...or go on a shooting spree. Take your pick.
Sunday, I had a date. Nothing much, just meeting an old girlfriend for coffee and desert, to catch up on things and maybe spend a few hours doing something other than playing Empire Earth (yes, I still play that game. It's still fucking awesome). Earlier in the week I had been nearly done in by an (I assume) illegal alien in a Ford who apparently hasn't learned that Rojo significa detener, pendejo! , who nearly snuffed Your's Truly, but only managed to cause me to fall and sprain my ankle badly. We'll be seeing an orthopaedist this week (like I can afford that?) to find out if I'm going to be crippled for life.
Anywhoo, the radiologist who took my x-rays turned out to be an old girlfriend of mine, Debbie (not her real name). Debbie and I were an item for about....oh, a whole two months..back in the day. The reasons why it ended:
1. Debbie was a drug addict. A functioning drug addict. Who required a steady supply of manufactured drama in order to justify every trip to the medicine cabinet so as to avoid the shame of realizing that she was an addict. As far as she was concerned, if we'd argued about whether the sky was blue or not, this was just enough conflict to justify the eternal My-Life-Sucks-I-need-to-forget- about-it-where's-my-percocet? cycle. Naturally, she would usually start that argument for no reason that I could ever discern, and then tell me to get lost, apparently so I that wouldn't see her taking drugs.
2. I'm not exactly certain that I was a prince among men in those days, either. I think I was still drinking, though not as much as I had been previously -- I may have begun sobering up by that time -- and I'm sure that emotionally I wasn't exactly at my best. I remember being wary of Debbie, and not really trusting her as far as I could throw her. I was pretty much convinced that whatever happened in that relationship, she would almost definitely break my heart (story of my life), so I broke hers, pre-emptively.
But hey, the sex was awesome. And Debbie was a terrific cook. She could turn a dead snake, a thorn bush, and a desert boot into a gourmet meal. But, I digress...
So, there we are, Sunday night, tiramizu and coffee. Debbie looks better than I ever remember her looking. She looks healthy. She was always very pretty, but often sick. She's put on some weight, yes, but then again, she is 45 now (I think. I never really did know how old she was to begin with). She apparently cannot wait to hear my life story, which freaks me the fuck out a little bit. She's become a little intense (as opposed to when she was supremely intense, and not always in a good way), I think you'd call it enthusiasm rather than the manic energy that she used to have, and she smiles a whole lot more. Back then, Debbie only smiled if genuinely amused, and rarely emitted more than a stunted chuckle. Now, you can't stop her from doing both.
It is both a pleasant change, and an indication that something is wrong with this woman. No one who isn't taking something is this happy. Is she still high? It's unnatural. Then again, I'm a cynic and a compulsive worrier, and probably reading far too much into this whole thing.
She's totally immersed in my words, and truth to tell, I'm not even sure what the fuck I'm talking about half the time. It's small talk, mostly, until she asks direct and pointed questions. Because I'm an asshole, she gets direct and pointed answers. She maintains eye contract the entire time, interrupting only to ask a polite question or inject an insight or two. I'm not telling her everything, because that's a sure-fire way to blow any chance of getting laid. That's on page one of the Manual, you see. Have to hold the worst of the bad stuff back, dammit, while still being relatively truthful. Not that I really have anything to hide, anymore.
But there's something...unusual...going on here. I've seen that look, experienced this all-too-cheerful ebullience before...where was it...? My radar is on. If I quickly turn the subject from me to her, I'm sure she'll say something that'll give me a clue. Why is this person so completely different from the one I used to know?
And just as sure as your Muslim next-door neighbor eventually being implicated in a bomb plot, I heard those words that I knew must enter the conversation at some point, and then I knew why Debbie wasn't Debbie anymore.
"Well, first I want you to know that I have accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior...." Where's the fucking door? I'm about to get killed by an avalanche of bullshit and I need to flee right fucking now.
But no. I would like to think that I've mellowed a little bit in my old age, and have finally learned not to judge too quickly, but after enduring two solid hours of Jesus-this-and-Jesus-that, I've come to the conclusion that first-impressions, no matter how fleeting or facile, are probably still the best arbiter of When to Stay and When to Go.
It turns out that I knew the particulars of her story before she even told them; after we parted ways, Debbie took up with a someone we both knew...from a bar we used to frequent...who's only saving graces were that he was an Adonis...and a small-time drug dealer. Otherwise, he was a loser with the intelligence of an ox, and he probably smelled like one, too. They dated for a bit, and then married, with predictable results. When he was finally arrested, and she was being looked at by the cops as an accessory to his stupidity, she'd finally come to that rock-bottom moment that all addicts must have.
You can't avoid that rock-bottom moment. It's set out at the end of your path for you the moment you begin your descent into stupidity. The lucky ones survive the rock-bottom moment and the unfortunate ones don't. The really lucky ones are those around the moron who happen to avoid being taken down with them.
The Church 'saved' her. Now, I've known quite a few lowlifes in my time, and it never ceases to amaze me how many of them have found their way into some religious douchebaggery as a means of salvaging their lives. I'm of two minds on this phenomenon; the first is that finding Jesus is easier than a 12-step program, and cheaper than a psychiatrist, and also requires the least amount of thought or effort. All you need to do is believe, in effect, surrendering your ability to think and learn for the comfort (possibly false comfort) that Life is something which is outside of your ability to control; rather than continue to fight, rationally, for mastery of your own out-of-your-hands-anyway Life, why not just give up now, and put your trust in something Invisible and All-powerful that loves you so much that He/She/It apparently was not even willing to make any effort whatsoever to keep you from smoking crack, drinking yourself into oblivion, or attempting to kill yourself? Yep, makes perfect sense to me; God only helps when you decide that blind and unquestioning obedience to Him/Her/It is the only option left open to you. Now if that ain't Love, then just what the fuck is? I think I saw that on a Hallmark Card, once.
But then again, it seems to work for many folks. I must admit that I gave it a try once or twice, and then finally figured out why it works:
People who would take to drinking, shooting heroin, destroying their careers, bodies and families, people who would take the lowest road to Perdition that you can imagine, are preternaturally stupid and cowardly. If they had any brains or innate courage, they probably wouldn't have gotten to that low point in the first place.
I took an informal count of all the Born Again Christians I know, approximately 30 of them, and discovered what I thought I would: before they were washed in the Blood, they were probably the most despicable people you'd ever hope to meet. A good number were people who were simply 'lost'; they never seemed to fit in anywhere, and had no sense of 'belonging'. Most had unhappy childhoods and family lives, and whatever crap they had gotten into was both a means of escape and an entryway into some kind of camaraderie.with others. Whatever. I know I drank because I was a miserable bastard who was under the mistaken impression that Life Owed Him Everything and it Was All Fucking Unfair, so who am I, really, to criticize?
So, there she was, arrested, her child taken from her because she was an addict married to a dimwit who made his living pushing poison and outside the law. She was released after a day or two, and then went right home to clean out that medicine cabinet. No more percocets, no more halcyon, the stash of pot the cops never found went right down the toilet. She filed for divorce, she started Narcotics Anonymous, she wanted her daughter back, and then she wanted some measure of normalcy. She finally passed that radiology certification exam that she had studied for like 10 years to take, and had failed twice before.
She got the kid, she got the house, and Dimwit died in the can, lucky her.
She still prays for him, though.
The rest of the evening went something like this:
Boy, you're not the same person I remember. Do you think I've changed much?
Yes, I would say you're a completely different person now. I rather like it.
Weird, you know?
Well, we all have to grow up at some point, right? We hope to, anyway. Neither one of us was really mature, or ready for some kind of commitment, back then.
That is sooooo right. You know, that reminds me of St. Paul's Epistle to the Ephesians where....
...YAWN...
You tired?
Excuse me! I don't know what's come over me. I'm not really tired but somehow can't stop yawning. So, you think the Yankees will win 100 games this year?
The conversation, such as it was, repeated this most-annoying cycle; she would throw out an inanity, try to correlate it with whatever verse of Scripture that inanity 'reminded her of', and then I'd quickly try to change the subject. Despite my best efforts, I still got an earful of Jonah, Moses, Thomas Aquinas, and Pope Benedict.
Roman Catholicism hasn't changed much since I gave it up. I can see why: it doesn't need to. The world is still full of assholes who will swallow it all whole.
And then she told me I that was "a good listener...a lot more patient than you used to be...I've really enjoyed seeing you again. Would you like to do this again? Maybe I'll cook something...?"
She just couldn't stay out late on a Saturday night, she tells me, because she is expected to be at Church bright and early, cleaning and polishing the place within an inch of it fucking life before services. It calmed her, she said, gave her a feeling of peace and purpose.
Good for you.
I told her that I'll be busy for the next couple of weeks, and want to get off these miserable crutches, but that I will call her soon. As if.
Then again, her boobs seem to have gotten bigger, so who knows? Maybe if you can steer her away from the Beast of Revelations it might be possible to talk about the Beast With Two Backs?
Yes, I'm terrible. Spare me the e-mail, please, ladies?
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
From the "Psychiatry is Bullshit" Files...
Yesterday, as is my wont, I was watching television, when there happened to be a little program on the Learning Channel entitled Searching for Sanity. The premise of the show was that 10 strangers, five with diagnosed mental disorders, could be forced to live together for a week or something, given a bunch of onerous tasks to be completed as a team, all the while under the observation of a team of "psychiatric experts" who are kept in the dark about all the stranger's mental conditions.
The challenge was for the Psych Team to be able to pick out the head cases based on their activities and reactions. The Pshrinks were being tested to see if they could accurately distinguish the Moon-Howlers from the 'Normal' folks, and if they could make a diagnosis which was in line with the disorders on view. In addition, they were also being tested to see if they could distinguish between characteristics which are more accurately described as personality traits as opposed to full-blown mental diseases. And guess what happened?
The Pshrinks -- a Psychiatric Nurse, a Renown Psychiatrist, and a Professor of Psychiatry --were wrong about 60% of the time. They managed to tag members of the 'Control Group' as mentally ill when they weren't, and missed some of the insanity of the Rubber Room Brigade entirely.
All that clinical training, all that education, all that experience, and they had the same results you would expect as if they had simply guessed at Who's the Loony, or had a chicken peck at the Dingbats completely at random. Might as well have been blindfolded for the entire week. Before I completely destroy the Mental Health Profession for such dismal results, we need to take two things into consideration:
1. The test took place in England, where the Socialized Medical system has probably resulted in doctors who really don't give a shit. They're basically better-paid factory workers or trash collectors, who can't be sued for malpractice, and who have operated for years under a mess of government guidelines that are probably both contradictory and convoluted, and so there's bound to be some apathy, some bad work habits, and a lot of complacency within them.
2. Some of the Mental Patients had been undergoing therapy for many years, or were on medications which masked their symptoms during the test. But the results were astounding, and reinforced, in my mind, something I've been saying for a very long time: Modern Psychology is complete and utter bullshit, very often practiced by individuals who only initially took psychiatry up in school so as to discover what was wrong with themselves.
After a near-decade on the couch myself, I've come to the conclusion that a Psychiatrist is merely someone who is often in a position to offer you some common-sense advice, but refrains from doing so because they like the $400, 45-minute hour too much. Only with a prescription pad. They substitute whatever cancer is eating away at your brain --Mommy didn't love me, the Little Green Men live under my bed, the World is out to Get Me -- with the super-addictive drugs of sympathy and empathy. That they're faking both doesn't occur to you. That sympathy and empathy is what keeps you coming back, like the heroin addict to the Spike, and allows Dr. Douche to get the leather and wood interior in the new Beemer this year.
And speaking of prescription pads, the Mental-Diseases-are-the-result-of-chemical-imbalances- in-the-brain school of psychiatry probably does more harm than good, dispensing a variety of meds that:
1. No one knows exactly how or why they work, and sometimes, even if they will.
2. Probably have no long-lasting therapeutic value.
3. Can be addictive.
4. Produce other health risks when used for extended periods of time.
Because giving you some drugs is a lot easier than having to listen to your bullshit, and then having to offer you some decent advice. Besides, it's covered by insurance, ain't it?
