Personal posts
posted by Joubert at 8:05 AM
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Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Dogs I have known: Chummy
The first dogs (in fact the first animals) that I knew were Chummy, my dad's "Alsatian" and Nessie, my granny Flossie's Maltese. I didn't really get to know Nessie as she was a fussy little dog who did not have much time for anyone but Flossie. Dad called his dog an Alsatian but Chummy was a bit of a mutt as I found out years later - after Chummy was already dead and buried and I was less naive. (The picture above is of me with Flossie, Chummy and Nessie.)
I was told by my mom and dad (repeatedly) that, when I was born, Chummy hated me because he was jealous. But I recall that by the time I was four or so (which is the age that I have my first memories of) Chummy loved me and I loved Chummy. In 1952, when I was five, Chummy saved our lives.
Dad and Mom were managing a hotel in Bloemfontein (where my mother and J.R.R.Tolkien were born) There were two wings to the hotel: there was a four story Victorian building with wrought-iron balconies, a foyer with potted palms and a grand but very creaky staircase; then there was a new, plain, utilitarian two story wing.
We lived on the top floor of the Victorian wing. My sister and I were not allowed onto the balcony because it sloped dangerously and might fall at any moment. This is where us kids had chicken-pox and had to lie in darkened rooms for weeks, itching and scratching, burning up with fever and feeling like death warmed up.
Soon after that, the Victorian wing was condemned as "unfit for human habitation" and we moved into a ground floor apartment in the new wing. The apartment had only one huge sunny living room and two bedrooms down a dark passage. The kitchen/living room was basically a large verandah enclosed with floor to ceiling glass windows which let in so much sun that I can remember being almost blinded whenever we had a late breakfast as we did on Sunday mornings.
Sunday breakfast at that kitchen table was heaven on earth for me. Dad would do the cooking. The sunny room was filled with the delicious smells of fried steak, lamb chops, pork chops with the kidneys still attached, more kidneys (my mouth is watering just thinking of them) and boerewors which is an Afrikaner sausage made of beef and lamb and seasoned with lots of pepper, mustard, coriander and cumin. (The last two spices were added to the staid Cape Dutch cuisine by the "Slamaaiers" - slaves from the Spice Islands who were usually domestic servants and cooks.) And of course there was always crispy bacon.
But breakfast was not only meat. Dad also fried eggplants and tomatoes and bananas and eggs in a mixture of real butter and peanut butter. And then there was the toast dipped in beaten eggs with cinnamon and deep fried. While dad was cooking, we ate our first course which was mielie-meal, a thick porridge made of maize, what Americans call "grits." Mielie-meal is the staple of the South African diet like rice is to the Chinese. It is served with nearly every meal - with gravy for dinner or with milk and sugar for breakfast.
Maybe that was when our family got into the habit of never using the sitting room - because we didn't have one - and always sitting around the kitchen table.
Dad always sat a the kitchen table - usually reading a newspaper or a cowboy book like Shane or a Raymond Chandler mystery or the horse racing "form." He seldom wore a shirt as we did not have air-conditioning and he sweated a lot and chain smoked and scratched himself and coughed and farted and was generally comfortable at the kitchen table.
Of course my mom would complain about my father's "filthy habits" but she was fairly tolerant of his coarse behavior probably because she was a farm girl used to a lot more than just farts. I guess the kitchen table was the center of our family life because we gathered around Dad who was the best cook in our USA - the Union of South Africa, as it was known in those days.
Oh, where was I? Right! We had been living in this apartment for a few days (or a few weeks - time is longer and slower for kids) when I was sent to the local government school for the first time. Soon after starting school, Chummy alerted my father one night by barking at his bedside. Dad awoke and smelled smoke. He got us out of the aparment just in time to see the Victorian wing being enveloped in flames.
Dad took us over to the house next door and asked the neighbors if mom and us kids could stay there. I used to play with the next door neighbors' kids but they made us sit on the back stoop wrapped in blankets, watching the balconies flare up and fall onto the new wing as the old building collapsed in on itself and flames roared and shot so high that I knew that the fire could kill us all whenever it wanted to. We found out later that hoboes and tramps had taken to drinking and sleeping in the condemned building and had made a fire beneath the grand staircase.
The next day I ran away from school soon after getting there and refused to ever go back to school again. I wanted to make sure that my family was okay in case another fire happened. Unfortunately I ended up going back to a school when my cousin offered to take me to his school - a private Catholic school run by the Christian Brothers.
But I never did take to school and always hated it till the day I matriculated 13 years later. I simply tolerated it as a necessary evil but I can't complain because it prepared me for even worse restrictions on my freedom in the workaday world later in life. School for me meant discipline. And the Catholics sure did discipline me - by beating me with a cane. They said it was to break my ego but it actually just made me more determined to eventually have my own way.
Where was I? Oh, yes - Chummy. Chummy lived for another 5 or 6 years to the ripe old age of 13. He got cancerous lumps and used to lie down in the middle of the road hoping a car would kill him. Finally Dad realized what was up and put Chummy down. That's when I got a little wire-haired terrier called Punchy but I'll save that shaggy dog story for another time.
Here is a picture of my mom and dad with Chummy and another dog who died before I was born.
posted by Joubert at 4:11 AM
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Sunday, February 26, 2006
Sunday pics and poems - skunk cabbage
Yes, I have posted this poem before but it perfectly suits these pictures of my favorite weeds, skunk cabbage, growing along the creek. Well, maybe our creek isn't a "darksome burn" but it does eventually flow into a lake.
Inversnaid
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
This darksome burn, horseback brown,
His rollrock highroad roaring down,
In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam
Flutes and low to the lake falls home.
A windpuff-bonnet of fáwn-fróth
Turns and twindles over the broth
Of a pool so pitchblack, féll-frówning,
It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning.
Degged with dew, dappled with dew
Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through,
Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern,
And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn.
What would the world be, once bereft
Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left,
O let them be left, wildness and wet;
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
Here are some pics of one of my favorite weeds, lysichiton americanum or skunk cabbage. These start flowering in spring and the bloom lasts almost the whole summer. Sure, they stink if you crush or bruise them but they are still beautiful.
I will confess that I am one of those people who enjoy the smell of skunk - not a huge dose, just a little whiff wafting on the breeze. The smell of skunk cabbage is not overpowering and I have even used them as cut flowers. And they don't stink if you don't bruise them.
There are dozens of skunk cabbages along a shallow part of our north creek where the water is still enough not to wash them downstream. Some of the plants grow over four feet tall and the flowers can be almost two feet high and nearly a foot wide.
UPDATE: The bottom pic is one that Gayle sent me of the "woolly thistle" which we were discussing in the comments below. "Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet."
Inversnaid
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
This darksome burn, horseback brown,
His rollrock highroad roaring down,
In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam
Flutes and low to the lake falls home.
A windpuff-bonnet of fáwn-fróth
Turns and twindles over the broth
Of a pool so pitchblack, féll-frówning,
It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning.
Degged with dew, dappled with dew
Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through,
Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern,
And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn.
What would the world be, once bereft
Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left,
O let them be left, wildness and wet;
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
Here are some pics of one of my favorite weeds, lysichiton americanum or skunk cabbage. These start flowering in spring and the bloom lasts almost the whole summer. Sure, they stink if you crush or bruise them but they are still beautiful.
I will confess that I am one of those people who enjoy the smell of skunk - not a huge dose, just a little whiff wafting on the breeze. The smell of skunk cabbage is not overpowering and I have even used them as cut flowers. And they don't stink if you don't bruise them.
There are dozens of skunk cabbages along a shallow part of our north creek where the water is still enough not to wash them downstream. Some of the plants grow over four feet tall and the flowers can be almost two feet high and nearly a foot wide.
UPDATE: The bottom pic is one that Gayle sent me of the "woolly thistle" which we were discussing in the comments below. "Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet."
posted by Joubert at 6:25 AM
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Saturday, February 25, 2006
Political posts
By Jamie Glazov
posted by Joubert at 8:15 AM
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The five food groups
One: Meat
a) My favorite meat is roast beef, roast potatoes, a green veggie and thick brown gravy made from the drippings in the roasting pan. This meal is made perfect by the addition of Yorkshire pudding baked in the drippings. I call beef "brown tofu" because it is just as versatile - left-over roast beef makes great Chinese stir-fry and Tex-Mex fajitas. I must have roast beef at least once a week and steak twice a week.
b) I also love lamb especially chops (not neck or shoulder chops) and roast leg of lamb with fresh mint sauce. The left-over leg is perfect for Indian curries.
c) I must have roast chicken once a week. It's comfort food because roast chicken was all we could afford for Sunday dinner when I was a kid. It should always be served with lots of home-made thyme and sage stuffing and brown gravy. The skin must be golden-brown and crunchy and the wings should be cooked to a crisp so you can eat the tips of the bones. Whatever meat is left over makes good curry and the bones are boiled for soup with carrots, celery, parsley and pre-sauteed garlic and onions. I don't like fried chicken and a little bit of chicken liver goes a long way. The only way I like drumsticks is cold with potato salad and a glass of chardonnay for a picnic.
d) My dad used to roast pork until the skin would turn into a half-inch thick piece of crispy crackling. I loved the crackling but not the meat. I had to eat it as a kid but I no longer do. I find it too dry and dense and tasteless and it upsets my digestion. Maybe I don't like it because of my Jew genes or because my favorite animals on my grandpa's farm were the pigs.
e) My all-time favorite meats are fish of all kinds especially salmon, trout, halibut, crab, lobster, oysters, mussels, clams, shrimp. You name and I'll eat it and, if it is cooked in any type of Italian, Provencal or Spanish style, I'll make a pig of myself. Heaven on earth is a half-pound of smoked salmon or a dozen barbecued oysters or a whole dungeness crab with lots of melted butter.
Two: Dairy products
a) Butter should be spread on bread to a depth of at least a quarter of an inch. Butter should also be used in nearly everything that you cook except for those recipes that call for cream.
b) Almost any dessert can be made into a masterpiece with the addition of whipped cream. If you have never tasted Cornish clotted cream, go buy some before you die. There is no desert nicer than home-made ice-cream except home-made fruit pies WITH ice-cream.
c) There a very few cheeses that I don't like. Sadly one of them is Danish havarti which we have been buying a lot lately due to the anti-boycott. I've found that the carraway-seed havarti is the most tolerable. Danish blue is okay but is not as nice as the other blue cheeses like gorgonzola, rocquefort and my absolute favorite, English Stilton. The British also make the best hard cheese - real aged cheddar. French brie and camenbert are also nice - the "riper" the better. I will not eat any socalled "cheese" made by Kraft.
Three: Chocolate
I enjoy nearly everything made by Lindt especially the dark chocolate truffles. The only cake that I really like is chocolate cake and my favorite ice-cream is chocolate. I eat at least an ounce of dark chocolate a day with a glass of red wine after dinner. Those are my heart medications because I can't take the pharmaceutical heart meds as I am allergic to them. I don't like socalled "candy bars." My favorite cookie is sjokolade hawerkoek, an Afrikaner cookie made of dark chocolate melted in butter which is added to oats and coconut with a splash of ruby port and baked. It must be served hot.
Four: Wine
There is an old saying, "Alcohol made from grains (beer and most spirits) evokes barnyard animals; alcohol made from grapes evokes the Muses." I drink two glasses of red wine every night - one with dinner and one afterwards - unless we are having fish or chicken when I will have a glass of white wine followed by a glass of red (with an ounce of dark chocolate - see "heart medication" above.)
The only spirit that I drink is cognac or a nice oak-aged mellow brandy and then only for "medicinal purposes." A small nip after dinner aids digestion.
Oh, okay - I have a wee gin and tonic as soon as I get home from work but that's also for "medicinal purposes." Tonic contains quinine which I need for my "restless leg syndrome." Qunine is undrinkable without gin to sweeten it. Gin and tonic is what enabled the British to build their Empire. Without the quinine they would all have died of malaria in the Tropics.
Five: Everything else
I eat lots of fruits and vegetables both raw and cooked. Some veggies are not nice raw like eggplant and okra and obviously you have to cook rice, potatoes, turnips, parsnips and all squashes. Asparagus is tastier when cooked but nearly all other veggies can be eaten raw with olive oil, a dash of balsamic vinegar and some chopped raw garlic or a creamy salad dressing. I count home-made bread as a vegetable. Oh, and don't forget an apple a day keeps the doctor away and bananas are full of healthy potassium and give me wonderful scary nightmares which save me money as I don't have to rent horror movies.
I could live on avocados and mangos probably because I did as a kid. We had them in the back yard with bananas, papayas and guavas. It was free food and all you had to do was climb up a tree, find a comfortable perch and start munching.
a) My favorite meat is roast beef, roast potatoes, a green veggie and thick brown gravy made from the drippings in the roasting pan. This meal is made perfect by the addition of Yorkshire pudding baked in the drippings. I call beef "brown tofu" because it is just as versatile - left-over roast beef makes great Chinese stir-fry and Tex-Mex fajitas. I must have roast beef at least once a week and steak twice a week.
b) I also love lamb especially chops (not neck or shoulder chops) and roast leg of lamb with fresh mint sauce. The left-over leg is perfect for Indian curries.
c) I must have roast chicken once a week. It's comfort food because roast chicken was all we could afford for Sunday dinner when I was a kid. It should always be served with lots of home-made thyme and sage stuffing and brown gravy. The skin must be golden-brown and crunchy and the wings should be cooked to a crisp so you can eat the tips of the bones. Whatever meat is left over makes good curry and the bones are boiled for soup with carrots, celery, parsley and pre-sauteed garlic and onions. I don't like fried chicken and a little bit of chicken liver goes a long way. The only way I like drumsticks is cold with potato salad and a glass of chardonnay for a picnic.
d) My dad used to roast pork until the skin would turn into a half-inch thick piece of crispy crackling. I loved the crackling but not the meat. I had to eat it as a kid but I no longer do. I find it too dry and dense and tasteless and it upsets my digestion. Maybe I don't like it because of my Jew genes or because my favorite animals on my grandpa's farm were the pigs.
e) My all-time favorite meats are fish of all kinds especially salmon, trout, halibut, crab, lobster, oysters, mussels, clams, shrimp. You name and I'll eat it and, if it is cooked in any type of Italian, Provencal or Spanish style, I'll make a pig of myself. Heaven on earth is a half-pound of smoked salmon or a dozen barbecued oysters or a whole dungeness crab with lots of melted butter.
