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Spaceship Visits Mount Shasta

What do those ET's want with our Mount Shasta?

What do those ET's want with our mountain?

What a monster!  My wide-angle lens just couldn’t get wide enough.

This lenticular cloud blew in with last night’s sunset, folks—the biggest one in some time.  If it was a spaceship, we’re all in trouble.

Technically speaking, weather people call these clouds altocumulus standing lenticularis or ACSL.  I can’t figure out why the weather-namers mix an English word with two Latin ones.

Moving on.  Wave clouds form when the wind hits a topographic feature, such as a mountain, and get deflected up and over the peak, thereby creating a gravity wave downwind of the obstruction, i.e. mountain.  The clouds only materialize when sufficient moisture is in the air, but the wave pattern in the atmosphere may still be there.

That’s why you don’t see airplane pilots (unless they’re gliders) buzzing around tall topographic features like mountains.  The downdraft could suck them under.  Here’s the thing, folks, lenticular clouds may look like they’re standing still, but they ain’t.  These clouds are constantly forming in the updraft and dissipating in the downdraft and sometimes contain winds of 50 knots or more.

So let this be a lesson to you. Don’t fly your motorized vehicle near a mountain. If you’re a glider pilot, though, be my guest.

The same combination of winds and updrafts that allows the cloud to form also provides a rapid lift and a long flight in a glider.  Glider pilots spend long hours trying to catch the wave or be the wave.

Heck of a Job, Johnny

~moon rising before sun~Mount Shasta

~moon rising before sun~Mount Shasta

When I got up this morning (still riled up about last night’s debate) the sky was pretty dark, but there was this incandescent spotlight peeping over the southern rim of Mount Shasta.  Within seconds the crescent moon, its dark side back-lit by the sun, rose up to complete roundness, complete with a bright white sliver.

This was the first time I had ever seen such a thing, so I made a lot of noise so Chris would have to wake up and get a good picture of the event for posterity’s sake.  The fate of the world aside, folks, sometimes it’s just good to be alive.

Back to politics.  Last night, Chris and I watched the presidential debate.  I can’t believe it, but we actually sat through the whole thing twice, the second time on CNN:  There were these six score cards along the sides, and three lines down at the bottom supposedly graphing the democrat, republican and independent reactions.

Following these constantly changing lines during a debate seemed stupid, though.  It was more interesting to watch the negative and positive points appear.  “I think Bennet fell asleep,” Chris kept saying.  “Why didn’t anybody give Obama one for that?” I’d ask.  Sometimes, we had to back the TV up, ’cause a point would sneak by us.

Finally though, Chris succumbed to tiredness.  Left to my own devices, I sat up and watched three more hours of jabbering commentaries, everything from right wing conservative Pat Buchanan to the new kid on the left side of the block Rachel Maddow.  I couldn’t wait to get up this morning and see how the debate was spinning after a night’s sleep.

Now, I’ve even gone to the web for more:  The BBC online provided snippets from eight different political writers who analyzed McCain’s and Obama’s performances.  They also list some key quotes— none that memorable from my point of view, although Obama did diss McCain for singing bomb bomb bomb bomb bomb Iran to the tune of the Beach Boy song, ‘Barbara Ann’.

Follow the link for a youtube video of the McStupid rendition of Bomb bomb Iran, complete with a defense of his stupidity. “If somebody can’t understand that,” Senator McCain said “my answer is then, please, get a life.”

Speaking of which, I find it disturbing that a world leader could sing about bombing men women and children’s body parts into oblivion.  Any analysis of his so-called joke weighs so heavy on McCain’s fitness to govern that absolutely nothing can be said to justify that kind of imprudence, no matter how much torture was endured at the hands of the Viet Cong.  Now that I know this pugnacious character, I’m not even sure I believe what he says about his imprisonment.  Whew!

Steam clearing.

I also tend to agree with the analysts who say McCain showed more passion.  But who wants that kind of passion?  You’re doing a ‘heck of a job’, Johnny, especially in the anger department.  Ezra Klein of ‘The American Prospect’ had this to say: “McCain was certainly more impassioned… His emotion, his passion, came from a nearly uncontrollable contempt for his opponent…”

The fact is, McCain, highly irritated to be on the same stage with Obama, avoided looking directly at his opponent for ninety minutes straight, even after the moderator (Jim Lehrer) ordered both candidates to face each other—something else I found obnoxious.  According to the freepress.net, however, I’m in the 10% minority with any harsh assesment of the moderator.   Most thought PBS personality Jimmy did a heck of a job.

