED rape.
Now do you get my point?
All you liberals and feminists out there can just hold your water for another few seconds because you are probably running off on the wrong track on me mentally…wait before you start bitching and calling me names…hang on…steady now…
Consider these questions.
1. What if a rape didn’t actually occur?
2. IF a rape didn’t occur, how can the lives of the two (or soon to be three) men accused of the alleged rape be made whole again when the media hysteria subsides?
These young men attend one of the most prestigious institutions in the country. Not only is Duke hard to get into, but Duke costs tons of money to stay in for four years.
People that go to Duke run companies and run for office—most of the time successfully.
People that go to Duke expect to reap the benefits of spending their parents’ money and their own time reading and writing and doing arithmetic.
Yet I say that full restitution is impossible to deliver to these young men, but I also remind us of my title used on this posting, and in effect I’m placing some of the blame for their current situation with them in the process …
Hey guys, IF you hadn’t LAID DOWN WITH THE PROVERBIAL “DOGS”…then you wouldn’t have gotten up with FLEAS this morning.
OK all you feminists and race baiting activists, keep your pants on (and please excuse the pun...)
I’m not really calling the alleged “victim” a “dog” here, but putting her stated reasons for working as a stripper aside (single mom working her way through college), my mother and your mother and most mothers in the world would wag their finger at any man that hired strippers to come to their party, regardless of any purported altruistic rationalizations of supporting education or children’s welfare.
No strippers, no rape allegations…no strippers, no macho bravado…just a bunch of drunken, horny, gangly, pimple faced geeks sitting around eating potato chips and Crystal cheeseburgers.
Finally, I say that what we have here is yet another example of media abetted class and race warfare, in the form of a putrid, puritanistic story line, served up on a silver platter to an American public that consistently demonstrates an appetite for such
After all, what are YOU going to do about this story, even if it is true?
Nod your nappy head in approval?
Get in your car and drive to Durham, North Carolina to attend the trial?
Load your gun?
Call OJ Simpson to help look for the third suspect?
Yeah...I thought so...
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Back To The Grind
Reality Sets In
We made it home from St. Cloud in record time yesterday afternoon—about 4 hours—arriving back on our little island by about 4 PM in time to enjoy a couple of happy hour drinks down at Marsh Point and make the obligatory trip to the grocery store. Tenderloin Steaks, crumbled blue cheese, fresh asparagus, and fresh baked basil bread were on the evening’s dinner menu.
Negotiating traffic on Interstates 4 and 95 can sometimes be daunting, but yesterday the traffic volume was moderate and the average speed was about 80 MPH, peaking on one stretch in Georgia at 90 MPH—thus the low elapsed time in transit. I don’t usually do much speeding in my recent driving history, but jumping into the middle of a dozen vehicles driving fast but otherwise rationally seemed to not be a problem at that moment.
We were relieved to find our neighbor in good health and the good hands of his nurses, no worse for our extended weekend absence. After checking in with him and having a brief visit, the grill was lit, the steamer basket fired up, and dinner was had at the coffee table in time to settle in and watch Jeopardy.
I was asleep by 8:30 PM.
I don’t believe that I mentioned before that I took the online test last month to qualify for the interview and trial Jeopardy games to be held in Orlando this summer. I haven’t heard anything from them yet, but I still intend to pursue the opportunity to appear on the show in the next few years.
I realized that the online testing is ripe for fraud because they simply flash the questions on a web site and you have 15 seconds each to answer 50 questions. I’m fairly certain that some simple minded morons would be tempted to get a group of friends together and treat the online test like a bar room trivia contest, using their collective minds as a group to come up with the answers.
The problem arises when someone that got selected using this method has to do the live audition and has to tackle the questions alone--all by their lonesome.
I didn’t cheat, but I did get nervous and prematurely hit the “no answer” button a couple of times when I ended up knowing the answer.
I've just realized that I haven’t drawn a single line or touched a watercolor paintbrush in almost a week. After returning from West Virginia last week, I did manage to do some ink sketches of a couple of palm trees while sitting poolside here at the condo. I’m trying to develop some “on site” freehand drawing and painting skills, the results being an entirely different kind of art from that produced sitting at a drawing board using rulers and straight edges as a guide.
I’ve also developed a style by accident that comes across as almost cartoonish in appearance.
Here...take a look at this sketch…see what I mean?
My simple watercolor wash style needs a little work, but I think the coloring is what gives it the cartoon appearance.
Any way, I’ve got to buckle down and start cranking out some useable renderings of another half dozen structures, but I only have photo studies of two or three subject buildings available.
I want to finish the “Sanctuaries of the Golden Isles” series of churches first, but I’m distracted with things like lighthouses and courthouses and other neat historic structures
The good news is that I think that there is another excellent photo adventure in our future this weekend. Maybe another trip to Darien, or possibly a trip south to St. Mary’s or Kingsland?
We’ll just have to wait and see…
We made it home from St. Cloud in record time yesterday afternoon—about 4 hours—arriving back on our little island by about 4 PM in time to enjoy a couple of happy hour drinks down at Marsh Point and make the obligatory trip to the grocery store. Tenderloin Steaks, crumbled blue cheese, fresh asparagus, and fresh baked basil bread were on the evening’s dinner menu.
