Tuesday, August 24, 2010

HoJo's: It's not just for vacations anymore


We may be devo, but at least we're not all the way back to "primitive South American tribe."

Yet.

But when we get there, by God, you'll see it in Florida first. And
WFTV in Orlando will be there to report on it:
Investigators in Seminole County say they've discovered a bizarre problem: adult children are dropping off their elderly parents at hotels and motels, and abandoning them.

"A lot of the local hotels seem to be getting seniors that are just dropped off by their kids," said Officer Zach Hudson of the Lake Mary Police Department.

One man was left at the La Quinta Inn in Lake Mary for several weeks.

"Two different times he fell out of his bed during the midnight shift. We didn't know about it. We had people call up, saying there's a gentleman in this room, he's screaming for help," said Chris Loker of La Quinta Inn.

The problem comes down to money.

"A lot of these nursing homes are too expensive for the kids, much less their elderly parents," Hudson said.

Part of the problem is the hotels and motels are neither trained nor equipped to take on the elderly people, especially since some of the senior citizens have medical issues that require medical treatment.

But, Officer Hudson told WFTV, when parents are left at the hotels to fend for themselves no crime has been committed.
I GUESS dumping Pops at Disney World would be cost prohibitive, huh?

Even the Terroriss Muslins (
copyright pending, Tea Party Patriots) over there in Saudi Arabia have the decency to dump their parents at actual hospitals, according to this 2005 Arab News story:
Some elderly Saudis are being disposed of by their families who dump them off in front of area hospitals and speed away, leaving doctors furious and flabbergasted by this bizarre, cruel behavior.

Recently, three separate families abandoned their parents — and their responsibilities — at King Fahd Hospital.

In an incident at the hospital on Tuesday, a woman in her late 80s who was abandoned by her son there 10 days earlier was reunited with him. During her hospital stay, officials tried several times to get in touch with her family, who denied her existence.

Security guards were able to trace her taxi-driver son who ditched her at the hospital. He was recognized as a regular visitor to the premises, frequently dropping off passengers at the Intensive Care Unit (ICU) entrance.

The man arrived at the hospital accompanied by his young son, and when confronted by hospital officials he denied any relation to the old woman despite her enthusiastic greetings.

“Waleed,” she cried.

“After checking the man’s ID we established that, in fact, it was his name,” said the Dr. Abdul Malik Al-Huti, head of the ICU.

If there was any doubt, the little boy put it to rest.

“When we brought in the young child accompanying his father, he took one look at her and said she was his grandmother.”

After officials had a long, generally unpleasant discussion with “Waleed,” he reclaimed his mom.
A DOCTOR there was nonplussed by the whole thing.

“This phenomenon of abandonment by families of their elders is new in our community,” he said at the time, “and it is unacceptable to the majority of Saudi society.”

But that's just because the Terroriss Muslins (copyright pending, Newt Gingrich) ain't advanced like we are. Then again, I'll bet it won't be long before we concede that the Aché tribe in Paraguay has a point (and not just that at the end of a spear).

"The idea that it’s human nature for parents to make sacrifices for their children and, in turn, for their grown children to sacrifice for their aging parents — turns out to be a 'naïve expectation,'" geography and physiology professor Jared Diamond told
UCLA Today in January.
This assumption, he said, ignores undeniable conflicts of interest between generations.

From a common sense perspective, “Parents and children both want a comfortable life — there are limits to the sacrifices that they’ll make for each other.” And from a scientific perspective — natural selection — Diamond noted, “It may under some circumstances be better for children to abandon or kill their parents and for the parents to abandon or kill their children.”

Those circumstances include life’s often heart-wrenching realities — from the threat of starvation among indigenous tribes to the difficult choices posed by modern societies’ life-prolonging medical care, Diamond said.

Traditional nomadic tribes often end up abandoning their elderly during their unrelenting travels. The choice for the healthy and young is to do this or carry the old and infirm on their backs — along with children, weapons and necessities — through perilous territory. Also prone to sacrificing their elderly are societies that suffer periodic famines. Citing a dramatic example, Diamond said Paraguay’s Aché Indians assign certain young men the task of killing old people with an ax or spear, or burying them alive.

“We react with horror at these stories, but upon reflection, what else could they do?” Diamond asked. “The people in these societies are faced with a cruel choice.”

