Egypt. Westernized, civilized (to a point), suffered under the thumb of a rather oppressive guy. The Egyptian Army- taught by us, armed by us, financed by us. Apolitical, widely trusted by the people. Disobeyed Mubarrak and did not fire on the demonstrators. Quietly took over the administration of the country and is now working towards elections.
Libya- Russian trained, Russian supplied. Socialist country, loved by the left because like, you know, Qaddafi? He’s a revolutionary, man. Now mowing down their people by the thousands.
Mull that.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
More Salmon for Kunta Kinte
Just watched my TIVO’d episode of Community, the one where Pierce gets his revenge. In awe, I am. Sheer friggin' genius. Just like last week's episode, the librarian, and the week before's, Dungeons and Dragons, the Don’t Do Drugs one before that. Epic. Each of them. Each of them, the best episode they ever did. Until you get to the next episode.
How is that possible?
At first, I suspected aliens, but executive producer Dan Harmon doesn’t look like a lizard wearing a human mask. Looks like Bill Murray, instead. Which may be explanation enough, and that his writers are God-touched wizards, the progeny of a very select breeding program secretly initiated decades ago among Mensa members.
Community is, hands down, the greatest television show ever. Just ever. Not only that, it is the best written television show ever. Ever. E. Ver.
And yet, the ratings suck. Por que?
Because... American Idol is the most popular show on television. No further explanations necessary.
How is that possible?
At first, I suspected aliens, but executive producer Dan Harmon doesn’t look like a lizard wearing a human mask. Looks like Bill Murray, instead. Which may be explanation enough, and that his writers are God-touched wizards, the progeny of a very select breeding program secretly initiated decades ago among Mensa members.
Community is, hands down, the greatest television show ever. Just ever. Not only that, it is the best written television show ever. Ever. E. Ver.
And yet, the ratings suck. Por que?
Because... American Idol is the most popular show on television. No further explanations necessary.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
They be riotin' in Madison
And can you blame them, those cruelly treated, horribly abused, beaten, enslaved public school teachers, who have to endure such terrible hours, you know, 9 to about 4 o’clock, with the summers and all holidays and snow days and planning days off, and their retirement paid for and their health care paid for and their schooling paid for and all their days off paid for, too, while never having to worry about being fired? Governor Snidley Whiplash and his Republican Brotherhood of Evil. If the teachers have to pony up, oh say, 4-6% of their income as contributions to their health care and retirements, how are they going to spend that extra week in the beach house towards the end of August? They’ll be much too grumpy when school starts back up, and the children will suffer, oh yes, they will. Citizens of Wisconsin are just going to have to forego their own retirement and vacations and a better car and maybe a bigger house to ensure their little sweetikums are not permanently traumatized because Miss Brooks didn’t get enough of a freak-on during her well-deserved three months off. Might end up naked in a car with one of her 16 year old students or something. And it’s not like Wisconsinites aren’t getting bang for buck. Just look how well Wisconsin schools are doing.
Yeah. Just look.
C-. Good job, teach.
Yeah. Just look.
C-. Good job, teach.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Ode to Jean
We buried our mother on Wednesday. She’d died two Mondays before of sepsis and dementia, Dilaudid easing the way. It was a nice, quiet passing, a blessing. It was about the only blessing she ever had.
My Mom’s life was a cruelty, a long continuous assault of abuse and malice and absolutely undeserved punishment. She was a nice girl, a fun girl, very pretty, who honored her parents and did well in school and spent her Jersey days doing what nice 1940’s girls did. Then she met Dad.
She spent the next 25 years or so under Dad’s constant, frenzied, misogynistic attack. The good days were limited to mere scorn, sneering contempt and insults. The bad- womanizing (if they were actually old enough to be called women), constant accusations of her infidelity to mask his own, the withholding of money, and the occasional beating. He turned his wrath and fists on her children as they came along, and she had to stand and watch as he broke them, one by one, rendering what slight protection she could. On a day too long in coming, she helped them flee into the night and across the country, the wounded making good an overdue escape.
