Posts Tagged ‘politically correct’

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The Scout…

September 5, 2016

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No prob…

August 3, 2016

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A “Save-the Day” candidate!!!

April 1, 2016

or something like that ….

I would like to take this opportunity to announce my availability as a write-in candidate for President of the United States.

I have no party affiliation, but, like most people, I have agendas. My platform? To get government out of the way so the People can exercise their greatness freely. I won’t promise to do anything spectacular to get the media’s skivvies in a twitch because, unlike the current contenders, I realize the fact that my job will be to work with Congress, to lead them, not to bypass them or order them around. I see the wisdom in following the guidelines of the Constitution as opposed to digging around for ways to exploit loopholes. If elected, I don’t intend to spend one minute working on a “legacy”. I mean, who would waste time on such a thing other than a consummate Narcissist? I didn’t pay people to sign my yearbook, for cryin’ out loud, and I didn’t expect those whodid to pay me for the privilege….

Forget the “vetting”. I’ll show the media and the pucker-butts my rap sheet. Who cares? That was then and this is now. Besides, I’ve never regretted anything that I didn’t enjoy the hell out of first, and boy, have I had a blast! Fortunately, other than a few misdemeanors and adolescent social faux pas, I am fully qualified for the office. Well, I’m not a lawyer, but I’m a bit of a windbag and I do know a few.

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I’m not a bumpkin, either. I graduated from college. I’ve been around. I’ve dined with the Governor. I’ve chewed on a cold boloney sandwich in a six by eight. I’ve shaken the hands of Senators, Representatives of Congress, a future Secretary of Defense, and a couple of Hell’s Angels.

But enough about me.

Never mind. Why should I care to run for the most impossible job on the planet?

Primarily because those currently running scare the pants off of me and a whole lot of other people, and those with the PC credentials to go for it themselves are more interested in protecting their PC credentials. They had help with such decisions from millions of misguided citizens who either want the USA to “goose step its way to greatness” or fulfill Kruschev’s prophesy by jamming our path to full Statism into passing gear.

My core politic is a mixture. I think all existing parties have good points and are full of bovine flapjacks on others. Generally speaking, I believe the Constitution is central, and that we should strictly follow it in spirit in order to properly respect it, especially when making adaptations for “context”. I value the concept of the individual as primary, and that of public servants as just that.

I believe it is important that we have a strong legal system that provides rational and appropriate consequences for crimes of violence and property. Personal property is inviolate. Nobody has the right to take the property of another, or to interfere with their use of it. Including government.

I believe in equal treatment under the law for all people. That does not translate into equal accoutrements of some statistically median lifestyle or unlimited freebies to make it feel that way. Nevertheless, I believe in generous welfare and support for those who are unable to care for themselves. That means safe and reasonably comfortable housing. That means basic nutrition, which does not include snack foods, soda pop, lobster, or gourmet fare. Specifying allowable purchases does not violate anybody’s rights. Nobody is “entitled” to any extra credit for being on a “list”, nor should anybody merit any less, for the same reason. I would be interested to see how Congress addresses these issues.

Religion is none of the government’s business. That means government does not promote or show disfavor toward any matter of spirituality, but maintains a neutral position while still following the law. No sacrificing virgins, for example. You can burn a cross if you so desire, but do it on your own lawn. That kind of thing. The Taliban mentality of removing existing historic monuments and icons because they don’t live up to the Politically Correct mandates of the moment is not OK. That behavior violates the rights of those who created such monuments and those who enjoy them. It also violates the right of those who don’t actually give a damn, but by so doing the Taliban effectively are dictating to them certain belief systems and using force to promote them.

I would support and encourage movement toward a society where individuals are free to pursue their dreams to the best of their ability. Not everybody has dreams, of course. Many just wish to have enough to get along, or at least only have enough drive to pursue that level. That’s fine. The rest of society is not obligated to supplement their ambitions, however, in order to achieve some statistically pleasing standard of living.

At least one candidate believes everyone should have access to a “free” college education, not because they are smart but because they can prove they can’t afford it. Of course they can’t afford it, they haven’t graduated yet. As far as education is concerned, I think everybody should have access to college loans, and counseling to assist with applying for any of the thousands of grants available from private industries and other interests. Other than that, debt can be a great motivator for performance. Or, one can acquire an education incrementally, over a period of years, working between enrolled semesters to save money or to play, or whatever.

