Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Merry. Blasted. Christmas.

In what has become a 2014 tradition for me, I got released from the hospital a few hours ago. A severe case of cellulitis, lower right leg. While the left leg is still in the process of healing a substantial DVT. Adding in the particularly horrible little curse I have, teh diabeetus, health care professionals reacted excitedly. 

Overnight Sunday through this AM, a blur - I respond very poorly to narcotic painkillers. (Sweetheart can take oxycodone and do beadwork; I take mere vicodin and forget what vision smells like.)  

As IV antibiotics in adorable quantities started making some difference yesterday, I noticed an annoying little cough, which before too dreadfully long turned into a rather frightening difficulty breathing. One freakout, set of bloodwork, and chest x-ray later, I've added the Flu A to my facebook favorites. My sweetheart, 3 nights by me nearly constantly, royal pain in the ass to nurses, doctors, custodians and food services, had been a champ, but by this morning I'd re-payed her. With the Flu. Fudge.

We're back now, my leg looking like roadkill, feeling like a chew toy, only reluctantly supporting my somewhat dizzy body, and with a remarkable stew of pharmaceuticals floating through my bloodstream. My wife out cold under 170p.s.i. of blankets. I'm only up for a bit yet, due to pill scheduling that will overrule my typical routine for the next few days, but I've managed to hit a few personal perennial Christmas traditions tonight.

I kind of wish my new 2014 traditions will die quietly and then spontaneously combust in a bucket of gasoline on the floor of the oxygen tank storage room for the maintenance shop at the flour mill. But Christmas, shit. Still love it, and no fucking medical bullshit gets to take it. And since it is, right now, Central Standard Time, midnight,


Sunday, December 21, 2014

The NRA - Depraved Or Criminal Weenies. I Report, You Get Squicked

Setting, NRA Headquarters, Fairfax Virginia, a very well appointed office. Framed giclée prints of firearms line the wall. Oak desk, oddly somewhat taller than most.
Cast, Wayne LaPierre, now entering the office. Well pinned suit, hair slicked back, almost shellaced. He is followed by a young woman in a standard business pantsuit, in an Advantage™ camouflage pattern, carrying a number of documents and newspapers that she then places on the desk. WLP picks up the New York End Tmes.
Wayne LaPierre: absent-mindedly "Thank you, Miss HotLoad."
Miss HotLoad: quietly, exasperated "For the goddammed last time, my name is Conner." normal tone "Of course sir."
WLP: "Anything important in the world this morning, babe?"
Miss Conner: again, quietly, exasperated "I should have listened to my mother." a normal, but somewhat nervous tone, as if she knows exactly what will happen next "Well, there's been a school shooting, about 130 kids dead."

Miss Conner has worked with Mr. Lapierre long enough to catch the momentary break in his facade, the hint of a grin, and turns away as Mr. Lapierre ducks below the desk. She hears a low moan, and 7 seconds later Mr. Lapierre re-appears.

WLP: almost giggling "Ok, Miss HotLoad. I'll need the PR people. Standard drill, no official response from us for a few days, anyone who says anything is politicizing a tragedy, the kids should have had guns, and so on."
MC: now genuinely nervous, and a hint of disgust "Mr. LaPierre, it wasn't in the US, Peshawar Pakistan."
WLP: the facade has dropped in its entirety, ear to ear grin "So not christian, or white?"

Mr. LaPierre drops below the desk, moaning, the sound of a head bouncing off the bottom of a desk drawer. Miss Conner turns her back on the desk, throws up a little in her mouth, tries to distract herself - who do the Packers play, who the hell makes camouflage pantsuits, and who chooses them for a uniform, why didn't I listen to my mother. Mr. Lapierre pulls himself up above the desk in 33 seconds.

WLP: casual "Hrmmff. Miss HotLoad, cancel the drill. That will be all. And, you know, thanks."

What? I suspect I'm right, or at least close.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Random Football Post

All opinions are my own and correct.

Wisconsin Badgers vs Ohio State Buckeyes

I'm a little surprised to see Wisconsin as a 3-4 point favorite, honestly. It's going to be brutal. On our side, it's on a neutral field, Indianapolis Lukas Oil (a city also known as Hell, the air handlers work overtime, the filters being changed every half-hour.)

  • Playing indoors, Melvin Gordon can take full advantage of a dry field.
  • Also due to being played indoors, Joel Stave's famous 'where-is-it-going' misdirection passes could find a target.
  • Our offensive line is much better than any offensive line OSU has seen this year.
In OSU's favor, they are a really good football team, JT Barrett or no.
  • The team is playing for a spot in the CFB playoffs, the oh-so-scientific way the NCAA has come up with to choose a national champeen
  • OSU will have some emotion, playing for Kosta Karageorge and Barrett
My pick - 24-21 Badgers but I would not put money on that.

Notes - The NCAA And Amphibian Molestation

As an important aside, one sort of hopes that the suicide of Karageorge can get some push into the NCAA and NFL doing something about the freakin' concussions. It won't, of course - the NCAA has a code of Omerta that the Mafia aspires to, and is one of the leading criminal organizations in the country with their wildly inconsistent rules about amateurism. The NFL is not far behind.

Speaking of the NCAA and criminal behaviour, I heard a good theory this morning about Jameis Winston, FSU QB, who is not going to be drafted as high as he is thinking. FSU will punish him, starting January 13, the day after the college championship game. He won't be back for the spring semester anyhow; he is expected to declare for the NFL draft. Speaking of the NFL and criminal behaviour, someone will draft him, but, as I said, not as high as he is thinking. 

As for the Champeenship Tourney, only one SEC team. Good, I hate 'em. I'm not particularly fond of Oregon either, but I can live with them winning out.

As far as the Heisman Trophy, it'll probably be the twerp QB from Oregon, further proving the NCAA and all sportswriters have their collective heads so far up their collective asses they use gastric depressurizations to style their combovers.

Green Bay Packers vs The Mighty Atlanta Falcons

Atlanta is feeling good, expecting to host a playoff game with a frightening 5-11 record. I'm not complaining about the NFC South - that's just how it goes. ESPN can shut the fuck up and live with it. As for the game, I expect a solid victory for the Packers. 

The Packers are the top of the NFC right now, Arizona has lost momentum. We have a chance to run the table, although I am a little concerned about Buffalo. They can play some ugly football and win, and I think could surprise someone looking past them to Detroit. As for Detroit, they have so far avoided their time-honored of imploding in Week 9, but now have reached December, with their time honored tradition of lying down like a cheap Persian Rug embroidered with a Kincade painting.

Special Note From The Management

My puppy likes to lick Punkboy cat. Okay, so my dog will have hairballs. Wevs. The Punk will take it up to the point that Jaxson attempts to swallow his head. Then it's on. Take the points on the feline.

