Kicked in the Balls? Kick Back!

Hiroshima. One bomb did this.

My first real job was at NVCC in Annandale, Va.  My boss was George T. and he was from West (by God) Virginia. We got on really well, peer to peer, and one day he was venting over something that CFO had done. He put it exactly like this: “I don’t mind when they shit on my head, but it really pisses me off when they rub it in.” Old West (by God) Virginia saying, he said.

Well, the terrorists have shit on the heads of the free world a lot lately, and now they have rubbed it in. In fact, they have Kicked America in the BALLS and laughed about it. They have executed a Son of the Country in the most brutal way, and threatened more of the same. And they expect us to bow and scrape and go away.

BALLS TO THAT is my opinion. Mr. President, time to show us your “package” and bomb these bastards into oblivion. If you think the liberals of the country won’t back you on this, all I can say is that I am one liberal who would. Boots on the ground? No, I don’t want that. But if it takes an invasion to wipe these Mothers off the Face of the Earth, then the whole of the rest of the world better pony up some invaders. A Crusade would be nice. And not some half-assed crappy punitive raid either. The Full Monty.

Image: http://www.worldwar2database.com/sites/default/files/wwii1228.jpg

Sly.

Sly: Crafty or cunning; or, short for Sylvia or Sylvester.

"Vicki and Me celebrating her remission."

I always wondered why some people were called “Sly” when the connotations were not often thought of as nice. People would say “he is a sly bastard” and mean cunning or tricky. Sly Stallone, was he a cunning and tricky bastard? Sly Matthews, was she a cunning and tricky bastard. No, to me she was a warm woman with a generous streak a mile wide who loved to read and liked good beer from time to time.

I “met” her in a strange way though Nicola Griffith. I read all of Nicola's novels and commented on her web page and subsequently joined a Yahoo group started by Nicola. I shared a few things and Sly and a few others responded. Sly was always good for a book recommendation or a comment on something I had written. One of the early memories of Sly was her explaining how "Sylvia" became "Sly". She told me people constantly misspelled "Sylvia" so she just gave up and became "Sly".

 It is really interesting how meeting people has migrated to include ethereal contacts over vast distances of every imaginable metric, and how some of those met in the cyber sphere are friends like others met in person. Some, indeed, better.
The plan to share an hour or two with Sly and to share a brew are now history, and the friendship is now memory. Fond memories to be sure.

Thanks to NG and KE for keeping the list alive, and to all my friends on the list. Sal and I raised a glass (or two) last night to Sly.  It would be a pleasure to not only raise a glass “to” you all, but with you as well. Who knows, maybe someday?

Image: Sly’s Facebook album

Watching Again, Eh God?

OR YOU CAN LOSE YOUR HEAD.

Foley’s Pastor says “There are no words to describe this kind of inhumanity.” Yes Pastor, there are words, and those words are simply “Where Was Your God?” The answer is “Watching”.  Who needs a god like that?

You see the problem here is that the God of Foley was also the God of the killer. So having a conflict of interest, I guess he/she decided to sit this one out and watch from the sidelines.

The news is full of horror every day. And people of faith, good people, write it off as if they really don’t believe that their god is willing/able/interested in doing anything. So we hear “pray for the families.” If it didn’t help to pray for the victim , why would it help to ask for relief for the families? So maybe it goes like this:

“God, we beseech thee to spare the life of (name here). He/she is a godly person and a good person who doesn’t deserve to be beheaded.” The beheading goes ahead as planned so:

“God, since in your merciful wisdom you chose to not save (name here) from beheading, we beseech you to bless the family of (name here) and relieve their pain and suffering.” The pain and suffering doesn't stop so:

“God, you son-of-a-bitch, where are you?” No answer, so:

Got any booze or drugs?

Image: http://www.nice2knownisha.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/trust.jpg

Expression of God’s Love or Man’s Love?

A group of well-trained amateurs and a vibrant leader put on a “gospel” type show on a street corner, praising “God’s Love”. Joyful and energetic. Uplifting. Even inspiring. But to mistake this putative outpouring of “Human Love” for “God’s Love” is a long stretch.

If I were to sing praises to a rock, to profess love for a rock and to worship a rock, that would be an indication of my love for the rock. Unless the rock did something to reciprocate, I would have no measure of the rock’s love for me. See? The point is this: when something awful happens, and people assemble, sing, dance and pray, that is not an expression of “God’s Love”. That is an expression of the people’s faith. God is absent from these events. One might ask “where was God when the boy was gunned down?” Probably watching. But loving the boy? Loving the hundreds of people injured as a result? Loving mankind so much that millions of Believers are butchered every year?

