Don’t Know Much About History. . .

Tags

Essays, Humor, Literature, short stories

I took this photo of my planet just Sunday. My planet is called Morgandilla (More gan D ya) and I am the supreme ruler and Queen. They call me Our Majestic Wise One.

Now, you may not believe me for a minute, but the genius of the Internet, is that I know that I can surely find one hundred human beings among the nearly seven billion who would agree with me. I know this. I don’t have to convince them, and moreover, no amount of scientific/logic/common sense will persuade them that they are wrong in believing me.

This rule of the Internet was learned by a Republican operative many moons ago (and Morgandilla has seven of them should be care to know). They, of course, need to target a much larger group than my one hundred of course to be successful in gaining and retaining power, but the same principle applies. Except they do it backwards.

The GOP figures out who its target audience is, say. . .just for instance,. . .the religious fundamentalist. They discover what it is these people believe. And then the high muckety-mucks of the GOP sat down and had a conversation a bit like this:

GOPer Operative: “I have discovered the beliefs of the fundies grand viziers of the GOP.”

Super Grand Pupon Vizier: “Do tell, minion.”

GOPer Operative: “They believe in the bible as literal truth, as written. They don’t believe in evolution, climate change, or any scientific principle if it conflicts with their interpretation of the Holy Book. They do not believe government programs for the poor. The think the Constitution was written by Christians for Christians, and the bible should govern all government decisions.

 They don’t believe in abortion. They believe that African-Americans (and they don’t like that term–it’s un-American and denotes a black person who is playing the race card) are free enough. They believe that all Muslims are dangerous and are too free in this country. They believe that America is the natural god-given leader of the world, and wars are necessary to preserve that notion.”

Super Grand Pupon Vizier: “But minion, I am a Christian. I haven’t found any basis for most of those beliefs in the bible, and some of them are directly against what I  read in scripture.”

GOPer Operative: “I know sir, but that is what they believe.”

Second to the Grand of Grands: “If we wish to court and win these crazy people, we shall have to tell them that we believe in what they believe don’t you think?”

Super Grand Pupon Vizier: “But it’s blatantly not true, and moreover, rational minds can pretty clearly prove it’s not true. The worst thing a politician can do is get caught telling a lie!”

Third in Line to be a Somebody: “But Grand Pupon, that’s the beauty of this. To them, no amount of facts will ever change their mind. If we agree with their lies, they will love us, and hug us and most important: VOTE for us.”

Ass-Kisser of the 4th Magnitude: “And, and AND, once we convince them that we believe their lies, they will believe anything else we tell them, even though logically it makes them our permanent slaves! They are so used to believing what is not logical, that they will literally give us all their money and future, just because they are so happy to find people who agree with them on these crazy things! We can’t lose!”

Super Grand Pupon Vizier: “Thy will be done, high muckety-mucks! Thy will be done!”

And thus ladies and gents, was born the ability to lie bold-faced, with nary a blinking eye, the most outrageous mush-mouthed clap-trap that ever passed as human discourse.

That is why the history of the US of America now contains these claims made by politicians:

1. John Quincey Adams was a Founding Father, and worked tirelessly during the revolution as a child to end slavery. ~Michele Backmann
2. Paul Revere warned the British they weren’t going to be takin’ away our arms, and he was riding his horse and ringing those bells, and firing his gun. ~ Sarah Palin
3. Because the bad folks don’t want to follow the Constitution, let me tell you about that little part in it that refers to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. ~Herman Cain
4. American doughboys fought WWII so they could make their own decisions about health care. ~Rick Santorum
5. The Constitution was written for only one express purpose: to limit the Federal Government. ~Ron Paul
6. President Roosevelt went on TV in 1929 to explain the greed of Wall Street and the Crash. ~ Joe Biden
7. The nation that invented the automobile cannot walk away from it. ~Barack Obama
8. It was here in New Hampshire that the short that was heard around the world was sounded, here in Lexington and Concord, New Hampshire. ~Michele Bachmann
9. Obama is engaged in a spectacular spending binge, during any peacetime in American history ~Mitt Romney

Oh ain’t it grand, just makin’ it up as ya go along? To suit your own agenda and purpose?

Now we on Morgandilla don’t allow revisionist history. We find it distasteful and unhelpful in staying on the same page. I dictate the true history of our planet while reclining on my Queen couch on my weekly trips there and back.