The Minnesota Vikings - Just Cuz I Lives Here

The Queens, watching their enormous boondoggle going up in Minneapolis, have shown sparks. Although I can't document it, mostly because it is not on a document, I picked them at the beginning of the season to go 6-10. Imma revise that to 7-9. Couple more players and the patience to not brutally turn on their QB and I could see 8-8 down the road. Still not good, but. 

Zygi Wilf is a savage failure of the human experience. When he kicks it, there are not enough anti-rejection drugs on earth to allow the possibility of organ transplant. A toad, and not the good lickable kind. He believes he's Machiavelli's Prince. I suspect he's a bit more Carrot Top.

The Peterson saga is near an end, Goodell screwed up the situation to the point where any judge will reinstate him, but the MN sports market, surprisingly, has sort of said the hell with him. I suspect he doesn't play this season unless MN goes ahead tomorrow with the almost inevitable trade to the Cowboys. 

And stuff.

Sunday, November 16, 2014

This And That

There's this: wrote a listicle today, 5 Reasons The NFL's Way More Evil Than You Thought Possible. It's pretty good for illustration purposes, but misses some examples, and misses the mark badly on Example #3 (The Players Are Screwed as Soon as They Leave the Game).

  • Huge missed example # 1. Ray 'The Murderer' Lewis is working for ESPN Gameday. I know, it's not new or surprising, but still, it bears repeating. Ray 'The Murderer' Lewis gave commentary on the Ray Rice situation. How 'The Onion' stays in business? I suspect a blood spattered altar, Georgio Tsoulokos, and an apparently endless supply of chickens and wildebeests.
  • Missed example # B. Adrian Petersen of the Minnesota Vikings, having been granted a free walk by Texas courts (note my shock) for beating the ever-living hell out of his child, will be playing next weekend. No, I have no inside information, I'm just semi-literate. Imma ignore the terminally fucked NFL systems for enforcement of the minimum standards of being a human being (see: Ray 'The Murderer' Lewis) and say that a ridiculous number of NFL fans will dance in the streets at the official announcement. People suck, Kids!
  • Huge missed mark # Π. Their third argument is that 'The Players Are Screwed As Soon As They Leave The Game', and they speak of pension and health care issues for players post-career, and how they often don't have the skills to survive after football. Cracked is off the mark; for although the pension and health-care issues are very valid, they are missing that the American Football Dream takes the priorities for existing in society and sets them on fire in the middle of a major highway. Any player showing a flash of talent in Pop Warner is done with homework and studying through the end of college. Graduation from college is rare, graduation from college with a career track not involving a paper hat rarer still. Although the NFL drives the dream, society is to blame. High school and college sports need serious reforms, starting with setting the NCAA on fire in the middle of a major highway, following up with setting and enforcing requirements for grading and coursework, and topped off with imprisonment and ball-gagging of any parent trying to re-live their pathetic pasts through their children.

Some of that:

I am recovering from my fourth DVT in 6 years. On the blood-thinner routine, and unfortunately, while Imma not actually call it routine, I'm too familiar with it and run the risk of not taking something that can be very immediately fatal seriously enough, especially when I am so annoyed and difficult to be around. I got shit to do, dammit! Any rate, I'll be on lifelong thinners now, so no tripping and smacking my melon on anything. W00t!

Speaking of football, the goddam Vikings can't even win one of the two or three games* I want them to win per year. And I'M helping to pay for their damn stadium. Bastiges.
*both Bears games and if they play Dallas. Otherwise, lose, bitches.

A bit of wossname:

More revelations from the Catlick Choich regarding ArchBishop Harry Flynn (emer), Vicar General Kevin McDonough, and ArchBishop John Nienstadt for covering up pedophilic priests. Ramsey Cty Atty John Choi ( does not seem to be leaping to empanel a Grand Jury to indict, and send to trial, these bastards, and all the priests they've hidden over the years. Drop him a Christmas Card, whydoncha! 
And for those arguing that the Statute of Limitations has passed, perhaps for this collection of child-porn for this priest. But he's amassed a new collection, almost without question - go to Massachusetts, kick in the worthless fucker's door, and check. And the ArchDiocese was actively covering up this crime until last year, so the crime of aiding and abetting is pretty current. HAMMER THEM.

Monday, October 20, 2014

Dateline, Denver CO - The Police Are Ninnies

For the record, like all 6 people in my audience, I am as pure as the driven snow. Don't drink or smoke or solicit any naughty women. (I have tried, so many times, to understand the nature of the naughty women. And, clearly after curing her, I married one.) Never done anything to trouble anyone. Ehh, once, maybe.

However, I have ministered to the heathen crowd. Tokers of the bong and sinful distillations. Learned a few things, too.
  • Legal, illegal, or 40-toke-am-I-high-yet-ditchweed, the 'MaryJane', as the kids call it, is bloody expensive, as well as taking way too many surreptitious conversations to get, especially when it is entirely possible that you may may be speaking esperanto, or quoting Dave Matthews Band as if there is meaning to their lyrics, on a trac-phone. And while inhale-inhale-pass seems the be the order of the 'pot' party, it's considered poor form not to contribute. Much like a casserole party. 
  • The smokers I have ministered to, while occasionally freaky and far too into Dave Matthews Band, are not dicks.

So, let some fear-mongering settle upon your melon.

Using points one and two above, I wish to respond the the Denver PD.
  • A. My stash! MY STASH! "♩ ♫ ♯ Take these chances Place them in a box until a quieter time Lights down, you up and die ♮ ♬"
  • B. Be a dick to a kid? What do you think we are, priests?
Denver Police Department, basically, what you have done is not, in fact,
protected kids, but given ideas to assholes and publicity seekers. You are schmucks! Congratulations!

Monday, October 13, 2014

In Which paleo Speaks To Republicans - An Open Letter

I am puzzled by the ways of the internet. Not the usual nonsense though, Rule 34, Etsy, furries.

No, I want to know how I end up on Republican fundraising lists, such as this from Cory Gardner, Republican from Colorado and candidate for US Senate.

Chris Hansen
To: Me
Oct 8 at 4:56 PM

Mark Udall seems to be taking a very tough line on the threat ... 
... We deserve a leader who will do his job. We need Cory Gardner. 
Take Care,
Chris Hansen
Campaign manager, Cory Gardner for Senate 
As I am polite, though I have neither thought nor care for Mr. Udall, I felt the need to respond to such an earnest missive. 
Dear Mr. Hansen, 
It pains me to break the news to you, but you are working for an evil, evil person. If you work for him willingly, I must ask you to turn inward, try to see the point in your life where you went so terribly wrong, a turn you missed, an opportunity shunned. I'm am sorry, but remember - it is never too late. Watch some Mr. Rogers re-runs. Take a walk in a nice public park. Work a soup kitchen. 
Or, it's Colorado. 
A lot. 
Go full Maureen Dowd. 
Smoke until you can levitate the earth from under your feet, or until you understand which direction daylight savings goes. 
What I am saying, I guess, is tap into your inner human being.

