how very odd

Two people, both adoptees, meet and feel a deep connection. Such compatibility. They befriend, date, betroth. They marry. Then they find out that they are twins, separated at birth. Ouch. The court tossed their marriage. That’s harsh. “I thought you tasted familiar …”

President Bush stuck to his principles in the summer of 2001 when he limited federal funds for stem cell research if those cells came from unborn children. The guy opposes abortion – and whether you do or not – he was consistent. Good for him. The libs excoriated him, even though he was the first to allow ANY money for such research and every single advance before and after has been from adult stem cells. Regardless, isn’t it interesting that given constraints how innovation will occur? Just released, a method to harmlessly harvest fetal stem cells. Remarkable.

Saw a lot of these Smart cars in Europe. Coming here this year. They are very efficient: upon impact, they simply explode – leaving nothing for road crews to clean up, including anything but trace remains of you. Family members are given test tubes and everything needed to hermetically seal them, along with directions and encouragement to gather DNA samples prior to use of the vehicle.

Can you relate?

I enjoy articles about things astromonical. But check this quote – "It's an odd universe we live in," said Vanderbilt University astronomer Kelly Holley-Bockelmann.

Odd? She’s referencing the universe. No wait … she is referencing the universe. So, um, “odd” compared to what, exactly?

These people give me the yips.

Is there really a market for a glow-in-the-dark pussy? I mean, outside the porn industry?

Nuremberg had a baby polar bear and set up a website. It’s in German, but the pics tell the whole story. You can translate the page if you want to. Put the page URL in the box towards the bottom, select from German to English, and hit Translate. Works well.

I thought my life was dysfunctional … this guy goes to a brothel for some action and finds his wife there. Yeow!

Enough for now.

just yappin'

I’m surfing the net without a filter for the first time in a long while. A post or two below I mention and link to the Life in Israel blog. He’s got a long blogroll bottom right. I am cruising through those sites.

What I find remarkable is the anti-Bush stuff out there. People are so into the moment in front of them. It’s as is they have zero recollection of past realities, and equal knowledge of history.

Remember when Clinton tried to mastermind some military moves, and they went poorly? Did he say, “I could have done better?” No. He blamed specific junior officers and made them hold press conferences to confess their personal ineptitudes. How humiliating. Even if it were accurate, my god, you take responsibility publicly and reprimand privately. How classless. Let’s not even address the type of person it takes to accept blowjobs from interns, and then lie under oath about it.

Remember how they rode Reagan as being stupid? Gee, now they look to him as one of the greatest presidents.

Remember how Carter deftly brought the economy in for a crash landing?

Remember how Kennedy dabbled in Vietnam, Johnson took us in full bore, and Nixon got us out?

Gee, remember how Saddam killed thousands of Kurds with chemical weapons, and how his boys raped and pillaged the countryside? How he had his political opponents killed?

Why is there no perspective these days? Are people that malleable, that vacant? Do people understand that the “rich” give them jobs, and that the government is an ever-present drag on economic growth? That the deduction on your paycheck is what pays for all the government programs – including Nancy Pelosi’s government aircraft that she insisted upon so she wouldn’t have to fly coach like us vermin because she is so very important? That teachers’ unions have destroyed the public-education system? That Algore has an agenda which is not the betterment of man but the betterment of Al? Geez – even the Clintons hate him! That should tell you something.

I don’t like all the policies of President Bush. I don’t like all the anything of anyone, including myself. But I will say this – I find it more instructive of the speaker than the target when someone suggests that a man that was elected twice to the governorship and the presidency is stupid. No one rises to such heights filling an empty suit. No one. Nobody’s daddy can ensure anything so deeply public. Get a grip on reality. Remember the scene in Forrest Gump when Jenny’s boyfriend slaps her hard in the Black Panther apartment? He later blamed “that lying Johnson” for his own lack of control that resulted in him hitting a woman. Wow. Just frickin’ wow.

What do you need in life? A grocery store – that’s a good thing. A fully stocked grocery store. Ever see how well the Soviet government ran them? Are our grocery stores run by the government? How come North Korea cannot feed its people? A good hospital is needed. How come people come from all over the world to use ours? Where is all the aid going in Africa? Not to the people that need it. How come the best health care in England is in the private – non-government – side? How come Blue Cross/Blue Shield will pay for your cancer treatment but the English government denies the request because it thinks there is not a high enough likelihood for survival?

Show me a single instance of greater government involvement resulting in a more efficient system. There are none. Governments exist for the common defense. Anything beyond that is intrusive and comes at the expense of growth – including building roads. You realize, don’t you, that the tax you pay on gasoline is no different than the tolls you would pay on private roads? Government creates nothing. They take and redistribute – yet private charities do a better job of that with a fraction of the overhead.

People who view government as the answer to anything need an economics course – for the first time or again.

People who think some politician is the answer to anything had better review both the question and the optional answers.

¿Dónde está el cuarto de baño?

Alright, let’s try this. I am still quite cranked, but it has nothing to do with you all – well, most of you at least.