You may wonder why I bother coming here, since, as you can imagine, everything is pretty darn perfect on Morgandilla. Well, I  enjoy the sport of keeping my writing talents finely honed which only correcting the record on this confused planet, allows me to do.

You may petition for a visit to Morgandilla for the small fee, of $4,322 American dollars, food and all amenities included,  window seat extra.

Until I have more pearls of wisdom to offer. . . .signing o u t.

I’ll See Your Flop and Raise You a Petaflop

Tags

Iowa, Literature, Wandering around in my head

As best I understand, a petaflop is 1,000 trillion connections per second. The human brain can do 20,000 of them, so it’s the high mark for computer operations.

I understand we are at the 2.5 petaflop level now, but expect to transcend human capacity pretty darn soon.

I wonder when we wake up to that if we will feel any differently? I want to feel different or differently as the case may be.

I understand that Newt’s top staff all quit over something or other. That knocked Anthony’s nether regions off the top spot. I imagine he woke up feeling differently, if not different.

Meanwhile folks will soon be starting to paw through all of Sarah’s e-mails during her brief and situationally boring (according to her) time as governor of Alaska. No doubt she will be feeling differently about some of the things she said then as to what she wished she’d said. Although in truth, I suspect she feels no different at all.

Meanwhile, Ricky Santorum will say more stupid shit, and Mitt will continue to look so out of his element trying to rub elbows with the average joe, all the while turning his positions about anything and everything inside out and round about, hoping to grab the current wave of public opinion about pork bellies and the relative merits of white as opposed to black truffles.

“Paw”-lenty will continue to be so boring that it can be described as Truman Capote once did James Baldwin’s writing:”balls-achingly boring. Not having a pair, I don’t know where to look for a similar anatomical analogy.

Trumpet will continue to try to be kingmaker by threatening to come back in if the “wrong” choice is made, and Sarah bleats a similar refrain. Does anybody care?

In all, I can “learn” all this and expend no more than 1/millionth of my petaflop of existing mental ability. And boy, that seems rude indeed to my brain, which waits no doubt, in sheer anticipation of being used for greater things. No doubt. Or maybe some doubt, since I just learned of this petafloppery thing and hell, I may have gotten most of it wrong for all I know.

Infidel753 has one of those quotes today that sounds all noble and stuff. It has the atheistic ring to it–you know what I mean–I don’t lean on fairies to soothe my existential ennui. I’m brave enough to face the truth. Live now! I liked it in a strange sort of way, even though I don’t believe it, and would argue that the author has a thoroughly incorrect assumption about what faith is really all about. Go read it. See what you think. Does it make you feel different or differently?

♦

Oh does anybody remember amid the chaos of all these so exceptional candidates and all the never-to-be-missed announcements that fall delicately from their fangs, that we have a debt ceiling crisis, a housing crisis, an energy crisis, a jobs crisis, a war crisis, and no doubt a crisis of faith, rationality, and plain old guts? Does anybody care that the environment may already be so screwed up by the man-made (yes women too) tinkering and pooping in our own nest, that it may never recover? At least not in a manner fit for this species? No I thought not. It’s more fun to raise a “this Bud’s for You!” and drown our over-par score from this morning.

Does it make you feel different? How about differently? Too much to ask?

♦

Meanwhile (I do like that word), in Alabama it is now against the law to knowingly give a ride to an undocumented immigrant.  Well, let me tell ya somethin’ there ALA BAM a, it has always been a social crime, and moreover an intellectual crime to knowingly give a native Alabamian a ride across the state lines. It is a prison, after all, and the inmates must be kept INSIDE.

When Governor Bentley attends various governors meetings, he’s required to wear a HAZMAT suit. He is, I swear! Nobody wants that contamination entering their state.

♦

Which leads me to conclude that there must be places around the globe that are infinitely better places to live than the US now. Better in every respect. So why aren’t we sneaking across some damn borders ourselves? No Canada, not you, just too damn cold–which is why you aren’t stuffed to the gills with illegals from around the world. Just a short trip across the top-o-the-world, and you are THERE. Still, suspiciously, I do hear the trace of a Russian accent on occasion when listening to Hockey Night in Canada.