The challenge was for the Psych Team to be able to pick out the head cases based on their activities and reactions. The Pshrinks were being tested to see if they could accurately distinguish the Moon-Howlers from the 'Normal' folks, and if they could make a diagnosis which was in line with the disorders on view. In addition, they were also being tested to see if they could distinguish between characteristics which are more accurately described as personality traits as opposed to full-blown mental diseases. And guess what happened?
The Pshrinks -- a Psychiatric Nurse, a Renown Psychiatrist, and a Professor of Psychiatry --were wrong about 60% of the time. They managed to tag members of the 'Control Group' as mentally ill when they weren't, and missed some of the insanity of the Rubber Room Brigade entirely.
All that clinical training, all that education, all that experience, and they had the same results you would expect as if they had simply guessed at Who's the Loony, or had a chicken peck at the Dingbats completely at random. Might as well have been blindfolded for the entire week. Before I completely destroy the Mental Health Profession for such dismal results, we need to take two things into consideration:
1. The test took place in England, where the Socialized Medical system has probably resulted in doctors who really don't give a shit. They're basically better-paid factory workers or trash collectors, who can't be sued for malpractice, and who have operated for years under a mess of government guidelines that are probably both contradictory and convoluted, and so there's bound to be some apathy, some bad work habits, and a lot of complacency within them.
2. Some of the Mental Patients had been undergoing therapy for many years, or were on medications which masked their symptoms during the test. But the results were astounding, and reinforced, in my mind, something I've been saying for a very long time: Modern Psychology is complete and utter bullshit, very often practiced by individuals who only initially took psychiatry up in school so as to discover what was wrong with themselves.
After a near-decade on the couch myself, I've come to the conclusion that a Psychiatrist is merely someone who is often in a position to offer you some common-sense advice, but refrains from doing so because they like the $400, 45-minute hour too much. Only with a prescription pad. They substitute whatever cancer is eating away at your brain --Mommy didn't love me, the Little Green Men live under my bed, the World is out to Get Me -- with the super-addictive drugs of sympathy and empathy. That they're faking both doesn't occur to you. That sympathy and empathy is what keeps you coming back, like the heroin addict to the Spike, and allows Dr. Douche to get the leather and wood interior in the new Beemer this year.
And speaking of prescription pads, the Mental-Diseases-are-the-result-of-chemical-imbalances- in-the-brain school of psychiatry probably does more harm than good, dispensing a variety of meds that:
1. No one knows exactly how or why they work, and sometimes, even if they will.
2. Probably have no long-lasting therapeutic value.
3. Can be addictive.
4. Produce other health risks when used for extended periods of time.
Because giving you some drugs is a lot easier than having to listen to your bullshit, and then having to offer you some decent advice. Besides, it's covered by insurance, ain't it?
Friday, March 25, 2011
The Klan and the Taliban ARE the Same Thing, But...
(Ed. Note: Throughout this stupidity the word 'Taliban' is used as a catch-all, and refers to any organization -- Hamas, Islamic Jihad, the Iranian Theocracy, Palestinian Authority, etc. -- that espouses a Radical Islamic view, or engages in terrorist activities).
With regards to some of the more frequently asked (by Libtards) questions surrounding the recent King Hearings on What Makes an American Jihadi:
Why aren't we asking questions about the Klan, instead of The Religion of Peace? Why are we focusing on the bad actions of a non-White people, and ignoring the terrible behavior of White people? Wouldn't this seem to indicate that (White) racism is still alive and well in America? And if racism is still alive and well in America, then aren't these hearings little more than the open expression of that (White) racism, directed against yet another minority group that has drawn the misdirected ire of (White) racists with bad intent, themselves?
The reason this line of questioning/reasoning has been adopted by the American Left is very easy to understand: Liberals, especially those with a vested interest in keeping the America-is-a-racist-country scam going, simply don't want anyone to ask questions about Islam, or about the methods by which young Muslim men are drawn into terrorist acts. Because obstruction and changing the subject ensures that no facts ever can be found. Once people are in possession of facts, meaningful, effective action can be taken, and the problem (hopefully) eliminated. Once this formula (ask-questions, get answers, formulate effective policies) is applied to the problem of Muslim radicalization, it's only a short hop-skip-and-a-jump before it's applied to some of the other problems of American society.
And therein lies the problem, if you're a Lefty or one of the parasites that the Leftards attract. The answers (mostly rooted in Common Sense) to those questions would, literally, destroy the foundation of Modern Progressive Liberalism (three lies for the price of one) because it would expose the true intent of those who profess it's commandments with the loudest voices; the creation of a society wherein those who are politically connected or possessed of the proper political, educational, racial and ethnic 'credentials' get to run a society for their own, personal benefit.
If you really want to see how the 'system' designed by Liberals is intended to work (i.e. that is, intended to fail in such spectacular ways as to create popular sentiments calling for further government control of everything from private property to healthcare), then I suggest you find yourself a copy of James Burnham's The Managerial Revolution, and settle in for a (no pun intended) terrifyingly informative read. Racial and ethnic politics is the Progressive Moron's main tool in the fight to keep himself comfortable by means of someone else's misery.
But, back to our original question: Is the Klan the equivalent of the Taliban?
I've thought about this, and done a bit of research, and the answer is...YES...and...NO.
To begin with, the Klan and Taliban are exactly the same in these regards: both are built upon a foundation of extreme chauvinism. Both use murder and the threat of violence to advance their causes. The two are virtually indistinguishable from one another in virtually every aspect of their politics, religious views, anti-Semitism, ethnic snobbery, and the stupidity of their footsoldiers (i.e. inbred, mentally-challenged dupes who couldn't find their own asses with both hands and a flashlight).
There is but one difference between the Klan and Taliban:
The Klan, largely, has ceased to exist.
That is not to say that racism doesn't continue to exist, because it most certainly does. So long as human beings are at least capable of being aware of the differences between people, no matter how slight, racism will continue to endure. As a race -- the Human Race, that is -- we can't help ourselves. Man may be Master of the Planet, he may have split the atom, broken the Sound Barrier, and conquered Measles, but he still has not managed to control the more dubious aspects of his own Nature and Stupidity.
As for the Klan, it was killed a very long time ago (or at least mortally wounded), and while there are still isolated pockets hanging on here or there, you don't see people walking around in their laundry burning crosses, or having necktie parties... unless they happen to be in a Labor Union... these days. The reasons for this are:
1. American Society has Evolved: We're not perfect people, but we're much better than we were 400 years ago. We're even better than we were 50 years ago. We live in a society which celebrates even the most brain-dead achievements of people regardless of skin color, and which puts no official or legal barriers in the way of anyone who wishes to better their lot in life. For every Willie Horton, I'll show you a Neil Degrasse Tyson. For every Mumia, I'll show you a Russell Simmons. For every Al Sharpton, I'll show you a Ward Connerly, and raise you a Thomas Sowell, Clarence Thomas, Colin Powell and a Condoleeza Rice.
Hell, I'll go All-In, and raise you a Barack Obama.
The cultural conditions under which the Klan once thrived no longer exist; most people would be more embarrassed to be seen in the company, or even thought to be in the company, of such people and such a discredited mindset they'd almost rather be falsely accused of being a pedophile. It's not just a matter of people adopting more fashionable attitudes, either, it's the realization that such notions as racial supremacy simply should not dominate the thoughts and actions of decent people anymore. They have better things to do than to waste their time on such stupidity, and because they've seen the tragic and disgusting results such mindsets create when they are a) excused, and b) perpetuated, and we won't stand for them anymore.
In fact, where there are circumstances which are dominated by questions of race (i.e. instances of what the Professional Grievance Lobby calls 'Institutional Racism') we're most likely to find the source of all that rancor contains one (and often, all) of the following ingredients:
a) Ignorance
b) Political advantage
c) At least one act of Congress
d) a Battalion of Lawyers, Civil Rights Activists, Busybodies, Professional Douchebags, all fighting for a government grant.
2. Cross-Pollination: There was a time when 'Separate-but-Equal' may have been the Law of the Land in some parts of America but that is a thing of the past, and even in the days when it was the Golden Rule, people routinely ignored the Law if it didn't suit their purposes or tastes. Even in the days of Slavery it was not uncommon for people of different races and classes to form bonds of friendship and mutual respect. I don't mean to imply that such circumstances were the Rule rather than the Exception, but they were a lot more common than most of us really know, or even care to admit.
We live in a country and within a culture that is the direct result of these person-to-person contacts and recognition of our shared humanity. To believe otherwise is to ignore the evidence right in front of your own nose. Even in times of the most obscene and blatant racism, individuals still formed bonds and alliances that transcended official diktat, or societal norms.
How different this country would be if no white people enjoyed the music of Louis Armstrong? How many would have died had Charles Drew not discovered the process of separating blood plasma, and had his discovery judged by the cold, clinical process of medical science rather than by Jim Crow? Would we be the same people if Muhammad Ali had remained Cassius Clay and not reminded us of both our moral and ethical obligations towards one another, while still exemplifying the triumph of the individual? Would we be the same people if Jim Thorpe, Jesse Owens, Carlos Santana, Maya Lin, or Mae Jemmison had never existed, or weren't permitted to make the best of their opportunities, or even denied the opportunity to make any contribution to our common life and culture?
The fact is that Hyphenated-this-that-or-the-other History is American History. These sub-cultures are all part-and-parcel of American Culture. One hundred years ago if a group of whites were caught dancing to 'N*gger Music" their society would have taken drastic -- often deadly -- measures to 'protect the Children' from a pernicious (in their own minds) influence. Nowadays, how many white kids do you know who don't know Snoop's rhymes, who don't wear baggy clothing, or who wouldn't want to emulate the success of P. Diddy (or whatever the fuck he calls himself these days)?
What would a Blue Blooded New England Money family say 50 years ago if Reginald Augustus Primrose-Twitt III decided to marry Consuela Coocheefritos from San Juan? What would be the reaction then if Sweet Polly Purebred brought Rayquan home to meet the family? Do those attitudes persist to this day? I'm sure they still do. But do they still exist to the same extent? Are Raul, Sven, or Antwaan in danger of being scooped up off of the street, in the dead of night, and dragged off to be brutally executed in order to 'send a message' to them Uppity ______ about reaching for forbidden fruit, for attempting to be something he isn't, or for daring to cross some invisible line that 'destroys' the old distinctions between 'Civilization' and 'Barbarism' ?
The 'sub-cultures', White, Black, Hispanic, Asian, Jewish, Italian, Irish, Swedish are now inseparable. They've been in contact with one another for so long that they have melded together to form something greater than the sum of their parts. Yes, there are still frictions, but these are typically minor concerns, mostly reconciled peacefully, and without resort to IED's, hijacked airliners-cum-WMDs, or lynchings. In the grand scheme of things, in America, the Melting Pot still works....when it's allowed to, free from Progressive Libtard interference.
I often think of Malcolm X's oft-repeated mantra that "We didn't land on Plymouth Rock...Plymouth Rock landed on us...", and can't help but think that such an utterance is a (probably-unintentional) double-edged sword. It's intent was to call attention to the hypocrisy of a white society that failed to live up to it's own rhetoric about freedom and equality -- fair enough --but there is a deeper truth that can be taken from that pronouncement; you may have come from Africa, El Salvador, Russia, or China, but you now find yourself in a completely different culture which plays by different rules. If you wish to truly be a part of the Great American Experiment -- fuck, there's plenty of room for you on the bandwagon -- you have to check some of your cherished Ur-cultural beliefs (hang-ups) at the door; we often find wonders in diversity (not by the definition employed by the of douchebags looking for quick-and-easy legal settlements and money), but our true strength derives from a commonality in belief in certain, core principles.
