Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.
November 9, 2008
Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.
November 6, 2008
Two days after the general election. A new President. So many things to contemplate, and all I can say is “Thank God it’s over.”
In this post I will now give you my top three reasons why I am gleeful that this election season is over.
1 - I can have a conversation with my wife and not see her and her see me as a political enemy. I mentioned this to her the other day and she looked greatly offended. I also have to question why I felt that way, but suffice it to say I know I did. My wife and I are very different people who have world views which are antithetical to each other. She has often used the analogy that our relationship was similar to the Celt mythos of the Christian king of old marrying the “daughter of the tribe”. I bet you know which side of the political fence she is on from that statement alone. In most cases this causes our ideas to be encountered and our world view has an impact on the other in that a new view is formed. A synthesis of ideas occurs, with levels of respect borne from each others thesis. I know you philosophers out there are seeing the Hegellian Dialect at play.
2 – I don’t have to defend George W. Bush anymore to anyone or to myself. In many ways I still kinda like W, although I really am finding it pretty hard to find myself in agreement with many of the things he has done. I don’t know if that is just good old hard core political loyalty, or perhaps I do see something there. More than likely it is that I hate Monday morning quarterbacks, and since I was in the 45% in ’00 and the 50.6% in ’04 that voted for him, and that at the time based on what I was told, I supported the Iraq War as did most Americans, and in principle I like a lot about NCLB, and that in principle – which caused a lot of ruckus, I saw a lot to like about his immigration reform proposal, I figured it would be churlish to kick him while he was down. However, in all honesty I’m tired of offering apologetics for the POTUS. I’m tired of being made to feel that I am stupid, even though I have an IQ of 140, because I still support the guy. I’m glad he’s gone, and that history will be the evaluator of his time in office. I’ll also likely be dead if he has a Harry Truman repeat of history, and in the rear view mirror of fifty years is seen as a damned fine President. Then again, 96 isn’t impossible. Time to lose weight and do more exercise, and if history doesn’t bear this theory out, I’ll have the benefit of being a greater burden on my grandchildren.
3 – The country can reunite - even if my guy lost. I have a hunch that there will be some changes, and probably I won’t like them all. That is the reason why we have elections. I also don’t think that this will become Stalinist Russia with all the drabbery in between. One of the worst scenarios imaginable would have been a 269 to 269 tie with Congress deciding the POTUS. True, the evil part of my nature which would have revelled in the national hysteria would have been amused. It also would have been historic, and if President Elect Obama had emerged through the process as POTUS so much the better I suppose if you like more history. However, one historical first will be good enough. I am sure there will be a healthy debate about things in the near future. I also believe that while one can run a campaign on ideology, governance requires a bit more cooperation. It has been said that democracy is the government of the half-loaf. I think that some on the polar extremes may have less cause for fear and rejoicing than they may have thought this past Tuesday. Then again, I could be wrong.
May 11, 2007
This week was National Teacher Appreciation Week. I actually received a few gestures of thanks, that I wasn’t expecting but am thankful for (particularly the candy bars on Monday). However, I think that my cats must have been reading the letter that I brought home from the PTA because when I woke up today there were messages from them to me.
I was so impressed that I decided to share my cats attempts at haiku in honor of National Teacher Appreciation Week. However, I think they just were trying to rationalize their rancid behavior towards me. My dog, Liesel, sadly can’t write haiku, but she’d express similar sentiments if she could. I guess there is only so much a teacher can do!
Sorry I am mean
to you. It’s just that you smell
like the dog. Sorry.
Sorry I chewed your
important note from the
school. But it was fun.
Thank you for your school-
bag. It’s a nice place to sit.
Sorry for the fur.
Sorry I peed on
your agenda, old boy. I
couldn’t help myself.
Sorry I puked on
your tie. But you left it on
the table. Fair game.
May 3, 2007
So, you want to know where you stand and how you can get that cool little icon like I have on my blog?
Well, just go to this site and take the quiz. I would put no opinion if you are not sure about something.
Please post your results, and you get BIG TIME BONUS POINTS for reasonableness if you score Moderate, Conservative or Liberal! I “hope” I have constructed a place where divergent views are allowed and where we gain from seeing each other’s perspective. I also hope that sometimes someone will say, I see your point, or something like that.
So often politics are too personal, so maybe this would at least bring back agreeable discussion and dissent to the forefront.
I’m posting this on all topics to hopefully get maximum participation.
IF you wish to take the quiz it is here.
