Frydee Funnie

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Oh Cos!

I was laughing so hard I couldn’t drive, which was OK ‘cause Dad was driving. The particulars of this drive are lost to history, but the tape in my tape deck (you young’uns know it as a CD or MP3) was The Dad, Bill Cosby, holding forth on his children.

My Dad wasn’t laughing.

Dad was nodding his head, beating Bill to some of the punch lines and generally agreeing with everything The Cos had to say. Back then, I figured Dad just didn’t appreciate good comedy. Now, I know The Cos is not a comedian. He’s a reporter, like me.

Like me, The Cos tells it exactly like it happened. He never had to make anything up. He just told the truth. Kinda like a City Council meeting - I couldn’t make that stuff up if I tried.

“DADDY!” Susan screamed from the pool.

“What?” I gently inquired putting down the measuring tape and square, promptly forgetting for the 523rd time that morning what I was measuring and why I was measuring it. You may think I forgot the measurement too, but you’re wrong. I never got that far.

“Jesse won’t quit looking at me,” she said.

Jesse was staring off into space, leaning on the wall, as if the most important thing in the world was a pecan tree leaf and whether or not it would fall in the pool.

I briefly considered telling Jesse to stare at his sister again and I’d join him. I knew this would irritate Susan beyond belief, so rather than risk electrocution by having two yelling, crying, soaked children join me in the middle of a snake’s nest of power tool cords, I grunted and returned to my weapons of math instruction.

“DADDY!” Susan screamed.

“What?” I asked, coming around the barn door for the 524th time in less than 10 minutes.

“Jesse won’t get out of my spot,” she said.

Jesse was in the exact same spot he’d been in for the past few minutes. The pecan tree leaf, apparently, was proving a tough customer even under the withering super-hero power-beam gaze my son apparently wields when no adult is watching.

“You gotta whole pool to be on the side of,” I said.

“That’s my spot,” Susan said.

I went back into the barn.

“DADDY!” Jesse yelled.

“At least it’s a different kid this time,” I muttered to myself as I rounded the barn door for the 525th time. When I say rounded, I mean it. I’ve rushed around the door so many times in response to a hair-standing scream that I’ve rounded the edge off and polished it to a high sheen.

“Yes?” I said.

“Susan hit me,” Jesse said.

“Did you hit her?” I asked, figuring I knew what the response would be. I have a 90 percent record of success on this question.

“Yes,” he said.

“Then it’s settled,” I said.

This time I just slipped inside the door and stood there.

“DADDY!” Jesse yelled.

I simply stuck my head around the door this time.

“Susan hit me,” he said.

“Well, did you hit her?”

“No,” he said.

Well, I’m right 90 percent of the time.

“Well, hit her and you’ll be even,” I said.

Rather than hit her, he opted to turn his Power Vision Crippling Eye Blast Gaze on Susan.

“DADDY! Jesse won’t stop looking at me,” Susan yelled.
--
amazon.com/author/benbaker
twitter.com/redneckgenius

Cause I can't resist the challenge

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Few things crank my tractor (and if you ever spent time around a John Deere 4020 you know the significance of that statement) like hate mail.

Charged. Pumped. Amped. Stoked. Fired up. Kickin. Insert extremely active descriptive phrase of your choice here.

Why? Not entirely certain. Probably has a lot to do with my being a rebel and one of the outcast. Setting aside the psychoanalysis, I still like hate mail.

The more inflammatory, threatening and heated the more I like it. Having been the recipient of death threats in the past, I must say I get an extra jolt from these. Topping my list of hate mail death threats are the ones I get from Animal Rights Activists.

I am presently on the receiving end of disjointed, obfuscatory, self-incriminating and contradictory diatribe on Facebook. You can find it on my page if you wish. You may have some problem in deciphering what is being said.

FEED ME!

Part of me feels quite guilty about engaging this person. Why?

He claims to be a Christian. I claim the same thing. Christians do not treat each other like this. Those who do treat each other like this and claim to be Christian are not, at least to my thinking.

Am I doing the right thing here? Am I living the kind of life I should be living? What kind of role model am I being?

Ain't good. Nope. Nope. Nope.

But I also do not claim to be perfect. I'm trying to get there, but the road is long and my legs are short.

Another part of me is massively enjoying this. As Shag said, if you attack me, I'll get face cramps from grinning. So far I've warded off the muscle spasms in my cheeks and jaws.

If you bother to check a bit you'll see the individual lists himself as disabled. I do not know his disability and while I might speculate, I shan't share these private thoughts with you. If you bothered to read the thread, you may have come to the same conclusions I have.

You may now wonder why I can take such delight in sparring with such a person. To be momentarily childish - he started it. Just for the record here, you do the same thing. Rather than take the mature adult road, you too will occasionally drop into 5 year old mode and do battle with mud, bodily excretions and other noisome materials.

That's not me. Bring a knife to a gun fight if you like.

Further if you have read the thread, you'll see this is not a battle of wits. One person in this fight is unarmed. You can figure out who.

So why am I taking on this incredibly obviously unbalanced argument? Because the other side of this argument claims to be a rational, cogent, coherent, terrestrial-autochthon Homo sapiens, thinks he's my cerebral superior and intends to prove it.

I can't resist a challenge like that.