Those of us in modern cultures face cruel choices of our own, he added. “Many of you have already faced or will face a similar ordeal when you are the relative responsible for the medical care of an old person — the one who has to decide whether to halt further medical intervention or whether to administer painkillers and sedatives that will have the side effect of hastening death.”
YEAH, we all certainly make our choices. And they often are cruel.

Bomb-throwers and pyros for America

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Everybody knows the game our self-proclaimed "patriots" are playing with "Obama's a Muslim" and the self-righteous faux outrage over "the Ground Zero terror mosque."

Everybody except, of course, the willing dupes who comprise the intended target of the GOP brass, Glenn Beck, Fox News, Rush Limbaugh and all those who define themselves through their rage.

It's all about hate; it's all about fear; it's all about paranoia. It also is all about politics and the upcoming midterm elections.

What it's also about is playing with fire. It's about ginning up a mob to demand that the federal government . . . New York city government . . . hell, anybody tear down the whole edifice of our constitutional rule in the name of saving the republic from The Other.

The cynical right wants us all to become a lynch mob to save ourselves from terrorism, which is related -- somehow -- to America's first black, socialist, Nazi Muslim president. Or something like that.

It's not exactly a credit to our cultural and democratic
bona fides that the vast majority of Americans fail to see the deep and toxic irony of this.

INSTEAD, every time I log on to Facebook, I am confronted with the sidebar list of how many family members, friends and old classmates "like" Glenn Beck.

Like Glenn Beck, like his message. Unfortunately, Beck's message is both bats*** crazy and racially incendiary.

As you know, I grew up in the Deep South -- south Louisiana to be exact. I know what that was all about 40 and 50 years ago, and what it is still too much about now.

I can't judge anybody's heart today -- especially folks I haven't seen in years, decades even -- but I know how a lot of them were raised.
I know how I was raised.

I know what was in the cultural air we breathed. How we never gave our assumptions, or those of the society around us, a second thought as we took spiritual Corexit into our hearts and minds. I know that such enculturation can be nearly inexorable, because when you're raised that way from birth, the poison gets into that space between visceral reaction and engagement of the conscience and the mind.

SCRATCH THE SURFACE of my home state, Louisiana, and you'll quickly get to a very bad place. Do the same in any part of America, and you're likely to find varying states of the same collective id.

They say the devil's greatest trick is to convince us he doesn't exist. He just hides in our crooked hearts as our overconfidence congratulates itself on what good, moral, patriotic and God-fearing works of art we have become.

Yet the lynch mob sings "Onward Christian Soldiers" as "the better angels of our nature" twist in the wind, strange fruit of a demagogue's tree.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Missing Johnny


Tonight -- well, I guess last night now -- I was watching the first disc of a two-DVD set, the Best of the Johnny Cash Show.

And I found myself desperately missing Johnny Cash. I found myself desperately missing an age when The Johnny Cash Show was possible on network television -- this, remember, in an age when you only had NBC, CBS and ABC (and, if you were fortunate, NET . . . the forerunner to PBS).


THE JOHNNY CASH SHOW wasn't about country music, though Cash was a country giant . . . and featured plenty of his contemporaries. The real star of the show was music itself -- all kinds of it, categories and neat little formatic boxes be damned.




OK, SEEING Eric Clapton, Carl Perkins and Johnny Cash all on stage at the same time may have made me cry a little.

Bridges. Between past and present. Between whole genres of music. That was the essence of Cash. Here's another bridge . . . a big one, an important one:


MY GOD. Making history . . . by paying tribute to musical history.

Now, let's close it out with this gem. This is the
ABC Television Network, the time is . . . June 7, 1969.



Saturday, August 21, 2010

Everything's better with. . . .




I can't decide which of these Dash Rip Rock moments is more appropriate for those times when I'm confronted by the never-ending calamity that is my birth state (see previous post), so -- what the hell -- just take your pick.

I mean, whatever floats your boat,
cher!

Bekuz stoopidetee haz wurked owt gud sow for


Watched the video about planning for $74 million more in cuts to LSU?

Good. Now see this, which ran in Friday's edition of The Advocate:
Continued state budget cuts to education will soon make Louisiana resemble a Third World country, college leaders said Thursday.

The leaders made the comments at a League of Women Voters of Baton Rouge sponsored event, which focused on the long-term impacts of budget cuts on higher education.

State college officials talked about unity in the face of funding reductions and political interference.