I would even go as far to say that even though this is still a culture dominated by the ideals of White Europeans, it's still capable of making concessions and compromises, incorporating those that work, ejecting those that don't, and re-crafting itself on a continuous basis.
America hasn't always had clean hands, nor has it always lived up to it's stated ideals, but we, as a People, always strive to improve ourselves and our nation, and part of that process demands that at some point distinctions based upon Race and Religion have to be thrown away for the common good, or even in the name of simple utility. Some came to America as refugees, some were dragged here in chains, others arrived here eager to have a chance of personal success, and while that promise hasn't always been fulfilled for all, creating the conditions under which they can be realized is still an activity that is front-and-center in most aspects of American Life.
Organizations like the Klan or the Taliban are antithetical to such notions as personal ability being the key to success, of freedoms, of the idea that things can be perfected without having to kill your enemies, real or imagined. So far as they are concerned, God has set the World in it's current state and order, Man cannot change the world because to do so would be to question the Will of God. Man's purpose is only to do the Will of God, and to Maintain the World as God Created, Ordered and Commanded it.
3. Sunlight: The Klan eventually went too far, even for some of it's more adamant supporters, and brought upon themselves the scrutiny -- and repudiation -- of a public which questioned the morality of what they had done, and what they stood for. This scrutiny ensured that the full force of American public opinion, the Legal System, The Press, and Religious/Ethical imperatives were brought to bear upon them. They were investigated. They were infiltrated. The Greater Public was made aware of who they were, what they thought, what they did, and how they did it. The actions and thought processes of the Klan were exposed to the merciless light of day, and what America found hiding in those dark corners both astonished and disgusted us. The hue and cry went up that this sort of stupidity had no place in American life. Slowly-but-surely, the Klan was taken a part at it's joints.
You would be hard pressed nowadays to collect more than a handful of open Klan members at any gathering, even if you offered free sheets, blowjobs, and ice-cold beer. And if there were to be any substantial gathering of Klansmen in the public square, there would be a larger -- and angrier -- gathering of people opposed to to them. The Klansmen would be shouted off the streets. They would be harassed by an angry populace. They would be investigative-reporter-ed to death. In the age of the Internet, instantaneous communications, and handy gadgets that make every American a potential informant, the Klan couldn't organize a game of checkers in a broom closet without drawing attention to itself and bringing down the wrath of the American Public.
We know who they are. We know what they're doing, and saying, and thinking, and when you know the Who-What-Where-When-How and Why, you have already half-way defeated your enemy. The other half of that defeat stems from a population of well-intentioned human beings who are willing to stand up and say "Not here, Jim Bob (or Muhammad)...we don't like that shit, and we'll kick your inbred Cracker (Sandflea-riddled) ass if you even think of trying it..."
I knew a Southern Lady who once told me that despite the bad reputation of the Klan, and the terrible things it did, it still "managed to do some good". I found that statement somewhat ridiculous, and asked her to explain. She replied that, in the Old Days, the Klan served some vital social functions in the rural south; they took care of veterans, took care of cemeteries, went after deadbeat dads and forced them to live up to their obligations, sobered up the local drunks. There was never any drug dealing, and very little crime in the community, they hounded the prostitutes out of town (presumably after making copious use of their services?), they made sure people showed up at church (unless they burned the church down, of course). Naturally, they only performed these vital services for you if you were white, but that's splitting hairs, ain't it?
Well, I'm perfectly certain that the Taliban does these things, too, in their own ways, and we know that Hamas, Islamic Jihad, the Saudi Wahabbis and the rest of the assholes follow suit. But in both cases (Klan and Taliban) the ultimate purpose is not to 'do good', it's simply a way to continually recruit a new generation of members who will perpetuate their insanity. It's called 'Public Relations', and the fact that the Klan had 'good PR' amongst one group doesn't erase the fact that they were murdering thugs intent on constructing a society that was under their total control at the expense of another group.
Had society been informed of only 'the good things the Klan did' -- and kept ignorant of the bad stuff --there would still be legions of doofuses out there in their sheets, burning down churches, hanging people, threatening politicians and newspapermen, and committing a vast array of crimes. The Klan may have started out as the (self-appointed) protectors of a unique Southern Heritage, but it quickly devolved into a murderous Criminal Enterprise. All the same things about 'the good' were said to various extents about the Mafia, the Chinese Triads, The Irish Gangs of the West Side -- and all were considered the enemies of the Common Good-- so you'd better damned well look into the activities of the Klan, and the Islamic Groups who are it's Modern-day inheritors. I don't care if Hamas feeds every Palestinian Prime Rib and Red Velvet Cake three meals a day; they also massacre sleeping infants, lob mortar rounds into public swimming pools, and mangle their daughter's vaginas. We subjected the Klan to close, careful scrutiny and we continue to do it, because those sorts of activities fly in the face of our beliefs in the sovereign rights of the individual -- the rights to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.
Sunlight would do the same thing and disarm Radical Islamofascism. It would concentrate all sorts of resources, moral, spiritual, ethical, legal, academic, military, to stopping the slaughter and mayhem such an ideology produces. Once you know the Who-What-Where-When-How-and-Why, the threat they pose to peaceful, lawful society is lessened, and perhaps is even sent on it's merry way to becoming little more than a bad memory. Societies which do not investigate, question, or attempt to learn from their mistakes, or arrest their more onerous impulses, are societies that die quickly and quietly in chains, both real and intellectual.
The 'great shame' of investigating the roots of Islamic Terrorism is not that someone might be singled out, or that the process may become the harbinger of some great totalitarianism, but that in avoiding it, for whatever reason, we're dooming an entire nation and culture -- the greatest yet constructed by human beings -- to destruction, not by lunatics with bombs, but by a fear of what the investigations might uncover, and the application of it's techniques and discoveries to other areas of American life.
When a liberal democrat or intellectual screams 'racism' and 'what about that other group of bad people...' they're not so much applying the flawed theory of moral relativism, or even making an attempt to be intellectually honest, they're telling you there's something there that they don't want you to know. Mostly, they don't want you to know how such stupidity usually has the Progressive's fingerprints all over it, and how you've managed to pay for it all (and how they got a cut) without your knowledge.
On this very page, I have screamed for the massacre of Muslims by the millions and been accused of racism because of it. First, 'Muslim' is not a race, and second, Islam is not a religion; it is a military code which excuses the worst excesses of it's followers, provided the victims aren't Muslim (and even then, the Islamic world has found a variety of means by which to slip even this thinnest of prohibitions when it suits their purposes). The Muslim is expected to remain in a state of perpetual warfare against The Enemies of God, and is given license to rape, murder, enslave and steal from anyone not part of his little group. In fact, God commands him to do these things; God says that's his birthright, you see.
Islam makes no distinctions other than 'Us' and 'Them', and neither did the KKK. It doesn't look for 'Moderate' Infidels anymore than the Klan had a list of "N*ggers we're cool with".
So, as far as I'm concerned, we're not at war with a 'radical element', nor are we in conflict with a few misguided souls who managed to read the Koran in upside down fashion; we're at war with a society which believes it is their right, and it's obligation, to kill us for it's own benefit. The faster we understand that and the quicker we get around to defeating such a deadly thought process, the better off we are as a society. Holding hearings into what causes a computer programmer to wire his Jeep Cherokee into a weapon of mass destruction is the key to ensuring that his brand of stupidity doesn't cost any of us our lives, or any more of our freedoms.
The Klan thought and acted in much the same way as the Islamofascists. That they are no longer as active, or as-deadly, an element in American society started with someone asking the most basic of all questions:
Why?
When you live in a society which tries to prevent you from asking "Why?" -- by playing crass politics, by making false accusations of racism, creating rifts between people and communities, by manipulating emotions -- then deep, perhaps even dangerous, truths are probably being kept from us, and for all intents and purposes we'll eventually find ourselves to be no different from the Klan or the Taliban in the very near future, and just about every conceivable way.
Update: Edited for spelling/grammar.
With regards to some of the more frequently asked (by Libtards) questions surrounding the recent King Hearings on What Makes an American Jihadi:
Why aren't we asking questions about the Klan, instead of The Religion of Peace? Why are we focusing on the bad actions of a non-White people, and ignoring the terrible behavior of White people? Wouldn't this seem to indicate that (White) racism is still alive and well in America? And if racism is still alive and well in America, then aren't these hearings little more than the open expression of that (White) racism, directed against yet another minority group that has drawn the misdirected ire of (White) racists with bad intent, themselves?
The reason this line of questioning/reasoning has been adopted by the American Left is very easy to understand: Liberals, especially those with a vested interest in keeping the America-is-a-racist-country scam going, simply don't want anyone to ask questions about Islam, or about the methods by which young Muslim men are drawn into terrorist acts. Because obstruction and changing the subject ensures that no facts ever can be found. Once people are in possession of facts, meaningful, effective action can be taken, and the problem (hopefully) eliminated. Once this formula (ask-questions, get answers, formulate effective policies) is applied to the problem of Muslim radicalization, it's only a short hop-skip-and-a-jump before it's applied to some of the other problems of American society.
And therein lies the problem, if you're a Lefty or one of the parasites that the Leftards attract. The answers (mostly rooted in Common Sense) to those questions would, literally, destroy the foundation of Modern Progressive Liberalism (three lies for the price of one) because it would expose the true intent of those who profess it's commandments with the loudest voices; the creation of a society wherein those who are politically connected or possessed of the proper political, educational, racial and ethnic 'credentials' get to run a society for their own, personal benefit.
If you really want to see how the 'system' designed by Liberals is intended to work (i.e. that is, intended to fail in such spectacular ways as to create popular sentiments calling for further government control of everything from private property to healthcare), then I suggest you find yourself a copy of James Burnham's The Managerial Revolution, and settle in for a (no pun intended) terrifyingly informative read. Racial and ethnic politics is the Progressive Moron's main tool in the fight to keep himself comfortable by means of someone else's misery.
But, back to our original question: Is the Klan the equivalent of the Taliban?
I've thought about this, and done a bit of research, and the answer is...YES...and...NO.
To begin with, the Klan and Taliban are exactly the same in these regards: both are built upon a foundation of extreme chauvinism. Both use murder and the threat of violence to advance their causes. The two are virtually indistinguishable from one another in virtually every aspect of their politics, religious views, anti-Semitism, ethnic snobbery, and the stupidity of their footsoldiers (i.e. inbred, mentally-challenged dupes who couldn't find their own asses with both hands and a flashlight).
There is but one difference between the Klan and Taliban:
The Klan, largely, has ceased to exist.
That is not to say that racism doesn't continue to exist, because it most certainly does. So long as human beings are at least capable of being aware of the differences between people, no matter how slight, racism will continue to endure. As a race -- the Human Race, that is -- we can't help ourselves. Man may be Master of the Planet, he may have split the atom, broken the Sound Barrier, and conquered Measles, but he still has not managed to control the more dubious aspects of his own Nature and Stupidity.
As for the Klan, it was killed a very long time ago (or at least mortally wounded), and while there are still isolated pockets hanging on here or there, you don't see people walking around in their laundry burning crosses, or having necktie parties... unless they happen to be in a Labor Union... these days. The reasons for this are:
1. American Society has Evolved: We're not perfect people, but we're much better than we were 400 years ago. We're even better than we were 50 years ago. We live in a society which celebrates even the most brain-dead achievements of people regardless of skin color, and which puts no official or legal barriers in the way of anyone who wishes to better their lot in life. For every Willie Horton, I'll show you a Neil Degrasse Tyson. For every Mumia, I'll show you a Russell Simmons. For every Al Sharpton, I'll show you a Ward Connerly, and raise you a Thomas Sowell, Clarence Thomas, Colin Powell and a Condoleeza Rice.
Hell, I'll go All-In, and raise you a Barack Obama.