Negotiating traffic on Interstates 4 and 95 can sometimes be daunting, but yesterday the traffic volume was moderate and the average speed was about 80 MPH, peaking on one stretch in Georgia at 90 MPH—thus the low elapsed time in transit. I don’t usually do much speeding in my recent driving history, but jumping into the middle of a dozen vehicles driving fast but otherwise rationally seemed to not be a problem at that moment.
We were relieved to find our neighbor in good health and the good hands of his nurses, no worse for our extended weekend absence. After checking in with him and having a brief visit, the grill was lit, the steamer basket fired up, and dinner was had at the coffee table in time to settle in and watch Jeopardy.
I was asleep by 8:30 PM.
I don’t believe that I mentioned before that I took the online test last month to qualify for the interview and trial Jeopardy games to be held in Orlando this summer. I haven’t heard anything from them yet, but I still intend to pursue the opportunity to appear on the show in the next few years.
I realized that the online testing is ripe for fraud because they simply flash the questions on a web site and you have 15 seconds each to answer 50 questions. I’m fairly certain that some simple minded morons would be tempted to get a group of friends together and treat the online test like a bar room trivia contest, using their collective minds as a group to come up with the answers.
The problem arises when someone that got selected using this method has to do the live audition and has to tackle the questions alone--all by their lonesome.
I didn’t cheat, but I did get nervous and prematurely hit the “no answer” button a couple of times when I ended up knowing the answer.
I've just realized that I haven’t drawn a single line or touched a watercolor paintbrush in almost a week. After returning from West Virginia last week, I did manage to do some ink sketches of a couple of palm trees while sitting poolside here at the condo. I’m trying to develop some “on site” freehand drawing and painting skills, the results being an entirely different kind of art from that produced sitting at a drawing board using rulers and straight edges as a guide.
I’ve also developed a style by accident that comes across as almost cartoonish in appearance.
Here...take a look at this sketch…see what I mean?
My simple watercolor wash style needs a little work, but I think the coloring is what gives it the cartoon appearance.Any way, I’ve got to buckle down and start cranking out some useable renderings of another half dozen structures, but I only have photo studies of two or three subject buildings available.
I want to finish the “Sanctuaries of the Golden Isles” series of churches first, but I’m distracted with things like lighthouses and courthouses and other neat historic structures
The good news is that I think that there is another excellent photo adventure in our future this weekend. Maybe another trip to Darien, or possibly a trip south to St. Mary’s or Kingsland?
We’ll just have to wait and see…
Monday, April 17, 2006
Sixty Six Thousand Pages
Of IRS Bullshit
If you’re like most Americans, today you’re rushing toward the finish line—tossing your tax return into the mail…unless you’re like us and mailed the form in in late January.
We’ve already deposited the so called “refund” check.
Heck, I think that we’ve already spent the darn thing.
I just heard some guy on FOX News spout two interesting statistics:
There were two times as many “income tax professionals” as there are policemen in this country.
Further, there are four times as many “income tax professional” as there are firefighters in the good old USA.
I say that there is something terribly wrong when we find ourselves in a situation that results in those kind of realities.
Don’t you???
If you’re like most Americans, today you’re rushing toward the finish line—tossing your tax return into the mail…unless you’re like us and mailed the form in in late January.
We’ve already deposited the so called “refund” check.
Heck, I think that we’ve already spent the darn thing.
I just heard some guy on FOX News spout two interesting statistics:
There were two times as many “income tax professionals” as there are policemen in this country.
Further, there are four times as many “income tax professional” as there are firefighters in the good old USA.
I say that there is something terribly wrong when we find ourselves in a situation that results in those kind of realities.
Don’t you???
Sunday, April 16, 2006
My Special Easter Bunny
And You Wonder Why The Kiddies Can't Sleep...
Oops...I forgot to mention that the above image was modified greatly by yours truely with PhotoShop from one found at Kevin_Duffy_Cartoons. Silly me...
Saturday, April 15, 2006
FIFTEEN THOUSAND
Crazy People Have Visited This Website
That’s right, ladies & gentlemen…boys and girls of all ages…
It took me 16 months to get my first ten thousand “hits” here on this blog .
I was quite happy with my performance to that date, because I had no barometer or other standards at the time with which to judge my success except that I liked blogging and someone apparently liked reading my rantings and ramblings.
It all seemed simple enough, at least to me.
Well, I’m proud to announce that YOU, my new and regular readers, just pushed me over the 15,000 mark yesterday…
FIVE THOUSAND ADDITIONAL HITS, ONLY FOUR MONTHS LATER.
Someone queue the fireworks and dancing girls or something, please…
As you may have already noticed, I'm a writer, not a "linker", except on the rare occasion of lazyness or sickness or absence where I choose to point to my fellow bloggers for content.
You probably have also noticed that I tend to call a spade a spade, as I see things. My intent is never to intentionally offend anyone, but if the shoe fits--I allow you to wear it--just like the truth hurts when presented in a public or personal fashion.
Any way, I’d like to take this opportunity to offer hearty THANKS…and to remind you to keep up the good work.