April 27, 2007
April 26, 2007
I don’t talk too much about Rosie O’Donnell. I don’t care for her too much, never felt she was particularly funny, didn’t really care about her trials to adopt children, and when she and Donald Trump, not really my favorite person on the planet, the row it was reminiscent of choosing sides in the Iran – Iraq War. However, even Trump wins over O’Donnell in an easy slam dunk. The inane “Loose Change” trash she spewed with some regularity on her shows, speak rather more loudly than her obnoxious voice about her intelligence and agenda. Her views about Roman Catholics and Christianity in general were rather disturbing, and the only thing that is disconcerting is that Disney and ABC let her get away with it.
So, she and ABC/Disney have parted ways. Is anyone shocked that there was problems with the contract? Did the lovey-dovey relationship with Barbara Walters go bad? Last week her statements about admittedly cursing at her children had to have raised a few eyebrows to Disney executives who basically market to exploiting the image if you don’t take your kids to their theme parks at least a dozen times in their lifetime you are somehow guilty of child abuse. Family value advocates need to remember that Disney didn’t get into the flap about the smears on Catholicism and Christianity sponsored by their programs next time they are planning a “family” vacation, and the information at this time shows it was really an issue over length of contract, ABC/Disney wanted three years, which wouldn’t show that Disney was overly concerned with their faux family image. For those that think Disney was more than happy to pull the plug on Ms. O’Donnell, certainly, the last straw may have been when she grabbed her crotch and said “Eat me” at a recent luncheon.
Will Rosie end up somewhere, probably, but companies may be wary about signing her onboard. She and Imus should get together. They truly deserve each other, as there are probably not two more people whose own self loathing express itself in diatribes against everyone better than those two miscreants.
April 25, 2007
When we decided to go on the animal adopting binge I had a feeling that two would be good. I am not really a cat person. I searched high and low for the perfect kitty for my wife. I knew she wanted a wife, and while I probably would have preferred a dog, I knew that would go nowhere. Dogs are a lot more work than cats anyhow, so it worked out well.
I had gone to a number of places and looked at more than a few posts to inquire about adopting a cat, and let me tell you that some of the people I ran into were a bit on the whacko side. Hey, that’s okay, I was actually amused by their antics, but when one wanted to have a cat hypnotist come to my house with the potential adoptee, I said the hell with this and went back to getting two cats, breed didn’t matter, for my wife. She really wanted a Maine Coon, and that meant as much to me as if she had said she wanted a Serengali Wazzu Catch me if you Can Cat. A cat was a cat, nothing more nothing less. However, she would also settle for a Norweigian Forest Cat, which Peter and Frankie were. I went to Bide-A-Wee paid my money, and got my cat – no cat hypnotist involved. However, I had made a few calls and sure enough one of them came through.
I had seen this add about “Sylvester” which ironically was Frankies old name. He was named Sammy on the car ride home. Now this was a BIG cat. I man Peter was big, but this guy was just huge, and I had to have him. See, if I couldn’t have a dog, I’d have to have a big cat. So Sammy was added to the Pack – and he was perfect, because the idea of a Cat Pack came about while we were watching a movie, which meant that it would be more than two cats. Now, please don’t call me a racist because we got a “black cat” to be our Sammy Davis Jr. Sammy was in trouble in his home. He was with a cat afficianado and was daily having the cat crap knocked out of him by the other cats. Even though he was big, they ganged up on him. He had been in a feral community for the first year of his life, and was more than a little bit neurotic, even by cat standards for the experience. I saw him and loved him. He was huge, and was pretty playful. Sammy is just a cool cat. He LOVES to play, he also LOVES to eat. When he sees meat he snarls and when you feed him some you can just hear the wild animal that lies under the surface as he lets out a little cat snarl and hiss as he bites. He also HATES to be held or kissed, which means I have to every once in awhile, preferably when he is sleeping, pick him up and give him bunches of kisses. I can just see the disdain on his face as he must be saying “Fag, Fag, Fag” he must be Anne Coulter like, over an over again.
He has the worst social skills of all the cat pack, and has been beaten up, even though he’s the biggest more than once. He, Peter and Frankie came to use declawed, and so the other two, Angie and Dean have a not so insignificant advantage when the fur flies, and when you have five cats, the fur flies often.
For awhile we had two lovebirds along with the five cats and our faithful Rotty, Liesel. Sammy was the hunter of the lovebirds. He would wait outside their cage, and literally drool. God, it was so great to see him trying to open the cage, and every once in awhile while the cage was being cleaned, a lovebird would escape and then the fun would really begin.
Once he got one of them. The bird had skipped one of the 12 steps in bird cage transfers and Sammy was ready.
Eyes wide, a look of joy and rapture on his face, and a very terrified bird in his mouth, he took off for my office with his prey.
Me screaming, Liesel frantic, Dean and Angie close on his heels, I managed to rescue Sid before he could get hurt. Thankfully he didn’t break skin on him. He was, I believe, trying to find a quiet place to eat him in private. It was probably the best 20 second of Sammy’s often neurotic life. Of all the cats, Sammy liks the dog Liesel the most. They are buds.
