Posts Tagged With: Drugs

This and that from re Thai r ment, by 3Th. 8 SHADOW 0008. (June 27, 2019)

 

“We were born of risen apes, not fallen angels, and the apes were armed killers besides. And so what shall we wonder at? Our murders and massacres and missiles, and our irreconcilable regiments?”Ap
Robert Ardrey, African Genesis: A Personal Investigation into the Animal Origins and Nature of Man. StoryDesign LTD (September 2, 2014)

 

 

Happy 80th Birthday Peter Grenell.

 

 

 

TODAY FROM AMERICA:

 

 

 

A. POOKIE’S ADVENTURES IN THE ENCHANTED FOREST:

 
Wednesday, tomorrow, we are off to The Big Endive for my Immunotherapy treatment on Friday. I look forward to the trip. It is always enjoyable for me to spend some time with Peter and Barrie.

Today, I just lazed around the house and watched the Democrats on TV attack one another with far greater vigor than they attack The Orange One. As Will Rogers opined many years ago, “I am not a member of an organized political party. I am a Democrat.”

Vaca Santa (Holy cow) and Mole Santa (Holy moly — a bad pun) it is hot outside. While the temperature has not broken 100 degrees yet, it feels well above that.
B. OFF TO XUČYUN AND THE BIG ENDIVE:

 

 

Today we left for the big Endive, but first, we stopped at Leila’s Cafe on San Pablo Avenue in Xučyun (The Ohlone name for Berkeley) to meet Malcolm Margolin. It was the beginning of a very interesting and enjoyable day. It had been overcast and quite cool when we left Sacramento but was sunny and warm by the time we arrived at the cafe so we sat at the outside tables at the back of the cafe and ordered breakfast. It was a large pleasant place with an impressive statue of the Buddha resting in the corner.

As we were digging into our meals, Malcolm arrived and joined us. He was a bit thinner than I imagined but, he proved every bit as delightful as Naida had described him. He spoke in a very soft voice and stuttered frequently. He told us his speaking difficulties were due to his suffering from Parkinson’s Disease for the past 12 years.
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Naida West with Malcolm Margolin
Malcolm then invited us to join him for lunch at the Ohlone Cafe in downtown Xučyun. The Cafe, he said, served authentic native Ohlone food. We accepted his invitation and drove together to his home to meet up with another couple who were joining us for lunch.

Margolin’s home was located in the Berkeley flatlands off Delaware Avenue. The house was small. Inside, books and papers were stuck into all the nooks and crannies. Unusual artworks filled up almost every other open space. They mostly consisted of shallow boxes separated into smaller enclosures each filled with small objects representing the theme of the larger box. Malcolm’s wife is an artist of note and I assume the works were hers.

The two other guests who were joining us at lunch arrived — Debra Schwartz, who runs Tam Hiking Tours in Mill Valley, a company that takes people on environmental walks through the Marin highlands (an upland Mrs. Terwilliger if you will) and Gary Yost a cinematic 3D 360 artist. After saying goodbye to Mrs. Margolin we left for lunch.

The Ohlone Cafe is located in the terraced back patio and kitchen space of University Press Books and Musical Offering Cafe at 2430 Bancroft Ave., Xučyun (Berkeley). The Cafe is only opened Thursdays for lunch as well as for a few other meals during the week. The lunch began with a little talk by one of the remaining Ohlone still living in the area. He described his efforts and that of the other remaining Ohlone to preserve their language and their culture of which their native food was a part. We then were served a meal of traditional Ohlone fare cooked in the customary way from native plants still growing in the area that were recently collected by them. It also included quail eggs and a delightful herbal tea. The meal was surprisingly tasty.

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After lunch, we visited the workshop in Emeryville of Reuben Margolin, Malcolm’s son. Reuben constructs remarkable mobile structures many of which have been installed in museums, corporate offices, hotels, and concert halls around the world. It is difficult to describe how breathtaking these kinetic sculptures are when they are in motion. You can see them in action on Reuben’s website (https://www.reubenmargolin.com/) Here is a photograph of one:

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We then sampled Gary Yost’s 3D 360 work. One moment you stand in the middle of an artist’s workshop and the next you are whisked into the center Grace Cathedral all shimmering stained glass and gothic columns with people strolling about. Suddenly, mysterious dancers appear in front of you. Their writhing morphing into large black snakes crawling among the dancers and across the marble floor. You turn around. The cathedral is now empty. Only you, the dancers, and the black snakes remain. Great stuff. You can learn more about Yost and his work at https://www.360filmmaking.com/.

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We then said our reluctant goodbyes to everyone who contributed to making the day as enjoyable and interesting as it had been and drove across the Bay Bridge to The Big Endive by the Bay and Peter and Barrie’s house.

When we arrived at the house, Peter along with my son Jason and granddaughter Amanda were standing on the sidewalk waiting for us. My son and granddaughter were both suffering from bad colds. They said they wanted to see me while I was in town but would not come into the house for fear of infecting me. We spoke for a while. I gave Amanda a graduation present.

That evening Barrie prepared another wonderful meal. The next morning we went to the hospital for my treatment. The only thing novel and interesting that came out of my visit was that I learned the immunotherapy drug administered to me had been approved for use without the need for prior chemotherapy treatment. I do not know what this means for me since I have already suffered through Chemo, but it sounded like confirmation that the effort to find cures for cancer are proceeding apace.

After, the treatment we returned to the Enchanted Forest.

 
C. BACK IN THE ENCHANTED FOREST:

 

The next day, we were exhausted from our trip and spent most of the day watching on MSNBC the speeches of Democratic candidates for President at the North Carolina Democratic convention. After Biden gave his talk, we left for a long walk with the dog along the American River. It was hot. I got tired often. We stopped and rested on every bench we came to. At one of our rest stops, I fell into musing about old people like me walking through the forest. I thought it would be a good idea if the Enchanted Forest provided paths for we anziani including locating a bench every 100 yards or so where the aged could stop, rest, talk with others also taking the walk, perhaps play mahjong or something and then move on to the next bench. I would name it “Un percorso per anziani,” a path for the old ones. It could be considered a parcourse for the aged.

This had been the longest walk I had taken since I began Chemo six months ago. When we got home, I flopped into the chair, watched Pacino and Cazale tear up the scenery in Dog Day in the Afternoon followed by another Pacino film that co-starred Gene Hackman called Scarecrow. Then we went to bed. All in all, an excellent three days.

On Saturday, I left to visit HRM in the Golden Hills. It was Hamburger Day. He and his friend Caleb cooked their special recipe hamburgers. It seemed to me to be quite a bit of effort just to prepare a hunk of ground beef. But, after a lot moving about, discussion, and a few arguments with SWAC, a heated, buttered bun filled with fried onion, cheese, tomato, and a delicious, smooth-tasting well-cooked beef patty was placed on the table in front of me. After lunch feeling well fed, I left HRM and Caleb with a few bits of Pookie’s Words of Wisdom for Adolescents and returned to the Enchanted Forest.

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On Monday afternoon, we took a nap and then in the evening I watched the Reading of the Mueller Report. Everyone should see it. Later Naida and I watched several movies ending at about one in the morning with Taxi Driver — not something to experience just before going to sleep expecting to have happy dreams.

