Wednesday, December 16, 2015
Wednesday, November 25, 2015
It is Official -- Our newest Terror Organization inside the US
U.S. Code Tittle 22 Chapter 38, Section 2656f(d) defines terrorism as:
“Premeditated, politically motivated violence perpetrated against
noncombatant targets by sub-national groups or clandestine agents,
usually intended to influence an audience.”[18]
Women across the country, in particular low-income women, can't afford a party who will hack away at reproductive choices, economic mobility, and healthcare access to curry favor with the radical fringe who now are calling all the shots in the Republican party.
Yes, it is sad but true. McCarthy would be proud of them. The Klan will rise again but wearing elephants cloths. The Black Panthers look like mild mannered geniuses compared to this bunch. Hitler would have banned the Republican presidential candidates for being a threat to logic. Jesus would have called them a "brood of vipers" and would have to forgive them because they know not what the fuck they are doing and how much trouble and harm they are causing.
They, the republican wackadoodle political party by design and plan are attacking "Freedom" at its core, intellectually, politically, socially, economically and spiritually. All freedoms are at risk. All religions are at risk. These people would not know a christian if it came riding in on a donkey. The attacks are now becoming physical toward protesters, reporters and other organizations. The policies they are backing will harm many, many millions, cost many billions and further crumble our once great nation. They believe "education and learning" has a liberal bias and therefore should be discouraged. Some of them know their policies are nothing new in history (Hitler, Stalin, Peron) so if we can keep the new kids from learning about slaves and call them "plantation workers" they will not have to explain why certain religions or races (Japanese internment) must not have all the rights of other citizens.
I agree with many that our society is too crude and amoral, I agree that abortion is "ending a life" and the government spends way to much money. I think these things need to be fixed. You just do not do it by eliminating civil liberties and adopting racist, fascist policies. It just takes to long to undo those kinds of policies. North Korea is still 10 years away from change. It took the Soviet Union 40 years to undo its policies.
Just call it what it is -- a terrorist plot
Trump On Attacked Protester: 'Maybe He Should Have Been Roughed Up'
Ted Cruz is so thrilled that someone who wants abortion providers to be killed and is supporting him that he actually sent out a press release to celebrate the endorsement. Is that what this Republican primary has come to? Presidential candidates applauding -- not denouncing -- these radically extreme positions?Women across the country, in particular low-income women, can't afford a party who will hack away at reproductive choices, economic mobility, and healthcare access to curry favor with the radical fringe who now are calling all the shots in the Republican party.
Yes, it is sad but true. McCarthy would be proud of them. The Klan will rise again but wearing elephants cloths. The Black Panthers look like mild mannered geniuses compared to this bunch. Hitler would have banned the Republican presidential candidates for being a threat to logic. Jesus would have called them a "brood of vipers" and would have to forgive them because they know not what the fuck they are doing and how much trouble and harm they are causing.
They, the republican wackadoodle political party by design and plan are attacking "Freedom" at its core, intellectually, politically, socially, economically and spiritually. All freedoms are at risk. All religions are at risk. These people would not know a christian if it came riding in on a donkey. The attacks are now becoming physical toward protesters, reporters and other organizations. The policies they are backing will harm many, many millions, cost many billions and further crumble our once great nation. They believe "education and learning" has a liberal bias and therefore should be discouraged. Some of them know their policies are nothing new in history (Hitler, Stalin, Peron) so if we can keep the new kids from learning about slaves and call them "plantation workers" they will not have to explain why certain religions or races (Japanese internment) must not have all the rights of other citizens.
I agree with many that our society is too crude and amoral, I agree that abortion is "ending a life" and the government spends way to much money. I think these things need to be fixed. You just do not do it by eliminating civil liberties and adopting racist, fascist policies. It just takes to long to undo those kinds of policies. North Korea is still 10 years away from change. It took the Soviet Union 40 years to undo its policies.
Just call it what it is -- a terrorist plot
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
Pull the head out!
I have lived a life of quiet ignorance related to lots of stuff. I just do not pay much attention some times. I am constantly amazed when my brothers and sisters tell me stories of mom and dad arguing or about mom talking to neighbors down the street. Mom and dad were friends with the parents of kids I knew while growing up but did not know they knew them. This cluelessness does not apply to all aspects of my life. I try to stay up with current events although I consciously do not follow the Kardasians.