Two: Dairy products
a) Butter should be spread on bread to a depth of at least a quarter of an inch. Butter should also be used in nearly everything that you cook except for those recipes that call for cream.
b) Almost any dessert can be made into a masterpiece with the addition of whipped cream. If you have never tasted Cornish clotted cream, go buy some before you die. There is no desert nicer than home-made ice-cream except home-made fruit pies WITH ice-cream.
c) There a very few cheeses that I don't like. Sadly one of them is Danish havarti which we have been buying a lot lately due to the anti-boycott. I've found that the carraway-seed havarti is the most tolerable. Danish blue is okay but is not as nice as the other blue cheeses like gorgonzola, rocquefort and my absolute favorite, English Stilton. The British also make the best hard cheese - real aged cheddar. French brie and camenbert are also nice - the "riper" the better. I will not eat any socalled "cheese" made by Kraft.
Three: Chocolate
I enjoy nearly everything made by Lindt especially the dark chocolate truffles. The only cake that I really like is chocolate cake and my favorite ice-cream is chocolate. I eat at least an ounce of dark chocolate a day with a glass of red wine after dinner. Those are my heart medications because I can't take the pharmaceutical heart meds as I am allergic to them. I don't like socalled "candy bars." My favorite cookie is sjokolade hawerkoek, an Afrikaner cookie made of dark chocolate melted in butter which is added to oats and coconut with a splash of ruby port and baked. It must be served hot.
Four: Wine
There is an old saying, "Alcohol made from grains (beer and most spirits) evokes barnyard animals; alcohol made from grapes evokes the Muses." I drink two glasses of red wine every night - one with dinner and one afterwards - unless we are having fish or chicken when I will have a glass of white wine followed by a glass of red (with an ounce of dark chocolate - see "heart medication" above.)
The only spirit that I drink is cognac or a nice oak-aged mellow brandy and then only for "medicinal purposes." A small nip after dinner aids digestion.
Oh, okay - I have a wee gin and tonic as soon as I get home from work but that's also for "medicinal purposes." Tonic contains quinine which I need for my "restless leg syndrome." Qunine is undrinkable without gin to sweeten it. Gin and tonic is what enabled the British to build their Empire. Without the quinine they would all have died of malaria in the Tropics.
Five: Everything else
I eat lots of fruits and vegetables both raw and cooked. Some veggies are not nice raw like eggplant and okra and obviously you have to cook rice, potatoes, turnips, parsnips and all squashes. Asparagus is tastier when cooked but nearly all other veggies can be eaten raw with olive oil, a dash of balsamic vinegar and some chopped raw garlic or a creamy salad dressing. I count home-made bread as a vegetable. Oh, and don't forget an apple a day keeps the doctor away and bananas are full of healthy potassium and give me wonderful scary nightmares which save me money as I don't have to rent horror movies.
I could live on avocados and mangos probably because I did as a kid. We had them in the back yard with bananas, papayas and guavas. It was free food and all you had to do was climb up a tree, find a comfortable perch and start munching.
posted by Joubert at 7:53 AM
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Why I'm a Jeffersonian - part 25a
When I first met my born again Christian neighbors, I told them that we would have to agree to disagree on religion - that I was a Jeffersonian, a Deist (like him) and that I greatly admired the Jefferson Bible. Thomas Jefferson was not perfect (no human being is perfect) but I never tire of reading him. Here's an excerpt from Jefferson's letter to his 15 year old nephew, Peter Carr, August 19, 1785.
Most of the letter is advice about what to read. Jefferson gives his young nephew a long list of authors to read. Many of the authors that he suggests are still worth reading today. Jefferson advises Carr to study science, history and philosophy and then tells him:
A strong body makes the mind strong. As to the species of exercise, I advise the gun. While this gives a moderate exercise to the body, it gives boldness, enterprise, and independence to the mind. Games played with the ball, and others of that nature, are too violent for the body, and stamp no character on the mind. Let your gun therefore be the constant companion of your walks. Never think of taking a book with you. The object of walking is to relax the mind. You should therefore not permit yourself even to think while you walk; but divert your attention by the objects surrounding you. Walking is the best possible exercise...
A little walk of half an hour, in the morning, when you first rise, is advisable also. It shakes off sleep, and produces other good effects in the animal economy. Rise at a fixed and an early hour, and go to bed at a fixed and early hour also. Sitting up late at night is injurious to the health, and not useful to the mind. Having ascribed proper hours to exercise, divide what remain, (I mean of your vacant hours) into three portions. Give the principal to History, the other two, which should be shorter, to Philosophy and Poetry.
God was definitely on the side of our Founding Fathers when He blessed them with reason, decency, common sense, confidence and optimism and He is still on our side against the forces of darkness, destruction, madness and pessimistic fatalism which are the hallmarks of Mahommed's "cookbook for terror," the Koran, and the cult of death we know as Islam.
"No free man shall ever be debarred the use of arms. The strongest reason for the people to retain the right to keep and bear arms is, as a last resort, to protect themselves against tyranny in government." Thomas Jefferson.
Most of the letter is advice about what to read. Jefferson gives his young nephew a long list of authors to read. Many of the authors that he suggests are still worth reading today. Jefferson advises Carr to study science, history and philosophy and then tells him:
A strong body makes the mind strong. As to the species of exercise, I advise the gun. While this gives a moderate exercise to the body, it gives boldness, enterprise, and independence to the mind. Games played with the ball, and others of that nature, are too violent for the body, and stamp no character on the mind. Let your gun therefore be the constant companion of your walks. Never think of taking a book with you. The object of walking is to relax the mind. You should therefore not permit yourself even to think while you walk; but divert your attention by the objects surrounding you. Walking is the best possible exercise...
A little walk of half an hour, in the morning, when you first rise, is advisable also. It shakes off sleep, and produces other good effects in the animal economy. Rise at a fixed and an early hour, and go to bed at a fixed and early hour also. Sitting up late at night is injurious to the health, and not useful to the mind. Having ascribed proper hours to exercise, divide what remain, (I mean of your vacant hours) into three portions. Give the principal to History, the other two, which should be shorter, to Philosophy and Poetry.
God was definitely on the side of our Founding Fathers when He blessed them with reason, decency, common sense, confidence and optimism and He is still on our side against the forces of darkness, destruction, madness and pessimistic fatalism which are the hallmarks of Mahommed's "cookbook for terror," the Koran, and the cult of death we know as Islam.
"No free man shall ever be debarred the use of arms. The strongest reason for the people to retain the right to keep and bear arms is, as a last resort, to protect themselves against tyranny in government." Thomas Jefferson.
posted by Joubert at 6:16 AM
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Friday, February 24, 2006
Sorry, but I'm not a victim
I got this email: "How is it that you are able to look past G.W.'s stance against gay marriage to say that you like him as a person? I would be very interested to know that, if you don't mind."
I answered: I used to be dead against gay marriage and voted against it here in Oregon because most of the gay men I've known are such disgusting creeps and they would make a mockery of it. But I do know some decent lesbians who are raising kids and they would like it. So, now I hope they get at least something like civil unions to protect their families.
I am able to accept Bush's stance because our country has bigger problems than gay marriage. My private life is the least important part of who I am. I'm an American first. I don't like most gays and have nothing to do with any of them. Maybe people think I'm a bit queer because I live with my two best buddies, Chas who has been with me for 25 years and Andy who has been with us for 13 years. But none of us can stand the whole "gay lifestyle."
I don't call myself "gay." Just call me queer, fag or poofter or don't bother to give me a label at all. I don't need to belong to a group dedicated to getting special rights. The whole "gay rights" agenda is pure commie crap to me. I don't need special treatment and I hate been thought of as a "victim" which is what gay politics is all about. I can take care of my own interests. If people don't like who I am, that's fine by me. They're entitled to think whatever they want.
Anyway, I think Bush would like me just the way I am. I don't think he is a hateful man at all and he would understand that the three of us prefer farming, hunting and fishing to any "gay" nonsense.
I answered: I used to be dead against gay marriage and voted against it here in Oregon because most of the gay men I've known are such disgusting creeps and they would make a mockery of it. But I do know some decent lesbians who are raising kids and they would like it. So, now I hope they get at least something like civil unions to protect their families.
I am able to accept Bush's stance because our country has bigger problems than gay marriage. My private life is the least important part of who I am. I'm an American first. I don't like most gays and have nothing to do with any of them. Maybe people think I'm a bit queer because I live with my two best buddies, Chas who has been with me for 25 years and Andy who has been with us for 13 years. But none of us can stand the whole "gay lifestyle."
I don't call myself "gay." Just call me queer, fag or poofter or don't bother to give me a label at all. I don't need to belong to a group dedicated to getting special rights. The whole "gay rights" agenda is pure commie crap to me. I don't need special treatment and I hate been thought of as a "victim" which is what gay politics is all about. I can take care of my own interests. If people don't like who I am, that's fine by me. They're entitled to think whatever they want.
Anyway, I think Bush would like me just the way I am. I don't think he is a hateful man at all and he would understand that the three of us prefer farming, hunting and fishing to any "gay" nonsense.
posted by Joubert at 9:04 AM
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Tuesday, February 21, 2006
The Blair - Bush connection
Just a few rambling thoughts.
I grew up in a sort of democracy. In apartheid South Africa only whites were allowed to vote but they had a real voice in the running of the country and controlled the government through their votes (not the other way around) and, when push came to shove, 67% of the whites voted to abolish apartheid.
Then I moved to the UK and it took me a while to realize that it was not a true democracy. They claim that royalty is just symbolic but the whole culture is one of passivity towards government and the ruling class. They look to the government to solve their problems. But they also hate their government and whine and piss and moan about it all the time.
If you want proof that the UK is not a true democracy, just consider this. Nearly 75% of the Brits disagreed with the invasion of Iraq. So, how was their government able to ignore the peoples' wishes and got to war? If 75% of Americans disagreed with the war, we would not have been able to do it. That happened with the Nam war - when the majority of Americans decided they did not want it, it was ended.
In Britain, the aristocrats still wield the real power. Blair does what the Queen wants - well they agree on most things because the royals like socialism - it keeps the masses from being so revolting. The Queen does what her Privy Council recommends. The Privy Council is made of up of her aristocratic friends and royal relatives who are major shareholders in the Queen's businesses, Unilever and British Petroleum among others. Royalty is all about keeping business in the family. Even the royals call their family "The Firm."
The Bushes and the royals have had a long friendship. The Windsors own lots of land in Texas (for their race horses) as well as major oil company interests. That's how Blair (who is a socialist/liberal no matter which way you slice him - in fact I can't stand his politics) can work so well with Bush.
Blair is the British aristocracy's lapdog and Bush, as I've said many times before, is not a conservative.
I grew up in a sort of democracy. In apartheid South Africa only whites were allowed to vote but they had a real voice in the running of the country and controlled the government through their votes (not the other way around) and, when push came to shove, 67% of the whites voted to abolish apartheid.
Then I moved to the UK and it took me a while to realize that it was not a true democracy. They claim that royalty is just symbolic but the whole culture is one of passivity towards government and the ruling class. They look to the government to solve their problems. But they also hate their government and whine and piss and moan about it all the time.
If you want proof that the UK is not a true democracy, just consider this. Nearly 75% of the Brits disagreed with the invasion of Iraq. So, how was their government able to ignore the peoples' wishes and got to war? If 75% of Americans disagreed with the war, we would not have been able to do it. That happened with the Nam war - when the majority of Americans decided they did not want it, it was ended.
In Britain, the aristocrats still wield the real power. Blair does what the Queen wants - well they agree on most things because the royals like socialism - it keeps the masses from being so revolting. The Queen does what her Privy Council recommends. The Privy Council is made of up of her aristocratic friends and royal relatives who are major shareholders in the Queen's businesses, Unilever and British Petroleum among others. Royalty is all about keeping business in the family. Even the royals call their family "The Firm."
The Bushes and the royals have had a long friendship. The Windsors own lots of land in Texas (for their race horses) as well as major oil company interests. That's how Blair (who is a socialist/liberal no matter which way you slice him - in fact I can't stand his politics) can work so well with Bush.
Blair is the British aristocracy's lapdog and Bush, as I've said many times before, is not a conservative.
posted by Joubert at 4:44 PM
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Sunday, February 19, 2006
Sunday pics and poems -Trilliums
Pea Brush
by Robert Frost
I walked down alone Sunday after church
To the place where John has been cutting trees
To see for myself about the birch
He said I could have to bush my peas.
The sun in the new-cut narrow gap
Was hot enough for the first of May,
And stifling hot with the odor of sap
From stumps still bleeding their life away.
The frogs that were peeping a thousand shrill
Wherever the ground was low and wet,
The minute they heard my step went still
To watch me and see what I came to get.
Birch boughs enough piled everywhere!—
All fresh and sound from the recent axe.
Time someone came with cart and pair
And got them off the wild flower’s backs.
They might be good for garden things
To curl a little finger round,
The same as you seize cat’s-cradle strings,
And lift themselves up off the ground.
Small good to anything growing wild,
They were crooking many a trillium
That had budded before the boughs were piled
And since it was coming up had to come.
To One Unknown
By Helen Dudley
I have seen the proudest stars
That wander on through space,
Even the sun and moon,
But not your face.
I have heard the violin,
The winds and waves rejoice
In endless minstrelsy,
Yet not your voice.