Frankly, Mr. Cory Gardner is a Rep****can. In this period of our nation's history, where we suffer serious problems, the last thing we need is a conservative platform. I accept theocracy only if I am designated the Supreme Being, Commandment 1 - blessed be the distillers. I accept the savage foreign policy of bombing the hell out of anyone who looks at us crosswise only if it is applied to Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, Texas, and Chicago Bears fans. I accept racism only towards NASCAR fans. I thank birth control for allowing me to keep my full paycheck. And to be briefly non-snarkish, for-profit education and healthcare is treason. The Koch/Walton spawn are traitors. The Tea Partiers are desperately, willfully, woefully uneducated.

I'm afraid I cannot help Mr. Gardner, or his campaign, but I feel, deep within me, hope for you. Honestly, I've never felt this way about a man before. Please Chris, (May I call you Chris?), don't let me down.

Love, paleotectonics

Is Mr. Hansen going home with me, or do I owe him an apology? 

Friday, October 10, 2014

The Sound Of Ravenous Beasties

I don't own a cabin. It is unlikely, barring a number of random circumstances, that I ever will. But.

The northern night sky is the second greatest thing in life, and I can stand this view forever.

Of course, the greatest thing in life is the incredible chick next to me. Number 3? Sound of wolves in the night. The top ten is rounded out by a random mix of lefse, sasquatch, Legos (the random ones you can make your own stuff with), Jameson's, fishing, Barenaked Ladies (either definition), and a good wood fire.

Stout's Island Lodge, Birchwood, WI

Sunday, October 5, 2014

Two Day Diary

Friday, Oct. 3, 2013 - 0330

Why is my phone ringing? The hell, alarm. Gotta get up, get packed, seeing mom after work. Work, somewheres in my melon a bell is ringing, ermph, have to print up punchlist and get ahold of people. That's why I'm up. Coffee, dog, hi Jax!, oooh, my puppy skritchskritchskritch...skritch shit have to move! Where's my phones? Quick check the final score skritchskritch... GODDAMMIT!

Friday, Oct. 3, 2013 - 0510

night shifter "paleo, what in the hell are you doing here? It's like 5 in the morning..." 
paleo "garblemumblehad a fight with your wifeblumflurg" 
night shifter "What happened to your head? You don't look any weller than you normally do."  
paleo "You inspired me. I'm going for the shambling mound theme."

Friday, Oct. 3, 2013 - 0510

Going through the Kubler-Ross 5 stages of contractored work.

  1. Denial - No, I never said this was the final list.
  2. Anger - If you can't get your boss to get more guys off the bench, let me know. Imma stand on his desk and tell him exactly what I need. Possibly with sweeping arm gestures.
  3. Bargaining - C'mon, one more strong week and you'll never see the inside of this place again.
  4. Depression - I ain'tn't gonna get this done in time and my boss is going to rip my lungs out and beat me to death with them.
  5. Assessing the blame - November 3.
Friday, Oct. 3, 2013 - 1315

Everyone appears to be reasonably content. Go get some lunchhhhhhh that I forgot this morning. Along with apparently CPAP. Well, Subway and terrible night sleep it is.

Friday, Oct. 3, 2013 - 1605

In truck. Love my truck, but it is not a great traveller, stiff suspension, I know by the time I get to Phoenix La Crosse my kidneys will have failed and dribbled out my shoes. Still have radio from in town. Listen to Twin Cities sportsradio, delicious, yummy schadenfreudey tears.
Color announcer "Yeah sometimes a head coach needs to know when to dial it back a bit with the media - "
paleo "NO!, you goddam jocksniffing murderface fucker of ewes! We are building that moronic criminal Sopranos wannabe a billion dollar palace! Not only should Vikings fans expect answers from the goofy hooker, we as taxpayers ought to know his wife's recipe for tuna surprise and his Social Security number! Suck a fart!"
Friday, Oct. 3, 2013 - 1640

Okay, the driving chill factor not exactly there. Podcast? Aaaand I didn't download anything new. Pandora? Cheese? Done. Ooooo...

Friday, Oct. 3, 2013 - 1955

Made it to mom and dad's, cleaned up, dad drove us to the recovery/care center. My mom had a hip replaced Monday, 5 days later she can already stand and sit with more ease and comfort than the day before the surgery. She is such a tough chick. I am so happy, but so tired. Snuck her in some caffeine-free Diet Pepsi and some Reisens. We stayed about 45 mins.
Dad and I picked up Culvers on the way home, fish. Average, perfectly edible. Dad is surprised. Being 70+, with a german wife, one gets used to good home-cooked food, and not all fast food completely sucks. I'm too hungry and tired to notice and after inhaling a sturgeon and having a wee 5 or 6 shot toddy its beddy-bye. Know I'm gonna regret forgetting the CPAP.

Saturday, Oct. 4, 2014 - 0045

Yep. Regretting it. Just woke up from a vivid dream where I shaved my head with a plastic safety razor for I am sure a perfectly good reason, but now I had a skull full of bark-marks and blood, and all the scars on my head now visible to the world requiring I repeat the same boring stories. 

And the bed is a Temper-pedic, of which they otter be illegal, I hate the damn hot, clingy, tragically and painfully soft things.

Saturday Oct. 4, 2014 - 0800

I overslept, I blame the missing CPAP, the bed, late dinner, not enough to drink, not setting an alarm.


Saturday Oct. 4, 2014 - 0800

I overslept, I blame the missing CPAP, the bed, late dinner, not enough to drink, not setting an alarm. Want to see mom again and get out of town, get home and sleep before an overnight shift. Dad just wants me to help him a little bit with his virus protection.

Saturday Oct. 4, 2014 - 0905

Want to see mom again and get out of town, get home and sleep before an overnight shift.

This is the only briefly serious part of this 'diary', and there is much I won't go into, but. I am so proud of, and happy for, my mom. She is seriously awesome and I am a lucky, lucky person. One thing I will share - she asked me if my self-described 'weird turnaround' to see her for a total of maybe 2 hours was worth all the trouble. My answer of course being, hell yes.

