Archive for August 2013
SATURDAY LIGHT FARE
Posted on: August 31, 2013
Good Saturday to you Widdershins. I hope this finds you having a great day on this long holiday weekend and if you are driving on your holiday please use a little bit of extra caution. Today starts the college football season and as my team has to play Chat’s team this season I decided a very generic picture was in order. 😉 That being said, lets look at some of the odd or humorous things that caught my eye on the internet.
Not even Obamacare could help this
A Maryland woman, Jules Weiss was driving and decided to take a little stroll and take a picture at an overlook on the George Washington Parkway. When walking back to her car, felt something bite her. She thought it was a bee sting at first until she looked down and saw two fang marks with liquid coming out of them. Jules had been bitten by a copperhead snake. Jules, by the way was a former medical technician so possibly she had an idea of what happened. And when I write “former”, that’s important because Jules’ medical insurance had just lapsed. Nevertheless, Jules went to Suburban Hospital in Bethesda Maryland and she was treated with three IV bags of antivenom over an 18 hour period. And then she got the bill. And the bill was fifty-five thousand dollars.
“It’s not a number I can really wrap my head around,” Weiss said. Health insurance would bring the cost down to a few hundred dollars, according to NBC4. But the woman’s insurance had just lapsed. Antivenom involves milking individual snakes and is a costly treatment.
The Bethesda Hospital told NBC4 it can cost as much as $40,000 to get the antivenom.
At least she has a good attitude about it.
Has anyone seen that little guy from Travelocity?
It seems there are some new residents in a park in Overland Park Kansas. And those residents would be, ah…gnomes. Little bitty gnomes in little bitty homes in trees.
Some new residents have taken up homes in a Kansas city, and they’re not paying rent.
Gnome homes are appearing around the bottom of trees in Overland Park, KSHB reported.
The little houses feature a door into the residence, a stick path to the home and trinkets inside. Two homes have been found so far, located past a sign that reads “Firefly Forest.”
“You know, I think it’s bringing smiles and laughter to those who are finding out about it,” said Sean Reilly, spokesperson for Overland Park. “That’s exactly what we need sometimes in our lives is a little bit of happiness, joy and truly just laughter.”
The city doesn’t know how many there are total, or who is building them, according to Yahoo.
Remember the goats at the Congressional Cemetery on Capitol Hill?
I wrote about the cemetery bringing in goats to chew up all of the weeds and vines in the cemetery and we had a good laugh at the idea of the “old goats” actually in Congress on the Hill. Well it seems that when you have those goats around you also have their “leftovers”, i.e. the manure and if you are saving it for fertilizer to spread around sometimes bad things can happen.
A pile of goat manure spontaneously caught fire, spreading stench and wrinkling noses through a Vermont town but causing no damage, officials said.
The odor evoked “a damp kind of burning leaves or brush fire,” Windsor Town Manager Tom Marsh said.
George Redick who owns Oak Knoll Dairy with 800 goats said he was going to spread out the manure pile around the farm but the rainy season and some other things got in his way. I bet that doesn’t happen again.
Redick says the manure would typically have been spread around the farm earlier in the year, but the rainy season and other factors kept that from happening.
He said he used to think spontaneous combustion was make-believe.
“Now I’m a believer,” he said.
Here’s a feel-good story on college football players
This one doesn’t involve bar fights, smoking synthetic weed, selling autographs, or drunk driving. Nope, this one involves four football players at Division III level William Paterson University in New Jersey. There’s a neat video there which I can’t embed so you’ll have to go to the link to check it out. Now the football team at this school has not had a winning season in twenty years or so but they sure have four winners on their team.
Four football players from William Paterson University went shopping at a general store in Wayne, N.J., on Sunday afternoon. After spending several minutes trying to locate the store clerk, two of the players who needed sunglasses and batteries were captured on store security cameras leaving money at the register.
Buddy’s Small Lots store manager, Marci Lederman, was taken by their honesty.
