We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
With all due respect to the Bible and to Shakespeare, I say that it is obviously acceptable in casual and conversational English, and in poetic English, but not in formal English, and the same goes for run-on sentences.
America does run on Dunkin', as does Maggie's HQ. Mediocre coffee but good caffeine - and always a great ambience.
"Let's Take a Traditional City Break 4: Many Variations, One Theme." New World Economics likes The Old Urbanist (as do we) - and posted some dynamite urban street scenes
If you can remember only one fact, make it this one: The middle class (middle quintile) pays 14.1 percent of its income in federal taxes, while the rich (top tenth of one percent of the population) pay 30.4 percent.
"Nearly 16,000 migrated to California, while 10,000 moved to New Jersey, 8000 to New York, and 8000 to other American states," according to Gabriel. "Around 14,000 left to Australia, 17,000 to Canada, and 20,000 settled in the Netherlands, Italy, England, Austria, Germany and France."
Here's something you don't have in common with 10,873 other supporters of this movement who tell us they live in Connecticut.
That many of your neighbors have decided to own a piece of this campaign by making a donation of whatever they could afford. For some, that meant just $5. For others, it meant $100 or more. But each had their own personal reason for giving.
Our records show that you aren't one of the 10,873 people in your state who have stepped up for 2012. Now's your chance to change that.
Here's why you should join your neighbors in supporting this campaign: We've been running the numbers, and with hundreds of thousands of individual donors across the country -- we are now well on our way to a million people.
In the 2008 campaign, it took us more than a year to reach that milestone. This time around, we could cross it as soon as October -- just six months after the launch of the campaign.
Between now and then, we have an important fundraising deadline.
Our opponents have significant operations on the ground in key battleground states, full-time candidates without day jobs, and a lot of media attention to fuel their campaigns.
President Obama has you. And when you're building a grassroots organization from the bottom up, the first person gets the next one involved. And the first 10,873 provide the foundation and inspiration for the next 10,873.
Support the campaign before the deadline, and bring us closer to one million donors -- give $3 today:
Attended a wonderful Chopin recital last night, perfomed by Benjamin Hochman.
Among other pieces, he performed Chopin's Barcarolle, Op 60. It's a mind-blowingly charming piece, and there is something about the relatively-rare key of F# Major that works for me.
It is? What kind of "love"? What did Lennon/McCarthy mean, and who made them experts?
Our link yesterday morning from F- Feelings was excellent: Love Slaves. "The bad news is that most love won’t work, and you’ve got to leave it alone when you know it won’t."
If we let emotion control our lives, we are animals. If we let reason control our lives, we are robots.
There are more kinds of love than the Eskimos have (proverbially) kinds of snow. I once tried to make a list, and gave up. People vary enormously in their needs or wants for all of those sorts of need, desire, addiction, and attachment.
The people don't owe Warren and her vast government machine anything. She owes it to them.
For over a century, the public has paid far more into government than it has received back in benefits. That extra money has gone to people like Warren. It has gone into the entire rotten machinery of crony capitalism, welfare state machine politics and massive bureaucracy. So let's be clear about this. We don't owe Warren and her ilk anything. She owes us.
When Jimmy Hoffa threatens the non-unionists, one imagines that Detroit is building better, safer, more reliable cars at a better price and has for decades. When Barack Obama urges the Black Caucus to march for equality, and adopts the cadences and pose of a 1960 civil rights leader, one would think the right wing in Florida just picked Bull Connor, not Herman Cain, as their straw poll winner. When the third-generation, hip spokesman for La Raza talks about inequality, one would think she herself just crossed the border from Oaxaca, forced to flee a benevolent Mexico to work in the pits of an American Mordor.
I guess you can store them right next to your secret stash of incandescent bulbs, your stash of salt, your guns, your Bibles, your tobacco, your home-grown medical pot, and your gold coins.
Each of my pupettes (the female pups) are attending weekend-long weddings this weekend, one off in LA and one big one in NYC. And the media tells us that marriage is going out of fashion...
Is September the new, hip wedding month? Or does June just get too crowded?
Pastor was preaching today about our congregation being, or becoming, a "deep church" and not a "nice church."
Since our service ran 1 1/2 hours (as it often does), and the second morning service was coming up, I didn't have time to ask him exactly what was meant.
Thank God for these intertunnels. Here's one essay on the topic: Deep Church: A Third Way? If that essay is any indication, I think our church is pretty much there. I don't know about "nice," but we are darn friendly and welcoming. Growing quickly too, for better or worse.
Obama is quite a throwback. In some ways, he would return us to centuries past. His administration is spending trillions to build high-speed trains, despite minimal consumer demand. Trains are a 19th-century technology. Subsidies are also doled out for wind power, a medieval technology. Meanwhile, the space program is all but jettisoned.
