A 16-year-old kid was hauled out of his bed by 10 federal agents and hasn't been heard from by his mother or anyone else for two months. Here's the TV news clip on it.
This is the kind of stuff that Dubya and other "patriots" said we wouldn't have to worry about. As the mother says, it's like we're living in a Third World country.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
My dad died yesterday morning at 5:30
It was sudden and not-so-sudden. When I saw him four months ago, he was cheerful and pretty sprightly -- for a man who drank a gallon of sweet coffee every day, smoked a pack of cigarettes every day, drank at least 6 beers a day, and sometimes ate not one bit of actual food during a day's time.
Then, two weeks ago, his body surrendered, shutting almost completely down from the decades of torture. My brother and I had been haranguing him for quite some time to change his habits and aim for a lifespan of 90 years. He didn't. He was obstinate and stubborn, as many of you know. He died at 68 young years. He spent two weeks in and out of hospitals. Got care-flighted once. Was on machines and morphine. His body expelled things that no person would want to see, though my brother, Mike, cleaned it up in the middle of the night at his Texas home, off and on for those two weeks. My father planned and lived for retirement. He got one year of it.
In Georgia, I'd been getting the daily updates on the "black tar" that came from his body. I was stunned to hear that my once-mighty father was succumbing so mind-numbingly fast to the inevitable. The doctors said his liver was 92% gone. His gall bladder was gone. His heart was barely able to beat and occasionally stopped. He had two malignant tumors on his lungs. His intestines were a mangled clump of infestation.
Perhaps any other person of lesser willpower would've slowly succumbed. Not Jerry Franklin Elmore. My father. He was a rather small but imposing man in my early years. The "Fifties" father -- remote, authoritarian, occasionally loving, domineering, chauvinistic, hard-working, non-communicative. He softened over the years, as much as such a man could. He never wrote, hardly ever called until two years ago, when he began to call every other week to catch up. He told countless jokes, none of them funny. His delivery was awful, and that was funny.
He was a wilderness man, a 19th century Davy Crockett with an edge. He had a wry gleam in his eye and could be charismatic, gentle and teary when talking to Mike and I in these last few years. He kissed us on the cheek whenever we parted. I would sometimes cry a bit when he did so.
Like many such men, mortality made visits and was the only thing that could get his full attention. On those occasions, his vulnerability was stark, and my sympathy was strong. Mike and I kissed my dad on the cheek each night before bed until we were 10 years old. I don't know how that started, but we liked that one soft physical contact. He had a tenderness that only those very close to him saw, but he let nobody near his center. I don't know if he ever really knew where his center was. His dad was often a brute and physically punitive, as many fathers were back then. My dad never recovered from that treatment. Mike says that when my dad was in a dreamy stupor in the wee hours a few days before he died, my dad gazed at Mike and said, "Daddy, will you take me fishing? Why won't you go fishing with me, daddy?" Mike balled, as I did when he told me the story.
I was asleep in a hotel during a business trip in New York City when my dad died. I got Mike's message when I woke up. I knew what the message would be when I saw that he had called. I didn't cry then. I did when I called Mike to talk about our father and reminisce. I found that it was mainly the good things about him that came to mind during all those years of acquaintance: that broad smile, the shoulder-raising chuckle, the bad jokes, the cheek-kisses, the bawdy talk, the occasional vulnerability.
I will miss him. I wish I could miss him more. I wish he could've been like Mike and I are now. Open men who are easy with our children, loving, affectionate, empathetic, rightly confident. Mike and I are the elder statesmen now. We will be and are better examples for our children.
I will call my dad "daddy" for a moment, as I did when I was very young, so that I may remember that feeling of family and bond and extraordinary youth and vigor. I will let my mind sweep through the years and think of time's lapse and the blink of 40 years. Time moves on, and he has moved on. I will never feel his warm cheek again or see the glint in the eye. Our relationship has ended. He will never see Livy again, and I will soon tell her that her Grandpa Jericho is dead. She will ask why, and I will explain. And the memories will return, and the thought of my daddy dead and alone in a hospital morgue will revisit me.
I am sobbing now. And so, goodbye daddy.
