Thank You, Hwy 34 Towing

My thanks to Highway 34 Towing for getting our poor van back to Corvallis. In honor of the occasion: my first-ever picture post (which would make more sense if you had met the driver, who really did look like Dreadstar in his hoodie, honest). Doubtless I'll be cat-blogging in no time (or will once I get a cat).

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Sometimes enthusiasm is excusable."\\

Well, Good For Them

"Hi, John. Your former classmates are graduating, and having a party tomorrow. We'd like to see you there."

"Gee. I'd like to. On the other hand, I feel kind of as though I've finally healed up after the hysterectomy, and now I've been invited to a baby shower."

"That's understandable. But when are we ever going to be together again?"

"I'm over forty and my kids are grown, I suppose I don't have to do anything I really don't want to do. But maybe I really do want to go to this."

"Besides, Corporal R.N. is being sent back for a second tour in Iraq right after graduation."

"Oh, dear. He deserves a kind word at the very least. It's a disgrace on all of us that all that nonsense is still going on."

"Okay, see you there."

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "It's remarkable the things people really do want to do."\\

A Little Here, A Little There

I make a living (or close to one) by a variety of things: I'm an in-home caregiver, serving the needs of people who can't take care of everything themselves, but don't want to move into a care facility. I work occasionally at a daytime center for adults (mostly old people) who need some degree of assistance. I'm a writer, when I can force myself to do it (and can force myself to submit it to editors), and on rare occasions I get paid for it.

I like to think of myself as a massage therapist, but I don't make much of my income from it. Still, massage is something I do, and I make some money at it when I can. I have a studio at home, and I work from a clinic downtown, and I also make house calls.

The other day I was offered a rather unusual house call: to a house in the country, near Toledo. That's nearly an hour's drive, normally outside my range, but the client was someone I'd seen before, and she offered to pay extra for the mileage,and Kathe liked the idea of using the house call as an excuse for a quick trip to the coast.

We figured we'd go to the client's house together and she'd read int he car while I did the massage, and then we'd go past Toledo and on to Newport, then head home in time for me to work a night shift at a client's house in Corvallis.

What actually happened was that after my appointment, we drove into Toledo and tootled around a few blocks, enjoying glimpses of its unique character (creative architectural use of the hilly terrain, sculpture made from old industrial components). We were about to get back onto the highway and continue to Newport when the van started shaking horribly and parts literally fell off it.

We went into one of the only businesses open in Toledo on Saturday, a tavern called Holy Toledo!, where a very kind and helpful woman named Jackie helped us get our bearings and let us use her phone (no cellular service in Toledo).

Since there was no tow truck available, I drove with great care (Kathe following on foot, picking up bearings and nuts that fell off the left front axle) to the only auto shop in town that was open on Saturday. Incredibly, they were able to diagnose the problem as a damaged CV shaft and install a new one, all in time for us to drive back to Corvallis for my night shift. I called the home-care agency just to be on the safe side, so they could start trying to find someone who could work the shift for me, in case I couldn't get back in time.

We went and had lunch at one of the only restaurants open on Saturday, and came back to new bad news: as soon as the mechanic had tried to drive the van on its new CV shaft, the van tore it apart as it had the last one. Apparently the fault is actually in the transmission. Oy.

So, back to Holy Toledo!, where I called the agency and told them I probably couldn't make the shift after all, and Kathe and I tried to find a bus or car rental agency that could get us back over the Coast Range, and failing that (which we did), to find a friend who would come all the way to Toledo and drive us home. Incredibly, we did. Thanks, Dinaz!

We got back just about when my shift would have started, but the agency had already replaced me for the night, and I was just as glad I didn't have to work tonight.

On the way home, a migraine crept up on me and did me a world of hurt. I was in pretty bad shape by the time we got home, but at this point I feel pretty good, and look forward to a good night's sleep.

What crept up on Kathe during the ride was something less amenable to treatment. All along the way, she made observations like, "This is where the Pig Lady's house used to be" or "The road used to run up there, and down where we're driving was a lovely little hollow", or "There was a garage over there, that had been a blacksmith's shop, it was really charming". By the time she'd seen the straightened and sanitized highway a second time, she was depressed. The new Highway 20 to the coast may be faster and safer, but a great deal has been lost in the process.

So: a different day from most, but it had its good points. We have decided that we'll definitely go back to Toledo in order to intentionally explore it.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Go on a weekday."\\

From Pandagon, I followed a link to a guy who compares online cartoonist Chris Muir with Bill Mauldin.

Chris Muir? Bill Mauldin? Hoo boy.

Leaving aside the ability to draw worth a darn, or the ability to combine words and images to create an impact (maybe even a laugh)...

This guy really has no clue who Bill Mauldin was or what he believed in, does he?


This is as bad as that clown who tried to claim Johnny Cash as a conservative.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "No, it's worse."\\

Dear FCC

Dear FCC:

Please don't give our airwaves to AT&T.

I really think that would be a bad idea.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Consider history."\\

Action Figures? Bosch!

Hieronymous Bosch action figures.

Thereby proving that you really can find anything on the Net.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Your search for prophecy and snark is at an end."\\

Employee Free Choice Act

The name sounds suspiciously benign.

But it turns out that it actually does make it easier for workers to organize.

Sounds good to me. Union members working union jobs is one of the foundations of the country where I was born.

The country I sincerely hope to return to one day.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "You're so conservative."\\

Save Crisis Pregnancy Centers

Most crisis pregnancy centers perform noble service to women in difficult circumstances, women who often have nowhere else to turn. But they are in danger.

They're in danger of becoming like the worst of their kind: deceptive, manipulative, abusive operations that prey on the vulnerable.

Support legislation that can save crisis pregnancy centers from their own dark side, so they can continue to serve women instead of preying on them.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Who, me? I'm just a plastic ball with a floating doodad inside, what are you asking me for?"\\

The Paranoid Is Out To Get Us

WankNetDaily has issued a dire warning which is entirely correct.

Thereby demonstrating that even a clock which has one hand stopped and the other one moving intermittently, with a dial hand-painted with fourteen numbers including "umpteen" and "george" and not including "seven", is still right twice a lustrum.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Warning: do not attempt further metaphors until you have healed up from this one."\\

Pro-Life Legislation

That is, legislation which is in favor of real human lives, not hypothetical future ones.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Outlook dubious, but do it anyway."\\

Offshor Drilling -- Why Rush?

What's the hurry to drill for oil offshore?

We'll need that oil much more dearly in thirty years, and the extraction technology will be safer and more reliable than it is now.

So: No rush.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Consider your options carefully before acting."\\

Bush Derangement Syndrome

The term "Bush derangement Syndrome" is widely used online, but most people aren't using it correctly. As a public service, I'm reprinting here the definition of BDS from the DSM-IV (Derangement Syndromes Marketplace In Vienna):

Bush Derangement Syndrome: The inability to rationally assess the Presidency of George W. Bush.

Stage I: Belief that jointly impeaching Bush and Cheney would do the country more harm than leaving the administration in power (Equivalent to believing that the Holocaust was an elaborate hoax).

Stage II: Belief that someone other than Bush was the Worst. President. Ever. (Equivalent to believing that Bob Barker is stealing one's mail).


Stage III: Belief that Bush is an honorable and patriotic man who has made some mistakes (Equivalent to believing that drinking tea brewed in a lead-lined pot will cure lung cancer).

Stage III: Belief that tax cuts for the rich, abolishing the estate tax, privatizing Social Security, invading Iraq, detentions without trial, torture and unlimited Presidential power are the keys to peace, freedom and prosperity (Equivalent to believing that a boy has never wept nor dashed a thousand kim).

//The Magic eight-Ball says, "Gremlins eat red lemons."\\

Focus, People, Focus!

Focus on the Family is a toxic organization. Parents in non-heterosexual or non-nuclear families have fairly described it as "Your Family in Our Crosshairs".

But then there's the Focus on Family Health Act, which is different. Very, very different. As in, it's actually good for families.

I don't know about you, but I'm defintiely in favor of things that are good for families.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Thanks for clearing that up.\\

You Could Vote "No"

If you reall wanted to, you could vote "no" on the question, "Should Vice President Dick Cheney be impeached?"