We have to be realistic about economic matters. I believe the cry to “audit the fed” is a reasonable action, as is serious consideration of returning to a money supply founded upon tangible assets. Moving off of the gold and silver standards was not done because it was a good idea for the people or for the country, but to favor the agendas of a few.

I won’t argue that the Federal Reserve was a bad idea back when it was created, but I will argue that it is a good idea to chew on the question of whether it is a good idea in this particular part of the twenty first century. We are no longer a keystone in the brick and mortar industrial world because that world has changed and given way to an economic environment centered around technology and computer science. Regardless of nationalistic viewpoints, we need to accept that the economy is now global in nature, and if we wish to participate and play king of the mountain therein, we have to understand the rules of the game. I read somewhere that one of the barriers to that understanding is our archaic vision of a “factory” being a structure where raw materials go in the front door and finished products come out the back. The factory still exists, but is segmented around the planet instead of just around a city lot down by the tracks. We play an important part in that economy, but the “brick and mortar” folks are just going to have to find some new way to earn a living. Their ancestors had to do the same thing when the horseshoe and carriage industries fizzled out.

One thing I have a very strong politic about is that government should not be an industry, nor should it operate like one. The USA embarked on a reasonable, rational, and Constitutional path some sixty years ago when it began a concerted effort to eliminate the conditions that disallowed a huge portion of our population equal access to the rights and privileges enjoyed by others. Why they were denied is not relevant at this point. However, the Why has replaced the original problem of deprivation and continues to be a seemingly insurmountable issue today, with the historic deprivation itself actually serving as an “Oh, yeah…that too…” kind of point. We need to learn from, and end, that approach to Constitutional issues.

Just as acting like American Taliban in protecting the freedom of religion concept tends to

violate the very principle it claims to represent, overly exuberant efforts to “end poverty” and all of its cognates has been said to actually give those conditions a certain immortality. Look at it this way:

A need is discovered. Johnny needs shoes.

A program is started to identify other people who need shoes and to provide them with some.

So far, so good.

Such a program requires personnel and a budget.

And a building.

and so forth….oh, and more personnel…

It doesn’t take too many years, and too many additional good idea programs to convert government from a service to a service industry. To many, that may still seem like a good idea. It is not; look at it this way: An industry “produces” a product or service. A product producer needs raw materials, which it purchases from those who have them available for sale. A service industry, like the brick and mortar version, also requires “raw materials”, which comes in the form of whatever “need” the service aspires to fill or resolve. Those who create income by consulting, fixing, caring for, and providing numerous other service related “products” have to compete for the business. Like any business, it requires Research & Development, Sales, Advertising, Professional Providers, Management, Accounting, and more. He who provides the greatest value for the smallest cost wins the game.

A government service industry runs in very much the same manner, with a few key differences.

Products: As mentioned, the product is “need”. In order to stay viable, even before the initially identified need is fulfilled, it becomes crucial to identify new needs to be fulfilled. Johnny has shoes. Now What?

R&D…steps in to either find needs or to create them. That’s where sales and advertising come in. Selling refrigerators to Eskimos and all of that sort of thing.

None of these functions is self sustaining or subject to the “natural” rules and forces of a market economy in thins case, however. The industry takes what it needs, gives away what it wants to, and can mandate the purchase of its products, all of this financed with money taken from the taxpaying public. The only thing missing from this formula is the gun. No it’s not. It’s there, but you won’t see it unless you decline to participate.

The welfare economy requires three things: a limitless, free supply of “raw materials” and cash, a captive market, and force. While many may appear to benefit from it,, it is primarily a “jobs program” for those employed in the industry, and the people in need are a crucial raw material and therefore indispensible. They are captured, they are husbanded like cattle.

Military: Like welfare, originally established to help the helpless and to care for those who are unable to care for themselves, military functions were originally conceived to defend the physical nation and its people from enemies “foreign and domestic”. Eisenhower wasn’t the first to notice, but he is known for voicing concerns about a “military-industrial complex. ” Such a marriage was reasonable and necessary during WWII, of course, but it was not subsequently dismantled. It found new things to do, new causes to fight for. In fact, the Unites States of America has been engaged in armed conflict of one kind or another for 222+ our of the last 230+ years…93% of our very existence. That speaks to something other than “self defense.” It is an industry<e/m>. A “profit center,” if you please. The 100 top producing “industries” are all engaged in the production, sales, and distribution of weaponry or some related “product”. When we aren’t asserting ourselves as global police, we serve as mercenaries, or “observers”. Right. That’s a little like being an “observer” at an orgy, isn’t it?