I'll also mention, to those of you that don't like what I have to say, that you are equally welcome to stay the hell away if I really get under your skin or you can't behave yourself in my comments section while you're here.
I look forward to getting the next 5K worth of traffic in three months, perhaps?
Other than that, y'all have a nice day...
That’s right, ladies & gentlemen…boys and girls of all ages…
It took me 16 months to get my first ten thousand “hits” here on this blog .
I was quite happy with my performance to that date, because I had no barometer or other standards at the time with which to judge my success except that I liked blogging and someone apparently liked reading my rantings and ramblings.
It all seemed simple enough, at least to me.
Well, I’m proud to announce that YOU, my new and regular readers, just pushed me over the 15,000 mark yesterday…
FIVE THOUSAND ADDITIONAL HITS, ONLY FOUR MONTHS LATER.
Someone queue the fireworks and dancing girls or something, please…
As you may have already noticed, I'm a writer, not a "linker", except on the rare occasion of lazyness or sickness or absence where I choose to point to my fellow bloggers for content.
You probably have also noticed that I tend to call a spade a spade, as I see things. My intent is never to intentionally offend anyone, but if the shoe fits--I allow you to wear it--just like the truth hurts when presented in a public or personal fashion.
Any way, I’d like to take this opportunity to offer hearty THANKS…and to remind you to keep up the good work.
I'll also mention, to those of you that don't like what I have to say, that you are equally welcome to stay the hell away if I really get under your skin or you can't behave yourself in my comments section while you're here.
I look forward to getting the next 5K worth of traffic in three months, perhaps?
Other than that, y'all have a nice day...
Live...From My Best Friend’s Living Room…
To Those Of You Out There In The Rest Of The World
Yes, you read my title and sub title correctly…
What was intended to be this past evening’s blogis was coming to you “live and in color” from the living room of my best friend here on St. Simons Island.
My regular readers already know who I’m talking about, and the rest of you can wander around my archives if you actually need to know, but otherwise…I ask that you just relegate yourself to following along with me, right here, right now, without worrying about the gory details of how and why and what and where we got together.
Trust me, it’s the big picture that I’m addressing here this morning.
He (my best friend) has just gone back to sleep after I helped him get out of bed to attend to some personal business, and he was quite happy to find me hanging out here writing when he needed a little help negotiating his way through the process. Due to a paperwork snafu, the expected attending nurse didn’t make it here before midnight, so I’m filling in as best as I can.
That’s OK, because I’m even enjoying sitting here in my buddy’s favorite chair in his living room in these wee hours of the morning.
As I understand it, it was formerly was a pretty fancy chair—back in “the day”—but since then it has had several different fabric coverings placed over its frame before it came to wear the current slightly nicotine colored blue and cream striped colors it has adopted over the past ten years.
That said, I find the color to be quite OK with my friend, and for that reason it’s also OK with me, because I only have a few more weeks available to sit here in his old familiar piece of furniture, before it is hauled away—along with my best friend—back to New England near where he grew up.
I’m not declaring sainthood on myself or anything like that, yet I have to ask…
how many of you out there ever bother to sit in your friends old dingy chairs, or even walk along beside them in their old worn leather shoes when things are going well, not to mention when things aren’t going their way?
I’ve learned that here in this world there is an obvious need for people to do the kind of things that I’ve been doing for the past half year or so, but I’ve also realized that there is no amount of money that can be paid out to buy the level of appreciation I’ve been blessed with; and no amount of money that anyone can receive as a substitute in order to justify the patience and time it takes to do what needs to be done.
My friend has come to rely on me in his present declining health to accomplish a number of things that until the past few years most of us still take for granted being able to do at will. Yet, in spite of his increasing physical and mental limitations, he is still the same wonderful person that I first met back in March of 2004 and he will still be greatly missed as he moves away later this month to his new home nearer to his own wonderful family.
His most recent trauma occurred Thursday morning when his declining health caused him to take a tumble to the floor in his kitchen, after which he had to endure an ambulance ride, but following a few scary hours in the emergency room and a few stitches later we had him safely back home to his familiar old chair where I sit to write most of this dialogue.
(now here’s the Friday night part…)
It is amazing to me how life’s events put things into perspective, if only you will open your eyes and listen through your ears to what you are being told. It’s amazing what opportunities you can receive, years after you’ve given up on humanity in general, if you do something as simple as change your view or location and allow others to reach out to you, often in need, and just do the things that you are capable of doing.
Just five years ago I had given up on myself and my own prospects for the future after failed marriages, business relationships, businesses, and the total loss of my house and most of my possessions in an electrical fire left me bankrupt and angry at the entire world. I had attained great success, both personal and financial, only to watch it all slip away in an avalanche of bad luck, augmented by a rising tide of stupidity and self pity.
I basically gave up. If I couldn’t have things my way, then I’d just have nothing at all and give the same to everyone else I came in contact with.
Yet here I am today, sitting in St. Cloud, Florida, wishing that I was back on our little island, sitting in my old friend’s chair, standing by to help him get through the evening again.
Hope you have a good night…Bucky
Yes, you read my title and sub title correctly…
What was intended to be this past evening’s blog
My regular readers already know who I’m talking about, and the rest of you can wander around my archives if you actually need to know, but otherwise…I ask that you just relegate yourself to following along with me, right here, right now, without worrying about the gory details of how and why and what and where we got together.