Saturday Oct. 4, 2014 - 1030

Trucking back to the Twin Cities. I said above 'not all fast food sucks.' And I won't claim hypocrisy, sometimes I have a taste for McDonald's fries or a Sonic breakfast omelet and I will happily go and get them. Usually, however, if I am having fast food it is because I screwed up my eating schedule. Take everything I just said and pitch it in the trash, because I had to eat something and the only really convenient place was Burger Traitors. The food has never really been worse than most fast food, but they are traitors. I would guess, however, that the PR debacle of 'inverting' has taken a toll.
fast food worker "We're just going to make some fresh sausages for you." 
paleo "Actually, I appreciate that, being so lat-"  
microwave "beeepbeeepbeeep" 
paleo "e."
 Saturday Oct. 4, 2014 - 1300 

Home, and I have to nap, have to work overnight. Say hello to Jax, HELLO JAX!!, oh who's my puppy jesus christ you huge fucker owww! Jaxson! don't give me the look, oooooh, my puppers!!
Clean up lie down, mask on this time. Oh, that's sweet, my kitties crawled up next to daddy, and now Jaxson, between my legs, gosh, this is wonderful, umm, guys, can't move, guys? Jax? Divakittie? Whatever.

Saturday Oct. 4, 2014 - 2000 

This is going to be a long night. I know I'm tired, long day, but have to get my collective head out of my collective ass.

Sunday Oct. 5, 2014 - 0310 

Maybe not such a long night. Assuming the next hour doesn't find me crawling out from under the wreckage of several million dollars worth of switchgear to print resumes after end of night proof-test, or, an easier outcome, greasespot, given my manager's proclivity to remove pulmonary sacks from thoracic cavities involuntarily, then applying them, with wild, indeed gleeful, abandon, to a proximal skull. 


Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Back To The Village

Do-dee-do-dee-do-dooo, what to do.
Laundry, supper, try to clean teh laptop so I quit getting BSOD'ed, what's on TV, nothing, nothing, check Sweetie's TV apps that I can't figure out but pay for


The Prisoner. The original. Only 'Arrival' but okay!

I owned the series on VHS a thousand years ago, still may, but VCR? America gets 2 and 1/2 Twerps, Auntie Beeb gets the Doc*, DangerMouse, and the Danger Man. There is no good excuse not to feed every American network exec to Rover.

If you don't know the general synopsis, Patrick McGoohan, an unnamed secret agent of the Crown, quits the intelligence agency due to a violation of his own principles. Given that he has a bit too much compromising information locked away in his melon, he is kidnapped, and taken to The Village.

The Village is a life sized gaslight, the intention to take away its experiment's/resident's individuality and break down the mental walls, allowing the captors to crawl through their brains for a bit. Some of the kidnapped hold out for a while, some try to escape and end up bumping into Rover (top, and left). Eventually, most submit to the conditioning, leading to the wildly surreal community; people no longer named but numbered, pennyfarthing ID tags, simpletons and automatons.

McGoohan, now No.6, although damned if he'll accept that, is of particularly high value (and fucking PWNS an all black suit at the beginning, I mean, I'm straight and married but holy dammit), and so gets both less and more leeway than the others. The series is an acid-washed chess game between No. 6 and a series of No. 2's, men who are the Village's HMFIC, reporting to their remote masters. (It seems failure is not an option, at least in regards to No.6.)

Watch this, then find the series and watch NOW.

What some people call symbolism, I call mushrooms. Be seeing you.

*McGoohan would have made a great Doctor. As to the 12th fuck you very much Steven Moffat, the only thing I consistently like about the new Series is Capaldi. The eps have been incredibly hit and miss, often within seconds of each other. Having said that, the last ep (Sept. 27, The Caretaker) was quite good.

Monday, September 29, 2014


Been told I should post this.  And, you know, blog.

Aaaahhh, back in the day. 
When the whole family went to church for three hours every Sunday morning, and grandma just stayed and prayed so hard for another two hours for someone to get her off the kneeler. 
When children went outside, and with nothing more than a cardboard box, 37 pounds of black powder, and a dream, built a rocketship to the stars. 
When the neighborhood dog, suspiciously well fed in a neighborhood bereft of songbirds, would lick your face when he saw you on the way home from the measles party and two weeks before the measles party. 
When a man took care of his family by giving his paycheck to his high school sweetheart who then used it to pay bills and buy cleaning supplies and groceries and make supper and wrap Joey’s skinned knees in ducttape until next Thursday because Dad’s dues were due for his duties at the Kiwamoose Club. 
When mother watched her stories on the television, wrapped in a blanket on the couch cross-legged, like an Native American tribal leader, hands nowhere to be seen.
When little girls took 17 hours to make a cupcake with a 40W bulb, and when boys read adventure books such as the Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew crossover Nancy Has To Go See Her Aunt For The Next Eight Months, and Tom Swift Goes Frog-Gigging.
I may cry. Hold me.

By the way, read the Zombie and the Beer Snob. Coupla decent cats.

Saturday, July 26, 2014

Random Thoughts and Pointed Anger

I'm annoyed on many fronts, infuriated on several more, so this is gonna be one of those pot pourer thingies. To preface, I have bile in my bladder, and hate, burning, like a thousand million very vigorous exothermic reactions, in my molybdenum.

- Its been a great year for Lil' Waynie LaLil'Peter, so many many pointless deaths! So many goddam lunatics!
I'll say these things out loud again. Stringent, stringent licensing for carry of any sort - basically, if you feel a need to carry a gun, you should not ever have a carry permit. Serious reform of the police, including firing and confiscating the weapons of about 85% of the cops extant. Pay the good cops what they're worth. All confiscated weapons should immediately go to the nearest smelter. Close the gun shows...period. I'm fucking tired of the penis replacements. A guy in Minnesota ambushed his neighbor because she yelled at him for riding his mower on her lawn, she survived. But the excuse given is that he had PTSD. "Well, paleo, what are you gonna do?" Hmmm.

Please to kindly fasten seatbelt before driving off the cliff. I don't need to see any last minute gymnastics.

- The radio announcer for newsbreaks @JimMiklaszewski , known for bloody horrible jokes-
"And now there is a new way to wipe your ass! Yes, that's right, a carwash designed for donkeys has just opened..." 
must be fed to ravenous ducks, then nuked from orbit, but he did not touch this dumb person. A radio announcer from an internet station said 
(para) "the tree in Griffith Park, Los Angerless, dedicated to former Beatle George Harrison has been guffaw chuckle snort pees self eaten by beetles! Whocouldanode! Oh the irony! Oh the humanity!" dies
Shut up. Trees eaten by beetles? You've just described half of life in the Twin Cities. Its a big circle. The beetles eat the trees, the trees die, the city replants the trees, my dog eats the trees. Please note please, the Beatles were not playing amateur ornithopterists when they came up with their name, they were making a play off of Buddy Holly and the Crickets.

