Sunday, December 25, 2011

Merry Christkwannukahnaliativus--you can figure it out.

So, here it is, Christmas, AGAIN!

It's been a wild and wooly (well, wooly for me is considerably, like, thinner than it used to be) year.  Lotsa good stuff has happened, but I can't remeber what it was!

Life here in Upstate NY is interesting.  We had a late start to summer and then a long, lingering fall.  We've had less than 2 inches of snow the last I heard.  Usually by this time we're up to our butts in the white (well, okay, gray) stuff and not having picked up all the junk in the yard doesn't seem like that much of an issue.  It's been pretty warm (relatively speaking), only getting as low as the single digits once or twice--it's currently about 30 degrees @ 7:45 AM. 

The house is slowly getting to the point where it looks like a house.  I could show you some pikchoors, but I don't want to scare anybody!

Buddy The Wonder Dog, my new roommate is currently sleeping under a nice warm fleece, on the rocking chair which is about 3 feet away from the pellet stove.  He's snug as a bug in a rug and I'm sure he's dreaming about the squirrels that he can never catch in meatspace.  Pretty soon, we'll go out for a Christmas Constitutional and he'll be checking every tree, shrub, utility pole and guy and any people moving too slowly to escape, to see if his property markers are still in good order.  Then we'll come home and he'll have his breakfast of roast beef, sweet potatoes, rice and green beans while I enjoy my special Christmas Gruel ( the same ol', same ol', oatmeal with craisins, pecans & maple syrple).  Then we'll sit around till lunchtime when I will have some roast beef, sweet potatoes, rice and green beans AND some more special Christmas Gruel (but in honor of the day, it will be flambeed with a cup of Everclear and a soupcon of Dr. McGillicuddy's peppermint schnapps).  Buddy will be havin' teh kibble.

In years past I have written "humorous" Christmas letters, chock-full-o-nuttiness, about the fictional goings on of various celebrities and politicians.  I was thinking about doing that this year, but due to a shortage of the Rumnog and my Muse's having run off with the UPS guy, I was unable to conjure up the requisite imagery.  I suggest, instead, that you simply google "GOP primary" or watch a marathon of those "Hollywood" exposee thingies.  I cannot (at least in the last 30 years) take enough illicit substances to conjure up the sorts of fiction that is, in fact, fact out there in LAlaland and down in D.C.

I wish you all a very Merry Christmas (if that's what floats your boat) or other holiday festiveissnees.  I look forward to visiting as many of you as possible in the next year--and I WILL be travelling with Buddy (he's got an Amex Black!) so get out the guest waterbowl!

Cheers and warmest regards from your favorite uncle/peace loving dope.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Me and Mr. Picasso and, um, Klaus Barbie

As of today I am on the gummint teat and it is sweet!  That's right, allayouyoung whippersnappers, I turned 62 at 5:sumpin,sumpin this morning.  I want all of you to have a piece of birthday cake, tell old fart jokes and GET THE HELL OFFA MY LAWN!

Friday, October 21, 2011

This:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/michael-ford/ayn-rand-and-the-vip-dipe_b_792184.html
 
is almost a year old but I just saw it.

Ford's article highlights the hypocrisy of one of the many instances where conservatards say one thing for the soundbite and say/do something entirely different when the klieg lights are turned off.

A number of my friends think I'm just too damned nasty to people with whom I disagree, that would be their perception, not reality.  I am perfectly happy to debate the merits of laissez faire capitalism v marxist run GODless nannygummint.  Or, I would be, if there was a marxist run GODless nannygummint in place in the U.S. 

What we actually have is a fairly right of center executive branch, a very right of center judiciary and a legislature that is divided into a very right of center Senate and a batshit KKKrazzeeHouse.

Many of the freshman class of SKKKrotalMurKKKinPatriotiKKK legislators spend taxpayer money to flit about he countryside encouraging their constituents to vote out the wasteful liebrals who are throwin MY MONEY away.

Teabaggists are using government to try to abolish same--except that where fuckin', druggin', drinkin' and gamblin are concerned. they're all for draconian laws, lots of enforcers and hard time. 

More later, I gotta go do some scullery work for a fundraiser tonight--

The fundraiser was a success, lots of good food and happy people.