No, to me the answer is clear: If God there be, then God be watching. Not helping. Not intervening and certainly not loving. You don’t “love” someone and watch them suffer according to some “perfect plan” without helping. If there be God, then God has a funny way of “loving” his adoring masses. Makes absolutely no sense at all to me.

Image: http://37.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_laq19bkC4g1qcc4zuo1_500.jpg

Beam Me Up Scotty or Pseudoscience Strikes Again.

"Scientists Report Teleportation of Physical Objects From One Location To Another" (1). And here is another perfect example of real science being used to “prove” pseudoscientific claims. In a a nutshell, quantum “teleportation” occurs when the characteristics of one atom are transferred to another not in the proximity of the first thorough “quantum entanglement”. No discussion of that here, but there are lots of experimental examples of this. Note that the characteristics of the atom are moved, not that atom itself, resulting in the putative physical transfer of the object.

Now jump to a claim that a series of experiments conducted in China in 1981 (2) that claim children were able to teleport physical objects such as watches and horseflies by using mind power and a “fourth dimension”.  China? In 1981? Unsubstiated and not reproducible? Never been done under controlled contitions anywhere else? These claims are TODAY being used to show that actual teleportation is real.

Yes, wacko pseudoscience using a relatively new discovery to “prove” a debunked old one. There is no end to the crap the human mind can come up with. Sometimes, though, the crap turns to gold. Not in this case though. Pure CRAP.

1. http://www.collective-evolution.com/2014/01/16/scientists-report-teleportation-of-physical-objects-from-one-location-to-another/

2. Ziran Zazhi (Nature Journal) tilted “Some Experiments on the Transfer of Objects Performed by Unusual Abilities of the Human Body” (Shuhuang et al., 1981)

Image: http://www.hayadan.org.il/images/content3/2013/01/ST-TOS-transport-580x411-500x354.jpg

And The World Watches

European invaders promoted genocide on Native American people in the first wave of conquest. “Americans” tried to finish off the genocide on indigenous people from the beginnings of the country. Germany killed more than 8 million civilians, mostly Jews. Russia killed more than 20 million people, many Jews, mostly ethnic Russians. Cambodians killed millions of Cambodians in the “killing fields” of Cambodia. Rwandans killed millions of Rwandans. Bosnian Serbs killed hundreds of thousands of ethnic Croatians. Sudanese militants ethnically cleansed millions of Sudanese civilians. Nigerians  ethnically cleanse Nigerians. The Syrian government is killing Syrian civilians by the thousands.

And now, ISIS is killing thousands of civilians in a move to ethnically cleanse their “Caliphate”.

Any common thread here?  You bet. Genocide.

Any other? Oh Yes!!!!. The world WATCHED AND DID NOTHING. And the world is watching the Middle East now and doing nothing. The murdering Islamic State “soldiers” are killing anyone they want to: Every ethnic or religious group different from them, and any Muslim who is viewed as “moderate” by the uneducated and ignorant “soldiers”.

AND THE WORLD DOES NOTHING.

What should the world do? Get together and stand up for the battered groups and fight against the aggressors. It was never truer than now, that if you don’t prevent some hostile aggressor from taking your neighbor, you will be next on the list, and there will not be a neighbor to help you.

I can’t begin to explain how deeply divided I am over all this. We lost over 4000 lives in Iraq, and left a failed state. Now, the results of that are easily seen: Chaos in the Middle East. A band of Islamic extremists taking over vast parts of 2 countries and looking for more. Next may be Iran or Jordan. Then what? Somewhere a fight must start, and the Nations of the World must win. All the nations. The big powers like Russia, China, the European Union, Great Britain, the USA, Brazil and others.

Like an infestation of rats in an apartment house, everybody has to cooperate to exterminate the problem, and not leave someplace as a safe haven.

And yes, the soldiers of freedom will once again die and families will grieve. The alternative is so much worse it doesn’t bear considering.

These people will not stop until they get the World. Unless they are stopped once and for all times. How? What do you always do with rats? And the world should get rid of the Rats who are paying the bill for the Islamic State to  prosecute a war of terror. I wonder who those Rats are?

Image: http://images.smh.com.au/2009/12/27/1000767/rats1-420x0.jpg

A Tale of Two Husbands.