Yes, you could.

If you wanted to.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Yes."\\

What You Mean, "They", White Man?

"They've been at war over there for hundreds of years". You hear that often enough, as an excuse for not taking a position on the present condition of the Middle East. Sometimes it's even "thousands of years".

Now it's certainly true that since its founding, Israel has seen five wars and sixty years of intermittent terrorism, and that before that Jewish immigrants to Palestine suffered (and engaged in) further decades of violence. And of course it's true that the modern borders of the Middle East were drawn in the aftermath of a vast and terrible war that had seen the destruction of the Ottoman Empire, in ways that seem almost calculated to cause further wars.

But is it really fair to describe the Middle East as some sort of cesspool of perpetual warfare? Has the region been at war for more years out of the past hundred, or five hundred, or five thousand, than, say, Germany, or Central America? I don't think history shows any such thing, and I think that to say so is simply to counsel despair.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "What is said a thousand times may still be false."\\

Support the Troops, Please, Mr. President

Mr. Bush, don't veto the military funding bill. Don't cut off our troops.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Actions have consequences."\\

Terrorists struck on American soil today, but the news media don't care much.

The terrorists were the wrong religion.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Do the right thing."\\

Banana Guard

Kathe sent me this.

The black dog of depression has been trying to walk between my feet lately, so I really needed to see something this funny.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "I'M SORRY, I CAN'T HEAR YOU! I HAVE A BANANA GUARD IN MY EAR!"\\

Summer Begins on April 28th

Impeachment Summer, that is.

Impeachment is off the table and rolling all over the floor, and starting to climb the walls.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Forecast calls for bright, clear weather."\\

Impeach Them, Already

Plain and simple: this is the worst administration in the nation's history, a disgrace upon a great nation.

It's time to start cleaning up the mess, starting with the removal of the President, the Vice President and all their various roots and branches.

I don't agree that it's time for revolution. It's merely time for congress to carry out the function it was designed to perform under conditions like these.

Investigate. Impeach. Convict.

//The magic eight-Ball says, "Do what is called for. Not an atom more nor a particle less."\\

Global Climate: I'll Save You the Trouble

There is no need for you to read anything about global climate change from inhabitants of the Conservaverse. Here is a summary of their writings over the next thirty years:

1) It's all a hoax. The climate isn't changing.

2) The climate is changing, but...
2a) The changes are all beneficial.
2b) It's caused by natural cycles or ocean currents or sunspots or something (anything) other than human activity.

3) The climate is changing, and it's a greater disaster than anything within human history, but...
3a) There's nothing we can do about it.
3b) Doing something about it would cost too much.
3c) Let the hungry people of the Third World sacrifice before comfortable Americans have to.

4) The climate is changing disastrously, and we could have greatly reduced the damage if we'd acted promptly and with a reasonable caution, but...
4a) It's too late to do anything about it now, so let's just party until the end.
4b) Someone else should have taken the initiative, not the wealthiest and most advanced nation on Earth, not the nation that puffed itself up as a shining city on a hill with a mission from God to reform the world.
4c) We were all for doing something about it, we could have prevented all of this, if those pesky Democrats hadn't gotten in our way.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "You already know how I feel".\\

A DIme's Worth of Difference

In 1971, Oregon became the first state to require a five cent deposit on all carbonated drink cans and bottles. The transformation of landfill use and roadside litter was an example for the nation.

Today, the deposit is still just a nickel, and people are drinking a whole lot of bottled water, bottled tea and non-carbonated energy drinks. Updating the law shouldn't be difficult, should it?

Except that the retailers of bottled drinks are fighting it with every dirty trick they've managed to figure out since they failed to stop the original bottle bill, and failed to stop it in a dozen other states.

If you're an Oregon resident, let the Legislature know that you're not buying the retailers' humbug campaign against the renewal of the Bottle Bill.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Yes*"\\
*Note: This answer has been used 47 times before.

Congress Can Still Act In Support of Our Troops

Don't let anybody tell you there's nothing Congress can do to respond to George W. Bush's act of contempt in vetoing the troops' bill.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "By 'support', I take it you mean 'Treat them like human beings instead of expendable video game characters'."\\

How Many Wolves

Until recently, there was a question as to how many of Idaho's wolves might be killed if their endangered status were revoked by Bush appointees at the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service.

Now we know for sure, because Idaho Governor C.L. Otter (or "Butch" as he would like to be known for poll-taking purposes) says he would organize the extermination of wolves down to the last fifty pairs.

If that doesn't square with your idea of wildlife protection, you might want to say so now.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "What is it with you people, anyway?"\\

Remember That Medicare Drug Benefit Thingy?

It's still a mess.

Just thought I'd mention that.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "You might want to mention it to someone, too."\\

Targeting Unethical Pharmacists

Wal-Mart has decided to require its pharmacists to behave ethically, even when filling prescriptions brought in by -ugh- women.

It would be good if Target did the same.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "This is a subject close to me, since I look so much like a pill."\\

I Changed My Mind

The President is highly competent and performing heroic service to the nation, and furthermore, he really was elected honestly. Both times.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "April Fool."\\

No, YOU'RE an Anti-Semite!

I see by Monday's Oregonian that Christopher Alden's production of Wagner's Flying Dutchman is playing in Portland. Apparently it depicts Captain Vandervecken and his crew as victims of the Holocaust, on the grounds that 1) the Flying Dutchman is the Wandering Jew and 2) Wagner was "a notorious anti-Semite and a darling of Hitler".

The matter of Wagner and anti-Semitism is something of a pet peeve of mine. The matterof Wagner and Hitler is an even bigger one. Reviewer James McQuillen writes that Alden's construction doesn't "hold up to very close scrutiny". That's putting it generously.

First of all, Wagner's anti-Semitism consisted largely of saying that if German Jews wanted to be accepted as Germans, it would help if they spoke German and wore German clothes. Considering that many of his contemporaries wouldn't have been satisfied even by their converting to Christianity, he was hardly the worst enemy German Jewry had in the 19th Century.

And let's not forget we are talking about the 19th Century, as in well before the rise of the Third Reich. Wagner never met Hitler, and there's no indication that the admiration would have been mutual. In fact, let's look at the Wagner operas that Hitler loved so much: did he ever understand them?

The Ring of the Nibelungs cycle can be summarized as, "A man renounces human feeling for the sake of power, and enjoys success for awhile, but in the end loses everything." Hitler did that.

The Flying Dutchman is the story of a man who damns himself by his own self-importance, disguised as obsessive devotion to duty. Hitler did that, too.

How does this sound for a production of the Flying Dutchman: Vandervecken is an unreconstructed Nazi who refuses to admit that the war is over, much less that he was on the wrong side. His U-boat surfaces at a modern-day coastal town, his threadbare uniform contrasting horrifically with the commercial fishermen and tourists. His crew, assembled from a variety of justly-lost causes, are equally out of place in their ski masks, Confederate flags and bomb-belts.

In order to be saved, Vandervecken must strip off the rags of his perverted "duty" and go to his bride as simply a man.

That's a Flying Dutchman I would like to see, and I wouldn't be surprised if Wagner would like it, too.

//The Magicv Eight-Ball says, "You're as much entitled to speak for Wagner as anyone else."\\

The Resemblance is Remarkable

Okay, I'm not going to be re-admitted to the nursing program at LBCC. That's just how it's going to be.

It's remarkable how much my current state resembles the feeling of having a long hank of my intestines torn out. Sometimes it doesn't hurt at all, until I move just wrong.

I'll get over it. The gauze packing will come out eventually.