This evening I was talking to someone who tried to tell me that Obama is the worst imaginable president and that he's done nothing and doesn't know how to lead.  When I told him that approximately half of the U.S. Congress has a scorched earth policy concerning governance his counter was that a good "leader" would not let that happen--as if there is fuck all that any president can do about congress.  Then he made a comment along the lines of the WSO protestors being a bunch of fools.  I will admit that got my blood percolatin' a bit faster.  I told him that the difference between the WSO and the SKMPF*  (other than the fact that WSO seems to have some idea what the term "coherent" means) is that the Kochsuckers aren't funding the WSO,.  and, oh yeah, the Teabaggists are, in far too many instances for it to be a coincidence, racists. 

He then said that all Obama wants to do is bring bands to the WH to play.  I then told him I was done talking to him because I won't debate with people whose arguments are racist.  It's not what I really wanted to say.  I wanted to tell him that he was a complete fucking asshole.  I did tell him that he was a racist, which he denied.  I am really amazed, sometimes, at the level of cognitive dissonance on the right.


*  SKKKrotalMurKKKinPatriotiKKK Front

Monday, October 10, 2011

Hank Williams, Jr.  be ridin' in the Whaaaaaaaaaambulance; St. Sarah, the Impalinator of Wassilla be griftin' her indignorant supporters and the GOPinheads' candidates be implodin' on themselves.  The true tragedy in all of this is that the aforementioned will simply be rebranded or replaced in the hearts and mindlessness of the SKKKrotalMerKKKinPatriotiKKK Front.  At best we will wind up with some piece of shit like Mittunswillard Romney doin' backflip-flops to convince the FarsideRight that he's oneathem, while, simultaneously trying to convince those of us with brains that he is oneaus.  At worst, well, fuck it, I don't even want to think about what sort of slime coats the bottom of the cesspit that the GOP has become.

The "Party of Personal Responsibility" has become almost incapable of self-grooming.  The "Base" whether it's 2.6%, 26% or 62% of the electorate is demonstrating a level of teh batshit KKKrazzee that is beyond self-parody. 

If it's not the fact that the talking shitheads parrot the demagogues'  "liberals control the media" or "George Soros is buying the MerKKKin political process", it's their reporting*  with a straight face that people like Missy Bachman or Herman Cain actually have, y'know, some fucking clue about governance.  Meanwhile the protests on Wall Street and other financial centers--worldwide--, the continuing financial daterape of the middle class by those who are in the buildings on Wall Street and other financial centers and a host of other genuine issues are conveniently ignored by the corportatist controlled media**.

The American middleclass, with whom I swam from 1998--2005 (a period when I had semi-decent pay, health insurance and some sort of retirement/pension plan) is being decimated.  This is not being done with gunz or goosesteppin'hobnailedjacknannies but, rather, by habitat destruction.   American small business is being extirpated in its natural range; not by taxes and regulation but by increasing corporate hegemony. 

The small city I live in has many of the same names on the front of the stores that I would see in San Francisco, San Antonio, Des Moines, Chicago, Boston or Tampa--and a thousand or more other cities and towns. 

When I go shopping I sometimes ask why I can't find an item at the local big box (yeah, I shop there when I have to) only to be told that they don't move enough units to make it profitable to stock the item.  I'm not talking about exotic shit, I'm talking about a plumbing fitting, electrical connector or piece of builiding hardware.  The big boxes have run the smaller stores out of business, one way or another, and they simply don't have to worry about competition.  The local Wal-Mart and the local store of regional grocer both charge more for their products than other stores in the same chain that are 10-12 miles away.  Why?  because they can.

I belong to the local Chamber of Commerce and they work their asses off to promote local businesses.  What's really bizarre is that he U.S. Chamber of Commerce does exactly the opposite. 

It's sad that, for those of you with children, the odds are not in their favor.  They will not enjoy an ever expanding economy.  They will not be able, in many cases, to live the "American Dream".  They will be living, instead, with a crushing burden of national debt that constrains or prevents economic expansion.  Jobs which used to be done by well paid U.S. citizens are now being done by people who are paid much less, people who have no unions, no labor friendly legislators, no government controls to speak of on their rapacious and insatiable employers and no benefits worth mentioning. 

It seems that the Kochsuckers and their ilk have a plan to return the U.S. to the days of the Johnstown Flood when 2,200 or more people lost their lives after a "disaster" at a privately owned dam inundated the city of Johnstown, PA; the days of the Shirtwaist Factory fire when over 125 women were incinerated in a NYC sweatshop; the days of the unregulated trucking, mining, telecom and manufacturing industries when money spoke louder than any other voice.  They wish to return us to a time when governmental social welfare was virtually non-existent and public monies were spent, primarily, to fund fire and police departments, build roads and other public infrastructure--to and from the corporatists' business properties  and damned little else.

