Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Ever See a Photo of a Shot Dead American Child?

Ok, here it comes. Right between the eyes. Look at the photos below:
 These are dead foreign children killed in war-related action. Their pictures were ALL OVER the foreign press. Not ours though.

Here are photos of dead AMERICAN CHILDREN:

They look dead to you? No? Thats because our media doesn't show the real results of shooting a child. Why not? You think that JUST MAYBE you would be more outraged if you saw the little guy on the left or the cute little girl on the right blown up by an bullet? You think you MIGHT get a little pissed off at the MORONS who want total access to guns and no accountability in their use and storage?
You are being MANAGED by the National Rifle Association and Billionaires in the Arms Industry.
But I guess you like it, 'cause you never raise a finger in protest. Until your kid gets killed. Then it it way too late. Sorry.

Image: http://www.juliagorin.com/images/croatia/Borovo7.jpg
Image: https://socioecohistory.files.wordpress.com/2009/11/shotgazanchild.jpg
Image:https://i.ytimg.com/vi/8tCFcDurVvM/hqdefault.jpg
Image:https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQTLkaskH-gXPlPql82BofzziG8wW5ZtI-bsfFVWD1k7YCciF-X
Image:https://shootfromthelefthip.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/child-shot-channel-18.jpg?w=634

Pregnant in the Summer and Barefoot in the Winter

Women. You don’t get it do you?

No, some of you don’t get it at all. You are being played for suckers by the Conservative Right. The fabricated “abortion” issue is a brilliant scam to distract attention from the real agenda of the Conservative Right: put women back in the home, out of the workplace and under the strict control of men. Pregnant in the Summer and barefoot in the Winter. Yes Virginia, there is a war on women being waged. A war to turn back the clock on women’s rights all the way from equal pay (Republicans voted against) and voting rights (Republicans tried to prevent) to health services such as pap tests and breast exam (Republicans voted to eliminate funding) to reproductive health services such as HIV testing and other VDs and birth control (Republicans voted against), and yes, abortion services (Republicans voted against). And they voted against the ACA which has provided health insurance for millions of women and children, in addition to men.
This is a pretty poor voting record when it comes to Women’s Issues. They also voted against any legislation that would benefit minorities.
Dead Children in Afganistan
But, they voted heavily to support the NRA agenda which is apparently to kill as many Americans as Possible. So I guess we need an act called the NRA CAP act (as in “Cap his Ass).
That they would go for.

Image: https://shootfromthelefthip.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/child-shot-channel-18.jpg?w=634
Image: http://www.stopwar.org.uk/images/news/afghan_children_killed_by_US_460.jpg

Monday, June 22, 2015

Forgive? Not me. Not yet.


Proud Southern Boy.
I was sitting in the kitchen, coffee in hand, listening to the news about Charleston, Kabul, and other hot spots in the world. Of particular interest is the outpouring of Forgiveness for the murdering little bastard Roof. Coward too. Apparently ran out of bullets so his attempt to shoot himself failed. Good. Because I don’t forgive him. And a lot of people won’t forgive him. But back to forgiveness.

I am amazed that the people closest to the killings are pouring out forgiveness. And the community. And people all over. I love that people have this capacity to forgive. I wish they would forgive gay people for falling in love, or mentally handicapped people for being different, or black people for being black.
My problem is easy to see isn’t it? Anyone with the deep and abiding capacity to forgive a murdering little shit should also be on the vanguard of all the social actions to right the wrongs of society and “forgive” if needed. Now don’t come back on me with “You don’t have to forgive someone for something genetic” or whatever. I know that. I am talking about the philosophy of people blaming innocent carriers of difference and discriminating on that basis. For example: you are gay? No marriage in My Church. You are black? No business in the pool. You are Hispanic? No business in this country.
No, people are mostly hypocritical and cherry pick what, who and why they will confer forgiveness. WWJD?  Forgive with unconditional love. Would that all of you could do the same. I certainly cannot. But at least I know what I should be doing. Forgive the murdering little shit. Gulp. Nope. Not yet.

Image: http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2015/06/20/17/29CF022100000578-3132670-image-m-57_1434817272168.jpg

Friday, June 19, 2015

Thanks EB for the Memories.