Ok, the clarification of my clueless nature is over and you will not find anyone to disagree with my lack thereof. I do like to make very subtle jokes. I get sort of offended when people do not understand my jokes. They are important to me. I work in a place where free thought is greatly under-appreciated. Free thought and creative action is squashed into oblivion by desk instructions, witch hunt panels and an army of bored, feeble minded quality inspectors that could not recognize a good idea if it fell through the roof. Quality is not job one, it is paperwork, tons of paperwork. They would quite emphatically write a thirty page memo with charts, pictures and erroneous logic recommending that we instigate a policy to prevent good ideas from just falling from not only the ceiling but most obviously from the sky since after-all, the idea probably did not grow on the roof and work its way through the roof to eventually fall from the ceiling. A splinter panel would be assembled to make sure there are no good ideas growing on the roof. Great effort will be made to not stifle the original investigation and push the cost of the investigation up to something more ridiculous.
There is a group of people that will visit our facility and they have named the project CREAM, an acronym. Since the rule is that before you name a project, an acronym of some creativity must drive the project name. So since I know this project is not related to the Dairy Council, the acronym probably gives inference to something else. Now, I am fifty seven years old and most of the senior managers on projects that come to our facility are about my age also. For someone that is this age there is only one possibility of what CREAM refers to unless you are from Utah, Saudi Arabia or Krakatoa somewhere near Java.
So, I asked the people at the Operations Desk(they coordinate with visiting programs), who are in Rock and Roll bands on the week ends and about the same age as me why they did not tell me that Eric Clapton was going to be in the facility? NOTHING! I could hear tears fall on the carpet it was so quiet. Now I know it was subtle but come on guys, its "Cream", one of the most creative and important bands in our time. Our time, not our children's time but I bet my kids would have caught the joke and maybe even laughed.
Thinking this was a pretty good joke, I knew of a group of people that I considered free thinkers and that were about my same age. They only rarely had their heads up there ass. I set the joke up with the a story about a visiting program, blah, blah, blah, called Cream. I said, "When Eric Clapton gets here I am going to get his autograph". They laughed and promptly ran a Youtube video of "Strange Brew". I could feel the love in the room. I told them of the disaster at the Operations Desk and they shook their heads weepingly. "What is wrong with them?" they said. I know! Retirement cannot come too soon for them or me.
Ok, the clarification of my clueless nature is over and you will not find anyone to disagree with my lack thereof. I do like to make very subtle jokes. I get sort of offended when people do not understand my jokes. They are important to me. I work in a place where free thought is greatly under-appreciated. Free thought and creative action is squashed into oblivion by desk instructions, witch hunt panels and an army of bored, feeble minded quality inspectors that could not recognize a good idea if it fell through the roof. Quality is not job one, it is paperwork, tons of paperwork. They would quite emphatically write a thirty page memo with charts, pictures and erroneous logic recommending that we instigate a policy to prevent good ideas from just falling from not only the ceiling but most obviously from the sky since after-all, the idea probably did not grow on the roof and work its way through the roof to eventually fall from the ceiling. A splinter panel would be assembled to make sure there are no good ideas growing on the roof. Great effort will be made to not stifle the original investigation and push the cost of the investigation up to something more ridiculous.
There is a group of people that will visit our facility and they have named the project CREAM, an acronym. Since the rule is that before you name a project, an acronym of some creativity must drive the project name. So since I know this project is not related to the Dairy Council, the acronym probably gives inference to something else. Now, I am fifty seven years old and most of the senior managers on projects that come to our facility are about my age also. For someone that is this age there is only one possibility of what CREAM refers to unless you are from Utah, Saudi Arabia or Krakatoa somewhere near Java.
So, I asked the people at the Operations Desk(they coordinate with visiting programs), who are in Rock and Roll bands on the week ends and about the same age as me why they did not tell me that Eric Clapton was going to be in the facility? NOTHING! I could hear tears fall on the carpet it was so quiet. Now I know it was subtle but come on guys, its "Cream", one of the most creative and important bands in our time. Our time, not our children's time but I bet my kids would have caught the joke and maybe even laughed.
Thinking this was a pretty good joke, I knew of a group of people that I considered free thinkers and that were about my same age. They only rarely had their heads up there ass. I set the joke up with the a story about a visiting program, blah, blah, blah, called Cream. I said, "When Eric Clapton gets here I am going to get his autograph". They laughed and promptly ran a Youtube video of "Strange Brew". I could feel the love in the room. I told them of the disaster at the Operations Desk and they shook their heads weepingly. "What is wrong with them?" they said. I know! Retirement cannot come too soon for them or me.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
Jeffery the Guard Pig
 |
| Jeffery on patrol! |
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| "I need a nap!" |
 |
| "Formation, get in formation!" |
 |
| "If I can see them before they see me........" |
 |
| "Surprise is mine" |
Monday, August 31, 2015
None of that
I am so so aggravated about everything. I do not think that is an overstatement or an exaggeration. Can a person really be aggravated about EVERY THING? The older I get the more I think it is possible.