The cultural conditions under which the Klan once thrived no longer exist; most people would be more embarrassed to be seen in the company, or even thought to be in the company, of such people and such a discredited mindset they'd almost rather be falsely accused of being a pedophile. It's not just a matter of people adopting more fashionable attitudes, either, it's the realization that such notions as racial supremacy simply should not dominate the thoughts and actions of decent people anymore. They have better things to do than to waste their time on such stupidity, and because they've seen the tragic and disgusting results such mindsets create when they are a) excused, and b) perpetuated, and we won't stand for them anymore.
In fact, where there are circumstances which are dominated by questions of race (i.e. instances of what the Professional Grievance Lobby calls 'Institutional Racism') we're most likely to find the source of all that rancor contains one (and often, all) of the following ingredients:
a) Ignorance
b) Political advantage
c) At least one act of Congress
d) a Battalion of Lawyers, Civil Rights Activists, Busybodies, Professional Douchebags, all fighting for a government grant.
2. Cross-Pollination: There was a time when 'Separate-but-Equal' may have been the Law of the Land in some parts of America but that is a thing of the past, and even in the days when it was the Golden Rule, people routinely ignored the Law if it didn't suit their purposes or tastes. Even in the days of Slavery it was not uncommon for people of different races and classes to form bonds of friendship and mutual respect. I don't mean to imply that such circumstances were the Rule rather than the Exception, but they were a lot more common than most of us really know, or even care to admit.
We live in a country and within a culture that is the direct result of these person-to-person contacts and recognition of our shared humanity. To believe otherwise is to ignore the evidence right in front of your own nose. Even in times of the most obscene and blatant racism, individuals still formed bonds and alliances that transcended official diktat, or societal norms.
How different this country would be if no white people enjoyed the music of Louis Armstrong? How many would have died had Charles Drew not discovered the process of separating blood plasma, and had his discovery judged by the cold, clinical process of medical science rather than by Jim Crow? Would we be the same people if Muhammad Ali had remained Cassius Clay and not reminded us of both our moral and ethical obligations towards one another, while still exemplifying the triumph of the individual? Would we be the same people if Jim Thorpe, Jesse Owens, Carlos Santana, Maya Lin, or Mae Jemmison had never existed, or weren't permitted to make the best of their opportunities, or even denied the opportunity to make any contribution to our common life and culture?
The fact is that Hyphenated-this-that-or-the-other History is American History. These sub-cultures are all part-and-parcel of American Culture. One hundred years ago if a group of whites were caught dancing to 'N*gger Music" their society would have taken drastic -- often deadly -- measures to 'protect the Children' from a pernicious (in their own minds) influence. Nowadays, how many white kids do you know who don't know Snoop's rhymes, who don't wear baggy clothing, or who wouldn't want to emulate the success of P. Diddy (or whatever the fuck he calls himself these days)?
What would a Blue Blooded New England Money family say 50 years ago if Reginald Augustus Primrose-Twitt III decided to marry Consuela Coocheefritos from San Juan? What would be the reaction then if Sweet Polly Purebred brought Rayquan home to meet the family? Do those attitudes persist to this day? I'm sure they still do. But do they still exist to the same extent? Are Raul, Sven, or Antwaan in danger of being scooped up off of the street, in the dead of night, and dragged off to be brutally executed in order to 'send a message' to them Uppity ______ about reaching for forbidden fruit, for attempting to be something he isn't, or for daring to cross some invisible line that 'destroys' the old distinctions between 'Civilization' and 'Barbarism' ?
The 'sub-cultures', White, Black, Hispanic, Asian, Jewish, Italian, Irish, Swedish are now inseparable. They've been in contact with one another for so long that they have melded together to form something greater than the sum of their parts. Yes, there are still frictions, but these are typically minor concerns, mostly reconciled peacefully, and without resort to IED's, hijacked airliners-cum-WMDs, or lynchings. In the grand scheme of things, in America, the Melting Pot still works....when it's allowed to, free from Progressive Libtard interference.
I often think of Malcolm X's oft-repeated mantra that "We didn't land on Plymouth Rock...Plymouth Rock landed on us...", and can't help but think that such an utterance is a (probably-unintentional) double-edged sword. It's intent was to call attention to the hypocrisy of a white society that failed to live up to it's own rhetoric about freedom and equality -- fair enough --but there is a deeper truth that can be taken from that pronouncement; you may have come from Africa, El Salvador, Russia, or China, but you now find yourself in a completely different culture which plays by different rules. If you wish to truly be a part of the Great American Experiment -- fuck, there's plenty of room for you on the bandwagon -- you have to check some of your cherished Ur-cultural beliefs (hang-ups) at the door; we often find wonders in diversity (not by the definition employed by the of douchebags looking for quick-and-easy legal settlements and money), but our true strength derives from a commonality in belief in certain, core principles.
I would even go as far to say that even though this is still a culture dominated by the ideals of White Europeans, it's still capable of making concessions and compromises, incorporating those that work, ejecting those that don't, and re-crafting itself on a continuous basis.
America hasn't always had clean hands, nor has it always lived up to it's stated ideals, but we, as a People, always strive to improve ourselves and our nation, and part of that process demands that at some point distinctions based upon Race and Religion have to be thrown away for the common good, or even in the name of simple utility. Some came to America as refugees, some were dragged here in chains, others arrived here eager to have a chance of personal success, and while that promise hasn't always been fulfilled for all, creating the conditions under which they can be realized is still an activity that is front-and-center in most aspects of American Life.
Organizations like the Klan or the Taliban are antithetical to such notions as personal ability being the key to success, of freedoms, of the idea that things can be perfected without having to kill your enemies, real or imagined. So far as they are concerned, God has set the World in it's current state and order, Man cannot change the world because to do so would be to question the Will of God. Man's purpose is only to do the Will of God, and to Maintain the World as God Created, Ordered and Commanded it.
3. Sunlight: The Klan eventually went too far, even for some of it's more adamant supporters, and brought upon themselves the scrutiny -- and repudiation -- of a public which questioned the morality of what they had done, and what they stood for. This scrutiny ensured that the full force of American public opinion, the Legal System, The Press, and Religious/Ethical imperatives were brought to bear upon them. They were investigated. They were infiltrated. The Greater Public was made aware of who they were, what they thought, what they did, and how they did it. The actions and thought processes of the Klan were exposed to the merciless light of day, and what America found hiding in those dark corners both astonished and disgusted us. The hue and cry went up that this sort of stupidity had no place in American life. Slowly-but-surely, the Klan was taken a part at it's joints.
You would be hard pressed nowadays to collect more than a handful of open Klan members at any gathering, even if you offered free sheets, blowjobs, and ice-cold beer. And if there were to be any substantial gathering of Klansmen in the public square, there would be a larger -- and angrier -- gathering of people opposed to to them. The Klansmen would be shouted off the streets. They would be harassed by an angry populace. They would be investigative-reporter-ed to death. In the age of the Internet, instantaneous communications, and handy gadgets that make every American a potential informant, the Klan couldn't organize a game of checkers in a broom closet without drawing attention to itself and bringing down the wrath of the American Public.
We know who they are. We know what they're doing, and saying, and thinking, and when you know the Who-What-Where-When-How and Why, you have already half-way defeated your enemy. The other half of that defeat stems from a population of well-intentioned human beings who are willing to stand up and say "Not here, Jim Bob (or Muhammad)...we don't like that shit, and we'll kick your inbred Cracker (Sandflea-riddled) ass if you even think of trying it..."
I knew a Southern Lady who once told me that despite the bad reputation of the Klan, and the terrible things it did, it still "managed to do some good". I found that statement somewhat ridiculous, and asked her to explain. She replied that, in the Old Days, the Klan served some vital social functions in the rural south; they took care of veterans, took care of cemeteries, went after deadbeat dads and forced them to live up to their obligations, sobered up the local drunks. There was never any drug dealing, and very little crime in the community, they hounded the prostitutes out of town (presumably after making copious use of their services?), they made sure people showed up at church (unless they burned the church down, of course). Naturally, they only performed these vital services for you if you were white, but that's splitting hairs, ain't it?
Well, I'm perfectly certain that the Taliban does these things, too, in their own ways, and we know that Hamas, Islamic Jihad, the Saudi Wahabbis and the rest of the assholes follow suit. But in both cases (Klan and Taliban) the ultimate purpose is not to 'do good', it's simply a way to continually recruit a new generation of members who will perpetuate their insanity. It's called 'Public Relations', and the fact that the Klan had 'good PR' amongst one group doesn't erase the fact that they were murdering thugs intent on constructing a society that was under their total control at the expense of another group.
Had society been informed of only 'the good things the Klan did' -- and kept ignorant of the bad stuff --there would still be legions of doofuses out there in their sheets, burning down churches, hanging people, threatening politicians and newspapermen, and committing a vast array of crimes. The Klan may have started out as the (self-appointed) protectors of a unique Southern Heritage, but it quickly devolved into a murderous Criminal Enterprise. All the same things about 'the good' were said to various extents about the Mafia, the Chinese Triads, The Irish Gangs of the West Side -- and all were considered the enemies of the Common Good-- so you'd better damned well look into the activities of the Klan, and the Islamic Groups who are it's Modern-day inheritors. I don't care if Hamas feeds every Palestinian Prime Rib and Red Velvet Cake three meals a day; they also massacre sleeping infants, lob mortar rounds into public swimming pools, and mangle their daughter's vaginas. We subjected the Klan to close, careful scrutiny and we continue to do it, because those sorts of activities fly in the face of our beliefs in the sovereign rights of the individual -- the rights to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.
Sunlight would do the same thing and disarm Radical Islamofascism. It would concentrate all sorts of resources, moral, spiritual, ethical, legal, academic, military, to stopping the slaughter and mayhem such an ideology produces. Once you know the Who-What-Where-When-How-and-Why, the threat they pose to peaceful, lawful society is lessened, and perhaps is even sent on it's merry way to becoming little more than a bad memory. Societies which do not investigate, question, or attempt to learn from their mistakes, or arrest their more onerous impulses, are societies that die quickly and quietly in chains, both real and intellectual.
The 'great shame' of investigating the roots of Islamic Terrorism is not that someone might be singled out, or that the process may become the harbinger of some great totalitarianism, but that in avoiding it, for whatever reason, we're dooming an entire nation and culture -- the greatest yet constructed by human beings -- to destruction, not by lunatics with bombs, but by a fear of what the investigations might uncover, and the application of it's techniques and discoveries to other areas of American life.
When a liberal democrat or intellectual screams 'racism' and 'what about that other group of bad people...' they're not so much applying the flawed theory of moral relativism, or even making an attempt to be intellectually honest, they're telling you there's something there that they don't want you to know. Mostly, they don't want you to know how such stupidity usually has the Progressive's fingerprints all over it, and how you've managed to pay for it all (and how they got a cut) without your knowledge.
On this very page, I have screamed for the massacre of Muslims by the millions and been accused of racism because of it. First, 'Muslim' is not a race, and second, Islam is not a religion; it is a military code which excuses the worst excesses of it's followers, provided the victims aren't Muslim (and even then, the Islamic world has found a variety of means by which to slip even this thinnest of prohibitions when it suits their purposes). The Muslim is expected to remain in a state of perpetual warfare against The Enemies of God, and is given license to rape, murder, enslave and steal from anyone not part of his little group. In fact, God commands him to do these things; God says that's his birthright, you see.
Islam makes no distinctions other than 'Us' and 'Them', and neither did the KKK. It doesn't look for 'Moderate' Infidels anymore than the Klan had a list of "N*ggers we're cool with".
So, as far as I'm concerned, we're not at war with a 'radical element', nor are we in conflict with a few misguided souls who managed to read the Koran in upside down fashion; we're at war with a society which believes it is their right, and it's obligation, to kill us for it's own benefit. The faster we understand that and the quicker we get around to defeating such a deadly thought process, the better off we are as a society. Holding hearings into what causes a computer programmer to wire his Jeep Cherokee into a weapon of mass destruction is the key to ensuring that his brand of stupidity doesn't cost any of us our lives, or any more of our freedoms.