Then, two weeks ago, his body surrendered, shutting almost completely down from the decades of torture. My brother and I had been haranguing him for quite some time to change his habits and aim for a lifespan of 90 years. He didn't. He was obstinate and stubborn, as many of you know. He died at 68 young years. He spent two weeks in and out of hospitals. Got care-flighted once. Was on machines and morphine. His body expelled things that no person would want to see, though my brother, Mike, cleaned it up in the middle of the night at his Texas home, off and on for those two weeks. My father planned and lived for retirement. He got one year of it.
In Georgia, I'd been getting the daily updates on the "black tar" that came from his body. I was stunned to hear that my once-mighty father was succumbing so mind-numbingly fast to the inevitable. The doctors said his liver was 92% gone. His gall bladder was gone. His heart was barely able to beat and occasionally stopped. He had two malignant tumors on his lungs. His intestines were a mangled clump of infestation.
Perhaps any other person of lesser willpower would've slowly succumbed. Not Jerry Franklin Elmore. My father. He was a rather small but imposing man in my early years. The "Fifties" father -- remote, authoritarian, occasionally loving, domineering, chauvinistic, hard-working, non-communicative. He softened over the years, as much as such a man could. He never wrote, hardly ever called until two years ago, when he began to call every other week to catch up. He told countless jokes, none of them funny. His delivery was awful, and that was funny.
He was a wilderness man, a 19th century Davy Crockett with an edge. He had a wry gleam in his eye and could be charismatic, gentle and teary when talking to Mike and I in these last few years. He kissed us on the cheek whenever we parted. I would sometimes cry a bit when he did so.
Like many such men, mortality made visits and was the only thing that could get his full attention. On those occasions, his vulnerability was stark, and my sympathy was strong. Mike and I kissed my dad on the cheek each night before bed until we were 10 years old. I don't know how that started, but we liked that one soft physical contact. He had a tenderness that only those very close to him saw, but he let nobody near his center. I don't know if he ever really knew where his center was. His dad was often a brute and physically punitive, as many fathers were back then. My dad never recovered from that treatment. Mike says that when my dad was in a dreamy stupor in the wee hours a few days before he died, my dad gazed at Mike and said, "Daddy, will you take me fishing? Why won't you go fishing with me, daddy?" Mike balled, as I did when he told me the story.
I was asleep in a hotel during a business trip in New York City when my dad died. I got Mike's message when I woke up. I knew what the message would be when I saw that he had called. I didn't cry then. I did when I called Mike to talk about our father and reminisce. I found that it was mainly the good things about him that came to mind during all those years of acquaintance: that broad smile, the shoulder-raising chuckle, the bad jokes, the cheek-kisses, the bawdy talk, the occasional vulnerability.
I will miss him. I wish I could miss him more. I wish he could've been like Mike and I are now. Open men who are easy with our children, loving, affectionate, empathetic, rightly confident. Mike and I are the elder statesmen now. We will be and are better examples for our children.
I will call my dad "daddy" for a moment, as I did when I was very young, so that I may remember that feeling of family and bond and extraordinary youth and vigor. I will let my mind sweep through the years and think of time's lapse and the blink of 40 years. Time moves on, and he has moved on. I will never feel his warm cheek again or see the glint in the eye. Our relationship has ended. He will never see Livy again, and I will soon tell her that her Grandpa Jericho is dead. She will ask why, and I will explain. And the memories will return, and the thought of my daddy dead and alone in a hospital morgue will revisit me.
I am sobbing now. And so, goodbye daddy.
It sucks to be a kangaroo, man!
In case you haven't heard, Australia is killing off 6,000 kangaroos with guns and bombs and assorted death instruments.
And why are the Aussies committing the kang-ocide of the cute little hippety-hoppities? Well, to save endangered insects, of course, you dummy! And a few reptiles, too.
"Endangered insects?" you ask. Uhuh. I wondered the same. Didn't know such a thing existed, though I guess those darling little snail-darters were (are) insects. Evidently, the kangaroos are just eating too darn much grass. (Where the hell are the grass-rights activists when you need them?!)
All of that said, I have to thank the cute roos for sacrificing themselves for wonderful comic relief. Their deaths have put the weeds-and-seeds crowd (that's "animal rights activists" to you unwashed masses) in a snit. Better yet, the deaths have created that lovely perfect storm of dissonance (please notice I did not say "cognitive dissonance," because the weedy-seedys crowd has no cognition) whenever certain animals are encroaching on other animals' "habitats."
"Who do we save?" "What do we do?" "All life is precious. Oh no no no no no no no no!"
Quote one weedy-seedy: "We're not going to sit back and let it (kang-ocide) happen."