That's life.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "You can tell for sure it's life, by the pain."\\

One More Parade

One More Parade
by Phil Ochs

Hup, two, three, four, marching down the street
Rollin’ of the drums and the tramping of the feet
General salutes and the mothers wave and weep
Here comes the big parade

Don’t be afraid, prices paid
One more parade

So young, so strong, so ready for the war
So willing to go and die upon a foreign shore
All march together, everybody looks the same
So there is no one you can blame

Don’t be ashamed, light the flame
One more parade

Listen for the sound and listen for the noise
Listen for the thunder of the marching boys
A few years ago their guns were only toys
Here comes the big parade

Don’t be afraid, prices paid
One more parade

So young, so strong, so ready for the war
So willing to go and die upon a foreign shore
All march together, everybody looks the same
So there is no one you can blame

Don’t be ashamed, light the flame One more parade

Medals on their coats and guns in their hands
Trained to kill as they’re trained to stand
Ten thousand ears need only one command
Here comes the big parade

Don’t be afraid, prices paid
Don’t be ashamed, wars a game
World’s in flames, so start the parade

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Yeah, sure. Why not?"\\

Testing, 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9....

The final in Nursing 102 was challenging, even if I did take it last year. Oh, well, I passed it. And the next day, Wednesday, came the "skills challenge".

Demonstrate all of the skills that were taught to me last year, in Nursing 101 and 102. All correctly. In a single block of time (just over four hours, as it turns out).

Well, it's over now. And in a few days, I'll find out whether everything I've done so far was worth the doing.

And no, please don't tell me "you did your best". This isn't a piano recital, for crying out loud.

Anyway, I'll know soon enough.

In a few days.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Look at the sky this evening."\\

Still True, Still a Good Idea, Still Needed

Still True: Violence against women is a particular problem, requiring particular attention.

Still True: Ann Coulter is beneath contempt.

Still a Good Idea: A bill calling for the removal of barriers to voting by qualified citizens.

What a concept.

Maybe this really is a new Congress.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Maybe."\\

Peace Through Peaceful Means

What a concept.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Couldn't hurt to try it."\\

Ding-Dong, the Witch Has Stubbed His Toe

Scooter Libby has been found guilty, guilty, guilty.

Not that severe a blow to the Bush gang, but at least it's something.

I'll tell you, though, if it had been Rove, my headline would have read, "The Witch Has Taken a Hard One in the Ding-Dong".

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Don't be coarse."\\

That's Enough, Ann Coulter!

We've been patient with you, and you have only pushed our limits harder.

Enough.

Go away.

We don't want to play any more.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Enough is enough."

Ethiopia is Close to My Heart

Not surprisingly, since three of my four children were born there.

Alas, Ethiopia is, in its own way, as frustrating and heartbreaking a country as my own beloved U.S.A. So much that is wrong, so much that could be made right if only people would work together to right it.

But there are bright moments.

Like the story of Abay Amassu

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Life goes on."\\

Moral Standard

S.B. 373, the Oregon Legislature's proposed Renewable Energy Standard Act of 2007, is a start, at least.

And let's face it, that other thing is called "non-renewable" for a reason. As in, it won't be there forever?

I think we should take a staunchly conservative approach to energy, by which of course I mean relying on renewable energy before anything else.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Prudence, indeed dictates...."\\

Still True, Still A Good Idea

Still True: Free choice does indeed save lives.

Still True

Wal-Mart is still able to surprise me with its sleaziness.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Don't be so surprised."\\

I Feel Good Today

Largely because I did fairly well on a test this morning.

Not spectacularly well, but better than the last one (which was still adequate). If I can keep this up, I should finish this term's audit with a respectable grade and be re-admitted to the nursing program.

So far, so good. So far, so good. Just keep on pluggin' away. Don't worry about what you could've done better last week, and for God's sake don't worry about how you're going to pass the NCLEX. Just stick to what you're doing right now.

Elsewhere in the news,

The Boxer-Sanders Global Warming Pollution Reduction Act of 2007 looks very promising. It also makes me feel good. We're supposed to be wary of "feel-good legislation", but I can tell you I'm ready for a change from the feel-bad 109th Congress.

Signing MoveOn's petition to Congress to urge them to remind President* Bush whose job it is to declare war made me feel good, too.

Finding out that the Administration's intelligence findings on Iran's nuclear program were (ahem) flawed didn't make me feel good, exactly, but at least it's getting some publicity before the war, this time.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Seek serenity and clarity."\\

Things People Send Me

Kathe's son Jake sent me this, about unusual houses: http://www.2spare.com/item_72903.aspx

Wes Clark sent me a link to a petition to forestall the invasion of Iran: http://www.stopiranwar.com/

Kathe sent me the secret key to the universe: http://www.timecube.com/


Universe Today sent me their regular weekly space exploration newsletter: http://www.universetoday.com

MoveCongress sent me an update, too: http://www.movecongress.org

The Campaign for Tobacco-Free Kids invited me to e-mail State Senator Frank Morse about kid tobacco freedom: http://tobaccofreekids.org

Kathe sent me a link to our favorite online comic strip, an episode based on my favorite quote from leonardo da Vinci: "Mathematics is the alphabet in which God has written the Universe."

I get all sorts of stuff in my e-mail. What's in yours?

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Outlook hopeful."\\

Fat Tuesday, Ash Wednesday...Lye Soap Thursday?

This year, I notice something I didn't on the occasion of previous Mardi Gras(es): people wearing strings of beads, even though they were going about their regular lives (work, school, library) without any other hint of festivity.

It reminded me of 14 February 2006, when I noticed lots of people wearing red, as though they'd gotten their Saint Valentines mixed up with their Saint Patricks.

Oh, well. I suppose it's a sign of a vigorous culture, that new practices and observances are appearing.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Remember what I said the other day about priorities?"\\

Woman-Free Dollars

Okay, Susan B. Anthony, you've had your dollar. Sacagawea, same for you.

Now get out of the way, because it's time for men to be honored.

The U.S. Treasury will shortly begin issuing one-dollar coins in new designs, five different per year, to commemorate the 39 (and counting) dead Presidents.

Whether he was President for 31 days or twelve years, whether he saved the nation or nearly destroyed it, each former President will be honored (sometimes for the tenth or twentieth time).

Women who contributed to the nation's history will have to move to the back of the queue.

We will be honoring James Garfield ahead of Clara Barton.

William Howard Taft ahead of Harriett Tubman.

Gerald Ford ahead of Rachel Carson.

Oh, yes, and Richard Nixon will finally get his portrait on a piece of U.S. currency.

Richard Milhous Nixon.

Some time around 2015, innocent children will be paying for cartons of milk with coins bearing the portrait of Richard For God's Sake Nixon.

Instead of Amelia Earhart.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Consider your priorities carefully."\\

We Can End This War

Congress can end it, and we can make them do it.

They can cut off funding for the war, leaving President* Bush with only three choices:

Withdraw the troops (in which case, good).

Stage a banana-republic defiance of Congressional authority (in which case, also good: a nice clearcut case for impeachment).

Order the troops to stand and fight, without food or fuel or ammunition (in which case, also good: an absolutely imperative case for impeachment).

We need to do this. The madness has got to end.

We can't just let it go until 2009. We need to do this now.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Unequivocally yes."\\

Clean Living

After reading Peni R. Griffin's comment on my post from the other day, I feel a little like the nephew in the old joke:

"Uncle, you smoke, you drink, you stay out all night -- it's not healthy!"

"Let me tell you, nephew, one day my doctor is going to tell me, 'You have to quit drinking, you have to quit smoking, you have to quit staying out all night, or you're going to die,' and then I'll quit smoking and drinking and staying out all night, and live to be an old man. But you? What will you say when your doctor says to quit smoking and drinking and staying up late, or else you'll die?"

"Well, I'll say that I've never smoked, never drank, and I'm always in bed by ten."

"Yes, and your doctor will say, 'In that case, there's nothing I can do for you'."

Peni said to eat fruit instead of refined sugar (and no artificial sweeteners, which only increase the appetite for carbohydrates), take the stairs instead of the elevator, bicycle and walk instead of driving.

Darn, I already do all of those.

I love fruit. I make sandwiches that are two slices of sandwich meat and six leaves of lettuce, and I don't like mayonnaise.

I used to drink soda pop, lots of it. And never diet, because artifical sweeteners all taste like poison to me. These days, I drink coffee. Lots of it. With sugar and milk.

Oops. Double darn, there goes the coffee.

Instead, I'm drinking cold black tea, unsweetened. It's bland and slightly bitter, but I find I like that better than just water. And it definitely doesn't have any refined sugar in it.