The next morning, I drove to Folsom for my eye exam. Nothing to report there. I then drove to the skatepark in the Golden Hills, picked up HRM, Caleb and Big Tall Long-haired Jake and drove them to the Subways near Town Center for lunch. They were all a-dither about Jakes father buying him a dirt bike that was expected to arrive that day or the next. HRM wanted one also. He had lobbied SWAC vigorously and she agreed to buy him one. HRM was concerned about the conditions she would impose on him in return for her concession.

After lunch, I drove them to Jakes house where they planned to spend the remainder of the afternoon swimming in the pool behind the house. During the drive, Jake, in response to my question whether or not his father was the manager of the FBI’s Roseville office, explained that his father originally had been an agent and tiring of that switched to becoming an interrogator. This required him to travel all over the world sometimes being away from home for months at a time. Eventually, becoming weary of the traveling and extended absences from his family, he requested a shift to management. He was transferred to Roseville to manage an interrogation squad and appears quite happy. He now spends his weekends doing things like going camping with his family instead of flying off to some godforsaken place administering water torture or something like that to some poor benighted individual in order to learn how he or she planned to overthrow the US government from their base in some malarial jungle or uninhabitable desert.

As they left the car at Jake’s house, as is my habit, I dispensed a bit of Pookie’s of Words Wisdom for Adolescents by telling them to, “Remember to keep each other safe.” I know it is impossible for one person to keep the world safe. We usually, however, automatically try to keep our children and family safe. I think it is a good thing to extend that consciousness to our cohorts, even and perhaps especially if it is just a gang of hormonal intoxicated teenagers.

It is now the morning before the first debate among the Democratic candidates for president. Usually, during the presidential nominating extravaganza, I write something I consider humorous about the spectacle. For example, during the 2015 nominating campaign, I wrote:

The Republicans candidates for their Party’s nomination completed the third of their scheduled 10 debates. They primarily attacked the moderators as being part of the liberal media for asking questions they did not want to answer. The Donald tweeted during the debate that he was embarrassed being there. So were most of those watching, I suspect. Everyone criticizes CSMB for not keeping control over the debate. In fairness to the moderators, it should be pointed out that they are news readers and not kindergarten teachers. Anyway, most commentators believe Water Boy won the debate by responding to The Lesser of the Lesser Bushes’ claim he has missed the most votes among all Senators because he keeps “French Hours,” that he is not lazy because other Senators miss votes too. (I cannot wait for the SNL version.) Others thought Cruz the Münster won because he was best at refusing to answer the questions. Nevertheless, the consensus among the common folk was that The Donald won because he was… well, The Donald.

After three years of He Who Is Not My President, I find there is nothing to laugh about any more only sadness in watching the Democratic candidates tearing each other apart.

That evening we watched the debate among ten of the 20 announced candidates for the Democratic presidential nomination. I thought all the candidates did relatively well. It seemed to lack the collection of ignorant idiots that usually mark the Republican debates. The only thing I found annoying occurred after the debate when the commentators told us who “won,” as though we had not also watched or we were too ignorant to make up our own minds.

One of the things I found both amusing and interesting was De Blasio cowering the debate moderators into changing the focus of their questions away from the candidates who were leading in the polls standing in the center of the debate stage and refocusing it on the candidates at the edges of the stage. Tomorrow, we will have the opportunity to see the other ten Democratic candidates debate. Actually, it is not a debate at all. The candidates merely answer questions as they would do in any employment interview.

After the debate, we walked the dog. When we got home we tried to turn on the TV to see if there was any movie worth seeing. The TV was not working for some reason so we went to bed.

I received the following in an email from my friend Gerry with a G who lives in Thailand and rides motorcycles:

“A rabbit runs, and hops, and only lives15 years, while a tortoise doesn’t run, and does mostly nothing, yet it lives for 150 years. And they tell us to exercise? I don’t think so.”

Take care of yourselves — Get a lot of sleep. Live like a tortoise.

 

 

 

 

PETRILLO’S COMMENTARY:

 

 

While recently cleaning out some of the detritus saved on my computer, I came across the following. It is, most likely, a copy of something I wrote for a blog at the time of the controversy over Colin Kaepernick’s kneel down to protest racial injustice during the playing of the National Anthem at an NFL game. Recently, the issue has been raised anew. Megan Rapinoe, a player on the US National Team playing in the Women’s Soccer World Cup, has also taken a knee to protest injustice and inequality.

As citizens of the United States of America, our allegiance is to the Constitution. The Constitution of the United States creates no flags or banners, no pledges, and no anthems. All those, flags, banners, pledges or anthems can be changed by simple acts of Congress. Not so with the Constitution.

What the Constitution does do, and does so clearly, is preserves the right of any individual to peacefully express his or her objection to perceived violations of their Constitutionally protected rights. No anthems, pledges or banners no matter how fervently held by some can alter or deprive a citizen of those rights, and the peaceful exercise of those rights remain available to the citizen in all cases until a ruling adverse as to that specific exercise of those constitutionally protected rights are adjudicated by a competent judicial tribunal as beyond such protections in that particular case.

This is sacred in our nation. This is what ostensibly we as a nation have gone to war to protect and for which citizens of this nation have died doing so. No banner no matter how bloody, no anthem no matter how fervently sung, and no pledge no matter how passionately believed cannot be more sacred to a citizen of the nation than this.

We see around us throughout the world a darkness descending as nation after nation falls to that ideology against which we fought our revolution and most of our wars — the evils of an autocracy of wealth, might, or ideology.

Even where our leaders may have misled us as to their purposes, citizens of our nations have fought and died believing they did so to protect their fellow citizens and the ideal enshrined in our Constitution that the individual citizen has the right to effectively protest perceived injustice and petition for its redress.
We also have by an act of Congress or Executive Action, in addition to a national anthem, a national animal: the Bald Eagle, national Motto: “In God We Trust,” national floral emblem: Rose, and a national tree: Oak. Wouldn’t it be just as unpatriotic to protest some perceived injustice in front of a rose, an oak tree or while a bald eagle soared overhead?

We must never forget that allegiance and dissent are the opposite sides of the same coin. Without allegiance, an organized society cannot continue to exist for long. Nevertheless, a society also cannot continue to exist for long if it is incapable of reforming itself. The prerequisite to reform is dissent.

When one thinks about it, what is the greater insult to the flag or the anthem, someone kneeling to protest injustice or someone marching in a parade or during the playing of the National Anthem carrying a Swastika or the Confederate battle flag? Interestingly, the Constitution protects all three.

 

 

 

 

 

MOPEY JOE’S MEMORIES:

 

 

In my previous T&T post, I published a portion of a long lost draft describing a critical point in the approval of legislation creating California’s coastal zone protection program over forty years ago. The following continues that story:

The Chief of Staff pointed out that all the recalcitrant Senators were very committed to the interest groups opposing the bill but suggested one Senator that he felt would have the qualifications the Governor desired. I readily agreed.

While, in my experience, most legislators seem unqualified for most things, especially formulating public policy and the legislation necessary to carry it out, they are as a whole experts in getting elected. The Senator in question was an expert in busses. He owned a two-bus company and had managed to acquire a contract to provide bus service to a rural elementary school in his district. He entered his first political race for the State Senate as a very dark horse candidate and then surprised everyone by, in conjunction with the other bus owners in the district, appearing at the polls with many busloads of voters mostly from his ethnic group and who had rarely, if ever, voted before.