Once there were two boys who were very close friends. They went to school together, played after school together and went fishing and poking together on weekends. They were tree frogs. One day after they had graduated from High School, Greenie said to Pale, “You know, Pale, all of our sisters and brothers are already married, and we alone are not. Isn’t that strange?” Pale thought for a moment and said, “No, Greenie, that isn't strange at all. You see, we love each other, and because we are both men, we are not allowed to get married.” Greenie said “Well Pale, that is just plain wrong. We love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together so why shouldn't we get married?”

Pale didn't have an answer, so they went to the courthouse and asked the clerk, an officious Blue jay, if they could get a marriage license. “Of COURSE NOT you dumb frogs. You are both men, and men can’t marry each other.” “Why not?” asked Pale. “WHY NOT? Uhhhh, I am not really sure why not, now that you ask. We better ask the Magistrate. He is a wise old Badger and will surely know."

So the three of them went to see the Magistrate, who laughed out loud when he heard the question. “Married. Men to men? Never been done before, that’s why. Never been done before”, and he went back to sleep.

Pale and Greenie then went to see their grandfrogs who were bathing in a nearby pool. After discussing the problem, Pale’s grandfrog said ‘You know Pale I really don’t know why you shouldn't or couldn't marry Greenie. He is a fine boy and would make good husband. And Greenie’s grandfrog agreed and said "Let’s go talk to your fathers and mothers." So off they went. Pale’s and Greenie’s  fathers and mothers agreed that there should be no reason at all why he and Greenie shouldn’t and couldn’t get married, and they all marched off to the Magistrate’s Office.

When confronted with all the frogs from both families, the Magistrate said “Well, I can’t find any law that speaks to this question, so I will just do it.” And he did.

And they lived happily ever after, husband and husband, in a life of peace and tranquility. And the best part? Because they had the courage to seek their love’s ambition, many other couples did the same, and the world was a happier place. Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do, don’t you?

Image: http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/x/two-australian-tree-frogs-7821609.jpg

A Tale of Old Friends and Regrets

Once upon a time, there was an old Grandma skunk, known just as Miz Skunk. She had lived a long and relatively happy life in the woods near where she was born. She had many grandchildren and a few living children. Her memory was not as good as it once was, and she had to ask “What’s your name again sweetie?” more than she ought to.

One day she was walking to the store when she ran into an old friend, Miz Possum. Miz Possum said “Nice day isn’t it Miz Skunk?” and Miz Skunk said “Yes it is. Yes it is. What’s your name again sweetie?”

Well, Miz Possum was a bit put out by this. After all, they had been friends for years and years, and the thought that Miz Skunk didn’t even know who she was really made her mad. She just “Humphed” and waddled off. “Humph? That’s a funny name” said Miz Skunk, and continued on to the store. All her groceries fit in a small bag (Old Skunks don’t eat all that much) and she started on home. Along the way she took the wrong turn and got so completely lost that she was going around in circles. A couple of youngsters saw her and started to laugh. “Silly old Miz Skunk” they called. “Where you going Miz Skunk” they called. Miz Skunk heard the derision in their laughter and just curled up in a ball and cried. “I am LOST!! LOST!! I can’t find my way home and I am frightened.”

One of the kids ran off to get Miz Possum to try to help. When she heard about Miz Skunk, she thought “Lawd, that could be me. I must help her quickly.” She waddled quickly to the place where Miz Skunk lay curled up and said “Miz Skunk? Miz Skunk? I am here now and everything will be fine Miz Skunk? Miz Skunk?” But Miz Skunk didn’t move. “MIZ SKUNK!” cried Miz Possum. “MIZ SKUNK TALK TO ME!” But Miz Skunk was gone. Her heart had given out. And Miz Possum never got a chance to tell her her name.

Image: https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2369/2013784377_29f8de2fb7.jpg

Lessons Forgotten from a Mother’s Pouch

A bunch of young animals were in school one day when the teacher, Mr. Owl, told them about the bad weather on the way. He said an egret had seen thunder clouds moving in and heavy rain and wind. Mr. Owl and the Principal, Mrs. Turkey, decided to let the children out early so they could be home when the storm struck. He told all the children to run, fly or slither home as quickly as possible.

It didn’t take long for the classroom to empty, and soon Mouse and Snake and a few others were quickly moving through the field near the school. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck nearby and the rain started to fall very heavily.  The children were very frightened and tried to hide in an old hollow log. Just as Mouse ran into the log a low voice called from inside “Get out of my Home, you dratted noisy children.” Mouse looked up and saw two red eyes and a mouthful of sharp teeth. Old Mr. Possum looked at Mouse and said, “Oh, the warmbloods can stay if they must, but I won’t have any coldbloods in my house. You can’t trust them.”