Oh, well. Kathe reminds me that the difference between slowly growing fatter and slowly growing leaner is only a few hundred calories a day. Maybe I can do this.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Signs point to yes."\\

Eggplant

I did an eggplant on my way to school today. Biking toward the bridge out of Corvallis, I skidded on a patch of frost and landed on my egg.

I don't know how much my helmet did for my brain, but it did wonders for my forehead, seeing as how I didn't need to wipe it off my chest after I limped home.

And I did limp home, rather than get back on my bike and stay the course. I also landed on my left knee and both hands.

Nope, I took the bus. And I didn't load my bike on the bus's rack so I could ride back, either.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Wimp [Just kidding.]"\\

Riding Halfway

Recognizing that my belly isn't going to get any smaller on its own, I've resolved to bike to school. So far I'm averaging an hour and twenty minutes, which isn't dazzling by any measure, but it gets me there.

To reduce the amount of time I spend biking, I'm riding the bus back to town in the afternoon. I now know how to work the pull-down bike rack, and am no longer a source of amusement to my fellow commuters.

I'd like to lose about thirty pounds. Or so I suppose -- I haven't actually weighed myself recently. The prospect is simply too depressing. Oh, well, I'm doing something about it, anyway. Now let's see if I'm doing anything effectively.

Unfortunately, the most noticable effect so far has been little twinges that hint at the return of my carpal tunnel syndrome, which hasn't bothered me in years.

Well, we'll see.

The only route to LBCC is, alas, alongside Highway 34. Not the safest route, especially where the road narrows going over the ominously named Owl Creek Bridge. But, so far, so good.

I really must take a broom with me sometime, to clear the rocks and brush trimmings from the margins of that bridge, since the rough terrain makes it harder to stay out from under the trucks going by.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "This is the post that will get all the comments after John gets squished."\\

[John says: Eight-Ball, you do know that you have the reputation of having the gift of prophecy, don't you?]

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "I'm not superstitious, myself."\\

So Far, Not So Good

Well, the first exam of my audit of Nursing 102 didn't go as well as I'd hoped. My initial score was 80 out of a possible 100, with 75 as the minimum passing grade. I'd been trying for at least 90. The next one.

Much worse news waited for me at home, but that's personal. Those of you who know me that well have probably already gotten an e-mail. Anyway, not the best day of the year.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Never think you've seen the worst of the year until it's over."\\

John McCain

It's strange how people can acquire a reputation, good or ill, that is entirely unmerited.

Not just a little bit of distortion, but the kind of reputation where millions of people believe the exact opposite of the truth on a significant matter.

Like Jimmy Carter, whose Presidency foundered on his obstinate insistence on sticking to his set policy (the Shah, the hostage crisis, the Olympics), being dismissed as "indecisive".

Or Ronald Reagan, whose cut-and-run behavior in Beirut convinced Osama bin Laden that Americans were all cowards, being remembered as a tough guy.

Or John McCain acquiring (not by accident, mind) a reputation as a maverick, an independent thinker, unafraid to stand up to orthodoxy, when he's really a complete and utter tool.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Skim milk masquerades as cream."\\

Advertising Makes it Happen

Lately on otr.net I've been alternating episodes of Jack Benny with The Inner Sanctum.

[So tell me: what sort of church is it where its Inner Sanctum doubles as a broadcast studio? I guess I can see it, but it does seem a bit weird.]

Last night I experienced something that is not very common in my experience: a hankering for some gelatin. I had located a couple of packages of Safeway generic, wondering when we'd bought gelatin at Safeway (and how we'd wound up with some sugar-free, which nobody at this house would want), when it occurred to me that I'd been influenced by Don Wilson's corny plugs for Jell-O on the Jack Benny show.

Seventy-year-old commercials, still working their spell.

Well, what the heck. The rest of the show is still good, so why shouldn't the commercials be, too?

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "There is nothing to be concerned about. return to your regular activities."\\

She's In

And Hillary Clinton is not intending her run for President as a symbolic act, a protest or a bid for the Vice Presidential nomination. She actually plans to win.

She probably won't do any worse than her husband, which is to say she'd be better than Bush, Bush, Reagan or Nixon.

And speaking of Nixon: let's get over this "unelectable" business. After Nixon, ity should have been obvious that there's no such thing as unelectable.

That said, the prospect of another President Clinton reminds me of the "history lesson" in Harlan Ellison's "A Boy And His Dog", in which the succession of Presidents went "Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, Ford, Kennedy, Kennedy, Kennedy...." I don't think a list that runs "Bush, Clinton, Bush, Clinton..." is any improvement. Especially since there are more Bushes than there are Clintons.

Obama will do, I reckon. I know I'd enjoy seeing him mop up the floor with Tom Tancredo.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Life goes on."\\

Worst Head of State Ever

Since last November's election, I've noticed more people calling Bush the "Worst. President. Ever." (One-word sentences for emphasis in original).

I can't imagine what took them so long. As far as I'm concerned, he was W.P.E. at least from the moment the troops entered Iraq, if not from when the budget surplus disappeared. These days, he's in the running for Worst Head of State in Recorded History.

So, I'm compiling a Top Ten List, and I'd like to ask all of you reading this to contribute. Who do you thing were the worst ever?

A lot of people would include leaders like Porfirio Diaz or James Buchanan who lost a great deal, maybe everything, but I'm trying to be fair about it. The song claims Louis XVI was "the worst since Louis the First", but it's hard to see how any executive could have done much to salvage the Ancien Regime. Louis XIV, on the other hand, too a prosperous country with a strong army and left it bankrupt and defeated in a series of wars that need not have been fought.

So, here's my first draft of a list:

1) Adolf Hitler. Any good he accomplished (the autobahnen, for instance) was swamped many times over by the harm he did to the world, and most especially to Germany. Millions dead, infrastructure destroyed, the country occupied by its ancient enemies, it's hard to see how he could have done worse by his people.

2) Caligula. If the Roman Empire had been any further past its peak when he came to power, he might have brought about the Fall of Rome all by himself.

3)Pol Pot. He killed 'em like nobody but Hitler and Stalin, and with so very little to show for it.

4) Artabaxas. Dude, the oracle said "If you invade Greece, a great empire will fall." Yes, it's ambiguous, but the threat is obvious, and you didn't have to take such a big chance.

5) Rafael Leonidas Trujillo. Eventually, even the U.S. government was unwilling to stand by the worst-ever dictator of first and worst of the classic banana republics.

6) Idi Amin Dada. When it comes to destroying your own country's infrastructure, expelling your entire professional class can't be beat.

7) Louis XIV. Besides losing all those wars, he also invented inflation. What a chump.

8) Josef Stalin. This was a hard call. His crimes were nearly as great as Hitler's, but on the other hand he accomplished a lot more that was positive, especially from the perspective of his own constituents. He defeated Hitler (let's face it, everyone else played a secondary role in that war), thereby saving civilization. He took the remnants of the Russian Empire and created a state that was capable of defeating Hitler, which was sort of like making Mexico capable of taking back California. Still, the price for his accomplishments was so terribly high. And most of what he built disintegrated in less than a generation after his death. So, he goes in the Top Ten.

9) Ivan the Terrible. Terrifying, but also just plain terrible.

10) George W. Bush. This is a tentative ranking, but I figure he belongs somewhere on the Top Ten. No, he's not "worse than Hitler".

//The magic Eight-Ball says, "Not yet, anyway."\\

School Tomorrow

I enrolled in the Linn-Benton Community College Nursing program in Fall of 2005, passed the Fall and Winter 2006 terms, failed the Spring 2006 term. Now, I'm going to audit the Winter 2007 term and, if I do well in it, will apply to re-enter the program for the Spring 2007 term.

So, with tuition support from my parents and a well-timed pep talk from Kathe, I'm plunging back in. Here goes.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Dare great things."\\

Mainstreet Moms and Others

Mainstreet Moms (aka the MMOB) sound like a promising bunch.