Trust me, it’s the big picture that I’m addressing here this morning.
He (my best friend) has just gone back to sleep after I helped him get out of bed to attend to some personal business, and he was quite happy to find me hanging out here writing when he needed a little help negotiating his way through the process. Due to a paperwork snafu, the expected attending nurse didn’t make it here before midnight, so I’m filling in as best as I can.
That’s OK, because I’m even enjoying sitting here in my buddy’s favorite chair in his living room in these wee hours of the morning.
As I understand it, it was formerly was a pretty fancy chair—back in “the day”—but since then it has had several different fabric coverings placed over its frame before it came to wear the current slightly nicotine colored blue and cream striped colors it has adopted over the past ten years.
That said, I find the color to be quite OK with my friend, and for that reason it’s also OK with me, because I only have a few more weeks available to sit here in his old familiar piece of furniture, before it is hauled away—along with my best friend—back to New England near where he grew up.
I’m not declaring sainthood on myself or anything like that, yet I have to ask…
how many of you out there ever bother to sit in your friends old dingy chairs, or even walk along beside them in their old worn leather shoes when things are going well, not to mention when things aren’t going their way?
I’ve learned that here in this world there is an obvious need for people to do the kind of things that I’ve been doing for the past half year or so, but I’ve also realized that there is no amount of money that can be paid out to buy the level of appreciation I’ve been blessed with; and no amount of money that anyone can receive as a substitute in order to justify the patience and time it takes to do what needs to be done.
My friend has come to rely on me in his present declining health to accomplish a number of things that until the past few years most of us still take for granted being able to do at will. Yet, in spite of his increasing physical and mental limitations, he is still the same wonderful person that I first met back in March of 2004 and he will still be greatly missed as he moves away later this month to his new home nearer to his own wonderful family.
His most recent trauma occurred Thursday morning when his declining health caused him to take a tumble to the floor in his kitchen, after which he had to endure an ambulance ride, but following a few scary hours in the emergency room and a few stitches later we had him safely back home to his familiar old chair where I sit to write most of this dialogue.
(now here’s the Friday night part…)
It is amazing to me how life’s events put things into perspective, if only you will open your eyes and listen through your ears to what you are being told. It’s amazing what opportunities you can receive, years after you’ve given up on humanity in general, if you do something as simple as change your view or location and allow others to reach out to you, often in need, and just do the things that you are capable of doing.
Just five years ago I had given up on myself and my own prospects for the future after failed marriages, business relationships, businesses, and the total loss of my house and most of my possessions in an electrical fire left me bankrupt and angry at the entire world. I had attained great success, both personal and financial, only to watch it all slip away in an avalanche of bad luck, augmented by a rising tide of stupidity and self pity.
I basically gave up. If I couldn’t have things my way, then I’d just have nothing at all and give the same to everyone else I came in contact with.
Yet here I am today, sitting in St. Cloud, Florida, wishing that I was back on our little island, sitting in my old friend’s chair, standing by to help him get through the evening again.
Hope you have a good night…Bucky
Friday, April 14, 2006
Life Is What Happens
While You're Making Other Plans
Sorry for the light posting, but I took my second ambulance ride in 8 months yesterday--this time I was in the front seat rather than strapped to a bed in the back.
After all the excitement was over and I arrived back home, my obligations dictated other things than the use of a keyboard most of last evening.
Now we're hitting the road headed for central Florida for a long Easter weekend, but I'll have lots of computer time and poolside lnternet access, so I just might set some sort of record for number of words produced this weekend.
Y'all have a lovely Easter, and I'll have a LARGE time myself.
Sorry for the light posting, but I took my second ambulance ride in 8 months yesterday--this time I was in the front seat rather than strapped to a bed in the back.
After all the excitement was over and I arrived back home, my obligations dictated other things than the use of a keyboard most of last evening.
Now we're hitting the road headed for central Florida for a long Easter weekend, but I'll have lots of computer time and poolside lnternet access, so I just might set some sort of record for number of words produced this weekend.
Y'all have a lovely Easter, and I'll have a LARGE time myself.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Unintended Consequences
Why We're Where We Are Today...
Here’s a little history lesson for those of you that are inclined to listen to me this morning. It involves a fundamental issue clearly addressed in the original design of the US Constitution, and concludes by pointing out how we’ve screwed things up since that important document was finally ratified by Rhode Island back in 1790.
It seems to me that very few people know or remember that, prior to the passage of the 17th Amendment in 1913, the US Senators were appointed by the State Legislatures (or the Governors) to represent the States interests at a national level.
As a sideline note, that same Congress also passed this little ditty that same year—1913:
Amendment XVI
The Congress shall have power to lay and collect taxes on incomes, from whatever source derived, without apportionment among the several states, and without regard to any census or enumeration.
I’d like to personally grab those stupid assed politicians by the throat, yank them into life again today, and make them live with the hideous monster they created in the form of the income tax and the Internal Revenue Service. Talk about poetic justice...