Elections are coming up.  Once again, the DNC is dancing as hard as it can to the right, attempting to emulate the heartlessness and obdurate, willful ignorance of the GOP.  I have no particular hope that this will change.  I do, however, intend to do what I can to slow the cancerous advance of rightwing wrongheadedness.  One of the few things we can all do is to contact our pols and the media and demand that they be engaged in and honest about those things that are truly important in this country.  I wish us well in that endeavor.





*       Read, "mailing it in", "lying" or other suitable word or phrase.

**     Which seems to be most of it, above the level of your "Weekly Shopper" publication.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAhhh, ssweet suffrin' 900'  JESUS  with the frikkin' laser eyes on  a pogo stick!


This is NOT the post I wanted to write but there you go.


On Thursday last, I left the house in a bit of  a hurry and, in so doing, donned a pair of shorts that were comfortable in a previous, less adipositive existence.  I went to Fulton, the next town over, did a very quick chore at a friend's commercial building, stopped by his office and dropped off the keys and then went home.  Gone from the house an hour, tops.

By the time I got back to the house, it was all I could do to hobble up the stairs, shuck the uni of the day and get prone.  Sciatica, for those of you who have not been unfortunate enough to have it is probably second cousin to waterboarding in the torture department--except when you're being waterboarded you don't WANT to die.

On friday, after a truly miserable night, I called the Syracuse VA ER and asked them what the protocols were for coming there.  They told me I had to speak to my PCP, first and follow his directions.  I put in a call to the PCP (talked to the nurse, a very nice and competent young woman) and told them what had happened and that I needed two prescriptions, one for Peroxicam and one for Lyrica or something else that would attenuate nerve pain.  This was at about 8:30 AM.  Finally, three phone tags later, at about 4:40 I was told that the doctor would write a scrip for Meloxicam (a better version, so they say, of the Peroxicam formulation) and 5/500 Hydrocodone tablets (they're sort of like white M&M's except they don't taste good and they lock up my guts like a bag of Sakrete).  Well, what're ya gonna do?  Okay, so when will I get the meds?  8-10 days. 

Well, that sorta sucked, but I used some leftovers from other bouts (never sure about the efficacy of three year old pharma) and got through the weekend.  Monday, I went to the local clinic to plead my case, talked to the same nurse (whose only the messenger--I blame her for nothing) and told her I had a history of sciatica and not one, but two, MRI's and a four yeart old x-ray, plus the radiologists and surgeon's notes to back it up.  I asked could we not just do a CT scan (quicker and cheaper, though not as definitive as an  MRI) to see if there were significant apparent changes in my S1-L5 spine.  I was told that they would schedule an x-ray and go from there. 

To get the x-ray I had to go Syracuse VA, unless I wanted to pull several non-existent Benjamins out of my pocket for the local hospital to do it.  So, I drove to Syracuse, hobbled into the medical center, had a nice lady force me into a wheelchair and push me to the Imaging departrment and got maybe 5 views.  At this point I was in enough pain to want other people to suffer with me.  But, instead I went down to the ER and sat there for about three and a half hours while they took care of other folks.  Now, sitting under a sign that says "Triage" and watching them take people with a fucking headcold in ahead of you, who are pretty much writhing in agony in a wheelchair, is somewhat ironic to say the least, but I'm nothing if not fucking POLITE, so I writhed more or less quietly. 

Finally, I got wheeled into the treatment area and put on a gurney.  After the preliminaries I got an ER doc (Oh, yeah, they asked THREE times if I had an x-ray, an x-ray which the nice lady in the imaging unit told me would be there in about twenty minutes from the time she took it--digital, cool!)  who checked me for a hernia (Okay, I admit it reminded me of HS--or maybe it was from when I was an Altar boy, I get confused, sometimes)  had me do some range of motion stuff and a couple of strength tests and then announced that it wasn't sciatica but, instead, a groin pull.  This was determined from the fact that I was experiencing pain similar to someone having shoved a piece of re-bar through my groin/hip area at approximately the mid-lines of the x-y axes of a line between my pubic bone and the outside of my hip bone and a line between my femur cap and my rib cage.  This was also determined in the absence of any bruising, swelling or localized tissue heating.  He intimated, in so many words, that I had given the PCP incorrect information and that I had reported a symptom as if it were a diagnosis, confusing the issue.  So, in other words, I was wasting the time and resources of his unit by being a crybaby and (just my opinion here) shopping for meds. 