“They picked up a few items, and they left cash on the counter and waved to the cameras,” Lederman told Yahoo News. “Who does that?”
Thomas James, Kell’E Gallimore, Jelani Bruce and Anthony Biondi do that.
“It doesn’t surprise me that they did what they did,” said Jerry Flora, the Pioneers’ head coach. “That’s the kind of kids we try and recruit in here so we can obviously deal with a lot less headaches if you know what I mean.”
As it turns out, the players had unknowingly entered a closed store. Lederman said a lock on the front door had malfunctioned and a half-lit store made it look like Buddy’s was open. Police phoned her to say an alarm had been tripped, but she found nothing amiss.
Lederman was so impressed that she called a local TV station to share the surveillance video, which helped her identify the four young men. On Tuesday, she rewarded each of them with $50 shopping sprees.
“They were just very thankful and grateful,” she said. “They’re nice kids.”
Finally, this youtube surfaced last week or before that and I meant to add it last Saturday. It’s from the 2011 Tsunami in Japan. The video lasts about 25 minutes. You hear sirens and warnings sounding and you see what looks to be a storm drainage or navigation canal. Soon you see a small rivulet of water moving in and up and then you gradually see the entire full effect of the Tsunami with collapsed houses and buildings in the canal and then the water overtopping it. Eventually it gets dark but you see a small fire staring across the canal and soon it looks like blocks of buildings are on fire. The video is truly mesmerizing.
Okay that’s it for me but do let me know in comments how your day is going. I’ll be around some but from the schedule it looks like I will have a full day of SEC football to watch!
This is an open thread.
Wish I could, but I can’t…
Posted on: August 30, 2013
Morning Widdershin — here’s hoping your Friday is gloriously anticipatory of an even better Labor Day weekend.
I wish I could, but I can’t make up stuff like this.
Twenty-nine percent of the Republicans in Louisiana blame the poor response to Hurricane Katrina on — wait for it, wait for it — Barack Obama. You know him, the guy who in 2005 was in the process of relocating from Kenya via Indonesia on his way to public housing in D.C.
Not to be outdone by a little thing like a hurricane, twenty-two percent of Romney voters believe Obama is the Antichrist. Obviously, Indonesian madrassa education can lead to a plethora of vocational possibilities.
It just goes without saying, Americans were three times more likely to be able to name two of the seven dwarfs than Supreme Court justices. Of course, that doesn’t mean the names of the dwarfs are not equally applicable to the justices — especially Dopey and Grumpy.
All of this isn’t surprising. In the words of former President Bush when he was talking about the importance of education, “Rarely is the question asked: Is our children learning?”
Apparently, they is not.
These among other facts bubbled up through the scotch-ridden synapses of my brain on Wednesday when I saw the Fox commemoration of the 50th Anniversary of the March on Washington.
Josh Barro the neo-liberal conservative (I know he’s got to be in therapy) gets the hat tip for finding this. He opines that the “50 years since the March on Washington” works for anything, such as:
50 years since the March on Washington, bees are still dying.
50 years since the March on Washington, some worry about Miley Cyrus’ twerking.
50 years since the March on Washington, my sink is still leaking.
It does work for just about anything and is a convenient precursor in order to steer just about any conversation. Roger Ailes is brilliant that way.
So here are a few of mine:
Forty-four years after the moon landing, Arizona passes stiffer immigration laws — just in case.
Two-thousand Two-hundred Nineteen years since the opening of the Great Wall of China, the neighbors are still waiting for a barbecue invitation.
One-hundred Thirty-nine years after the first Kentucky Derby, no one is quite sure why Lady Camilla Parker Bowles has such a long face.
Five-hundred Twenty-one years after Columbus landed in the New World, most everyone is glad he didn’t book with Carnival.
Seven-hundred Twenty-two years after the Crusades, do you think anyone will miss Jerry Lewis this weekend?
If Fox can do it, we can too — what’s your headline of deflection today?
Have a great weekend!
This is an open thread.