I present Sammy Davis Jr. for your viewing pleasure.
As you can see, he LOVES to play.
April 24, 2007
Actually this is hijacked from a blog that my wife mostly ran, but where I contributed. It is also a chance for all readers of my missives to learn a bit about the life behind the blogger.
My wife and I are animal lovers, big time. A couple of years back we were going through empty nest syndrome. My eldest had graduated college, my second was in college, my other two were going to move with their mother to Indiana, and my other son was in Massachusetts. We had the itch, bad. We adopted…cats. Lots of them.
And so, I will be posting about the past and present joys and trevails of “The Cat Pack”, being the true tales of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr, Peter Lawford and Angie Dickinson, and yes, that is their names. Occasional references will be made of Liesel, the mean Rottweiler, also adopted, and the three pieces of furniture/slaves, myself my wife Terri and my son Christian.
Sometimes this blogging can get you depressed, so hopefully these will make me laugh, and maybe those of you who need a yuck can click and chuckle. Besides, I may gather a whole new audience, and baby, it’s all about traffic!
So, first I spose we’ll have to introduce you to the CatPack in order that they were adopted.
First is Peter (Lawford) AKA Tons of Fun. He is by far the biggest A**hole cat I’ve ever met. Imagine an elderly English Lord in a rather bad mood, who passes gas.
This is Peter (Lawford).
Peter was adopted from Bide-A-Wee along with his brother Frank (Sinatra) AKA Frankie. If Peter is the billious type, Frankie is his opposite, not just in size but in personality. Frankie is about the friendliest cat I’ve ever met, he’s just loving life. However, He also really likes to kill small things!
This is Frankie (Sinatra)
We’ll introduce the rest of “The Cat Pack” later. So you will get to look forward to meeting Sammie (Davis Jr), Angie (Dickinson) and Dean (Martin).
However, these cats are VERY talented. We didn’t know this, but found out very shortly after owning them. They actually can write – even haiku. Imagine our surprise when we found paw prints on our keyboard, and printouts of letters they had written to Bide-A-Wee about their new home. Don’t believe me, well I submit these documents to you all as proof.
Found these letters on my computer today. Even without opposable thumbs, the boys still can type. Imagine that.
Dear Bide-a-Wee, I just wanted to drop you a line to let you know I’m doing very well. I’ve been putting on a little weight, and I have all that I need or want to eat. I spend most of my days in my new mommy’s office watching the birds and the squirrels outside. I get brushed every day and my coat looks beautiful. My mean brother can no longer steal all of my food or beat me up, so I am very happy. Thank you for helping me find my new home.
Frankie (formerly Sylvester)
I am writing to express extreme displeasure with my adoption. I have very happily spent the last six years of my life reigning supreme over my brother and stealing all his food. The terrible people you sent me to have changed all that. My brother hangs out with that horrid woman and I can no longer hit him upside the head whenever I feel like it. But the worst is the food situation. As you can see I am wasting away — starving to death! Before I ate not only my food, but my brother’s as well. Why must I now only have one serving of food at mealtimes? Unacceptable! I demand you take me away before they starve me down to 20 pounds!
Peter (formerly Taz)
PS. They brush me far too often.
April 22, 2007
Hat tip to Little Miss Chatterbox
Okay, Alec Baldwin has a wee problem with anger management. Here is one solution offered by Jerry Seinfeld to George Constanza when talking about his issue with rage.
“You know you really need some help. A regular psychiatrist couldn’t even help you. You need to go to like Vienna or something. You know what I mean? You need to get involved at the University level. Like where Freud studied and have all those people looking at you and checking up on you. That’s the kind of help you need. Not the once a week for eighty bucks. No. You need a team. A team of psychiatrists working round the clock thinking about you, having conferences, observing you, like the way they did with the Elephant Man. That’s what I’m talking about because that’s the only way you’re going to get better.”
Not a bad idea. However, while Baldwin’s tirade was wrong, so are social policies that use a divide the spoils mentality when awarding custodial rights to one parent and often exclude the other.
I know I have “thought” similar things when my children wouldn’t “visit” me but sure didn’t mind asking for a present or a check for a trip.
Too bad Alec couldn’t be like the father he portrayed on Outside Providence. I kind of liked that crusty Blue Collar Dad.
Maybe a better solution, to go with all my tongue in cheek posts about adoption and ebay is to combine the ideas. Put the kids of bad divorces up for bid on E-Bay. This will not only make everyone, particularly the child ungrateful, but will cut out the middle man in the adoption for profit/human trafficking corporation. See, a market based answer for a social problem! Just make sure ALL those that bid have a pool and a pony and get the book The Adopted Family written in 1965.