Moving on.  In the end, it was Barcak Obama who graciously made his way across the stage to congratulate McCain.  I read Obama’s lips as he held out his hand to Senator McCain. “Good job, John,” he said patting his colleague on the arm with a smile.

For a more in-depth grading of each candidate’s performance—one that involves substance, style, offense and defense click here on Time.com. Political analyst, Mark Halperin, assigned each candidate an overall letter grade:  Mccain got a B-, while Obama snagged an A-.

“Two more performances like that and he (Obama) will be very tough to beat on Election Day,” Halperin said.

.

Spiraling Towards Social Capitalism

Hurricane

It is not yet time to flee. Take heart and concentrate on the spinning spiral while imagining a brighter day.  (This hypnotic moment brought to you courtesy of the Atlantic Oceanographic and Meteorological Laboratory AOML.)

Moving on.  As our country threatens to make landfall somewhere in the vicinity of social capitalism, people are putting all sorts of spin on the phenomenon.  I’ve listened to the different takes on our nation’s financial meltdown and here’s mine:

Spin is like religion—a mater of personal preference, so why not be proactive? In other words, don’t let the spin choose you, go out there and find one you like.  Happy to say, you’re allowed to bounce off as many conflicting conclusions as you want on the way to settling down.  Senator McCain does it all the time.

Sad to say, folks, this is one presidential candidate who knows all about the bouncing technique—in a matter of days, he went from the ‘economy is fundamentally strong‘ to we’ve gotta drop everything and fix it.  If someone standing in the brightest limelight imaginable can change his position faster than a tweaking chickenheaded hoebag, then so can those of us standing out here in the dark.  No need to be an expert on economic meltdowns.  In this youtube video, McCain says he’s no expert, either.

Generally speaking, economics is touted as too mind-boggling and dry for the likes of us taxpayers, and, therefore, better left to comrades Paulson, Greenspan and Bernanke.  But you might be surprised how simple and juicy the subject of economics can be, even for the common person.  Just imagine all that juicy emotion out there on the web waiting for your clicks.  I urge everyone to visit the minds of other folks, i.e. tap into what the experts are feeling about Bailoutgate.

The_new_communists

Wanna feel riled up?  Bill Perkins is definitely your man.  This 39 year old dude took out a $139,104 full page advertisement  in the New York Times depicting Mr. Bush, Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson and Federal Reserve Board Chairman Ben Bernanke trampling on the graves of private enterprise and capitalism. “I see it as trickle-down communism,” Mr. Perkins said. “We have a communist action where everybody is paying for the benefit of the few and hoping the benefits will trickle down to everyone else.”

Wanna feel less riled up?  Eugene Robinson of the Washington Post is standing by with his more genteel take, A Bailout or a Bonanza: “The uber-capitalists of Wall Street are all socialists now. Free-market ideology, it turns out, doesn’t pay the mortgage. That appears to be a job for, ahem, Big Government.”

Wanna gloat a little?  Read “McCain Loses His Head” by conservative columnist George F. Will:  Mr. Will likens Senator McCain’s threat to fire the head of the SEC (Chris Cox) to the fat-cat Queen of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. “The queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, great or small. ‘Off with his head!’ she said without even looking around.”

I choose to remember the words of George F. Will, however. To hear a conservative diss his own candidate makes me smile: “It is arguable that, because of his inexperience, Obama is not ready for the presidency. It is arguable that McCain, because of his boiling moralism and bottomless reservoir of certitudes, is not suited to the presidency. Unreadiness can be corrected, although perhaps at great cost, by experience. Can a dismaying temperament be fixed?”

All Clear for Landing

lenticular cloud headed for Mount Shasta

Spaceship headed for Mount Shasta

Here it is, folks, the only evidence that the weather forecasters knew what they were talking about.  Our 20% chance of thunderstorms all boiled down to this one cloud yesterday.  But what a cloud it was!  My pic doesn’t begin to do it justice.

As a ‘know-nothing’, I’d call it a lenticular cloud riding a  little thunderhead, but there are many names for lens shaped clouds: Cap or pileus clouds, Lenticular, orographic and banner clouds, not to mention spaceships.  Any one of these refers to the round, stationary, atmospheric formations of condensed water vapor or ice crystals that most often hang out above or near high geographic formations such as mountains.  (My very own definition!)

Mount Shasta creates many beautiful cloud types and formations of water. Follow the link for more photos and copious cloud talk.

Back to lenticulars. For some reason, they fall into one of three categories—altocumulus, stratocumulus or cirrocumulus depending on something or other that I was too lazy to figure out.