OK, here's a plan then, weedy-seedy: Adopt-a-roo. Go out there and have a chat with the roos and offer them a home sweet home. Offer 'em three squares and a roof. Go hippity-hoppity in the yard with 'em. Teach them to respect the rights of their tiny little insect friends and reptile amigos. Have them put the insects and reptiles in their pouches, so they can nurture and "walk in their shoes" a bit.
Oh, one recommendation, weedy-seedy, on roo tendencies. They've got an awesome back kick with those muscular legs. You might want to be careful when you're picking up a stray insect escaping behind the roo. One swift, powerful slam to the head and you might kick-start that dormant brain, become semi-rational and shotgun that imposing roo.
Then listen very closely. Yes, that's the sound of thousands of insects singing "Margaritaville."
And why are the Aussies committing the kang-ocide of the cute little hippety-hoppities? Well, to save endangered insects, of course, you dummy! And a few reptiles, too.
"Endangered insects?" you ask. Uhuh. I wondered the same. Didn't know such a thing existed, though I guess those darling little snail-darters were (are) insects. Evidently, the kangaroos are just eating too darn much grass. (Where the hell are the grass-rights activists when you need them?!)
All of that said, I have to thank the cute roos for sacrificing themselves for wonderful comic relief. Their deaths have put the weeds-and-seeds crowd (that's "animal rights activists" to you unwashed masses) in a snit. Better yet, the deaths have created that lovely perfect storm of dissonance (please notice I did not say "cognitive dissonance," because the weedy-seedys crowd has no cognition) whenever certain animals are encroaching on other animals' "habitats."
"Who do we save?" "What do we do?" "All life is precious. Oh no no no no no no no no!"
Quote one weedy-seedy: "We're not going to sit back and let it (kang-ocide) happen."
OK, here's a plan then, weedy-seedy: Adopt-a-roo. Go out there and have a chat with the roos and offer them a home sweet home. Offer 'em three squares and a roof. Go hippity-hoppity in the yard with 'em. Teach them to respect the rights of their tiny little insect friends and reptile amigos. Have them put the insects and reptiles in their pouches, so they can nurture and "walk in their shoes" a bit.
Oh, one recommendation, weedy-seedy, on roo tendencies. They've got an awesome back kick with those muscular legs. You might want to be careful when you're picking up a stray insect escaping behind the roo. One swift, powerful slam to the head and you might kick-start that dormant brain, become semi-rational and shotgun that imposing roo.
Then listen very closely. Yes, that's the sound of thousands of insects singing "Margaritaville."
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Here's a "stress test" I can buy
I sent the following letter to the Wall Street Journal today:
___________
While our government is in the mood for stress-testing the private companies it has taken by fiat, let’s try a new kind of stress test.
Let’s find out how much stress the fascist designs of the Bush and Obama administrations have put upon the free market and private investors – not to mention all American citizens – by the artificial propping-up of failing institutions and the blatant confiscation of Americans’ hard-earned money for same.
___________
While our government is in the mood for stress-testing the private companies it has taken by fiat, let’s try a new kind of stress test.
Let’s find out how much stress the fascist designs of the Bush and Obama administrations have put upon the free market and private investors – not to mention all American citizens – by the artificial propping-up of failing institutions and the blatant confiscation of Americans’ hard-earned money for same.
Monday, May 04, 2009
Uncle Sam wants YOUR kids screened for depression
OK, this has been a day of fascism alerts like few others on my blog. Here's the latest. A government medical panel has determined that 6% of teens are depressed, so the panel insists that ALL teens get a psyche analysis.
I want to scream "CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?" But, of course, that would be a rhetorical question. I also want to scream, "We are sliding into the fucking fascist abyss here!" but, well, OK ... WE ARE SLIDING INTO THE FUCKING FASCIST ABYSS HERE!
What's obvious here and in the other posts is that the government has taken upon itself the well-being of American citizens' children. The irony here is that many of the psycho kids are actually manufactured in the government indoctrination camps they refer to as "public schools." The cognitive dissonance created by telling children that they are important and then coercing children doesn't register with the fascists and never will. It's another example of how government develops another fascist "solution" for a previous fascist "solution."
The people who need the psyche analysis are those on the medical panel and politicians -- and those who voted them into office.
... after they get a good ass-kicking!