When I started my teaching career in the early 1980s at what is now Thomas University, I had a good number of adult returning students, mostly women. Most of my thousands of students are fondly remembered as groups, and a few are remembered as individuals. Such was a student I will call EB. EB was a returning adult woman, married with children and seeking a life change. She wanted to be a counselor of some kind, undefined at that early stage, but she had a clear goal. She did indeed become a counselor. Because she was older than most of the other students and I am rather a social person, we often talked after class about this and that. I learned about her children in broad terms, and in fact her daughter was a student of mine much later.
Why did EB stand out? Hard to say exactly, but two things made her indelible to me. One was a conversation we had one day after class, as we were talking about spiritual things. She was comfortable enough with me to ask if I believed in paranormal events, and I said not really, but had had a few experiences that I couldn't explain with rational science. I described my one and only Out of Body Experience (not on drugs or anything else) and we talked about it. She then shared a vision she had and the outcome. She told me she had “seen” her pantry floor covered with broken jars of home canned green beans. She had no broken jars in her pantry. Sometime later, she gave some jars of beans to a friend who then had an accident on the highway and broken jars of green beans were all over the trunk of the car. She was convinced that she had “seen” this ahead of time, but didn’t anticipate the event. This bothered her as I recall.
The other thing about EB was her voice. At times when she spoke I heard two voices, not one. Very unusual and only from her. This was not a few times, but many. I even went to an ear specialist to get a checkup and was put through a number of tests including a brain scan, and all was normal. It was her voice I was hearing, not some pathology of mine. I have no idea what that was all about, but clearly I have never forgotten it.
So where does all this lead? A few days ago I heard from her daughter that she is in hospice for untreatable cancer, and is close to her end. I have not seen here for many years, but her personality and quirkiness have left a deep impression on me. Her passing will be a sad thing for the family she leaves behind, but if she was right about paranormal things, she will be around in one way or another for a very long time. I would welcome a visit myself.

Image: http://noelanirodriguez.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/Crystal_Ball___Stock_by_Sassy_Stock-300x298.jpg

Sunday, June 7, 2015

I Didn’t Choose It

She looks like my dryad
The world I live in. Not the world at large, but the one I personally inhabit. This world is one where everything has a name or spirit or is deserving of respect. I didn’t wake up one morning and decide this. It just is where I am. This world is touched by communicating with it, either verbally or by silently acknowledging and silently conversing. I might see a hawk in the sky and say “Morning Hawk”, or just think “What a beautiful bird you are Hawk” and go on with the morning. I might walk by an old tree and say (or think) “Hello old one. You have a fine crop of leaves. I wonder what you have seen in your life.”
No, I don’t get answers in any traditional way. I don’t hear (usually) voices in my head. But sometimes just a whisper of “I see you”.
Being in touch with the world this way opens up all kinds of dialogues and discussions. Trip on a rock in the path and swear “Bloody rock!” and I might just think “Well, don’t blame me: You are the clumsy bastard who tripped.” Was that really the rock? Probably not, but maybe? Hell if I know. But I know this: I have lots to say to the things around me, and the things around have lots to say in return. You just have to listen.
I noticed shortly after moving to the current house that a medium sized beech tree had a woman’s face looking at me from the base of the trunk. From a distance of 30 feet or so she was perfect. Looked a little like the image of “Ruby Tuesday”. Big hair, pretty face. But when I walk up to the tree, she disappears. Take a picture and no woman. So I decided she must be a dryad. Shy but interested. She watches the yard and takes note of what goes on. I talk to her sometimes when I am out that way, but she never answers back. Not yet anyway. But from the kitchen she is reassuringly there, looking pretty and watching.
Say what you will about me. Crazy? Deluded? Fantasizing? Normal (no, never that) or keyed into the world like few others. Remember that the old pagan religions of the world considered everything to be animate and reachable with the right spirit. Maybe more of you should look to the world around you and try to get in touch. The next time your car dings to remind you to take the keys, try saying “thank you”. Or the next time you see a bug crossing your path say “Morning bug. Going to be a great day you think?” As an old lady I once knew would say “It may not help, but it wouldn’t hurt.”

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Operation Jade Helm: A Confederacy of Dunces (with apologies to the original)

The are called "war games" after all
I will admit that I can be surprised from time to time. But I cannot be surprised by the level of stupidity of some Americans. The cooked up “panic” over a long planned military exercise in Texas is a great example. You know the details: Closed Walmarts to be used for detention  centers; martial law to be declared in Texas and other southwest states; Obama to declare himself a 3rd term that will last for 5 years. And FEMA is setting up detention camps. All with absolutely no factual basis at all. And the Texas governor mobilizes the Texas National Guard for standby status.  And Chuck Norris joins Ted Cruz in the conspiracy watch (1).
What a bunch of incredible morons. I suppose Obama will use all the guns he had confiscated to take over Texas? (NONE) The amazing thing is that thousands of Texans and other conservatives actually believe this. Not surprising, just amazing.
Now, if it happens I will be the first to admit they were right and I was horribly wrong. But it won’t happen, and then what? Well, the conspiracy morons will claim that their “vigilance” kept it from happening. What MORONS!!!