Furthermore, as one of my favorite college professors, Jim Joseph, said. "Ben enjoys deflating stuffed shirts."
To put it another way, I'm a type of sadist. I take enormous delight in pointing out a person's self-contradictory beliefs, statements and actions, delusional beliefs and opinions. The harder they fall the more I like it. Bringing down an edifice of personal code brings me immense satisfaction, but only if the other person tries to rebuild as I tear down.

In other words, the harder they fight me, the more I enjoy it.

The only difference between me and you (if there is one) in this regard is I admit it. You do enjoy having the winning side in a debate.


If you look through this column hard enough, you're probably going to find the same inconsistencies which I so eagerly point out. S'ok. I know they are there and they do not bother me. I might even point them out to you if you ask. I'm not about to argue them with you.

Pat Robertson said what?

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Religious right ultranocommonsensetive Pat Robertson actually did come out and say he supports the legalization of marijuana. Betcha.

You're not paranoid if you have proof.

This has put him at odds with other Christian fundamentalist groups, like the American Family Association and others.

I note here many of these Christians, if they thought they could get away with it, would edit the Bible. There are parts of the Bible they will not discuss, do not like and wish they could excise.

I gleefully and loudly say to these people "He didn't turn the water into Tang!"

I have also pulled my Bible out and pointed to passages in it wherein people are directed to get drunk. Yes. The Bible specifically states there are times when a person should get falling down drunk. These circumstances are narrowly defined tho.

And it wasn't Ripple either.

But I get off topic again.

Mr. Robertson said he enjoyed a glass of wine now and then — “When I was in college, I hit it pretty hard, but that was before Christ.” He added that he did not think marijuana appeared in the Bible, though he noted that “Jesus made water into wine. I don’t think he was a teetotaler."

Our best records indicate marijuana was being used around the time the New Testament was written. But the Bible is silent on it.

Reckon why?

Mr. Robertson goes on to ask what is the real difference between marijuana and alcohol. I ask the same thing. 

For one thing, alcohol is more dangerous. Ever met someone fried on weed who wanted to fight? Ever met someone who wanted to fight after chugging a six pack?

 

Alcohol is listed as a major contributing factor in hundreds of fatal wrecks around the nation every year. As best I was able to find, one wreck in England listed marijuana as a major factor. I do not count the people who are distracted while trying to roll one as this kind of distraction can happen when trying to open a beer, adjust the radio, eat a sandwich, send a text message, watch a cow in a field and so on. 

Beyond this, I ask what gives government (i.e. YOU) the right to determine whether or not I can roll one?

Before you answer that, riddle me this.

How many people have died as a direct result of marijuana use? I mean the use of it killed them. Not incidentals, like rolling one while driving and crashing into a tree. I mean show me the number of people killed because marijuana poisoned them, clogged their arteries, gave them cancer, etc etc etc.

How many people have died as a result of alcohol abuse? Cirrhosis of liver comes to immediate mind. People who get drunk and beat up spouses and children come to mind. Drunk drivers come to mind.

The truth is - we don't know for sure.

Tobacco? How many people die annually from over the counter drugs? How about simply over eating?

Yeah, I know. I'm seeking rationality in the very embodiment of irrational. Government does not make sense. It's not designed to.

As for me, I'm not interested in smoking. But if you want to fire one up in the evening when you get home, I just don't see a difference between that and you having a beer after work.

No doubt my attitude and opinion here will cause even more "Christians" to ostracize and damn me as they do now upon seeing Blue Moon in the fridge and Knob Creek by my recliner. So be it. I ain't here to live for them, impress them or care about their opinion of me.

Jesus didn't turn the water in Tang. I don't know if He lit one up or baked some into the supper loaves, but I don't care either.

On that, Pat Robertson and I agree.

Heartburn of Conscience - II

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Yeah. Blame yesterday on the drugs I needed to keep my lungs in my chest and not splattered across my desk and the computer.  Anyway, refresh your confusion and I'll see if I can make more sense of Part II.

The problem I have is:

If you say you are going to play by the rules, does it matter if those rules are corrupted? If you do not like corruption, but agree to play by corrupted rules, is this hypocrisy?

A better way to look at this: Does the end justify the means?

I promised a for instance yesterday. I give you one. It is from politics.

Ron Paul. Full disclosure: I am a Ron Paul supporter and believe if he is elected, we will see Real Change.

Dr. Paul is the only national politician I am aware of who is consistent, adheres to his own code of conduct, doesn't bend to polls or attempt to curry favor. Dr. Paul speaks his mind, stands by that and refuses to apologize if someone is offended by what he says is the truth.

In short, exactly the kind of person people say they want in office. People also lie.

Anyway, Dr. Paul has long complained about the state of government. He has promised to clean up corruption and bring an end to idiocy at the federal government. He is continuing to say in his media releases the nation wants him.

And 2012 too.

Really? Check the election results. Dr. Paul has come in second in some states, but mostly comes in third and fourth since the other candidates in the Reboobican field dropped out.

The people who vote are saying they prefer another candidate.

Check.

The.

Votes.

In every primary election so far, the majority of people who voted, voted for someone other than Ron Paul. This is a fact which is not distorted.