- By the way, George Harrison is the second greatest former Beatle, based solely on 

Listen now please.
Greatest former Beatle? Ringo. Full stop, I'm right, bugger off. While Paul was writing 'Liverpool Oratorio' , Ringo was touring with Joe Walsh. While John Lennon was in a 5 year alcoholic haze before giving half of his comeback album to Yoko Ono, Ringo was in "Caveman". Ringo always remembers it's just rock and roll, have fun and give thanks you can have a career where you can have fun. And 

is awesome.
(Also, Yoko Ono is awesome. Loves me some Yoko. She does not give a flying dammit what anyone, including me thinks of her. She can't fucking sing. She doesn't care about my opinion. Swoon!)

- I listen to a lot of podcasts, and have recently found and listened to Clyde Lewis, Portland OR radio/internet presence. Think Alex Jones without the permanent aneurysm and with a sense of humor. I know, me, right? Loves me some weirdness. I can peel through the eps to avoid the 'faked moon landing' stuff. About six months ago, he babbled about the Hollywood Sex Magick Underground, Miley Cyrus as the Trickster devil baby panda sidecar burrito, acid and sacrifice. I call it Tuesday. He is worried about the resurgence of the Satanic Panic. Ummm.
There was a real Satanic Panic in the 70's and 80's, and it wasn't about consenting adults, twerking, snorfing down every powder in sight, wiring their lesbionic accessories to the nearest 480V outlet. Real people got hurt, by cops and prosecutors seeing a sexy way to drum up business and budgets, by people looking for answers in tragedies with no answers, by worthless preachers using the threat of SATAN to protect children from thinking. People spent time in prison because prosecutors and psychologists manipulated children. Actual cases of child abuse were not enough - now there had to be baby sacrifice. Ignoring the wave of babies not being kidnapped. Pat Pulling and Bothered About Dungeons and DragonsI feel bad for her kid, feel bad for the obvious problems she had. My parents were bothered about D&D, primarily the part where I would disappear Friday at about 7pm and show up Sunday for church. We became experts at casting one spell - Repel Chicks. Goddamit, lady person, we were just little frakkin nerds, for Sauron's sake.
I apologize for this.
So Clyde, don't pretend that a bunch of Hollywood idiots playing as if they were the London Hellfire Club are any sort of trend towards armegeddon. Hell, I loves me some Miley Cyrus - she wins the Golden Troll forevah. Not especially curious about her latest chart-topper but wevs. Have fun, Miles!

(Oh, and Kennedy? I take the position of Bill Hicks, when he explained why people can't go up to the window of the Texas Book Depository Assassination Museum - because you'll look out the window and "THERE'S NO FUCKING WAY!" Oswald was very likely involved in some manner...and a patsy, and debateable as to whether he was the actual killer.)

- Its been in the 80's for the last few weeks. "Oooh, paleo what a beautiful day-y-y." 
Shut up. 80 is the gate to hell. 80.1 is hell, and the metaphorical representation of evil, who I treat much like I treat the metaphorical symbol of good, to pick a word, ummm, so much bullshit, is ramming the nearest pitchfork into your nearest available nipple. Which, you know, whatever floats yer boat. 80 does not float mine. When I take over as the metaphorical symbol of good, 55degF every goddamn day.

- Speaking of the 80's, and radio up above, I'd been on a metal shift for a few weeks, courtesy of a Twilter friend. (caution- loud, angry, cool)

Then a certain young dead friend threw me back into the young paleo days. SO I've been listening to what is laughingly called oldies radio a bit, reaching for the good:

within the huge amount of dreck.
(Imagine I have put an Eagles link here. I will not because I really respect you. You are not like those others.)
But, one point I must reiterate. The Eagles are a good band, technically proficient, well produced, and certainly like many people I've heard a lot of them. But please. Stop. No more 'Life In The Fast Lane'. No more Reelin' In the Years'. Strangle 'Stairway to Heaven'. There is a lot of music out there, qualifying as oldies/classic rock. (Poison is neither, KOOL 108 Twin Cities. Shut up.) Try 'Seven Bridges Road' or anything from when the Eagles were aping Gram Parsons. Try 'Bad Sneakers'. If you want long Led Zeppelin, try:

- Hell with it. Ta.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Frothing Bullet Eruption Is My Rebecca Black Cover Band Name

I've had a hard time following/commenting on politics lately. Not that I haven't, I've compared politicians to offal and teabaggers to tripe many times in the last few 46 years. But I'm having a hard time keeping perspective, or any sense of humor about it.

Hobby Lobby. Let's Sue The President For The Same Shit President Drooler And Vice President Shooter Did A Thousand Times. How Many Smokie Link Sized Republican Cocks Can Luke Russert Fit In His Orifi At Once. Has Governor Half Term Finally Boned The Shark. Murrieta. The last one will make another appearance

I'm a proud freak, a genuine weirdo. I believe in Bigfoot. I believe in ghosties. Not all people reporting UFOs are hallucinating or mistaken. I also believe in science. How many earthquakes must occur in Oklahoma before the inbred populace picks up on the fact that Grannie Erma is less interested in sex than she was before, and also she fell down a 500 ft. sinkhole, and oh, hey, there is a fracking operation on our patio, they paid me $49.95 for the rights and fuck you, commie.

Why do I juxtapose crypto-science and mainstream science?

The freak in me thinks mainstream scientists can be arrogant and pig-headed, and would not risk their precious reputations on the study of anything not already proven to exist. The scientist in me thinks most crypto-researchers have difficulty with the scientific method. In both cases, I am right. The two camps vociferously disagree with one another, and yet...

Bill Nye, the Science Guy, who I sacrifice a bull to daily, gave time to Ken Ham to debate whether Adam and Eve and their, for no particularly good reason, incredibly genetically diverse offspring rode a stegosaurus to the apple tree. (Note: They didn't.) Stephen Hawking has yet to mount an RPG to The Captain's Chair and go 'reason' with Lord Viscount Monckton. (Although, Dr. Hawking, we would make a fortune on PPView. I'll only take 60%. Productions fees and such. Stuff.) Although I've never met the men, as portrayed on TV, Matt Moneymaker (Finding Bigfoot) and Zak Bagens (Ghost Adventures) are complete doofi and go a long way to making the crypto-scientists look foolish.

I have yet to stalk Moneymaker with a silver bullet, or wire the Ed Hardy aisle at the Target where I suspect Bagans spends all the money to 13.8kV. There are shouting matches at conferences. There are, after 5 or 36 beers, shoving matches at conferences.


Now. politics. And in the news, the central American child refugee crisis.

Sweet FSM, but the RWNJ's have completely lost their shit. The children, refugees under a Bush era law, and just looking to get to live someplace with fewer gunshots (boy, did they go the wrong direction), need food, water, social workers. What do they get instead?