Sunday, April 19, 2015

A Particularly Horrible Fate


On a very

gloomy afternoon, Chipmunk and Weasel were playing “catch the tail” in a big hollow log. They would run in circles trying to catch each other’s tail and yell “GOTCHA” if they succeeded. After a while, they sprawled on the floor, panting, and decided they needed to get out and do some exploration.
So, being young and adventurous, they decided to go to the forbidden “farm” (although they didn’t know what a “farm” was) on the edge of the Valley. Off they went scampering through the wet undergrowth to the meadow. On the other side of the meadow they could just see the farm mounds (we call them houses, but to the animals of the Valley, humans lived in elaborate mounds). They quickly ran across the meadow and sneaked around one of the mounds that seemed to be full of large white birds. “What kind of birds are those” asked Chipmunk? “Don’t know” said Weasel, “I never saw birds like that. All they do is walk around and peck the ground.” They moved on and saw another structure they recognized as a cage from some of the storied the grandpas tell on summer nights under the stars. “Look’, said Weasel, “A cage with a rabbit it in. Let’s climb up and see if we know him.”  
They got up on the cage and sure enough there was a rabbit inside, sad and lonely. “Hey Rabbit!” called Chipmunk. “How did you get in there?” “I was born here” said the rabbit. “My mother was a prisoner and had lots of babies before she died. I am the only one left. The human here is keeping me to eat me, I think.”  “EAT YOU” cried both of the explores together. “That is terrible! We will get you out if we can.” And just then they heard a loud noise and a big splinter of wood flew off the side of the cage. “RUN” said the rabbit. “Here comes the human with his killing thing.”
But the explorers didn’t run. They hid under the cage in an old rat burrow and waited until the human left. Then, they crept up to the cage door and began chewing on the wooden peg holding the door shut. “Hurry” cried Rabbit, “He may come back any minute”. So they chewed and chewed and finally the peg dropped out of the hole, and the door swung open. “Quick. Jump down and run with us. We will hide in the meadow, and then run into the Valley where you will be safe.”
Off they ran. Chipmunk, Weasel and Rabbit, their new friend.
Later, during the storytelling, they told of their adventure and introduced their new friend to the others. An old grannie rabbit volunteered to teach the young rabbit about surviving in the Valley. Chipmunk and Weasel were in trouble for going to the farm but were praised for their bravery for rescuing the young rabbit. They were given a one day “Time out”, no play time, and had to go to bed without their supper.
After the time out day was over, they got together with their new friend and played all summer. They never went back to the farm, but often wondered about strange birds that peck the ground and never talk. As they got older, they decided that some things were just mysteries that didn’t need to be solved. The rabbit knew better though, and secretly vowed to go back to the farm to be sure no more animals were caged and eaten. He was a very brave rabbit, and after a long life had saved many others from a horrible fate.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

And Yet Another Old Friend Dies.

If you knew Gus, you know this is true

We met at the Morton Building in Charlottesville when PVCC was being planned. He was the chair of Humanities and Social Sciences and I was the chair of Everything else. Two chairmen to start with. He planned courses and curricula, space and technology and of course faculty and staff for his area and I did the same for mine. Except mine was bigger and way more complex. I had Math and Science and a few other things. We were moving into a brand new purpose built building, and Gus and I were the real architects of the academic spaces. Of course there was a librarian and a dean of students for that area, but we ruled the campus from conception to execution. And beyond.
We were chalk and cheese in some ways: Science vs Humanities. But Gus was interested in science and I was interested in everything, so we fit. Both named Richard too. We spent years developing the camaraderie of quietness that only comes from friends who know each other well. We worked hard together and played harder together. Both with families and by our selves. We  were hell raisers on trips, but we got the job done.
The Gus and Woody stories are numerous and some legendary, but they mostly die with me. No one needs to be reminded what we did, where, when and how if they were a part of it. No one needs to know details if they weren’t. We both eventually left PVCC for other institutions and we both retired Emeritus. We lost touch over the years, but never lost connection or memories.
He died on April 10th at age 74. I am 75. I have only one friend I have known longer, and he is still going. I hope.
The world will miss old Gus. His infectious laugh, his political insights, his brilliant teaching and his quiet friendship. Rest easy old friend. You won’t be alone too much longer. The poker crowd is catching up, and maybe we will get a good game going with Me, You, Forest, Ed, and sometimes Chick and Peter and a few others. Remember Peter and the Keys? Remember Deep Throat? Oh yes, we do too. Good days are ahead. Hang in there. And rest easy. Your legacy is well secured. Oh yeah. His name was Richard Carl Gossweiler Jr. Probably the least important to know about old Gus.