Which begs the question of whether if you stand upon your igloo in the Yukon Territory, you can see Russia? Or only Sarah’s back porch? Does she keep the blinds open? Does Todd wear boxers or briefs?

And does THAT finally make you feel differently or just only vaguely uncomfortable?

♦

Inspissated: a word used by pissants to show off. Not really. Go look it up. If you dare to learn something today! Do you? A man by the name of Stanley Fish (hateful parents had he: Stanley?) wrote a book entitledHow to Write a Sentence and How to Read One. The last part is both arrogant and cheeky don’t you think?

On pains of being called really priggish ( a delightfully under-used word wouldn’t you say), I won’t suggest that reading my blog would save you the price of the book. HA. Okay.

One “style” author suggests the word “indeed” shouldn’t be used. Indeed!

He says, Writing cannot be taught, but it can be learned. Yes, I can see THAT. And don’t ever end a sentence with THAT. Not THAT but that. but then, I just did that again! Ha, ended in again that time. Time. Oh shut-up!

♦

If you think this post has all been a monumental waste of your time, well think of poor me. I had to write it. And besides, blame OKJimm. I’m blaming him for everything that goes wrong for the next week. Sign up to be the next scapegoat!

Damn I sure miss Truman Capote.

Now that I think about it.

No indifference here.

 

 

They Are Out to Get Me, They Really Are!

Tags

government bureaucracy, Humor, life in the meadow, Literature

Mark my words. Sooner or later you too will be forced to deal with bureaucracy. It can be local, state or federal, but you will find yourself dancing with the great wall of ineptitude and boredom. And you will never be the same.

Never will you take any joy lightly again. Never will you be tempted to grouse at the minor IQ challenges you face at banks, super markets, and the gas station. No, you my friend have met the enemy, the great behemoth of all insanity–the bureaucrat.

A few brave this affront to humanity and they survive, nay, they conquer the beast, and they retrieve that which they sought. And what is that? It is what they were ever entitled to in the first place. Information that belonged to them and has been cruelly twisted so as to effect great harm on the innocent,that is, the owner.

It starts out like this:

You want to something. It is something legal, and something you take for granted as your right to do.

You begin said process of doing your God-given, constitutionally allowed thing.

A government, of which you have sworn allegiance and paid taxes to, says “whoa there hot shot, not so fast.”

For the common good, for health, for safety, and to make the columns add up right, but mostly for our devilish delight and because after all, it’s Tuesday, the day we love to f**k over the public at large, YOU cannot proceed until you do this!

You reel back in shock, dumbfoundedness, and all-around confusion. Suddenly, a spectre of your long departed past arises with dripping fangs and lunges!

“What has X got to do with Y?” you exclaim.

“Everything and nothing,” is the response.

“Mostly nothing, but hey, we like our paperwork neat and tidy, and this has been in our done but not done file for thirteen bazillion years. Now we demand you dot the final “i”.

Knowing that you have lost before you start, you capitulate immediately. “Just where do I go?” you whimper?

“Call the bureaucracy of doom.”

You shrink in terror. You moan. You have a conniption fit. You literally lay on the floor, kicking and screaming. “There must be another way,” you wail.

The powers grin, with sick delight. “No, no other way. Do it, or be forever barred from doing It.”

So you pray, you meditate, you collect stuff with numbers and letters and dates, and your pen and pencil and adding machine, and paper and coffee strong, and napkins and kleenex. You wipe your perspiring brow. You beat your chest, and “man up,” or “woman up” as the case may be. You steel yourself, take a deep breath and pick up that phone.

One ringy dingy, two ringy dingy. Click. The melodious tones of automation strike your ear. You pen is gripped firmly.

It starts. “If you would like the menu in English, press one.”

You breathe, so far so good. Pressing the one.

“If you know the party or extension you wish, press two.”

You don’t so, proceed.

“If you want. . . ”

As the menu continues, your guts tremble and tighten.

“NONE OF THESE FIT MY PROBLEM!” your mind screams.

Blessedly, at the very end, you hear:

“If you wish to speak to a customer representative, please press O.”

A sigh of relief. Yes, you can speak to a human being (of sorts). You reach for a sip of coffee release your claw-like grip of the pen, and breathe out.

Pressing O.

“Customer service is no longer available. Press one to hear the menu again.”

Tears well in your eyes, and your hemorrhoids begin a steady beating and burning.