I told him that I needed something for the pain and that Lyrica was the best thing that I had ever tried, as if killed the pain without any significant side effects for me.   He explained that they could not write that scrip as there is a continuum of pharma that they must adhere to and that the ER does not write for that medication.  So, of course he gave me 5/500 of oxycodone (the bitter white, M&M's), enough to last four days, supposedly and--thank CHRIST, he at least got this right--, 10 x 15mg of Meloxicam.  It only took me about twenty minutes to make the four minute walk to my truck in the parking lot. 

Wednesday morning I called the VA clinic, here, and told them that I had gone to the ER and was still in a lot of pain as the Oxycodone does nothing for nerve pain (in my experience) unless I take about EIGHT times the dose they have me on.  Well, the doctor, whom I have not seen or talked to, does not agree with me.  So, I ask if they want to see my MRI's and maybe, y'know, get a new one.  They said that would be a good idea, so I spent a painful hour or two moving things to find them (full disclosure, I am not a housekeeping sorta person) and drove them over to the clinic.  I ran a couple of errands, socialized (no alcohol) with some friends for a bit and then went back home and spent the rest of the night horizontal and feelin' shitty.

On Thursday, this is after 7 days of suffering,I got a call from the doctor, at 8:06 in the morning.  I could not reach the phone from my bed and by the time I got it, it had gone to message.   He said I should call himn back, which I did immediately.  Still no return call from him.   I then went online to check the status of my prescriptions that had been written last friday. They had been cancelled. It seems that the pharmacy in the VA hospital had "filled" them by processing the ER scripts.  I laid around the house in various "twister" poses trying to find one that hurt less than others until about 4:00PM.  The nurse called me back to tell me that the ER doc's report says that I am dealing with "spinal arthritis and a hip sprain"--not 'zacky what he told me--and that they would not be scheduling an MRI because it wasn't indicated.  I was also told that I could try six weeks of PT--in Syracuse--and if that didn't work that they would then schedule further tests.  I explained to the nurse that I could not afford to drive back and forth to Syracuse 3 times a week.  Okay, they said, well, there you are.  She agreed with me that my meds should not have been cancelled and that she would rewrite them and have them sent overnight (that would have really been nice LAST week).

Thursday night; wow, just not something I want to dwell on, or all day yesterday.  At about 1:30 in the afternoon I called the clinic and told them that the meds were not doing jack and that I was going to see if I could find somebody to drive me back down to the ER--me knowing and her agreeing that it might not do any good.  As it turned out that didn't happen and I spend last night wishing I had some heroin.  I did take a double dose of the Meloxicam (a very strong NSAID--the usual dose is 7.5mg/day) and crawled back into bed.  After another night of laying flat on my back, doing a lot of whimpering, I finally got to sleep around 5:30 AM.  While lying in pain I managed to find an ESPN broadcast of the Sox/Rays game (Sox WIN, Sox WINNNNN!!!!) and I think it did as much to alleviate the pain as the worthless oxy dosage.  When I got out of bed this morning, fully expecting to have to crawl to the bathroom, I was surprised to find that the incredible pain I had experienced when simply standing up had abated.  It's still sore as hell, but that I can live with.

Now, the part that is interesting is that the "groin pain" and the "hip pain" just don't exist, this morning.  A mystery of modern medicine, you say?  A miracle of modern pharma, you say?  Or is it that the "hip" and "groin" pains were symptoms of a diagnosis of sciatica?  Gosh, I wonder if any of the people who never looked at me or never looked at my history or the imaging that I offered them will admit that maybe, just maybe, I DID know wtf I was talking about--Nah, that wouldn't be the AMAway.

This screed, btw, is not an indictment of the VA in particular or the medical profession in general.  It is just me kvetching that healthcare providers in general and doctors, very much in particular, don't fucking LISTEN to their patients when their patients' "self-diagnosis" offends their sense of medical sciency knowing-it-alliness.

I just took the dog for a walkshitmarkin'therealm and he's all, like, "Man, are you over the screemin' shit--I worry about you when your eyes roll back in your head and you start talkin' in tongues.  Makes me think you might go all KKKristian on my ass!".  It's good to know that his perspective on what's important in life--water, food, shelter and layin' around sleepin' with his little doggy legs pumpin' while he growls and woofs--does not change in a world gone mad.



Friday, September 02, 2011

Over the last two years and eight months, approximately, a number of people whose blogs I spend time at elected to eschew "politics" as a divisive and, ultimately., fruitless endeavor.

We all need to do what we need to do, but when we stop blogging about politics (and politicians) we cede that "marketplace of ideas" to those who are committed to forcing their agenda(s) on the rest of us.