The problem comes in states where primary delegates are selected after the vote. Ron Paul supporters have been trained to hang around afterward to be selected as a convention delegate. At the national convention, they will vote for Ron Paul.

Never mind most of the people they are supposed to represent do not want Ron Paul.

In other words, Dr. Paul's supporters are playing the system by the rules set up. But if Dr. Paul genuinely says the Will of the People should be followed, then he's being a hypocrite.

Does might make right?

The Will of the People is Ron Paul should not be the Reboobican candidate for president. But his supporters are gaming the system, playing exactly by the corrupted rules, in hopes of putting him in the driver's seat.

On one hand, Ron Paul & Co. believe in the electoral system. On the other hand, they are also subverting the electoral system. Never mind they are playing by the rules.

A truly ethical and honorable (I note here honor is a concept akin to nailing Jell-O to a tree and ethics vary from person to person) person will play by the correct rules and eschew bending those rules to personal benefit.

Dr. Paul et al are not bending the rules to personal benefit. They truly believe they are working for the better good of the nation.

But they are still playing by bent rules.

Typical American voter explaining his vote

This is a precedent. Having done it once, it becomes easier to do it again. And again. And again.

The most tyrannical dictators the world has ever seen use the excuse "the ends justify the means." National politicians use the same excuse.

How many times have you used "ends to means" as an excuse to justify hypocritical behavior on your part? How many times have you condemned others for doing the exact same thing.

The man in the mirror wants to have a talk with you.

Fridee Funnee

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Mo’s Place

I settled into my customary seat at Mo's Country Diner, Used Cars, Stump Removal, Friday Night Sushi Bar, Fresh Cut Bait Every Saturday Morning Emporium. Fats was already walking toward me with my usual order before the seat got warm.

The liars club was in full force already as evidenced by Fats having thrown her towel over shoulder. She only does that when it gets so deep that she has to wipe down the counter every few minutes to prevent what she calls a fertilizer buildup that would run off the other customers.

I don't know how many meals I've eaten there. My kids ate one of their first real meals there (not THE first). There's no telling how many gallons of iced tea, coffee and ice water I've downed, how many hamburger steaks and onions and fried chickens and ham & egg biscuits I've ingested. The parade of people who've walked, staggered, stumbled and sometimes crawled through those doors can't  be described.

Some of the holes in the naugahyde seats in the booths I created. I think my Grandpa created some of the holes when he was a young man. Mo refuses to have the seats recovered.

"Do you know how hard it is to kill a nauga these days? I went and killed and skinned enough naugas to cover the seats once and I ain't gonna do it again. I'd rather vote Reboobican," he says every time someone complains about the holes.

I can't swear to it, but I strongly suspect at least a few kids were conceived on those old seats during the lull between lunch and supper when Fats had to run out to get something and left a few customers in charge.

Each table has a pepper and salt shaker, ketchup bottle and hot sauce bottle. No matter how empty the Tobasco bottle appears, you can always shake one more drop out of it. Presumably the bottle does empty eventually because other Tobasco bottles scattered around the place hold toothpicks. Or maybe Mo ordered the bottles empty. I don't know.

Invariably someone will ask about the chicken feet glued to the top of the cash register. It's always someone new who asks "Why are there chicken feet on the cash register?"

"Because they fit!" the regular crowd roars.

"Because we ate the rest of the chicken for lunch," Mo says, pointing over his shoulder to the hand-written menu on the chalk board which always has "Fried Chicken" as a meat for lunch. The day Mo doesn't serve fried chicken at lunch the world will come to an end or Hillary Clinton will be elected president. Mo promises if this happens he's selling the place and moving to Iraq because it'll be safer.

"You let the Damnocrats take charge of this country and we'll be wishing we could ride in a handbasket," he says.

I still wonder about the bass Mo has mounted on one wall. A mounted bass on a wall in a business in South Georgia is not unusual. Bass mounted with a  fishing lure is not unusual. But a bass mounted on the wall with his fins posed to hold a really really small fishing lure with a cigarette at the end of the line, now that's different. Mo quit smoking years ago and about the same time the cigarette appeared on the end of the line. There's probably some metaphysical or existential connection there, but I don't want to know badly enough to ask Mo. I'd rather speculate.

Heartburn of the conscience - I

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You set the rules. When I play by them and win, do not complain.

Ahhhh shaddap.

Seems pretty simple and straightforward eh?

Here's another way of looking at that statement: Let me adjust my standards to be the same as yours.

This adjustment could be higher. It could be lower. It could be a lateral adjustment. To be completely fair, I must also admit no adjustment is necessary. We could have the same standards and rules going in.

But the idea expressed behind my little aphorism is that you (a general you and not directed at any specific person) are attempting to twist the rules to your benefit. Cheating, in other words.

So when I take my set of ethics, morals and standards and make the needed adjustments to line them up with yours, what does that say about me?

 Again, let's focus on the implication here. I have to lower myself. I ain't too happy about that.

But, the rules are the rules, right?

What do I do? I see three options.

• Walk away and have nothing to do with you and your arbitrary standards.

• Keep my own standards and compete anyway, knowing that my chance of success is in a serious tailspin.

• Lower myself. 

All three are viable depending on the situation.

If it is something that's not important, leave. F'r'instance: A vacant lot baseball game (Calvinball goes through my mind right about now), I can walk away. No worries.