Oh please, this cannot be.

Now, nearing defeat, you return to the menu, you finish copying down the website that was read too fast to get completely the first time. You hang up and move confidently to your friendly PC. Now here we are in our element.

You type carefully, deliberately, because you cannot now afford another arrow piercing your heart.

You hit enter. You wait.

“There is no such address. Are you trying to find Homeland Security?” it asks.

You screech!!!! The coffee cup is overturned, and you grab papers. Why is this happening to me!!!!!

Seven hours and 40 cups of coffee later, you reach a human voice.

You relate your story. You offer numbers off papers and identification requirements.

“Are you the person who is the subject of this inquiry?” minor bureaucratic minion asks.

“No, I’m his wife, but I have all the information.” I offer cheerily.

“Unless he has signed a power of disclosure to you, which you would have to present to our office, I can only speak to him,” idiot, and not even savant answers.

“Well he’s here, you can talk to him.”

“Perfect,” IQ wannabe says.

The Contrarian proceeds to give the to-bit excuse for a sentient life form, all the information I have written down.

She of course “intuitively psychically knows” that now she is talking to the subject of inquiry as opposed to the paper boy whom I’ve collared and hauled in to pretend to me my husband.

Said information she explains is in a place called “history” and such information is only extracted via the computer late at night after everyone has departed, lest a human discover the deep secrets contained in the extraction process.

We can call back tomorrow, or more particularly the Contrarian can, when she will tell him the information, and send along a copy for our records. Of course, the envelope will be marked: To Be Opened Only by the Subject of Inquiry.”

I am not claiming either victory or defeat here. Only that I have met the enemy, and I still got all my appendages. I guess that’s something.

I think a Constitutional Convention is in order. I’m not sure I want to continue this governmenty thingie any longer.

Checking My Watch Every Two Minutes

Tags

fiction, Harold Camping, Humor, Johnny Depp, Literature, rapture, short stories

I don’t know about you, but here in the Peyton household, we could barely sleep last night. I mean, we are soooo excited.

First thing we did was take a shower–in the morning no less.

It was hard to decide what to wear. We couldn’t figure out if we should wear our “Sunday best” or just regular clothes. Heck we don’t know if our clothes will be coming with us.

We settled on dressing neatly and cleanly, but without too much fuss. I have been told that glorified bodies are not fat or thin so, heck my clothes might fall off. I clipped in a few safety pins just in case.

We bathed the dogs yesterday. Boy did they NOT like that. And Brandy is none too happy about the collar either, but we figured they should be leashed. I mean it’s likely to be pretty crowded at first, and we don’t want to be separated. The cats  have already been put in carriers. You know how they can tend to “disappear” at the last minute, and we don’t want to lose track of them either.

Pastor Harold Camping was none to informative frankly about the “little things”. I mean, I have no idea what the weather will be like. I assume there will be seasons, but I don’t know for sure. It seems God would not be unkind to all those snowboarders and NEVER let them have snow again. I’m taking a sweater, and hope that will be enough.

I can’t decide whether we should take a bible or not, and really don’t know which translation! I am torn between the New Revised Standard Version or The New Jerusalem. But the Contrarian (I guess I probably won’t be calling him THAT much longer) thinks we should take the good old KJV.

The whole idea of books is quite a problem. I just hate leaving mine behind. I suppose God has quite the library though, and so maybe it won’t be so bad. But I am fussy, and well, I can only borrow.

Which brings up the whole NFL thing. I mean the Contrarian is adamant that we request a mansion with NFL cable, so he can watch the Packer’s games. I keep reminding him of course that there won’t be anymore football to watch on TV. For heaven sakes, it stands to reason that MOST of the NFL players won’t be qualifyin’ and coming up with us. And I figure trying to play football in white robes is gonna be messy. Imagine all those grass stains?

Then of course, he reminded me that the same could be said of most of my favorite actors and such. No more Desperate Housewives! And of course, given what we read in the tabloids, most of them will be “left behind” as they say. (I been praying all day that God spares Johnny Depp for me!)

As I said, we didn’t sleep much last night. Had to umm, errr, well, there isn’t gonna be any more of THAT in heaven, or so I’ve been led to believe. That is a bit of a bummer. But the alternative as they also say, is, well, let’s not go there.