If you’re feeling mentally spry, click to the AMS* or American Meteorological Society. For my present mental state, I found their definitions too long winded and circular.  (Get it?)  Just the statement of purpose was a bit on the dense or cumulus side: “The American Meteorological Society promotes the development and dissemination of information and education on the atmospheric and related oceanic and hydrologic sciences and the advancement of their professional applications.”

When it comes to cap clouds, or lenticulars sitting atop a mountain peak, I think the Brits say it best:

Cap cloud

Cap cloud or cloud cap is a stratiform, orographic cloud that hovers above or over an isolated mountain peak, formed by the cooling and condensation of moist air forced up and over the peak and lenticularly shaped by horizontal upper level winds. The cloud appears to remain essentially stationary.

The term is also occasionally used for pileus (Latin for cap) cloud. Unlike the mountain cap cloud the pileus is essentially an accessory cloud, that appears as a smooth cap, or hood above a cumulus or cumulonimbus cloud. The cap forms when a humid layer is lifted to its dew point above a rising thermal. This may later penetrate the pileus, which will eventually be absorbed into the main cloud body. Sometimes several layers of pileus form above one another.

Conservative DNA Is Not Dominant

red sky in the morning~Chris Tatro (sendoutcards.com/site) photo

red sky in the morning~Chris Tatro (sendoutcards.com/site) photo

Hello and a red sky good morning to everyone! There’s a 20% chance of rain for our area in the form of thunderstorms. It would be exciting to have the rain but we don’t need any lightening.

Speaking of excitement, Chris and I awoke at sunrise to a stunning sight. Every window facing East was ablaze with blues, pinks, and oranges. It was a fast changing light show of rippled clouds that got redder and redder with the sun’s climb.

You know what they say, though: Red sky at night, sailor’s delight, Red sky in the morning, sailor’s warning.

Photo: Bronze sunset reflecting in the Straits of Georgia

red sky sunrise

Speaking of warnings, I just watched a handful of young Black protesters in  Coral Gables, Florida interrupt a Barack O’bama campaign speech.  They were holding scribbled signs that linked this dark-skinned man to the Ku Klux Klan.

I guess all the red skies we’ve been seeing these last couple years weren’t kidding.  Everything seems to have gone haywire—we’re poised for a storm, the likes of which most of us have never seen.

Trying to link the KKK with Obama just doesn’t make any sense, though.  Having grown up in the South, I’m very familiar with the Ku Klux Klan and its pinpoint focus, i.e. against everybody but White Anglo Saxon Protestant Rednecks (WASPR).  Could they have changed that much? I don’t think so.

A cartoon threatening the KKK will lynch carpetbaggers, in the Independent Monitor, Tuscaloosa, Alabama, 1868.

A red-faced Klansman of monumental girth and meanness lived on my street. As fathers went, he was the scariest by far.  Late, one Friday evening, I saw him waddle out to the family Pontiac wearing what looked to be a long, white mu mu.  He was in a hurry but stopped long enough to model his tall, white pointy hat with eye-slits for us. Did he ever look dumb driving away with half that mu mu hanging out his car door.

Though his values live on, the neighbor died a long time ago—he died of a gigantic heart attack. For good or ill, that KKK image of him burned itself into my memory banks. This was the very same redneck who stormed in our back door like a clumsy bull one Saturday morning because my sister had invited a ‘Negro’ schoolmate home to bake some chocolate chip cookies.

Moving on. It’s a mystery to me how African American protesters (mostly male) could put Obama and the Klan in the same thought, much less the same sign.  Someone must have done their thinking for them. After searching the web, I found out more about these strange protesters: “Blacks Against Obama,” they call themselves—and they’re even against Oprah.

Ideologically speaking, the young black dudes are all over the place.  A couple of them said  Obama was “endorsed by the KKK.” Others said he was for abortion and gay marriage.  Still another sign read, “Jesse Jackson hates Obama.”

According to the article I found, Obama knew these protesters were in the crowd. He originally said they could stay inside and listen to his speech.  But the kids had to be escorted to the door when they wouldn’t stop shouting.

I find Obama’s equitable behavior laudably fair, seeing that McCain would not have allowed any known dissenters within five hundred yards of him.  What I don’t understand is how these African American protesters made the odd leap about the KKK backing Obama for President: Not under any circumstance, past, present or future, would the Klan support an African American for anything.  Unlike most things these days, that you can bank on.

If anyone needs some historic reminders of KKK activities, here’s a weird one from the early 1920’s.  I found an astounding article about the KKK’s political takeover of Anaheim, California.  Yes, folks, Anaheim as in Disneyland.  The KKK had plans to make this mostly white town a ‘model klan city’. Follow the link for more info.