The Klan thought and acted in much the same way as the Islamofascists. That they are no longer as active, or as-deadly, an element in American society started with someone asking the most basic of all questions:
Why?
When you live in a society which tries to prevent you from asking "Why?" -- by playing crass politics, by making false accusations of racism, creating rifts between people and communities, by manipulating emotions -- then deep, perhaps even dangerous, truths are probably being kept from us, and for all intents and purposes we'll eventually find ourselves to be no different from the Klan or the Taliban in the very near future, and just about every conceivable way.
Update: Edited for spelling/grammar.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Judas Only Got 30 Pieces of Silver...
Staten Island Tea Party leader who hates ObamaCare, and preaches the Gospel of Smaller Government, takes city government job with iron-clad, tax-payer-paid-for health benefits.
I knew there was a reason why I didn't associate with the Staten Island Tea Party.
I don't know Mr. Santarpia personally, but there was always something about this man that I instinctively disliked. Perhaps it was the Glenn Beck-wannabe nature of the SITP website (not linking to it). Maybe it was the fact that the SITP membership often reminded me of one of the more unpleasant aspects of life on this island, namely, the Elderly Who Remember When there Were Farms Here and who regard the rest of us who arrived on these shores post-1965 the same way one would regard a host of locusts. Incontinent locusts, at that.
1965 was when the Verrazano-Narrows bridge opened, linking Brooklyn with Staten Island. It led to a real estate boom (funny, but Mr. Santarpia is a real-estate mogul, isn't he?) that many oldtimers around here liken to the days when westward-pushing settlers chased the Plains Indians off their land, and destroyed the idyll of the island. Only without the slaughters and smallpox. The smallpox was what they had here in the 19th century,and The Immigrants brought that with them. Oh, and cows. In fact, there were once riots here on Staten Island over the internment of 'quarantined' immigrants in local hospices, I think after a cholera epidemic ran loose.
Anyways, all of us Guineas from over the Gangplank (as Italians here are often known) and the Shanty Irish ruined this place, those oldtimers say. Nowadays, that Old Breed of Staten Islander is too old to work, so all they do is sit around and talk about the good old days, bitch about Modern Life, and count the seconds until the Grim Reaper keeps his appointment with them. Other than that, they mostly sit around and vote, or rather, wait for someone to come by and tell them how to vote.Like Santarpia. He reminded them of Nathan Hale, whom they remember fondly from grammar school.
The SITP can boast some younger members, true, but they tend to the more conservative (in terms of money, not so much the social issues, because if you saw how their children behave you'd wonder why it is anyone bothers to go to church or pay for Catholic school).Mostly, they tend to be the newer class of Really-Upper-Middle-Class douchebags who have tried to break into the Staten Island GOP ranks for the last 30 years, but have been stymied because their names aren't 'Molinari'. Santarpia always struck me as one of those guys -- someone who believed he was entitled to be in city government because he was rich, dammit, but couldn't get into the Club -- which is why when I decided to look into this Tea Party thing, I quickly came to the decision that I wouldn't follow this guy into my own house.
For those of you who aren't familiar with that name, Guy Molinari was the Borough President of Staten Island when Christ still wore short pants, and held that post for longer than many care to remember. In fact, Molinari's name is probably scratched on every cave wall from Tottenville to St. George. His daughter, Susan, was a republican congresswoman who gave the address at the 1992 (I believe) Republican convention. Guy Molinari, they say, made Rudy Guiliani. In the Brain-dead Wing of the NY GOP, it was once spoken in hushed whispers that Susan would one day be decent presidential material, however, she gave up politics to be a wife and mother. Truthfully, I would have voted for her. The Molinaris are regarded as political kingmakers in this City.
Anyways, back to Santarpia.
In the last mid-term election, Santarpia's legions helped defeat Congressdick Mike McMahon, who, quite frankly, is a gigantic douchebag, so it's not as if it was a major feat. McMahon was elected to Congress in the special election (or was it 'erection'?) that followed the resignation of Rep. Vito Fossella, Staten Island's very own one-man DWI and Baby-Daddy show. McMahon was replaced by Rep. Michael Grimm, who won with considerable Tea Party support, and since Grimm has been sworn in, Santarpia has been up his ass on a fairly constant basis. I guess Frankie believes that he's bought Grimm, he should be able to call the tune he dances to, as well.
It wasn't long ago that Santapia started his other pet project, which was to get Tea Partiers into every low-level elected or appointed office they could manage to snare. Of course, that was supposed to be for the public good; if the Tea Party was 'on the inside', the rationale went, they'd be in a better position to put the brakes on the worst abuses of government.
Unless you're a retired real-estate magnate who tires of paying for his own health insurance, I guess. Then accepting an appointment from a republican who's up for re-election (or perhaps seeking higher office; James Oddo is a damned good guy, and effective councilman, who's wasting his talents at City Hall) is both a good way to relieve yourself of that expense, and getting the ear of another politician (or getting your claws into him).
Personally, I don't care about Frank Santarpia, and I don't care about the Staten Island Tea Party, which, by the way, could find better things to do then fret whether queers are allowed to march in the local St. Patrick's Day parade. The only reason they cared, I bet, is because the Staten Island Democratic Club were pushing the issue. In the end, there was a kerfuffle over the parade, and during the parade, and the Tea Party was right in the thick of it.
Which dovetails very nicely with all that "lower taxes, smaller government" bullshit Santarpia's spouted for the last two years, doesn't it?
I knew there was a reason why I didn't associate with the Staten Island Tea Party.
I don't know Mr. Santarpia personally, but there was always something about this man that I instinctively disliked. Perhaps it was the Glenn Beck-wannabe nature of the SITP website (not linking to it). Maybe it was the fact that the SITP membership often reminded me of one of the more unpleasant aspects of life on this island, namely, the Elderly Who Remember When there Were Farms Here and who regard the rest of us who arrived on these shores post-1965 the same way one would regard a host of locusts. Incontinent locusts, at that.
1965 was when the Verrazano-Narrows bridge opened, linking Brooklyn with Staten Island. It led to a real estate boom (funny, but Mr. Santarpia is a real-estate mogul, isn't he?) that many oldtimers around here liken to the days when westward-pushing settlers chased the Plains Indians off their land, and destroyed the idyll of the island. Only without the slaughters and smallpox. The smallpox was what they had here in the 19th century,and The Immigrants brought that with them. Oh, and cows. In fact, there were once riots here on Staten Island over the internment of 'quarantined' immigrants in local hospices, I think after a cholera epidemic ran loose.
Anyways, all of us Guineas from over the Gangplank (as Italians here are often known) and the Shanty Irish ruined this place, those oldtimers say. Nowadays, that Old Breed of Staten Islander is too old to work, so all they do is sit around and talk about the good old days, bitch about Modern Life, and count the seconds until the Grim Reaper keeps his appointment with them. Other than that, they mostly sit around and vote, or rather, wait for someone to come by and tell them how to vote.Like Santarpia. He reminded them of Nathan Hale, whom they remember fondly from grammar school.
The SITP can boast some younger members, true, but they tend to the more conservative (in terms of money, not so much the social issues, because if you saw how their children behave you'd wonder why it is anyone bothers to go to church or pay for Catholic school).Mostly, they tend to be the newer class of Really-Upper-Middle-Class douchebags who have tried to break into the Staten Island GOP ranks for the last 30 years, but have been stymied because their names aren't 'Molinari'. Santarpia always struck me as one of those guys -- someone who believed he was entitled to be in city government because he was rich, dammit, but couldn't get into the Club -- which is why when I decided to look into this Tea Party thing, I quickly came to the decision that I wouldn't follow this guy into my own house.
For those of you who aren't familiar with that name, Guy Molinari was the Borough President of Staten Island when Christ still wore short pants, and held that post for longer than many care to remember. In fact, Molinari's name is probably scratched on every cave wall from Tottenville to St. George. His daughter, Susan, was a republican congresswoman who gave the address at the 1992 (I believe) Republican convention. Guy Molinari, they say, made Rudy Guiliani. In the Brain-dead Wing of the NY GOP, it was once spoken in hushed whispers that Susan would one day be decent presidential material, however, she gave up politics to be a wife and mother. Truthfully, I would have voted for her. The Molinaris are regarded as political kingmakers in this City.
Anyways, back to Santarpia.
In the last mid-term election, Santarpia's legions helped defeat Congressdick Mike McMahon, who, quite frankly, is a gigantic douchebag, so it's not as if it was a major feat. McMahon was elected to Congress in the special election (or was it 'erection'?) that followed the resignation of Rep. Vito Fossella, Staten Island's very own one-man DWI and Baby-Daddy show. McMahon was replaced by Rep. Michael Grimm, who won with considerable Tea Party support, and since Grimm has been sworn in, Santarpia has been up his ass on a fairly constant basis. I guess Frankie believes that he's bought Grimm, he should be able to call the tune he dances to, as well.
It wasn't long ago that Santapia started his other pet project, which was to get Tea Partiers into every low-level elected or appointed office they could manage to snare. Of course, that was supposed to be for the public good; if the Tea Party was 'on the inside', the rationale went, they'd be in a better position to put the brakes on the worst abuses of government.
Unless you're a retired real-estate magnate who tires of paying for his own health insurance, I guess. Then accepting an appointment from a republican who's up for re-election (or perhaps seeking higher office; James Oddo is a damned good guy, and effective councilman, who's wasting his talents at City Hall) is both a good way to relieve yourself of that expense, and getting the ear of another politician (or getting your claws into him).
Personally, I don't care about Frank Santarpia, and I don't care about the Staten Island Tea Party, which, by the way, could find better things to do then fret whether queers are allowed to march in the local St. Patrick's Day parade. The only reason they cared, I bet, is because the Staten Island Democratic Club were pushing the issue. In the end, there was a kerfuffle over the parade, and during the parade, and the Tea Party was right in the thick of it.
Which dovetails very nicely with all that "lower taxes, smaller government" bullshit Santarpia's spouted for the last two years, doesn't it?
A Guy Could Get Killed Around Here...
First off, I must offer my apologies about something. I was planning to post some crap about the King Hearings yesterday, but never got around to putting the finishing touches on the post -- something I will do today, depending upon how I feel -- but I have an excuse for it. Bear with me, because this gets a little convoluted. and then just plain strange.
You see, I did something incredibly stupid yesterday (only yesterday?); I tried to cross a street, with traffic lights and crosswalks, and everything. Not just any street, mind you, but a street where there's three-way traffic at an intersection which is becoming a bit notorious in these parts for a variety of reasons, and none of them good.
The intersection of Amboy and Richmond Roads here in New Dorp is probably one of the most dangerous stretches of pavement in all of Staten Island, and I wouldn't doubt that it's becoming one of the more hazardous intersections in all of New York City. The combination of turning lanes and obnoxious semi-suburban SUV drivers combining to make a trip across the street, even within clearly-marked crosswalks, the pedestrian equivalent of walking through a dynamite factory with flaming torches in either hand and one stuck in your rectum. You are, literally, taking your life into your own hands when you attempt to cross the street there.
I have absolutely no luck whatsoever at this particular intersection, and so it is a complete mystery to me why I continue to use it. I have had food tossed at me from a moving vehicle at this spot. I have been nearly killed or crippled by inconsiderate drivers who wanted to race me through the junction more times than I care to remember. I have witnessed at least four accidents, or near-accidents, there in the last six months, and seen the wreckage of about half a dozen more at the site.