I've been accused of being a marxist (yesterday, by someone who thinks my "belief" in evolution--I don't "believe" in evolution, I accept that the facts of natural history are best explained by the Theory of Evolution--is trumped by his belief in CretinIDiocy).  I've been accused of being a liar, a communist, a liberal, a GODhater, an anti-gun crusader and a number of other things, none of which I am. 

I am someone who does not believe in allowing people who cherry pick their facts; use the Big Book of Celestial Fantasy Beings; repeat--without the least bit of research--ridiculous assertions, intended to demonize their opposition to do so without opposition.

You disagree with me?  fine.  You disagree with me and use lies to support your assertions or simply make assertions with no support?  Uh, fuck you.

The Democratic Party is in disarray, that's sort of the nature of democracies. The GOP is in disarray as well, but their disarray has more to do with cognitive dissonance, dog whistles pitched too high for any but the SKKKrotalMurKKKinPatriotiKKK Front to hear and long suppressed but never eradicated racist, homophobic, xenophobic and outright paranoic tendencies in the aforementioned SKPF. 

If the history of politics in the USA over the last 40 or so years has taught me anything, it is this.  Playing nice with assholes will not make THEM better people.  It will make the nice people less likely to get what they want in the process of  their governance.

Whether it's economics, fiscal policy, race relations, national security, social support for those less able or unable to provide for themselves, voting rights and a host of other concerns to ALL of us--letting the bullies lead is a horrendously bad idea. 

You don't gotta be like me and pick fights with almost everybody you disagree with, but you do have to show some sack, unless you're willing to give the other side everything they want--regardless that it will never be enough.

A coward and his lunch are soon parted.

Friday, August 19, 2011

The edumification of Missy Bachman & Reason takes a long fuckin' weekend.

It appears that Congressstepfordwife Michele Bachmann is aiming to be SP-Mark II* and St. Sarah the Wasillabilly has, AGAIN, quit her job--in this case the further cheapening (if such a thing is even possible) of the GOP's current campaign to regain the WH in 2012.

I was talking to a friend of mine, a genuine republican, who told me that his business is almost back to the level it was at before the Obamacession of 2008**.  He said his business was on track to equal its revenues for 2008--if the politicians quit fucking things up.  He was not talking about the democrats.

Meantime, between the Religiotards and the Gunzloonz we have more than enough of teh Batshit KKKrazzee to last through this century, never mind the current election cycle.

MissyB has said, publicly, that she WILL do what her husband tells her to do.  Considering that her husband is a quach who MADE her become a tax lawyer and who also runs a "Gay reparative" MH practice, well, it sounds like a recipe for disaster to me if she gets in the Oval Office.,

When this:

"And it's not surprising then that they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations,"

was said, by then Senator Barack Obama, it was decried by the Reichwing as a slam against the "average man".  Well, I suppose that's true, if you think of the "average man" as being a mouth-breathing troglodytic, superstitious, religiofanatical 2nd Amendment fetishitst.  Average men, regardless their religion or political persuasion, accept that the world is NOT modelled for them, by their favorite diety--as much as they might like it to be.

Average men (and women, as well) know that this world may be depended upon, to be undependable. 

It is a mark of one's intelligence to know that, "Shit happens!", it is a mark of one's wisdom to know that "Shit doesn't happen to me because bad people are fucking with GOD.".

Now, then, to the gunz thing.  After months of reading posts and comments at Mikeb302000's blog I have arrived at the conclusion that for a certain subset of MurKKKins, gunz ARE religion.  They are both a tool to achieve salvation and, in some cases, salvation itself.

I will admit that I have NO FUCKING IDEA how that conflation takes place in the heads of the gunzloonz, but that it happens is pretty damned obvious.

Seeing gunz as the tool for achieving justice, equality , security and self-respect is a lot like having nothing but a hammer in one's "toolbox".  When all you own is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail.  When your only tool is a gun (and not just a hunting weapon but something like an AR-15 or a Desert Eagle) than every "problem" starts to look like a would be strong-armed robber or home invader. 

I will admit that I finally got a "home defense system".  His photo is at the top of my last post.  Buddy has exceptional hearing, an incredibly sensitive nose and a good set of lungs.  He is my first line of defense.  If someone breaks in the house--or stands on my porch, he's gonna make da noize and alert me.  I'm then going to dial 911 and take my chances that the door and mattress will slow down any but the most dedicated assassin until the jackbooted Officer Friendlies show up. 

I could say a lot more on this subject but why drain the boil with a single lancing?

Besides, buddy just read this and said,"Yeah, right, that;'s great.  demoDUDE, throw me a bone.  No, I mean, it throw me a frikkin' BONE!.  Let's do "walkies", you know what a babemagnet I am?"