Twentieth Century crossburning in Anaheim, California

Back to Obama:  I worry that race will be the deciding factor.

My eighty-eight year old daddy, for example, grew up in the bottom lands of Mississippi, just a bit southeast of Memphis.  His mother was Choctaw and Irish; his daddy was Cherokee and English.  Neither family owned land after the ‘white’ man came. They were the kind of Native Americans that intermarried and became sharecroppers.

My daddy is one of those American success stories, though.  He grew up to be small business owner and a middle class citizen.  Recently I asked him about politics and his answer made me really sad.  I found out that Daddy will never vote for an African American; never mind that Obama is half-white, or what used to be called ‘high yellow‘.

What you’ve got to understand, folks, is this: My daddy is not a total redneck, especially in the Lady Rothschild sense of the word. This is the very same ‘Daddy’ who stood up for my sister’s right to have an African American friend; the same ‘Daddy’ who went out to the car and shook the hand of the ‘colored’ girl’s daddy when he dropped her off in broad daylight in our all white neighborhood; the same ‘Daddy’ who loaded his shotgun because the KKK neighbor threatened to burn a cross in our front yard, the same Republican-voting ‘Daddy’ who said he would vote for Hilary Clinton just a few months back.

I am so disappointed—so disappointed to have to admit that Daddy can’t make that final step to freedom.  If it’s in his DNA, thankfully it didn’t get passed on. All his five kids are liberal as heck.

Too many oxymorons spoil the stew.




Red Sky in the Morning…

H~red sky in the morning, sailor take warning~

~ sailor take warning~

“Take Me to Your Leader, or else…

I'll bite your head off.

Did you know that the name ‘mantis’ comes form the Greek ‘mantis’, meaning prophet or diviner? Did you know that the praying mantis is named for its humble folded claw position and not its ability to prey on creatures five times its size?

European mantis demonstrating its ability to hang sideways

Chris and I found this formidable looking insect on our screen door.  No doubt it was looking for crickets or other juicy tidbits. There are times, though, when the chosen tidbits do seem rather ambitious. I don’t know if this particular 2-3 inch predator could wrestle down and bite the head off a lizard, mouse, snake, hornet, tarantula or hummingbird, but the bigger ones can.

Before you decide to keep a praying mantis as a pet, think on that and know this: In some states it’s illegal to make a pet of a praying mantis, unless the mantis is foreign, i.e. Chinese or European. Both were introduced into the Northeastern U.S. about 80 years ago in the hopes of controlling crop-eating insects.

Back to the law: How can you know when you’re committing the crime of imprisoning a native?  The Chinese mantis is more brownish and has a green lateral stripe down the front wing, while the European sports a black ring on its leg like the one we found (see above).  As usual, Wikipedia puts it more scientifically: The Euro mantis is easily distinguished  by a black-ringed spot beneath the fore coxae.

Since there are at least 20 species native to the U.S., if you see one, best not try to domesticate it. When I was a kid, someone (might have been my mother) encouraged my little brother to keep a praying mantis trapped between the glass and the screen of his bedroom window—supposedly the perfect open air environment, i.e. cage, though some swear you can keep them without bars.

Occasionally, I watched my little brother fiddle with the odd looking creature, feed it live crickets, flies and spiders, hoping for some bonding.  I think it was supposed to earn him a merit badge, too—you know, the kind that Boy Scouts get.  If you’re hot to know more about scouting badges and insects, follow this link to Insect Life Merit Badge.

Speaking of which, the praying mantis is the only insect in the known world that can swivel its head from side to side in a 180 degree radius. If you want to see some very cool detailed shots of the mantis, click here.  Did I say shots? What I meant was brilliant new photographic techniques pioneered by David Yager, an associate professor of psychology and neuroscience at the University of Maryland.

Yager photographs his mantids (praying mantises) dozens of times, “each shot focused a few ten-thousandths of an inch deeper than the last.  A computer melds those views into a single image that is simultaneously focused throughout the insect.”

Why does Yager do this?  So his students can explore the mantids’ inner ear. What’s so neat about an inner ear?  Of the 2300 different species of mantids, most share the highly peculiar trait of having just one ear, located smack dab in the middle of the chest.

Moving on.  The praying mantis is one of those insects that gives women a bad name:  That’s because the female is known to bite the head off her mate, but only during copulation. This doesn’t deter the male in any way, so they say; in fact, it speeds up his ejaculation process.  And how do we know that the sperm gets a healthy boost just as the male is decapitated?  Because male researchers find this sexual cannibalism so fascinating that they have devoted many hours to watching it happen.