Why this is should be is easy to figure out: the average driver on Staten Island is a dipshit, who somehow hasn't come to the realization that a car can be a deadly weapon, and should be driven responsibly. There is a sense of entitlement, or stupidity, perhaps both, present in our drivers which states that they have the right to make a turn any goddamned time they wish. Red lights are something you can safely pass through if you happen to be the the first to get there, and there's at least a millisecond either before or after the yellow and red. There is no red-light camera there -- unlike the two intersections to the east or west -- and it's one of those places where if you don't complete your left turns as quickly as possible, you will have to suffer the indignity of having to wait another 90 seconds to do so, with a long line of impatient dipshit drivers behind you all blaring their horns and questioning your lineage.
Having to slow down for a pedestrian, or holding your turn to allow them to pass, is a burden no one wishes to bear in their rush to the next red light. You're in a car, after all, dammit, and cars mean motion, and if that means you have to nearly sideswipe some asshole on foot, then that's his problem. I've complained about this on many occasions, but yesterday's little escapade has me absolutely fuming.
Because I was nearly run down...again...by a driver running a red light, and this time, my usually-cat-like reflexes (HA!) failed me during the critical furious-backpedalling-stage, and with the street being slick because of a snow-rain mix (not to mention all the oil slicks from previous accidents. I swear, if you wanted to solve the problem of our dependence upon foreign oil, send two dudes with Shamwows to this intersection after a rainstorm. They could soak up enough oil from the pavement to keep us going for the next century). I fell in the path of the oncoming Ford Contour, which missed me by about two feet.
Now, to give the driver who nearly killed me credit, he at least blew his horn as he went through the light, giving me about three seconds of warning that he had no intention of stopping, and then did me an even bigger favor by not hitting the accelerator as he passed. There wasn't even a swerve. He also didn't have the courtesy to stop, get out of the car, and see if I was alright or not; that driver just continued on his merry way.
All I know about that Ford are the color and the North Carolina plate. In this neck of the woods, North Carolina plates usually mean 'illegal immigrant'. Having once lived in North Carolina myself, this is probably not very far from the truth.
So, there I am, laying in the street, and all the vehicles that had been lined up to make the left turn that would carry them into my path had I been upright, went about their business. Shouldn't let something as trivial as a man who has slipped and fallen into the path of oncoming traffic stop you from making that all-important left on your way to Starbuck's, or to get your nails done. Four vehicles, and four potential witnesses, simply drove by, taking care to at least slow down while I tried to regain my footing...
...which soon became problematic, what with the pain and all. So, I struggled to one foot, and hopped back to the questionable safety of the sidewalk. I say "questionable" because if you saw the guardrails that are mounted along the road to 'protect' pedestrians, you might think the same thing; there isn't a one that doesn't bear witness to the number of accidents at this intersection. They're all dented, warped, misshapen, mangled, and bear multiple multi-colored streaks, the remnants of numerous paint jobs that have scraped, rammed, brushed or kissed the steel.
There I am, in awesome pain, of the sort that put me in danger of abandoning my Agnostic ways, for I was invoking the name of the Savior...only in a way that would probably get me kicked out of most polite congregations. Putting any weight whatsoever on my left foot became problematic, and then, virtually impossible. I was pretty certain that something was broken.
Which is were this starts to get weird.
I'm self-employed, and erratically employed, at that, which means I have no medical insurance. I'm also a white male, which means no ObamaCare or Medicaid for me; white males are supposed to PAY for those things, but not actually benefit from them. This means no trip to the Emergency Room for me unless I'm bleeding profusely, can see a vital organ, or have a hole someplace big enough to drive a freight train through it. This means a trip to the Urgent Care Center (three lies for the price of one), where services are cash-and-carry. Fortunately, I didn't have far to limp to the nearest bus stop, and the wait was uncomfortable, but mercifully short.
I was seeing enough stars to qualify me to to run NASA.
Eventually, the bus deposits me within hopping distance of the Urgent Care Center, which -- go figure -- is full of illegal immigrants, mostly children, who are coughing up blood and scratching at crusty shit all over their faces that I wouldn't even begin to guess the origin of, and leaving a trail of mucus, spit, pus and Lord-knows-what-else all over every surface, while their mothers babble on in that Spanglish patois, apparently unconcerned that Miguel and Pablo are jumping off the furniture, or that Pillar or Margarita are digging in the trash cans, or that their newly-mobile infants are crawling on the floors and picking up strange shit to put in their mouths.
There's approximately 52 forms to fill in, and a two-hour wait, but what do you expect for $79.00? It could be worse: I could be in Canada and waiting eleven years for a foot specialist, or in England waiting behind 3,000 Muslims, each with three wives in tow, waiting for the results of the blood tests they took six months ago as a prelude to marrying wife Number Four. My foot and ankle have now swollen to the point where I can actually watch my veins bulge and twitch with every heartbeat. I have watched my skin turn multiple colors. If my foot were a wine list, you could have had your choice: Red, Rose, Burgundy. I think I've invented a new color; Blurple, which is a combination of black and purple. It hurt like hell.
I finally get to see a Nurse Practitioner, who will decide if I really need a doctor. Within 15 seconds, and one 'GODDAMN!' later, her professional judgement was that, yes, you should see the doctor before we have to saw that sucker off.
The Doctor comes in. He reminds me of the sort one usually associates with Microsoft Technical Support; he's Indian, his English is difficult to follow, and he's probably the only guy within the distance who will work for this ridiculously low price. You know you're in trouble when you see that Doctor Ghandi has posted his diploma proudly in the examination room, and you think you see the words 'Fisher-Price' on it. He decides that the best course of action is have my foot x-rayed, so that he can make a 'pro-p-er diag-NO-sees'. I would have to hobble down the hall to the radiologist...
...and right down Mammary...errr...MEMORY Lane.
Because Debbie is the radiologist.
Debbie (not her real name) is someone I once dated for a very short while, Back in the Day. The romance didn't last very long because Debbie had some very annoying personality traits (like I'm some prince?). For a start, she used to show up at my place of work...every night...with a complete meal cooked. I didn't mind this so much because she could cook up a storm, but I was working and couldn't spare a whole lot of time to entertain her. I was also having to answer questions about who she was, because her name kept appearing in the security guard's sign-in book,and well...I'm supposed to be working, not having a dinner date in the office. So I had to ask her to stop. Which pissed her off; Debbie was always easily pissed off.
In fact, everything was a big fucking drama with Debbie, so that even the odd, innocent comment or action pissed her off, and quickly became a Federal Case. No apology was ever accepted, and within 24 hours every deadly sin you committed was usually forgotten, and things were all sunshine and candy canes again. Amongst her other faults: she was a pot smoker, big time, and once you showed up, leaving again was a serious issue; she didn't want to be left alone. But then she'd start some shit, give you the cold shoulder and demand that you leave, and whenever this repetitive process began, Debbie was almost always starting to roll a joint.
I later discovered that Debbie was addicted to prescription painkillers (and more. She hid it very well), and the constant drama was just her way of manufacturing an excuse to take them without having to admit that she was an addict. Needless to say, I wasn't putting up with that sort of bullshit, and so Debbie got the heave-ho. Ancient history, right? It's been like 17, 18, years, maybe more, and there's that Hippocratic Oath thingy for her to consider, right?
And here she is, about to subject me to a dose of radiation.
She's changed. She finally seems happy (it's amazing to me how all the women in my life seem to get happier after I stop dating them. Wonder what's wrong with them?), and it's apparent that she's finally passed that radiology exam that she failed twice while we were dating. Then again, that makes me a bit worried -- because I know she's failed the exam twice. I could be walking out of this room with a mutated gene, you know.She's been married, and divorced (who didn't see that coming?). But she was actually pleasant, concerned, happy to see me, and wanted to know everything that has transpired in my life since we parted ways. Since this was not the proper venue for chit-chat -- there were, after all, another 40 illegal immigrants outside demanding Medicaid-provided x-rays for their runny noses and leprosy --we're going to get together this weekend. I'm bringing my gun, just in case she goes all mental on me. Been known to happen with Debbie. Don't know why I said "yes"; in hindsight, I should have asked her for a head x-ray, too, I figure.
Anyways, nothing is broken. It's just an extremely bad sprain, with the possibility of some (minor) ligament damage. Doctor Swami suggests ice packs, Tylenol, and that I see an orthopaedist, as Nurse-Practitioner Bedside-Manner wraps my foot/ankle so tight you'd think it was an Egyptian Pharaoh on his way to the Dirt Nap. I can't get a shoe back on, so it's a cab ride home for me.
I call the cops to report a near hit-and-run, and they take a report, but they ain't got much. Metallic Ford, North Carolina plates, maybe Hispanic driver, no witnesses. I have a better chance of shitting gold bricks than I ever have of seeing that douchebag with a driver's license (someone gave this retard a driver's license?) being brought to justice, or of seeing anyone in authority do something useful about that intersection. I'm out $90.00, and somehow managed to make a date with a woman I once walked out on because I thought she would go all Glen Close on me, even if she did make a killer pot-roast.
It all probably would have been easier to just get myself run over.
You see, I did something incredibly stupid yesterday (only yesterday?); I tried to cross a street, with traffic lights and crosswalks, and everything. Not just any street, mind you, but a street where there's three-way traffic at an intersection which is becoming a bit notorious in these parts for a variety of reasons, and none of them good.
The intersection of Amboy and Richmond Roads here in New Dorp is probably one of the most dangerous stretches of pavement in all of Staten Island, and I wouldn't doubt that it's becoming one of the more hazardous intersections in all of New York City. The combination of turning lanes and obnoxious semi-suburban SUV drivers combining to make a trip across the street, even within clearly-marked crosswalks, the pedestrian equivalent of walking through a dynamite factory with flaming torches in either hand and one stuck in your rectum. You are, literally, taking your life into your own hands when you attempt to cross the street there.
I have absolutely no luck whatsoever at this particular intersection, and so it is a complete mystery to me why I continue to use it. I have had food tossed at me from a moving vehicle at this spot. I have been nearly killed or crippled by inconsiderate drivers who wanted to race me through the junction more times than I care to remember. I have witnessed at least four accidents, or near-accidents, there in the last six months, and seen the wreckage of about half a dozen more at the site.
Why this is should be is easy to figure out: the average driver on Staten Island is a dipshit, who somehow hasn't come to the realization that a car can be a deadly weapon, and should be driven responsibly. There is a sense of entitlement, or stupidity, perhaps both, present in our drivers which states that they have the right to make a turn any goddamned time they wish. Red lights are something you can safely pass through if you happen to be the the first to get there, and there's at least a millisecond either before or after the yellow and red. There is no red-light camera there -- unlike the two intersections to the east or west -- and it's one of those places where if you don't complete your left turns as quickly as possible, you will have to suffer the indignity of having to wait another 90 seconds to do so, with a long line of impatient dipshit drivers behind you all blaring their horns and questioning your lineage.
Having to slow down for a pedestrian, or holding your turn to allow them to pass, is a burden no one wishes to bear in their rush to the next red light. You're in a car, after all, dammit, and cars mean motion, and if that means you have to nearly sideswipe some asshole on foot, then that's his problem. I've complained about this on many occasions, but yesterday's little escapade has me absolutely fuming.
Because I was nearly run down...again...by a driver running a red light, and this time, my usually-cat-like reflexes (HA!) failed me during the critical furious-backpedalling-stage, and with the street being slick because of a snow-rain mix (not to mention all the oil slicks from previous accidents. I swear, if you wanted to solve the problem of our dependence upon foreign oil, send two dudes with Shamwows to this intersection after a rainstorm. They could soak up enough oil from the pavement to keep us going for the next century). I fell in the path of the oncoming Ford Contour, which missed me by about two feet.
Now, to give the driver who nearly killed me credit, he at least blew his horn as he went through the light, giving me about three seconds of warning that he had no intention of stopping, and then did me an even bigger favor by not hitting the accelerator as he passed. There wasn't even a swerve. He also didn't have the courtesy to stop, get out of the car, and see if I was alright or not; that driver just continued on his merry way.
All I know about that Ford are the color and the North Carolina plate. In this neck of the woods, North Carolina plates usually mean 'illegal immigrant'. Having once lived in North Carolina myself, this is probably not very far from the truth.