Following his stunning upset victory, he settled into the life of an elected representative by rarely speaking at legislative hearings and voting reliably for the interests of those who now financed his reelection campaigns in sufficient amounts for him to mostly forgo the busses at election time.

The Governor turned to the Chief of Staff and directed him to call the Senator and set up a meeting with him. He also told him to assemble all the parties in interest, the lobbyists involved and the members of the agency affected by the legislation. I then left the office and returned to my own.

A few hours later, I received a call from the Chief of Staff directing me to attend another meeting with the governor. This time he sent me to a room just off the temporary legislative chambers. The legislative chambers had been moved to temporary quarters because the Capitol building was undergoing restoration at the time.

I arrived at the designated room. It was a large space recently constructed for some unknown purpose and located near the temporary legislative chambers. I entered through a long ramp. The room was empty of furnishing except for a folding card table, two folding chairs and a lone telephone sitting on top of the table. About 20 or so people were milling about. I could see several representatives of the Party’s staunchest interest group standing together in a line looking like undertakers at a funeral. I was told that when the state police were ordered to round up the interested parties and bring them to the meeting, one of the leading members of this particular group escaped out the back door of his house and drove away to hide somewhere. I do not know how true that story was, but given the impact of the legislation on his interests, his absence was notable and curious.

There were also a few lobbyists and representatives of other interests there. I spotted the director of the governmental agency most affected by the bill who was talking with the lobbyist that represented many of the groups supporting the bill. I caught their eyes and nodded to them, but before I could move over to join them, the Governor walked down the ramp and without speaking to anyone went directly to the card table and sat down on one of the folding chairs.

Almost immediately following the governor’s entrance, I noticed the Chief of Staff and the Senator in question also moving down the ramp. The Chief of Staff leaned toward the Senator and spoke to him in a low voice. I was close enough to the ramp to hear what he said. “Senator,” he whispered, “ we are only one vote short on the bill and you are it.” That, of course, was a lie, but lying, after all, is the stock in trade of politics.

The Senator, a short roly-poly man then entered the room and saw all those assembled there. He stopped. His eyes widened. He then spotted the lineup of the representative of the Party’s powerful supporting group, blanched slightly, and nodded to them. He then moved on to the table at which the Governor sat and plumped himself on the chair across from him. “Hello Governor,” he said in a low and somewhat wary voice.

Instead of greeting him in return, the Governor leaned in and asked, “Senator, what’s your problem with the bill?”
(To be continued)

 

 

 

 

PEPE’S POTPOURRI:

 

 

A. Tuckahoe Joe’s Blog of the Week: Another Snag from Logarithmic History.
As anyone who reads T&T should realize by now that, as a history buff, I have a fondness for this particular blog. The entry reproduced below is both more humorous and prurient than most in the blog focusing as it does on the differences between early humans and our great ape brethren in the physical equipment available for procreation.

What do women want?

As we noted in the last post, human females conceal ovulation (no chimp-style monthly sexual swellings) but advertise nubility (with conspicuous fat deposits). Presumably, this has to do with sexual selection, via male mate choice. But sexual selection may have operated in the opposite direction, on male anatomy, as well.

Males of most primate species have a baculum or penis bone. Human beings and spider monkeys are the exceptions. (A mnemonic: the mammals with penis bones are PRICCs – primates, rodents, insectivores, carnivores, chiropterans=bats.) The baculum helps to retract the penis when it’s not in use, so males in our species, lacking a penis bone, have more conspicuous dangling organs than most primate males.

This information comes from a recent book The Evolution of Beauty: How Darwin’s Forgotten Theory of Mate Choice Shapes the Animal World – and Us, by Robert Prum. Prum also cites a paper arguing that Adam’s “rib” (Hebrew tsela), the thing God used to make Eve (Genesis 2:21-23), was actually his baculum, providing a creationist explanation of “congenital human baculum deficiency.” The book contains lots of interesting tidbits like this, although its central argument — that sexual selection via mate choice is largely a result of non-adaptive aesthetic preferences — is shaky.

Men’s penises lack something else found in most primate species: most male primates have keratinized spines on their penises. But a gene involved in the development of penis spines got turned off in our evolutionary lineage, sometime after our split with chimps, but before our split with Neanderthals. We’re not sure why. Penis spines might be favored in promiscuously mating species if they help one male dredge out sperm left by earlier matings with other males. So (relative) monogamy in our lineage might remove the evolutionary advantage of spines. But a non-spiny penis might also be less sensitive, and make for more prolonged intercourse.

If all this doesn’t answer the question “What do women want?”, it at least narrows down the possibilities a bit: not men with bony, spiny penises, apparently.

 

 

 

B. Trenz Pruca’s Observations:
The age-old bind in politics — is the candidate an ideologue or idiot?

 
C. Today’s Poem:

 

Flower Song of Nezahualcoyotl in Nahuatl and in English Translations:

 

SONG OF THE FLIGHT

In vain I was born. Ayahue.

In vain I left the house of god and came to earth. I am so wretched! Ohuaya, Ohuaya!

I wish I’d never been born, truly that I’d never come to earth. That’s what I say. But what is there to do? Do I have to live among the people? What then? Princes, tell me! Aya. Ohuaya, Ohuaya!

Do I have to stand on earth? What is my destiny? My heart suffers. I am unfortunate. You were hardly my friend here on earth, Life Giver. Ohuaya, Ohuaya!

How to live among the people? Does He who sustains and lifts men have no discretion? Go, friends, live in peace, pass your life in calm! While I have to live stooped, with my head bent down when I am among the people. Ohuaya, Ohuaya!

For this I cry – Yeehuya!- feeling desolate, abandoned among men on the earth. How do you decide your heart – Yeehuya! – Life Giver? Already your anger is vanishing, your compassion welling! Aya! I am at your side, God. Do you plan my death? Ohuaya, Ohuaya!

Is it true we take pleasure, we who live on earth? Is it certain that we live to enjoy ourselves on earth? But we are all so filled with grief. Are bitterness and anguish the destiny of the people of earth? Ohuaya, Ohuaya!

But do not anguish, my heart! Recall nothing now. In truth it hardly gains compassion on this earth. Truly you have come to increase bitterness at your side, next to you, Oh Life Giver. Yyao yyahue auhuayye oo huiya.

I only look for, I remember my friends. Perhaps they will come one more time, perhaps they will return to life? Or only once do we perish, only one time here on earth? If only our hearts did not suffer! next to, at your side, Life Giver. Yyao yyahue auhuayye oo huiya.
Romances de los Señores #36 (21r-22v)

(Composed when Nezahualcoyotl was fleeing the king of Azcapotzalco, either during his first flight in 1418, when he was 16, or during his second flight, around 1426, when he was 24. This is the earliest poem that we can date.)
IN CHOLOLIZTLI CUICATL

O nen notlacatli. Ayahue!

O nen nonquizaco teotl ichan in tlalticpac. Ninotolinia. Ohuaya ohuaya!
In ma on nel nonquiz in ma on nel nontlacat ah niquitohua yece. Yeehuaya! Tlen naiz anonohuaco tepilhuan? At teixco ninemi? Quen huel xon mimati. Aya Ohuaya ohuaya!