Sad to say, the watching might be what causes it, though.  In confined laboratory conditions with bright lights in her face, the female is more likely to eat the male, possibly as a means of survival, possibly because the dude was not an adequate lover. Who knows? I choose to think she is killing the male out of the goodness of her heart, saving him from the degrading hopelessness of life long imprisonment.

Back to the mating process: Like many other females, the mantis secretes a pheromone to attract the male and let him know she’s ready.  Sometimes he approaches from the front and other times he makes a flying leap from behind, depending on his preference. During one experiment, a mantis couple was observed copulating for six hours.  Afterwards, her lover was allowed to fly away, its head unscathed, thereby proving my point that females let the good lovers live on.  If you want to see a mating pair of Chinese mantises, follow the link.  Don’t worry, I searched long and hard to find the happy ending; but I warn you, it was at the expense of a cricket.

Although the praying mantis is known for its cannibalistic mating process, there is good evidence that it only occurs 5-31% of the time. Dan Feldman, mantis voyeur extraordinaire, says this occurs most often because the female is hungry and a mate’s head provides an instant source of energy for her.  Why didn’t I think of that!

But there are other explanations: As we all know, natural mating takes place without a camera and bright lights, so rather than leaning over the tank to study their every move, one group of researchers left the two love-mantises alone and videotaped what happened.

By their own accounts, they were amazed. Out of thirty private matings, there was not one instance of decapitation. Instead, the camera filmed an elaborate courtship display, with both sexes performing a ritual dance, stroking each other with their antennae before finally uniting in ecstasy. “It really was a lovely display”, one fellow reported, leading to his conclusion that sexual cannibalism occurs most often only if the female is hungry.

Still another researcher, thinks the head eating also benefits the male, since he serves as a kind of vitamin injection for his offspring who will now be strong in a world where survival of the species is everything. Plus, he gets to pass on his own genes. Whoopee! The fact of the matter is, sexual cannibalism isn’t unheard of in nature. The male redback and orbweb spiders fall prey to their lovers, not to mention the infamous black widow.

Despite its mating habits or maybe because of, the praying mantis has historically been quite the star of mythology and folklore. More recently, it starred in the Hollywood production of the sci-fi thriller, The Deadly Mantis (1957), a giant female that hatched after a volcanic eruption melted its Arctic ootheca (encasement).  Hmmm, does anyone see a remake using global warming?

Back to the old folk tales: French people believed a praying mantis would point a lost child home and help wandering lovers. Lost Muslims looked for a mantis to point them towards Mecca.  Some Africans tribes thought it could raise the dead. Americans thought mantis juices blinded men and killed horses.  But the Chinese had it down: Nothing cured bedwetting better than roasted mantis eggs.  I don’t know exactly what they did what those eggs, but knowing the Chinese, they ate them pickled or in a stir-fry.

Speaking of eggs, after mating, the female lays up to 400 in batches that are enclosed in a tough, spongy encasement called an ootheca. You can find oothecas attached to fence posts, twigs and stems, or buried in the ground.  No matter what size the mantis is, the eggs are all the same size. Some vigilant females stand guard over their eggs until the nymphs (young) emerge, unless it takes all winter.

Generally speaking, though, the eggs hatch in 3 weeks to 6 months depending on the temperature and humidity. The young finally emerge from tiny holes in the casing, looking exactly like their parents, only smaller. Because the nymphs grow quickly, they molt (shed their skin) while maturing into adults—adults like the European mantis Chris and I found.

We’ve come full circle, folks. If you would like a greeting card to have and to hold, of the green praying mantis on a red Maple leaf, just ask. I have access to the Great Printer in Salt Lake City—you know, the one that works for Sendoutcards.

Happy tales,

Laura signing off

2 Bridges to 2 Nowheres: Take Me to Your Leader!

UFO over Mt Shasta~photo by Chris Tatro (sendoutcards.com/site)

Speaking of leaders, we’ve got less than eight weeks till we get a new one. There’s a scary thought.

Let it pinball around your brain a bit, folks, and you’ll see what I mean….Time’s a wastin!

What’s all this mumbo-jumbo about earmarks?  Shouldn’t any state, regardless of population, creed or need, have the right to a spending spree? Or does that honor extend to the populated few?  A mute question, judging from reality.  The fact is, all Earmarkers like earmarks and earmarking just fine.

Which brings me to what I like best about an ‘Earmark’, i.e. its humble versatility as a part of speech.   ‘Earmark’, for example, can be a noun (including a gerund), a verb, an adjective, not to mention an interjection: Damn! Dickweed! Earmark!