So far, we haven’t heard any news of earthquakes. They are supposed to start worldwide at 6 p.m. I thought that was local time, so I figured by now there would be reports of them from the east and of course seeing people flying up into the clouds. Maybe the unfortunates are too sad to relate that they’ve been left, or too busy dodging brimstone. No doubt we’ll find out everything as soon as we land.

I assume we’ll be loaded on busses and transported to our apartments. Truthfully, I’d rather have a yard. People who bring pets might get yards. That would be nice. Do animals poop in heaven? Now that’s a question isn’t it? I don’t rightly know. Do you?

I just want to make sure I get a really nice kitchen. I so love to cook, and can’t wait to make a nice paella. I sure hope we don’t have to eat a lot of ambrosia. I mean some is okay, but frankly I prefer chocolate chip cookies.

I’m also wondering when we meet all the “loved” ones who have passed ahead of us. I guess maybe our new “mansions” will have phone books and we can just look them up. Of course, it’s gonna be a bit messy, blending these two families. I wonder how the Contrarian’s dad will like mine? And His mom? How do they do that two husbandy thing I wonder? I plan on making a big old bowl of my prize-winning (well if I ever entered it, it would have won) potato salad. I wonder if they have charcoal? Maybe everyone uses gas grills?

Oh, whew, just about forgot to get my very favorite earrings! I This is so stressful! I mean, should we take a carry-on? Or would that now be a carry-up?

I really don’t know what kind of work we will be expected to do there. I mean I guess we’ll all just automatically “know” the bible, so I can hardly do my studies any more. Nurses and doctors and folks like that are no longer needed. What will they do? I guess I could work part-time at Burger King. I prefer Burger King to McDonald’s, in case someone is keeping track.

Do we get wings? Will we have replicators? I mean on the Enterprise, they really couldn’t do without them. I don’t think we should have to either.

Well, it’s getting on to the afternoon. We are watching some movies, just in case we can’t get our favorites at the heavenly Blockbuster.

Hey, after you get settled, (assuming you are saved of course), look us up. That’s Peyton with an E. And if we don’t hear from ya, well, ya know, we will feel bad. Ya probably won’t feel a thing, at first at least. There is that eternity thing unfortunately. Trust that we will feel bad for ya on the anniversary date March 21, 2011!

Take that Mayan wannabes!

Related articles

• I didn’t make the cut 😦 (prphtprstkng.wordpress.com)
• Before there was Harold Camping, there were the Millerites…. (shortformblog.tumblr.com)
• Harold Camping: Third time’s the charm (lunkiandsika.wordpress.com)
• Harold Camping Round-up (scotteriology.wordpress.com)
• Harold has provided himself with an out – an extended Rapture (iflizwerequeen.com)
• The End Of the World (tirelessthoughts.wordpress.com)

Truth or Consequences?

Tags

fiction, James Frey, Literature, Non-fiction

Okay, so yesterday’s post was a bit of fluffery. I admit that. But I do have an excuse.

You see, our television, only two years old, blew up. Suddenly, no picture and a thick white puff of smoke floated toward the ceiling. That can really put you off your feed.

Well, yesterday we went a television hunting, and this time for a shiny new flat screen. In anticipation of our move to New Mexico, we knew we weren’t gonna lug those old-fashioned behemoths around any more.

And we got more than we bargained for. Prices have come down considerably, and we have a nice 32″ beauty that had us oohing and ahhing last night. (We shall forget the cussing and gnashing of teeth as the Contrarian went through his usual, “I can do this without any stinkin’ directions” episode, before grabbing the manual and reading what plug goes where.

Anyway, I ran yesterday’s blog up quickly before we left. Truthfully, we do watch Survivor sometimes. We have skipped seasons entirely, and we have quit mid-season a few times, bored with the field of contestants or for some other reason. But truthfully (this becomes important in a minute) Rob Mariano is a favorite of mine and we enjoyed how he manipulated the newbies. A truer Svengali was never met, nor one with a cuter smile.

Anywho, I was back on the computer, doing e-mail stuff. The television in the office was on, as it always is, and Oprah was on, as alas she usually is, given that there is freakin’ nothing else on at that time of the afternoon. Phew. I catch a bit here and there, and mostly don’t watch.