Age can throw an entire bunch of new challenges your way. With eyesight fading and body parts aching that never ached before, the total number of grievances is increased before you even open your eyes in the morning to start another exasperating day. I woke up with a headache and realized I was having a dream about getting the hell beat out of me in a hotel bathroom. Symbolism aside, why was I in a hotel bathroom at all? While sleeping, I had a pain in my knee that made me jerk myself almost completely out of my bed. It was obviously a misfire of the nerves because as I was flying off the bed I was thinking "I wonder if narcotics would help prevent this flying out of bed shit?" My meth-head neighbors could enlighten me on a possible solution.
I think a shift in my attitude started last week at work when the Safety Committed was and still is suggesting that we initiate a "fatigue" evaluation form, more useless paperwork, for people who are going to be working overtime hours. They want to make sure we do not fall asleep on the drive home after working overtime and blame it on the company. Ninety three percent of the people where I work are resting with their heads up there butts seventy nine percent of the day anyway. The drive home is the most exciting physical and mental challenge of the day. We are not garbage collectors, who by the way in my city do not even get out of the truck anymore. They just scoop up the bin with a noisy pincher like thing and dump it in the back of the truck. We are not ditch diggers or Wichita linemen so sitting in the fetal position for another few hours is not taxing to anything. They pay us straight time anyway so the company could not give a shit what we are doing after hours except if they can show the lawyers that it looks like they care about us.
Grammar, now there is a real peach. I have used many words so far that have double letters in them. The "double g" thing always looks wrong. Then there is the "i before e" thing and the words you want to pluralize that end in n. Do you use "es" or just "s" or shit for that matter. There are words like "everything". Is it one or two words? With "butts" and "diggers" and "aggravation" all rushing to my head the instant I wake up and trying to write this rant down before I forget it, there is a possibility I am dropping wing nuts right and left. I just changed that last sentence because I could not remember if the word loose as in loosen or lose as in losing my mind was correct. I know now I do not give a fuck. It is not like anyone is going to be reading this blog. Well there is those two hackers from the Ukraine that seem to be trying to read this stuff.
And about waking up. Every morning when I wake up, a song streams into my head. This morning it was "Martha, My Dear". Yesterday it was "Lolly, Lolly, Lolly get your Adverbs here". Why is Grammar (double letters, shit) Rock getting in my brain? If that is not bad enough, last week I woke up to "Beat It". This went on for three days, and I do not even know the words to Beat It. I would be at the ATM trying to skim someones account and my head would be bobbing (shit) to the beat of Beat It making up words as I go. Sometimes my morning jingle is a TV commercial like "Zestfully clean". Aggravating!
The top of the list of things that are bothering me is the fact that really I do not have any friends. Who would want one that has joints that make more noise than a freight train and who runs around singing "zestfully clean" as he searches for his car in the mall parking lot. I have a pen pal (without looking it up this could be one word) that answers with one sentence answers, not much bonding going on there. I remember reading the letters of Ernest Hemingway and the journal letters of Emily Dickinson and thinking how great it would be to have pen pals like that. My friends are the people I work with and whenever I try to get together with one of them outside of work I get an answer like "I have to cut grass with my wife's vagina" or my son has a Cricket game in NJ that week end. My wife is not my best friend, well she is steadily climbing the ladder partially by default but also because increasingly she is the only one who puts up with my bullshit.
My children have finally reached the age where I barely recognize them and I guess it is supposed to be that way. They are a faint vision, a mere whiff of the little kids I laughed with and at All Those Years Ago. Oh no, another song in my head. The kids say and do things I do not approve of or I am sure I never hinted they do. They are grown and I have to hold my tongue sometimes. I need to refresh their memory that I am still their parent and I can say anything I want. It is there fault I hate kids. My grand-kids are getting the brunt of that new attitude. I am a grouchy old man. I am not apologizing (damn, one "p") for it. That is the way it is. I fully understand how a drug fiend of a drunk could abuse a child. I am inches and seconds away from it most of the time. If my resolve was weakened by drugs or my fortitude was dulled with alcohol, any child screaming "don't touch me" to his sibling for the three hundredth time would push me way past the edge of reality. I cannot take it much longer. I may have been a shinning example of parenting long ago but now I am a danger to myself and others. I tell them, "if you play by the street and you get hit by a car I am not taking you to the hospital, you can bleed all over somewhere else and wait for you mom to come get you, it is your choice."