I want to scream "CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?" But, of course, that would be a rhetorical question. I also want to scream, "We are sliding into the fucking fascist abyss here!" but, well, OK ... WE ARE SLIDING INTO THE FUCKING FASCIST ABYSS HERE!
What's obvious here and in the other posts is that the government has taken upon itself the well-being of American citizens' children. The irony here is that many of the psycho kids are actually manufactured in the government indoctrination camps they refer to as "public schools." The cognitive dissonance created by telling children that they are important and then coercing children doesn't register with the fascists and never will. It's another example of how government develops another fascist "solution" for a previous fascist "solution."
The people who need the psyche analysis are those on the medical panel and politicians -- and those who voted them into office.
... after they get a good ass-kicking!
Swoosh! The exhilirating age of technology
This YouTube video puts the information age in fascinating perspective. (While you read that line, 10,000 people Googled.)
And it makes a mockery of so-called public education's attempts to "prepare" children for their adult lives.
And it makes a mockery of so-called public education's attempts to "prepare" children for their adult lives.
Eyewitness in Canada to socialized medicine's black hole
Here is a terrific article from a Canadian doctor on the horrors of the "government health care" that Obama Dead Eyes and his cabal insist on.
What's interesting about this article (which is explicit but says nothing that you and I haven't heard before) is that private health care is making a resurgence despite the government's attempt to outlaw private medicinal work.
You just can't keep down capitalists, can you?!
What's interesting about this article (which is explicit but says nothing that you and I haven't heard before) is that private health care is making a resurgence despite the government's attempt to outlaw private medicinal work.
You just can't keep down capitalists, can you?!
Monitoring BMI, another state has a BM on parents/students' rights
Massachusetts announced last month that it will begin monitoring public-indoctrination-camp kids (aka "students") for their body-mass index (BMI) because so many such kids are getting obese and because the altru-fascist state has already assumed that it owns the bodies of kids via legislation requiring indoctrination.
Some people rolls their eyes when I mention the word "fascist" when talking about modern governments in the United States. If enough of these parents keep getting shit upon, perhaps they'll stop rolling their eyes and start enrolling in courses on Objectivism, so that they can gird themselves for the inevitable fight ahead between statism and freedom.
Some people rolls their eyes when I mention the word "fascist" when talking about modern governments in the United States. If enough of these parents keep getting shit upon, perhaps they'll stop rolling their eyes and start enrolling in courses on Objectivism, so that they can gird themselves for the inevitable fight ahead between statism and freedom.
Capitalism's staunchest supporters are ... Us!
A column in today's issue of the Wall Street Journal stated that all capitalists want some government regulation. I disabused him of that idea in my letter below today:
__________________________-
Dear editor,
After reciting the partially-correct comments on capitalism by Richard Posner, L. Gordon Crovitz then states in his final paragraph that “even capitalism’s staunchest supporters recognize that it cannot function unless government plays its proper part.”
No we don’t.
Can it be possible that Mr. Crovitz is not familiar with capitalism’s staunchest supporters: Objectivists, who have been saying for 50 years that it is fundamentally immoral for government to have any part in the private affairs of Americans?
We Objectivists, numbering now in the tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands in America alone, have been saying in interviews on the major TV networks and in major newspapers for decades now that government cannot morally have any governance in the private or business lives of Americans. Let me repeat the word “any.” It is blatantly immoral for government to coercively tell business what it can and can’t do with its own money and products.
Mr. Posner and Mr. Crovitz would have done their readers a much bigger favor by stating that it is up to the stock investor himself to be responsible for his funds in a totally free market by doing two things: a) Ensure that a company has transparency; b) do not invest in a company unless you have all the knowledge necessary to make a sound investment.
Regulations are immoral farces meant to allegedly protect the ignorant and to prop up bureaucrats. No amount of government intervention can supplant the two principles above. Moreover, any government intervention is simply gussied-up fascism.
I hope Mr. Crovitz will remember capitalism’s staunchest supporters next time around.
__________________________-
Dear editor,
After reciting the partially-correct comments on capitalism by Richard Posner, L. Gordon Crovitz then states in his final paragraph that “even capitalism’s staunchest supporters recognize that it cannot function unless government plays its proper part.”
No we don’t.
Can it be possible that Mr. Crovitz is not familiar with capitalism’s staunchest supporters: Objectivists, who have been saying for 50 years that it is fundamentally immoral for government to have any part in the private affairs of Americans?