A little focus, please:  An earmark is a line-item inserted into any bill that anonymously funnels cash to a specific project or recipient behind the public’s back.  In other words, any member of our esteemed Congress can direct a large wad of the taxpayer’s cash to his or her town where it can be spent on a pet project, without the Member of Congress having to identify him/herself or the project.

I’ve searched high and low to find some site exclusively devoted to earmarks and found it.  Follow the link if you like, but I did tweak some pertinent info from the FAQ section on earmarking:

How can we, as funders of the earmarks, ferret out the identity of an earmarker? We can’t. Earmarkers are allowed to hide behind any pile of crap they choose; nothing says a member has to identify his or her earmarks.  So just shut up about it.

Some Representatives and Senators are proud, though—-shouting their earmarks from the highest heights via the press, while many refuse to discuss them at all.  One way of finding out an earmarker’s identity is to look at the project name of the cash recipient—often named after the earmarkers, themselves.

Who gets the most earmarks? Who gets anything in life? The more powerful members of Congress. The surest way to excel in earmarking, however, is to be on an Appropriations Committee. The best position to secure anything, including earmarks, is to be a chair of an appropriations subcommittee.

Speaking of chairs, Rep. Don Young of Alaska has occupied a nice, fat, cushy one since 1973.  Back in 2005, as the head of the Transportation Committee, Young earmarked funds for the now infamous, Bridges to Nowhere. One of these bridges fellow Alaskan earmarker, Sarah Palin, supported—before Congress ended her non-wet dream, that is.

Back to Don Young, though:  in October 2006, Rolling Stone called Don one of “the ten worst Congressmen“. I’m willing to bet the magazine sill stand by its assessment.  If you read a little further, you’ll probably agree that this top ten honor should extend indefinitely.

Don Young on the subject of environmentalists:   a “self-centered bunch of waffle-stomping, Harvard-graduating, intellectual idiots” who “are not Americans, never have been Americans, never will be Americans.”

Don Young making a pun: The victims of Katrina, he suggested, “can kiss my ear!”

Don Young waving a  penis at Mollie Beattie.  Whipping out the eighteen-inch penis bone of a walrus and brandishing it like a sword on the House floor, Young said to Beattie (director of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service), “There’s nothing sacred about this bone!”   Young also waved his penis at the rest of Congress, while arguing the right of an Alaskan entrepreneur to sell the sex organs of endangered animals as aphrodisiacs.

As you can see from the picture below, folks, the bone is a mightier weapon than the pencil and gives the term ‘pencildick‘ (a penis of small girth) new perspective.

Thank-you to the blog, A Tiny Revolution, who provided this comparison. I think you’ll agree that the Don Young penis story has much more punch.

Speaking of which, Rolling Stone has a lot more to say about “Mr. Pork’s” deeds as one of the infamous ten:  “Alaska’s Third Senator,” and former tugboat captain knows how to haul home the bacon.  More than $400 million was earmarked for two bridges.   Two separate bridges, folks, to two separate nowheres!

The first, nearly as long as the Golden Gate, was to serve an island community of fifty people. The second, known as ‘Don Young’s Way,‘ would connect Anchorage to a patch of scarcely habitable marshland, making Alaska, the nation’s third least populated state, the fourth-biggest recipient of transportation funds.  “…Stuffed it like a turkey,”  the famous earmarker boasted.

Which brings me to the subject of boasting:  John McCain and Sarah Palin criticized Democrat Barack Obama over the amount of money he earmarked for his home state Illinois, even though Alaska under Palin’s leadership has earmarked 10 times more money per citizen for pet projects.

Pet projects, you know, like the Bridge to Nowhere, the one that Palin was for before she was against.  Thanks to this very same bridge, we have to listen to Palin repeat ad nauseum, “Thanks, but no thanks,”

According to the Anchorage Daily, however, Palin campaigned in 2006 on a build-the-bridge platform, telling Ketchikan residents she felt their pain when politicians called them “nowhere.”

The newspaper goes on to say that they’re still feeling pain today in Ketchikan, over Palin’s subsequent decision to use the bridge funds for other projects — and over the timing of her announcement, which they say came in a pre-dawn press release that seemed aimed at national news deadlines.

“I think that’s when the campaign for national office began,” said Ketchikan Mayor Bob Weinstein on Saturday.

Meanwhile, Weinstein noted, the state is continuing to build a road on Gravina Island to an empty beach where the bridge would have gone — because federal money for the access road, unlike the bridge money, would have otherwise been returned to the federal government.”