If it is of some minor importance, or I don't care about the eventual outcome, I'll stick to my ideals and we'll rock.

But what if it is something of major importance? Ah. Now what? By what measure do you gauge the importance of the situation. How do you compare that to your ethical standards? Is it an absolute bar, or does it shift depending on the circumstances?

In case you wondered.

Arg. Complicated.

Lemme simplify - If you bend your own personal code of conduct, it's bent.

That's enough to chew on today. Tomorrow I plan to give you a real example of this, something that is bothering me quite a bit.

Lie to me...

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Revisiting an old subject because of a matter that came up last week.

The worst book ever written

The matter at hand is a book contest. I am a judge in the contest. The contest is mostly about marketing, how well the book is presented, designed, laid out, etc. Writing does figure into the judging, but only as a minor concern.

One of the entries submitted was one of the worst books I have ever read. Absolutely horrible writing. The problem is the writer is a WWII veteran, injured in the Philippine theater of the war. This is his first novel. It is self-published. After reading it, I can understand why. No publishing house would take this one on without some major rewriting, if it would take it then.

So, I judged the book on the marketing side - it got a grade of fair - and when it came down to the writing side, he got the expected marks. But the contest organizers also ask the judges to provide feedback to the authors and publishers. I gave feedback on the marketing side. I decided to skip the writing advice side. Call me a wuss if you will.

I am not going to be the one to tear this honored man down. That statement is some pretty hefty hubris on my part, n’est pas?

I declined to comment on the writing because of who this man is. His service to the country means a lot to me. As he’s old enough to be my grandfather to boot, who am I to criticize his writing? Hubris thusly retracted.

What we hear too much of

I am sure this man’s friends and family praised him for his work. Indeed anyone who actually writes a book is worthy of respect in my world. But I also seriously doubt he got any realistic feedback on the book.

In short, a lot of people lied to him.

As my longtime friend Paul (http://writeryourbabyisugly.blogspot.com/) opined, friends who tell you your book is great and so forth are not real friends. Real friends will take your manuscript and bleed all over it, hand it back to you and tell you in ultra precise terms what’s wrong, how to fix it and whether or not the MS is really worth any more effort. The real friends won’t lie about your MS.

Which brings me to the question du jour: Is it ever OK to lie?

My Christian friends will no doubt say it is never right to lie. I suggest they spend a bit more time reading the Old Testament. David, the paragon of the Old Testament lied a lot and was never accused of it being a misdeed. Lots of others did so as well with no punitive repercussions.

Some of my friends of other religious persuasions will say it is not OK to lie. I can’t tell you what their religious texts have to say about such matters.

A few of my atheist friends say it is quite all right to lie under certain circumstances.

I give you a real example. Grandma was dying. She knew it. We knew it. Congestive heart failure. She also had diabetes.

A month or so before she went on, she developed some black spots on the bottom of a foot. She asked what it was. We all told her we did not know.

We did know. It was necrosis, the step just before gangrene set in.

We lied to her.

I ask you, what good would be served by telling her it was pre-gangrene? Then she’d spend the last few days of her life worried about a doctor cutting her leg off. The problem with her foot was not important.

She went on to God intact. No doctor took a bone saw to her leg. She went to her Maker without worry.

Was it right to lie to Grandma under these circumstances?

If you say “no, you should have told her the truth,” you’ve got a much harder heart than I do.

FryDee Funnie

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Duct Tape, Nose Strips & Disposable Bras


My kids’ mother was flipping through the pages of one of those “intimate apparel” catalogues. “Look at this,” she said holding the book where I couldn’t see what she was talking about. “Disposable bras.”

I am not kidding

Immediately my finely honed reporter training kicked in. News was afoot. Then, my redneck attitude jumped in and beat my finely honed reporter training into a pulp and kicked it into a corner. News could wait, here was disposable underwear. Well. More disposable than usual.

One use disposable.

Well. You wear it one time and ...

OK, you WEAR IT FOR LESS THAN 24 HOURS and then throw it away.

Yes. Even if you only wore it as a bikini top once while bogging.

Indeed, there in full color stood two models posing with “disposable” bras. No strap, no hooks, no wires.

I am not kidding either.

Clamps help glue hold.

An observation on my part: While the male readers are now jumping up and down, wildly pumping their fists in the air and shouting “All right! About time!”, the female readers are going “Hmmm.”
Here’s the kicker. These “disposable bras” attach with adhesives. In other words, you stick ‘em on using the glue that comes attached to the bra.

Another observation: The male readers are now saying “Glue it on? Hey, wait a minute this may not be such a good idea after all.” The female readers are now saying “Glue? On me? Right there? I don’t think so!”

Once again I am forced to draw the conclusion that this is yet another plot to overthrow the pursuit of truth, justice and the Southern Way. It’s a conspiracy led by the granola-munchers out in California.

Continuing down the conspiracy road, perhaps you too have seen the “nose strips.” It’s a piece of tape you can strap across your nose and remove after 10 minutes or so. Supposedly the glue on the tape cleans the pores on your nose.

First time I saw this, Sally Jane Fishbreath (Hawgin’s wife) had one strapped across her nose.

“WHAT? When did you do that?” I asked.