I have touched the trillium,
Pale flower of the land,
Coral, anemone,
And not your hand.
I have kissed the shining feet
Of Twilight lover-wise,
Opened the gates of Dawn—
Oh, not your eyes!
I have dreamed unwonted things,
Visions that witches brew,
Spoken with images,
Never with you.
Trilliums are a type of lily native to most of North America. They're called trilliums because the plants have only three leaves and the flowers have only three sepals. But the simple white flowers last for months and eventually become mottled with pink spots and then turn a pale lilac.
Oregon trilliums are easy to overlook in the wild and it took me many months of hiking in the forest before I found any on my land. Every now and then I would see a few nestling in the shade beneath the douglas firs but I did not want to transplant them in case I killed them.
Eventually I found a dozen or so gathered together in an almost inaccessible spot on the steep hill that slopes down to our south creek. I decided to transplant five of them to a spot closer to the house where I could enjoy them without having to take a long hike into the forest.
That was not easy as the stems are very delicate and break easily and their three leaves are the only source of food so, if you break the stem, you kill the whole plant. I had to carefully clear away almost two feet of dead ferns before I found where the long thin stems grew out of the ground. The bulbs were very small and difficult to find in the soil.
Towards the end of summer they die down and completely disappear so I had no idea if I had been successful in transplanting any of them. The following spring only one of the five trilliums re-appeared. Hopefully this spring there will be a few more because the real beauty of trilliums is when they grow in profusion.
by Robert Frost
I walked down alone Sunday after church
To the place where John has been cutting trees
To see for myself about the birch
He said I could have to bush my peas.
The sun in the new-cut narrow gap
Was hot enough for the first of May,
And stifling hot with the odor of sap
From stumps still bleeding their life away.
The frogs that were peeping a thousand shrill
Wherever the ground was low and wet,
The minute they heard my step went still
To watch me and see what I came to get.
Birch boughs enough piled everywhere!—
All fresh and sound from the recent axe.
Time someone came with cart and pair
And got them off the wild flower’s backs.
They might be good for garden things
To curl a little finger round,
The same as you seize cat’s-cradle strings,
And lift themselves up off the ground.
Small good to anything growing wild,
They were crooking many a trillium
That had budded before the boughs were piled
And since it was coming up had to come.
To One Unknown
By Helen Dudley
I have seen the proudest stars
That wander on through space,
Even the sun and moon,
But not your face.
I have heard the violin,
The winds and waves rejoice
In endless minstrelsy,
Yet not your voice.
I have touched the trillium,
Pale flower of the land,
Coral, anemone,
And not your hand.
I have kissed the shining feet
Of Twilight lover-wise,
Opened the gates of Dawn—
Oh, not your eyes!
I have dreamed unwonted things,
Visions that witches brew,
Spoken with images,
Never with you.
Trilliums are a type of lily native to most of North America. They're called trilliums because the plants have only three leaves and the flowers have only three sepals. But the simple white flowers last for months and eventually become mottled with pink spots and then turn a pale lilac.
Oregon trilliums are easy to overlook in the wild and it took me many months of hiking in the forest before I found any on my land. Every now and then I would see a few nestling in the shade beneath the douglas firs but I did not want to transplant them in case I killed them.
Eventually I found a dozen or so gathered together in an almost inaccessible spot on the steep hill that slopes down to our south creek. I decided to transplant five of them to a spot closer to the house where I could enjoy them without having to take a long hike into the forest.
That was not easy as the stems are very delicate and break easily and their three leaves are the only source of food so, if you break the stem, you kill the whole plant. I had to carefully clear away almost two feet of dead ferns before I found where the long thin stems grew out of the ground. The bulbs were very small and difficult to find in the soil.
Towards the end of summer they die down and completely disappear so I had no idea if I had been successful in transplanting any of them. The following spring only one of the five trilliums re-appeared. Hopefully this spring there will be a few more because the real beauty of trilliums is when they grow in profusion.
posted by Joubert at 4:30 AM
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Friday, February 17, 2006
Rules for commenting on my blog
1) Introduce yourself in a civilized and courteous way.
[I can't think of Rule number 2 but there are plenty of sub-clauses to Rule number 1 which may give you some hints about how to conduct yourself on my blog.]
1.a) Give a link to your website, blog or online profile and I'll come visit and see if I would like to spend some time in your company.
1.a.i) I don't hang out with people I don't trust or respect.
1.a.ii) If you wish to remain anonymous or use a fake name at least be friendly enough to command my attention and make yourself credible and trustworthy.
1.a,iii) If you don't like what I say or I don't like what you say, go away and get your own blog and post your objections in your own territory and on your own time - not in my space and on my time.
1.a.iv) You cannot demand my respect by force and, if you resort to any behavior that I deem inappropriate or uncivilized, I will ignore you.
1.a.v) I'll probably take you seriously if you are a charming, sincere, original and unique individual.
1.a.vi) But don't be so "unique" that you're solipsistic or overly eccentric in a paranoid and anti-social manner.
1.a.vii) Always remember that, if I don't like you, I can use my DELETE button.
1.a.viii) Being funny helps.
1.a.ix) Being a fount of useful knowledge also helps.
1.a.x) Being optimistic and cheerful will get my attention any time.
[I can't think of Rule number 2 but there are plenty of sub-clauses to Rule number 1 which may give you some hints about how to conduct yourself on my blog.]
1.a) Give a link to your website, blog or online profile and I'll come visit and see if I would like to spend some time in your company.
1.a.i) I don't hang out with people I don't trust or respect.
1.a.ii) If you wish to remain anonymous or use a fake name at least be friendly enough to command my attention and make yourself credible and trustworthy.
1.a,iii) If you don't like what I say or I don't like what you say, go away and get your own blog and post your objections in your own territory and on your own time - not in my space and on my time.
1.a.iv) You cannot demand my respect by force and, if you resort to any behavior that I deem inappropriate or uncivilized, I will ignore you.
1.a.v) I'll probably take you seriously if you are a charming, sincere, original and unique individual.
1.a.vi) But don't be so "unique" that you're solipsistic or overly eccentric in a paranoid and anti-social manner.
1.a.vii) Always remember that, if I don't like you, I can use my DELETE button.
1.a.viii) Being funny helps.
1.a.ix) Being a fount of useful knowledge also helps.
1.a.x) Being optimistic and cheerful will get my attention any time.
posted by Joubert at 5:15 AM
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Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Living in a trailer park
My office in the RV park is a 28ft trailer. I was just washing dishes in the kitchenette after lunch when I thought, "I could live in an RV if I were alone in life and living on a fixed income. The bathroom is near to the bed in case you have a wet fart at night, your kitchen is three steps away in case you get the midnight munchies and it's easier to clean than a regular house."
About 90% of the tenants in my RV park are senior citizens. This was a deliberate choice on my part. I offer a 15% senior discount so as to attract them. I run a good park with strict rules geared towards my seniors' needs such as quiet time between 9pm and 7am; no big dogs; all dogs to be leashed; no kids running around without adult supervision etc.
The park is safe and secure and beautifully landscaped with manicured lawns, rhododendrons, fuschias and lots of flower beds and a picnic area and dog-walking path next to the year-round creek. The showers and laundry are cleaned everyday and I evict any trouble-makers at the drop of a hat.
Most of my senior tenants are widowers. There is one couple in their seventies who have been in the park since before I bought it. I call them the Mayor and Mayoress. There used to be one elderly lady tenant but she died last year at the age of 83. Many of these widowers are military vets - two in their 80s who fought in WWll and couple of Korean vets. The vets are relatively well-off with their SS AND pensions compared with the non-vets have to live on about $700 a month SS.
If I were alone and had only $700 a month to live on, I would live in an RV too. The cheapest studio apartment in town is about $350 a month. Electricity for a small flat costs about $60 in summer and $100 in winter. Water and garbage cost about $40 and cable TV costs $50 a month. That's $500 a month in summer and $540 in winter.
Seniors get about $150 a month in food stamps. That's not enough for a month of food. (My food and grocery bill for the three of us in my house is $1,200 a month but that includes food for four dogs, two cats and two canaries but not the farm animals.) That leaves my tenants with about $160 a month for more food and other groceries including pet food as well as laundry, medications, car fuel and phone. Most of my seniors do not have cars or phones as that would mean less food.
Rent in the RV park is $328 a month. With the discount for seniors that is $279. For $279 they get the usual water and sewer hook-ups. Garbage disposal and electricity is included in the rent and so is the 50 bucks expanded cable TV. That leaves $421 per month (if your income is $700) versus $160 if you rented a flat.
There are other plusses to living in an RV park. First: you own your own home; no one can kick you out of your house and no landlord can come nosing around in your castle. You're much more independent living in an RV than renting an apartment and you might even have enough money to buy your blood-pressure medications.
About 90% of the tenants in my RV park are senior citizens. This was a deliberate choice on my part. I offer a 15% senior discount so as to attract them. I run a good park with strict rules geared towards my seniors' needs such as quiet time between 9pm and 7am; no big dogs; all dogs to be leashed; no kids running around without adult supervision etc.
The park is safe and secure and beautifully landscaped with manicured lawns, rhododendrons, fuschias and lots of flower beds and a picnic area and dog-walking path next to the year-round creek. The showers and laundry are cleaned everyday and I evict any trouble-makers at the drop of a hat.
Most of my senior tenants are widowers. There is one couple in their seventies who have been in the park since before I bought it. I call them the Mayor and Mayoress. There used to be one elderly lady tenant but she died last year at the age of 83. Many of these widowers are military vets - two in their 80s who fought in WWll and couple of Korean vets. The vets are relatively well-off with their SS AND pensions compared with the non-vets have to live on about $700 a month SS.
If I were alone and had only $700 a month to live on, I would live in an RV too. The cheapest studio apartment in town is about $350 a month. Electricity for a small flat costs about $60 in summer and $100 in winter. Water and garbage cost about $40 and cable TV costs $50 a month. That's $500 a month in summer and $540 in winter.
Seniors get about $150 a month in food stamps. That's not enough for a month of food. (My food and grocery bill for the three of us in my house is $1,200 a month but that includes food for four dogs, two cats and two canaries but not the farm animals.) That leaves my tenants with about $160 a month for more food and other groceries including pet food as well as laundry, medications, car fuel and phone. Most of my seniors do not have cars or phones as that would mean less food.
Rent in the RV park is $328 a month. With the discount for seniors that is $279. For $279 they get the usual water and sewer hook-ups. Garbage disposal and electricity is included in the rent and so is the 50 bucks expanded cable TV. That leaves $421 per month (if your income is $700) versus $160 if you rented a flat.
There are other plusses to living in an RV park. First: you own your own home; no one can kick you out of your house and no landlord can come nosing around in your castle. You're much more independent living in an RV than renting an apartment and you might even have enough money to buy your blood-pressure medications.
posted by Joubert at 3:36 PM
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Monday, February 13, 2006
I understand this
In my post below, "Whose side is God on," my esteemed fellow blogger, Miss Peace Moonbeam, stepped out of character for a moment and said:
My point is this concerning Islam:
According to the Bible, 4000 years ago, two sons were born to Abraham. The Lord said that Ismael would be "...a wild donkey of a man, His hand will be against everyone, and everyone's hand will be against him; and he will live to the east of all his brothers."
God said his blessing would be on Isaac but promised he would make the offspring of both brothers great nations, and he did. But we all know the stagnation, bloodshed, and turmoil that has defined the Arab culture versus the prosperity, and advancment of the line of Isaac.
2500 years later, Ishmael's offspring produced Islam, a religion that, as you correctly pointed out, fundamentally considers anyone not Muslim unclean, especially the Jews. By doctrine, it is an antichrist religion as it denies Christ as being the son of God, or a savior in any way, putting it also in opposition to Christianity.
These two cultures were created thousands of years ago, and the prophetic results have been, and are being, realized. The only thing that has kept this "war of the worlds" from coming to fruition has been the overwhelming superiority of western military might. Terrorism and the growing availability of weapons of mass destruction are now creating the real threat against our great civilizations from these otherwise impotent fanatics.
This war between Islam and "the people of the book" will be one that never ends, as it is at its core, a religious war. Many (if not most) Bible believers identify this final clash as the prophetic "last days" battle that will rock the world. Even agnostics or atheists who understand the pillars of the Muslim faith and the increasingly fundamentalist leanings of many of its followers must see the inevitability of this final war.
As far as the input of God - I don't think anyone can believe God is God without accepting the premise that he is all powerful, not a mere mortal spectating on his heavenly perch, watching to see what happens. If he created galaxies by speaking them into exsistence, I assure you, he controls what is his. There is nothing he does not control, he is God.
This is just my take on what I feel is a pre-ordained event, put into motion by The Big Guy Himself 4000 years ago.
All I can add to that is that I understand it and agree with it but I go further and say that no one who is not a Christian is fully civilized. If Muslims wish to be respected they must understand that Jesus was the only manifestation in human form of God on earth. But that also goes for the Old Testament prophets. They were not God as Jesus was God and therefore their words are not the words of God but only inspired "revelations" which can be changed by a better man and that was Jesus.
My only disagreement is subtle: self-fulfilling prophecies. This is a Jewish prophecy made by people who had not yet been saved by Jesus. God has made us creative enough to change that outcome. Both Jews and Muslims can and maybe one day will accept Jesus' message of love of life, kindness and forgiveness. You know I enjoy the way you comunicate. My biggest compliment to anyone is that they are clean and clear (even in satire.) You know I think you are brilliant. Thanks.
My point is this concerning Islam:
According to the Bible, 4000 years ago, two sons were born to Abraham. The Lord said that Ismael would be "...a wild donkey of a man, His hand will be against everyone, and everyone's hand will be against him; and he will live to the east of all his brothers."
God said his blessing would be on Isaac but promised he would make the offspring of both brothers great nations, and he did. But we all know the stagnation, bloodshed, and turmoil that has defined the Arab culture versus the prosperity, and advancment of the line of Isaac.