Taking a big breath…and getting back to my original point, here’s what Article I, Section 3 of the Constitution originally said about the US Senate:
Section 3. The Senate of the United States shall be composed of two Senators from each state, chosen by the legislature thereof, for six years; and each Senator shall have one vote.
Immediately after they shall be assembled in consequence of the first election, they shall be divided as equally as may be into three classes. The seats of the Senators of the first class shall be vacated at the expiration of the second year, of the second class at the expiration of the fourth year, and the third class at the expiration of the sixth year, so that one third may be chosen every second year; and if vacancies happen by resignation, or otherwise, during the recess of the legislature of any state, the executive thereof may make temporary appointments until the next meeting of the legislature, which shall then fill such vacancies
No person shall be a Senator who shall not have attained to the age of thirty years, and been nine years a citizen of the United States and who shall not, when elected, be an inhabitant of that state for which he shall be chosen.
This text was modified by the 17th Amendment’s to read:
Amendment XVII
The Senate of the United States shall be composed of two Senators from each state, elected by the people thereof, for six years; and each Senator shall have one vote. The electors in each state shall have the qualifications requisite for electors of the most numerous branch of the state legislatures.
When vacancies happen in the representation of any state in the Senate, the executive authority of such state shall issue writs of election to fill such vacancies: Provided, that the legislature of any state may empower the executive thereof to make temporary appointments until the people fill the vacancies by election as the legislature may direct.
This amendment shall not be so construed as to affect the election or term of any Senator chosen before it becomes valid as part of the Constitution.”
In summary, the original intent of the writers of the US constitution was to allow the PEOPLE to elect the members of the House of Representatives to protect the interests of the individuals, and allow the STATES to choose the Senators to address the interests of the State Governments.
I guaran-damn-tee you that people like sHrillary Clinton, John sKerry, Teddy (hicup) Kennedy, Harry Reid and Nancy Pelosi (not to mention Bill Frist, Chuck Hagel, Trent Lott, and John McCain) would not be US Senators today if weren’t for the ratification of the 17th Amendment.
I say that this is true because these non-ideological, shape shifting, chameleon-like politicalmorons experts constantly allow the Imperial Federal Government of the United By-God States of America run roughshod over the rights of the individual sovereign states on an almost daily basis.
And finally…
I guaran-damn-tee you that we wouldn’t be sitting here right now watching the Senate take a two week “Easter Recess” whileillegal “undocumented” Mexicans pour over our southern border in anticipation of any tightening border restriction that might be eventually passed by Congress; and not to mention the potential wholesale amnesty of anyone caught standing inside our country when they finally pass said new legislation.
How any sane person can possibly support allowing this so called “immigration” situation to continue is beyond me, but I also recognise that we as an American people have been and continue to be our own worst enemies by passing things like the 17th amendment, electing the current breed of elitist rocket scientists to seats in the US Senate, and allowing the ongoing politically correct public dialogue to facilitate the stalling of immigration reform in the name of not appearing to be insensitive or racist.
I read somewhere that 1 in 10 native Mexicans alive today already reside here inside the United States. I’ve also read that bleading heart liberals justify the situation in the name of some kind of twisted humanitarian cause.
Let’s face it, ladies and gentlemen, this whole issue revolves around the simple facts that the Democratic AND Republican politicians want the future Mexican votes while the poor beleaguered Mexicans simply want the jobs and the money.
In closing, let me remind you that people in Hell want ice water too, but Hell is where we’re ALL going to be living in twenty years, in my considered Redneck opinion, as the direct result of the inaction of our glorious US Senate today.
Why can't we all just get along together, but in our own respective individual countries?
Here’s a little history lesson for those of you that are inclined to listen to me this morning. It involves a fundamental issue clearly addressed in the original design of the US Constitution, and concludes by pointing out how we’ve screwed things up since that important document was finally ratified by Rhode Island back in 1790.
It seems to me that very few people know or remember that, prior to the passage of the 17th Amendment in 1913, the US Senators were appointed by the State Legislatures (or the Governors) to represent the States interests at a national level.
As a sideline note, that same Congress also passed this little ditty that same year—1913:
Amendment XVI
The Congress shall have power to lay and collect taxes on incomes, from whatever source derived, without apportionment among the several states, and without regard to any census or enumeration.
I’d like to personally grab those stupid assed politicians by the throat, yank them into life again today, and make them live with the hideous monster they created in the form of the income tax and the Internal Revenue Service. Talk about poetic justice...
Taking a big breath…and getting back to my original point, here’s what Article I, Section 3 of the Constitution originally said about the US Senate:
Section 3. The Senate of the United States shall be composed of two Senators from each state, chosen by the legislature thereof, for six years; and each Senator shall have one vote.
Immediately after they shall be assembled in consequence of the first election, they shall be divided as equally as may be into three classes. The seats of the Senators of the first class shall be vacated at the expiration of the second year, of the second class at the expiration of the fourth year, and the third class at the expiration of the sixth year, so that one third may be chosen every second year; and if vacancies happen by resignation, or otherwise, during the recess of the legislature of any state, the executive thereof may make temporary appointments until the next meeting of the legislature, which shall then fill such vacancies
No person shall be a Senator who shall not have attained to the age of thirty years, and been nine years a citizen of the United States and who shall not, when elected, be an inhabitant of that state for which he shall be chosen.