"Oh, but paleo, with modern cameras, they can do 17,000 exposures per second, and then some liberal picked out the worst ones. Like when Michele Bachmann's eyes rolled back in her head eating a corndog, realizing she hadn't deep-throated anything of this particular shape since high school. And when Marcus Bachmann's eyes rolled back in his head when eating a corndog, realizing he hadn't deep-throated anything of this particular shape since Tuesday."

You know what, imaginary right-wing screwhead, you're right. And so this may be exposure 17,000,

but 1/17,000 of a second earlier, she was hugging the children, and 1/17,000 of a second later, she had adopted a busload and taken them to her strawberry farm for reasons. (Oh, and lady, I ain'tn't certain, I don't know you, and I suspect I would endure greater joy taking a golf-ball to the yarbles than to decipher your HTea-ML, but your kids are snacking on McNuggets, playing Mario Brothers 17 - Jesus Slays the Turtles, and are scheduled for a measles party Saturday night. The refugee children have been vaccinated and WALKED ACROSS FUCKING MEXICO. To hell with your water-headed cabbages, dear.)

There are folks in Michigan, otherwise known as Alabama with snow, home of Ted Nugent, who it must be pointed out is about 18months off on his predictionalizing, who have proposed mining the border. You know what, you hookers, let's see how goddam serious you are about protecting your borders. Take out the Ambassador Bridge to Windsor, Ont. 

What, what's the difference, they's all furriners ain't they's? Thought so. Fornicate yourself.

Humanity sucks, kids. 

That's why I prefer reading about Bigfoot to the attempt to analyse most people. Plus I get less stabby, and Sweetie has informed me many times she prefers not to be a prisoner's wife.

Meh, I'm about a quarter drunk, the doggeh needs his walk yet, and I have to wake up in about several fewer hours. Just, where'd we go wrong as a species? Is the theory of devolution ahead of its time?

Monday, July 7, 2014

Luxury, We'd Have Been Thrilled For An Armageddon Level Event

I've never had any particular fear of flying my freak flag.

I believe in ghosts. Bigfeets. UFOs.

To be consistent, I suppose I must allow for the possibility of some Prime Mover of the universe. It may not be turtles all the way down. To be truly honest, cuz' I iz a geek I'd prefer the Norse pantheon, but I'm drifting off point.

The possibility of a Prime Mover then must allow the, now slimmer, possibility of The Bearded Sky Daddy (TM), watching us, protecting us, keeping video of the better masturbation sessions. This is less likely, to my mind, reasoning that if he is protecting and judging us, and choosing heaven versus hell, to read the stories and to see the world as it is, he is a capricious bastard who sucks at his job. Not to mention, any heaven/hell based, eternal reward/eternal fire type of faith denies free will, when you break it down to the quark level, and I refuse, I have my own damn free will, make my own decisions, take responsibility, to the best of my ability, for them.

Jesus? The Red Words are actually nifty, seriously, Jesus in and of his own bad self, as written and quoted, was kinda nifty, but I defy you to find one Real True Christian who has ever read the Red or who has taken them to heart. Whoops, found a point.

I do not believe in Religion (TM). As a whole, religion has never been able to balance the scales by doing enough good to counteract the evil of their very existence.

Some religions do help a bit, pass out food and clothing without prozelytizing.

Some religions build new palaces.

Pope Frank talks the talk, and appears to be trying to walk the walk. (BTW, Mr. Pope, triple your security. Please. I'm somewhat inclined to like you. No more Benedicts.)

Pope Clarence Antonin Anthony Sammybaby Roberts has a misogyny issue. (Does we needz a link? Read any newspaper from last week.) A bit. And a believing science issue. A bit. And fuck the poors, by the way, if they have a problem, they should buy their own Justices. Bicthez.

Once upon a time, I went to a Unitarian church. It didn't stick, but for the winter celebration the opening song was from Bruce Cockburn.

Sweetie and I actually joined a Catholic Church to get married. Primarily for the parents, but we were not trying to use them, we joined in good faith. The only fondness I had from church as a child was as a community-type thingy. Then Mr. Priest, upon finding out Sweetie's first husband was muslim, didn't react well or appropriately. Then, Mr. Archbishop Nienstadt, a true walking collection of yeast infection, took money from the coffers to build homeless shelters fight like a rabid amphibian against marriage equality in MN. Bye, oh high and mighty melonheaded bastards.

Things are a touch weighted in one direction, is what Imma saying. Not the good one.

Can we get past this?

Faith is faith, and good on ya if you have it in whatever. I have my beliefs, and I sleep okay. But these organizations are a touch less than useful, and a touch more than criminal fuckers.


Sunday, July 6, 2014

Life In The House Of paleo

So, it's been a few months.

First week of May, Sweetie had a knee replacement.

She'd been in pain for about 4 years, starting when she had some arthroscopic surgery to trim cartilage. I myself am convinced that this whole mess began because she was not given physical therapy after this first knee. She then favored that knee until the second was wrecked, needing similar arthroscopic surgery. PT was prescribed this time, but she know used the repaired but not corrected first knee in favor of the second, re-wrecking the first. The second knee followed up with falling apart, a few years of treatment, cortisone, a distinctly woo-pitching chiropractor, and ending with ridiculous pain in both and a need for pain killers to go buy bread. Back to the knee replacement.

So, they vegematicized her left knee. Or right. I can tell compass directions easily, left and right floozlify me. A week in the hospital, home. We had her parents here to help, get her to PT, help her with exercises, getting in and out of bed. She's a great lady, braver than I, she did very well. (In-laws only drove me to rage a half a dozen times, only drove me to homicidal rage once. I appreciate their help, but goddammit.) She did so well that she asked if she could push the schedule on her second knee up, from late 2015 to late June. We discussed the matter - I was all for the next surgery with one big caveat: all she could do in the meeting with the orthopedist was ask. She could not sell him on it, he had to be entirely on board on his own.

So, June 17 she had a knee replacement. Right knee, now. Fuckin' A bubba, she is so much braver than I. Surgery went well, but this time, for both practical reasons (not wanting to wreck the first knee healing the second) and for other practical reasons (I generally genuinely like my in-laws and can't afford the quicklime or shallow grave, the inevitable results of another 3 week stay), she went to transitional care/therapy. Again, she performed like a champ, and came home on, well, shucks, the symbolism gives me a crick in my stuff, Independence Day. Doesn't mean independence, per se, I have been helping her, accompanying her. We have basically spent the last few days alone in the house, couch and bed, bullshitting, loving pets, eating too well, it has been, with it's own medical stresses, a wonderful weekend. There's a recovery ahead of us still, but I am a very happy paleo!

I have had to fight the fishing gods to make my boat obey my commands, but have been out a few times. I still either have to fix a trolling motor, or put a rope on it and use it as an anchor.
19" Largemouth. And character from 'The Wall'

The dog, Jaxson, is 65# of cool. Also bloody insane. Possibly possessed.