2500 years later, Ishmael's offspring produced Islam, a religion that, as you correctly pointed out, fundamentally considers anyone not Muslim unclean, especially the Jews. By doctrine, it is an antichrist religion as it denies Christ as being the son of God, or a savior in any way, putting it also in opposition to Christianity.
These two cultures were created thousands of years ago, and the prophetic results have been, and are being, realized. The only thing that has kept this "war of the worlds" from coming to fruition has been the overwhelming superiority of western military might. Terrorism and the growing availability of weapons of mass destruction are now creating the real threat against our great civilizations from these otherwise impotent fanatics.
This war between Islam and "the people of the book" will be one that never ends, as it is at its core, a religious war. Many (if not most) Bible believers identify this final clash as the prophetic "last days" battle that will rock the world. Even agnostics or atheists who understand the pillars of the Muslim faith and the increasingly fundamentalist leanings of many of its followers must see the inevitability of this final war.
As far as the input of God - I don't think anyone can believe God is God without accepting the premise that he is all powerful, not a mere mortal spectating on his heavenly perch, watching to see what happens. If he created galaxies by speaking them into exsistence, I assure you, he controls what is his. There is nothing he does not control, he is God.
This is just my take on what I feel is a pre-ordained event, put into motion by The Big Guy Himself 4000 years ago.
All I can add to that is that I understand it and agree with it but I go further and say that no one who is not a Christian is fully civilized. If Muslims wish to be respected they must understand that Jesus was the only manifestation in human form of God on earth. But that also goes for the Old Testament prophets. They were not God as Jesus was God and therefore their words are not the words of God but only inspired "revelations" which can be changed by a better man and that was Jesus.
My only disagreement is subtle: self-fulfilling prophecies. This is a Jewish prophecy made by people who had not yet been saved by Jesus. God has made us creative enough to change that outcome. Both Jews and Muslims can and maybe one day will accept Jesus' message of love of life, kindness and forgiveness. You know I enjoy the way you comunicate. My biggest compliment to anyone is that they are clean and clear (even in satire.) You know I think you are brilliant. Thanks.
posted by Joubert at 6:23 AM
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Sunday, February 12, 2006
Whose side is God on?
In the post below about demonizing our enemies, I wrote in the comments:
I know without a doubt that God works in mysterious ways his wonders to perform and He's on OUR side because it is the side of goodness, truth and beauty. Allah is a God of death and hatred and will not triumph and I added:
Stalin said, "America, is like a healthy body and its resistance is threefold: its patriotism, its morality, and its spiritual life. If we can undermine these three areas, America will collapse from within."
Peace responded:
"..I know without a doubt that God works in mysterious ways his wonders to perform and He's on OUR side because it is the side of goodness, truth and beauty..."
I realize this may have been said tongue-in-cheek, but throughout Biblical history God has chastised civilization with civilization. How are we to know whether God is using (or is allowing Satan to use)Islam and it's sphere of influence, against a morally declining America and her allies? Even Israel was allowed to suffer horribly for her sins at the hands of countries God dispised. Will the minions of Allah prevail in the end? Of course not. May God use them to punish his wayward children? Maybe, it's his M.O.
I replied: Peace, it wasn't tongue in cheek. I definitely don't claim to understand God's mysterious ways. It was spoken as an American not as a Christian. I am culturally Christian but my religion is America. I also don't believe in prophesies because they can be self-fullfilling and God gave us free will. I believe that God made this world not for suffering but for happiness - to enjoy his creation. Sure there is suffering but, without the contrast of pain, we could not know pleasure. Light/dark and all the opposites are just part of the beauty.
If our free will is used to bring about more happiness for the human race, then we are in alignment with God's plan and will receive grace to accomplish it. I firmly believe that God is on the side of America. God is on the side of anyone who discovers that liberty and happiness is the birthright of man, that we were created to know God and to rejoice and sing His praises. Sure we are a decadent society and the Muslims have every right to be appalled at some of our immorality but, in the end, we are the lesser of two evils. Muslims do not worship a God of life and joy but of death and hatred.
I'm posting this here because not everyone reads the comments and I want to know what you all think.
PS Fred and Peace both said they'd like to sit down and have a few drinks with me. I'd enjoy that too so how about y'all come on over to my trailer and sip some of my damn fine all American redneck moonshine with me and we can chew the fat and settle the world's affairs?
I know without a doubt that God works in mysterious ways his wonders to perform and He's on OUR side because it is the side of goodness, truth and beauty. Allah is a God of death and hatred and will not triumph and I added:
Stalin said, "America, is like a healthy body and its resistance is threefold: its patriotism, its morality, and its spiritual life. If we can undermine these three areas, America will collapse from within."
Peace responded:
"..I know without a doubt that God works in mysterious ways his wonders to perform and He's on OUR side because it is the side of goodness, truth and beauty..."
I realize this may have been said tongue-in-cheek, but throughout Biblical history God has chastised civilization with civilization. How are we to know whether God is using (or is allowing Satan to use)Islam and it's sphere of influence, against a morally declining America and her allies? Even Israel was allowed to suffer horribly for her sins at the hands of countries God dispised. Will the minions of Allah prevail in the end? Of course not. May God use them to punish his wayward children? Maybe, it's his M.O.
I replied: Peace, it wasn't tongue in cheek. I definitely don't claim to understand God's mysterious ways. It was spoken as an American not as a Christian. I am culturally Christian but my religion is America. I also don't believe in prophesies because they can be self-fullfilling and God gave us free will. I believe that God made this world not for suffering but for happiness - to enjoy his creation. Sure there is suffering but, without the contrast of pain, we could not know pleasure. Light/dark and all the opposites are just part of the beauty.
If our free will is used to bring about more happiness for the human race, then we are in alignment with God's plan and will receive grace to accomplish it. I firmly believe that God is on the side of America. God is on the side of anyone who discovers that liberty and happiness is the birthright of man, that we were created to know God and to rejoice and sing His praises. Sure we are a decadent society and the Muslims have every right to be appalled at some of our immorality but, in the end, we are the lesser of two evils. Muslims do not worship a God of life and joy but of death and hatred.
I'm posting this here because not everyone reads the comments and I want to know what you all think.
PS Fred and Peace both said they'd like to sit down and have a few drinks with me. I'd enjoy that too so how about y'all come on over to my trailer and sip some of my damn fine all American redneck moonshine with me and we can chew the fat and settle the world's affairs?
posted by Joubert at 7:50 AM
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Saturday, February 11, 2006
Spring cleaning
I was just thinking about the new things that I learned last year. Maybe you already knew them. So, call me dumb but I think it just means that you can teach an old dog new tricks. As one of my teachers said a half a century ago, "You're slow on the uptake but, when you finally learn, you never forget."
While I was cleaning out my "Miscellaneous" file, I found the following notes:
111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987,654,321. (Now be honest - did you know that?)
I always thought that your side-view mirrors should show a corner of the rear of your vehicle. Wrong. I found out that, if you angle the mirrors out as far as they will go, you eliminate the blind spot on your right entirely and almost eliminate it on the left. I found that on some blog that I have forgotten.
I also found out that, because I'm old, blogs have got to be easy on the eyes - the simpler the design the better and I don't like brightly colored text on a black background. Other than that, I look first for the author's politics. I really can't be bothered reading leftist stuff, no matter how "intellectual," because that's all you get from the MSM anyway. Then I look for the blogger's character. I don't care if a person is clever or not as long as they are sincere. I prefer reading blogs of ordinary folks like myself. The big bloggers are okay but they are not the pulse of America. Ordinary folk are.
If you like reading in bed, but don't like holding heavy books, buy a laptop computer stand at Office Depot or Staples. They cost about $40 and are easily assembled. This type of stand is on wheels and can be raised to about 3 feet or so off the floor. You wheel it up to the edge of your bed and swivel it around so that the "desk" portion is over your lap. The "desk" part can be tilted down from the horizontal to hold a book. It's great for very heavy books like atlases, Shakespeare or the Bible.
On the last day of January 1906 an earthquake in Ecuador and Colombia of perhaps 8.8 magnitude on the Richter scale killed about 2,000. Sixteen days later there was a large Caribbean quake, followed five days later by one in the Caucasus, and on March 17 by another that killed 1,228 on the island of Formosa. On April 6 a 10-day eruption of the volcano Vesuvius began with rocks blown 40,000 feet into the air over Naples. Two days after Vesuvius subsided, San Francisco was knocked down, and 2,600 acres of it were then destroyed by three days of fires. About 3,000 San Franciscans died. Four months later a Chilean quake killed 20,000.
I used to take "Evolution" for granted as a fact but, last year I started doubting it - not completely but enough to realize that Darwin simply wrote about the evolution of SPECIES not the creation of the entire universe. As such, it is a perfectly good postulation but the "slime to man theory" cannot be proven anymore than "young earth creationism" can. The monkey with a typewriter writing Shakespeare theory comes to mind when imagining how slime could become DNA.
The band, "Goldie Lookin Chain," crossed over into 'mainstream' with the "Guns don't kill people, Rappers do" song.
I used to be against the death penalty and then I heard about a case where this murderer in prison for life killed a warden. The murderer figured he already had a life-term and couldn't be punished anymore. The warden was about 30 with a wife and two little kids. That made me change my mind. I say kill them just to make sure they don't kill another innocent person.
I never had allergies before but I started getting them as soon as I moved here to live in a forest. Those expensive anti-allergy nasal sprays can actually cause viral infections if you use them longer than three days. I learned this the hard way. (I notice that the ads for these sprays now include a warning about viral infections.) If your nose is stuffed up from a cold or allergies, use one of those "normal saline" solutions - not the fancy ones; the cheap ones at Wal-Mart work just as well. Even better - go down to the beach and sniff a handful of sea-water up your nose. The ozone released from the crashing surf also kills germs. Eating honey-comb (chew it like gum) made by bees living in your area builds up immunities to the local allergens.
I take both modern medicine and the "alternative" with a pinch of salt. But I'll take the three stents in my heart (that saved my life) anyday over some snake-oil "natural" remedy. The only thing I really believe in is, as Jesus said: "You are not defiled by what you put into your mouth but by what comes out of your mouth." I think it's equally true that we are not healed so much by what we take but what we think and say. We are healed by our faith in truth, goodness and beauty. Emergency surgery works well too and thank God for antibiotics.
Most people are over-medicated. Many pills cause nasty side-effects like upset stomach (or worse) which then have to be treated by other pills for heartburn. Sometimes the disease is less horrible than the side-effects. When I first started working in a hospital pharmacy in the US, Americans were taking an average of 4 pills a day. It is now 11.5 per day.
I once had a boss (the owner of a Kosher restaurant that I managed) who used to say about his mother: "She's so rich and such a damn neurotic Jew that she has another organ removed whenever she gets bored."
While I was cleaning out my "Miscellaneous" file, I found the following notes:
111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987,654,321. (Now be honest - did you know that?)
I always thought that your side-view mirrors should show a corner of the rear of your vehicle. Wrong. I found out that, if you angle the mirrors out as far as they will go, you eliminate the blind spot on your right entirely and almost eliminate it on the left. I found that on some blog that I have forgotten.
I also found out that, because I'm old, blogs have got to be easy on the eyes - the simpler the design the better and I don't like brightly colored text on a black background. Other than that, I look first for the author's politics. I really can't be bothered reading leftist stuff, no matter how "intellectual," because that's all you get from the MSM anyway. Then I look for the blogger's character. I don't care if a person is clever or not as long as they are sincere. I prefer reading blogs of ordinary folks like myself. The big bloggers are okay but they are not the pulse of America. Ordinary folk are.
If you like reading in bed, but don't like holding heavy books, buy a laptop computer stand at Office Depot or Staples. They cost about $40 and are easily assembled. This type of stand is on wheels and can be raised to about 3 feet or so off the floor. You wheel it up to the edge of your bed and swivel it around so that the "desk" portion is over your lap. The "desk" part can be tilted down from the horizontal to hold a book. It's great for very heavy books like atlases, Shakespeare or the Bible.
On the last day of January 1906 an earthquake in Ecuador and Colombia of perhaps 8.8 magnitude on the Richter scale killed about 2,000. Sixteen days later there was a large Caribbean quake, followed five days later by one in the Caucasus, and on March 17 by another that killed 1,228 on the island of Formosa. On April 6 a 10-day eruption of the volcano Vesuvius began with rocks blown 40,000 feet into the air over Naples. Two days after Vesuvius subsided, San Francisco was knocked down, and 2,600 acres of it were then destroyed by three days of fires. About 3,000 San Franciscans died. Four months later a Chilean quake killed 20,000.
I used to take "Evolution" for granted as a fact but, last year I started doubting it - not completely but enough to realize that Darwin simply wrote about the evolution of SPECIES not the creation of the entire universe. As such, it is a perfectly good postulation but the "slime to man theory" cannot be proven anymore than "young earth creationism" can. The monkey with a typewriter writing Shakespeare theory comes to mind when imagining how slime could become DNA.
The band, "Goldie Lookin Chain," crossed over into 'mainstream' with the "Guns don't kill people, Rappers do" song.
I used to be against the death penalty and then I heard about a case where this murderer in prison for life killed a warden. The murderer figured he already had a life-term and couldn't be punished anymore. The warden was about 30 with a wife and two little kids. That made me change my mind. I say kill them just to make sure they don't kill another innocent person.
I never had allergies before but I started getting them as soon as I moved here to live in a forest. Those expensive anti-allergy nasal sprays can actually cause viral infections if you use them longer than three days. I learned this the hard way. (I notice that the ads for these sprays now include a warning about viral infections.) If your nose is stuffed up from a cold or allergies, use one of those "normal saline" solutions - not the fancy ones; the cheap ones at Wal-Mart work just as well. Even better - go down to the beach and sniff a handful of sea-water up your nose. The ozone released from the crashing surf also kills germs. Eating honey-comb (chew it like gum) made by bees living in your area builds up immunities to the local allergens.