This text was modified by the 17th Amendment’s to read:
Amendment XVII
The Senate of the United States shall be composed of two Senators from each state, elected by the people thereof, for six years; and each Senator shall have one vote. The electors in each state shall have the qualifications requisite for electors of the most numerous branch of the state legislatures.
When vacancies happen in the representation of any state in the Senate, the executive authority of such state shall issue writs of election to fill such vacancies: Provided, that the legislature of any state may empower the executive thereof to make temporary appointments until the people fill the vacancies by election as the legislature may direct.
This amendment shall not be so construed as to affect the election or term of any Senator chosen before it becomes valid as part of the Constitution.”
In summary, the original intent of the writers of the US constitution was to allow the PEOPLE to elect the members of the House of Representatives to protect the interests of the individuals, and allow the STATES to choose the Senators to address the interests of the State Governments.
I guaran-damn-tee you that people like sHrillary Clinton, John sKerry, Teddy (hicup) Kennedy, Harry Reid and Nancy Pelosi (not to mention Bill Frist, Chuck Hagel, Trent Lott, and John McCain) would not be US Senators today if weren’t for the ratification of the 17th Amendment.
I say that this is true because these non-ideological, shape shifting, chameleon-like political
And finally…
I guaran-damn-tee you that we wouldn’t be sitting here right now watching the Senate take a two week “Easter Recess” while
How any sane person can possibly support allowing this so called “immigration” situation to continue is beyond me, but I also recognise that we as an American people have been and continue to be our own worst enemies by passing things like the 17th amendment, electing the current breed of elitist rocket scientists to seats in the US Senate, and allowing the ongoing politically correct public dialogue to facilitate the stalling of immigration reform in the name of not appearing to be insensitive or racist.
I read somewhere that 1 in 10 native Mexicans alive today already reside here inside the United States. I’ve also read that bleading heart liberals justify the situation in the name of some kind of twisted humanitarian cause.
Let’s face it, ladies and gentlemen, this whole issue revolves around the simple facts that the Democratic AND Republican politicians want the future Mexican votes while the poor beleaguered Mexicans simply want the jobs and the money.
In closing, let me remind you that people in Hell want ice water too, but Hell is where we’re ALL going to be living in twenty years, in my considered Redneck opinion, as the direct result of the inaction of our glorious US Senate today.
Why can't we all just get along together, but in our own respective individual countries?
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Suffering From A Severe Case Of Withdrawal…
Technology Withdrawal—That Is
Good gosh is it good to be back on our little island again. Four days out there in “the real world” is almost more than I can stand, apparently. Add in four airplane rides and a funeral for my grandmother, and I think you can see where I’m coming from.
Now not only is my notebook computer out of commission, but ever since I tuned my cell phone off while boarding the Delta airlines flight out of Atlanta the phone has refused to operate again. I guess that it’s bounced off the ground one too many times.
If stuff keeps breaking at the current pace I’ll be wearing animal skins for clothes and talking on two Dixie cups connected together by string…
Hello?
I spent three nights at the Holiday Inn Express in Charleston, WV because they only charged 10,000 Priority Club points per night. For some reason the hotel nearest Grandma’s funeral refused to accept points for motel space, but since the offending property was located out in the middle of nowhere in north eastern Kentucky and the one I stayed in was in walking distance of virtually the entire city of Charleston—at least I wasn’t ENTIRELY bored to DEATH.
The first thing I did, upon realizing that my cell phone was dead, was manage to spend almost $20 on four phone calls amounting to a total of 3 minutes. They charged $4.95 for the first minute and an additional DOLLAR for each additional minute of long distance.
Don’t get me wrong here, I expected to pay a "slight" premium because I first suffered this injustice twenty years ago while staying in hotels on business. It didn’t take me long back then to learn to dial 10288 and use AT&T rather than paying “Jaunita and Julio’s Deluxe Extra Special Ripoff Long Distance Service." In those days I guess they could somewhat justify charging people a Kings Ransom because there was no long distance competition and no VoIP phone service and people were still paying AT&T 30 cents a minute or so on their home telephone to call across state lines.
With rates running $0.03 a minute today (not to mention unlimited cell phone long distance and VoIP service) I guess that I thought that the hotels had given up ripping off their guests with ridiculous rates like I was charged.
Live and learn…
I almost wanted to wring the clerk’s neck when I was informed that the hotel, in their infinite wisdom, didn’t have a business center with the obligatory internet computer terminal. He then cheerfully informed me that they did have high speed internet in all of the rooms. I guess that I could have connected my razor or the blow dryer to the CAT5 cable in order to see if I could contact Google, because after two days without internet and E-mail I was almost willing to try anything.
While I was searching for extra pillows in the dresser, I noticed a computer keyboard laying in one the drawers. My heart leapt in anticipation, then it sunk back into the depths of depression when I learned that “high speed” internet access on their “On Command” TV system would cost $9.95 per day.