Remain Calm, Etc: On the Warpath
Posted on: August 29, 2013
- In: Congress | Current Events | Middle East | Open Thread | War | You Tube
- 31 Comments
Good Thursday, Widdershins.
Most of this week was devoted to the memory of Martin Luther King. the prophet of non-violence. Now that we have dutifully paid homage to The Dream, we can turn our attention to the other American pastime – war.
The drums have been beating for some time, lead by Senatorial percussionists Graham and McCain. The Senators issued a joint statement, reported here by The Washington Times:
“Using stand-off weapons, without boots on the ground, and at minimal risk to our men and women in uniform, we can significantly degrade Assad’s air power and ballistic missile capabilities and help to establish and defend safe areas on the ground,” Mr. McCain and Mr. Graham said in a joint statement. “In addition, we must begin a large-scale effort to train and equip moderate, vetted elements of the Syrian opposition with the game-changing weapons they need to shift the military balance against Assad’s forces.”
“Vetted elements of the Syrian opposition”? So who vets them? I seem to remember not so very long ago, a President Reagan decided that the very best way to stifle the Soviet Union was to arm some dude named Bin Laden to the teeth and turn him loose. How did that work out? The good news is that the Soviets went home, the bad news is that we ended up in Afghanistan cleaning up the mess. That’s the ticket, “vet” the Syrian rebels. What could go wrong?
Thirty-five years ago, I considered Damascus to be a one-stop shopping center. We were living in Saudi Arabia, and the souks in Damascus were a whole lot better than the local equivalent, so whenever we could wrangle the time off and an exit visa simultaneously we were off. Syria was edgy back then as well, but not really dangerous. The people were gracious, and in customs lay somewhere between the ultra-religious Saudis and the much more secular Jordanians. Watching what has happened to them of late is almost painful. As a nurse, I am on board with the notion that some form of neurotoxin was deployed against these people. The only thing that stops me just short of full commitment is that their caretakers are not wearing any sort of protective gear, yet exhibit none of the symptoms. Neurotoxic agents, particularly ricin, linger on skin, hair and clothing, and are acquired by anyone who touches the victims.
The UN has investigated the matter, and plans to release a report any day now. In the meantime, naval vessels are positioning themselves off the Syrian coast. The President must now figure out his next step. The “chemical weapons” line in the sand has likely been crossed, and the time for leadership is here. There is really no point in approaching the UN, as Russia and China would gleefully veto anything more punitive than sending Assad a birthday card, so that’s out.
Congressional Republicans are now in full swing. Speaker John Boehner is loudly demanding “answers” from the President. The Sunday talk shows were laden with Repubs discussing the War Powers Act of 1976, and whether or not this gives the Prez carte blanche to go clean some Middle Eastern clocks. Some say yes, some say no, and I’ll post the salient portion of the aforementioned Act so that you might decide for yourself. Here it is:
(a) Congressional declarationIt is the purpose of this chapter to fulfill the intent of the framers of the Constitution of the United States and insure that the collective judgment of both the Congress and the President will apply to the introduction of United States Armed Forces into hostilities, or into situations where imminent involvement in hostilities is clearly indicated by the circumstances, and to the continued use of such forces in hostilities or in such situations.
(b) Congressional legislative power under necessary and proper clause
Under article I, section 8, of the Constitution, it is specifically provided that the Congress shall have the power to make all laws necessary and proper for carrying into execution, not only its own powers but also all other powers vested by the Constitution in the Government of the United States, or in any department or officer hereof/
(c) Presidential executive power as Commander-in-Chief; limitation
The constitutional powers of the President as Commander-in-Chief to introduce United States Armed Forces into hostilities, or into situations where imminent involvement in hostilities is clearly indicated by the circumstances, are exercised only pursuant to(1) a declaration of war,(2) specific statutory authorization, or(3) a national emergency created by attack upon the United States, its territories or possessions, or its armed forces
Libertarian Island
Our Madamab was traveling yesterday. So to help out I found this play which probably is still relevant today.