I take both modern medicine and the "alternative" with a pinch of salt. But I'll take the three stents in my heart (that saved my life) anyday over some snake-oil "natural" remedy. The only thing I really believe in is, as Jesus said: "You are not defiled by what you put into your mouth but by what comes out of your mouth." I think it's equally true that we are not healed so much by what we take but what we think and say. We are healed by our faith in truth, goodness and beauty. Emergency surgery works well too and thank God for antibiotics.
Most people are over-medicated. Many pills cause nasty side-effects like upset stomach (or worse) which then have to be treated by other pills for heartburn. Sometimes the disease is less horrible than the side-effects. When I first started working in a hospital pharmacy in the US, Americans were taking an average of 4 pills a day. It is now 11.5 per day.
I once had a boss (the owner of a Kosher restaurant that I managed) who used to say about his mother: "She's so rich and such a damn neurotic Jew that she has another organ removed whenever she gets bored."
posted by Joubert at 7:34 AM
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Friday, February 10, 2006
I'm a gambler
No, I don't mean in a casino. My father used to spend all of his money every payday at the horse races. Going hungry and the fights that ensued between him and my mother put me off gambling forever.
Although, his gambling did help once. My dad had champagne tastes and a beer wallet so, when it came time for my mom to go to hospital and give birth to me, he checked her into the most expensive private hospital in Durban. I was born healthy except that I was very reluctant to leave the warmth and safety of my mother's womb and the obstetrician had to rip me out with forceps. That damaged my left ear permanently and getting cauliflower ears from boxing didn't add any beauty.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes - when it came time for my mom and I to be discharged from the hospital, my dad didn't have the money to pay the bill. He was told that he couldn't take my mom and me home until he paid.
He said, "Okay, I'll be back with the money tonight."
And off he went to Greyville race-course and bet his remaining 40 pounds (we had British money in those days) on the favorite, Speybridge, at 4 to 1. Speybridge won and dad had 160 pounds. It cost him 150 pounds to get us out of hospital and he spent the rest on booze to celebrate.
But mostly he lost and we didn't eat or had the electricity cut off or were evicted. He was always running away from debts and I went to fourteen different schools as he kept on skipping out of town to avoid the debt collectors. I once went to 4 schools in two months. So, I don't gamble on horses, dogs, cards or anything like that.
But I do gamble on people. Chas and Andy think I'm too trusting. That's not true. I'm actually very cautious and it can take me years to really trust anyone but I do give people the benefit of the doubt and take a chance every now and then. Sometimes I get burnt. Some times it pays off. I'll tell you a story about two gambles that paid off.
I was the chef in a Kosher restaurant in San Francisco from 1979 to 1981. I also managed the joint and hired and fired. One day this young Fillipino boy came in and asked for a job. He had just arrived in the USA and was desperate for money. He was 18 and his name was George. I gave him food and told him to start cleaning the kitchen. You can never clean a restaurant kitchen too much.
George started whipping around the place like Mickey Mouse in Fantasia cleaning everything. The dishwasher, a white slacker kid whom I suspected of taking drugs, went outside to smoke. George started washing the dishes. He was fast. He was neat and he really cleaned the pots and pans till they shone. When the slacker kid came back from his smoke, I fired him and hired George.
George used to help me in between washing dishes. He chopped onions, peeled garlic and generally made himself helpful. I got another dishwasher and started to train George to cook. He was not that good with my recipes but he was a very conscientious guy who was good at timing stuff. So I trained him as a short-order cook. In 1982, I got tired of being poor and decided to go back into pharmacy and earn some real money. I lost touch with George.
For the next twelve years I worked in the same hospital pharmacy. One day another youngster got hired as a technician. He was also 18 and his name was Jeff. He worked like a horse. I put in a request for him to work with me on my shift which was from 3pm till midnight. Jeff hated his job but he did it and did it well. He was an avid learner and read every book that I lent him. I also turned him onto classical music and I kept urging him to go back to school and get a degree because his brains were obviously being wasted. One day Jeff gave his notice and went to university. I lost touch with him.
Then our hospital merged with another and I was "down-sized." I got a very good "golden handshake" and 6 months of pay with full medical benefits so I decided to open my own restaurant before I got too old. I was already nearly fifty. I started looking for a suitable building to buy. I knew that I did not want to rent a place because I had seen too many restaurants fail either because the landlords kept jacking up the rent or because they did not renew the lease.
I found an old gun shop for sale. It was not very nice. It had heavy metal bars on all the windows and was gloomy inside with awful stained orange carpet and it was filthy because it had been standing empty for five years. I phoned the realtor. He was out of town for two weeks. I left a message for him to call me when he got back. One day I was walking past the gun shop when I noticed that the "For Sale" sign was gone and in its place was a "For Lease" sign. I called the realtor and told him that I had wanted to buy the place while he was out of town.
He said, "Sorry, but the owner has changed her mind. Are you interested in leasing it?"
I said, "No, but I want you to make the owner an offer and see if she's interested." I gave him my name and phone number.
Then he said, "Are you that skinny South African guy who used to manage the kosher restaurant?"
I said, "Yes, but I'm not skinny anymore."
He said, "I'm George. Do you remember me?"
"Of course I do," I answered.
George said, "I will always be grateful to you. You gave me my first job in America when I was desperate for money and was starving. You taught me enough to get a job as a real cook and work my way up."
To cut a long story short, George had worked hard and bought a pizza shop and then he turned that into a pizza chain. He sold his chain for a small fortune and got out of the business because the profits are too low in the food racket and had gone into selling commercial real estate and owned his own agency.
He decided to help me to buy the gun shop. The owner, the widow of the gun shop owner, was asking $380,000 for it. I told her that I would have to put $150,000 into it to turn it into a restaurant and that I could only offer $240,000. She turned my offer down. I started looking for another place. Then one day a few weeks later, George called me and said that he managed to persuade the owner to sell to me because she could not find anyone to lease it to.
It took a year to gut the place and redo it. Meanwhile one of the pharmacists with whom I had worked inherited a million dollars when her father died and asked me if she could come into my business. I told her that we probably would not make any money for years. She said that suited her fine because she needed some tax write-offs. I'll call her Miss Thang.
Well, that was a mistake as Miss Thang treated the restaurant as a place to entertain her friends and gave them all free food. Within a month of opening, we had three rave reviews and were so busy we had to turn people away. One day Miss Thang arrived with a dozen of her friends and started pushing tables together. I had a fit and told her that those tables had been reserved for paying customers. I told her to get out and never come back.
Now I had to find money to pay her back what she had put in. I offered to pay her off over 15 years. She got a lawyer and demanded that I give her the building in lieu of my debt. I asked for some time to find a small business loan. No luck - because I had not been in business long enough to qualify. But I decided to keep trying and hired a consultant to find a loan for me.
Meantime Miss Thang had hired the top corporate lawyers in California and was harassing me daily. I told Chas and Andy that we may have to let her have everything and just go start fresh some place else. It was a difficult time. I would be lionized at work with everyone oohing and aahing over my South African food and saying how wonderful it was that I could do such a creative job and have such fun making money. Little did they know that I would go home after work and worry myself sick about what trick Miss Thang was going to pull next.
Then one day the consultant phoned me and said, "I found you a loan. The banker who is offering you the loan knows you and wants to do it to say thank you for something you did for him many years ago but he does not want you to know who he is until the deal is closed.
I filed all the necessary papers including my business plan but didn't hold out much hope for a loan because I could not bring myself to offer a fake business plan full of crap about "demographic expectations" etc. I just told the banker what I intended to do. The consultant came back to me and asked me if I minded but the banker wanted to rewrite my plan to make me more eligible for the loan. I agreed.
The loan was approved. I paid off Miss Thang and I invited the banker to dinner and got my finest South African wines from the wine cellar. My jaw dropped on the floor when Jeff from the hospital walked. Jeff had gone back to school, as I mentioned, and had found that his real talent lay in economics. When he got his Bachelor's degree, he had decided to take a Masters degree at the London School of Economics and, when he came back to the US, he landed a job as Vice-president of the largest investment back in the USA.
So, sure, some people have taken advantage of me but most of the gambles I've taken on people have paid off not only for them but for me too.
Although, his gambling did help once. My dad had champagne tastes and a beer wallet so, when it came time for my mom to go to hospital and give birth to me, he checked her into the most expensive private hospital in Durban. I was born healthy except that I was very reluctant to leave the warmth and safety of my mother's womb and the obstetrician had to rip me out with forceps. That damaged my left ear permanently and getting cauliflower ears from boxing didn't add any beauty.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes - when it came time for my mom and I to be discharged from the hospital, my dad didn't have the money to pay the bill. He was told that he couldn't take my mom and me home until he paid.
He said, "Okay, I'll be back with the money tonight."
And off he went to Greyville race-course and bet his remaining 40 pounds (we had British money in those days) on the favorite, Speybridge, at 4 to 1. Speybridge won and dad had 160 pounds. It cost him 150 pounds to get us out of hospital and he spent the rest on booze to celebrate.
But mostly he lost and we didn't eat or had the electricity cut off or were evicted. He was always running away from debts and I went to fourteen different schools as he kept on skipping out of town to avoid the debt collectors. I once went to 4 schools in two months. So, I don't gamble on horses, dogs, cards or anything like that.
But I do gamble on people. Chas and Andy think I'm too trusting. That's not true. I'm actually very cautious and it can take me years to really trust anyone but I do give people the benefit of the doubt and take a chance every now and then. Sometimes I get burnt. Some times it pays off. I'll tell you a story about two gambles that paid off.
I was the chef in a Kosher restaurant in San Francisco from 1979 to 1981. I also managed the joint and hired and fired. One day this young Fillipino boy came in and asked for a job. He had just arrived in the USA and was desperate for money. He was 18 and his name was George. I gave him food and told him to start cleaning the kitchen. You can never clean a restaurant kitchen too much.
George started whipping around the place like Mickey Mouse in Fantasia cleaning everything. The dishwasher, a white slacker kid whom I suspected of taking drugs, went outside to smoke. George started washing the dishes. He was fast. He was neat and he really cleaned the pots and pans till they shone. When the slacker kid came back from his smoke, I fired him and hired George.
George used to help me in between washing dishes. He chopped onions, peeled garlic and generally made himself helpful. I got another dishwasher and started to train George to cook. He was not that good with my recipes but he was a very conscientious guy who was good at timing stuff. So I trained him as a short-order cook. In 1982, I got tired of being poor and decided to go back into pharmacy and earn some real money. I lost touch with George.
For the next twelve years I worked in the same hospital pharmacy. One day another youngster got hired as a technician. He was also 18 and his name was Jeff. He worked like a horse. I put in a request for him to work with me on my shift which was from 3pm till midnight. Jeff hated his job but he did it and did it well. He was an avid learner and read every book that I lent him. I also turned him onto classical music and I kept urging him to go back to school and get a degree because his brains were obviously being wasted. One day Jeff gave his notice and went to university. I lost touch with him.
Then our hospital merged with another and I was "down-sized." I got a very good "golden handshake" and 6 months of pay with full medical benefits so I decided to open my own restaurant before I got too old. I was already nearly fifty. I started looking for a suitable building to buy. I knew that I did not want to rent a place because I had seen too many restaurants fail either because the landlords kept jacking up the rent or because they did not renew the lease.
I found an old gun shop for sale. It was not very nice. It had heavy metal bars on all the windows and was gloomy inside with awful stained orange carpet and it was filthy because it had been standing empty for five years. I phoned the realtor. He was out of town for two weeks. I left a message for him to call me when he got back. One day I was walking past the gun shop when I noticed that the "For Sale" sign was gone and in its place was a "For Lease" sign. I called the realtor and told him that I had wanted to buy the place while he was out of town.
He said, "Sorry, but the owner has changed her mind. Are you interested in leasing it?"
I said, "No, but I want you to make the owner an offer and see if she's interested." I gave him my name and phone number.
Then he said, "Are you that skinny South African guy who used to manage the kosher restaurant?"
I said, "Yes, but I'm not skinny anymore."
He said, "I'm George. Do you remember me?"
"Of course I do," I answered.
George said, "I will always be grateful to you. You gave me my first job in America when I was desperate for money and was starving. You taught me enough to get a job as a real cook and work my way up."
To cut a long story short, George had worked hard and bought a pizza shop and then he turned that into a pizza chain. He sold his chain for a small fortune and got out of the business because the profits are too low in the food racket and had gone into selling commercial real estate and owned his own agency.
He decided to help me to buy the gun shop. The owner, the widow of the gun shop owner, was asking $380,000 for it. I told her that I would have to put $150,000 into it to turn it into a restaurant and that I could only offer $240,000. She turned my offer down. I started looking for another place. Then one day a few weeks later, George called me and said that he managed to persuade the owner to sell to me because she could not find anyone to lease it to.
It took a year to gut the place and redo it. Meanwhile one of the pharmacists with whom I had worked inherited a million dollars when her father died and asked me if she could come into my business. I told her that we probably would not make any money for years. She said that suited her fine because she needed some tax write-offs. I'll call her Miss Thang.
Well, that was a mistake as Miss Thang treated the restaurant as a place to entertain her friends and gave them all free food. Within a month of opening, we had three rave reviews and were so busy we had to turn people away. One day Miss Thang arrived with a dozen of her friends and started pushing tables together. I had a fit and told her that those tables had been reserved for paying customers. I told her to get out and never come back.
Now I had to find money to pay her back what she had put in. I offered to pay her off over 15 years. She got a lawyer and demanded that I give her the building in lieu of my debt. I asked for some time to find a small business loan. No luck - because I had not been in business long enough to qualify. But I decided to keep trying and hired a consultant to find a loan for me.