Ye ya nonehuaz in tlalticpac? Ye ya tie in nolhuil? Zan nitoliniya tonehua noyollo tinocniuh in ayaxcan in tlalticpac ye nican. Ohuaya ohuaya.

Quen in nemohua—Aya!—in tenahuac? Mach ilihuiztia nemia tehuic teyaconi. Aya! Nemi zan ihuiyan zan icemelia. In zan nonopechteca zan nitolotinemi a in tenahuac. Ohuaya ohuaya.

Zan ye ica nichoca—Yeehuaya!—nicnotlamati no nicnocahualoc in tenahuac tlalticpac. Quen quinequi noyollo—Yeehuaya!—ipal nemohuani? Ma oc melel on quiza a icnopillotl. Huiya! Ma oc timalihui—Aya!—monahuac titeotl. At ya nech mikitlani? Ohuaya ohuaya.

Azomo ye nelli tipaqui ti ya nemi tlalticpac? Ah ca za tinemi ihuan ti hual paqui in tlalticpac. Ah ca mochi ihui titotolinia. Ah ca no chichic teopouhqui tenahuac ye nican. Ohuaya ohuaya.

Ma xi icnotlamati noyollo. Yeehuaya! Maca oc tle xic yococa. Yeehuaya! Ye nelli in ayaxcan nicnopiltihua in tlalticpac. Ye nelli cococ ye otimalihuico in motloc monahuac in ipal nemohua. Yyao yyahue ahuayye oo Huiya.

Zan niquintemohua—Aya!—niquilnamiqui in tocnihuan. Cuix oc ceppa huitze in cuix oc nemiquihui? Zan cen ti ya polihuia zan cen ye nican in tlalticpac. Maca cocoya inyollo itloc inahuac in ipal nemohua. Yyao yyahue ahuayye oo Huiya.
Romances de los Señores #36 (21r-22v)

 

Discussion.
Nezahualcoyotl (Hungry Coyote) was considered by his peers to be the greatest poet of ancient Mexico. His compositions had vast influence, stylistically and in content. Filled with thought, symbol, and myth, his poetry moved his people’s culture so deeply that after his death generations of poets to follow would stand by the huehuétl drum and cry, “I am Nezahualcoyotl, I am Hungry Coyote,” and sing his poems and keep them alive.

Nezahualcoyotl was not only a great lyric poet but was famed as an architect, engineer, city planner, reluctant warrior, law-giver and philosopher. The cultural institutions he established included a library of hieroglyphic books, a zoological garden-arboretum, and a self-governing academy of scholars and poets. He led his city-state out of foreign domination and transformed it into a wellspring of art and culture. The seventh ruler (tlacatecuhtli) of Tezcoco, a large pueblo on the north shore of Lake Tezcoco, ten miles across the water from the capital of the Aztecs, Hungry Coyote promoted a renewal of Toltec learning, based on the peaceful religion of Quetzalcóatl, at the very moment when the Aztec cult of sacrifice was coming into ascendancy. All the Nahuatl-speaking city-states in the Valley of Mexico looked to Hungry Coyote’s Tezcoco as the cultural center of their world.

 

 

 

D. Comments on previous T&T Post:

 
1. In a very nice message to me about the previous T&T post, Ruth Lansford included the following fascinating story:

You touched on several stories I’m quite familiar with — Gen Smedley Butler and John Wesley Hardin, among them. My late husband, Bill began his writing career in NYC doing stories for what used to be called “men’s magazines”. Lots of them were westerns and war stuff. Did one on “Old Gimlet Eye” Butler and one on Hardin. He was quite familiar with the Hardin story because his father, born (1886) and raised in El Paso, recalled the day Hardin was killed. He was out on the street when Hardin rode into town, passed by him and told him not to hang out on the street. A little while later, Hardin was killed in that saloon. As for Butler, he was one of Bill’s heroes because of the role he played in the bonus march and his blunt assessment of the military. (Bill was a USMC vet.) Now, of course, Butler is a USMC hero, but at the time he was hated by the spit and polish regulars.

 

2. Regarding my comments on the debate during WWII about initiating a second front by either a risky amphibious attack along the Normandy coast by Allied forces or continuing the push into Germany using the troops already engaged on the Italian peninsula, Terry Goggin opined:

A short note on WHY D DAY in Normandy, rather than continue the Italian offensive through the Italian or Austrian Alps.

An easy answer is that it’s far faster to get to Berlin by going through France than through the Alps. But the real strategic reason was the fear that the Soviet Union could go through Germany, crossing the Rhine and not stopping until the Soviet armies reached the Atlantic, while the Anglo American Army was stuck in the Alps or the Balkans.

In addition, we were losing lots of men in Italy to no strategic purpose. Italy was a dead end so far as Gen George Marshal and FDR were concerned. War is hell no matter where you fight it. Lots of death and destruction. The only question is where can you achieve the most for the least cost. And it was fairly obvious, at least to them, that that was through the flat plain of northern France through the Rhineland and on to Berlin. In fact, Churchill and the Brits consistently opposed a direct assault on the French coast, preferring attacking at the periphery: North Africa, Sicily, and Italy. But FDR put his foot down at the 1943 Tehran Big Three Conference and announced (in secret of course) that the USA would land in France in early 1944. And so it happened and, my view is, it was not a “racket “ but an absolute requirement to liberate Europe from the Nazis and keep it from being overrun by the Russians.

 

So noted.

Terry also commented on my story about the passage of the Coastal Act of 1975.

I am fascinated by your description of Jerry Brown’s tactics to pass the coastal act. I was in the Assembly at the time and had no idea of the difficulties you had in the Senate. I just assumed Jerry Smith and the Governor had it in the bag. Obviously, that was not true. I’m anxious to hear the balance of the story and how you got your four votes. As I recall there were a few judicial appointments made after that vote. What else?

 

I do not know anything about any judicial appointments, but I would not doubt it.

 

 

 

 

TODAY’S QUOTE:

 

 

One of the commentators on CNN recently opined:

“The media confuses celebrity with power. AOC is a celebrity, Nancy Pelosi has power.”

 

 

 

TODAY’S CHART:

 

Pasted Graphic

 

 

 

TODAY’S PHOTOGRAPH:

16996379_10212804685208972_2276347137766292037_n
My Granddaughter Athena Dressed for Carnevale in Venice.

Categories: April through June 2019, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

This and that from re Thai r ment, by 3Th. (21Joseph 0001) January 10, 2012

THE NAKED MOLE RAT CHRONICLES:

“And so it begins, a historic departure, the Voyage of the HMS Bagel, in search of further documentation of this next evolutionary tour de force.”
Peter G

1. Chronicles: A soldiers life:

I am called Glabix XI or Eleven for short. Being a soldier is not too bad a life. Once the Old Horror, The Queen, may she long live and reign in peace and prosperity, chose her consorts (one of whom was my father) the rest of us were free to go about our business without all that hustling about, preening and fighting for poon-tang so to speak. It takes a lot of pressure off guys. The ladies still have to hang around the nursery and the old Queen waiting for her to sicken so that they can beat each other up to see which one gets laid and takes over running things. Not us guys though, we just keep doing what were doing until one of the ladies wins the fight and in her sex-crazed madness jumps our bones. Then, for the lucky two or three guys it’s an even softer job than being a cop like me. In return for giving it up, so to speak, to the Queen whenever she is in the mood, the consort gets to boss everyone else around just like the Queen.