Anywho, again, she had on this dude called James Frey, whose pic is above. He had written a book called “A Million Little Pieces” of which I had never heard. He was back on Oprah after a big kerfuffle about the book. Seems it was written as a memoir and was more fiction than true story. It seems that Ms. Winfrey had named it to her “Book Club” as a selection, the book sales had gone through the roof, when all this untruthiness had come about.

It is not clear who is mostly to blame for all this. Surely Mr. Frey was aware that he was portraying his bout with drugs, alcohol and crime by stretching some facts and making up some more. Were the publishers derelict in “investigating” the truth of his story? Was Ms. Winfrey’s staff similarly derelict in their checking out the book?

Whatever, Oprah had the man back on in part it seems to make some amends for what I am told was a thoroughly excoriating interview she had with Frey after the “hoax” was uncovered.

Part Two is on today, and I suspect I’ll pay a bit more attention, since there is much to contemplate here.

Frey read some folks like Faulkner, and decided that he wanted to write, to move people as he had been moved. With apparently not much of a background to draw from, he spent some years in pretty dire circumstances, while trying to learn to write.

I’m not defending him, nor condemning anyone either. He wrote a book, and a publisher wanted to publish it as a memoir.(Given that I know a few bloggers  who write beautifully but can’t get published, while a complete cypher of a human being named Snooki who is probably not as smart as a rock, can get published, I can understand the allure to Mr. Frey)  It sold lots of copies, and tens of thousands more after Oprah pushed it. She was moved by it and claimed everyone at Harpo was as well. Hundreds of testimonials were written. Addicts galore claimed that the book had been of great help to them.

After it was determined that Frey had inflated or simply made up some of the “facts” all hell broke loose. Oprah, as we have said, publicly whipped him. People sued, claiming “emotional pain and distress”.

It all comes down to this: Is there something intrinsically different in a memoir versus a work of fiction? I mean, is there something so wildly in opposite between an experience of the body and that of the mind? Is one less “real”? Is one less valid?

Frey was all he claimed, a drug addict and an alcoholic and a criminal, albeit a very petty one. Do those who were “helped” suddenly become less “helped” by the revelation that words and scenes were not necessarily actual?  I truly don’t know.

New writers are often advised to “write about what you know.” Certainly, if I am reading about the history of my country’s foundation, I want to know of the writer’s background. A degree in religious education, for instance, is a whole lot less persuasive than a doctorate in American history from Yale might be, especially if you the author are trying to convince me of a wildly new theory of how our country formed.

But, seriously in fiction, writers write about things they don’t know all the time. Colleen McCullough writes about ancient Rome, after writing about the hierarchy of the Roman Catholic Church for instance. So we know that good research can make up for a lot of lack of personal experience.

And no one claims Frey didn’t experience being all the things he wrote about. He embellished them, to be sure, but does that make his conclusions less valid?

Is there a firm line between memoir and fiction? Aren’t we always interpreting actual events through our own lenses? Aren’t we putting them together in our minds with other, recognized and not, “events”. Aren’t our visceral gut feelings responses to conscious and unconscious thoughts and remembrances?

Were those helped less helped? I suspect not.

What are your thoughts? How would you feel if what had been useful to you turned out in the end to be a hoax of sorts? Have you experienced something akin to this?

I confess to being perplexed on this one.

Related articles

• James Frey Back on ‘Oprah,’ Says He Doesn’t Respect Memoir Genre (VIDEO) (tvsquad.com)
• James Frey Describes 2006 Interview with Oprah as ‘Personal Car Crash’ (genzpad.com)
• The Man Who Knew Nothing About Memoir (brevity.wordpress.com)
• James Frey’s Rematch on The Oprah Winfrey Show (thedailybeast.com)

One Witticism Goes a Long Way

Tags

Barack Obama, Calvin and Hobbes, Christopher Hitchens, Donald Trump, Entertainment, Extreme right-wing, GOP, Halley Barbour, Literature, racism, teabaggers, wacko right-wing media

“It’s hard to be religious when certain people are never incinerated by bolts of lightning.” [Calvin & Hobbes]

Believe me, there are days I think like that.

Most of the time, I’m a mild-mannered pleasant enough woman, the one you meet here everyday. But some people and some things get my dander up, and I seriously wonder if the planet would not be a better place should they depart it. It’s then that I secretly almost wish that Hell existed.

I figure most people have their list. You know, the list of those who most certainly deserve hell and damnation.