*      Sarah Palin, The Re-tread

**    Oh, yeah, go ahead and ACT surprised that the Uppitykenyatalizaridiantimetravellin'
        plot to wreck the MurKKKin economy was uncovered--I'm pretty sure it was in the
        Whirled Nuts Daily.

Monday, August 15, 2011

Buddy's new home

This is "Buddy".  Some of you may remember his photo from my christmas missive of two seasons back, or not.















Buddy is a mixed breed, approximately half dachshund and half gesundheit! You're welcome!  He's convinced that he's a Rottweiler but I don't let him tangle with the big dogs, wouldn't want him to embarass them.  He's also approaching middledoggieage, he's about seven.  He was a rescue, by the lady who I got him from.

He's living with me because the nice lady who had him for two and a half years is terminally ill and she wanted to be sure he had a good home (her son has 3 chihuahas and Buddy, he don't play dat) I told her that if she couldn't find anyone else to take him, I would.  I'm pretty sure she stopped looking after that.  The good news is that Buddy is housebroken, loves people and doesn't smoke.  The bad news is he drinks my beer, cheats at cards and farts, OMFG does he fart.  I mean you'd swear that no 15 pound dog on earth could make that much noise and stench, I mean you'd prolly guess it was the work of someone, like, my size. 

I caught him messing around on the computer yesterday, so if you get any weird anti-cat screeds, I'm not the one sending them, capice?  BTW, he might be checking my references and credit rating.  Ixnay on the ruthtay if you get my meaning. 







Friday, June 03, 2011

Apocapolitics Now

I remember when I saw the movie, "Omega Man"*--back in 1971--thinking that the crazed, photophobic followers of "John Matthias" were, fortunately, nothing but a SciFi author's nightmare of post-apocalyptic mankind.

Then, along came the SKKKrotalMerKKKinPatriotiKKK Party (know to some as the the Tea Party) to dispel that notion.

The current crop of GOP cant'idates stoking the fires and stroking the egos of their credulous and often viciously racist followers is truly awesome--and not in a good way.

Bachman,Bush,Gingrich,Huckabee,Palin,Pawlenty,Perry,Romney,The Dongald and others who are running, exploring, definitly not running (but exploring), definitely not running or exploring (but, curiously, still raising money, just in case!) and just sorta y'know battin' the idea arouind with a few friends and overpaid "conslutants"* make me long for REAL conservatives like Goldwaterr, Romney "Origins" or Al Haig--no, wait, fuck Al Haig, that bemedaled fop.

I mean, holeeeeeeeeeeeeee shit, is that the best that the GOP can come up with, the list of braindead or teh dogwhistling Batshit KKKrazzeefucks that are out there now?  These are, as a group, the worst slate of potential CinC's I've ever seen.  We're talking orders of magnitude.  Teh Burning Stoopit that is emenating from this crowd rivals the flash that consumed the dinosaurs when that giant meteor was lobbed into the Gulf of Mexico by a vengeful GOD 6,000 years ago***.

If this was a movie, I'd rate it right down there with "Cabin Boy", the worst movie I ever sat through.  But, it's not a movie, it's a glimpse of a future I won't really have to deal with for too long.  Today's youth and their fresh-faced 'rents, otoh, will have to deal with it and what's genuinely puzzling is that they don't seem to give a a shit.  Or, at least they don't give enough of a shit to actually educate themselves about the Fuckapalooza that the GOP's primary process has turned into. 

If only that phrase, "eating their own", were true then the GOP would solve the problem they have created.  I am saddened to note that it is not.



*      The movie in which Charlton Heston, pursued by a horde of murderous fiends may have received his epiphanic moment of clarity re: guns are THE problem solver.

**    No, it's not misspelled.

***  Okay, now you know what REALLY caused "The Flood".

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Blogger seems to be completely fucked lately.  I  am unable to leave comments at any blogger spots that I frequent.  Might be time to move on.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

What we need

I just finished watching the first episode of, "The Meaning Of Food", which was on PBS at some point.  Not having a television or cable leads to me not knowing a lot of stuff about "popular culture"--something that doesn't always feel like a loss--and I have no idea when the series originally ran.

It was quite an interesting program and I watched the whole thing even though it was very hard to watch at some points.  There was a lot of emotional upheaval for some of the people who were in the program and their pain was palpable, as was their joy when they were happy.  The process was quite affecting, actually.  It made me realize that there are a few things besides flaming trolls and tilting at every form of power that is not supplied by wind, solar, sun or other natural processes that I care deeply about.  One of them is food and feeding people.