Most of my days are spent wandering the tunnels searching for things that do not smell right, usually that means there is an intruder to deal with. It is pretty easy stuff really, except when the Old Horror, The Queen, my beloved mother, may her reign be long and glorious, is up and about pushing everyone around for whatever it is that itches her tooth at that moment. If truth be known most of us soldiers are a big and lazy lot, but when the time comes we do our job. Our job…? Well primarily, it is to push out from the tunnels those things that do not smell right. Sometimes when it is something too big and too dangerous to push out, it is the job of one of us soldiers to, well, give ourselves up to be eaten so that the intruder busys itself dining long enough for the rest of us to wall off the tunnel the intruder used to get in. I know it is a thankless job, but someone has to do it.

2.Heterocephalus G awards: Awarded to those who most contribute to paving the way for the rise of The Naked Mole Rat.

Today’s award goes to Kevin DuJan a gay man from Chicago’s Boystown who it is reported claimed in his blog that, because of his opposition to Gay Marriage and support of right-wing politicians such as Sarah Palin, leftist gays are secretly conspiring to deny him dates with “hot twinks” and are poisoning his cocktails at his favorite bar.

(Keep on fighting the good fight Kevin.)

3. H. Glaber fellow travelers:

Rufus (voiced by Nancy Cartwright) is a naked mole-rat, the pet friend, and soul brother of Ron Stoppable in the Wiki (Disney) cartoon Kim Possible (http://kimpossible.wikia.com/wiki/Rufus). Rufus lives almost full-time in Ron’s pocket, and accompanies him everywhere. He is exceptionally intelligent for an animal, but average by human standards, and is capable of limited speech.
In the episode Oh No Yono!, he was the first one to be turned into a statue by Yono the Destroyer.

H. Glaber says, check it out.

TODAY’S FACTOIDS:

1. 2012: Five statistics about today’s America:

1. A staggering 48 percent of all Americans are either considered to be “low-income” or are living in poverty.
2. Back in 1980, less than 30% of all jobs in the United States were low-income jobs. Today, more than 40% of all jobs in the United States are low-income jobs.
3. Electricity bills in the United States have risen faster than the overall rate of inflation for five years in a row.
4. A higher percentage of Americans are living in extreme poverty (6.7%) than has ever been measured before.
5. According to a study that was just released, CEO pay at America’s biggest companies rose by 36.5% in just one recent 12 month period.

2. 1789: The American Constitution was Drafted. What do you think our Founding Fathers were smoking while they wrote it?

“Some of my finest hours have been spent sitting on my back veranda, smoking hemp and observing as far as my eye can see.”
~Thomas Jefferson

“Make the most of the Indian hemp seed, and sow it everywhere !”

~George Washington

“Hemp is of first necessity to the wealth & protection of the country.”
~Thomas Jefferson

“We shall, by and by, want a world of hemp more for our own consumption.”
~John Adams

Was it possible that the patriotic boys of the Continental Army, marched off to battle the British Red Coats while stoned on weed? No wonder they won.

I can picture General Georgie the Washman, just before stepping on that boat prior the surprise attack on the British troops in Trenton, knowing he was going to freeze his ass off during the crossing, taking a toke or two to help him weather the voyage. How do you think the Continental Army was able to survive that bone-chilling winter at Valley Forge?

And what about TJ living large and enjoying it on that back veranda at Monticello watching his sweating slaves work his fields through the haze of smoke curling up from the joint he is holding in one hand while his other hand snakes under Sally Hemming’s skirt to stroke her rump. Now that’s what patriotism is all about.

The Real Birth of a Nation.

3. 2011: It’s against the law to lie on television in Canada.

Canadian conservatives tried to change that law so FOX could broadcast in Canada. They were unable to get the law changed, so FOX does not operate in Canada!

(eh!)

TODAY’S NEWS FROM THAILAND:

The Nation:

Of the two national English language newspapers in Thailand, “The Nation” is considered the tabloid, and until recently I have always assumed was the more conservative of the two and the one most strongly supportive of the party opposed to Thaksin the Terrible, the exiled fugitive elder brother of the current Prime Minister Princess Lucky Girl. My perception may have been wrong. I recently noticed a decided shift in its editorial and headline policy to be more sympathetic to the current government.

POOKIE’S ADVENTURES IN THAILAND:

Not much to report. I have begun preparation for my return to the US on January 24. Other than that I have continued to swim every day and have gone to see,”The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo,” and “Tinker, Tailor…” at the movies. I enjoyed both very much although how one could comprehend “Tinker, Tailor…” without reading the book or having seen the Alec Guinness version, I will never understand.

I thought “Dragon Tattoo,” was worth seeing for Rooney Mara’s retaliatory rape alone. When she looked down at her now cowering tormentor with the black rings around her eyes and explained to him that he should fear her because her social service investigators opinion was true, she was insane, it brought tears to my eyes.

PETRILLO’S COMMENTARY:

In prior posts and in my blogs, I have repeatedly warned of the inevitable crises and economic and political turmoil resulting from impending mass migrations of populations displaced by war, revolution, climate, political or economic disruption. It is already being felt in many parts of the world today. According to Michael Wertz and Laura Conley:

“The United Nations’ recent Human Development Report stated that, worldwide, there are already an estimated 700 million internal migrants—those leaving their homes within their own countries—a number that includes people whose migration is related to climate change and environmental factors. Overall migration across national borders is already at approximately 214 million people worldwide, with estimates of up to 20 million displaced in 2008 alone because of a rising sea level, desertification, and flooding.
One expert, Oli Brown of the International Institute for Sustainable Development, predicts a tenfold increase in the current number of internally displaced persons and international refugees by 2050.”

(The US is not immune. Historically once migration begins, resistance, no mater how violent has rarely, if ever, proven effective for long. The only options are, either accept it and do the best one can to assimilate the migrants into the host culture with minimal turmoil or to affirmatively relieve the causes for the migration in an effort to slow or stop it. Jingoistic and nationalist policies only causes the receiving culture greater short-term and long-term damage. The greatest disruption is from the creation of an increasingly isolated and resentful minority population that reacts by refusing to assimilate while by the sheer force of its numbers demands a share of political and economic control over the host society.)

PAPA JOES TALES AND FABLES:

See: http://papajoesfables.wordpress.com/

MOPEY JOE’S MEMORIES:

On the Edge: Stories about the Creation and Early Years of California’s Monumental Coastal Protection Program.

In the Beginning: an oft told story.

In the autumn of 1972, I was a card-carrying, pot smoking, alternative life style living, unemployed, hirsute Hippy San Franciscanus. It was about noon on a glorious fall day. I was wandering about in downtown San Francisco wondering about what I was going to do about lunch. I was just passing the newly built Transamerica Building on my way to North Beach, hippy central during those times. Out of the corner of my eye I catch sight of a very tall, very skinny bearded man emerging from the forest of columns supporting the somewhat pyramid-shaped building who was rapidly approaching me.