Just as an end to poverty would bankrupt the country and millions of previously middle class wage earners, starting the cycle all over again, if “peace” was ever actually achieved, our surviving brick and mortar industries and “defense” related interest would collapse.

In other words, despite our vigorous PR and traditions to the contrary, the USA is a welfare state in the making, and not in the least bit interested in world peace. We can’t afford to win either campaign.

I’d like to find a way to change that. I’d like to rally those who would also be willing to take the risks involved in becoming a productive, independent population, more interested in making and selling widgets than making and selling weapons, war, and welfare.

Unions will, of course, be among the most energetic of my detractors, as would be federal employees and civilian federal contractors whose jobs depend on serving the “needs” of the poor or of the military industrial complex.

It’s a free country, but that doesn’t mean it’s free to live here, and it shouldn’t obligate the population to pay for each others’ pipe dreams or the pipe dreams of those with a pocketful of power to play with.

That’s enough for now. I’m hungry, anyway. I think I’ll pop up to Martha’s Vineyard for
brunch…

 

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On farming …

January 12, 2016

and covering your donkey ….

There was a farmer who grew excellent quality corn. Every year he won the award for the best grown corn. One year a newspaper reporter interviewed him and learned something interesting about how he grew it. The reporter discovered that the farmer shared his seed corn with his neighbors. “How can you afford to share your best seed corn with your neighbors when they are entering corn in competition with yours each year?” the reporter asked.

“Why sir,” said the farmer, “Didn’t you know? The wind picks up pollen from the ripening corn and swirls it from field to field. If my neighbors grow inferior corn, cross-pollination will steadily degrade the quality of my corn. If I am to grow good corn, I must help my neighbors grow good corn.”

So it is with our lives… Those who want to live meaningfully and well must help enrich the lives of others, for the value of a life is measured by the lives it touches. And those who choose to be happy must help others find happiness, for the welfare of each is bound up with the welfare of all…

 

[That little story was swiped from Facebook without permission, ……………..what?…..]  

 

Everyone (I suppose) loves a “feel-good” story. Like any story, of course, when told around the campfire often enough, and for an extended time, the details cannot help but change.

This is not by any design or intent. Perhaps the greatest reason would be context. Another would be the nature of human communication or language itself.

“Watching a buddy’s back”, for example, is kind of a nice metaphor for friendship, teamwork, and so forth. The precise meaning depends upon context. One might safely assume that the concept was first given voice during some primitive confrontation somewhere, sometime, and when used in that same context even today could be taken quite literally, indicating concerns regarding survival. The intent and meaning today, however, is normally a mixed bag of the literal and the metaphorical. While the circumstance surrounding the phrase’s use may be metaphorical, and would be considered an exaggeration of the mood accompanying a literal context, the intent would be to lend precisely that kind of intensity to a more benign situation.

The study of philology, or the history and origins of words and phrases, may provide some insight.

An immeasurable and indistinct length of time ago, one of humanity’s primary concerns was survival. If a person should survive into the following day, he would then focus on water, and food. Thirst and hunger abated, or at least temporarily distracted, things like shelter and clothing, such as it were, could see daylight. Extensively changed, often beyond recognition, and certainly beyond any imaginable context for most of us, much of our modern communication could likely be linked to those times long before car payments and credit limits and matters of “style” became the first things one thought of upon awakening in a comfortable bed to the aroma of automatically perked coffee.

Thus, I would suggest that the warm-fuzzy tale of a farmer and his fields of corn must bear such a history, its origins lost among the multitude of lessons of survival no doubt learned through observing the experiences of those who didn’t survive to tell the tales.

As mentioned earlier, contexts change, as do intents, though function may remain related. The path of human development and evolution evidently favored those who gathered into groups and coined such strokes of genius as “safety in numbers,” just as they favored those who ate organic material instead of pretty rocks.