I also figure that no two lists are probably identical.

That signal fact convinces me that I best leave the whole thing up to God.

My revenge then lies in witticisms, snarks, and acid-dripping sarcasm.

I tend to bow to those who do this well, even when I sometimes, mostly, or even always dislike their point of view on just about everything. Christopher Hitchens is one of those types. William F. Buckley was one. Gore Vidal is one.

Vladimir Nabokov famously said that he thought as a genius, wrote as a distinguished author, and spoke as a child. He was awful as an interview in other words. Martin Amis, writing for the Guardian UK, suggests that Hitchens is just the opposite. And for me, that is exactly true. His ideas are simply awful and knee jerk, he writes wonderfully, and he oratory is captivating and brilliant.

“The measure of an education, is that you acquire some idea of the extent of your ignorance.”

“A melancholy lesson of advancing years is the realisation that you can’t make old friends.”

Just a couple little gems.

♦

We groused here often about why so much of the working class in this country votes against its own economic interests in voting for the GOP. Up through 2010, the Rethuglicans have been successful in painting President Obama as “other” meaning other than a white man. They have called him a socialist, a communist, a dictator, they have challenged his birth, his patriotism, his religious affiliation–all this in an attempt appeal to the deep-seated and hotly denied latent racism present in America. PoliticusUSA has a fine piece on the topic.

♦

Oh by the by, we are 1-1 on our predictions so far. Halley Barbour has opted out of running for the Oval. I’m not sure more than three people took note.

♦

Oh, if you want a fun site with tons of Calvin and Hobbes quotes, I found this today. I am an unabashed lover of all things C & H, even named the ginger twins after ’em.

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It comes as no revelation to me that air traffic controllers are constantly falling asleep at the switch. Have you looked at those radar screens? What is there that would not  put you to sleep? Which reminds me of what I thought was probably the most boring job yet created. A man who comes to work each morning, weighs himself on the company scales next to the assembly line, and then steps on a platform. As each set of bathroom scales comes down the line, he steps down on to it, checks its accuracy, and steps, back. He does this all day. ALL DAY!

I once applied for a summer job in a large building in downtown Flint, Michigan. The lady gave me a set of about 25 3-x5 cards and ushered me into a very very very very very large room where there were aisles and aisles and aisles and aisles of tiny file cabinets just the right size for 3-x5 cards. She told me to file the 25 in alphabetical order, and return to her when I was finished. (This was my “test”). I stood there, I looked at the first series of cabinets that rain A’s the entire length of the room. I turned, walked out, placed the 25 cards on her desk, and walked out without saying a word.

Got a “most boring job”? Let us hear about it.

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Trumpy is upping the ante, now wondering how a relatively poor and relatively stooopid little black kid ever got into Columbia and Harvard. The Trumpster ignores all the evidence to the contrary, merrily making evidence-lacking assertions that sound good to the airheads on the extreme right. No, they don’t sound good, it’s the stuff they desperately want to hear to justify what they really want to do, which is hate Obama without being accused of that pesky racism they do deeply harbor in their cold shriveled hearts.

Like his baseless assertions that the President might not be a citizen, again here, he’s “heard” it from someone that Obama was a terrible student, and he knows “lots” of kids with great grades and boards who can’t get in, so, well, it smells, The Donald alleges. And well, you hair smells too Donald, shall we conclude it came from another country?

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You may have heard that the Prez went to Sunday services on Easter. Well, the wackos on the extreme right had something to say about that too. Of course it was a “racist” church, where there were only “black” people and well, you get the drift. Chauncey De Vega gives his take on the “conservative media’s”  assessment.

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What’s on the stove? Shrimp pasta with a lemon/wine Alfredo sauce, and coleslaw.

Held Hostage By the NFL

Tags

agnosticism, Bill O'Reilly, Christians, Contitution, faith, farm workers, gravity, Health care, Humor, immigrants, John Boehner, Latinos, Literature, Mark Twain, Muslims, NFL, physics, Politics, religious doubt, Sports, Steve King, teabaggers, terrorism

Shhh. Be very quiet. This is a house of where now we whisper. “It’s the Playoffs!” Shhhh. Turn around three times, and blink twice. Rub the rabbit’s foot and wiggle your toes. Avoid the black cat.