Now in designer colors.

“Do what?” she asked.

“Break your nose,” I said.

“I didn’t break my nose.”

“Then why are you wearing a cast on your nose?”

“It’s not a cast. It’s a nose strip. It helps clean out the pores on my nose,” she said.

“You sure? Maybe Hawgin’ did break your nose.” I asked.

She gave me a look that said if Hawgin’ ever thought about breaking her nose, she’d break him into so many pieces that God couldn’t put him back together.

Hawgin’ was out back. I ambled around the house to find him.

He was in the yard, doubled over, eyes watering severely and using language which was killing his grass, begonias and putting a serious wilt in the kudzu in fence.

“What’s your problem?” I asked. “Sally Jane discover you were thinking about breaking her nose?

Hawgin's attempt at self brain surgery?

“No you blamed idiot. It’s them durn nose tape things,” he said. “Sally Jane done said it will help her nose, so I figgered it would do the same thing for me. It like to have ripped my nostrils out.”
I looked at the nose strip lying on the ground next to him.

“Uh, Hawgin’, I don’t think you are supposed to use it to get rid of nose hair,” I said. There on the ground, covered with hair and bits of nostril flesh and what very well could be brains, was the used nose strip.

“Fine time to tell me Baker,” he said.

Anyway, these nose strips and disposable bras are very expensive.

By now all should see the conspiracy lurking here.

HUZZAH!

First, the granola-munchers want Southerners to spend all our money on these things. Then, when we’re broke, our Southern Belles will get stuck in the glue on their chest. While this happens, the men will be outside doubled over in pain because the nose strips pulled out hair, nostrils, sinuses and brains.

The granola-munchers will move in and take over while we stand by helpless.

It’s time to strike back. We should start marketing duct tape as a new kind of weather-proof, water-proof shirt, adjustable-size shirt.

When the granola-munchers tape each other into a metallic gray ball, Southerners can run to the west and tip California into the ocean and be done with the whole matter once and for all.

Double Standards III

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Thought about this topic for the past 2 days? Come to any concrete conclusions? Made a firm decision? Not that you have to answer me anyway. As the Bard said "To thine own self be true." Remember that.

Refresh yourself Part I and Part II.

NOT POLITICS AGAIN!

I give you a real life example now. Getting political just for a moment. Bear with me.

The former president used "signing statements" to say a bill he signed into law did not apply to his administration. The Damnocrats wailed, gnashed their teeth and generally threw what we in the South call a hissy fit. The current president was among those throwing a tantrum.

The current president uses "signing statements" to say a bill he signed into law does not apply to his administration. The Reboobicans wail, gnash their teeth and generally have what we in the South call a hissy fit.

This is only one of many examples where the two presidents did exactly the same thing much to the chagrin of the opposing party and delight of their own party.

I call this thinking Idiotology.

And if it lands on the edge?

Let's get back to the central question, why is it OK for one person to do something and not OK for another person to do it? Whittle off variables until you are down to what amounts to two stick-man figures. One stick man can do it and the other stick man cannot.

If you reached a decision or you didn't, cool, either way. That gives us three options.

1) You decided double standards are acceptable

2) You decided double standards are not acceptable

3) You did not decide

Let’s look at these answers in reverse order.

If you never make a mistake, you never learn

If you did not decide, why? I will always accept an honest "I don't know" as a legitimate answer. But I don't think you can honestly give that answer. In this case, if you did not decide I tell you what Geddy Lee sings "If you choose not to decide you still have a made a choice." I think you decided in favor of double standards because you will not say they are wrong. Indecision is support of the status quo.

If you reached a decision, what grounds did you use for it? Doesn't matter what you decided. If you reached a decision, how did you get there? Regardless of your decision, did you base your decision on substance, facts and reality? Will your reasoning process stand up to my advocates diaboli attacks? Think so? Willing to put your words to the Redneck Genius Turing Test?

Hit me baby.

Or did you fall back on the excuse we ALL HATED to hear when we were kids "Because I say so." Your parents said that. It was a cop out then and it is a cop out now.

Working with reality here...

When you're dealing with equals, "because I say so" is truly an excuse. A cheap power play. An effort to exercise whatever atrophied muscles you have left. A pathetic attempt to self-justify what you know is wrong. You do it because you can. You have rejected reality and attempt to substitute your delusional view in its place.

In short - Might makes right.

Or, you are rebelling because you can. No real reason, just because you can. The worst part about being a rebel is living long enough to suffer the consequences of your actions.

In other words, your ship is busy sinking, still taking fire and you say "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead."

Eh. Philosophical meanderings that don't really anything while saying an encyclopedia.

Note to self...

Here's the real rubber on the road. However you decided, however you reasoned, if the opposing side uses the exact same arguments, what are you going to think about it?

Will you think they are being fair? Will you call them unjust? If it's good for the goose, the other goose deserves the same treatment.

If you set the rules and the other side plays by them, who is really at fault?

What does your decision really say about you? A better question - Do you want to associate with people who make decisions the way you do?

No particular reasons for this. I found it amusing.

Double Standards II

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Go back and read yesterday’s piece to get caught up for this one.

Does an accident of birth give me the right to do something and deny you that same right?

[snort!]