Several hundred contexts later, with countless factors added to, or subtracted from, the pile, such allegories as the corn farmer tale came to be part and parcel of various religious tenets. As is often the case, “points” are made, in more ways than one, by the use of exaggeration, overstatement, and the clouding of boundaries between contexts, so that survival of the group transitioned to survival within the group, and so on. Securing enough points to earn whatever the promised rewards might be meant following the tenets of one’s inherited or chosen creed better than one’s neighbor, who, ironically, one was also often charged with ensuring the welfare of. Sometimes that meant giving your best seed to the farmer down the road.

Presently, early in the twenty first century, the evolving metaphor has come to link salvation, in its various formats, with providing for the survival of imperfect strangers through the provision of metaphorical as well as actual Free Lunch, Potlatch style.

And similar to the tale of the fortunate farmer (and his even more fortunate neighbors, who apparently enjoyed the products of his labor), seeing to the welfare and good fortune of one’s neighbors, even if it means conscripting the assets and unwitting participation of The Unwashed, may very well be about taking care of one’s own backside far more than that of one’s neighbor.

 

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HATE….

July 11, 2015

ya gotta love it….

I was trying to think of all of the things I have hated during my life.

I used to hate stewed tomatoes, but I got over that decades ago.

I never hated spinach like most kids. Popeye was my cartoon hero. I liked spinach best the way my mother prepared it though, fresh, and steamed just enough to take the backbone out of it and leave it with some texture. I couldn’t stand “school spinach”, however. I hated that. School Spinach was the texture of snot.

While I’m in the food department, let’s talk about asparagus. As a kid, I gagged if I was in the same room with it. I hated asparagus. When it came to mealtimes, my mother was of the old “clean your plate or die” school, but I even got special dispensation from her to take a pass on that disgusting dead plant. Now, I love it. If my mother had lived to see me shoveling down a forkful of asparagus, she’d have keeled over.

I hated my ninth grade algebra teacher, but everybody hated that sonuvabitch, so I don’t really count that. My class was the first to attend the brand new school, and we sat in “modern” individual chairs with individual table desks that weren’t bolted to the floor and connected in a chain from the front of the room to the back, each desk including a bench for the next kid in front of you. Anyway, Mr. SOB was apparently a Marine Corps veteran and had an annoying little ritual of making us stand next to our desks until he would bark “Ready……SEATS!” So, one day during lunch, a friend of mine and I sneaked into the room and stuck “Greenie Stick-on Caps” under the foot of each chair leg. The only downside was that my class wasn’t scheduled for Algebra after lunch.

Other than him, I can’t think of too many people that I have disliked that much. I’ve always had a quick temper and an eclectic vocabulary to give it wings, and I’ve been thankful for fast sneakers and big friends on more than one occasion. Some people and I just plain were never meant to be in the same place at the same time, but life happens. Nevertheless, I don’t recall “hating” any of them, even though I rattled off some rather unpalatable pedigrees for a few.

Academically speaking, I hated just about everything in high school except Art, Shop, and believe it or not, Chemistry. I wasn’t very good at Chemistry, but one could do some really cool stuff with some of the things in the lab. Besides, there was this girl at the next station….curled my 18 year old earlobes and turned them beet red, she did. Anyway, I thought it was clever to dribble sulfuric acid on my lab partner’s towel, among other things. And he and I discovered that if one removed the stoppers from these two vials on the shelf and left them off long enough and close enough together this neat little cloud started to form in the air. Unfortunately, highly toxic precipitates were not appreciated and that behavior was never repeated. All other classes, I hated.

The only course I encountered in college that earned my ultimate rancor was a Sociology class I had to take in my Junior year. The professor had written one of the books, and the poor man was a complete yawn. He could have put cement to sleep. After two classes, I found myself going to the beach instead. Around the middle of the semester I received a curt message in my student mailbox informing me that if I didn’t show up for the mid-term I’d be dropped and failed. I actually had forgotten about the class; one of the burdens of doing a summer semester at a college in Florida. I hated that class, but I survived it. Oddly enough, I got a “B”.

I’ve hated spiders for 71 years. I’ve established a questionable truce with them in recent years, however, sort of along the lines of North and South Korea. If the critter doesn’t get into “my space”, I’ll usually leave him alone, especially if its just a little one or a daddy long-legs. Those big goobers are a different story. We lived in a old house a stone’s throw from the river for fifteen years. It had a detached barn that had been a blacksmith’s shop a hundred years ago and it made a fantastic workshop for me. It also produced spiders that should have had license plates. If you haven’t met a Maine barn spider, good for you. I even hate talking about them.