At my residence I have seven horses, a pig, two ducks, two dogs, five chickens, four cats and one teenager. I had a hermit crab, Herman of course, but he ran away under the house. One of the cats went missing last month and I think the hermit crab got him. I found a giant discarded conch shell in the pasture. Yes, I hate animals. Actually, I love animals but something has to give. Jeffery the pig is the cutest thing even though he now weighs ninety pounds. He was raised in the house but now he lives on the back porch. He has a wading pool, a hovel and fifteen acres to roam in. Animals are everywhere and my grand-kids torment the shit out of all of them. The animals run for the hills when the kids come over. The cats are under the couch and in closets. My kids love animals but do not want to take care of them. I cannot walk in my yard without stepping on, in or around something. I cannot leave the door open or a barnyard animal my come in the house. The chickens and Jeffery like the air conditioning. The horses like the porch and the ducks are just nasty creatures and I wish they would run the cats off. The dogs are useless barking fart machines. Three barks a fart and a bark. That means the mail man is coming or the Nazi three houses up is flying his plane again.
I am missing three window screens. They are metal and they are not ambulatory. I could see one disappearing because of the wind or the cat pushing one out but not three. There is some kind of conspiracy concerning window screens. Why I do not know. It is a devious and dark thing I tell you. I am missing a machete, a saws-all, a catcher's glove and pogo stick. If you see a crazed maniac boinging down the road on a pogo stick swinging a machete with a tree trimmer in his belt yelling "strike three you are out" he stole all of that stuff from my house and he needs analysis because the machete is dull, the battery on the saws-all is dead, the pogo stick veers to the left and the glove has a hole in it. Ask him about my widow screens. Ass hole.
I have no money, no sex, no prospects for either, a mortgage, an old car, animal shit all over the place. I do get fresh eggs from the chickens but my family will not eat them because they taste funny and it was my idea to eat them in the first place. If it was my idea to go somewhere, eat anything, do anything, fix anything the answer is no thanks. My son says, Dad, can you go buy me a milk shake? No son, I can make you one with the ice cream we have in the freezer. No dad, it will not taste the same. My wife acts like I am trying to poison her. No dear, even though I am hungry, it looks good I just do not want that right now, did you spit in it? No, I did put hemlock in it and I found something in the back of the fridge that I used for blue cheese dressing.
There are actually more things to be aggravated at than I can even write down or remember at this time. I wish I could say this venting helped but it really did not.
Age can throw an entire bunch of new challenges your way. With eyesight fading and body parts aching that never ached before, the total number of grievances is increased before you even open your eyes in the morning to start another exasperating day. I woke up with a headache and realized I was having a dream about getting the hell beat out of me in a hotel bathroom. Symbolism aside, why was I in a hotel bathroom at all? While sleeping, I had a pain in my knee that made me jerk myself almost completely out of my bed. It was obviously a misfire of the nerves because as I was flying off the bed I was thinking "I wonder if narcotics would help prevent this flying out of bed shit?" My meth-head neighbors could enlighten me on a possible solution.
I think a shift in my attitude started last week at work when the Safety Committed was and still is suggesting that we initiate a "fatigue" evaluation form, more useless paperwork, for people who are going to be working overtime hours. They want to make sure we do not fall asleep on the drive home after working overtime and blame it on the company. Ninety three percent of the people where I work are resting with their heads up there butts seventy nine percent of the day anyway. The drive home is the most exciting physical and mental challenge of the day. We are not garbage collectors, who by the way in my city do not even get out of the truck anymore. They just scoop up the bin with a noisy pincher like thing and dump it in the back of the truck. We are not ditch diggers or Wichita linemen so sitting in the fetal position for another few hours is not taxing to anything. They pay us straight time anyway so the company could not give a shit what we are doing after hours except if they can show the lawyers that it looks like they care about us.
Grammar, now there is a real peach. I have used many words so far that have double letters in them. The "double g" thing always looks wrong. Then there is the "i before e" thing and the words you want to pluralize that end in n. Do you use "es" or just "s" or shit for that matter. There are words like "everything". Is it one or two words? With "butts" and "diggers" and "aggravation" all rushing to my head the instant I wake up and trying to write this rant down before I forget it, there is a possibility I am dropping wing nuts right and left. I just changed that last sentence because I could not remember if the word loose as in loosen or lose as in losing my mind was correct. I know now I do not give a fuck. It is not like anyone is going to be reading this blog. Well there is those two hackers from the Ukraine that seem to be trying to read this stuff.