Mouse looked behind him and saw that the other mice, a shrew and a vole were pushing ahead, while his friend Snake and the other coldbloods were shaking with fear. “Please Mr. Possum. Snake and the others are my friends from school and they are scared. Please let them share your log? Please?” Mr. Possum growled “NOT ON YOUR LIFE, BOY!”

About that time it really started to rain hard, and the log began to fill up with water. Mr. Possum began to mumble about the end of the world, and Mouse realized that he was as scared as the children. Just when things looked really bad, Snake poked his head in the opening and said “Mouse! There is another log a few feet away that is higher and bigger than this one. Hurry before it is too late. So all the children hurried to the new log except Mouse, who stayed behind. When Mr. Possum noticed that he and Mouse were alone he said “Well boy, why don’t you run off with the other brats?” Mouse said “Because I want you to come too. If you stay here you might drown, and that would be a shame.” “Why should you care what happens to a grumpy old codger like me?” “Because you are an animal like the rest of us and you must have some kindness left in you after all the years you have been here.”

Well, Mr. Possum was speechless. Talked to like that from a whippersnapper of a mouse of all things. He said “Boy, you have no idea, just no idea at all what my life has been like. Chased by dogs and cats. Laughed at by humans and chased by them until I fainted, hunted by coyotes and foxes. It has been a hard life and I am afraid of dying. I think that is why I am so very ornery. I strike out so no one gets close to me. Please, Mouse, just go let me alone to die.”

At that Mouse shouted (the wind was getting very noisy) “NO WAY! YOU REMIND ME OF MY GRANDPA, AND I WOULD NEVER LEAVE HIM BEHIND. NOW COME ON OR WE WILL BOTH DIE!!!”

With that, Mouse bit Mr. Possum’s tail. Mr. Possum jumped up and chased Mouse right out of the log and into the nearby higher one. When he realized that he had been tricked into saving himself he was ashamed, and when he felt all the children hugging him, yes, even the coldbloods, he began to cry. He had forgotten the first lesson his mother taught him while he was still in her pouch: Treat all animals with kindness and respect and you will get kindness and respect in return. After the storm was over, Mr. Possum escorted all the children to their homes and explained why they were late for supper. He never felt better in his life, and had made many friends. Several months later, Mr. Possum died quietly in his sleep in his new big log, dreaming of all the children who were his friends. He knew he was the luckiest possum in the world, and the children knew that he had loved them all.

Image: http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y2/bob--o/P1010183.jpg

“What the Hell is Wrong with You People?”

First, let me assure you that I am NOT talking about any particular person or family. That out of the way let me rant on. What I want to know is “What the Hell is Wrong with You People?” Every day I see postings on Facebook and Twitter, and get emails from people about it, and hear about it directly from people.

What is it you ask? Some variant of this: “Yea. I am going to be a grandmother (or grandfather) again!! Isn’t that GREAT?”   Well no, it actually isn’t great. And here is why: The world already has too many people to sustain in the long run, defined as the next 50 – 100 years. Resources are being consumed at a much higher rate than is sustainable: Water, fossil fuels, farm land etc.  Pollution is growing at alarming rates of increase. Wars, famines and plagues abound. Climate is changing so fast that the world as we know it will be lucky to survive the next 50 years.

In other words, the best case scenarios show a bleak picture for the next 5 to 10 decades. Some predict utter ruin. Now, given this likely world, why would anyone want to bring another child into what will certainly be a miserable, dangerous and depleted world? Do you have any idea of the suffering the human population will experience in the next 10 decades? And grandbabies will suffer the most because they will live in it. They will be screwed in so many ways it is almost impossible and unbearable to contemplate. Why would anyone want to have their kin suffer like the next generations are going to suffer?

I know your answer: “Never going to happen". Either 1. God will save us or 2. Science is full of crap and none of this will happen or 3. Maybe in the rest of the world but not here or 4. Some other totally absurd excuse for looking the other way.

Well folks, it will happen, and if God (if there is a god) gave a crap we wouldn’t be in this cesspool, and as for the other excuses, they are all misguided. Science is right about this; it is already happening here and there is no way out.

I therefore repeat: “What the Hell is Wrong with You People?”

Image: http://www.sfgate.com/blogs/images/sfgate/parenting/2007/07/26/SayNo-Babies.png