He was dressed more or less in the style of my cultural sub-group. That is, he was not wearing a business suit or clothing purchased from any retail store not dealing in second-hand garments. His outfit was accessorized with a red bandanna around his neck and an aluminum Sierra Club drinking cup dangling from a rope belt tied around his waist. He grabbed my arm with his long skinny fingers and Moses like, but in a surprisingly squeaky voice, said:

“You must help save the Pygmy Forest.”

Now the societal fringe movement to which I belonged at that time was very sensitive to anything that could be considered a portent of an emerging transcendental experience. Here, the sun was at its zenith and I was standing at the base of an almost pyramid like the wedding guest detained by the ancient mariner, clearly a portent portended. So in the polite manner of the denizens of New York where I was born, raised and had so recently left, I answered:

“What the fuck is a Pygmy Forest?”
(To be continued)

JOEY’S MYSTERY NOVEL:

RED STAR

Chapter: Don’t Piss off Meg:

It was late, Meg had spent a few hours a Fat Al’s offices reviewing with him the chaotic and seemingly unconnected information he had assembled. She was sure there was something in that mess of documents could help her to clear up the cause of Stephanie’s death. Later they had dinner together at a little restaurant near the office where they swapped cop stories. They were interrupted by a call from Ray. Vince Biondi and someone else were involved is a shootout at a posh hotel in downtown.

They drove down to see for themselves. Fat Al’s retired cop badge and her uniform got them past the police lines. Fat Al spoke with a few of his old colleagues in homicide. It seems the police believed that it was a gangland shooting of some sort. Three people were dead. The hotel’s restaurant staff and four diners had been herded into the large freezer in the kitchen by five armed men. The three dead bodies had been identified as some of the intruders. Apparently their target had been some other diner or diners at least one of whom was a middle-aged man seated by the maitre’d before he was hustled off into the freezer by the gunman. He had recognized the man because he had eaten there a few weeks ago. Unfortunately the reservation book page had been torn out. Al was sure they would go through the prior reservation to try to identify the diner who they both agreed was probably Vince. It would take them a few days Al guessed.

As she approached the incline that rose to pass along the edge of the cliff referred to as Devil’s Slide, where Stephanie’s automobile, like so many others, had slid off the road and crashed into the rocks and surf below, she was convinced Stephanie’s death was not an accident and somehow connected to tonight’s events at the restaurant. Stephanie had begged Vince to meet with her so that she could share some information about her husband’s death. But, she died the night before they could meet. Now someone had tried to kill Vince, or was it the woman he was with and why?

Preoccupied with her thoughts, her car climbed the hill and entered the narrow winding and often impassable road that traversed Devil’s Slide itself. The fog had begun to creep across the road making it slick and the looming curves hard to see. But she had driven this road many times before and knew it like the back of her hand. She chuckled and wondered where that expression came from. Did anyone really know the back or their hand all that well. She raised her hand to look at it and glanced into her rear view mirror. She saw a car following her closely, too closely. Stupid for someone to follow a police patrol car that closely; just looking for a ticket she thought. Then she noticed the car speed up and felt the impact as it plowed into her rear bumper. Her vehicle skidded and went out of control.
(To be continued)

PEPE’S POTPOURRI:

1. From “Not the Nation”(Thailand’s version of “The Onion”) :

Fortune Tellers Predict Record-Breaking Stupidity, Profits In 2012

BANGKOK – As the year draws to a close, Thailand’s professional soothsayers and astrologers have issued their annual predictions. Their unanimous verdict is that 2012 will be a great year for their industry, concurrent with it being a poor year for human intelligence, rational thought, and deductive reasoning.

2. You may be smarter than you think you are:

According to Psychology Today, people who use more drugs are more intelligent. “Intelligent people don’t always do the right thing,” they write, “only the evolutionarily novel thing.”

According to a study conducted by National Child Development, “more intelligent children in the United Kingdom are more likely to grow up to consume psychoactive drugs than less intelligent children.” These drugs include marijuana, cocaine, heroin, alcohol and tobacco.

“Very bright individuals (with ID above 125) are roughly three-tenths of a standard deviation more likely to consume psychoactive drugs than very dull individuals,” says Psychology Today. They ran the same study in the U.S. and found similar results.

(I always suspected my grandsons were geniuses.)

“POOKIE FOR PRESIDENT”

Please see the blog: http://papajoestales.wordpress.com/

This is what we have become:

Gordon “Chaps” Klingenschmitt is joining other right-wing activists in defending the Florida Family Association and Lowe’s, which bowed to the extremist group’s pressure to stop advertising on TLC’s All-American Muslim. Klingenschmitt prayed for God to “grant Lowe’s their greatest financial profits” and asked God to bless the FFA for “exposing the deeds of darkness.” He also labeled All-American Muslim “Islamic propaganda” and said people who oppose FFA’s pressure campaign against the reality show’s advertisers are “terrorist sympathizers.”

And yet, I still receive email correspondence from those who claim that posting this is merely “liberal” propaganda. I just have to sigh and assume they perhaps also believe “Kristallnacht” never happened. We need to remember that not all terrorists are Muslim. Some terrorists (alas much too many) claim to be God-fearing American Christians. Also, not all Muslims are terrorists or even sympathize with them although, I am sorry to say, when it comes to sympathy for terrorists the same cannot be said of conservative punditry, Faux News and the right-wing religious hierarchy all of whom at one time or another have been known to, if not urge, than at least condone terrorism and killing of those with whom they disagree. Again, I suggest we recall the words of “Mr. Conservative,” Barry Goldwater:

“I’m frankly sick and tired of the political preachers across this country telling me as a citizen that if I want to be a moral person, I must believe in “A,” “B,” “C” and “D.” Just who do they think they are? And from where do they presume to claim the right to dictate their moral beliefs to me?

And I am even more angry as a legislator who must endure the threats of every religious group who thinks it has some God-granted right to control my vote on every roll call in the Senate. I am warning them today: I will fight them every step of the way if they try to dictate their moral convictions to all Americans in the name of “conservatism.”
~Barry Goldwater

Isn’t it about time we ask some of our elected officials to show the same courage is opposing these thugs as Barry Goldwater did?

TODAY’S QUOTE:

“Natives who beat drums to drive off evil spirits are objects of scorn to smart Americans who blow horns to break up traffic jams.”-
Mary Ellen Kelly (anthropologist) (found in Whatever It Is, I’m Against It, Nat Hentoff, ed.)

TODAY’S CHART:

From Robert Frank, author of The Darwin Economy: Liberty, Competition, and the Common Good, who argues that unfettered competition may be good for individuals but can be hell for the common good.

TODAY’S CARTOON”

TODAY’S PHOTOGRAPH:

Southern California at night.

See if you can find the bright lights of Disneyland.

Categories: January 2012 through March 2012, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

This and That from re Thai r ment, by 3Th. (16 Joseph 0001) January 4, 2012

THE NAKED MOLE RAT CHRONICLES:

More about the Naked Mole Rat (NMR):

As you know I have postulated that NMR are most likely our evolutionary successors. I believe that we, humanity, should get to know our heirs better and I propose the creation of the NMR Appreciation Society. I have attached below a recent photograph of the handsome fellow (He looks a lot like some of the farangs I see sitting at the bars in Bangkok).