So, there I am, laying in the street, and all the vehicles that had been lined up to make the left turn that would carry them into my path had I been upright, went about their business. Shouldn't let something as trivial as a man who has slipped and fallen into the path of oncoming traffic stop you from making that all-important left on your way to Starbuck's, or to get your nails done. Four vehicles, and four potential witnesses, simply drove by, taking care to at least slow down while I tried to regain my footing...
...which soon became problematic, what with the pain and all. So, I struggled to one foot, and hopped back to the questionable safety of the sidewalk. I say "questionable" because if you saw the guardrails that are mounted along the road to 'protect' pedestrians, you might think the same thing; there isn't a one that doesn't bear witness to the number of accidents at this intersection. They're all dented, warped, misshapen, mangled, and bear multiple multi-colored streaks, the remnants of numerous paint jobs that have scraped, rammed, brushed or kissed the steel.
There I am, in awesome pain, of the sort that put me in danger of abandoning my Agnostic ways, for I was invoking the name of the Savior...only in a way that would probably get me kicked out of most polite congregations. Putting any weight whatsoever on my left foot became problematic, and then, virtually impossible. I was pretty certain that something was broken.
Which is were this starts to get weird.
I'm self-employed, and erratically employed, at that, which means I have no medical insurance. I'm also a white male, which means no ObamaCare or Medicaid for me; white males are supposed to PAY for those things, but not actually benefit from them. This means no trip to the Emergency Room for me unless I'm bleeding profusely, can see a vital organ, or have a hole someplace big enough to drive a freight train through it. This means a trip to the Urgent Care Center (three lies for the price of one), where services are cash-and-carry. Fortunately, I didn't have far to limp to the nearest bus stop, and the wait was uncomfortable, but mercifully short.
I was seeing enough stars to qualify me to to run NASA.
Eventually, the bus deposits me within hopping distance of the Urgent Care Center, which -- go figure -- is full of illegal immigrants, mostly children, who are coughing up blood and scratching at crusty shit all over their faces that I wouldn't even begin to guess the origin of, and leaving a trail of mucus, spit, pus and Lord-knows-what-else all over every surface, while their mothers babble on in that Spanglish patois, apparently unconcerned that Miguel and Pablo are jumping off the furniture, or that Pillar or Margarita are digging in the trash cans, or that their newly-mobile infants are crawling on the floors and picking up strange shit to put in their mouths.
There's approximately 52 forms to fill in, and a two-hour wait, but what do you expect for $79.00? It could be worse: I could be in Canada and waiting eleven years for a foot specialist, or in England waiting behind 3,000 Muslims, each with three wives in tow, waiting for the results of the blood tests they took six months ago as a prelude to marrying wife Number Four. My foot and ankle have now swollen to the point where I can actually watch my veins bulge and twitch with every heartbeat. I have watched my skin turn multiple colors. If my foot were a wine list, you could have had your choice: Red, Rose, Burgundy. I think I've invented a new color; Blurple, which is a combination of black and purple. It hurt like hell.
I finally get to see a Nurse Practitioner, who will decide if I really need a doctor. Within 15 seconds, and one 'GODDAMN!' later, her professional judgement was that, yes, you should see the doctor before we have to saw that sucker off.
The Doctor comes in. He reminds me of the sort one usually associates with Microsoft Technical Support; he's Indian, his English is difficult to follow, and he's probably the only guy within the distance who will work for this ridiculously low price. You know you're in trouble when you see that Doctor Ghandi has posted his diploma proudly in the examination room, and you think you see the words 'Fisher-Price' on it. He decides that the best course of action is have my foot x-rayed, so that he can make a 'pro-p-er diag-NO-sees'. I would have to hobble down the hall to the radiologist...
...and right down Mammary...errr...MEMORY Lane.
Because Debbie is the radiologist.
Debbie (not her real name) is someone I once dated for a very short while, Back in the Day. The romance didn't last very long because Debbie had some very annoying personality traits (like I'm some prince?). For a start, she used to show up at my place of work...every night...with a complete meal cooked. I didn't mind this so much because she could cook up a storm, but I was working and couldn't spare a whole lot of time to entertain her. I was also having to answer questions about who she was, because her name kept appearing in the security guard's sign-in book,and well...I'm supposed to be working, not having a dinner date in the office. So I had to ask her to stop. Which pissed her off; Debbie was always easily pissed off.
In fact, everything was a big fucking drama with Debbie, so that even the odd, innocent comment or action pissed her off, and quickly became a Federal Case. No apology was ever accepted, and within 24 hours every deadly sin you committed was usually forgotten, and things were all sunshine and candy canes again. Amongst her other faults: she was a pot smoker, big time, and once you showed up, leaving again was a serious issue; she didn't want to be left alone. But then she'd start some shit, give you the cold shoulder and demand that you leave, and whenever this repetitive process began, Debbie was almost always starting to roll a joint.
I later discovered that Debbie was addicted to prescription painkillers (and more. She hid it very well), and the constant drama was just her way of manufacturing an excuse to take them without having to admit that she was an addict. Needless to say, I wasn't putting up with that sort of bullshit, and so Debbie got the heave-ho. Ancient history, right? It's been like 17, 18, years, maybe more, and there's that Hippocratic Oath thingy for her to consider, right?
And here she is, about to subject me to a dose of radiation.
She's changed. She finally seems happy (it's amazing to me how all the women in my life seem to get happier after I stop dating them. Wonder what's wrong with them?), and it's apparent that she's finally passed that radiology exam that she failed twice while we were dating. Then again, that makes me a bit worried -- because I know she's failed the exam twice. I could be walking out of this room with a mutated gene, you know.She's been married, and divorced (who didn't see that coming?). But she was actually pleasant, concerned, happy to see me, and wanted to know everything that has transpired in my life since we parted ways. Since this was not the proper venue for chit-chat -- there were, after all, another 40 illegal immigrants outside demanding Medicaid-provided x-rays for their runny noses and leprosy --we're going to get together this weekend. I'm bringing my gun, just in case she goes all mental on me. Been known to happen with Debbie. Don't know why I said "yes"; in hindsight, I should have asked her for a head x-ray, too, I figure.
Anyways, nothing is broken. It's just an extremely bad sprain, with the possibility of some (minor) ligament damage. Doctor Swami suggests ice packs, Tylenol, and that I see an orthopaedist, as Nurse-Practitioner Bedside-Manner wraps my foot/ankle so tight you'd think it was an Egyptian Pharaoh on his way to the Dirt Nap. I can't get a shoe back on, so it's a cab ride home for me.
I call the cops to report a near hit-and-run, and they take a report, but they ain't got much. Metallic Ford, North Carolina plates, maybe Hispanic driver, no witnesses. I have a better chance of shitting gold bricks than I ever have of seeing that douchebag with a driver's license (someone gave this retard a driver's license?) being brought to justice, or of seeing anyone in authority do something useful about that intersection. I'm out $90.00, and somehow managed to make a date with a woman I once walked out on because I thought she would go all Glen Close on me, even if she did make a killer pot-roast.
It all probably would have been easier to just get myself run over.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
In Retrospect, Abortion Might Not Be Such a Bad Idea, After All...
...especially if it means that people like this aren't ever born, just so they never get to breed.
Stuff, and people, like this disgusts me. That some unfortunate children are in the position of having to depend upon such...I hesitate to call them 'parents'...is a national fucking disgrace. This particular child is fortunate in this regard, only: at least, so far as we know, she wasn't beaten or sexually assaulted, and some passsers-by with more compassion and responsibility than her gamete donors did the right thing.
And the so-called father has the nerve to complain that the Police are violating his rights by asking him questions? Go figure. I wouldn't have cuffed the stupid son-of-a-bitch, I would have shot him on the spot and saved the taxpayer the trouble and expense of a trial.
Stuff, and people, like this disgusts me. That some unfortunate children are in the position of having to depend upon such...I hesitate to call them 'parents'...is a national fucking disgrace. This particular child is fortunate in this regard, only: at least, so far as we know, she wasn't beaten or sexually assaulted, and some passsers-by with more compassion and responsibility than her gamete donors did the right thing.
And the so-called father has the nerve to complain that the Police are violating his rights by asking him questions? Go figure. I wouldn't have cuffed the stupid son-of-a-bitch, I would have shot him on the spot and saved the taxpayer the trouble and expense of a trial.
I Wish These Guys Would Stop (Allegedly) Stealing My Stuff...
Now I know who all the people who find this site through Semrush and Whorush and simple Google Searches are: They appear to be mostly Bloggers -- who get paid while I don't -- who may be stealing my stuff. I ain't got no proof, but I got a laundry list of coinkydinks.
I wrote this three days ago. The only difference is that, true to the Ur-Conservative principle of discussing matters of money before all else, some people are starting to ask the additional question of who's paying for the new conflict in Libya. I'm seeing many of the same points being made by other bloggers and columnists long after I made them.
This is the second time (I believe that) I've noticed another blogger basically posting something I've already written which happens to coincide with a flurry of Semrush and Whorush hits (in case you don't know, Whorush and Semrush are companies which rank blog/websites by various traffic factors in order to let advertisers know which sites may be the best advertising investments for them. It can also, if you really think about it, be used to gauge the relative anonymity of those blogs/webpages so that if you were so inclined, you can rip them off and still have a plausible defense for it: I couldn't have stolen his work, Your Honor. Look: Semrush says that hardly anyone ever visits his site, and it's highly unlikely I -- a Professional Writer, as opposed to the Plaintiff, who could hardly write a Thank You Note -- would have come across such an obscure author, even by accident!
If a blog has a sizable following and a great number of visitors, then you can't steal their posts very easily because there are simply too many eyeballs, and the chance that the same pair of eyeballs catches the same, or near-same, post on another blog increases. If not, then apparently, it's fair game, and really, who's to know? It's just weird that I wrote something about polar bears once, and then S.E. Cupp wrote the same things ten months later, almost word-for-word, and now I ask ten questions about Libya, and a bunch of other people write basically the same crap that I did, and they all got paid.
Now, I really can't accuse anyone of much of anything based upon such flimsy evidence, but it does make me somewhat suspicious. It's also possible that two people working in complete ignorance of one another can manage to come up with the same ideas, so whatthe fuck do I I know? But this is starting to get spooky.
UPDATE: Edited to remove someone's name that I put in there by mistake. I meant to identify another author/blogger, but got confused. Sorry!
I wrote this three days ago. The only difference is that, true to the Ur-Conservative principle of discussing matters of money before all else, some people are starting to ask the additional question of who's paying for the new conflict in Libya. I'm seeing many of the same points being made by other bloggers and columnists long after I made them.
This is the second time (I believe that) I've noticed another blogger basically posting something I've already written which happens to coincide with a flurry of Semrush and Whorush hits (in case you don't know, Whorush and Semrush are companies which rank blog/websites by various traffic factors in order to let advertisers know which sites may be the best advertising investments for them. It can also, if you really think about it, be used to gauge the relative anonymity of those blogs/webpages so that if you were so inclined, you can rip them off and still have a plausible defense for it: I couldn't have stolen his work, Your Honor. Look: Semrush says that hardly anyone ever visits his site, and it's highly unlikely I -- a Professional Writer, as opposed to the Plaintiff, who could hardly write a Thank You Note -- would have come across such an obscure author, even by accident!
If a blog has a sizable following and a great number of visitors, then you can't steal their posts very easily because there are simply too many eyeballs, and the chance that the same pair of eyeballs catches the same, or near-same, post on another blog increases. If not, then apparently, it's fair game, and really, who's to know? It's just weird that I wrote something about polar bears once, and then S.E. Cupp wrote the same things ten months later, almost word-for-word, and now I ask ten questions about Libya, and a bunch of other people write basically the same crap that I did, and they all got paid.