Life is not all peach and lobster stew. I have finished spring PM season, and it were tough. Also, the company is 'exploring' the big 'O'. Not not the fun one, outsourcing. Imma trying to polish my resume and update my CV as much as possible before the fall decision is made. Bastards. Meantime, I have one arm that is largely non-functional (gotta see the orthopedist myself), so I'm fairly certain I'm not going back into construction.

NEVERTHELESS, MY WIFE IS HOME. I am so happy I could dance! (Well, step dance. Non-functional left arm.) I will not complain! That's for the next post.

Saturday, April 19, 2014

If The Nuns Could See Me Now

Yay, it's Easter Eve!

At midnight, teh babby Jesus travels the world in his magical cart, drawn by 8 tiny rabbits and a beagle if I remember my miffology*, with the hole under the seat so he can lay eggs and M&Ms for good children all around the world as long as they are not heathens, who should be droned, but at the very least will burn in lakes of sulfur for eternity because love...

It will also be the end of Lent, and I must say I'm thrilled, bursting with pride, that I have lived up to my resolution of not going to bed sober for 6 weeks. Alas, all good thingies must end, but this one will be tough...

Traffic to work yesterday was brilliant, open roads, odd because the TwinCities commuting scene, while not as stabbishly universally recognized as say, LA, can suck econo. Curious... Oh wait, everything shuts down for a Christian holiday. Wall Street closed. Can you imagine that collection of coke-fueled monsters closing for Diwali? People at my place of work have the right to take off Good Friday. I clearly need religion. Persecuted christians my dimpled genitalia.

Just as an illustration of how amazingly cool and attractive Christianity is, when they were trying to impose their bullshit, they would Borg the area festivals and retcon some bits to appease the local population. Hence, a baby born surrounded by sheep shit, more or less the common experience of shepherds, gets flowered up with pine trees and a fabulously generous, alcoholic, probable diabetic, old dude with a habit of dressing flash. For Easter, instead of

"Jesus Fucking Christ! ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE! Whoah, dude, how long you been buried?!? Febreze or something, man!"

becomes painting eggs, treasure hunts, and CHOCOLATE!!!

The world is going to hell in an Easter basket.

* And yes, the greatest philosopher of the 20th century, barring maybe Theodore Geisel, is Charles Schultz. If you disagree, you are tragically wrong.

Just a few brief bits of news, as my posting habitrail has been next to non-existent.

July 29, the day before my birfday, Barenaked Ladies in Sioux Falls SD. Little goddam far to drive, 4 and a half hours, but my favorite band ever and suchlike, and probably sack out in Nebraska with teh in-laws.

This is Jaxson now, about 55#, likely to become a touch heavier but not probably expand much more. Density, etc. An issue there is that he can already kick my ass, which is a thing because I occasionally has to remind him who is alpha dog.
I love my doofuspuppy!!!

2 more weekends of overnight Saturday preventive maintenance and I ain'tn't got diddly until September. Therefore, fish, feel threatened. Imma personally endanger yer asses.

Sunday, March 16, 2014

I Could Be Famous And Evil If I Had No Moral Structure, Too!

I love Wisconsin. I'm from western WI, and spent much of my life in Badgerland. I know everywhere to hunt and fish, the best camping, breweries, strip clubs. Friends and family throughout the state, Eau Claire, La Crosse, Hayward, Janesville, Madison (80 square miles surrounded by reality), Milwaukee. Home of ghosts and beasties, Ridgeway, the Beast Of Bray Road, Elmwood, Cashton, Crex Meadows. This is why is hurts so much to see the quality of Wisconsin politicians.

La Crosse, where I grew up, has a history of wishy-washy centrists, the mayors I grew up with (primarily Patrick Zielke) being blandly business/COC/Elks Club friendly, up to the congressional level, with the current congressman, Ron Kind, being a damnable Blue Dog, and the prior, Steve Gunderson, a moderate (when there use to be such a thing) Republican.
At the state level, Herb Kohl, nominally Democratic but treated the Senate seat as his due, as the inevitable end game to his wealth, and then did NO-THING with it. Thomas Thompson, Tommy to his masters, far and away the dumbest sibling of an otherwise rather successful family. Ron Johnson, who took Feingold's seat in the 2010 debacle (please vote!, bitches!!!), gleeful teabagger, got schooled by Hillary Clinton. And finally, Paulie (Pecs) Ryan, famed fabricator, took social security while belonging to one of Wisconsin's successful business families, who incidentally made much of the family money via government contract - while calling us lesser folks, who might be relying on a pension or social security, 'moochers'.* 

I bring Roidboy up last, as he has been in the news for his CPAC experiences, primarily his speech and LIES!!!!!! about a brown bag lunch
I want to focus on one line from that pile of shit.
"People don't just want a life of comfort--they want a life of dignity."
First of all, no shit. Ass. But also, hey, who has been hell bent on taking away that dignity, for years?! Who is calling the poor 'takers', 'looters', suggesting that those who do not have property should have the franchise taken away from them? Who suggested that working three jobs to make ends meet is 'uniquely american'? (And by the way, Georgie, suck on a tailpipe.) Who blamed inner city issues (whoa, my puppy's ear just perked up. What the hell?) on a lack of work ethic, justified by the 'studies' of Charles Murray?**

It's you, Paulie, you and your co-hoard, claiming that those what ain't got much ain't got pride, that if you ain't got none you didn't deserve none. Good Catholic St. Paulie who ordered a soup kitchen to re-open so he could photo-op his way into the hearts of americans. You're a genuinely horrible person, P-Ry. Lying about marathons, about the 14'ers.**** You got yours, fuck everyone else. Forcing your staffers to read the completely inadequate book (but excellent building materiel) Atlas Shrugged. You never watched Diff'rent Strokes because it was too racially provocative. You. Are. A Weed.

UPDATE: ARE YOU STINKING KIDDING ME? Scott Fitzgerald, Senate Majority leader of WI, blocks a bill to benefit to cancer patients, treating oral cancer meds the same as intravenous treatments, potentially saving patients', well, everything. Shocker - Fitzie's brother is a pharmaceutical lobbyist. My beloved Wisconsin, why are you not running these assholes out of state with pitchforks!?!?!

*FYI, I don't care that he took survivors benefits, he was entitled (SWIDT!) to the benefits his father had earned. But he's a hypocrite and proven public liar.
**Oh, wait, that one was Paulie. Who then claimed he was speaking inarticulately.***
***This is inarticulate. 

Paulie just slipped and spoke his mind.