By that time she was in her late 40’s, unskilled, alone with three shell-shocked teenagers, so she found another man. And he was not a beater or a pedophile, but was certain her place was under his thumb, and certain her children’s place was nowhere with him. So, once again, she was at the mercy of the stronger, and we kids drifted off to find a haven we still haven’t found, and Mom shriveled a little bit more with each passing year. She outlived the second one, and spent her last three years with a daughter, no money, no home, and, mercifully, a disappearing memory.
And as far as I can see, there was simply no reason for it.
Oh, the preacher spoke her homilies and said Mom was now being comforted in the bosom of the Lord, or words to that effect. But I am hoping the first question Mom asked God was, “Why?” Because no lesson was imparted, at least not one the preacher would accept. Mom was not being punished for a life of evil; on the contrary, she was being punished because she did not understand the nature of evil, having not one evil bone in her body. The evil ones, Dad and the second husband, never paid any penalty that we could see. Dad continued on, managing to ruin at least three other women and their kids. The second one, well, I don’t know, since he and I never talked in the entire time he was married to Mom. But all the wrinkles and scars of his behavior were etched into Mom’s face, not his.
And yes, yes, I know, God did not do this- the men she married did, and their behavior proved, once again, as has been proved over and over and over, that we are a sinful species desperately in need of the saving grace of God. But it was proved to persons who learned that lesson pretty early, who did not need a continuous reminder, and the direct victim was a nice woman who spent her life blinking at the air hammer that slammed the bolt into her forehead, day after day after day.
There was no universal truth imparted, no inching of the human race along a slight incline towards betterment. No, about the only thing that happened was a lovely, happy young Jersey girl was systematically torn apart over decades, until the best thing in her life was an extra dose of some morphine-based pain killer and a nice coffin and a skilled embalmer’s art giving us all just a bare glimpse of that long lost young girl, somewhere under the old bruises.
Why, God?
My Mom’s life was a cruelty, a long continuous assault of abuse and malice and absolutely undeserved punishment. She was a nice girl, a fun girl, very pretty, who honored her parents and did well in school and spent her Jersey days doing what nice 1940’s girls did. Then she met Dad.
She spent the next 25 years or so under Dad’s constant, frenzied, misogynistic attack. The good days were limited to mere scorn, sneering contempt and insults. The bad- womanizing (if they were actually old enough to be called women), constant accusations of her infidelity to mask his own, the withholding of money, and the occasional beating. He turned his wrath and fists on her children as they came along, and she had to stand and watch as he broke them, one by one, rendering what slight protection she could. On a day too long in coming, she helped them flee into the night and across the country, the wounded making good an overdue escape.
By that time she was in her late 40’s, unskilled, alone with three shell-shocked teenagers, so she found another man. And he was not a beater or a pedophile, but was certain her place was under his thumb, and certain her children’s place was nowhere with him. So, once again, she was at the mercy of the stronger, and we kids drifted off to find a haven we still haven’t found, and Mom shriveled a little bit more with each passing year. She outlived the second one, and spent her last three years with a daughter, no money, no home, and, mercifully, a disappearing memory.
And as far as I can see, there was simply no reason for it.
Oh, the preacher spoke her homilies and said Mom was now being comforted in the bosom of the Lord, or words to that effect. But I am hoping the first question Mom asked God was, “Why?” Because no lesson was imparted, at least not one the preacher would accept. Mom was not being punished for a life of evil; on the contrary, she was being punished because she did not understand the nature of evil, having not one evil bone in her body. The evil ones, Dad and the second husband, never paid any penalty that we could see. Dad continued on, managing to ruin at least three other women and their kids. The second one, well, I don’t know, since he and I never talked in the entire time he was married to Mom. But all the wrinkles and scars of his behavior were etched into Mom’s face, not his.
And yes, yes, I know, God did not do this- the men she married did, and their behavior proved, once again, as has been proved over and over and over, that we are a sinful species desperately in need of the saving grace of God. But it was proved to persons who learned that lesson pretty early, who did not need a continuous reminder, and the direct victim was a nice woman who spent her life blinking at the air hammer that slammed the bolt into her forehead, day after day after day.