“When times are good, invest in higher education,” LSU Chancellor Michael Martin said. “When times are bad, redouble those efforts.

“We are very much at risk of turning the higher education system in this state into one that serves a Third World country, not a First World,” Martin continued.

Higher education has suffered more than $270 million in budget cuts the past 20 months because of reduced state revenues. The ongoing fear of college officials is the so-called “cliff” year next summer when $290 million in federal stimulus dollars keeping colleges afloat will dry up.

“It won’t be recoverable in any of our lifetimes,” Martin said of the potential impact of the “cliff.”
ONCE AGAIN, we see a bunch of academics peering into the maw of abject hopelessness and still trying to look on the bright side.

No, that's not meant to be snarky. See, they think Louisiana is
going to become Third World. As in "isn't there yet."

Cockeyed optimists, all.

Friday, August 20, 2010

3 Chords & the Truth: All you need . . .


. . . is love.

But there's a catch.

Love is a verb.

Download
3 Chords & the Truth for details . . . and some fine music. That is all.

Oh . . . except for this last thing about the Big Show. . . .

It's
3 Chords & the Truth, y'all.
Be there. Aloha.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

The Plowed Profile comes to corn country


John Barrymore, star of stage, screen and drinking establishments, blew into Omaha in May of 1939 -- still long on talent but, alas, rather short on cash.

"The Great Profile" was bringing his latest stage vehicle,
My Dear Children, to the Tech High auditorium in a triumphal homecoming for one of his co-stars, Dorothy McGuire. Thing is, that homecoming turned out to be more than a little mortifying for the Nebraska ingenue -- being that the great actor turned out to be an even greater drunk, not to mention a supreme offender of polite Omaha society.

And then somebody let him on the radio, an apparently bibulous session with KOIL where he rambled and snorted through listeners' written questions.




UH . . . YEAH. It's pretty evident the poor man was as plowed as the nearby cornfields that first of May. Reportedly, Omahans were offended.

Not half as much as the local theater guild, however. Even
Time magazine took note:
Soon the Barrymores' acting gave strong hints of their home life. With gusto John shouted at Elaine such stage lines as "You damned selfish brat." In the play he spanked her harder, she fanged his wrist more savagely, than was necessary.

Fortnight ago their quarrel burst like a boil: Elaine quit the show in a spuming huff. A few days later, performing before Omaha's highbusted Drama League, John was royally pickled. Up & down traveled his voice, to a bull-like bellow, to a bird-like whisper. Scandalized were Omaha's great ladies when he ad-libbed such lines as "Albert, you look like a pregnant string bean." Afterwards Barrymore's press-agent offered the excuse that he had been "very tired." Concurred the Drama League's lady president: "He must have been very, very, VERY tired."
THE 'ENCHANTING' Dorothy McGuire -- she who had the hot mom -- wouldn't be taking in the spectacle much longer:

"Mr. Barrymore was a great disappointment to Dorothy," reported a November 1941 profile on the young actress in
Life:
She toured with him for eight months, and was particularly embarrassed on the occasion of a one-night stand in Omaha, where his classic vocabulary and uninhibited stage presence made a shocking impression of old family friends of hers in the audience. By the fall of 1939 she found the Great Profile's shenanigans so taxing that she abandoned the troupe in Chicago, thus missing the New York opening. "I'd come blissful and starry-eyed from Our Town into this roughhouse," she said later. "I really and truly was shocked."
IN THE biography John Barrymore, Shakespearean Actor, Michael A. Morrison has this account of the Omaha tour stop:
As the tour progressed through the South and Midwest, however, Barrymore soon came to resent the play and his fourth wife. Again there were much-publicized quarrels with Elaine Barrie; Barrymore showed up in an inebriated state and made unprintable comments at a luncheon in Omaha designed to promote the play. He improvised on the script whenever his memory failed or the impulse arose , and on at least one occasion resorted to four-letter words. After further marital tumult, Elaine Barrie agreed to be replaced and left the tour in St. Louis.
I GUESS you could say a lot of things about my "damned town," Omaha. If you're paying attention, though, you'd know one of them wouldn't be "boring."

And you don't have to be well and properly plowed -- or, for that matter, as high as an elephant's eye -- to know "it's one of the most enchanting places" you've ever been in.

Let's go to the videotape


Welcome to May 22, 1958. WRC television in the nation's capital is having a big soirée, and they've invited President Eisenhower.