And they have friends:

20/20 Vision
American Friends Service Committee (AFSC)
American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee
Business Leaders for Sensible Priorities
Center for International Policy (CIP)
Conference of Major Superiors of Men
Council for a Livable World
Families USA
Feminist Majority
Fourth Freedom Forum
Friends of the Earth
Global Exchange
Greenpeace
Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR)
MMOB (Mainstreet Moms Organize or Bust)
MoveOn
NAACP
National Council of Churches
National Gay and Lesbian Task Force
National Organization for Women (NOW)
NETWORK A National Catholic Social Justice Lobby
Pax Christi USA
Peace Action
Physicians for Social Responsibility (PSR)
Psychologists for Social Responsibility
Rainbow/Push Coalition
Shalom Center
Sierra Club
Sojourners
Soulforce
The Tikkun Community
TrueMajority
Unitarian Universalist Association of Congregations
Unitarian Universalist Service Committee
United Church of Christ
United Methodist Church General Board of Church and Society
Us Foundation
USAction
War Resisters League
Veterans for Peace
Women's Action for New Directions (WAND)
Working Assets
Artists United to Win Without War
Musicians United to Win Without War

Maybe America is still too young to die.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Maybe".\\

Four Days, Plus Before Lunch on Friday

That's all one hundred hours lasts.

But the new, honestly-elected Congress could do a lot in one hundred hours.

Tell them they ought to: http://ga3.org/campaign/100Hours.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Couldn't hurt."\\

Walk For Peace, Wednesday and Thursday

Walk the halls of Congress, that is.

With Gold Star families, including Cindy Sheehan.

Sounds good to me. Especially now that veterans and their families no longer have to think of the Capitol as "enemy territory."

Wish I could be there.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "It would make you late for school, John."\\

Heavy Use of Cell Phones

Let's see: our daughter Michu flew into Portland from Dallas, Texas, to visit us. Staying with her sister Biftu at Biftu's Portland apartment, either one of both of them were to come to Corvallis, either before or after Christmas.

Finally, Michu came to Corvallis on Friday -- just after Kathe left to visit a friend for the weekend in Forest Grove, near Portland. I was running errands all afternoon, and arrived home just before I had to leave for work (night shift) to find Michu there, displeased that she would only see me for a few minutes, and even more distressed that she wouldn't see Kathe at all (Waldy and Tes, both living with us, hadn't heard that Kathe was going out of town, because neither Kathe nor I had seen them all day).

Yesterday, I spent a little more time with Michu and Tes, and then they took a bus to Portland together. There they will spend a couple of days with Biftu and at least some time with Kathe, and then Kathe will pick up Tes on her way out of town and bring him home to Corvallis.

And the cell phones? We've been using them a lot: mine, Kathe's, Michu's, calling one another with the latest updates.

We could have done pretty much everything we did over the last few days with ordinary stationary phones, but contacts which were immediate would have taken hours to make. All of us were spared a lot of anxiety thanks to being able to talk whenever we wished, wherever we were.

I could learn to love these little things.

TV Commercials Are Better Than Ever

These are mostly from a thread at Making Light. Others are ones I found myself, either by hunting around with half-remembered keywords or just stumbled across at YouTube.

There's some real creativity going into the things these days. Sometimes even for a [WARNING: Intense] worthwhile cause.

And there are also some real treasures from the old days out there.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Beauty is where you find it."\\

The Ford Solution

The recent death of former President Gerald Ford remind sme that I never did offer to the public my solution to the looming political crisis of George W. Bush's impeachment.

Obviously, Bush has committed high crimes and misdemeanors sufficient to be impeached and removed from office. Just as obviously, Vice President Cheney has been involved in modst of them, as well as offenses of his own. But impeaching both of them would make Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi President, and many would view this as simply a Democratic power grab.

We will pass over in silence the irony of Republicans accusing anyone of stealing the Presidency.

Seriously, though, there is an alternative scenario for replacing a corrupt and incompetent President and Vice President. Let us call it the Ford Solution:

1) Cheney resigns.

2) Bush nominates a new Vice President, who is approved by Congress. This needs to be a person who has not been a member of the Administration, nor an advisor to it, but who is of sufficient public stature as to be acceptable as President. This person should be a Republican, so that there be no accusations of Bush being removed for purely political reasons. It should be a person who is not seen as likely to run for another term as President, to avoid the appearance of seeking an unfair advantage for either party in the 2008 election.

3) Bush resigns, and the appointed Vice President becomes President. The new President might or might not pardon Bush and Cheney. We could argue for decades over whether that would be the right thing to do, but what's most important is that we get rid of Bush and his entire crew and replace them with someone who is minimally acceptable in the job.

Aside from persuading the pigheaded, reality-denying Bush crew to go along with this scheme, the hardest part of it would be finding an acceptable new President to hold the office until 2009. To my way of thinking, there is really only one person, flawed though he is, who is really auited to this role:

Former President George Herbert Walker Bush.

I never thought I would endorse the gun-running, drug-running, dogleg-crooked CIA-spook bastard for another day in the Oval Office, but let's face it: he's smarter and more honest than Junior, he can't run in 2008 even if he wanted to, he's a prominent Republican who has never been so much as consulted by Bush or his people...he's the best possible choice.

God help us.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "The best is often enemy of the good."\\

Forest Fires, Ocean Temperatures, and Kathe

Kathe sent me this:http://www.newsday.com/news/science/wire/sns-ap-wildfires-climate,0,4582282.story?coll=sns-ap-science-headlines


"This article seems to say that ocean temperatures drive fires, while the one in the GT seems to sy the opposite. I'm with Newsday; the oceans are a lot larger than the forests. But I admit, that's a superficial opinion."

On the other hand, the oceans are only a little bit cooler or warmer than the atmosphere, while a forest fire is a LOT warmer. Dunno.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Time will tell -- but are you sure you want it to?"\\

Contact Light, 2006

Contact Light, 2006 Year-End Edition, from John M. Burt and the Burt Family
960 SW Jefferson Avenue, Corvallis, Oregon 97333 USA (541) 753-6094 john_m_burt@hotmail.com // katheburt@hotmail.com
This is a Blackberry House publication


Note: The first words spoken from the Lunar surface, even before "The Eagle has landed", were "Contact light," meaning that a light in the cockpit indicated that the legs of the lander had touched down. This publication exists to maintain contact, and hopes to spread light.


Well, that was different. No two years are alike, of course, that's part of their charm. This one could have been more charming, though.

Last things first, the December windstorms that left literally millions without electricity across the Pacific Northwest did indeed take out our power, but only for a few hours. Kathe was visiting a friend in Portland that night, and their power was out for longer. but they were only inconvenienced, not harmed.

By the way: Also left without electricity for at least part of the time were: daughter Biftu (Asnakech) in Portland, daughter Sarah in Portland, son Jake and daughter-in-law Claire in Lakewood (Washington), brother David in Seattle, brother Tom in Corvallis, John's parents in Monroe (Oregon), aunt Anne and uncle Wes in Corvallis, cousins Mike and Jen in Corvallis, and a couple million other folks.

Some brittle ailanthus branches broke off, as they usually do, but none of our trees blew down. Altogether it was a minor incident., not worthy of mentioning in this letter, except that it happened so recently. As for the rest of the year....

John's grandfather died. He was John's mother's father (John’s father's parents died a long time ago), 92 years old and married 73 years to Grandma. It wasn't unexpected, it wasn't untimely, and there isn't a lot to regret at the end of a life like his. On the other hand . . . Grandpa died.

Waldy turned 18 this year, and has worked at his first job. Interestingly, it's the same as John's first job: washing dishes at Darrell's Fine Food on North 9th Street. Same location, too. Late update: he has just traded up to washing dishes at a classier place.

After years of ill-health, Tesfaye has had a major improvement in his condition and we have every reason to expect that he will do well in the future.

Biftu continues to live and work in Portland. Michu (aka Mestowet) continues to live and work in Dallas, Texas. We’re looking forward to seeing them both this Christmas.