One of the things I've missed most these last nearly twenty years is not being able to have people over for food and drink and conversation.  It's been that long since I've lived in a home in which I could cook the way I like to or enjoy the freedom to ask whomever I want to invite to come, sit and share food, drink and conversation.

I look around my house as I write this and am amazed that after three and a half years I still have not achieved the level of "livingness" that I desire AND I am amazed that I still look forward to getting there.  My kitchen is such that I can actually prepare food at this point.  My downstairs is sheetrocked, largely wired and plumbed and almost suitable for human visitation.  I have oodles of cookbooks, lots of cookware, kitchen gadgets and a genuine love of food--not just the eating of it, but preparing and reading about it, discussing it with other people and learning more about what makes good food great.

I lunch with a good friend from time to time and he always asks where I'd like to go.  I always tell him that I don't care, the food is not the reason I'm having lunch with him.  The food is the excuse to spend time together.  Now, if I can get my kitchen in running order THEN the getting together would be an excuse for doing food!;)

Monday, May 09, 2011

Good Morning:

I've been riding my bike of late. Not because I want the exercise, but because I keep finding shit wrong with my truck.

So, the other day I pick up my brake drums after having them turned at the parts store (this is fast becoming a lost art,btw) and am on my way to the nearest non-hydration liquids dispensing emporium. I'm going uphill against the wind with 30 pounds of steel in my backpack when a gust of wind pushes me to my left. With all of the weight that was on my back I couldn't stand up fast enough to jerk the front wheel off the pavement and right the bike. I tried going a little left and looping back and a car with three young ladies in it (that was probably going at least ten miles over the posted limit) was suddenly about ten feet off my port bow. She was standing on her brakes and I was going all ahead starboad rudder but it wasn't enough. I ran smackydab into her passenger side just ahead of the passenger door, bounced off, went to the ground and AMAZINGLY stood up, picked up my bike and got out of the road (a four lane state highway at rush hour) without getting run over.

The young lady driving the car was, to put it mildly, freaked right the fuck out. I was a bit abashed, m'self, but, other than a few sore spots and a massive case of "Jeezlouise, you stupid old coot! (sotto voce)" I was okay.  My hip and knee did hurt the next morning, but I'm fine. I had a helmet on which certainly would have made me less uglified if I had whacked my head on the pavement and I was wearing a very slippery nylon windbreaker with a thick sweatshirt under it and dungarees with decent shoes.  The factors of speed, weather, pavement conditions, etc., were not going through my brain in the seconds before impact.  Nor was I "afraid".  Most of my brain's activity was focused on my hands and feet.  What little wasn't being used for motor control was involved in, "WTF!!!ing". 

I don't believe in anything but statistics/statistical anamolies as an explanation for why some stupid things that folks do result in them being able to write about it later and other stupid things, being done, lead to closed casket funerals/Darwin awards.  In the instant case, a statistical anamoly allows me to be able to sit here, typing, instead of being involved in some rather unpleasant alternative scenarios.

I have no words of wisdon on this.  I do have a few suggestions.

Always wear a helmet when on a bike (people or ponypowered). 

Call a friend and have them pick-up the brake drums for you.

AND

Live long enough to develop a sense of humor about making bad decisions.

Monday, April 25, 2011

I had a conversation with a relatively sane republican* the other night.

After listening to him complain about how much teachers get paid and how dictatorial unions** are and how only people like him who worked hard all their life deserve ANYTHING and, oh, yeah, 2 MILLION ABORTIONS A YEAR--you democrats want to kill everybody except the people on welfare (while his wife, who seemed like a very nice lady, looked on with a somewhat pained expression) I was allowed my rebuttal.

I told him that I'm an independent who will NEVER, EVER vote for a reptilican. I also told him that my politics are sorta "pragmatic socialism"***. I agreed that teacher's unions are powerful and that too many cities' and towns' school boards have caved in to them for about a zillion fucking years--because they're spineless milksops who haven't got the balls to say, "No."****

"So,", I said, "We've got, what, about 10-15% of the population (not including the OBVIOUS bad, mostly colored folks, who are in prisons) who don't pull their own weight and just suck on the gummint's teats*****? Let me know when you think we're ready to start euthanizing them.  He laughed, not because he thought I was being ridiculous; it was just that he was surprised that someone who doesn't march to the Bekola Bullshit Ballad actually KNOWS what will solve MurKKKa's problems. 