All the bigwigs are there, including the Sarnoff dynasty -- father and son -- which wields the controls at the Radio Corporation of America, parent of the National Broadcasting Co., which owns WRC in D.C., which is dedicating its brand-new, ultramodern radio and TV facilities.

It's all about color today, and I'm not talking the integration battles up on Capitol Hill. I'm talking color television. And during this particular shindig, the president will be appearing in living color for the first time from our nation's capital.

And it all will be preserved for posterity on something called "television tape." That is --
How do the kids say? -- cool.

NOW IF WE press this button on the television-tape recorder, we can fast forward . . .

. . . all the way to 2010, 52 years in the future. Robert W. Sarnoff, president of NBC in 1958, is long dead. His father, RCA founder and chief David Sarnoff, is longer dead.

For that matter, RCA is dead, too. It didn't survive the 1980s, at least not as a corporate entity. A foreign company bought the name to put on cheap electronics made in China.

Ike is dead, commentator David Brinkley is dead, analog television is dead, broadcasting is dying . . . and TV engineers had to round up a tandem of antique videotape recorders and new technology in 1988 to preserve this, the oldest surviving color videotape, for you to watch here now.

For you to make it -- this lost world -- live again.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

1973 down, 1968 to go

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It's over. Or is it?

At least when I was a kid, we only had one of these damn things to worry about at a time. As NBC's Richard Engel said about the Iraqis, my celebration also will be restrained.

We now return you to our quagmire in Afghanistan and political strife at home.

Dr. Laura leaves in a snit (yay!)


Dear Dr. Laura,

Shut up. Just shut up.

You rake your callers over the coals for whining and acting like children. Yet when the psychological rubber hits the radio road, your response is to whine about how black folk are being mean to you for gratuitously using the N-word over and over and over again to "make a point" with a caller upset about . . . the N-word.

Listen, peaches. "Jade" was not being "hypersensitive" by chafing at white guests coming into her half-black household and throwing around the N-word like they had a perfect right. Jade was being . . .
normal.

You, on the other hand, by mau-mauing the poor woman with the whole hoary "hypersensitive" meme when it comes to African-Americans being upset by crackers gone wild -- and then using the N-word 11 times in just a few minutes
(you could have made your point with just one utterance . . . or even none) -- became just the sort of bigot Jade was talking about.

AND YOU were doing it
in her house -- on the radio.

So now, after losing your marbles, you're picking up your empty bag and going home . . . the whole
"You can't fire me; I quit" thing?

Bye. Quit your whining, take responsibility for the mess you've made for yourself and grow up.

Now, go. Get out of here.
Buh-bye!



I MEAN, look what this woman has brought us to. Al Sharpton now has become the voice of reason and restraint.

Way to go, Buttercup.

'Patriots' and their sympathy for the devil


Here's all you need to know about America and her "patriots" today, in three simple video clips.

Above, we see that "patriots" today are so offended by Muslims building a mosque blocks from Ground Zero in New York that they're willing to give offense to the most precious principles of American constitutional law, as enshrined in the First Amendment.


AND THEN we see that Republican "patriots" in Congress and elsewhere are so upset about illegal immigration, they are chomping at the bit to undo the 14th Amendment, undoing some foundational principles of their own party in the process and once again leaving the question "Who is an American?" up to the political whims and prejudices of the moment.


LET'S ASK St. Thomas More, as depicted by Paul Scofield in A Man for All Seasons, how that's going to work out for them.

Has anyone considered that it's better to give the devil his due than to give him the whole bloody country, something our American "patriots" seem hell-bent on doing?

Veni, vidi, geeky


Let us travel back to the early 1960s, when your Mighty Favog was but a sprite . . . and Americans still made stuff.

Sigh.

Harry Reasoner's Wild Kingdom


We travel to the undulating landscape of San Francisco, where our intrepid CBS television newsman Harry Reasoner is on the trail of the mysterious hippie.

I'll stay here in the Impala to safeguard our supply of narrow ties and gray woolen suits. Meanwhile, Harry is instructing our Haight-Ashbury guide on our game plan for luring a pack of hippies to our camera position. Let's listen in on what Harry is saying to tracker Warren Wallace:
"Well, it's going to be tricky to snare one, Warren. Usually, they can smell Establishment at a great distance, and they'll run away.