Screw that…I walked about eight blocks down the street to Kinkos and checked E-mail Saturday night, and I used my sister’s notebook PC Sunday afternoon after she arrived in town to satisfy my computer addiction on a limited basis. Just a taste…(said with my hands shaking, I can quit at any time…really, I can…)
I resisted the urge to throw any more money at the front desk until I woke up Monday night about 2:00 AM and, in a moment of insane weakness, I changed channels and hit the “select” button authorizing the hotel tosteal charge me the necessary ransom fee.
Within ten minutes I ABSOLUTELY HATED MYSELF for my OWN STUPIDITY.
Not only was the system incredibly slow and the display on the TV ridiculously grainy, but I could not access any secure websites like my credit report, my credit cards, and most importantly—I couldn’t post anything here on blogger.
I did manage to access my Yahoo account and clear out a few dozen spams and read a couple of E-mails, but that was about it.
Needless to say that I was pissed.
What a total and complete sham the so called “service” turned out to be. I can’t see anyone but a complete internet idiot that would find the level of performance acceptable, and even then an idiot or otherwise inexperienced user couldn’t have done anything with the clunky wireless keyboard except curse while they attempted to control the cursor without the use of a mouse or touchpad.
I finally gave up after about an hour of use and just slept with the keyboard beside me in the bed like a security blanket. At least it was good for something.
So any way, here I am, sitting comfortably on my ass on my sofa with Pat’s machine in my lap.
Total Paradise.
I’ve still got a lot of reading to do to catch up with the news and the antics of my blogger friends, so stay tuned for a couple of good rants tonight when I get time to put what’s on my mind downon paper on your computer screen.
Until then…
Regard’s Y’all
Good gosh is it good to be back on our little island again. Four days out there in “the real world” is almost more than I can stand, apparently. Add in four airplane rides and a funeral for my grandmother, and I think you can see where I’m coming from.
Now not only is my notebook computer out of commission, but ever since I tuned my cell phone off while boarding the Delta airlines flight out of Atlanta the phone has refused to operate again. I guess that it’s bounced off the ground one too many times.
If stuff keeps breaking at the current pace I’ll be wearing animal skins for clothes and talking on two Dixie cups connected together by string…
Hello?
I spent three nights at the Holiday Inn Express in Charleston, WV because they only charged 10,000 Priority Club points per night. For some reason the hotel nearest Grandma’s funeral refused to accept points for motel space, but since the offending property was located out in the middle of nowhere in north eastern Kentucky and the one I stayed in was in walking distance of virtually the entire city of Charleston—at least I wasn’t ENTIRELY bored to DEATH.
The first thing I did, upon realizing that my cell phone was dead, was manage to spend almost $20 on four phone calls amounting to a total of 3 minutes. They charged $4.95 for the first minute and an additional DOLLAR for each additional minute of long distance.
Don’t get me wrong here, I expected to pay a "slight" premium because I first suffered this injustice twenty years ago while staying in hotels on business. It didn’t take me long back then to learn to dial 10288 and use AT&T rather than paying “Jaunita and Julio’s Deluxe Extra Special Ripoff Long Distance Service." In those days I guess they could somewhat justify charging people a Kings Ransom because there was no long distance competition and no VoIP phone service and people were still paying AT&T 30 cents a minute or so on their home telephone to call across state lines.
With rates running $0.03 a minute today (not to mention unlimited cell phone long distance and VoIP service) I guess that I thought that the hotels had given up ripping off their guests with ridiculous rates like I was charged.
Live and learn…
I almost wanted to wring the clerk’s neck when I was informed that the hotel, in their infinite wisdom, didn’t have a business center with the obligatory internet computer terminal. He then cheerfully informed me that they did have high speed internet in all of the rooms. I guess that I could have connected my razor or the blow dryer to the CAT5 cable in order to see if I could contact Google, because after two days without internet and E-mail I was almost willing to try anything.
While I was searching for extra pillows in the dresser, I noticed a computer keyboard laying in one the drawers. My heart leapt in anticipation, then it sunk back into the depths of depression when I learned that “high speed” internet access on their “On Command” TV system would cost $9.95 per day.
Screw that…I walked about eight blocks down the street to Kinkos and checked E-mail Saturday night, and I used my sister’s notebook PC Sunday afternoon after she arrived in town to satisfy my computer addiction on a limited basis. Just a taste…(said with my hands shaking, I can quit at any time…really, I can…)
I resisted the urge to throw any more money at the front desk until I woke up Monday night about 2:00 AM and, in a moment of insane weakness, I changed channels and hit the “select” button authorizing the hotel to
Within ten minutes I ABSOLUTELY HATED MYSELF for my OWN STUPIDITY.
Not only was the system incredibly slow and the display on the TV ridiculously grainy, but I could not access any secure websites like my credit report, my credit cards, and most importantly—I couldn’t post anything here on blogger.
I did manage to access my Yahoo account and clear out a few dozen spams and read a couple of E-mails, but that was about it.
Needless to say that I was pissed.
What a total and complete sham the so called “service” turned out to be. I can’t see anyone but a complete internet idiot that would find the level of performance acceptable, and even then an idiot or otherwise inexperienced user couldn’t have done anything with the clunky wireless keyboard except curse while they attempted to control the cursor without the use of a mouse or touchpad.
I finally gave up after about an hour of use and just slept with the keyboard beside me in the bed like a security blanket. At least it was good for something.