****From the Gawker article,
Paul Ryan was at the very first Train show.
 What a beautiful way to say "douchebag".

Monday, March 10, 2014

In Which paleo Is Bugged And Wishes To Stand On A Soap Box For A Few Minnows

The other day I was shooting the shit with an acquaintance. He’s in most ways a genuinely decent guy, devoted family guy, outdoorsman, stand-up type, I’d have no issue trusting him.

You are hearing a ‘but’.

But, he is very conservative. Constitution/Libertarian party. He knows I am a raging liberal, and we try to avoid politics. The exchange the other day was, inadvertently, my fault. I was laughing at news from CPAC when I ran into him, Paul Ryan lying his ass off about liberal parents and brown bag lunches.

(all quotes are paraphrases, best I can, and making me look fantastic and smarter than I am)

Naturally, he was curious. Then defensive. Big Lyin’ Ryan fan. “Oh, those are liberal sites.”

Wevs. PaulieDude has already apolo-lied, and liberally spread the blame with a bit of a perimeter around himself.

Then “you got your liberal president, and Hillary Clinton running the next time”. Followed by me metaphorically beating my head against a wall – “Bullshit. I voted for Obama, and occasionally like the guy. He is not a liberal, by any stretch. Clinton is not a liberal by any stretch. I’d kill to vote for a liberal.” “Obama is the most socialist president we’ve ever had-” “Again, bullshit. I’m a socialist. Obama is a lite republican on a good day. I voted for him because the alternatives by the time of the general campaign, Romney and McCain&Palin, or any republican clown, were too horrifying to contemplate. I am a liberal. I like freedom, dammit.”

This surprised him a bit. “Freedom?”

“Yeah. You cannot be a republican and believe in freedom.”

“Well, what do you mean by that?”

I terminated the conversation at that point, no upside for me to be engaging in open political warfare with this dude, and besides his dreadfully confused political views, I like the guy.

What I would say given the choice, however?

The United States as a whole is far and away the wealthiest country on earth. (And as I was writing that I started to spell “company”, which is the clear goal of the CPACBaggers. Paging Doc Freud?)

We can afford health care, unencumbered by profit corporations and the real death panels, and the whims of religious sociopaths who don’t believe in the science that gave them their jobs as pharmacists and doctors. Under most circumstances, a bankruptcy due to medical costs is a sign of a morally bankrupt society. You want innovation? Take some guy, formally educated or just interested in a topic, thoughtful, who needs to keep a full time pathetic-wage job to keep insurance, or several full-time minimum-wage jobs to afford insurance, and give him a chance to invent, create, play, learn, and you’ll see some damned innovation.

We can afford infrastructure. This may be the only crisis in the United States greater than the health care crisis. (In neither instance do I use ‘crisis’ lightly.) More and more people cannot trust their fucking TAP WATER. The way-y-y-y too many being poisoned by corporations (who, if they are ‘people’, need some damn jail time) are a drop compared to the number of people whose city water supply and sewage disposal are more and more sharing the same waterways. The people driving to work about to do the Minnesota Shuffle on some bridge that has been condemned for 30 years. The schools that don’t really need a new Vikings stadium so much as having the asbestos removed, and perhaps some environmental controls, hell, a window air conditioner if nothing else. Freedom from fuckin’ TB, for chrissakes.

We can afford education. I would dispute that schools are necessarily top heavy in personnel, as many of the ‘vice principals in charge of fryer oil’ go by other titles as well, such as 5th grade social studies teachers and maybe see another $500 a year for that principleship. Teachers are trained and educated and need to be paid like it, and worked a helluva lot harder in college than some damn cookie-cutter frat-fuck MBA. We can afford gym class and arts education – if something has to go due to budget constraints, might I suggest the league sports, waste of time and space. Teach the kids. If the NFL wants a farm system, let them pay for it. Freedom to have a chance. It’s not a hard calculation to do.

We can afford basic nutrition, especially for our neediest, kids, the elderly. The lunchroom admin in Utah who threw away kids lunches needs to be beaten a lot. The MN legislators who applauded and cheered after cutting Meals On Wheels in MN need to be beaten with the lunchroom admin from Utah. And yes, there are healthy adults who, from no fault of their own, who need and deserve food. And yes yes, there are healthy adults who, from fault of their own, need and deserve food. Yeah, there can be conditions, but those conditions must start with feeding the people. Then job training, then job help, then education help. I don’t care that Marcus Bachmann complains that it will cut into his brie and KY budget for his Thursday poker nights, because first of all, he’s lying, and second of all, he’s really lying. Again, you want to see innovation? Take some kid who’s a damn genius but can’t think at school because the cheapest way to get him breakfast is ramen, and turn him loose with some energy, let him thunk about learnin’ as opposed to how many days in a row he’s had Corn King hot dogs for supper. Freedom from suffering. Life can be hard, life can occasionally be cruel. But we don’t need to increase the cruelty, and we can afford to assuage it somewhat. Read the RED WORDS, conservatives.

Women are different from men. Yep. Also, men are different from men. Women are different from women. And, some men and women are similar. Take your gender bullshit and shove it up your gender-specific orifice, righties. Women get birth control covered. Women get to control their bodies, including the choice to terminate a pregnancy, and the choice to keep a pregnancy, and don’t you ever minimize their agency. If she wants to be a housewife, good for her. If she wants to be a CEO, good for her, and beat, with the MN legislators who applauded and cheered after cutting Meals On Wheels in MN, anyone trying to obstruct her way to either destination.

There are people who are not white men, and not only are they not like white men, they are sometimes not like each other. And, sometimes, they are like white men. Or act as a bloc because they are like each other. So fucking what. Let them pick their own destination and shut the hell up.

Never be under the illusion that a corporation gives a damn about the United States, you, their own grandmothers (They're people right? Must have grannies.) The owe your community a return on the commons provided that allows them to make money. Don't poison people. Don't run your workers through a bandsaw. A little community investment wouldn't suck. The commons owes them infrastructure in return, roads, cops, educated workforce. All they owe you is a fair day’s pay for a fair day’s work. All you owe them is a fair day’s work for a fair day’s pay. Either of you may negotiate terms, both of you must live up to agreed terms. The best way to do this is the union structure, with healthy government enforcement, but I’ll listen to other ideas. Just in my own experience, unions are the proven way. Some unions need internal cleanup, some quite a bit of cleanup, they are made of people, same as soylent green, but that is yet another reason for workers to get organized and get active. Most corporations are completely corrupted by greed, need extensive internal cleanup, and are incapable of it. They must be brought to heel by the consumer, as an individual entity, and as a commons represented by government, and the workforce.

Eh, maybe 7 cents worth of dimestore philosophy, but I wanted to write it. There’s more, but it frequently involves Sasquatches and a mild messianic complex, so I’ll leave it there.