"But I estimate that if we can bait a trap with enough incense and cigarettes . . . oh . . . and munchies -- and if you stand off to the side and start yelling . . . and the exact wording is important, here, Warren . . . if you start yelling, 'Sunflower scored some really good
[BEEEEEEP!], man' . . . I think we can snare one or two."
FAST FORWARDING from 1967 to 2010, we get to pass judgment on the completely unhip and slightly bemused Reasoner's conclusions about his encounter with the wild hippies amid the coastal hill country of the Bay Area.

And you know what? For a clueless, tragically square old fart, it would seem Harry Reasoner had the hippies' number.

Because the Age of Aquarius remains just another pipe dream, and Better Enlightenment Through Chemicals was just another (dis)illusion.

And the hippies? They ended up selling out to The Man, of course.

COULD IT have been any other way? Harry was right . . .
such a waste.

Dissent was in order. New ideas were in order. The Establishment was corrupt. And what was the great rebellion against establishmentarian rot? Tuning in. Turning on. Dropping out.

That worked out so well for us all.

Well, at least the music was groovy. Maaaaaaan.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

If you can't dazzle 'em with cleanup. . . .


Some say the government is in complete disarray when it comes to dealing with the BPocalypse in the Gulf of Mexico.

I disagree.

The accusations of disarray and incompetence only stick if you assume the aim of the federal response is to protect the public and the environment. As this whole corporate catastrophe drags on and on, the less this assumption actually holds water.

From the start, though, BP's game plan has been clear -- cover up anything that will cost the oil giant money. But what one would think is the government's game plan only exists in some old textbook from high-school civics.

Instead, what we have is a federal government totally compromised by Big Oil and the political cash and Washington lobbyists in which it invests, as opposed to . . . safety measures. This means the top federal priority doesn't involve the American public or resources, but instead has everything to do with covering up its own complicity in the catastrophe.

BASICALLY, it's like this: If you can't dazzle 'em with effective regulation and governance, baffle 'em with bullshit.

Thus, the feds' whole
"Oil? What oil?" act as fishermen keep finding gobs of the stuff and researchers begin to laugh at the government's latest "science."

And now, from
The Daily Beast, comes the latest installment in our ongoing series, a little something we call If BP and the Feds Say It, You Know It's Not True:
While officials claim most of the oil from America's worst-ever spill has disappeared, fishermen hired by BP are still finding tar balls—and being instructed to hide their discoveries.

Two weeks ago, as federal officials prepared to declare that some three-quarters of the estimated 5 million barrels of oil released into the Gulf over three months had disappeared, Mark Williams, a fishing boat captain hired by BP to help with the spill cleanup, encountered tar balls as large as three inches wide floating off the Florida coast.

Reporting his findings to his supervisor, a private consulting company hired by BP, the reply, according to his logbook came back: "Told—no reporting of oil or tar balls anymore. Don't put on report. We're here for boom removal only," referring to the miles of yellow and orange containment barriers placed throughout the Gulf.

Williams' logbook account, which I inspected, and a similar account told to me by a boat captain in Mississippi, raises serious concerns about whether the toll from the spill is being accurately measured. Many institutions have an interest in minimizing accounts of the damage inflicted. The federal and local governments, under withering criticism all summer, certainly want to move on to other subjects. BP, of course, has a financial incentive.

The miraculous disappearance of the oil and the pending transfer of $20 billion to Ken Feinberg, who is independently overseeing the claims fund, have resulted in the oil giant cutting back its response operations. With a recent halving of the Vessels of Opportunity program, which hired fallow charter and commercial fishing boats, captains and deckhands are now less reticent to describe their experiences.

This includes Mark Williams, who worked in the program until he was deactivated last week. Williams' saga is typical. In May, he arrived in Alabama from Atlantic Beach, Florida, to captain a charter boat. He got one day of red snapper season before Roy Crabtree, NOAA Fisheries Southeast regional administrator, shut down the Alabama waters for fishing.

"That morning [June 1], we took a charter out to the 'Nipple' and saw what looked like a lot of grass," said Williams, referring to the part of the Gulf where the continental shelf gets very deep, a favored habitat for large fish. "When we got closer, we saw it was mattes of oil in solid slicks. By that afternoon, oil was getting in our reels. Crabtree shut down fishing the next day."

For the rest of June and much of July, Williams worked off and on as a deckhand on boats enlisted in the Vessels of Opportunity program, including a boat called Downtime that in early June first sighted tar balls and oil sheen in the Pensacola Pass.