I hope y’all enjoy.
SCENE I: A busy urban street. Two middle-aged white men, BOB and JOE, are waiting at a stoplight, having a spirited political discussion. They have been friends for years and the discussion has the feel of ritual.
BOB: Look, I just don’t trust the government to run my health care. In fact, I don’t want ’em doing anything for me at all. I just want to live my life without government interference. What’s wrong with that? Besides, the American health care system is the best in the world!
JOE (sighing): Oh, forgawd’ssake, BOB, give it a rest already. I wish just for once you could live in that Libertarian Paradise you’re always talking about. I’d bet you’d be begging for government to come back in about half a second!
(The light changes. BOB and JOE start walking across the street, too absorbed in their conversation to pay much attention to where they’re going.)
BOB: No, seriously, JOE. The only thing to do is make government so small we can drown it in a bathtub. Every man for himself. It’s the only way we can be free!
JOE: Ahhh, BOB, don’t you get that all corporations care about is their bottom line? I’m telling you —
(Out of nowhere, a bus, out of control, careens into the intersection and smacks right into the hapless friends. Strangely, the marquee on the top of the bus reads “Liberty Express.” BOB and JOE fly in opposite directions as the scene fades to black.)
SCENE II: A lush island Paradise. The sky is a lovely blue festooned with decorative, puffy white clouds. BOB is lying on a hammock strung between two palm trees. Behind him, the facade of an impossibly luxurious resort hotel can be seen; in front of him is a beautifully landscaped infinity pool, complete with waterfall and fat-free bathing beauties in bikinis. BOB is unconscious, but appears to be otherwise unharmed by his encounter with the Liberty Express. Slowly, he opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings.
BOB (wonderingly): What the fuck?!
(One of the bikini-clad babes, perfectly tan and blonde, strolls over to BOB with a drink in her hand.)
BLONDE (liltingly): Hello, Bob! Welcome to Libertarian Island. Care for a complimentary beverage?
BOB (confused): What – what happened?
BLONDE (comfortingly): That’s really not important, Bob. Everything will be explained to you shortly. I’m just here to provide you with your complimentary beverage. Do you want it or not? It’s got a cute little umbrella and everything!
BOB (totally lost): Uh…yes???
(The BLONDE hands him the drink, which he sips tentatively. A huge smile blossoms across his face.)
BOB: Wow! That’s the best martini I’ve ever had. How did you know it was my favorite?
BLONDE (wagging her finger, flirtily stern): Uh-uh-uh! Drink up!
(BOB finishes his drink. His eyelids lower to half mast as the potent alcohol kicks in.)
BOB (tipsy): Thanks, uh…what did you say your name was?
BLONDE (coldly): I didn’t. (lifts her wrist to her mouth) Okay, he’s ready.
(She walks away, completely indifferent now that she has performed her duty, and happily situates herself on the lounge chair from whence she came.)
BOB: What – where are you going?
(He starts to follow her, but a man clad all in white robes steps in front of him, blocking his access to the BLONDE. The man looks like a Ken doll, the ultimate Republican idea of perfection. In fact, his name is KEN. Cool, huh?)
KEN: Now, BOB, let’s just calm down. My name is KEN, and I’m here to officially welcome you to – Libertarian Island!
(A banner unfurls from the palm trees between which BOB’s hammock is tied. The pristine white, beautifully-inked banner reads, of course, “Welcome to Libertarian Island.” Below that declaration are the words “Freedom IS Free! Free, Freedy, Freedelicious Freedom!”)
BOB (in awe): Cool!
KEN: I’m here to be your guide and to help make your stay more enjoyable.
BOB: How could it be more enjoyable? I mean, (gesturing) LOOK at this place!
KEN: Well, BOB, this place certainly is beautiful. But this is not where you’re going to be staying. Step this way, please.
(KEN leads BOB past the bikini babes, who loftily ignore him, and towards a dirt path in the elegant green sward. After a minute of walking, BOB notices something strange.)