John flunked out of nursing school but is taking steps to get back in the program and/or back on the horse. Unfortunately, the nursing school program is fairly inflexible: Nursing 101 in Fall term, Nursing 102 in Winter, Nursing 103 in Spring, so he has to wait until Spring term of 2007 to re-take Nursing 103. On the advice of the faculty, he'll audit Nursing 102 to help get up to speed, and then make his plea to be allowed to take Nursing 103 for credit. In the immortal words of Bullwinkle J. Moose, "This time for sure!"

When the kids were little, we referred to prostheses as "robot" parts, as in, "he has no arm, so the doctor gave him a robot arm." They were greatly amused when I referred to Kathe's numerous gold crowns and gold-framed tooth as "robot teeth". A few years ago she acquired new hip joints which set off metal detectors, and in November she added "robot eyes" when her lenses, impaired by cataracts and light-refracting wrinkles, were replaced. She'll still need glasses, but her new lenses are a definite improvement over the old ones. When they put the new lens in her left eye, she was greatly impressed by how much more light it let in, but she was accustomed to it by the time she'd recovered enough for surgery on the right. As of this writing, she still doesn't have a new eyeglass prescription because her eyes have not yet completely healed and thus her vision is still improving slowly, but she can already see well enough, using an old pair of glasses, to read and drive and otherwise carry out what nurses call "the ADLs" (Activities of Daily Life).

And speaking of hip joints, John's father didn't have a very good time with his broken hip, but he continues to recover, literally one step at a time.

On the bright side, also seen recently at John's parents' place is a new baby. John's cousin Mike and his wife Jen, who have lived in an apartment in the barn off and on, are by all reports really enjoying parenthood, as well they should.

Last year, much of the roof was replaced with a new set of shingles that ought to last for decades. This summer, much of what remained was replaced. Once again, Kathe's son Jake did most of the work. It's such a pleasure and a comfort to hear the rain falling and not having to worry (much) about where it might be leaking.

I reckon those are the highlights of the year. For more details, try John's blog: http://john_m_burt.blogspot.com


//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "God bless us all -- no exceptions."\\

The Corporal's Boots

They're empty.

Thousands of empty boots.

More every day.

Anyone you know?

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Speak up."\\

No Rats Left

A family member left his rats with us, and they lived for years in a cage on our coffee table. It was a nice enough home, I hope, with enough room for four rats, and they had one another for company, which is good for rats. And eventually the began to die of old age.

First Ratzilla,
then Bob,
then Chewbacca (who was going to get a post called "One Rat Left", but I didn't want to write such a post on the same day that my grandfather died),
and last of all, Horatio (who was named on account of a truly bizarre botched quote, when his previous owner saw him diving into a yogurt tub and cried, "Once more into the yogurt, Horatio!").

So, now we don't have any rats, and the cage is empty, sitting in a back corner until we decide what to do with it (probably store it in anticipation of more rats one of these days).

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Rats live on no evil star."\\

This is Inconveniently True

"The new Congress must take real action to solve the climate crisis immediately."

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "The veracity of a statement does not depend on its being convenient."\\

Save the Internet!

Or anyway, save Net Neutrality.

Or anyway, watch this cute video, "Independence Day", on YouTube.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "[message delayed because Eight-Ball didn't pay for premium delivery]"\\

Most communicable diseases can be prevented, but the resources to do this aren't available in much of the world. UNICEF does what it can, but they could do more if the U.S. Congress would be good enough to fulfill its obligations to the organization. Petition here for the new Congress to show more gumption than the last one.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "He who saves his neighbor from a communicable disease saves himself. That's why they're called 'communicable', duh."\\

No Trees Fell On Us

during last night's storm, although one big tree did fall on the utility wires next door. Power was out in most of Corvallis for several hours, but it did come back eventually. I was going to make this post last night, actually, but Internet access and cable TV were not restored as quickly as power.

I use incense in my massage prtactice, and some people bring their own incense, usually in the form of scented candles. So, that was what we used for light last night. Tesfaye liked the Christmassy smell his room acquired from a big red potted candle, so he's keeping it for now.

The most unusual part of the evening, actually, for me personally, was that I went to bed at eleven. I haven't been to bed so early in years. But not only did I find myself going splah onto the bed at 2300 hours, but I didn't wake up until a full eight hours had passed. Amazing.

Seriously, I used to absolutely have to have six hours or I was no use the next day. And then one day I noticed that I was routinely getting only three or four. Working night shifts, I sometimes didn't bother trying to get any sleep during the day. Only last night it was eight. Guess a deficit finally caught up with me. Or maybe it was those scented candles.

The only casualty was the rat Horatio, and I doubt if that had anything to do with the storm. He was very old.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Where were you when the lights went out?"\\

Dear Rabbi Bogomilsky

Instead of asking for a menorah to "balance" the Christmas trees displayed at Sea-Tac Airport, why not do what the Christians did centuries ago: embrace the Yule tree.

After all, the tree is pure Nordic paganism, without the slightest Christian element except when Christian families go out of their way to make it so.

The "Hanukkah bush" doesn't have to be just a dumb joke: make the Yule tree a Jewish symbol.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Why the Sheol not?"\\

The Iraq War Memorial

Here's an idea: put it on the White House Lawn

It's close to my own idea, which is that the Iraq War Memorial should be a bullet-pocked wall in the Rose Garden, and the wooden post erected in front of it.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "John, I thought you were against capital punishment."\\

Sign the Save Darfur Petition

It's not much, but it's more than you were going to do about it today otherwise:

http://action.savedarfur.org/campaign.jsp?campaign_KEY=6099

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Every little bit...is more than none."\\

No More Crooked Florida Elections

Haven't we had enough of those?

http://www.informationclearinghouse.info/article15883.htm

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "I know I have."\\

My Grandfather Died

My mother sent me this e-mail this morning:

Good Morning,

Charles Alfred Cook passed into God's glory about 5:30 this morning.

Love to all,

George & Dorothy Burt

Charles Alfred Cook, born 26 Nov 1914 in Madison, Lake Co., SD. He
was the son of 2. Floyd Alfred
Cook and 3. Ada Elsie Swarts.
He married (1) Dessie Zoe Allen 20 May 1933 in Bakersfield, Kern Co.,
CA. She was born 18 Mar
1918 in Grey, Beaver Co., OK. She was the daughter of Jessiman
Alonzo Allen and Eva Grace Miller.
------------------------------

OBITUARY FORM INFORMATION

NAME: Charles Alfred Cook AGE: 92 DATE OF DEATH: December 7,
2006

RESIDENCE: Vista, CA since ____ [1980's?]

DATE OF BIRTH: 26 Nov 1914 PLACE: Madison, SD

PARENTS NAMES: Floyd and Ada [Swarts] Cook

CAUSE OF DEATH: Cancer

NO SERVICE PLANNED

MEMORIAL CONTRIBUTIONS to: ___________

FUNERAL HOME:

FAMILY CONTACT: Pat Varner 760-521-8054

CAREER: shipyard worker in WWII, Carpenter/builder

MILITARY: none

HE MARRIED DESSIE ZOE ALLEN ON 20 May 1933 in Bakersfield, CA

MARRIED: 73 years

SURVIVORS:

wife, Zoe Cook

CHILDREN:

Charlene Guzman of Daly City, CA

Pat Varner of Vista, CA

Dorothy Burt of Monroe, OR

Kate Henderson of Hurricane, UT

Sandra Weitzel of Durham, NC

Charles Alfred Cook Jr. of Yreka, CA

Alec Cook of El Cajon, CA

SIBLINGS:

David Cook of Riverside, CA

Marilee Ottemann of Whittier, CA

Don Cook of Huntington Beach, CA

NO. of Grandchildren: 16
NO of gt-grandchildren: 24
NO of gt-gt-grandchildren: 1

ADDITIONAL: Outstanding man who met every challenge life gave him
with gentle competence and love.

Sectarian Religious Violence in American Cities -- Always at Low Prices

Please write Wal-Mart CEO Lee Scott a little Christmas note to say that you don't think it's a good idea for Wal-Mart to be selling the video game "Left Behind: Eternal Forces" to our kids.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "You do know that heathen fortune-telling devices like me will be first against the wall when the Tribulation Force marches into town, don't you?"\\

The Things People Send Me, I Swear....

http://www.ajg41.clara.co.uk/mirrors/index.html

Do You Want The Terrorists to Win?