Now, I really can't accuse anyone of much of anything based upon such flimsy evidence, but it does make me somewhat suspicious. It's also possible that two people working in complete ignorance of one another can manage to come up with the same ideas, so whatthe fuck do I I know? But this is starting to get spooky.
UPDATE: Edited to remove someone's name that I put in there by mistake. I meant to identify another author/blogger, but got confused. Sorry!
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Pressed for Time Today...
No insanity for you today, as I'm up to my armpits in important personal stuff. Check this page tomorrow for some juicy stuff, including a new Bad Medicine screed, and Ten Reasons Why the Klan and Taliban Are Not the Same (in response to the King hearings two weeks ago).
So for today, you will have to be content with a mini-roundup of navel gazing on the pressing questions of the day: What Was That About Smart Diplomacy, Again? and What happens when you give the Children Matches and Car Keys?
I want to know what happened to all them anti-war protestors since we started bombing Libya for no reason anyone can adequately explain. Haven't seen a single aging hippie with a "No Blood for Oil" sign, nor a single Code Pink lunatic (more like Code Pork) protesting this 'war of choice'. George W. Bush was a warmonger with no Exit Strategy who was killing innocent civilians, but Barack Obama is an enlightened Savior, even if we can't tell who it is, exactly, we're shooting at and dropping bombs on.
I guess it's because we have the Arab League on our side (yeah, right. Check this and this), or because The One is never, ever wrong, because if he was, it might disprove or cause people to question that whole left-wing ideology thingy, and simply reinforce the prevailing notion that Lefties are a) retards, b) irresponsible retards, and c) lying, irresponsible retards.
Then again, maybe the whole thing is just some sorry excuse for a joke?
So for today, you will have to be content with a mini-roundup of navel gazing on the pressing questions of the day: What Was That About Smart Diplomacy, Again? and What happens when you give the Children Matches and Car Keys?
I want to know what happened to all them anti-war protestors since we started bombing Libya for no reason anyone can adequately explain. Haven't seen a single aging hippie with a "No Blood for Oil" sign, nor a single Code Pink lunatic (more like Code Pork) protesting this 'war of choice'. George W. Bush was a warmonger with no Exit Strategy who was killing innocent civilians, but Barack Obama is an enlightened Savior, even if we can't tell who it is, exactly, we're shooting at and dropping bombs on.
I guess it's because we have the Arab League on our side (yeah, right. Check this and this), or because The One is never, ever wrong, because if he was, it might disprove or cause people to question that whole left-wing ideology thingy, and simply reinforce the prevailing notion that Lefties are a) retards, b) irresponsible retards, and c) lying, irresponsible retards.
Then again, maybe the whole thing is just some sorry excuse for a joke?
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Ten Thoughts on Libya...
In no particular order:
1. The U.S. has 'permission' from the United Nations to bomb Libyan forces in the form of a single Resolution, so the Obamatards say this particular application of military force is good and just. George W. Bush had 17 United Nations Resolutions on his side, and yet, action in Iraq was wrong. Yet another example of Liberal hypocrisy; it's almost not even worth the effort to call attention to all the contradictions, anymore.
2. GWB was criticized for getting the U.S. involved in an Iraqi Civil War and a Afghan Civil War , and we, the Public, were assured that both would be 'quagmires' from which we would never be able to extricate ourselves, because we had no 'Exit Strategy'. Barack Obama has just embroiled the United States in the Libyan Civil War, with no clear objective other than 'separating' the two sides, and 'protecting civilians' (by dropping bombs in close proximity to them?) . To what end, no one seems to know. If this is the emergence of an 'Obama Doctrine', then it's pretty much consistent with all of his other policies, to date: when you finally do get around to taking action, talk it to death for as long as possible beforehand, make certain you can't clearly explain your objective, execute in half-assed fashion, make certain your fingerprints aren't all over it, and leave someone else in a position to take the heat (in this case, Britain and France), make sure you're out of the country so that you don't have to answer any questions from the Press or Congress.
So, here we are, engaged in 'combat operations' to 'prepare the battlefield' (a battlefield which will see no U.S. Ground Troops?) in order to 'prevent violence against civilians', and yet, there will be no commitment of soldiers -- that we know of -- to maintain what cannot be achieved by an air campaign alone, let alone one in which we're only involved 'on the front end', i.e. the preservation of peace, and the removal of Khaddaffi.
3. Obama crows that the Arab League has blessed this operation, yet as of this morning, no Arab League forces are involved (there was just a news report of Qattari forces 'moving into position', but no one is quite sure what this means). No one has explained just why the Arab League has given it's official Okie-Dokie to this thing, because it's not as if the Arab League has been known for, or has an interest in, supporting democratic movements within the Arab World, so I have to question their motives, too.
4. If I hear the phrases 'unique capabilities', 'front-end' and 'no American Ground Troops' or 'We did not lead this...' again, I shall tear my hair out. It seems no spokesperson for the Administration can talk about this thing without using words designed to calm the fears of pantybunched American Left Wingers, who get nervous every time you start a war because someone, somewhere, might be freed from totalitarian oppression. They'd rather let Libyans live under a dictatorship and remain squishily 'pacifist'...unless there's union violence somewhere, then that's okay.
5. One report has stated that Canada, Denmark, and Norway have each contributed six planes to this operation. How long do you think it'll be before some moron in the Taliban Wing of the GOP frames this as an occurrence of the number 6-6-6, and calls the faithful to hoard canned goods and ammo in the compound/church, prepare for the Rapture, and label Barack Obama the Antichrist?
6. Does anyone actually know who these rebels are, and what the fuck they want, other than no more Khaddaffi? Have we just aided a bunch of people who will form another Iranian-style theocracy or Taliban? I rather doubt they want constitutional democracy, pluralistic society.- and WiFi access. They are NOT fighting to make Libya safe for Starbuck's and Arby's.
7. Khadaffi needed to be whacked because he announced that he would 'show no mercy' towards his people, but when Saddam Hussein gassed the Kurds, or hunted them in helicopters after Gulf War I, Libtards were deadly silent. This proves once again, that a Liberal abhors violence...unless they, or others of totalitarian mindset, get to inflict it. They believe their brand of violence is somehow always benevolent, and is always applied in an altruistic way.
8. Everyone agrees that Khadaffi must go, but President Odingbat keep saying 'no troops on the ground'. If you think you can get rid of him with an air campaign, guess again. Saddam Hussein hung on despite No-Fly Zones and Sanctions, Slobadan Milosevic, likewise, held out despite Clinton's bombing campaign. You cannot control events on the ground from the air. Ronald Reagan bombed Khaddaffi in 1982, and he's held on to the present day. Barack Obama couldn't even be a pimple of Reagan's Ass, on his best day.
9. Libtards like to crow that American force only leads to the creation of more terrorists, and now they've just used force against a regime that has actually used terrorism as a weapon against it's enemies. Good going. I live in New York, douchebags, and now we're on super-duper-hyper alert, even if no one in City Government (oxymoron) has asked us to be.
10. Last night on the idiot box, Geraldo Rivera was all worked up over Libyan WMD's, particularly Mustard Gas. I seem to remember Saddam Hussein having WMD's, including Mustard Gas -- just ask the Kurds -- and that fact never registered with liberals. Even when Iraqi WMD's were found, they pretended as if that was no big deal, and no justification-after-the-fact for GWB's military adventurism in Iraq.
Discuss...
1. The U.S. has 'permission' from the United Nations to bomb Libyan forces in the form of a single Resolution, so the Obamatards say this particular application of military force is good and just. George W. Bush had 17 United Nations Resolutions on his side, and yet, action in Iraq was wrong. Yet another example of Liberal hypocrisy; it's almost not even worth the effort to call attention to all the contradictions, anymore.
2. GWB was criticized for getting the U.S. involved in an Iraqi Civil War and a Afghan Civil War , and we, the Public, were assured that both would be 'quagmires' from which we would never be able to extricate ourselves, because we had no 'Exit Strategy'. Barack Obama has just embroiled the United States in the Libyan Civil War, with no clear objective other than 'separating' the two sides, and 'protecting civilians' (by dropping bombs in close proximity to them?) . To what end, no one seems to know. If this is the emergence of an 'Obama Doctrine', then it's pretty much consistent with all of his other policies, to date: when you finally do get around to taking action, talk it to death for as long as possible beforehand, make certain you can't clearly explain your objective, execute in half-assed fashion, make certain your fingerprints aren't all over it, and leave someone else in a position to take the heat (in this case, Britain and France), make sure you're out of the country so that you don't have to answer any questions from the Press or Congress.
So, here we are, engaged in 'combat operations' to 'prepare the battlefield' (a battlefield which will see no U.S. Ground Troops?) in order to 'prevent violence against civilians', and yet, there will be no commitment of soldiers -- that we know of -- to maintain what cannot be achieved by an air campaign alone, let alone one in which we're only involved 'on the front end', i.e. the preservation of peace, and the removal of Khaddaffi.
3. Obama crows that the Arab League has blessed this operation, yet as of this morning, no Arab League forces are involved (there was just a news report of Qattari forces 'moving into position', but no one is quite sure what this means). No one has explained just why the Arab League has given it's official Okie-Dokie to this thing, because it's not as if the Arab League has been known for, or has an interest in, supporting democratic movements within the Arab World, so I have to question their motives, too.
4. If I hear the phrases 'unique capabilities', 'front-end' and 'no American Ground Troops' or 'We did not lead this...' again, I shall tear my hair out. It seems no spokesperson for the Administration can talk about this thing without using words designed to calm the fears of pantybunched American Left Wingers, who get nervous every time you start a war because someone, somewhere, might be freed from totalitarian oppression. They'd rather let Libyans live under a dictatorship and remain squishily 'pacifist'...unless there's union violence somewhere, then that's okay.
5. One report has stated that Canada, Denmark, and Norway have each contributed six planes to this operation. How long do you think it'll be before some moron in the Taliban Wing of the GOP frames this as an occurrence of the number 6-6-6, and calls the faithful to hoard canned goods and ammo in the compound/church, prepare for the Rapture, and label Barack Obama the Antichrist?
6. Does anyone actually know who these rebels are, and what the fuck they want, other than no more Khaddaffi? Have we just aided a bunch of people who will form another Iranian-style theocracy or Taliban? I rather doubt they want constitutional democracy, pluralistic society.- and WiFi access. They are NOT fighting to make Libya safe for Starbuck's and Arby's.
7. Khadaffi needed to be whacked because he announced that he would 'show no mercy' towards his people, but when Saddam Hussein gassed the Kurds, or hunted them in helicopters after Gulf War I, Libtards were deadly silent. This proves once again, that a Liberal abhors violence...unless they, or others of totalitarian mindset, get to inflict it. They believe their brand of violence is somehow always benevolent, and is always applied in an altruistic way.
8. Everyone agrees that Khadaffi must go, but President Odingbat keep saying 'no troops on the ground'. If you think you can get rid of him with an air campaign, guess again. Saddam Hussein hung on despite No-Fly Zones and Sanctions, Slobadan Milosevic, likewise, held out despite Clinton's bombing campaign. You cannot control events on the ground from the air. Ronald Reagan bombed Khaddaffi in 1982, and he's held on to the present day. Barack Obama couldn't even be a pimple of Reagan's Ass, on his best day.
9. Libtards like to crow that American force only leads to the creation of more terrorists, and now they've just used force against a regime that has actually used terrorism as a weapon against it's enemies. Good going. I live in New York, douchebags, and now we're on super-duper-hyper alert, even if no one in City Government (oxymoron) has asked us to be.
10. Last night on the idiot box, Geraldo Rivera was all worked up over Libyan WMD's, particularly Mustard Gas. I seem to remember Saddam Hussein having WMD's, including Mustard Gas -- just ask the Kurds -- and that fact never registered with liberals. Even when Iraqi WMD's were found, they pretended as if that was no big deal, and no justification-after-the-fact for GWB's military adventurism in Iraq.
Discuss...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)