Recently Peter G, (not related to Kenny G.), a sometime faithful reader of these posts, sent me what I believe is the clearest, most thoughtful and insightful analysis of our beloved successor.

“Known among bureaucrats as NMRs, the [dare I say it?] NMR does indeed have a bright future. As the depredations of the Corporate Humans, southern white male radicals, Newts, and other assorted dimwits and brigands dismantle the fragile remnants of civilization and hasten the total environmental breakdown from global warming, the NMR will thrive. How and why?

 This little critter barely breathes oxygen and its metabolism is the opposite of ADD. So, as carbon dioxide levels in the atmosphere increase exponentially with global warming, the NMR will kick back in salubrious delight and thrive in its subterranean burrows while the humanoids tear each other apart and gasp for breath. The real rats and the cockroaches and mosquitos won’t bother with the NMR’s underworld; they’ll have enough to feast on above.

The warming will only benefit the NMR, which, to avoid overheating in this post-petroleum fumed world, will change its bundling habit when it’s cold (no longer necessary) and expand its habitat range. NMR burrows will increase in extent by orders of magnitude, so more room will be available and overheating will not be a problem.

Now, sharper teeth and endurance will be needed to extend the burrow network of the NMR. The NMR will adapt — after all, what’s evolution all about? — and thus be able to enhance its tuber intake, becoming bigger and stronger and eventually enabling its burrow network to underlie all of eastern Africa. Then the fun will begin, as the NMR expands its domain Out Of Africa, learning Danish in the process and having its queen becoming the toughest bitch in the hood. Oxfam, whose few workers in the region will be the last surviving humanoid remnant before oblivion, will document this NMR evolution, which is how all of this is known. Remember that the cycle continues after the Age of Kali, and the data will have reposed in the Cloud for some time already, available to those who have access.

The NMR will also evolve spiritually, it’s becoming the superior mammal simply ineluctable. The NMR eats its own feces, which aids digestion of its main source of sustenance, the tough tubers (not to be confused with The Tough Tubers who used to open for the Rolling Stones). Here’s the key: a former Indian Finance Minister routinely drank his own urine as part of his whole spiritual discipline and enhancement. The evolving NMR will obtain similar benefits from recycling its own waste matter. As its habitat range expands, so, too, will the spiritual and physical dominance of the NMR become manifest.

And so, Naked Mole Rat über alles, with a super queen whose name is Alice, ubiquitous but without malice, looking like a tooth-ed phallus. NMR Zindabad!

I invite any and all of the readers of these posts to share with me your thoughts about this formidable, yet beloved, rodent. Together we can raise world-wide awareness of NMR and its destined role in evolutionary development.

TODAY’S FACTOIDS:

     1. 2012 Climate Change:

Departure of precipitation from average for 2011, as of December 6, 2011. Remarkably, more than half of the country (56%) experienced either a top-ten driest or top-ten wettest year, a new record. Image credit: NOAA/HPC.

Note: Although the above map is consistent with most climate change models, one cannot and should not refer to statistics for any single year or any region as proof of the process exists or does not exist. However, this map describes precipitation in 2011 as it relates to a ten-year or more period and may be more indicative of long-range trends.

In a post about a year ago, I predicted the general outlines of the information displayed on this map would develop as some of the potential long-term impacts expected from carbon induced climate change trends; escalating dryness in south and southwest US and wetness along the northern portions of each coast. What I did not expect is the level of precipitation in the north-western Rocky Mountains and in the upper eastern Midwest. Nor did I foresee the significant drying trend along the California and Oregon coasts and the US southeast coast.

The increased moisture northwest of the Appalachian Mountains are easily explained by the prevailing northwest winds in northern North America carrying the enhanced moisture leaden air against their western flanks and dropping that moisture as rain or snow as the air rises over the mountain crests. I am not sure about the cause of the greater precipitation along the eastern Rockies or the lack of it along the western Sierra’s although in the latter case the map seems to merely indicate normal year precipitation patterns over the decade.

As for the extreme coastal dryness in the two areas mentioned, some drying was expected in both areas as one progressed southward. Again in California’s case and much of the Colorado River drainage, it appears 2011 was simply an average year.

The real news, however, is not whether or not these trends are continuing and long-term, but the rapidity at which they are occurring. Most information I have seen indicates that the climate induced weather changes, whatever they may ultimately be, are quickening. If that is the case, then grappling with solutions may be less appropriate than personal and societal preparation for the inevitable impacts.

Nevertheless, we should all become aware that, 300 million years ago when, due mostly to vulcanism, the earths climate changed by between 10 and 16 degrees Fahrenheit, over about 20,000 years. During that period more than 75% of all life on the planet disappeared. Currently even the most avid climate change deniers agree that in less than a century the worlds average temperature will probably increase by at least 3.6 degrees. Most scientific peer-reviewed analyses, on the other hand see that increase to be somewhere between 6 and 7 degrees.

The current debate between these who have the most to lose now from actions taken to try to halt or delay these trends and those who have little to gain from them is over whether we are merely entering a period demanding greater AC availability or whether we should begin re-arranging the deck chairs. That debate resolves itself into an argument between those that maintain we should do nothing because something always turns up and those who believe that nothing turns up unless you do something.

     2. 2012, Climate Change Debate: ! ! Regarding the so-called climate change debate I discovered the following in my review of “Climate Progress” website:

“97 out of 100 climate experts agree humans are causing global warming.

Several independent surveys find 97% of climate scientists who are actively publishing peer-reviewed climate research agree that humans are causing global warming. On top of this overwhelming consensus, National Academies of Science from all over the world also endorse the consensus view of human caused global warming, as expressed by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC).

However, movements that deny a scientific consensus have always sought to cast doubt on the fact that a consensus exists. One technique is the use of fake experts, citing scientists who have little to no expertise in the particular field of science.

 For example, the OISM Petition Project claims 31,000 scientists disagree with the scientific consensus on global warming.  However, around 99.9% of the scientists listed in the Petition Project are not climate scientists. The petition is open to anyone with a Bachelor of Science or higher and includes medical doctors, mechanical engineers and computer scientists.”

     3. The most dangerous drug in the world:

Members of the Independent Scientific Committee on Drugs, including two invited specialists, met in a 1-day interactive workshop to score 20 drugs on 16 criteria: nine related to the harms that a drug produces in the individual and seven to the harms to others. Drugs were scored out of 100 points, and the criteria were weighted to indicate their relative importance.

MCDA modeling showed that heroin, crack cocaine, and met-amphetamine were the most harmful drugs to individuals (part scores 34, 37, and 32, respectively), whereas alcohol, heroin, and crack cocaine were the most harmful to others (46, 21, and 17, respectively).

Overall, alcohol was the most harmful drug (overall harm score 72), with heroin (55) and crack cocaine (54) in second and third places.!

POOKIE’S ADVENTURES IN THAILAND:

Since my New Year’s Eve adventure, I have been lying low, swimming, napping and enjoying my massages.

