Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Getting To the End


As we approach New Year's Eve, I've read many articles describing the events of the past ten years, believing that 2009 is the END of the decade. Spoilsports remind us that the decade doesn't actually end until December 31, 2010.
To bolster their argument, they offer up the following: say you have 9 cents. You won't truly have a dime until you add one more penny, bringing the total up to 10 cents. So it is with years and decades. In other words, you may have 9 years (2009), but you truly won't have a decade until you add another year to bring it up to 10.
Yes, this is true. But, in common practice, a lot of people (not me; I don't really care) prefer to believe the first decade of the 21st century is over. I can see their point. When we speak of the "80's", we actually say they took place from 1980 to 1989 (we don't include the year 1990 when speaking of the 20th century's ninth decade).
So it is I believe with THIS decade.
While technically correct, the "the decade isn't really over yet" crowd comes across as cranky perfectionists who want to rain on others' parades. They would win bar bats, but that's all. It's like the old "which state is farthest east?"
Technically speaking, it is Alaska. If you don't believe me, look at a map. You'll see a portion of Alaska is actually WEST of 180 degrees (meaning it's EAST). But, common practice says that MAINE is the farthest east.
Whatever. Like I said, I don't care.
In any event, Happy New Year!

Monday, December 21, 2009

Have a Holly Jolly Politically Incorrect Christmas

Pretentious Creative Artist Disclaimer: Due to fiscal constraints, we regret to inform you the work you are about to read is unavailable in Spanish, French, Arabic, Mandarin Chinese, Pig Latin, Esperanto, or Poodle.

With apologies to Major Henry Livingston, Jr.:*


Twas the Night Before December 25th


‘Twas the night before December 25th, when all through the place of residence (be it house, teepee, shopping cart, or refrigerator carton).

Not a creature was stirring, not even a sentient life form known as a rodent (which has every right to live free of evil humans).

The school-issued condoms were hung by the chimney with care,

in hopes that Planned Parenthood soon would be there.


The children of the multi-diverse family unit were nestled by Family Services all snug in their beds,

while visions of non-dairy, non-sugar, non-peanut, non-caffeine, non-transfats, non-threatening, non-taste broccoli plums danced “With the Stars” in their heads.

And my life partner in a hyperbaric chamber and I in my neoprene bubble

had drifted to sleep, with nary any trouble.


When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my bed (which I selfishly bought at IKEA while millions slept on grates and ate newspaper), to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I feared that I’d spy

Madonna, Dick Cheney, or that Obama guy.


The moon, on the breast of the new-fallen snow

gave the luster of midday to objects below.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

but a “little people” sleigh and eight height-challenged reindeer.


With a stature-limited seasoned-citizen driver, so lively and quick,

I knew it must be that Person of Androgynous Reknown, Nikita or Nick.

More rapid than bailouts, her/his coursers they came

and she/he whistled and shouted and called them by name (though not as subservients; rather as equals in the mutual exchange of commerce).


“Now Hillary! Chris Dodd!

Joe Biden and Nixon!

Al Franken! Al Sharpton!

Britney and OJ Simpson!

To the top of the porch!

To the top of the wall!

Now, dash away, but only if you’re physically able and don’t feel threatened by it all!”


As dry leaves before the hurricane fly,

which plugs up the levees because Bush wants you to die,

so up to the subsidized housing the hoofed business partners flew,

with the sleigh full of sinful capitalist loot and Nikita/Nick, too.


And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my head, I turned and I saw

Nikita/Nick and her/his attorney-at-law.


She/he was dressed in synthetic fur, from her/his head to her/his foot,

and her/his clothes were all tarnished with the tracings of soot

(a carcinogen which I knew to be the by-product of the evil exploitation of our friends, the majestic trees).

A bundle of toys she/he had tossed in a sack

and I KNEW I was liable if she/he busted her/his back!


Her/his eyes--how they twinkled! Her/his dimples, how merry!

Her/his cheeks like BOTOX balloons, her/his nose like a cherry!

It was obvious with him/her I should not be alone

this creepy, suspicious Michael Moore clone.

Her/his droll little mouth was drawn up in a frown

hoping he/she was not in the house of some government clown.

The stump of a pipe she/he had just for effect

as she/he sported a nicotine patch on her/his neck.

She/he had a broad face and a little round belly

that shook when she/he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.


(NOTE: the American Medical Association strongly urges a lifestyle which eliminates the existence of “little round bellies”, as they may lead to diabetes, high blood pressure, heart attack, stroke, halitosis, driving heavy equipment while drowsy, and rickets.)


She/he was chubby and plump (see NOTE above), a right jolly old fairy/troll/forest nymph/dwarf/multi-diverse personage of varying-yet valuable-ethnic persuasion/wood sprite/lobbyist/elf,

and I laughed when I saw her/him, in spite of myself (although, to avoid being sued, I said I was laughing “with”, not “at”, her/him).

