Decades

Random thought for today: Occasionally I hear people, my age or older, talk about how great the drugs were back in the 60’s or 70’s. Consider this, if you will: The most popular poster in the 60’s was Marilyn Monroe. From the 70’s, the iconic Farrah Fawcett. Now, you know what the best selling posters were from the 1980’s? ALF and Spuds MacKenzie. Think that through for a moment. ALF. And Spuds MacKenzie. Now which decade do you think had the best drugs?

Happy Easter

A little over 2,000 years ago the Romans executed a religious leader for political crimes. His followers believed he rose from the dead three days later. This event became the defining moment of the new religion, and over the years many others would come to believe. Within a few hundred years it would become the official religion of the Roman Empire. Within a thousand years it would become the most widely practiced religion on the planet, and it continues to be to this day.

Today we commemorate this single momentous event by having our small children search for brightly colored eggs hidden in the grass by a magical bunny. Everyone accepts this as normal, despite the fact that no one can establish a plausible connection between the executed religious leader and either brightly colored eggs or magical bunnies.

Still, the resulting holiday gives us an opportunity to dress up, gather with family, reconnect with our beliefs, and eat lots of candy and chocolate in the shape of eggs and magical bunnies (but strangely none in the shape of an executed religious leader), so on the whole it makes for a nice day.

Happy Easter Everybody!

The Thing About Alzheimer’s… (Thank You, Seth Rogen)

The thing about Alzheimer’s is not that it kills you. It doesn’t kill you, not right away. Most people with Alzheimer’s will die of some other condition, no doubt made deadly by the progression of Alzheimer’s, but not Alzheimer’s itself. Of course if nothing else gets you, Alzheimer’s will eventually do you in, but… that’s not the thing. If all it did was kill you, that would be a kindness.

Instead, Alzheimer’s will slowly and steadily steal your memories, steal your knowledge and your skills, your relationships, your personality, your mind, your very soul. It doesn’t kill you. No, it destroys you. It erases you. Piece. By. Piece.

At first it takes the recent memories, then the not so recent memories, then older memories, then older still. People, places, events, all gone. The happy moments, the sad moments, all of it, one at a time. Gone. At the end, if you survive, all that is left is maybe a few distant memories from early childhood.

At first it will cause a little confusion, maybe you don’t know where your keys are, or your glasses. Then you can’t remember if you ate, or if you’re hungry. Then you can’t remember the words to put together your thoughts. Then you can’t remember your thoughts.

At first it you forget the names and faces of your doctors, and your nurses. Then your children. Then your spouse. Then your brothers and sisters. Your family, the only ones would could offer you help or comfort, are gone now, replaced by these strangers who seem nice enough, and they seem to know you, but that means nothing, you don’t know them. Everyone you’ve ever known or loved is stripped away from you, one by one, like they never existed. Everyone. You are left to face your fear and confusion alone. Alone. Totally, utterly alone.

Think about that for a second. In a room, surrounded by friends and family, who love you like no other, you are totally and utterly alone. You must now face your end alone, lost in a sea of strangers.

I’ve lost friends and family to cancer, but you know what? Fuck cancer. At least it has the decency to just kill you. Maybe slowly, maybe fast, but it kills you. It doesn’t dismantle your mind, take apart your very being bit by bit, while it patiently waits for you to die. Cancer is a cute fluffy kitten compared to Alzheimer’s.

Alzheimer’s is pure fucking evil. It is cruel and heartless. It is relentless, and without mercy. It is insidious. It will likely take someone you know. And it will tear them apart, in tiny little pieces, until there is nothing left. It. Must. Be. Stopped.

Thank you Seth Rogen, for your voice, and your support.

“Happy Holidays”

First, let me preface by saying, I don’t get offended when people say “Happy Holidays”, and I don’t get offended when people say “Merry Christmas”. I do get annoyed by people who insist that only one greeting is correct, and who take offense if they do not receive their correct greeting. Otherwise I think this whole greeting thing is blown way out of proportion and people should just lighten up and be glad people are actually talking nicely to each other for a change.

I said all that just so I could say this. I saw a “Happy Holidays” sign today…. wait for it…. at a Christmas Tree lot.

I would think that out of all the places in the world where you might be inclined to say “Merry Christmas” in a retail environment, the one place where you would actually WANT to would be where the ONLY thing you sell is Christmas Trees. But that’s just me….

Bold Longing, part 2

More mystery email. I really would like pounds of cash wads for all my picnics…

Everybody without exceptions wants to be prosperous even if he or she laughs at the fact.

With all that persons cannot stand to be responsible for their own well being and work every single day.

By all means, we do not grant you pounds of cash wads but with our simple and understandable approach you can say “goodbye” to strict limits that you have now.

Find some time and teach yourself to receive quick money plainly within hours.