We Objectivists, numbering now in the tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands in America alone, have been saying in interviews on the major TV networks and in major newspapers for decades now that government cannot morally have any governance in the private or business lives of Americans. Let me repeat the word “any.” It is blatantly immoral for government to coercively tell business what it can and can’t do with its own money and products.
Mr. Posner and Mr. Crovitz would have done their readers a much bigger favor by stating that it is up to the stock investor himself to be responsible for his funds in a totally free market by doing two things: a) Ensure that a company has transparency; b) do not invest in a company unless you have all the knowledge necessary to make a sound investment.
Regulations are immoral farces meant to allegedly protect the ignorant and to prop up bureaucrats. No amount of government intervention can supplant the two principles above. Moreover, any government intervention is simply gussied-up fascism.
I hope Mr. Crovitz will remember capitalism’s staunchest supporters next time around.
Sunday, May 03, 2009
Police raid traumatizes small family co-op in Ohio
Jack-booted thugs (aka police) raided a small family co-op in Ohio last year because the family was selling some of its organic food to neighbors and teaching neighbors how to grow the way they do. Here's the story.
It's a bone-chilling story about a night-time raid, shattered nerves, restless follow-up nights, and fascism. There'd never been any complaint against the farmers -- not that that would've vindicated any such action -- but there appears to be no other reason other than the government considered the food production and merchandising to be its province. To its great credit, The Buckeye Institute has filed suit against the Ohio Dept. of Agriculture and other agencies, stating that the raid was a violation of constitutional rights!
Those of us who are regularly scandalized by government imposition and theft of big business find in this little story the same brand of fascism, but many of the members of home-schooling groups I'm involved with are just now incredulous. Many of these incredulous home-schoolers proudly invoke Obama Dead Eyes' name and policies, and there is regular derision cast against big business, as well as accolades for regulation and bailouts. So I wrote the following post to one of those lists:
_________________
Most of you have probably seen the video and read about the police raid of the family co-op in Ohio. This was posted on the regular CHE group list.
The main point I want to make on this fascist police raid by government is that the reason the police raid was wrong was that humans have an inalienable right to their property and life. The principle of individual rights cannot EVER be violated, no matter if it is a little child operating a lemon stand or a giant oil corporation operating a $100 billion annual business or a family running a co-op.
If a person is going to get upset about what happened to the humble Stower family (rightly so), then the same person should apply the same principle to the property rights of other homeowners and other business operators.
So, if you’re the kind of person who thinks it’s OK to regulate big business or to bail out companies by stealing money from ordinary citizens, I hope this post and the righteous indignation that you justly feel for the Stowers will make you rethink the principle involved and then feel the same indignation about ANY violation of property rights.
It is all fascism. Size doesn’t matter.
It's a bone-chilling story about a night-time raid, shattered nerves, restless follow-up nights, and fascism. There'd never been any complaint against the farmers -- not that that would've vindicated any such action -- but there appears to be no other reason other than the government considered the food production and merchandising to be its province. To its great credit, The Buckeye Institute has filed suit against the Ohio Dept. of Agriculture and other agencies, stating that the raid was a violation of constitutional rights!
Those of us who are regularly scandalized by government imposition and theft of big business find in this little story the same brand of fascism, but many of the members of home-schooling groups I'm involved with are just now incredulous. Many of these incredulous home-schoolers proudly invoke Obama Dead Eyes' name and policies, and there is regular derision cast against big business, as well as accolades for regulation and bailouts. So I wrote the following post to one of those lists:
_________________
Most of you have probably seen the video and read about the police raid of the family co-op in Ohio. This was posted on the regular CHE group list.
The main point I want to make on this fascist police raid by government is that the reason the police raid was wrong was that humans have an inalienable right to their property and life. The principle of individual rights cannot EVER be violated, no matter if it is a little child operating a lemon stand or a giant oil corporation operating a $100 billion annual business or a family running a co-op.
If a person is going to get upset about what happened to the humble Stower family (rightly so), then the same person should apply the same principle to the property rights of other homeowners and other business operators.
So, if you’re the kind of person who thinks it’s OK to regulate big business or to bail out companies by stealing money from ordinary citizens, I hope this post and the righteous indignation that you justly feel for the Stowers will make you rethink the principle involved and then feel the same indignation about ANY violation of property rights.
It is all fascism. Size doesn’t matter.
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