Your 'Do You Want the Terrorists to Win' Score: 100%

You are a terrorist-loving, Bush-bashing, "blame America first"-crowd traitor. You are in league with evil-doers who hate our freedoms. By all counts you are a liberal, and as such cleary desire the terrorists to succeed and impose their harsh theocratic restrictions on us all. You are fit to be hung for treason! Luckily George Bush is tapping your internet connection and is now aware of your thought-crime. Have a nice day.... in Guantanamo!

Do You Want the Terrorists to Win?
Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "My results are more reliable."\\

Two Rats Left

Bob died the other day. Ratzilla died a couple of weeks ago, and I could have sworn I wrote a post about him, but I don't find one on my blog. Now only Chewbacca and Horatio are left in the cage on the living room coffee table.

I had to ask Kathe for those names. I couldn't remember them, although at least I recognize them and can now remember which is Chewie and which Horatio. That's embarrassing, but really none of us love these rats the way we did previous generations of rats.

We didn't seek them out -- they were dumped on us by Kathe's son Justin when he broke up with his girlfriend and soon after stopped speaking to us (we still don't know what that's about, becuase he won't tell us) -- and we've been busy a lot of the time, but really I don't know why we never seemed to enjoy the company of these rats the way we did with others in the past.

Maybe it's the same thing that seems to have permanently drained our ability to plan and prepare more than the most basic meals. Dunno.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "You will know when you care enough to go find out."\\

Things People E-Mail to Me

An art car festival:


http://www.artcarfest.com/vehicles/index.html

The Rapture Index:

http://www.raptureready.com/rap2.html


What an ant colony's nest looks like:

http://www.bioone.org/perlserv/?request=display-figures&name=i1536-2442-4-21-1-f01

John Baez's Crackpot Index

Jake sent this to me:

A simple method for rating potentially revolutionary
contributions to physics:

1. A -5 point starting credit.

2. 1 point for every statement that is widely agreed on to be false.

3. 2 points for every statement that is clearly vacuous.

4. 3 points for every statement that is logically inconsistent.

5. 5 points for each such statement that is adhered to despite
careful correction.

6. 5 points for using a thought experiment that contradicts the
results of a widely accepted real experiment.

7. 5 points for each word in all capital letters (except for those
with defective keyboards).

8. 5 points for each mention of "Einstien", "Hawkins" or "Feynmann".

9. 10 points for each claim that quantum mechanics is fundamentally
misguided (without good evidence).

10. 10 points for pointing out that you have gone to school, as if
this were evidence of sanity.

11. 10 points for beginning the description of your theory by saying
how long you have been working on it.

12. 10 points for mailing your theory to someone you don't know
personally and asking them not to tell anyone else about it, for
fear that your ideas will be stolen.

13. 10 points for offering prize money to anyone who proves and/or
finds any flaws in your theory.

14. 10 points for each new term you invent and use without properly
defining it.

15. 10 points for each statement along the lines of "I'm not good at
math, but my theory is conceptually right, so all I need is for
someone to express it in terms of equations".

16. 10 points for arguing that a current well-established theory is
"only a theory", as if this were somehow a point against it.

17. 10 points for arguing that while a current well-established theory
predicts phenomena correctly, it doesn't explain "why" they occur,
or fails to provide a "mechanism".

18. 10 points for each favorable comparison of yourself to Einstein,
or claim that special or general relativity are fundamentally
misguided (without good evidence).

19. 10 points for claiming that your work is on the cutting edge of a
"paradigm shift".

20. 20 points for emailing me and complaining about the crackpot
index. (E.g., saying that it "suppresses original thinkers" or
saying that I misspelled "Einstein" in item 8.)

21. 20 points for suggesting that you deserve a Nobel prize.

22. 20 points for each favorable comparison of yourself to Newton or
claim that classical mechanics is fundamentally misguided (without
good evidence).

23. 20 points for every use of science fiction works or myths as if
they were fact.

24. 20 points for defending yourself by bringing up (real or imagined)
ridicule accorded to your past theories.

25. 20 points for naming something after yourself. (E.g., talking
about the "The Evans Field Equation" when your name happens to be
Evans.)

26. 20 points for talking about how great your theory is, but never
actually explaining it.

27. 20 points for each use of the phrase "hidebound reactionary".

28. 20 points for each use of the phrase "self-appointed defender of
the orthodoxy".

29. 30 points for suggesting that a famous figure secretly disbelieved
in a theory which he or she publicly supported. (E.g., that
Feynman was a closet opponent of special relativity, as deduced by
reading between the lines in his freshman physics textbooks.)

30. 30 points for suggesting that Einstein, in his later years, was
groping his way towards the ideas you now advocate.

31. 30 points for claiming that your theories were developed by an
extraterrestrial civilization (without good evidence).

32. 30 points for allusions to a delay in your work while you spent
time in an asylum, or references to the psychiatrist who tried to
talk you out of your theory.

33. 40 points for comparing those who argue against your ideas to
Nazis, stormtroopers, or brownshirts.

34. 40 points for claiming that the "scientific establishment" is
engaged in a "conspiracy" to prevent your work from gaining its
well-deserved fame, or suchlike.

35. 40 points for comparing yourself to Galileo, suggesting that a
modern-day Inquisition is hard at work on your case, and so on.

36. 40 points for claiming that when your theory is finally
appreciated, present-day science will be seen for the sham it
truly is. (30 more points for fantasizing about show trials in
which scientists who mocked your theories will be forced to recant.)

37. 50 points for claiming you have a revolutionary theory but giving
no concrete testable predictions.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Sorry, answer suppressed by the scientific establishment."\\

A Worse Appointment Than Rumsfeld's

Given the Bush Administration's track record when it comes to appointing people to office, what kind of person would you expect Bush to put in charge of Federal family planning programs?

A) Someone who hasn't worked in family planning since before the birth control pill was introduced.

B) Someone who has never worked in family planning.

C) Someone who is actively hostile to birth control, espouses weird crackpot notions about reproductive health and says that distributing birth control supplies (what he's now in charge of) is "demaning to women".

You guessed it, Eric Keroak is a "C" student! Now we can look forward to his doing a heckuva job on the nation's genitalia.

Or we could try to prevent his taking the job.

You never know. After all, that election thing seems to have helped some.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Please, I'm not that kind of ball."\\

Kathe's Other Eye

Kathe sent me this:

So, this morning I had the second eye operated on. 1.5 hours prepping for operation, .5 hours recovering, 5 minutes actual duration of operation. I'd been told I could get a video of the operation but I forgot to bring a video tape, so I looked it up on youtube. Here's the link -- no, wait a minute, none of you actually want to watch, right? One commenter said "I'm gonna have my eyes hacked out by diseased parrots, so I'll never have to do this." But believe me, it's preferable to having the operation performed by sick birds. For one thing, they'd probably take longer.

So anyway, here's how it's done: The bad old lens is rendered into bits by ultrasound (the machine goes grungitta, grungitta) and then the bits are vaccuumed out. Then the new lens is put into the empty place thus generated. I have the impression that the lens orients itself over a couple of hours (ie, the surgeon doesn't have to). Eye is patched for six hours, and a couple more if double vision is present after six. Drops are put into the eye on an increasingly complicated schedule for -- um, weeks anyway -- or "until they're gone." Oh btw, the incision is described as "self-sealing" and today the surgeon actually said "The incision is sealing itself just fine."

During the operation, the eye to be operated on is paralized and entirely put to sleep, can't close lid, can't see anything. The other eye is under a drape. The body, as a whole, is so "relaxed" that movement is not possible, or at any rate, would be very difficult. The mouth is entirely able to ask questions. The "relaxing" substance is said to induce some amnesia, but I don't believe I have forgotten any part of it. I did forget that I had had the IV removed, when I was in the recovery room, but I think that's because my hand (where it had been inserted) felt pretty much the same after it was removed.