BOB: Hey KEN – is that a door?!
KEN: Yes it is, BOB. You see, you were in the visitor’s section of Libertarian Island. When you go through this door, you will see the rest of the island. I promise, you’re going to love it!
BOB (confidently): Of course I will. I mean, this is Libertarian Island, so I’m assuming we’ve got that damn government out of our lives and are free to create a better society through choice and competition!
KEN: Ab-so-LUTELY! (opening the door) And heeeeerrrre we are!
Mahalia’s dream…
Posted on: August 27, 2013
- In: Civil Rights | Future | Open Thread
- 6 Comments
Morning Widdershins. I hope your dreams last evening were not of yesterday, but were of tomorrow.
Dreaming has been on my mind of late with the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington. It is also the 150th anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation — something too often overlooked.
The way the human brain works, we remember and process in tiny snippets of about 3 seconds. The way we remember Martin Luther King’s speech from that day is the line, “I have a dream.” There’s more to the story.
With the three networks covering the March on Washington, it was the first national exposure of MLK. His entourage of advisors wanted his introduction to be spectacular, but measured. Like anything created by committee, they penned an unimaginative, stem-winder of a speech so dry it was essentially technocratic tender.
MLK was the last of sixteen speakers on that humid, oppressively sweltering August day in Washington.
Ms. Mahalia Jackson was in the VIP section that day — close to the speaker’s dais. She had met MLK at a Baptist Convention and occasionally traveled with him using her enormous talents to help him inspire crowds.
As she listened to his uninspiring prepared remarks, she shouted, “Martin, tell us about the dream!” MLK continued, but Ms.
Jackson again insisted, “Tell us about the dream!”
It was at that point Martin Luther King launched into his extemporaneous poetry of “I have a dream.” And thus history was made, lives were changed, and things were never again quite the same.
My point in recounting this story is pretty simple. Without the bravery and emotional intelligence of Mahalia Jackson, Martin Luther King would have been just another speaker that day. His oratorical skills were olympian, but without the prodding of Ms. Jackson’s unabashed audacity, we would not have recalled the poetry of “being judged not by the color of their skin, but the content of their character.”
While there are multitudes of wanna-bes to deliver the quintessential political oratory today, there are too few who exhibit the audacity and emotional intelligence of Ms. Jackson. She knew what could move the emotions of a heart and the logic of a head to dance in perfect synchronicity. She knew the essential purity of selfless source credibility. She knew the needs of thirsty souls.
When I look at those who reveled last week in Fifty-seven Thousand little children cut from Head Start or those who boast about cutting 12 million poor from food stamps or those who accept with a shrug the stagnation of the middle class, I don’t hear the piercing intelligence and righteousness of Mahalia Jackson.
What I hear are Alan Simpson and Erskine Bowles being paid $40,000 a pop for speeches aggrandizing failed austerity or Jim Demint being paid $1.0 million plus a year for contrived divisive research or Dick Armey basking in the lavishness of an $8.0 million payoff for his hand of hatefulness in the birth of FreedomWorks.
We don’t have those with the heart or the tenacity of a Mahalia Jackson to speak to our heads and our hearts. Wall Street and the One-percenters have made us deaf and unfeeling to the inescapable truth that the greatest indicator of success or failure of a child born today is the zip code of his mother. We have no one who dares tell us science should not frighten us, but give us wings. We have no one who tells us a job is more than a paycheck, but a barometer of one’s self-esteem.
When I hear the “Randian austerians” drone on about bootstrap stories, I am left emotionally and logically saddened. Those of impure hearts and biased motivations are using the one-in-a-million success story to justify foreclosing opportunity to the millions left behind. We can’t forget that the anecdotal is merely incidental. We must remember reality is too often finality for those who are beyond the graces of fate.
In that moment, Mahalia Jackson had the courage to allow her emotional intelligence to speak that day fifty years ago. Think of the world in which we could live if we had that moment of courage each day.
This is an open thread.
The Widdershins 
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