Allow me to paraphrase the Washington Post on this ‘thanks but no thanks’ stance:

Palin is failin’ the Pinocchio Test. It would be more accurate to say that Sarah Palin finally killed off a bridge project that had become a national joke then used the money to build a road to nowhere.


Here is an Alaskan website that provides information about one of the Nowhere Bridges—a mute point, at this juncture.

I’m wondering what Sarah Palin is going to do about the second bridge—’Don Young’s Way’.  It’s still up in the air, so to speak.

Happy tales,

Laura signing off.

p.s. If you would like a real hold-in-your-hand greeting card, i.e. a sendoutcard , of the UFO pic that Chris  took yesterday morning, just say so.

Have Condoms, Will Be Rehabilitated

A Cambodian woman holds a wrapper from Number One Plus condom in Phnom Penh.

All you young folks out there listen up.  I’ve got an acne tip like no other—guaranteed to kill 50 million birds with one stone.  This 12 cent cure was discovered in the Southeast Orient by the more inventive amongst them.  At least that’s what I’m assuming.

OK, lest the suspense kill you, let me be quick: It’s nothing more than a  humble condom lubricant.

PHNOM PENH – A condom lubricant designed for sex workers and gay men has become a popular acne cure among female Cambodians. More specifically it’s Number One Plus, a water-based lubricant produced by health organization Population Services International (PSI).

“After I used it for three days, all of my acne dried up and went away,” one woman reported happily. “Many people believe in it,” she added.

According to those in the know, women of all ages have taken to using the lubricant to get rid of spots. Word of mouth is how the information is spreading—as in women telling women, though I suspect gay men are spreading the word just as efficiently and quickly.   Here is a first hand quote from one happy user:

“…my friends, who work at garment factories in Phnom Penh, advised me to apply the lubricant from Number One Plus condoms on my face every night,” she said, “and just within three to four nights, the acne on my face gradually and then totally disappeared.”

PSI was not immediately available for comment on the cosmetic benefits of their product.

At least four things came to mind when I read this article:  1) Why do these young Cambodians have bad acne? 2) What ingredients are in the lubricant? 3) How many young women work in the garment industry? 4) What does the term ’sex workers’ mean?

Starting with the last, I Googled  ’sex workers East Asia’ and hopped on the first site that popped up.  Sad to say, it had information I could have done without this Monday morning.

First of all, it is illegal in Cambodia to engage in sex work without a condom.  Second, in early 2008, an anti-human trafficking law was passed making all sex work illegal.

Sounds confusing, but the upshot of those two laws, is not confusing to the police.  Cambodia’s finest, imbued with a sense of power, use condoms as evidence that a woman is a sex worker.  Sex workers are arrested and sent to “rehabilitation” centers.

What you wanna bet, folks, that this puts a damper on all condom usage?  —Except for acne, of course.

How are these women rehabilitated, one might inquire?  Answer: They’re imprisoned in communal cells with no bathrooms or running water and given almost no food or drink.  Some are beaten, some are raped, some both. The HIV positive women are denied drug treatment.  And all this horror gets done in the name of anti-human trafficking.  For more information, there is a video to watch if you follow the link.

So I guess I’m left wondering why there are so many things to be sad about and so little time…

Not so happy tales,

Laura signing off

Can Johnny Be Strong?

Ba


ba

Speaking of fate!   Our fate and the fate of the World hangs in the balance of the upcoming election.  That sounds dramatic—maybe too dramatic, I don’t know.  One thing’s for certain, whoever is elected to succeed Bush will lead/push us down the path of his choosing.

So, all we can really need to do is identify the path.  That seems easy enough.  The McCain/Palin path looks the same as the one we’ve been on the last eight years.  Oh, I know, McCain is saying he’s different—calls himself a ‘maverick‘.  But just exactly what is a ‘maverick’?

Let’s get back to the source: It all began, folks, with Samuel Augustus Maverick (1803- 1870) who was born in Charleston, South Carolina to some well-off, genteel types.  Sam was home-schooled, tutored, graduated from Yale, dabbled in the family business, apprenticed under an attorney at law, Henry St. George Tucker, Sr. and became a lawyer.

He was a Southerner, by god, so I have good feelings about the fella! But where did he stand on secession from the Union?

As a practicing lawyer in Charleston, Maverick ran for a seat in the South Carolina legislature.  He took a peaceful stance to the tariff issue (a federal tax levied to hurt the South), plus he was against nullification (the right of a state to obey or disobey the feds). This stance was not the least bit popular, nor practical, amongst the many Southerners crying for Yankee blood, so Maverick placed 9th out of 13 candidates. Presumably discouraged, Sam moved to Alabama where he added to his failures by unsuccessfully running a gold mine.