You will always receive enough for emergency presents, parties, picnics and pleasure trips and your life will become brighter.

Follow here for more details
<link removed>

Bold Longings

So I got this in an email. It’s like they’re speaking directly to me – I have bold longings, I want a delightful mass of green bucks…

It is problematic to fit into your usual budget without saying “no” to your vivid dreams and bold longings that demand unplanned expenditures.

At least you are doubtless it is problematic and lucky guys who know little secrets wish you to go on thinking this way.

Of course, you are right to believe that there are effortless and rapid ways of earning delightful mass of green bucks that can be used for fun, recreation and delight.

You can learn how to become wealthier and happier.

Forget about your usual doubts use the given link and learn all you have to know:
<link removed>

The Southern Class System

Recent comments on the seeming inequity of how the “Stand Your Ground” law is applied in Florida have been popping up all over the Internet. Some seem confused or surprised by the results, but to me it seemed a perfectly logical, albeit inherently unfair, and frequently sad, outcome.

What people are failing to recognize is this: Even though we like to think of ourselves as a “classless” society, and that we are all equal under the law, the southern class system, as old as the South itself, still plays a large role in everyday life in much of Florida. This is no more true anywhere than in the way criminal law is applied in our courts.

I suppose I’ve spent so much time living here that I just sort of assumed everyone knew how things really worked, but if you don’t understand the southern class system, I imagine much of what happens in the Florida courts will be a complete mystery to you.

Please understand – I do NOT advocate this class system, I would like very much for it to become a thing of the past. I am documenting it here so that we can all recognize it for what it is – and if we see it, and know it, and become aware of it, we can work to remove it, and maybe one day realize our ideals of true equality under the law.

So, this is meant to educate, not to offend. Apologies in advance to any of you who don’t know me or understand this concept. Anyhow, it goes something like this.

 

The Southern Class System
=====================

White Males
Horses
Hunting Dogs
White Women
Cattle
English Speaking Foreigners (Brits, Aussies, etc)
Other Proper Foreigners (Germans, Swiss, etc)
Frenchmen
Irishmen, Italians, and Poles
Other Farm Animals
Chinamen and Mexicans
Northerners
Dark-skinned people who aren’t really Black Folk
Black Folk
Ticks, Fleas, and other Parasites
The Devil Himself
Carpet-Baggers (a specific type of Northerner)

NOTES:
1. You may notice Gays are not included, they would be classified under “Frenchmen”.
2. Jews do not require a separate classification, most of them are already “Northerners” anyway.
3. After 1945 change “Carpet-Baggers” to “Commie Pinkos”.

Is Paula Deen a Racist?

Paula Deen says she’s not a racist. I think Paula Deen truly believes she is not a racist. I think there are many people out there, who may not realize they are a racist. I think perhaps we should give Paula Deen and others a few tips, on how to tell whether or not they might be a racist. (With apologies to Jeff Foxworthy)

– If you think having an all black wait-staff, at a plantation style wedding, is a good idea… you might be a racist.

– If you don’t know if the N-word is offensive to black people… well, you just might be a racist.

– If you don’t know WHY the N-word is offensive…. you might be a racist.

– If you think “Most jokes are about Jewish people, rednecks, black folks”… I got news for ya…. not only might you be a racist. But also… Lady you know fuck all about what’s funny.

Mister Rogers, Captain Kangaroo, and Romper Room

I just read that Mister Rogers passed away 10 years ago today, and this made me stop a moment and reflect. Mister Rogers and Captain Kangaroo were the first two adults, outside of my immediate family, to take the time to talk directly to me. They were always warm and kind, and never mean or cruel. Unlike that Romper Room bitch. She’d look through that magic looking glass thingy, “I see Susie and Jamie and Kevin and Mark…” What about me? I’m right here! Can’t you see me? I would be right in front of the TV, jumping up and down, waving frantically. Why can’t she see me? I watched every day for years. Every damn day, just waiting, waiting for that day she called my name. Bitch never saw me. Never. Finally one day I turned her off, threw away my little plastic-cup-on-a-rope stompy thingies, and never looked back. She was the first woman to ever break my heart, and it was time for me to move on. Still, every now and then, I think of her. And I think, if I ever run into that Romper Room lady, I swear I’m gonna walk right up to her, slap her in the face, and say “Can you see me now bitch?”

Hiccups

In an earlier post, a friend referenced a medical journal article which suggested hiccups could be cured by “digital rectal stimulation”…

I’ll just pause for a moment here and let that one sink in…

Now, for the record, if you ever see me with the hiccups, and *that* is the cure that comes to your mind (and it will be now), do me a favor and just let me keep the hiccups.

Also, rest assured, if I ever come across you with a case of the hiccups, know that while I like you, I do NOT like you THAT well.