So any way, here I am, sitting comfortably on my ass on my sofa with Pat’s machine in my lap.
Total Paradise.
I’ve still got a lot of reading to do to catch up with the news and the antics of my blogger friends, so stay tuned for a couple of good rants tonight when I get time to put what’s on my mind down
Until then…
Regard’s Y’all
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Alive..In West Virginia
I made it...
In spite of the advertisement, there is no business center in the hotel. Just Damn...
I'm walking my rear end off wandering around in downtown Charleston, WV with my camera in hand, in a total state of internet withdrawal, and I found this Kinkos/Fed X center and here I am...
It's going down to 29 degrees F tonight and I'm standing around in my Hawaiian shirt.
Somebody do some surfing for me...
Please...
In spite of the advertisement, there is no business center in the hotel. Just Damn...
I'm walking my rear end off wandering around in downtown Charleston, WV with my camera in hand, in a total state of internet withdrawal, and I found this Kinkos/Fed X center and here I am...
It's going down to 29 degrees F tonight and I'm standing around in my Hawaiian shirt.
Somebody do some surfing for me...
Please...
Weekend Reading Assignments
Here...Look At This While I'm Gone...
I know that a lot of my readers are internet pros, but some of you never bother to follow my links to other websites and blogs that really are good reading.
Just in case the world ends or I and my luggage get lost for a few days, I want to point out what I would be reading if I manage to find a computer and an internet connection.
First there are the guys over at Powerline , then there is my blog idol Captain Ed over at Captains Quarters.
And finally, for those that like their humor and blogging in a visual format, there's Rodger over at Curmudgeonly & Skeptical.
Now don't blame me if you're bored between now and Tuesday night...
I know that a lot of my readers are internet pros, but some of you never bother to follow my links to other websites and blogs that really are good reading.
Just in case the world ends or I and my luggage get lost for a few days, I want to point out what I would be reading if I manage to find a computer and an internet connection.
First there are the guys over at Powerline , then there is my blog idol Captain Ed over at Captains Quarters.
And finally, for those that like their humor and blogging in a visual format, there's Rodger over at Curmudgeonly & Skeptical.
Now don't blame me if you're bored between now and Tuesday night...
Weather Delays
My Eyes Are Rolling Back Into My Head Already
Have I ever mentioned that I’m what is known as a “Road Warrior”?
Well, if I haven’t—I’m saying so now.
I’m an expert traveler—domestically and internationally, and although I do my best to have a good time traveling, anyone that has traveled for a living knows the truth of what I say…
TRAVELING BY AIR GENERALLY SUCKS...
at least it does if you’re not the one doing the flying. Since my 3rd class FAA medical has run out, I have to sit in one of the rear seats and the view from there just isn’t quite the same.
Also, if the moronic crowds and amateur travelers don’t get you, the weather always will.
That would be the case today…the weather, that is.
Don’t get me wrong here…things are obviously better in 2006 than they were in the days of Conestoga wagon trains on the old Chisholm trail and all that, but just damn—I’m sitting here watching the Weather Channel and looking at the NOAA web site and I can already see that my flight from Brunswick to Atlanta and/or my flight from Atlanta to Charleston will probably be delayed.
Bumpy as hell flight time will most likely ensue, but I still have to leave for the airport at 5:00 AM else risk missing my flight.
At least I have all day to get where I’m going, and I have absolutely nothing productive to do until Monday, so I guess I’ll just sit in the airports and twiddle my thumbs and pick my nose and try to take a nap if I can find a comfortable chair.
I’d almost rather not know my fate and take my chances with any surprises that pop up, but instead I’m forced to add a couple of additional hours of DREAD to my overextended itinerary of time wasting torture.
Will someone please hit the “EASY” button?
Have I ever mentioned that I’m what is known as a “Road Warrior”?
Well, if I haven’t—I’m saying so now.
I’m an expert traveler—domestically and internationally, and although I do my best to have a good time traveling, anyone that has traveled for a living knows the truth of what I say…
TRAVELING BY AIR GENERALLY SUCKS...
at least it does if you’re not the one doing the flying. Since my 3rd class FAA medical has run out, I have to sit in one of the rear seats and the view from there just isn’t quite the same.
Also, if the moronic crowds and amateur travelers don’t get you, the weather always will.
That would be the case today…the weather, that is.
Don’t get me wrong here…things are obviously better in 2006 than they were in the days of Conestoga wagon trains on the old Chisholm trail and all that, but just damn—I’m sitting here watching the Weather Channel and looking at the NOAA web site and I can already see that my flight from Brunswick to Atlanta and/or my flight from Atlanta to Charleston will probably be delayed.
Bumpy as hell flight time will most likely ensue, but I still have to leave for the airport at 5:00 AM else risk missing my flight.
At least I have all day to get where I’m going, and I have absolutely nothing productive to do until Monday, so I guess I’ll just sit in the airports and twiddle my thumbs and pick my nose and try to take a nap if I can find a comfortable chair.
I’d almost rather not know my fate and take my chances with any surprises that pop up, but instead I’m forced to add a couple of additional hours of DREAD to my overextended itinerary of time wasting torture.
Will someone please hit the “EASY” button?