Regardless of writing much of my personal feelings for net publication, I am at heart a private person. Intensely private. I’ve left enough stories in my wake for people to talk for the rest of their lives in some diminishing increment of their pathetic existence. In fact, I’ve faced the wall of blowing my brains all over the forest floor and decided not to because I didn’t want to give the vermin yet another story which either began or ended with, “I knew it would happen.” Talk about pathetic, eh?

I don’t mind being tagged as a vacationing carny. I love that some people tune in just to see if the train wrecked yet. I chuckle when I check my SiteMeter and see locales threaded through my history. I do mind, however, when those given a crow’s nest view of my life abuse the privilege. It is a privilege to be so perched in anyone’s life – there is no aspect of a “right” to it. Privileges, quite by design, can be revoked or, in the alternative, made painfully uncomfortable.

Intensely private. The privilege of the crow’s nest. Painfully uncomfortable. We on the same page? Glad we had this conversation.

Alright. Done. Onward.

New bumper sticker: “Your honor student initiated sex with my dog.”

Found this in my travels: Since light travels faster than sound, is that why
some people appear bright until you hear them speak?

Orlando was good. It was all work – never left the grounds of the conference center. Twelve hundred attendees with a handful of fun folks. Disney dominates that town like something out of Brave New World. It’s frightening. Bus after bus at the airport transported visitors on their pilgrimage to the Land of Manufactured Happy. You gotta know that the Queen of Hearts (or whoever that cranky one is) is a dominatrix in her second job, and that the testosterone-driven unspoken contest each year is to see who can nail the new Alice or Cinderella or Snow White first. Is it a trifecta if you get all three? There is a dark side to Disney, and it is not limited to the frozen cells between Uncle Walt’s ears.

I’ve mentioned this before, but it is worthy of sharing again … you can get a lot of free music through Papaiti. It is nothing more than a specialized google search for indices of mp3s. I just put in an artist name and rarely bother with song titles. Not all hits return music – when you get to a site and within a directory so that you have apparent mp3 files, right click and do “Save As.” If it returns a save as “mp3” you are ready – sometimes it comes back as an html file. Move on to another site. Also, be sure to move up the line on a site by hitting the “parent directory.” Sometimes you tap into the mother lode. I’ve found some good bootleg as well as released music.

I was over on futility closet, and noticed a November 11, 2007 post (tagged, “death”) wherein he lists some “unfortunate grave inscriptions.” I have always enjoyed graveyards. I cannot remember a time when I was not moved to silence as I walked through the resting places. I always notice fresh dirt or flowers as I drive by. I used to wonder what inscription I would want, and I finally realized a few years ago why I could never come up with even a phrase: I am not going to have a gravesite. I want nothing left behind but stories and fading memories. I toyed with the idea of having my ashes made into Christmas ornaments for a few folks that I loved deeply, but that, too, has receded. A few stories, traversing good and bad, a few pics that lose their depth over time and become a two-dimensional rendering of a person the viewer once knew – that is appropriate methinks. “Fade to black, and … cut! On-set break for lunch.”

I have nothing more to say right now. I’ll be your clown later. Have a good day …

greed can form loving relationships

There’s something about good ole fashioned greed that brings a smile to my lips, a sparkle to my eye, and that warm hug inside.

Our story begins in the hometown of ALF, that loveable alienable life force from 20 years ago (that’s 8 to 16 lifetimes in sitcom years depending on the week night upon which the show airs), nestled above Los Angeles and along the sea, Oxnard, California.

In this sleepy salt-laden town operates Haas Automation and, operating no more (albeit I get ahead of myself), its owner, 54-year old Gene Haas.

Haas Automotive is a half-billion dollar operation and employs about 1,000 people, as the “nation's largest computerized machine tool maker.”

How much profit can $500 million generate every year? Well, Gene-boy, or as his cellie may soon be calling him, My Wife, is also the owner of a NASCAR team, fielding a car in each of the Nextel and Busch series, operating as “Haas CNC Racing.” So apparently enough to play in an expensive sport. Is that enough for Genette to be happy?

Alas, no.

“Let’s squeeze another $20 million out of this puppy. Ideas?” And so began a course of events that resulted in several indictments, including the king of all horrors to defense counsel: an unindicted co-conspirator (read, rat).

Here’s a great quote: “The owner of Supermill Inc., a nonexistent Nevada company that allegedly issued fake bills to Haas Automation.” Let’s parse that: Owner of a nonexistent company. He owns something that does not exist. Did they really write that? It’s in the linked article above. I own a unicorn – did I ever tell you that? I own this really super-cool plane-car-boat-barberchair-bar-be-que thingey. Takes you anywhere, gives you a shave and a haircut, and feeds you the best grilled tuna. I didn’t get the optional geisha-girl attachment.

The “nonexistent company” issues “fake bills.” No shit. It doesn’t exist – do you expect it to issue real bills?

Where was I? Oh yeah, so this nonexistent company has a name, Supermill (my unicorn’s name is Fred). Seems the non-entity issued non-real invoices for non-real expenses. (I am sensing a pattern here, although clustering can also be attributed to random chance) There was a total $20 million in fake invoices. All the invoices were issued to Hass Automation, who promptly paid them with non-real money but took very real tax deductions. Ut oh! Add a rat to the recipe and you are, well, fucked. And so will be Genette soon enough. Repeatedly, all the while yelling, “Yes, I’m your bitch! Yes, I’m your bitch!”