My previously operated eye is doing fine, vision improved at a decreasing rate for about the first week. Operated eye lets in a lot more light. I was dazzled at first, but I seem to be getting used to it. Oh, and speaking of dazzled, the glare from the *very* powerful dilation of the iris which lasts a couple of days, prevents one from really appreciating the improvement at first.

I hope you're all actually interested in all this. I have known several people who have had this surgery, but all they ever said was, "yes, I can see much better now."

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Seeing is believing."\\

I Know a Hero

Not very well, but I have taken my family to his restaurant a time or two.

Alem Gebrehiwot suspected Mulu Derbew was being viciously exploited by her employers, even when she doubted it could be so. He pursued the case and won her a visa to stay in the U.S.

Thank you, Alem. Thank you very much.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Djegna."\\

Housing

I think every NBC station should carry Linda Ellerbee's special report "Building on Faith: Making Poverty Housing History".

Don't you think your local affiliate should run it also?

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "I wonder whatever became of my box?"\\

Robot Eyes

When the kids were little, we referred to prostheses as "robot" parts, as in, "he has no arm, so the doctor gave him a robot arm." They were greatly amused when I referred to Kathe's numerous gold crowns and gold-framed tooth as "robot teeth". Since then she has acquired artificial hips as well, and as of Tuesday morning we can add the lens of her right eye to the list (the old one had cataracts, and light-refracting wrinkles). When she's recovered, they'll do the other eye.

She's still seeing double, so the extent of the improvement isn't yet known, but already she's noticed the increased brightness of the image in her right eye. Stands to reason, since she's had the window washers in. Still, so far all appears to be well.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "The eye is a window at the other end from the sole."\\

Darn Those Democrats!

Republicans kept warning us that voting for Democrats would lead to inflation, and sure enopugh, they were right.

Just look at how the price of gasoline has moved over the last three weeks, and how the momentum sudenly reversed the moment the election was over.

Darn Democrats....

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Sarcasm, like schadenfreude, should be indulged in with moderation."\\

Snowflakes

The Downtown Corvallis Association or whoever it is has replaced the light-up toy soldiers and wrapped gifts they used to hang from lampposts this time of year with big white snowflakes.

They're pretty enough, in a slick, sterile sort of way. Which is not always a bad thing: there is a place for sterile beauty in the world, just as there is for sterile people (some of the nicest people I know never had any children).

They remind me of the ads I used to see in the Wards catalog for a complete set of blue ornaments and blue lights to hang on your flocked artificial Christmas tree. Those were nice, too, in their own way, and I actually did admire them.

I just never wanted to have such a thing in my own living room.

I wonder what they did with the toy soldiers, though?

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "To know the fate of a superfluous soldier, ask Tommy Atkins."\\

What's My Accent?

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Midland "You have a Midland accent" is just another way of saying "you don't have an accent." You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio.
The Inland North
The Northeast
Philadelphia
Boston
The West
The South
North Central
What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Ye're oot o'yer minds!"\\

First Things First

Before anything else, we need to make sure that we've seen the last of electoral fraud of the Blackwell / Harris / Diebold school.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Enough is bloody well enough".\\

Save Democracy, Make $250,000

An incentive for the Democrats, and one for the Republicans, what could be more fair?

Just provide evidence of electoral fraud.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Will they provide witnesses with protection, too?"\\

The Return of the Unitarian Jihad

I can't imagine how this happened, but for some reason one Shannon, otherwise known as Sister Shotgun of Love and Mercy, posted a comment on my post from April of last year about the Unitarian Jihad.

Heh. I must remember to resume using my Jihadi name, "Brother Legging Chain of Patience".

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Just call me Ball of the Spikes of Wisdom."\\

Right to Vote

If you are a U.S. citizen, either naturalized or native, and have not been explicitly deprived of the right to vote as a consequence of a criminal conviction, you are entitled to vote on Tuesday.

Even if you have failed to register, you can demand a provisional ballot and register later.

You also have a right to demand proof that your vote has been counted.

If you have any difficulty in exercising your right to vote, call the Lawyer's Committee for Civil Rights Under Laws Election Protection Hotline at 1-866-OUR-VOTE (1-866-687-8683).

//;The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Inanimate objects aren't eligible to vote -- what's your excuse?"\\

Don't Use Improper Language

Here's a radical idea: What if the news media, when discussing medical matters, used normal medical terminology, rather than quack jargon invented by political hacks?

Maybe you'd like to suggest this idea to the media?

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Choose your words wisely, since you may have to eat them."\\

Nullius in Verba

1) The check is in the mail.

2) I love you.

3) I'm from the government, and I'm here to help you.

4) I'm from the Republican Party, and I'm here to improve the efficiency and effectiveness of your government.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Nil desperandum."\\

Barbara Cubin, What A Class Act

After a debate which, incredibly enough, included Libertarian candidate Thomas Rankin, Representative Barbara Cubin (R-WY) was heard to say to Rankin (a wheelchair user), "If you weren't sitting in that chair, I'd slap you across the face".

The worst part about this is that she doubtless thought that to say she was refraining from assaulting him because of his physical limitations made her seem more classy, not less.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "'If you were the Democratic candidate, I'd actually care what you said.'"\\

A Minor Disaster

It really was only a minor disaster, but only if you keep in mind that I'm not using the word "disaster" for comic effect.

Someone flushed the upstairs toilet and walked away from it, not bothering to make sure that it wasn't stopped up or running through.

Disastrously, it was. Both.

Water poured out onto the bathroom floor. Spread into the hallway. Would have headed down the long upstairs hall except that there was a doorjamb in the way. Ditto for the doorway into Tes' room. It pooled up nice and deep, and then it started leaking down into the pantry.

Now there are newspapers on the floor upstairs, and down. The kitchen is full of stuff pulled out of the pantry to dry. Some things will have to be carefully cleaned, others will have to be thrown out. A lot of stuff is going to have to be put somewhere else, because the cardboard boxes it was stored in are soggy and delaminating.

Oh, well. Could be worse. I have this sudden image of George W. Bush yanking the plunger out of my hand shrieking "Do you want the toilet to win? Stay the course!"

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "When you get a chance, could you soak a sponge in bleach water and wipe me off?"\\

Hoo Boy

Well, that was fun.

These days, a normal weekend is a fairly busy time for me: All 40 hours of my caregiver job are squeezed into three 12-hour night shifts and four hours on Monday afternoon.

This week, I was on the go from 7:00AM Friday until 9:00 AM Tuesday, a total of 72 hours.

Ouch.

Oh, well. Even divided between two weeks, it still means a whole bunch of overtime.

And it was all necessary. As I often say, there is a great satisfaction in knowing that you're doing a job that absolutely has to be done.

But I'm glad it's over.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "Touch wood."\\

I'm Tired of Oregon Ballot Measure 43*

*For which, I note, I am no longer Google's number one link. Ah, fleeting fame.

Of course, I'm tired of just about everything, after working 60 hours this weekend, doing emergency fill-ins in my home-caregiver job. But hey, they were nice people, and they needed somebody, and as I've said many times before, there's a profound satisfaction in knowing that you're doing a job that absolutely has to be done.

I wish I was getting more massage business, though.

And I wish the election would be over.

It's over for me already -- I voted on Saturday at the kitchen table, in the new Oregon ritual of democracy. My ballot and Kathe's came in the mail, though Tes and Waldy's didn't. If they don't come in today's mail, I'll need to go down to the Courthouse and try to sort it out.

That reminds me: somebody said the other day that she strongly disapproved of voting by mail, and I didn't have time to ask her why. I'll be seeing her later today, and I must remember to bring the subject up again.

Anyway, about Ballot Measure 43: I was strongly impressed by an article in yesterday's Oregonian. The content is well summed up by two of the subheads: "I'm sorry there wasn't a law in place that forced me to tell my parents" and "It was not having an abortion that changed my position. It was being beaten for it."

Here we have one woman still trying to push off responsibility for her decisions onto Daddy (Big Daddy Oregon, in this case), and one who lays out in the starkest possible terms the consequences of indulging our moral vanity by putting the poisoned Band-Aid of Measure 43 over the festering wound of our dysfunctional culture.

//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "I was going to call that a grotesque metaphor, but really it's more rococo."\\