Meantime Miss Thang had hired the top corporate lawyers in California and was harassing me daily. I told Chas and Andy that we may have to let her have everything and just go start fresh some place else. It was a difficult time. I would be lionized at work with everyone oohing and aahing over my South African food and saying how wonderful it was that I could do such a creative job and have such fun making money. Little did they know that I would go home after work and worry myself sick about what trick Miss Thang was going to pull next.
Then one day the consultant phoned me and said, "I found you a loan. The banker who is offering you the loan knows you and wants to do it to say thank you for something you did for him many years ago but he does not want you to know who he is until the deal is closed.
I filed all the necessary papers including my business plan but didn't hold out much hope for a loan because I could not bring myself to offer a fake business plan full of crap about "demographic expectations" etc. I just told the banker what I intended to do. The consultant came back to me and asked me if I minded but the banker wanted to rewrite my plan to make me more eligible for the loan. I agreed.
The loan was approved. I paid off Miss Thang and I invited the banker to dinner and got my finest South African wines from the wine cellar. My jaw dropped on the floor when Jeff from the hospital walked. Jeff had gone back to school, as I mentioned, and had found that his real talent lay in economics. When he got his Bachelor's degree, he had decided to take a Masters degree at the London School of Economics and, when he came back to the US, he landed a job as Vice-president of the largest investment back in the USA.
So, sure, some people have taken advantage of me but most of the gambles I've taken on people have paid off not only for them but for me too.
posted by Joubert at 1:52 PM
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Fred, you were right - that Viet vet is a liar
I told you about the Viet Nam Marine vet who arrived at my RV park the other day:
Yesterday another Viet vet came to live in my RV park. He had been a Marine in Nam and had done five tours there. He told me that, when he returned home, people left dog-shit on his front steps and someone fired a gun through his window.
Fred commented: "I kinda/sorta have to wonder...5 tours?? 5 FULL tours?? 2 was bad enough, 3 left you a bit *touched* in the head, 4 meant you weren't fit for human cohabitation and honestly, I never heard of ANYONE doing 5...Is this guy named Rambo?? Sorry, I just have my doubts..."
When he arrived I welcomed him and told him I'd treat him like royalty because he had served his country. He told me that he had two brain tumors from Agent Orange and was going to have surgery soon. He said he didn't have any money but was getting his pension check in a couple of days. So, I told him he could stay and pay me when it came.
Well today the vet came into the office and told me that he couldn't pay his rent because he had just found out that his bank account was overdrawn.
"Okay?" he said; "and now for the good news - my former landlord said he would send me the money today. All he needs is your bank account number and he'll wire it to you."
I think to myself: "Oh yeah? Did I fall off the turnip truck yesterday or about forty years ago?"
So I said to him: "So, you did five tours in Nam then, huh? A friend of mine says that's unlikely."
Him: "I didn't say five. I said four."
Me: "Excuse me - I may be old but I don't have Alzheimers. You told me five."
I then told him to get his former landlord to phone me and make arrangements to send me the rent.
Meantime, my assistant manager tells me that the vet has been telling everyone that he had been robbed and that is why he had no money.
Anyway, I waited till 5pm, when I close the office, and still no phone call from the vet's former landlord. So, I go over to his motor-home to find out what's happening. The vet starts with the song and dance routine - one story after the other. By now he was contradicting his own stories so much that I didn't believe a word he was saying.
I said: "You know, I told you when you first arrived that I would treat you like royalty because you're a vet but you've told me nothing but lies. You can stay one more night for free but you will have to leave in the morning. You're the same age as me. How come you can't keep your shit together?"
Well, he got all huffy and said, "I don't have to stand here and listen to you tell me what to do."
Me: "No, you really don't have to."
Him: "I think I should leave now."
Me: "Okay, fine but you can stay one more night if you need time to look for another place or find some money for your rent."
Him: "I don't need your charity. I'm leaving."
I said, "Bye."
My buddy, Chas, says I should never have told him that I would treat him like royalty because then he would take advantage of me.
I said to Chas, "But haven't you noticed, whenever anyone thinks I'm a pushover, that they always end up over-playing and showing their hand?"
I'm a firm believer in giving people enough rope to hang themselves.
But most Marines are good people. Read this from Seaspook's blog.
BTW, Fred, where's your blog?
Yesterday another Viet vet came to live in my RV park. He had been a Marine in Nam and had done five tours there. He told me that, when he returned home, people left dog-shit on his front steps and someone fired a gun through his window.
Fred commented: "I kinda/sorta have to wonder...5 tours?? 5 FULL tours?? 2 was bad enough, 3 left you a bit *touched* in the head, 4 meant you weren't fit for human cohabitation and honestly, I never heard of ANYONE doing 5...Is this guy named Rambo?? Sorry, I just have my doubts..."
When he arrived I welcomed him and told him I'd treat him like royalty because he had served his country. He told me that he had two brain tumors from Agent Orange and was going to have surgery soon. He said he didn't have any money but was getting his pension check in a couple of days. So, I told him he could stay and pay me when it came.
Well today the vet came into the office and told me that he couldn't pay his rent because he had just found out that his bank account was overdrawn.
"Okay?" he said; "and now for the good news - my former landlord said he would send me the money today. All he needs is your bank account number and he'll wire it to you."
I think to myself: "Oh yeah? Did I fall off the turnip truck yesterday or about forty years ago?"
So I said to him: "So, you did five tours in Nam then, huh? A friend of mine says that's unlikely."
Him: "I didn't say five. I said four."
Me: "Excuse me - I may be old but I don't have Alzheimers. You told me five."
I then told him to get his former landlord to phone me and make arrangements to send me the rent.
Meantime, my assistant manager tells me that the vet has been telling everyone that he had been robbed and that is why he had no money.
Anyway, I waited till 5pm, when I close the office, and still no phone call from the vet's former landlord. So, I go over to his motor-home to find out what's happening. The vet starts with the song and dance routine - one story after the other. By now he was contradicting his own stories so much that I didn't believe a word he was saying.
I said: "You know, I told you when you first arrived that I would treat you like royalty because you're a vet but you've told me nothing but lies. You can stay one more night for free but you will have to leave in the morning. You're the same age as me. How come you can't keep your shit together?"
Well, he got all huffy and said, "I don't have to stand here and listen to you tell me what to do."
Me: "No, you really don't have to."
Him: "I think I should leave now."
Me: "Okay, fine but you can stay one more night if you need time to look for another place or find some money for your rent."
Him: "I don't need your charity. I'm leaving."
I said, "Bye."
My buddy, Chas, says I should never have told him that I would treat him like royalty because then he would take advantage of me.
I said to Chas, "But haven't you noticed, whenever anyone thinks I'm a pushover, that they always end up over-playing and showing their hand?"
I'm a firm believer in giving people enough rope to hang themselves.
But most Marines are good people. Read this from Seaspook's blog.
BTW, Fred, where's your blog?
posted by Joubert at 7:11 AM
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Thursday, February 09, 2006
The Day After
I was cleaning up my computer files and found this. I wrote it on 9/12 for a forum that I used to post on. I was still living in San Francisco at the time.
The part of San Francisco that I live in is called the Sunset. It starts on the western slopes of the ridge of mountains that runs down the city's spinal cord and descends to the Pacific Ocean to the four-mile long Ocean Beach. That's where I live. Every night the sound of the surf lulls me to sleep and every morning screeching seagulls wake me up.
For three or fours months every summer a heavy layer of fog moves in from the ocean and blankets the area. The mournful sounds of the deep bass foghorn on the Golden Gate Bridge and the tenor horn on the lighthouse (marking a dangerous shoal further out to sea) are carried for miles in the soft blanket of fog.
The Sunset used to be the cheapest neigborhood in SF because no one wanted to live in what is known as the "fog belt." It was built on sand dunes during and after WW11 for the working class and returning soldiers. The houses are small identical two story row-houses which originally sold for $5,000 and now cost $500,000.(Since 2001, they have gone up to $700,000.) Supposedly they inspired the song with the line "ticky-tacky houses."
But everyday in summer between 8 and 9pm when the sun is just about to set, the fog dissolves and we are treated to breath-taking sunsets over the Pacific Ocean. That is the ideal time to take the dogs for a walk along the beach. This is not a southern California beach. It is usually cold and windy and the surf is heavy and dangerous and icy. It becomes very chilly as soon as the sun sets and you can imagine it rising in Japan.
This is where the planes from Japan, China, Hawaii and Alaska begin their descent to the airport 13 miles to the south-east. The planes are still high enough that the noise is not overwhelming but, when I first moved here, they were noticeable. After a while you get used to it and stop noticing - except when they are not there.
Yesterday afternoon while I was glued to the TV watching what was happening in New York, I heard the roar of a plane that I thought was coming in too low. Later I heard that it was the last plane to land in the USA since the attack on the World Trade Towers. It was a plane from Thailand and the roar was because it was being escorted by a squadron of F16s to make sure it did not suddenly crash into the downtown skyscrapers.
Since then the only planes are so high up you can hardly hear them. These are military planes patrolling the skies. The silence is shocking. The last time we had that silence was after the 1989 earthquake when the airport was damaged and closed for days afterwards.
And the people are also subdued. When I first came to the US, I was shocked at how loud and extroverted Americans were. They talked loudly in public and often shouted from one side of the street to another. Girls sometimes screamed in glee and the boys would whoop and holler. Now I miss their exuberance.
After the quake of 89, we were all pulled together as a community and talked to total strangers and helped each other - much as New Yorkers are doing now. But there is no local disaster to bring us together in this city. People are quiet and serious. Many look lost and stunned.
I sit and watch reruns of yesterday's footage of the falling towers. I cannot believe that planes were used as bombs; bombs loaded full of innocent civilians. The video footage is almost unreal, like bad special effects in a disaster movie.
I think the only thing that will bring us out of this shock is revenge. We need to punish those who planned this. There's no need for formalities. Let's just go find them and kill them.
The part of San Francisco that I live in is called the Sunset. It starts on the western slopes of the ridge of mountains that runs down the city's spinal cord and descends to the Pacific Ocean to the four-mile long Ocean Beach. That's where I live. Every night the sound of the surf lulls me to sleep and every morning screeching seagulls wake me up.
For three or fours months every summer a heavy layer of fog moves in from the ocean and blankets the area. The mournful sounds of the deep bass foghorn on the Golden Gate Bridge and the tenor horn on the lighthouse (marking a dangerous shoal further out to sea) are carried for miles in the soft blanket of fog.
The Sunset used to be the cheapest neigborhood in SF because no one wanted to live in what is known as the "fog belt." It was built on sand dunes during and after WW11 for the working class and returning soldiers. The houses are small identical two story row-houses which originally sold for $5,000 and now cost $500,000.(Since 2001, they have gone up to $700,000.) Supposedly they inspired the song with the line "ticky-tacky houses."
But everyday in summer between 8 and 9pm when the sun is just about to set, the fog dissolves and we are treated to breath-taking sunsets over the Pacific Ocean. That is the ideal time to take the dogs for a walk along the beach. This is not a southern California beach. It is usually cold and windy and the surf is heavy and dangerous and icy. It becomes very chilly as soon as the sun sets and you can imagine it rising in Japan.
This is where the planes from Japan, China, Hawaii and Alaska begin their descent to the airport 13 miles to the south-east. The planes are still high enough that the noise is not overwhelming but, when I first moved here, they were noticeable. After a while you get used to it and stop noticing - except when they are not there.
Yesterday afternoon while I was glued to the TV watching what was happening in New York, I heard the roar of a plane that I thought was coming in too low. Later I heard that it was the last plane to land in the USA since the attack on the World Trade Towers. It was a plane from Thailand and the roar was because it was being escorted by a squadron of F16s to make sure it did not suddenly crash into the downtown skyscrapers.
Since then the only planes are so high up you can hardly hear them. These are military planes patrolling the skies. The silence is shocking. The last time we had that silence was after the 1989 earthquake when the airport was damaged and closed for days afterwards.
And the people are also subdued. When I first came to the US, I was shocked at how loud and extroverted Americans were. They talked loudly in public and often shouted from one side of the street to another. Girls sometimes screamed in glee and the boys would whoop and holler. Now I miss their exuberance.
After the quake of 89, we were all pulled together as a community and talked to total strangers and helped each other - much as New Yorkers are doing now. But there is no local disaster to bring us together in this city. People are quiet and serious. Many look lost and stunned.
I sit and watch reruns of yesterday's footage of the falling towers. I cannot believe that planes were used as bombs; bombs loaded full of innocent civilians. The video footage is almost unreal, like bad special effects in a disaster movie.
I think the only thing that will bring us out of this shock is revenge. We need to punish those who planned this. There's no need for formalities. Let's just go find them and kill them.
posted by Joubert at 3:06 PM
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Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Saudi prince owns Fox stock
I found this on Chas' Compilation.
From Middle East Online:
Al-Walid also criticised US media which he described as "in general ... pro-Israel." But he also accused Arabs of not being pro-active in fighting the allegedly slanted media.
He said that during last month's street protests in France, the US television network Fox -- owned by Rupert Murdoch's News Corporation in which Al-Walid himself has shares -- ran a banner saying: "Muslim riots."
"I picked up the phone and called Murdoch... (and told him) these are not Muslim riots, these are riots out of poverty," he said. "Within 30 minutes, the title was changed from Muslim riots to civil riots."
From FrontPageMag.com:
With surprisingly little media attention, Saudi Arabia has bought a stake in the company that owns what has been, until now, arguably its most visible and influential critic: the Fox News Network. Will this be the end of Fox’s “fair and balanced” coverage of the immense Saudi role in promoting Islamofascist terror? Or can American viewers rest assured that the royal Saudi buyer, Prince Al-Waleed bin Talal, has nothing more nefarious in mind than increasing his already vast fortune?
The answer to this incalculably important question may lie in understanding who this prince is, and the nature of his deal with Rupert Murdoch, the principal owner of Fox’s parent, the News Corporation.