Negativity be banned. The Packers are poised. They are coming to a TV near you soon. They will prevail. They will overcome.

Okay. Get my drift. My house is in a tizzy all because a bunch of overpaid prima donnas are about to take to the fields of America and cheat, beat each other to a win, all entitling them to advance to the next round.

Everything under heaven and on earth stopped this morning as the Contrarian frantically searched the TV guide looking for THE teams’ game day and time. “I can’t find the early game!” he moaned, nearly swooning with fear.

“Try the Internet,” I mumbled, making the bed.

“Oh God, that will take forever!” he intoned.

“Try NFL Playoffs,” I suggested helpfully.

“I know what to put in!” he huffed.

Ten minutes later, he was pouting, “It’s taking so long!”

“Welcome to my world,” I chuckled.

Suffice it to say that the early game was the late game, and the late game was an even later game, and I get to watch football tonight and then, joy of all joys, do it all over again tomorrow. Whew. I’m sharpening my knitting needles for all the fun!

Now I admit, I can watch football with the best of them, but gee wiz, this is a bit obsessive dontcha think?

Oh, and if there is any question in your mind, the Packers are gonna win the whole thing. You can bet on that literally. Now personally, I have my reservations, but God, I sure ain’t gonna utter them around this house. I’m lucky I got the old goat   Contrarian to go out and bring in some wood to keep my tootsies warm today!

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Bringing another voice to the Huckleberry Finn controversy, I give you one Roger Ebert. His take is I think worth your while. The more I read of Mr. Ebert, the more I respect this man.

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Political Irony has your late night political humor here.

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Don’t know if you heard or not, but Steve King (R-IA) put foot in mouth again. Chastising a Democrat on the floor of the House, for criticizing Speaker Boehner, King regaled that Boehner was full of mendacity, not knowing what the word meant. Boehner indeed is a liar when he claims that the Affordable Heath Care Act is a job killer and costs too much.

Actually it’s working pretty darn good. And that is according to no less than Forbes Magazine. There has been a major uptick in small business buying health insurance for their employees, many for the first time ever, made affordable by the tax credits within the Act.

No doubt Boehner will call that an “opinion” just as he did the CBO estimates that repeal of the act would cause deficits in the area of 230 billion within ten years.

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Since it doesn’t fuel the narrative offered by Faux News and the GOP, you might have missed this story. Egypt, rift with Al Qaeda like attacks on Coptic Christians, and not confident that their government could protect the latter, saw fit to unite to protect Christians worshiping on Christmas. Yes,  that’s right, Muslims  protecting Christians.

It is essential that we report, and spread the word, that Americans who have an agenda that includes vilifying Muslims must be met with facts. Muslims are not to be another “excuse” to blame some “other” for our own failings.

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I’ve tried in the past to interact with atheists, but the NeoAtheists are a different breed, younger, and arrogant, and unwilling to discuss issues on any other plane but from a fundamentalist outlook. I know not where to find agnostics, who by their very nature aren’t usually of such a serious bent as to blog on their questions.

James McGrath, does an admirable job of addressing such concerns, with lots of links to atheists, believers and those in-between. I found the discussion heartening and informative.

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Border Explorer has a very important post on migrant workers in this country. It’s a must read. We owe a great debt to our Latino brothers and sisters for all the work they do. Please read.

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Inexplicably, Billo the Clown (Bill O’Reilly) seems to believe that the fact that the sun rises and sets and that the tides go in and out, is evidence that God exists. Inexplicable because although I believe that O’Reilly is a horses butt and rather uniformed by choice, I didn’t think he was flat-out stupid. Both Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert have had occasion to query how Billo seems to not understand the concept of GRAVITY?  I mean junior high kids could explain that one to Billo. (H/T to James McGrath.

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We mentioned the other day that the GOPers in reading the Constitution in the opening session of the House, omitted the 3/5ths clause, because it had been “amended” out. In reality it doesn’t fit with their narrative that the Founding Fathers were perfect and only instituted a limited government. Forgetting of course that the Articles of Confederation were a “limited federal government” and scrapped as unworkable. Of course the 3/5ths clause suggested that our FF were flawed humans as we all are. An excellent article to that effect is by Paul Harvey, teacher of history at University of Colorado. (H/T to James McGrath)

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What’s on the stove: hotdogs, hash browns and coleslaw.