And about waking up. Every morning when I wake up, a song streams into my head. This morning it was "Martha, My Dear". Yesterday it was "Lolly, Lolly, Lolly get your Adverbs here". Why is Grammar (double letters, shit) Rock getting in my brain? If that is not bad enough, last week I woke up to "Beat It". This went on for three days, and I do not even know the words to Beat It. I would be at the ATM trying to skim someones account and my head would be bobbing (shit) to the beat of Beat It making up words as I go. Sometimes my morning jingle is a TV commercial like "Zestfully clean". Aggravating!
The top of the list of things that are bothering me is the fact that really I do not have any friends. Who would want one that has joints that make more noise than a freight train and who runs around singing "zestfully clean" as he searches for his car in the mall parking lot. I have a pen pal (without looking it up this could be one word) that answers with one sentence answers, not much bonding going on there. I remember reading the letters of Ernest Hemingway and the journal letters of Emily Dickinson and thinking how great it would be to have pen pals like that. My friends are the people I work with and whenever I try to get together with one of them outside of work I get an answer like "I have to cut grass with my wife's vagina" or my son has a Cricket game in NJ that week end. My wife is not my best friend, well she is steadily climbing the ladder partially by default but also because increasingly she is the only one who puts up with my bullshit.
My children have finally reached the age where I barely recognize them and I guess it is supposed to be that way. They are a faint vision, a mere whiff of the little kids I laughed with and at All Those Years Ago. Oh no, another song in my head. The kids say and do things I do not approve of or I am sure I never hinted they do. They are grown and I have to hold my tongue sometimes. I need to refresh their memory that I am still their parent and I can say anything I want. It is there fault I hate kids. My grand-kids are getting the brunt of that new attitude. I am a grouchy old man. I am not apologizing (damn, one "p") for it. That is the way it is. I fully understand how a drug fiend of a drunk could abuse a child. I am inches and seconds away from it most of the time. If my resolve was weakened by drugs or my fortitude was dulled with alcohol, any child screaming "don't touch me" to his sibling for the three hundredth time would push me way past the edge of reality. I cannot take it much longer. I may have been a shinning example of parenting long ago but now I am a danger to myself and others. I tell them, "if you play by the street and you get hit by a car I am not taking you to the hospital, you can bleed all over somewhere else and wait for you mom to come get you, it is your choice."
At my residence I have seven horses, a pig, two ducks, two dogs, five chickens, four cats and one teenager. I had a hermit crab, Herman of course, but he ran away under the house. One of the cats went missing last month and I think the hermit crab got him. I found a giant discarded conch shell in the pasture. Yes, I hate animals. Actually, I love animals but something has to give. Jeffery the pig is the cutest thing even though he now weighs ninety pounds. He was raised in the house but now he lives on the back porch. He has a wading pool, a hovel and fifteen acres to roam in. Animals are everywhere and my grand-kids torment the shit out of all of them. The animals run for the hills when the kids come over. The cats are under the couch and in closets. My kids love animals but do not want to take care of them. I cannot walk in my yard without stepping on, in or around something. I cannot leave the door open or a barnyard animal my come in the house. The chickens and Jeffery like the air conditioning. The horses like the porch and the ducks are just nasty creatures and I wish they would run the cats off. The dogs are useless barking fart machines. Three barks a fart and a bark. That means the mail man is coming or the Nazi three houses up is flying his plane again.
I am missing three window screens. They are metal and they are not ambulatory. I could see one disappearing because of the wind or the cat pushing one out but not three. There is some kind of conspiracy concerning window screens. Why I do not know. It is a devious and dark thing I tell you. I am missing a machete, a saws-all, a catcher's glove and pogo stick. If you see a crazed maniac boinging down the road on a pogo stick swinging a machete with a tree trimmer in his belt yelling "strike three you are out" he stole all of that stuff from my house and he needs analysis because the machete is dull, the battery on the saws-all is dead, the pogo stick veers to the left and the glove has a hole in it. Ask him about my widow screens. Ass hole.
I have no money, no sex, no prospects for either, a mortgage, an old car, animal shit all over the place. I do get fresh eggs from the chickens but my family will not eat them because they taste funny and it was my idea to eat them in the first place. If it was my idea to go somewhere, eat anything, do anything, fix anything the answer is no thanks. My son says, Dad, can you go buy me a milk shake? No son, I can make you one with the ice cream we have in the freezer. No dad, it will not taste the same. My wife acts like I am trying to poison her. No dear, even though I am hungry, it looks good I just do not want that right now, did you spit in it? No, I did put hemlock in it and I found something in the back of the fridge that I used for blue cheese dressing.
There are actually more things to be aggravated at than I can even write down or remember at this time. I wish I could say this venting helped but it really did not.
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