Al-Waleed is said be the world’s fifth richest man and now NewsCorp’s fourth largest voting shareholder (behind the Murdoch family, Liberty Media and fund giant Fidelity Management & Research Co.)
Of course, the employees at Fox are mostly a lot less liberal than the Networks but Rupert Murdoch (who owns most of the Fox stock) is another story.
Murdoch was born in Australia. He inherited a paper, "The Adelaide News," from his father and parlayed that into the media empire he now owns in Australia, the UK and the USA. (His papers in England are mostly rags for the hoi-polloi.) Murdoch used to be a dedicated socialist. He only became a US citizen in order to be able to own a TV business. He is an opportunist and has his own inscrutable agenda. He is definitely NOT an American patriot. Here is his biography.
This article in the leftist British "Guardian" about him is interesting: The socialist inside Rupert: From The Simpsons to his assault on high taxes, Murdoch's always been the little guy's friend.
Yeah right, just like Michael Moore cares about union workers. Like all supposed do-gooders, Murdoch and Moore are in it for themselves.
From Middle East Online:
Al-Walid also criticised US media which he described as "in general ... pro-Israel." But he also accused Arabs of not being pro-active in fighting the allegedly slanted media.
He said that during last month's street protests in France, the US television network Fox -- owned by Rupert Murdoch's News Corporation in which Al-Walid himself has shares -- ran a banner saying: "Muslim riots."
"I picked up the phone and called Murdoch... (and told him) these are not Muslim riots, these are riots out of poverty," he said. "Within 30 minutes, the title was changed from Muslim riots to civil riots."
From FrontPageMag.com:
With surprisingly little media attention, Saudi Arabia has bought a stake in the company that owns what has been, until now, arguably its most visible and influential critic: the Fox News Network. Will this be the end of Fox’s “fair and balanced” coverage of the immense Saudi role in promoting Islamofascist terror? Or can American viewers rest assured that the royal Saudi buyer, Prince Al-Waleed bin Talal, has nothing more nefarious in mind than increasing his already vast fortune?
The answer to this incalculably important question may lie in understanding who this prince is, and the nature of his deal with Rupert Murdoch, the principal owner of Fox’s parent, the News Corporation.
Al-Waleed is said be the world’s fifth richest man and now NewsCorp’s fourth largest voting shareholder (behind the Murdoch family, Liberty Media and fund giant Fidelity Management & Research Co.)
Of course, the employees at Fox are mostly a lot less liberal than the Networks but Rupert Murdoch (who owns most of the Fox stock) is another story.
Murdoch was born in Australia. He inherited a paper, "The Adelaide News," from his father and parlayed that into the media empire he now owns in Australia, the UK and the USA. (His papers in England are mostly rags for the hoi-polloi.) Murdoch used to be a dedicated socialist. He only became a US citizen in order to be able to own a TV business. He is an opportunist and has his own inscrutable agenda. He is definitely NOT an American patriot. Here is his biography.
This article in the leftist British "Guardian" about him is interesting: The socialist inside Rupert: From The Simpsons to his assault on high taxes, Murdoch's always been the little guy's friend.
Yeah right, just like Michael Moore cares about union workers. Like all supposed do-gooders, Murdoch and Moore are in it for themselves.
posted by Joubert at 4:15 PM
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Yesterday another Viet vet came to live in my RV park
I don't comment too much on current events. (Okay, the toon extravaganza got me a bit "exercized.") One reason I don't is because everyone else does it already. Another reason is that I always seem to be a bit behind the times. You may have noticed that I always seem to be a day behind the other bloggers. I sometimes don't finish reading the Sunday paper until the Saturday before the next one comes out. (Well, the crosswords take a long time to do.)
But, the main reason that I don't usually get "exercized" by current events is that I'm more interested in waiting to see the whole river flow by rather than analyzing every little drop of water that passes under the bridge.
That's why I despise the armchair generals who are constantly whining and moaning about how bad things are in Iraq. War is messy and unpredictable. It's not a game of chess where every move has a logical outcome. If they'd been around in WWll, they would have urged Churchill to surrender during the Blitz. By the time of the Viet Nam war, journalism had been taken over by peaceniks and a lot of the blame for that mess can be laid at their doors.
For instance: The Tet Offensive of late 1968 and early 1969 was a major defeat for North Vietnam. By 1972, South Vietnam and the U.S. had, in fact, won the war and had crushed both Viet Cong and North Vietnamese forces to the point where they (the VC and NV) had to accept a peace treaty in which they abandoned any goal or claim of conquering South Vietnam.
So why did South Vietnam fail? Because the journalists were writing nothing but pessimistic "quagmire" stories about Nam and they succeeded in poisoning our minds with their negativity. Then in 1975 after Watergate, the Democrat-controlled Congress passed strict resolutions cutting off every form of aid to South Vietnam and making clear that the U.S. would not lift a finger to defend it. That's why we lost Viet Nam.
Yesterday another Viet vet came to live in my RV park. He had been a Marine in Nam and had done five tours there. He told me that, when he returned home, people left dog-shit on his front steps and someone fired a gun through his window. Wasn't the writing on the wall back then? Wasn't it obvious that the peaceniks had taken over the Democrats 30 years ago? It seems that some people are only waking up to that fact now.
If we wish to win the war on terror, we must not allow the Democrats to ever regain control of Congress and definitely never let one get into the White House. Just look at the way the left is freaking about wire-tapping terrorists. Americans don't spy on each other unless you're in cahoots with our enemies. We're entitled to know what's going on in our country. Just exactly what is that they are hiding that they are ashamed of us finding out?
To me the biggest problem is that the American leftists will not be honest and confess that they are Marxists. It's impossible to argue with liars, especially liars who believe, like Lenin, that the end justifies the means. Marxism was built on lies. Marx was the Michael Moore of his time. He fudged facts to prove his points. Communism is THE big lie and it is just as dangerous to America today as it was in the Cold War. Perhaps we need another McCarthy.
The problem with conservatism/capitalism is that, unlike socialism/Marxism, it is not an "-ism" or an ideology and therefore cannot really be defended. In fact it is unconservative to be activist and plain common sense is so boring that it usually evokes groans because we are only stating the obvious. Conservatives cannot really prosetylize or be shrewd like the left because we have nothing to sell, no hidden agenda and no desire to control others.
Don't you see that the leftists are always right? They have the high moral ground, are better educated, think orginal and profound thoughts and are far more sophisticated than us mere ordinary rednecks who don't have any original ideas. We're the unwashed masses of America. We are unable to think for ourselves so the snobby leftie elitists have to tell us what to think.
Have you noticed that leftists get really mad when conservatives take cautious and circumpsect positions? It discombobulates their minds because they are radical extremists and think that conservatives have to always hold extreme opposite opinions to them. They do not understand compromise or moderation or modesty. Their lack of humility and is a direct result of being atheistic. They believe that mankind rules the world.
If you do not have faith in a Generator/Operator/Director, then of course what's to stop you from thinking that you're in control of everything? How can an atheist be modest or humble? Without humility and gratitude, life is hell. That's why commies hate people and think the world stinks. To them life is hell. To those of us who see God in His creation, it is a small slice of heaven. How can anyone not be grateful and filled with joy?
PS: Through blogging, I'm finding that others enjoy my writing. Do you think I should apply to the National Endowment for the Arts for a grant so I can write a novel about bleeding hemorrhoids or maybe even get a grant to put a crucifix in a bottle of piss or make a picture of the Virgin Mary out of cow-shit? Come to think of it - that's already been done. But it sure would be nice to get paid to be a pretentious lazy bum. No, on second thoughts - that would take a lot of effort on my part.
But, the main reason that I don't usually get "exercized" by current events is that I'm more interested in waiting to see the whole river flow by rather than analyzing every little drop of water that passes under the bridge.
That's why I despise the armchair generals who are constantly whining and moaning about how bad things are in Iraq. War is messy and unpredictable. It's not a game of chess where every move has a logical outcome. If they'd been around in WWll, they would have urged Churchill to surrender during the Blitz. By the time of the Viet Nam war, journalism had been taken over by peaceniks and a lot of the blame for that mess can be laid at their doors.
For instance: The Tet Offensive of late 1968 and early 1969 was a major defeat for North Vietnam. By 1972, South Vietnam and the U.S. had, in fact, won the war and had crushed both Viet Cong and North Vietnamese forces to the point where they (the VC and NV) had to accept a peace treaty in which they abandoned any goal or claim of conquering South Vietnam.
So why did South Vietnam fail? Because the journalists were writing nothing but pessimistic "quagmire" stories about Nam and they succeeded in poisoning our minds with their negativity. Then in 1975 after Watergate, the Democrat-controlled Congress passed strict resolutions cutting off every form of aid to South Vietnam and making clear that the U.S. would not lift a finger to defend it. That's why we lost Viet Nam.
Yesterday another Viet vet came to live in my RV park. He had been a Marine in Nam and had done five tours there. He told me that, when he returned home, people left dog-shit on his front steps and someone fired a gun through his window. Wasn't the writing on the wall back then? Wasn't it obvious that the peaceniks had taken over the Democrats 30 years ago? It seems that some people are only waking up to that fact now.
If we wish to win the war on terror, we must not allow the Democrats to ever regain control of Congress and definitely never let one get into the White House. Just look at the way the left is freaking about wire-tapping terrorists. Americans don't spy on each other unless you're in cahoots with our enemies. We're entitled to know what's going on in our country. Just exactly what is that they are hiding that they are ashamed of us finding out?
To me the biggest problem is that the American leftists will not be honest and confess that they are Marxists. It's impossible to argue with liars, especially liars who believe, like Lenin, that the end justifies the means. Marxism was built on lies. Marx was the Michael Moore of his time. He fudged facts to prove his points. Communism is THE big lie and it is just as dangerous to America today as it was in the Cold War. Perhaps we need another McCarthy.
The problem with conservatism/capitalism is that, unlike socialism/Marxism, it is not an "-ism" or an ideology and therefore cannot really be defended. In fact it is unconservative to be activist and plain common sense is so boring that it usually evokes groans because we are only stating the obvious. Conservatives cannot really prosetylize or be shrewd like the left because we have nothing to sell, no hidden agenda and no desire to control others.
Don't you see that the leftists are always right? They have the high moral ground, are better educated, think orginal and profound thoughts and are far more sophisticated than us mere ordinary rednecks who don't have any original ideas. We're the unwashed masses of America. We are unable to think for ourselves so the snobby leftie elitists have to tell us what to think.
Have you noticed that leftists get really mad when conservatives take cautious and circumpsect positions? It discombobulates their minds because they are radical extremists and think that conservatives have to always hold extreme opposite opinions to them. They do not understand compromise or moderation or modesty. Their lack of humility and is a direct result of being atheistic. They believe that mankind rules the world.
If you do not have faith in a Generator/Operator/Director, then of course what's to stop you from thinking that you're in control of everything? How can an atheist be modest or humble? Without humility and gratitude, life is hell. That's why commies hate people and think the world stinks. To them life is hell. To those of us who see God in His creation, it is a small slice of heaven. How can anyone not be grateful and filled with joy?
PS: Through blogging, I'm finding that others enjoy my writing. Do you think I should apply to the National Endowment for the Arts for a grant so I can write a novel about bleeding hemorrhoids or maybe even get a grant to put a crucifix in a bottle of piss or make a picture of the Virgin Mary out of cow-shit? Come to think of it - that's already been done. But it sure would be nice to get paid to be a pretentious lazy bum. No, on second thoughts - that would take a lot of effort on my part.
posted by Joubert at 11:39 AM
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MUHAMMAD CARTOONS BLOGBURST UNDER ATTACK
Last week Michelle Malkin started the THE MUHAMMAD CARTOONS BLOGBURST.
Yesterday day she reported: THE MUHAMMAD CARTOONS BLOGBURST UNDER ATTACK
The Toronto Star published this article: Hate behind right-wing blogburst.
While Muslim religious extremists are rioting in the streets of Beirut, Gaza City and Kabul, Scandinavian embassies are being torched and Jordanians are deprived of their Danish feta over cartoons that were never actually published in any legitimate newspaper, the right-wing blogosphere has been staging its own "blogburst": the act of reproducing the offending depictions of the Prophet Muhammad.
It's a "simultaneous, co-ordinated posting by a large group of webmasters and bloggers on a given topic," says Israpundit who, along with Michelle Malkin, who is like Ann Coulter but not as funny and not so skinny, are leading the cartoon crusade.
I'm proud to say that I am one of those "right-wing" bloggers who added their names to the Blogburst.
Yesterday day she reported: THE MUHAMMAD CARTOONS BLOGBURST UNDER ATTACK
The Toronto Star published this article: Hate behind right-wing blogburst.
While Muslim religious extremists are rioting in the streets of Beirut, Gaza City and Kabul, Scandinavian embassies are being torched and Jordanians are deprived of their Danish feta over cartoons that were never actually published in any legitimate newspaper, the right-wing blogosphere has been staging its own "blogburst": the act of reproducing the offending depictions of the Prophet Muhammad.
It's a "simultaneous, co-ordinated posting by a large group of webmasters and bloggers on a given topic," says Israpundit who, along with Michelle Malkin, who is like Ann Coulter but not as funny and not so skinny, are leading the cartoon crusade.
I'm proud to say that I am one of those "right-wing" bloggers who added their names to the Blogburst.
posted by Joubert at 7:53 AM
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Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Frenchisms
I found these on Sandy's Spot.
"France has neither winter nor summer nor morals. Apart from these drawbacks it is a fine country. France has usually been governed by prostitutes." -- Mark Twain.
"I would rather have a German division in front of me than a French one behind me." General George S. Patton.
"Going to war without France is like going deer hunting without your accordion." Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld. [Ed. I love this one!]