A lot of people argue yes for this. While I have said it before, it’s still not a valid argument. Consider the word “nigger.” Why can some people use this word and others can’t?

Saying an accident of birth gives you the right to use it and not me is a cop out of the highest order. You are hiding behind a lie, compounding that falsehood and continuing to perpetrate your disingenuous ways.

Speaking of prejudice, Tom Clark author of the mind-engaging Blatherspot offered this: “Since I have been told point-blank by members of a particular minority group that it is impossible for them to be prejudiced because they are of said group, I must pose a counter-question, to wit: Why is it okay for some groups to be either A) ignorant or, B) obstinate, or C) disingenuous? The particular minority in question, by the way, enjoys an enormous number of perks not available to the rest of the US population, and so feels itself to be privileged. Given the aforementioned perks, it actually is, de-facto, a privileged class.”

Nuf said on that specific.

Taking a slightly different track, does an accident of geography give you the right to do something and deny me that same right?

Coming RIGHT NOW to a Washington DC

Well, in this political reality of this world, the answer has to be yes. Here in the United States I have a freedom of speech that is probably the most unrestricted in the world. My Aussie chums in the newspaper bidden tell me stuff printed here would land the editor, reporter and publisher in court in a hurry and they would lose in Down Under.

So, let’s set aside artificial boundaries created by artificial political divisions.

Why can you do something and it is acceptable and when I do it, it is not acceptable?

You are looking for another for instance. I’ll give you one from  the history of my community which shows parity.

We had a superior court judge some years ago who would hand down a Contempt of Court fine to anyone who showed up for court late.

The judge showed up for court late one day. He looked around and decided to be fair. He found himself in contempt of court and fined himself.

That is parity. The judge realized he had a standard to uphold and he upheld it.

Most judges I know would not do this.

So why is it OK for a judge to be late to court and not OK for those petitioning the court to be late? Doesn’t the law apply to all?

Just another example to chew on.

Move out of the courts and law. Put this on a more even ground than we’re already on.

I give you another example, semi-hypothetical. Two students Phread and Ghorge. Phread has a 3.8 GPA. Ghorge has a 3.5 GPA. In all other respects except one, they are identical.

They both apply to a college and Ghorge gets accepted while Phread is rejected.

Remember, there is only one other difference in the two. Assume you don’t know this difference and had to weigh their college applications which are as close to identical as two applications could reasonably get. Who would you accept into college?

MLK said it

That other difference is known to the college admissions people.

Ghorge gets in. Phread doesn’t.

Yeah, that’s a pretty easy on. Affirmative action admission policies. One of the two is a “minority.” Which one is the minority?

Hint: It’s not Ghorge.

Threw you there didn’t I?

More tomorrow.

Double Standards

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Why is it OK for some people to do something and not other people?

When I posed this question yesterday, I got this reply: “Could be several factors... race, religion, morals, values, ethics, etc.”

Or vice versa

Then, I got this addenda: “and something (commentor) omitted... Equipment”

So, I tightened up the question a bit: Physical and mental attributes being equal, I reiterate and add this. Person A does this. It is OK. Person B does it and Person A says it is not OK.

One respondent asked if Person A and Person B are adults. “There are definitely things that are OK for me to do, but not my children.”

Note my rephrased question. I add this:

The only variables permitted in my question are those which the person has control over. In other words, religion is a choice. Birth gender is not a choice.

Can I get a witness?

I’m trying to keep this simple. So I ask again: Why is it OK for some people to do something and not other people?

I draw your attention to this fact: I have done things. Some people have threatened to kill me because of what I did.

BUT! When these same people do the same thing, it’s OK and even laudable under some circumstances.

Want a for instance?


PETA killed 95 percent of the adoptable pets under PETA care. When I lived on a farm and shot stray animals, PETA members who found out threatened to kill me.

Is there a real difference? What makes it OK for PETA to put down unwanted pets and when I do the same thing, that’s not OK?

There's a reason for that. Men buy comic books.

That’s just one example. I have more and I do have a very specific one I will get to.

Let me be vague again.

Person A commits an act. Person B condemns it, harshly. Hints that the action may be illegal.

Some time later Person B commits the same act. What was one detestable has now become commendable.

There is one variable, a mental decision. All the rest of the circumstances are identical.

Why? What could happen to make this acceptable?

More tomorrow. We have enough to mentally masticate today.

From me buddy CB.

The War redux

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Say "The War" to a person of my heritage and only one conflict comes to mind. The caps are important.

Is the stage being set for a second one? Montana is certainly pointing in that direction.

Bout $8K or more worth of guns.

Say what? To explain, the Supreme Court in the Citizens United case ruled corporations have the same rights as citizens. A decision, incidentally, the current president lambasted and now embraces, a matter which still drives me into paroxysms of laughter.

This is not the only time Montana has decided to express sovereign rights. The legislature there passed a law stating firearms suppressors (aka Can, Silencer, etc) made in Montana and used in Montana and never leaving the state are not subject to federal oversight.

Really. Buy a can in Montana and you don't need to get federal permission, so say state leaders.

This one has yet to be tested in federal court. But given the Montana Supreme Court decision on corporate citizenship, I don't think Montana will care what the federal courts say.

Forget hell!

However, in Montana, it is not the state which will be held liable. It is an individual. Someone has to buy a can without paying the federal fees. Then the court cases begin.