A wink of her/his eye and a twist of her/his head

soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.


She/he spoke not a word, but went straight to her/his chore

and bought carbon credits from the troll named Al Gore.

And laying her/his finger on the side (not in) of her/his nose,

and giving a nod, up the chimney/window/teepee smoke hole she/he rose.


She/he sprang to her/his sleigh, to her/his team gave a whistle,

and they mutually agreed in committee to fly as equals away like the down of a thistle.

But, I heard her/him exclaim, ‘ere she/he drove out of sight.


“Happy Non-Sectarian Day-of-Observance-Which-Has-Nothing-To-Do-With-An-Established-Creed-Or-Dogma-of-Faith-Because-That-Would-Be-a-Heinous-Violation-of-the-Sanctity-of-the-Separation-of-Church-and-State-Because-What-About-the-Children-Dammit!? and to all a mutually-satisfying (as agreed upon in writing. In triplicate. By the ACLU.) night!”


*Evidently, Clement Clark Moore is the 19th century equivalent of the New York Times’ plagiarist, Jayson Blair. A classic since its 1823 appearance in the Troy Sentinel, ‘A Visit From St. Nicholas’ (as it was alternately known) was claimed by Moore as his own in 1837, conveniently after Livingston had passed away. In fact, Moore, who hadn’t written anything else of reknown, incorporated the work into one of his own books, Poems, in 1844! So, the next time you’re tempted to fret and bemoan our lack of journalistic scruples, just remember Moore’s response when asked if he had, indeed, written this most-famous of Yuletide poems: “Uh, yeah, whatever.”

Or, so I’ve read on the Internet. Because, after all, if it’s there, it must be true!


Friday, December 18, 2009

Who Gives a Flying Crap About Tiger Woods?


There's a war in Afghanistan.
There's a war in Iraq.
Iran is going to get nuclear weapons.
North Korea HAS nuclear weapons.
The jobless rate is 10%.
KSM is having a CIVILIAN trial in NYC.
Navy SEALs are being prosecuted for doing their jobs.
The national debt is over $12 trillion dollars.
The federal government is perilously close to controlling one-sixth of the economy.
The president sees nothing wrong with robbing Peter to pay Paul, who's just sitting on his ass.
California is going bankrupt, New York will run out of money by the end of the year.
Guantanamo terrorists will be moved to the United States (Illinois?).
Manmade global warming zealots will saddle our grandchildren with an enormous debt.
There are tax cheats in the administration and in Congress.

So....I refer you to the above.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Socialism Is a Good thing


There, I hope I got your attention.
In socialism. the government owns the basic means of production, decides how to use resources, distributes the products and wages, and provides social services, such as education, health care, and welfare. It has three main goals:
1. The distribition of wealth and economic opportunity equally among people.
2. Society's control, through its government, of all major decisions about production.
3. Public ownership of most land, of factories, and of other means of production.
It's not my intention to go over each of the above, point by point. It should be obvious to any reasonable, honest individual how much our present government has "fundamentally transformed" our society.
And don't think I'm letting the previous administration off the hook, either. Wasn't it President Bush who said that we needed to trash the free market system to save it (I'm paraphrasing)?
My point here is that socialism would be an outstanding way of living our lives if it wasn't for one, teensy little reason: we're dealing with human beings here.
Socialism has a very laudable goal of helping all of mankind. If someone needs something, then by all means, let's help them. But, human nature will not cooperate.
This would only work if everyone (EVERYone) strove toward the same goal. But, you can't tell me that NObody will sit on their behinds, sucking up the largesse of people who do contribute.
The Pilgrims tried this when a common store of food was maintained for everyone's use in hard times. No matter what, the townspeople were granted their share. But some less-than-stellar citizens (i.e., "humans") figured they'd get food whether they worked or not. The result? The store of food ran out and people starved.
Things improved when farmers were allowed to keep what they grew to feed their families (with an amount being set aside for the truly needy).
Jamestown Plantation was socialist to an extent. Although, Captain John Smith made a stipulation that if "you didn't work, you didn't eat" (I'm paraphrasing again).
My point is that, while Socialism is a grand idea, it will never work because there will always be those who will just suck off the labors of others. There is nothing to indicate that human beings have evolved to where it is "one for all and all for one." And no amount of frantic, pitiful, hand-wringing from the "Kumbaya" crowd will change that basic fact.
It just won't happen. Let me keep the corn I grow.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Not For Nothin'....

I think it's great that the unemployment rate has dropped from 10.2% to 10% (are you as dizzy as I from that crazy, uncontrollable fall?). But-and I really hate to be Billy Buzz-Kill during the holidays-I have to wonder: does that reflect seasonal hires? If so, should we expect unemployment to rise again in January?