"As far as I'm concerned, war always means failure" Jacques Chirac, President of France "As far as France is concerned, you're right" Rush Limbaugh,
"The only time France wants us to go to war is when the German Army is sitting in Paris sipping coffee." Regis Philbin...
"The French are a smallish, monkey-looking bunch and not dressed any better, on average, than the citizens of Baltimore. True, you can sit outside in Paris and drink little cups of coffee, but why this is more stylish than sitting inside and drinking large glasses of whisky I don't know." P.J O'Rourke (1989).
"You know, the French remind me a little bit of an aging actress of the 1940s who was still trying to dine out on her looks but doesn't have the face for it." John McCain, U.S. Senator from Arizona.
"I don't know why people are surprised that France won't help us get Saddam out of Iraq. After all, France wouldn't help us get Hitler out of France either" Jay Leno.
"The last time the French asked for 'more proof' it came marching into Paris under a German flag." David Letterman
"War without France would be like .. uh .. World War II." [Ed. Sandy did not give the author of this quote but it's good.]
"What do you expect from a culture and a nation that exerted more of its national will fighting against Disney World and Big Macs than the Nazis?" Dennis Miller.
"It is important to remember that the French have always been there when they needed us." Alan Kent
"They've taken their own precautions against al-Qa'ida. To prepare for an attack, each Frenchman is urged to keep duct tape, a white flag, and a three-day supply of mistresses in the house." Argus Hamilton
"Somebody was telling me about the French Army rifle that was being advertised on eBay the other day -- the description was, 'Never shot. Dropped once.'" Rep. Roy Blunt (MO)
"France has neither winter nor summer nor morals. Apart from these drawbacks it is a fine country. France has usually been governed by prostitutes." -- Mark Twain.
"I would rather have a German division in front of me than a French one behind me." General George S. Patton.
"Going to war without France is like going deer hunting without your accordion." Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld. [Ed. I love this one!]
"As far as I'm concerned, war always means failure" Jacques Chirac, President of France "As far as France is concerned, you're right" Rush Limbaugh,
"The only time France wants us to go to war is when the German Army is sitting in Paris sipping coffee." Regis Philbin...
"The French are a smallish, monkey-looking bunch and not dressed any better, on average, than the citizens of Baltimore. True, you can sit outside in Paris and drink little cups of coffee, but why this is more stylish than sitting inside and drinking large glasses of whisky I don't know." P.J O'Rourke (1989).
"You know, the French remind me a little bit of an aging actress of the 1940s who was still trying to dine out on her looks but doesn't have the face for it." John McCain, U.S. Senator from Arizona.
"I don't know why people are surprised that France won't help us get Saddam out of Iraq. After all, France wouldn't help us get Hitler out of France either" Jay Leno.
"The last time the French asked for 'more proof' it came marching into Paris under a German flag." David Letterman
"War without France would be like .. uh .. World War II." [Ed. Sandy did not give the author of this quote but it's good.]
"What do you expect from a culture and a nation that exerted more of its national will fighting against Disney World and Big Macs than the Nazis?" Dennis Miller.
"It is important to remember that the French have always been there when they needed us." Alan Kent
"They've taken their own precautions against al-Qa'ida. To prepare for an attack, each Frenchman is urged to keep duct tape, a white flag, and a three-day supply of mistresses in the house." Argus Hamilton
"Somebody was telling me about the French Army rifle that was being advertised on eBay the other day -- the description was, 'Never shot. Dropped once.'" Rep. Roy Blunt (MO)
posted by Joubert at 8:10 PM
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Anti-Jew cartoons from the Arab World
Anti-Jew cartoons from the Arab World. [HT: Patty the Redneck Granny.]
[HT: Chas' Compilation for the cartoon below. Says it all doesn't it?
[HT: Chas' Compilation for the cartoon below. Says it all doesn't it?
posted by Joubert at 1:30 PM
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Muhammad cartoons barred in South Africa
One of the things which has always set South Africa apart from the rest of Africa is freedom of the press. Freedom of the press was fought for and won by the first English-language newspapers in South Africa started by the British "1820 Settlers."
On Friday a Muslim group, Jamiatul Ulama of Transvaal (a council of Muslim theologians) obtained an interim interdict barring Sunday newspapers from reprinting the cartoons.
There are about a half a million Muslims in South Africa made up of East Indian Muslims (who were brought to South Africa in the 1880s by the British) and Cape Malays (the descendants of slaves imported by the Dutch from Sumatra in the 1700s.)
The part of South Africa where I was born and raised, Natal-kwaZulu, has a population of over a million East Indians. About three-quarters are Hindus and a quarter are Muslims. Most of the Indian Muslims that I knew were pretty much "Friday night Muslims," that is they were not fanatically religious. They were more interested in business and are among the most successful entrepreneurs in South Africa.
The Cape Malays are another story. They are much more fanatical. So, it's comes as a surprise that the interdict was brought by East Indian Muslims in Johannesberg. Mind you, it was a council of Muslim theologians - a bunch of interfering busy-body nosy-parking creepy clerics.
South Africa's largest newspaper, the Sunday Times, said that they "opposed the urgent interdict on the grounds that it would not be held to ransom by pressure groups."
SOUTH AFRICA: Newspapers barred from publishing Muhammad cartoons.
On Friday, before The Sunday Times was barred from publishing the cartoons, another newspaper, The Mail and Guardian, published one of the cartoons on its international news page to illustrate a story about last week's protests.
A South African editor has received threats after her paper reprinted one of the cartoons that have angered Muslim groups internationally. Ferial Haffajee, editor of the Mail and Guardian said she had received abusive letters and text messages.
Now, the interesting thing is that Ms Haffajee is a Muslim. "It displays a lack of tolerance that is nerve-wracking," she said. Below is a picture of the beautiful and brave Ms Haffajee.
South African editor threatened over cartoon.
[HT: Michelle Malkin.]
On Friday a Muslim group, Jamiatul Ulama of Transvaal (a council of Muslim theologians) obtained an interim interdict barring Sunday newspapers from reprinting the cartoons.
There are about a half a million Muslims in South Africa made up of East Indian Muslims (who were brought to South Africa in the 1880s by the British) and Cape Malays (the descendants of slaves imported by the Dutch from Sumatra in the 1700s.)
The part of South Africa where I was born and raised, Natal-kwaZulu, has a population of over a million East Indians. About three-quarters are Hindus and a quarter are Muslims. Most of the Indian Muslims that I knew were pretty much "Friday night Muslims," that is they were not fanatically religious. They were more interested in business and are among the most successful entrepreneurs in South Africa.
The Cape Malays are another story. They are much more fanatical. So, it's comes as a surprise that the interdict was brought by East Indian Muslims in Johannesberg. Mind you, it was a council of Muslim theologians - a bunch of interfering busy-body nosy-parking creepy clerics.
South Africa's largest newspaper, the Sunday Times, said that they "opposed the urgent interdict on the grounds that it would not be held to ransom by pressure groups."
SOUTH AFRICA: Newspapers barred from publishing Muhammad cartoons.
On Friday, before The Sunday Times was barred from publishing the cartoons, another newspaper, The Mail and Guardian, published one of the cartoons on its international news page to illustrate a story about last week's protests.
A South African editor has received threats after her paper reprinted one of the cartoons that have angered Muslim groups internationally. Ferial Haffajee, editor of the Mail and Guardian said she had received abusive letters and text messages.
Now, the interesting thing is that Ms Haffajee is a Muslim. "It displays a lack of tolerance that is nerve-wracking," she said. Below is a picture of the beautiful and brave Ms Haffajee.
South African editor threatened over cartoon.
[HT: Michelle Malkin.]
posted by Joubert at 12:20 PM
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Monday, February 06, 2006
Interesting picture
Here's a great pic from Tammy Bruce.
He's giving the sign of "coercion" with his left hand. These hand signs are taught in survival school to be used by POW's as a method of posing messages back to our intelligence services who may view the photo or video.
He's giving the sign of "coercion" with his left hand. These hand signs are taught in survival school to be used by POW's as a method of posing messages back to our intelligence services who may view the photo or video.
posted by Joubert at 12:10 PM
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Sunday, February 05, 2006
Is Miss Moonbeam toying with me?
Miss Peace Moonbeam left a comment on my post about my not having enough time to comment on everyone's blog. She said:
"Oh, so that's how it is. First you ask me to marry you and then, just because it comes out that I'm a Dominionist Christian taking part in a movement to kill all gays, you invent a reason not to communicate with me.
Thats okay, This only makes me stronger."
Miss Moonbeam, I don't think you're being fair. You're taking advantage of my smitten state. I think you are too used to being the object of unrequited love and like dangling me on a string for the fun of it. And this latest escapade of yours with the despicable Senator "Jed" has driven a stake into my already broken and bleeding heart.
How many times have I said that you can come and live with me in my trailer in the boonies? God knows, it needs a woman's touch - well maybe if you could just dust a bit, wash last year's dishes and clean the cobwebs off the windows. You don't have to do laundry coz we wear the same clothes till they fall off and then we chuck 'em out.
You can even share my buddies, Chas and Andy, if I'm too old for you since they're 20 years younger and a lot sprier (wink.) You can even play with our Mossberg 500 12 gauge pump action shotgun. In fact you can play with all of our toys if you want.
I know that three batchelors don't keep house real good but you'll always have fresh-killed racoon, possum and porcupine and our moonshine is the best in the county. And even my sister didn't complain about "a nasty smell in the house" after she'd been here for a few days.
You know I will always have a flame in my heart for you so please don't give up on me.
"Oh, so that's how it is. First you ask me to marry you and then, just because it comes out that I'm a Dominionist Christian taking part in a movement to kill all gays, you invent a reason not to communicate with me.
Thats okay, This only makes me stronger."
Miss Moonbeam, I don't think you're being fair. You're taking advantage of my smitten state. I think you are too used to being the object of unrequited love and like dangling me on a string for the fun of it. And this latest escapade of yours with the despicable Senator "Jed" has driven a stake into my already broken and bleeding heart.
How many times have I said that you can come and live with me in my trailer in the boonies? God knows, it needs a woman's touch - well maybe if you could just dust a bit, wash last year's dishes and clean the cobwebs off the windows. You don't have to do laundry coz we wear the same clothes till they fall off and then we chuck 'em out.
You can even share my buddies, Chas and Andy, if I'm too old for you since they're 20 years younger and a lot sprier (wink.) You can even play with our Mossberg 500 12 gauge pump action shotgun. In fact you can play with all of our toys if you want.
I know that three batchelors don't keep house real good but you'll always have fresh-killed racoon, possum and porcupine and our moonshine is the best in the county. And even my sister didn't complain about "a nasty smell in the house" after she'd been here for a few days.
You know I will always have a flame in my heart for you so please don't give up on me.
posted by Joubert at 2:15 PM
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Sunday pics and poem
This a typically bleak Hardy poem but bleakness suits the subject matter - the suspicion that one's love has been betrayed.
Neutral Tones
by Thomas Hardy (1840–1928).
from Wessex Poems and Other Verses, 1898.
We stood by a pond that winter day,
And the sun was white, as though chidden of God,
And a few leaves lay on the starving sod,
—They had fallen from an ash, and were gray.
Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove
Over tedious riddles solved years ago;
And some words played between us to and fro—
On which lost the more by our love.
The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing
Alive enough to have strength to die;
And a grin of bitterness swept thereby
Like an ominous bird a-wing….
Since then, keen lessons that love deceives,
And wrings with wrong, have shaped to me
Your face, and the God-curst sun, and a tree,
And a pond edged with grayish leaves.
The state plant of Oregon is the mahonia, known commonly as "Oregon grape." You can see from the purple berries why it was called a "grape." The berries are edible and make good jelly. The yellow flowers are one of the first flowers to bloom in spring. There are always a few red leaves even in the middle of summer.
The Governor's Mansion in Salem is Mahonia Hall, a half-timbered Tudor house.
Neutral Tones
by Thomas Hardy (1840–1928).
from Wessex Poems and Other Verses, 1898.
We stood by a pond that winter day,
And the sun was white, as though chidden of God,
And a few leaves lay on the starving sod,
—They had fallen from an ash, and were gray.
Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove
Over tedious riddles solved years ago;
And some words played between us to and fro—
On which lost the more by our love.
The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing
Alive enough to have strength to die;
And a grin of bitterness swept thereby
Like an ominous bird a-wing….
Since then, keen lessons that love deceives,
And wrings with wrong, have shaped to me
Your face, and the God-curst sun, and a tree,
And a pond edged with grayish leaves.
The state plant of Oregon is the mahonia, known commonly as "Oregon grape." You can see from the purple berries why it was called a "grape." The berries are edible and make good jelly. The yellow flowers are one of the first flowers to bloom in spring. There are always a few red leaves even in the middle of summer.
The Governor's Mansion in Salem is Mahonia Hall, a half-timbered Tudor house.
posted by Joubert at 6:07 AM
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From Fred Thompson's blog, Fred08 on November 26th, 2007:
More Praise for Fred’s Tax Relief Plan - Patrick Joubert Conlon at Born Again Redneck called the plan, “music to a businessman’s ears.”
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C.D. Jewell, author of Liberalstein, says about Born Again Redneck:
"This blog interested me first because of the title. But the quality of Patrick Joubert Conlon's writing has kept me coming back. His style is not presumptuous or pompous or condescending; it's plain and simple. Good old American English. Which is funny because Mr. Conlon was born and lived in South Africa for his first twenty one years and after that spent eight years in England before finding his home here in the U. S. His blog provides a rare outsider/insider perspective on the U. S. of A. He's been linked to by CNN on a couple of occasions and one of his posts was cited by the official Fred08 website. He does a lot of politics but also some lighter fare as well. He frequently posts spectacular photos taken on his Oregon farm."
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The AllianceGlenn Reynolds Says:
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"If I had to chose between having Born Again Redneck as a neighbor or a vegetarian hippie peacenik, I'd pick the gun-totin' Redneck anyday even if he is a bit queer."
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