Back during my Grizzly Adams incarnation almost 40 years ago, I decided it would be a great idea to live back in the woods. There was a lot of that stuff going around back in the seventies, and I had to give it a shot. I bought eleven acres of land a half mile in from the paved road on an old logging trail and contracted with a guy who needed to have a small barn taken down. I was to do the job in exchange for whatever I could salvage. I ended up with more than enough to build a small cabin and an outhouse, but it cost me $60 to have some guy haul off the stuff I couldn’t use. Anyway, crawling around in the upper reaches of that old barn was an adventure, to say the least, and that was when I met my first Maine barn spider. I was straddling a beam extending out from the loft, holding a wrecking bar in one hand and the beam with the other, and all of a sudden there it was, not two feet in front of my face. Attila the Arachnid! I went catatonic.

Instinct took over, I guess, because I executed a “lunge” with that wrecking bar that would have made my fencing instructor proud back in college, launching that juicy three inch horror from his web. I’ll never forget the audible “splat” it made when it hit the floor down below. I hate spiders, especially barn spiders.

Regardless of what the movers and shakers of the twenty first century may hold to be true, both the self-anointed and those who actually warrant the designation, it is normal human behavior to experience a full range of emotions, including hatred. It’s OK to hate. Trust me! Besides, all charges of violating federal Hate laws are based on presumption and hearsay. And even if some doofus on trial signs a document stating “Yup, I hated the bahstid,” there can be no proof beyond a reasonable doubt. What is not OK, however, is to engage in “hateful behavior”. You know, like assault and homicide. If someone beats the tar out of me (which happened one time in college outside of a bar), my assailant’s opinion of me would have no bearing on my injuries. The guy who cleaned my clock back in school by the way, “hated” me, because I was wearing a fraternity jacket and walking in “his” alley. His emotional pathologies were irrelevant, however, and would be equally irrelevant today, in my book. His actions, however were both injurious and illegal.

Not hating might actually be more harmful than being honest about that unpleasant neurochemical circumstance.

Let’s face it. This whole obsession with “hate” is based on asinine science. If one has strong, negative mindset about some person, place, food, insect, or academic endeavor, it is real and pretending it does not exist does not change the fact that it does. Most body functions freely exist and occur whether or not the host acknowledges them. Far better one should recognize the unwanted (fill in the blank) and deal with it appropriately, i.e. in accordance within the generally accepted parameters of the society.

When I feel “hatred“, which is extremely rarely, I find I am far less likely to act on it badly if I man up to it and seek more acceptable outlets. Profanity is a phenomenal way to spend a gutful when there is nothing around to break that I don’t need or treasure.

In conclusion, I would encourage people to be willing to own negative emotions, feelings, opinions, and ugly socks. None of it matters. Whether one Hates another human being or is hormonally obsessed with one matters not. What matters is how one responds to those circumstances. As far as the socks are concerned, they’re fine, too. Its just not advisable to wear them on a first date or to work on the day of your annual performance evaluation. …Strike that last one.

Oh, and I hate tofu, also. I almost forgot. That crap has no right being sold in the food department. It should be stocked with household chemicals or auto parts.

If you hated reading this, I don’t care.

 

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Beauty, among other things….

November 8, 2014

is in the eyes/ears/mind/imagination of the beholder….

Adjectives used to be applied with a little more thought than seems to be case these days, especially in the use of indirect pejoratives. It’s difficult to engage in conversation without teetering on the brink of committing some nearly unforgivable verbal act and being labeled sexist, racist, homophobic, bigoted, etcetera. The potential violations of “PC” are unlimited, the definitive factor being whether or not a potential accuser is in a foul mood.

Interestingly, however, the alleged “targets” aka “victims” of sexism, racism, homophobia, bigotry, etcetera apparently are immune from being named perpetrators of same. When was the last time a woman was called sexist, a minority was accused of being racist, a non-heterosexual was called heterophobic, etcetera?

The irony may very well be that in the effort to eliminate various forms of “prejudice” we will have succeeded only in redefining and redirecting it.

 

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Trolling…

October 3, 2014

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