Image: https://yifof.files.wordpress.com/2015/01/d19310c18de3dbdcf37087115b5722ab.jpg

Monday, April 13, 2015

Political Season Opens with a BANG!!!


Politics. It never ends does it? Now we are well into the pre-2016 election season and the woodwork had yielded up many critters. Some obviously flawed some ridiculous and a few probably worthy of consideration.
In the next few months the candidates will begin the winnowing process, and then when the primaries come around the “people” will have a say. Well, some people. Most voters won’t bother to vote in the primaries so the ideologues on all sides will really determine who gets to run and who stays home. Both major parties have candidates and no doubt a few third party people will crop up to screw things up.
You don’t think third party candidates don’t make a difference? Ralph Nader gave the election to the Bush/Cheney ticket. He got the exact opposite of what he stood for. And we all got, well, you know what we got. The third party candidates usually siphon off liberal votes and make it harder for Democrats to win elections. Not so much for Republicans. They have a much tighter process once the bloodletting is over.
So this election cycle we will all be standing on the side watching the parties and candidate try to differentiate themselves from the rest, and try to convince voters to get out and vote. There will be time later for dissecting the actual nominees so for now I am just going to relax and enjoy the spectacle of the Republicans eating their young. But don’t think that whoever wins their process won’t be a formidable candidate. The Democrats will have their hands full, and the Republicans will be fighting a tough challenger. And who knows what moronic third parties will crop up to throw sand in the gears of the electoral process. And who knows what laws will be passed to interferewith voting.  And who knows how much money will be poured into the election by foreign powers and superrich oligarchs. A lot.

Image: http://www.businessnewsdaily.com/images/i/000/002/481/i02/democrat-republican.jpg?1339609323

An Old Woodpecker Finds Help and Peace

Squirrel  and Possum were moping around in an old hollow log one rainy afternoon. “Possum, I am bored. Let’s go out in the rain and have some fun. Let’s explore!!” “Well, I was just going to try a nap, but OK, I’m with you.”
Off they went in the rain down a path that eventually took them to a small stream. After having a long drink, they decided to climb an old dead tree nearby and see what they could see from the top. About half way up, they found a dark hole and decided to explore inside the tree. Squirrel went first since he was the smallest and by far the most inquisitive. They poked around for a bit, and then were startled and frightened when a voice called “Help! Help me please” and the voice got weaker. They cautiously looked into a cavity and there was an old woodpecker, weak from starvation and no water, and nearly  blind. “Oh” cried possum! “You frightened us. Can we help?”
Well, the woodpecker was surprised that the furry ones would even think of helping her, but felt a spark of hope. “I am thirsty and very hungry, and can’t seem to fly to find food or water. I don’t think you can really help me, but at least I can die with someone with me.”. “Die? We won’t let you die. We will get some water and food and take care of you.” And so their work began. First the friends had to find something to bring in some water, and then find some food. There was plenty of water outside the tree because it was raining, but nothing to collect it in. Then, Squirrel spotted a large acorn. He chewed the nut out and left a perfect cup where the nut had been. Carefully, the friends filled the cup with water and climbed the tree. It spilled out. Then they took the nut cup up to the hole and filled it with rain running down the trunk. IT WORKED!. Now, they carefully carried the water to the back of the hollow where the woodpecker had her first drink in days.  “Oh thank you children” she said, and fell into a deep sleep.
The friends then went out and found seeds and some grubs. Squirrel packed the seeds into his cheeks, while possum made a pouch from a leaf and loaded it with grubs.
When they got back to the hollow, the woodpecker was awake, and as she ate for the first time in many days she thanked them again. “I never thought furries would help an old bird like me. In fact, I have never even had a furry friend. I am so lucky.” “And you don’t have to worry. Every day we will bring more food and water for you until you get well enough to go out on your own.” Woodpecker thought “But I am blind, and may never be able to fly again.” But she didn’t say anything. After the boys left, she crept to the opening in the tree and realized she could still see shadows and smell the woods around her. She flew away to a distant tree, and there rested until she was strong enough to hunt for her own food. Old age and weakness caught her, though, and she died peacefully in her sleep a week later.
When the friends got back to the tree the next afternoon, they found the hollow empty and wondered where the woodpecker went. “Do you suppose she is alright Squirrel?” said Possum. “Yes, she has probably has found her family and is at peace.”
And one week later she was.