There was no universal truth imparted, no inching of the human race along a slight incline towards betterment. No, about the only thing that happened was a lovely, happy young Jersey girl was systematically torn apart over decades, until the best thing in her life was an extra dose of some morphine-based pain killer and a nice coffin and a skilled embalmer’s art giving us all just a bare glimpse of that long lost young girl, somewhere under the old bruises.
Why, God?
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Let's get real over Egypt, shall we?
There is much, much talk on the radio about the “democratization” going on in Egypt. If that’s what you want to call it, fine. The usual talking heads are telling us we need to be supportive of (a) the mobs and/or (b) a chastened Mubarrak who will, after seeing the light, allow the incremental establishment of a good, just, wonderfully free society where there had been, hitherto, none.
Stop it. Please.
There is no Democracy Fairy waving a magic wand over the Great Unwashed and presto-ing them into bicameral government and constitutional law. That so many believe in this Fairy is the delusion of our own favors- because we here, in this unique country, a true aberration of history, enjoy a democratic form of self-governance, we believe all shall want, and shall have, our fortune.
Ain’t gonna happen.
Foist of all, you gotta remember we were thrown out of every perfectly good country in Europe and Asia because we are, collectively, a mongrelized bunch of malcontents who chafe at authority and will pick a fight with anyone at any time for any reason. Not the docile, wheat threshing peasants the kings and dictators of the Old World desired. So, they gave us the ole heave-ho, and we, somehow, managed to throw together a type of governance that works well for our temperament. Our temperament. No one else’s.
Twoist, all of the dog-poor dirt eating countries over which we fret have had at least 200 years to take the measure of our success and decide if this is the way to go. Please note, they haven’t. They remain as dog-poor and dirt eating as they were at about, oh, say, the year 1132. Christian calendar. The only persons in those dog-poor countries who had even a modicum of democratic urge made there way here and are now fat, dumb and happy Americans, and to them, mazeltov, welcome, good to have ya. But the home countries remain dog poor.
Why is that? Because the rage in their hearts and the urge to kill Boris’ goat is far more important than self-governance. They are peasants in their thinking, and always will be. So, the chances of something similar to Congress and the electoral college emerging from the looting of the Alexandria museum is slim, to none.
I hope I’m wrong. Please feel free to let me know if it turns out I am. But the only evangelization you can do is religious, and the person evangelized has to make a personal decision. You can’t evangelize a form of government. That’s what the Soviets do. Or did. Or are still doing, who knows with those guys.
A country has interests. Not friends. Protect those.
Stop it. Please.
There is no Democracy Fairy waving a magic wand over the Great Unwashed and presto-ing them into bicameral government and constitutional law. That so many believe in this Fairy is the delusion of our own favors- because we here, in this unique country, a true aberration of history, enjoy a democratic form of self-governance, we believe all shall want, and shall have, our fortune.
Ain’t gonna happen.
Foist of all, you gotta remember we were thrown out of every perfectly good country in Europe and Asia because we are, collectively, a mongrelized bunch of malcontents who chafe at authority and will pick a fight with anyone at any time for any reason. Not the docile, wheat threshing peasants the kings and dictators of the Old World desired. So, they gave us the ole heave-ho, and we, somehow, managed to throw together a type of governance that works well for our temperament. Our temperament. No one else’s.
Twoist, all of the dog-poor dirt eating countries over which we fret have had at least 200 years to take the measure of our success and decide if this is the way to go. Please note, they haven’t. They remain as dog-poor and dirt eating as they were at about, oh, say, the year 1132. Christian calendar. The only persons in those dog-poor countries who had even a modicum of democratic urge made there way here and are now fat, dumb and happy Americans, and to them, mazeltov, welcome, good to have ya. But the home countries remain dog poor.
Why is that? Because the rage in their hearts and the urge to kill Boris’ goat is far more important than self-governance. They are peasants in their thinking, and always will be. So, the chances of something similar to Congress and the electoral college emerging from the looting of the Alexandria museum is slim, to none.
I hope I’m wrong. Please feel free to let me know if it turns out I am. But the only evangelization you can do is religious, and the person evangelized has to make a personal decision. You can’t evangelize a form of government. That’s what the Soviets do. Or did. Or are still doing, who knows with those guys.
A country has interests. Not friends. Protect those.
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