Williams was also part of the skimming operations at Orange Beach when miles-long mattes of oil washed on to its shores the following weekend. Untrained, Williams remembers putting more than 100 pounds of oil-soaked absorbent boom in debris disposal bags that he was later told should have held no more than 20.

Subsequently, Williams saw seven large shrimp boats, with two Coast Guard vessels accompanying them, five miles off shore. "Plumes were everywhere," says Williams, referring to thin layers of crude oil floating on the water's surface. "Every time another boat would approach the shrimp boats, the Coast Guard would get on the radio and tell the boat to veer back to shore." Williams says he believes the boats were putting dispersant on the oil, even though the Coast Guard has denied using dispersant off the Florida and Alabama shores. "The plumes were gone the next day," Williams says.

Back in Florida on July 27, his boat, Mudbug, was activated into Vessels of Opportunity. While the media, BP, and the Coast Guard were reporting no more oil, Williams and other boat captains were assigned to find it.

Three days later, Williams found remnants of dispersant in a canal in Santa Rosa Sound north of Pensacola Beach. He reported it to his supervisor, who worked for a company that BP hired to help with cleanup, O'Brien's Response Management.

Williams wrote in his logbook, "Returned p.m. for check-out. [Supervisor] said, 'Oh, they sent someone out there and it was algae'—No fucking way—Idiots."

O'Brien's was founded in 1982 by Jim O'Brien, a retired Coast Guard officer, who originally called his firm O'Brien Oil Pollution Service, ironically known in the industry as "OOPS." Over the years the company has been acquired and merged with other response companies; it was hired by BP and Transocean prior to the April 20 explosion of the Deepwater Horizon rig as an emergency-response consultant.

On Saturday, July 31, Williams found a "tea-type" stain on the water and followed it toward Fort Pickens, which is the western tip of Pensacola Beach. He wrote in his logbook, "We found massive tar balls—both in quantity and size, in small gulley. They ranged from ping-pong ball to coconut in size not 3' from beach line."

After that, Williams was taken off spill and tar ball watch and put on boom removal. In an inlet north of Pensacola Beach, his crew sighted more tar balls. He wrote in his logbook: "Middle of Sound to off-load boom. 1" to 3" tar balls—floating—must be old—told [supervisor] at end of the day." That's when he was told not to make the report, but rather to simply gather up the boom.

“We found massive tar balls–both in quantity and size, in small gulley.”
Williams was deactivated from Vessels of Opportunity last week. Last Tuesday, the day before he was dropped, the boat captain wrote, "Coming back p.m. from Ono Island. Counted 12 oil plumes small in comparison to offshore between range marker and decon barge." This was a week after Carol Browner, a top energy adviser to President Barack Obama, announced 75 percent of the oil had been contained, evaporated, or dispersed.
I HAVE long said the last casualty of the BPocalypse will be whatever legitimacy the U.S. government has. That day draws nearer with every official lie -- with every public-relations obfuscation aimed at a public Washington desperately hopes is otherwise occupied with the misadventures of Snooki. Or cable-TV cage matches. Whatever.

In 1858, Abraham Lincoln, during his unsuccessful Senate campaign against Stephen A. Douglas, famously quoted the book of Matthew when he prophesied that "A house divided against itself cannot stand." Today, I'd like to think he would say the same about a nation buried in bullshit, because it's true.

You know the saying "You are what you eat"? Well, while we might well avoid consuming BP's finest Corexit-petroleum soup du jour, it's not so easy abstaining from the fragrant entrée every segment of our society -- most notably our leaders -- put before us daily.

And that's as deadly as anything BP can spew into the Gulf of Mexico.

Energy by Dave


Oooh ooh, what a little moonlighting can do for Gov. Dave Heineman and, supposedly, the Nebraska economy.

All while weaning America off of evil petroleum. That's the deal reported in the
Omaha World-Herald as Gov. Dave gets out there to "shill, baby, shill":
Heineman said that passage of a law last spring has removed many of the obstacles for privately owned wind farms, but he asked about 45 officials at the Nebraska Wind Forum what else the state needs to do.

"How do we take another quantum leap forward?" the governor asked. "That's where we need your input and advice."

The forum was organized to inform private developers of the changes in state law, and make a pitch to develop new wind farms and wind-energy related manufacturing plants.