Initially, Mrs. Gene pled not guilty (everyone does – you can’t plead otherwise at an arraignment. They have separate proceedings for guilty pleas.), and pointed the finger at his financial guy, claiming with all the gusto of a wronged-man, that the “tax issues ‘revolve around’ the company's former financial officer, John Phillips.”

“Revolve around”? What the hell is that? A denial? No. My shower water “revolves around” the drain. My tires “revolve around” the axel. Ms. Gene’s life is about to “revolve around” the shithole. Here’s a denial: “That cocksucker Phillips did all of this. I knew nothing. I sure hope he doesn’t make bail and is found guilty, then does a long, long time in prison. Cuz if I get my hands around his neck, he’ll be begging for prison time. That miserable, lying prick. I never liked him. FUCK HIM AND EVERYONE THAT LOOKS, SMELLS, OR TALKS LIKE HIM! I HOPE THEY ALL GET BUTTHOLE CANCER” A denial?

Alas, no.

As June 2006 left with its indictments (and rat) a dusty trail in the horizon, now arrives November 2007. Has Miss Genette established her innocence in the face of these vicious allegations by an overzealous prosecutor and that cocksucker Phillips?

Alas, no.

“LOS ANGELES -- A NASCAR team owner was sentenced Monday to two years in federal prison after he pleaded guilty to defrauding the government of more than $34 million in taxes.

“Gene Haas … was ordered to begin serving his term on Jan. 14, the U.S. Attorney's office said.
…

“As part of his plea agreement, Haas paid a $5 million fine, plus more than $70 million in back taxes and interests.”

Poor baby?

Alas, no.

dysfunction at 30,000 feet

Q: “Hey, A, if I left Place X around noon, how long do you think it would take to get to Place Y?”

A: “About 30 minutes.”

Q: “Stop! Why are you telling me that? I’ll figure it out on my own.”

A: “Then why did you ask me?”

Q: “I wasn’t asking. I was thinking.”

A: “But you looked at me, and asked me a question.”

Q: “I didn’t. “

A: “Yes, you did.”

Q: “No, I didn’t.”

A: “Yes, you did. You said, ‘Hey A …’”

Q: “Well, I didn’t mean to.”

A: “Funny way of not meaning to. Funny ‘peculiar,’ as in ‘dysfunctional,’ not in the least ‘ha ha.’”

Q: “OK. I did ask you, but then I decided not to ask you.”

A: “But you asked quite clearly, so I answered.”

Q: “What’s your point?”

A: “I had no need or interest in answering a question. Then you asked one. So I answered it. Now you jump on me for doing what you asked of me.”

Q: “OK.”

A: “You’re fucked up.”

Q: “So are you. That’s why I didn’t want an answer from you.”

A: “Whatever.”

Q: “This conversation is over.”

A: “It never began.”

river stones

There’s an old Jewish story – old being before the Maccabees – about the flat stones found in the southern foothills of the mountains. The stones were clearly river stones, but no river was there, nor had one ever been there to anyone’s knowledge.

In the mountains beyond the foothills were eagles that were particularly vicious hunters. They were patient and nothing escaped their attacks.

As the cold weather came to the regions north of the mountains, the geese would fly south over the mountains. As they honked to each other in flight, their honks also told the vicious eagles of their presence. The eagles would soar to the heights of the geese, and drag their bodies back to the eagles’ nest to be eaten.

Over time, the geese learned to stop and rest before crossing the mountains. They would each take a stone from a riverbed north of the mountains into their mouths. They would then fly over the mountains silently, as the river stone filled their mouths and they could not honk. Since they flew so high and so quietly, the eagles were never aware of their presence.

As the geese cleared the mountains, they would drop the river stones from their mouths. Hence, the river stones in a place where no river ever flowed.

The direct interpretation of the story was that there was a time to speak and a time not to speak. Speaking at the wrong time could have dire consequences.

I like to step back from the story and find a more general meaning. There is a time when some acts are appropriate, and a time when those same acts are not appropriate. Doing an act out of its proper time can have, indeed, dire consequences.

Even more generally, there is a season for acts. Sometimes those seasons end and never come back. Continuing to do an act beyond its season can have dire consequences.

“Dire consequences” can never be looked at too narrowly. Effects can be direct to the actor, direct to those acted upon, or indirect to those two or others beyond that limited group.

This discussion reminds me of teaching Ethics. No act ever occurs in a vacuum. It is as if every act creates energy. The energy of every act ever performed lingers to this day. A bad act today can affect perceptions and decisions decades from now.

I always liked the simple ethics test called, “newspaper headline.” What if your acts were fully described on page one of the newspaper for all to read – friend, family, and foe alike. Would you still do the same act in the same way? Could you defend your actions to your harshest critics? What will you say when the dire consequences become public?

I think I shall be reminded to review my own acts every time I find a flat stone.