Given the current leaning of SCOTUS, I hesitate to say how that body would rule.

But. As the federal regulation relies on the Interstate Commerce clause of the Constitution, overturning the can laws would set a precedent for a LOT of other federal regulation.

Slinging another "but" at you, SCOTUS is already headed for an Interstate Commerce clause showdown, over the socialized medicine National Health Care bill.

No matter what is decided on that one, it's gonna set precedents. The decision will be used if a suppressor case from Montana ever gets to the Supremes.

I opined long ago that if the South had not attempted to break away from the federal government, the West would have. It just makes sense, if you look at the political geography.

Montana is certainly rolling down the road toward breaking away unless the federal government loosens its stranglehold on states and citizens.

Me? I like the idea.

Frydee Funnie

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Until I change my mind, or I come up with something I need to write and have 2 Friday blogs, I'm gonna make Fridays a humor stop. Give you something hopefully to be bit of a chuckle.


A TOUGH TRUCK

Wanted. A tough truck

Recently while shopping for some new wheels, I took to reading “reviews” of new trucks in outdoors magazines. These so-called “reviews” of the trucks are pretty much a joke. You could take a Cadillac and run them through the same kinds of tests and get similar results.

F’rinstance, take this excerpt: “The dual shock suspension provided a comfortable ride even on the roughest terrain we encountered.”

Yeah. Right. Golf courses are some really tough places to test drive an off road vehicle. I wanna know, how is the ride while sliding down a pond dam. Will I spill my coffee on the dash? How comfortable is the ride while chasing a bobcat through a just-harvested corn field at 10 p.m. on a Saturday night?

As far as the suspension goes, that’s pretty much irrelevant. Suspension doesn’t mean a hill of beans when the front end of the truck hits a rock and the axle falls off. Shock absorbers to are a bunch of nonsense. We’re talking about an off road vehicle. A shock absorber here is a well developed spinal column. If I wanted a smooth ride, I would never have left the highway.

Then, there is the classic “It handles well in tight turns.”

I wish a writer would tell me how easy it is to turn the thing upright after it flipped over after failing to complete a tight turn at 60 mph to avoid flying into a ravine slightly less deep than the Grand Canyon because the fool driver missed the correct turn in the first place. Can Hawgin'’, er, the fool driver, and I turn the truck back upright or are we going to need a wrecker and a half dozen more rednecks?

Power is another thing these writers seem to be hung up on. Heck, my lawnmower will pull many boats. What I want to know is: Can this truck haul another truck attached to a boat and trailer up the ramp and out of Little River at Red Roberts landing? I need enough power in a truck to do this ... at least I did last week.

The ability to go through “mud” is another hot topic. The writer hires the local fire department to hose down a side spot on a dirt road and the writer flies down the road and then reports the truck handles well “off road” and gets good traction. Oh puh-leeze. Tell me if I can cross the Alapaha River over in Irwin County. I really need to know that. Could I drive down the Ocmulgee River in 4x4 low? In case you doubt me, somewhere I have pictures of a truck I stuck so badly it took a semi wrecker to haul it free and that almost didn’t get it. Furthermore, the truck was stuck in my parents-in- law’s yard in Mississippi.

Gas mileage reports annoy me. I don’t care what kind of mileage I get on the highway. If I run out of gas there, I’m usually within walking distance of a gas station. I need to know how long a half a tank of gas will last if I’m on a mountain side stuck in the snow. How many times can I pull  Hawgin’s truck out of the mud before I need to refuel? What kind of mileage can I expect while chasing down the dogs? How long will it take me to refill the tank by siphoning gas from Hawgin’s truck while he’s still on a deer stand? Then, how hard is the thing to push out of the way if I run out of gas.

Big cow-catcher bumpers are really popular among the 4x4 city drivers. These bumpers are strategically designed to absorb the impact of, say, a pine cone falling from 30 feet and distribute the impact along the length of the bumper so instead of getting a wrinkled fender, the whole front end is crushed. I need a real bumper, something substantial like another entire truck strapped across the front end as a sacrificial vehicle. Having had more run-in than I care to think about with jumping trees, I need something that will be there when I need it, something I can use to run into brick walls, wild hogs, Damnocrats, or something equally unlovable without me or the truck getting hurt in the process.

I also want to know how tough the sides are. Will the door panels stay bent of they hit a tree while the truck slides down a hill in the middle of Stewart County? Is the hood sturdy enough to support some fat hunting buddy standing on the hood to listen for the dogs so we can go catch ‘em or is he going to leave a dent bigger than some western U.S. lakes?

The “0-to-60” test is not as popular with truck writers as it is with sports car writers, but it is just as important. I want a truck that will not only outrun the game warden, but will get me into the next county before he has time to read the license plate ... um, not that I ever have need to run fro m these fine stewards of the game laws. This is a “just in case” kind of thing.