The Little Masseuse seems to be losing her hair. I had an image of an aging Sinead OʼConnor as my masseuse. Recently she hinted about getting a wig, a red one. That did not surprise me as much as that, for some reason, I began to fancy one for myself. Not that I am losing my hair. Far from it. Although I now keep it short, we Petrillos are genetically incapable of losing our hair. Nevertheless, I could not understand my obsession. It was not because I was going completely grey, there are still some strands of black yet. No, I dreamt of sporting a bright red wig beneath my yellow Panama hat. If I were then to dye my neck wattle red then with my red coxcomb I would resemble a rooster wearing a straw hat. Life is strange, weird really. I think someone once said, “Dying is easy Life is hard,” or was it that boozy clown W. C. Fields who said, “Dying is easy, comedy is hard.” Whatever. Actually, if you think about it, life is interesting, death is a bore, thereʼs nothing to do anymore.

PETRILLOʼS COMMENTARY:

In 1950, finance and insurance in the United States accounted for 2.8% of GDP, according to US Department of Commerce estimates. By 1960, that share had grown to 3.8% of GDP, and reached 6% of GDP in 1990. Today, it is 8.4% of GDP, and it is not shrinking.

The problem raised by this statistic is that if the finance industry were doing what it and its captured economists tell us, that their activities were necessary to provide the financial resources to grow the economy, their percentage share in GDP should have remained the same or even decreased. Instead their share of GDP increased at a greater rate than any other sector of the economy, even greater than government, whose share of GDP actually decreased during most of this time.

What this tells me is that the financial industry rather than contributing to the growth of the economy, is focused instead on its own growth at the expense of the economy. So who needs it?

PAPA JOES TALES AND FABLES:

See: http://papajoesfables.wordpress.com/

JOEY’S MYSTERY NOVEL:

     RED STAR. Chapter: Escape (cont.):

Realizing that escape through the lobby might put innocent people at risk, Isabella chose the door to the alley. Pushing on the pressure lock with her back she swung into a crouch as she followed the door into the alley. She saw no one. Motioning for Vince to follow, she began to run toward the street. She had only gone a few feet when a car screeched to a halt blocking their way. Isabella dropped to one knee, gun outstretched prepared to fire. Vince trying to stop slipped and fell onto his already damp backside uttering the unnecessary and redundant expletive “shit.”

Before Isabella could fire the vehicle’s window descended revealing a smiling face waving at them.

“Ray,” exclaimed Isabella. She stood up and reached down to pull Vince to his feet. They ran to the car. She opened the rear door, pushed Vince in and followed.

Ray, carefully avoiding bringing additional attention to them by screeching the tires in a cinematic escape, drove carefully toward Market Street.

“Where to? Everyone OK? How you doing boss?” he asked in quick succession.

Vince, seething with resentment from his embarrassment and Isabella’s manhandling, just glared.

“Were ok. Drive to my place. I have security there. Thereʼs probably none at Vince’s apartment,” Isabella

“I need to change,” Vince interjected. “I’m sure you can do it at my place and it is safer there.”

They could hear the police sirens as they converged at the hotel. It reminded Vince of the law firm shooting at the high rise nearby. He had lost several friends there. It also took the cops a long time to get there then he thought bleakly.

They arrived at the plush high-rise condo hotel in which Isabella lived.

“Hold on to me as we cross the lobby, as though we are a little drunk,” Isabella directed. “It will help disguise why we look the way we do,” she added while wiping as much of the blood off her face with the tissues Ray handed to he when they entered the car.

Vince remained sullenly silent, but has he got out of the vehicle he, hesitated turned to Ray and said with the hint of a smile, “How come I seem to run into you everywhere?” (to be continued) !

PEPE’S POTPOURRI:

1.You may be smarter than you think you are:
Business Insider reports that an online survey of 895 Web users and experts found more than three-quarters believe the Internet will make people smarter in the next 10 years, according to results released on Friday. !! But 21 percent said the Internet would have the opposite effect and could even lower the IQs of some who use it a lot. !! Time will tell, but most experts believe the internet benefits intelligence.

     2. What “Occupy” is all about and what it really wants:

“POOKIE FOR PRESIDENT”:

Please see the blog: http://papajoestales.wordpress.com/

     1. Why are they devouring each other?

“George Will was wrong: Newt Gingrich is a Marxist Two weeks ago, George Will wrote a column in which he said Newt Gingrich “would have made a marvelous Marxist.” At the time, it seemed a little over the top, but Gingrich managed to prove Will right yesterday when he leveled this attack Mitt Romney:

 Romney and Gingrich, from bad to worse I would just say that if Gov. Romney would like to give back all of the money he’s earned from bankrupting companies and laying off employees over his years at Bain, that I would be glad to listen to him.’

These are not the words of a conservative who believes in the free market system. This is the world view of a socialist bent on redistributing wealth.

Conn Carroll Senior Editorial Writer at the very conservative Washington Examiner calling Newt a “Marxist”.

     2. P.J. O’Rourke, author and conservative political commentator discusses the differences between the parties:

“The Democrats are the party that says government will make you smarter, taller, richer, and remove the crabgrass on your lawn. The Republicans are the party that says government doesnʼt work and then get elected and prove it.”

TODAY’S QUOTE:

“Just as I was instrumental in exposing the bribery of the Clintons by China during their administration, concerned citizens need to be hard at work uncovering the bribery of Obama by the Iranians. I for one am investigating this likelihood. Bill Clinton and his criminal wife, Hillary, were the “Manchurian Candidates,” but Obama and Hillary are now the “Islamic Iranian Candidates,” an analogy the movie that depicted how Chinese communists infiltrated the highest reaches of our government. The primary explanation for Obama and Clinton rolling over for the Iranian Islamist mullahs is that they

were paid off, that is, bribed. This occurred during the Clinton years with communist China, so it is not farfetched that it is happening now. Obama and Clinton need the campaign cash to win the next elections, just as Bill and Hill needed it in 1996 to defeat Republican presidential candidate Bob Dole.”

Larry Klayman, the founder of Judicial Watch and the current head of Freedom Watch and major supporter of the so-called Christian Right.

(Wow! Aren’t you glad you have someone like Larry watching over our Democracy?)

TODAY’S CHART:

TODAY’S CARTOON”

TODAY’S PHOTOGRAPH:


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THE INHERITOR — THE NAKED MOLE RAT — IT IS OUR FUTURE

Now some of you may not consider Heterocephalus Glaber here as the epitome of beauty, but we must remember, during the Pleistocene, when our first ancestors swung down from the trees onto the veldt, to those sitting atop the food chain they must have appeared unprepossessing in the extreme. In a land populated by sleek, magnificently fanged felines, lithe and graceful gazelles, handsome dire wolves and muscular and gloriously horned ruminants these scrawny creatures must have been met with disdain and revulsion. Instead of the magnificent dentition of the predators of that age, their teeth were repulsively tiny and virtually worthless. They ambulated unsteadily on two legs like diseased creatures. Neither claws nor shiny hooves graced their extremities. Instead of a lustrous pelt they were virtually naked with hair sprouting in tufts seemingly at random about their bodies. And, the face, squashed in like it had been stepped on by a Mastodon. These creatures, our ancestors, were down right ugly and revolting.

So look again at H. Glaber of the future. Imagine this magnificent creature striding across its world, the master of all it surveys.

Categories: January 2012 through March 2012, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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