Nebraska has some of the best wind resources in the nation, but has lagged behind its neighbors because of obstacles of allowing private electric generation in a state that only allows publicly owned utilities.

Heineman added that the U.S. needs to get serious about reducing its reliance on foreign oil "so our sons and daughters aren't fighting in the Middle East" to preserve the flow of oil.
WORD IS Gov. Dave will be making out even better than the state as a whole from the development of wind energy -- meteorological surveys have identified the best "wind field" in the state as being right outside the governor's office in Lincoln.

The predominance of hot air in the gubernatorial air mass suggests geothermal-energy possibilities as well, experts say.

Alms for the Puritans


Amid all the unseemly spectacles we're likely to encounter in these fractured, formerly-United States, the sorriest sight of all is the unfettered self-righteousness of the deeply, deeply stupid.

Here's the latest brain-eating bacteria sweeping across that Petri dish of the Internets, Facebook. A screenshot of what you find when you click on the link somewhere in a pool of some Facebook friend's cybervomit adorns the top of this post.

And it is priceless indeed -- "If you can afford alcohol and cigerattes then you don't need Foodstamps."

If this were a horse race and you put down $20 and picked Misanthrope, Misspelled and Mispunctuated in the trifecta, you'd have enough money to buy all the "cigerattes" and alcohol you could ingest on your way to an early demise. You'd never need to rely on a single "Foodstamp."


FRANKLY, if I knew I were the object of derision for someone so gobsnockeringly moronic that this, in all likelihood, will be his (or her) most enduring contribution to Western civilization -- hell, I'd be smoking like a chimney and drinking like a fish. A man can only take so much, and that would be as good a way as any to end it all.

No, really. Think about it.

A person so stupid and ill-educated that they think it's "cigerattes" and not cigarettes, and not food stamps but Foodstamps (I dunno, maybe this person is a German jackass) writes such a thing because, presumably, he has a job and begrudges others government assistance because they are -- again, presumably -- even more worthless than an illiterate bile-spewer. And because they might have a nicotine habit and take an occasional drink.

That, my friends, is true injustice.

Here we have a mean-spirited, skinflint knuckle-dragger with a job . . . and a lot of damned nerve. Then we have some poor unemployed schmuck on food stamps who, on the other hand, probably worked his ass off for years before getting the old heave-ho amid the worst economy in 70 years. And he probably can spell both "cigarettes" and "food stamps" correctly -- and, for good measure, knows where to place the comma in a complex sentence.

As I said, it's enough to drive one to both "cigerattes" and alcohol.

NEVERTHELESS, the Facebook Puritan posse "likes" such simple-minded self-righteousness. It's always the other guy who's good for nothing, don't you know?

And never the "real American," who is the backbone of the nation.

Which would explain that wicked case of scoliosis.

Monday, August 16, 2010

You have to break a few eggs. . . .


Call this post You Have to Break a Few Eggs to Make an Omelet, or . . . the history of my old school, Baton Rouge High, as seen through "the phone egg."

Above, we have the phone egg, and classmate Hardy Justice, as seen in the pages of the 1979 Fricassee.



THEN, the phone egg -- minus the pay phone -- as seen in the fall of 2007, when the school long had slipped into disrepair and dilapidation.


AND LAST WEEK . . . destroying the campus -- well, much of it, anyway -- in order to save it.

One thing they ought to save, at least, is the phone egg. And when the new gymnasium rises from the rubble of the past, they ought to refurbish the "egg," put a '70s vintage pay phone in it (complete with nickel phone calls) and place it next to an entrance.


Because the past is part of all our futures.

Walk, don't fly


TRAVEL ADVISORY: After the unfortunate Icarus incident, travelers who plan to venture close to the sun are strongly urged to take the pedestrian bridge. Flying close to the sun is undertaken at your own risk.

Iowa and Nebraska authorities -- due to the continued high water and strong currents on the Missouri River -- will not be plucking your sorry ass out of the drink if you choose to fly and your damned wings melt.

This travel advisory is in effect until further notice. Thank you.

Don't try this at home



Boy, do I remember Great Shakes.

When I was a kid, I
loved Great Shakes. I loved to make Great Shakes.

Except this one time when I didn't put the lid on tight enough. You remember that creepy Tay Zonday viral video on YouTube a few years back?

That wasn't the original "Chocolate Rain."