I also wonder what these writers mean by roomy. Will it hold my tackle boxes (small children can live in my tackle boxes), rods and reels, at least 2 shotguns per family member and/or passenger, a .22 rifle and a deer rifle per family member/ and or passenger, a case of ammunition per gun, a tent, a canoe, the dogs, me, several coolers, camp stove, cameras, computer, first aid kit, second aid kit, a body bag in case the aid kits aren’t enough, the change of clothes I always want to pack but forget to take and still have enough room for Shari to spread a map across the dash to prevent me from seeing the road so she can explain just how lost I’ve gotten us now and that’s just on the trip to the campground? In fact, I need enough room to live in the thing for about two days without having to leave for any reason. That’s what I call roomy.

Furthermore is the tailgate one of the chomping variety with an appetite for Orvis flyrods, Benelli shotguns, fingers and $15 fishing lures or is it a normal tailgate that won’t chomp anything without at least giving a gentlemanly notice? I’m tired of buying cheap outdoors gear because I’m afraid the tailgate will reduce it to splinters. The vet has refused to reattach my bird dog’s tail again.

Yes, these are some tough questions, but I need answers to them. If any of the truck makers think they make a truck tough enough for the Ben Baker test, let me know. We’ll do the Okefenokee.

The Cult of Personality

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I dunno if it is a majority (probably not), but it is a disturbing large percent of the people. Even one is too many.

Actions speak louder than words.

Too many, at least according to the precepts these people claim to live by.

The guidelines they voluntarily choose to follow state they do not follow a man. They follow a higher order, or so they say.

In case you missed it, what people say and what people do are not always in perfect alignment.


The people whom I speak of today are those who follow a cult of personality, bow their heads, bend a knee and give their allegiance to one man.

They will, of course, vehemently deny this.

Actions speak louder than words.

Here's proof.

The preacher in this story, Ed Dobson, routinely had crowds of 5,000 or so people in church, the story says. "After retirement six years ago, the massive crowds went away."

Yep. Another one.

Ah.  Ed was not pastor at Calvary Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

Ed was the figure of worship at the Cult of Personality Calvary Church in Grand Rapids, Mich.

This statement will infuriate many people, all of whom are those who exulted at the throne of Ed. If Ed ever reads this, it will bother him too.

Amen.

These people were not interested in attending a Christian church. They were interested in attending an Ed church.

The extended reasoning in this is also going to infuriate a lot of other "Christians" who follow the man behind the pulpit and not the Man above the pulpit.

Change the preacher at any church and a number of people are going to leave.

It's a cult of personality.

The people who left never attended church. They attended the preacher. They came because of who was doing the speaking, not the subject matter. They were not there to learn what was being taught. They were there to learn who was doing the teaching.

I note the immediate above image. This man's ratings among a segment of the population have never dipped below 90 percent, despite or in spite of his performance. That too is a cult of personality.

Whenever you focus on the person bringing a message and ignore the message, then you set up a cult. When you consider the outside and ignore the inside, you have a cult. When you hear the words and ignore the deeds, you have a cult.

The Bible is right when it calls humanity sheep. We are.We follow anyone who even looks like they can lead.

Looking for the cult of personality and someone to follow is just human nature. Only the very strongest can break away from this impulse.

A few become wolves.

Even fewer can become real humans, the kind of human that nearly every religion in the world says a person is supposed to become.

A lift of the editor's bottle in memory of a fallen brother and sister

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Robert Capa said "If your photographs aren't good enough, you're not close enough." How good was he? Aside from being killed by a land mine, check this picture. http://notcloseenough.blogspot.com/2009/03/falling-soldier-robert-capa.html (That's a Mosin-Nagant in his hands BTW.)

Mawk Arnold told me "Benjamin, mortars don't care if you are a journalist."

With that in mind, I bring you this news: Journalists Marie Colvin and Remi Ochlik were killed in a bombing in Syria.

Arg. Pardon me while I lift the editor's bottle in their memory. My sister, my brother, you will be missed.

Complain about journalists all you wish, but the fact remains, we do put our lives on the line to bring you news. You may attempt to call BS on that one, so I point you to Marie and Remi above.

I also point you to the Committee to Protect Journalists which tracks attacks on journalists around the globe.

The fact is journalism is a dangerous business. No, not as dangerous as some careers, but dangerous. I've received death threats, violence threats and was mildly attacked once over a HUMOR COLUMN of all things. I cannot count the number of times people have threatened to sue me. None have followed through yet.

I have never been a war correspondent, although I dearly wanted to the first time we went to war with Iraq. Issues at home kept me at home. These days I rarely want to be on the front lines. Such reporting is for younger folks, literally battle-hardened reporters and those whose homes and countries are fighting.

It was sometime after the Vietnam war when journalists lost their battle immunity. It really ramped up in the 80s. By that I mean before 'Nam journalists were not taken prisoner, not intentionally attacked (mortars being indiscriminate as Mawk said) and generally had the freedom to talk to all sides.

Something changed. Suddenly, journalists became targets. One side in the fight objected to the reports about the other side. The journalist filing those stories was hunted down.

Yes, Twitter, Facebook, Youtube and other social media has dramatically changed the way war is covered. Citizen journalism has also dramatically changed the way news is gathered and disseminated in non war zones. In an ironic twist, these people are discovering that journalism actually is dangerous as they face reprisals.

As much as these people contribute, we still need journalists with an objective eye to bring us news. We always will.

Unfortunately that means journalists will continue to die as they try to bring you the truth. That means the editor's bottle will have to be lifted again.

The cost of truth is too often paid with human lives.