Unsuccessful entrepreneur? Unable to envision war as the answer?   How can you not like this underdog!

OK, so now we know Samuel Maverick was somewhat of a pacifist.  But where did Sam, the born and raised Southerner, stand on owning folks?  Happy to say, he didn’t like that much, either:  After his stint at goldmining, Sam took 25 of his father’s slaves and headed for Alabama to try his hand at ‘plantationing’.  According to historian, Paula Mitchell Marks (Turn Your Eyes Toward Texas: Pioneers Sam and Mary Maverick) being a slave master wasn’t to Maverick’s liking, so he threw down his whip and headed for Texas.

There was a political problem with this choice, folks.  Texas was part of Mexico, an openly rebellious part.  Naturally, Samuel Maverick, the American, got involved in the fracas.  Seen as an instigator, Maverick, along with about sixty other Anglo-Americans, were seized by the Mexican Army and taken on a three month march to the motherland (Mexico). Although the journey was difficult and the men were forced to sleep in manure filled sheep pens, Maverick writes in his journal that he “’saw and experienced a thousand new thrills.”  To each his own, I suppose.

Not too thrilling, however, was the treatment he received upon arrival at the Mexican prison in Perote. Men were chained together in pairs and put to hard labor. On behalf of his comrades, Maverick complained about the meager food amounts and was thrown into solitary confinement (January 5, 1843).

Despite the fact that he was incarcerated and called Fayette county ‘home’, Maverick was elected by the people of San Antonio to the Seventh Texas Congress.  Needless to say, he was not allowed to attend.  Maverick was, however, offered his freedom several times, provided he would publicly support Mexico’s claim to Texas.  He refused: “I cannot persuade myself that such an annexation, on any terms, would be advantageous to Texas, and I therefore cannot say so, for I regard a lie as a crime, and one which I cannot commit even to secure my release.”

Wow, folks!  Since when has any politician considered a lie to be a crime!

Moving on. The Mexican government finally released Mr. Maverick on March 30,  the same day his wife gave birth to daughter, Augusta.  Two months later Maverick returned home, toting the chain that had bound him.

Now it gets even more interesting, ’cause Samuel Maverick was elected to the Texas State Legislature (1851-63) and served as a Democrat.  And what was his main focus as a Democrat in this state legislature?

According to Paula Mitchell Marks (the historian), he worked “to ensure equal opportunity for his Mexican and German constituents, to foster fair and liberal laws for land acquisition and ownership, to develop transportation and other internal state improvements, to provide protection for the frontier, and to ensure a fair and efficient judicial system”.

Marks goes on to say that Maverick did not support a War between the States, but, seeing that the conflict was inevitable, threw his support behind the Confederacy.  During the Civil War, he was elected Chief Justice of Bexar County and served a second term as San Antonio mayor. “After the War, he received a presidential pardon and was active in attempts to combat the radical Republican regime in Reconstruction Texas.”

Which reminds me… back to the word for which he stands—maverick:  During his hopping about from Alabama to Texas, Samuel Maverick left a herd of unbranded cows roaming the countryside. It was this wandering herd that gave rise to the term maverick.

Can’t you just imagine some cowpoke like Clint Eastwood riding the range and coming across a little unmarked ‘dogie’.  “Oh that’s just a Maverick,” he’d say to his partner, “sling the little feller over yur saddle, Routy. We’ll take him home and brand him.”

It wasn’t long, folks, til the word ‘maverick’ became the generic term for an unbranded cow. How an unbranded cow then evolved into a free/independent thinking human is unclear; because, by dictionary definition, a maverick is an independent thinker, or an unbranded calf that’s free pickings.

Which brings me back to my original thoughts—although they might have seemed a bit murky at the onset: What part of the Republican Presidential Candidate, John McCain, is unbranded?  And what part of his brain is thinking freely?

By all counts, the man didn’t even select Sarah Palin for his running mate–he wanted Lieberman, his buddy but caved in to advisers. This cave-in thing seems like a pattern, folks. The worst was to Bush about torturing prisoners. I guess pandering to the religious right was pretty bad, too.   Enough, I say!

John McCain may have once roamed the Washington range unbranded, but that was a long time ago.  He’s done been slung over the saddle and corralled in the bosom of the Republican Party.  Heck, the dude voted with Bush 100% of the time in 2008.

I don’t see a free thinker.   I don’t even see an unbranded calf.  Do I have to tell you where I see that big fat ‘R’?

Happy tales,

Laura signing off

p.s. Hold onto your fate, folks!  it’s gonna be a rough ride.