Since starting this I was "treated" to a viewing of this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=77rtyQf6Hwk&feature=player_embedded#at=38

from a SKKKrotal PatriotiKKK Rally a few days ago.  One of the criticisms I read on the blog ("Dispatches from the culture wars") was that the video was composed of nothing but "soundbites" and had no real "context".  Well, I'll call bullshit on that.  People that think, seriously, that The Donaldfuck would make a good president or good anything--other than the butt of a lot of combover jokes--has established the "context"--the "context" being that they're frightened, confused and angry and willing to accept any sort of "fix" for their problems, real or imagined, that doesn't involve their being inconvenienced.  Either that, OR, they are racist, RWAD******, morons and assholes. 

Some folks have opined that I'm a bit harsh in my assessment of such people.  They are correct, I am harsh; and the Teabaggistas deserve that and worse for what they've been doing.  I'm fed up with the horseshit that these babbling buffoons regurgitate after having it pounded into their otherwise empty cranial cavities by Rushbo and the rest of the talking shitheads on their AM/FM manure spreaders.  I'm not interested in listening to idiots spewing talking points that have have no factual basis for what they assert. 

Many of them are from the "Greatest Generation" and many, far too many, are from my generation, "Baby Boomers".  While they caterwaul about cutting entitlements and social programs to the marrow they are taking billions of bucks for themselves from SS, Medicaid, Medicare and a host of other gummint funded programs.  They all want "states' rights" until such "rights" include popular votes or legislative acts that go against their desires.  They want the gummint outta their lives; until they need help after an "Act of God" picks up their doublewide and tosses it towards Kansas, floods their low lying beachfront condos or affects THEIR health, welfare and property.

They want the gummint outta their lives; except for picking up the trash,. policing the streets, repairing the roads, inspecting the food they eat, confirming that their meds won't, in fact, just kill them and a host of other services that THEY are entitled to.

They want to stop the gummint bailing out failing  businesses and hurting profitable ones with "needless regulation" and gummint red-tape..  Of course, if they had any fucking inkling of what their retirement funds and stock holdings would be worth, without the bailouts and no regulation, they might be singing a different chorus.

They want small gummint, but they want it to be big enough to ensure that they can make other people do what THEY believe is right.  They don't want anybody telling them what they can or cannot do--that's "socialism"; they for shitsure want the gummint to tell them durned fags and sortabrowns and poor people (poor people other than themselves) and non-believers (any sect that is not theirs) what they HAVE to do and what they CAN'T do.

They want to stop the "baby killers" from snuffing "2 million" unborn babeez a year.  As soon as the fetomerKKKins become living, breathing, dependent children, however, they don't want to pay for anything that those children need, 'cuz that'd teach those kids that they can always get a free ride.

They want smaller gummint, just long as it's big enough to keep all of the badperpz in jail--4EVAH!--and just so long as it's big enough to take care of THEIR needs AND keep everybody else under control.

They want their gummint to stop wasting time and money on meaningless hearings and programs, yet they are perfectly happy to have their elected representatives go on endless witch hunts re: MurKKKa's mooslim 5th column or the president's providing proof  that he's a REAL American.

IOW while they're busy protesting the greed, selfishness, stupidity, duplicity and  generally "unchristian" behavior of everyone who is not them, they are at least as greedy, selfish, stupid, duplicitous and unchristian as they accuse those "others" of being.  I'm an atheist, but I know, from having been raised cath-o-lick, that christians and KKKristians alike claim to be followers of JESUS.  If the stories of his time on earth (which, most of them insist, are true) are to be believed, then they are NOT his followers except in the pious, empty-headed sanctimony of parroting his "words".   The hell with them.


* The "relatively sane" standard keeps moving downhill as the "Overton window" moves farther to the right.
** He used to sit on the local schoo board but he quit because he couldn't "Walkerize" the PEU in NY State.
***Basic, affordable preventive health care instead of extrtavagant and useless end-of-life or publicly (not government, but you folks that buy insurance) funded emergency medicine. Other stuff like that.

****Oh, wtf was I thinking! Only "first responder" unions (Hi, Gov. Walker, you cowardly piece of shit!) have pay and benefit packages that are sacrosanct.

*****I'm pretty sure that the latest figures I've seen say 150% of the entire U.S. Budget is being given to the poor, so's they can buy Cadillacs to drive to the liqour store and use their food stamps to purchase Patron, Skye, Johnny Walker Blue, Cuban Monte Cristos and grosses of rubbers which they then punch holes in so's they can make the babeeeeez for welfare and then abort the rest for fun!

******Right Wing Authoritarian Dickheads