Rather than rely on fossil fuels, the president would make America run on renewable energy. The last renewable in widespread use was the horse.
Imagine millions of Americans withholding mortgage payments to banks that refuse to adjust underwater loans. Imagine divestment campaigns to pressure public pension funds and universities to pull their money from the private sector and put it into government bonds. Imagine students staging sit-ins to protest teacher layoffs. Imagine families who have lost their homes squatting in vacant, bank-owned properties. Imagine a nationwide call to arms, as passionately nonviolent but as violently passionate as the pro-democracy movements sweeping the Arab world.
21:23 When he entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him as he was teaching, and said, "By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?"
21:24 Jesus said to them, "I will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things.
21:25 Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?" And they argued with one another, "If we say, 'From heaven,' he will say to us, 'Why then did you not believe him?'
21:26 But if we say, 'Of human origin,' we are afraid of the crowd; for all regard John as a prophet."
21:27 So they answered Jesus, "We do not know." And he said to them, "Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.
21:28 "What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, 'Son, go and work in the vineyard today.'
21:29 He answered, 'I will not'; but later he changed his mind and went.
21:30 The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, 'I go, sir'; but he did not go.
21:31 Which of the two did the will of his father?" They said, "The first." Jesus said to them, "Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you.
21:32 For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him.
Okay, now you people know, you are well aware one of the reasons you listen is I know liberals. I know them. I know them like every square inch of my glorious naked body. Dealing with liberals is like dealing with a one-armed lunatic.
He wonders who has been producing the money to pay her salary all these years in non-profits, government, and academia. Read the whole thing - with half his brain tied behind his back, just to keep it fair.
There is a parasitic mind-set out there, and lots of people want to get on board. As I like to say, "Ask first what your country can do for you..." No heavy lifting, no accountability. In Warren's world, who does the real work? Slaves?
I have been a de facto slave to government (taxes) and academia (tuitions) most of my adult life. I give more than I can afford to non-profits and my church too, but at least that is voluntary.
Glazer is one of those people whose thinking we have always admired, whether we agreed with his conclusions or not. I say this while quite aware that he is somebody who has never really done anything other than think and study things, and has probably never lifted an engine from a Chevy, built a stone wall, or shot a deer, and really probably knows little about life.
President Obama’s revival of an ambitious social policy agenda makes this a good time to reexamine the work of one of the most brilliant critics of the first wave: Nathan Glazer, now 88, a Harvard sociologist and one of the last of the founding generation of neoconservatives (a term often applied to him, though he has never really embraced it). In his bluntly titled 1988 book, The Limits of Social Policy, Glazer examined two decades’ worth of programs and reached a sobering conclusion: “Against the view that to every problem there is a solution, I came to believe that we can have only partial and less than wholly satisfying answers to the social problems in question. Whereas the prevailing wisdom was that social policies would make steady progress in nibbling away at the agenda of problems set by the forces of industrialization and urbanization, I came to believe that although social policy had ameliorated some of the problems we had inherited, it had also given rise to other problems no less grave in their effect on human happiness.”
What gave that conclusion special power was the intellectual journey that Glazer took to reach it.
It took Glazer a while to realize that liberty and freedom might be a better social policy than anything that the DC and Ivy brainiacs can design "for us." I could have told him that 40 years ago when I first realized that there are sick people in the world who enjoy power and control, and who have the delusion that they deserve those things because they imagine that they are smarter than I am. They are not. I want to be the master of my life.
This is one of our dwarf Cortlands today, ready to be picked but the fruit will remain good on the tree for a few weeks, at least. If we had bothered to fertilize, it would probably have doubled the fruit. I will fertilize them next year.
There is still so much good green forage in the woods and fields, and there are so many healthy wild apple trees out there, that the deer haven't bothered our domesticated apple trees a bit.
When love pushes you to fuck up your life and/or someone else’s, it’s your choice to either fight to stay in control or say, well, love is all you want, so whatever happens must be worthwhile:
I promised my wife I’d stop messing around, and I meant it, but last month I did it again and restarted an old fling. I love my wife and the last thing I want is to lose her and the kids’ respect; I’ve got a wonderful family, and I’m not some macho guy who goes cruising to pick up skanks in bars. My problem is that women have always been very attracted to me, I don’t know why, and the sex is very, very satisfying (for both of us), even when we don’t really have much of a relationship. I’m an asshole, and I can’t stop myself. What can I do?
How long does passion last before Mr. Reality enters in?
“Many people don’t realize that over geological time, we’re really in a CO2 famine now. Almost never has CO2 levels been as low as it has been in the Holocene (geologic epoch) – 280 (parts per million - ppm) – that’s unheard of. Most of the time [CO2 levels] have been at least 1000 (ppm) and it’s been quite higher than that.”
Warren, a highly respected lawyer and Harvard University professor, submitted financial disclosure reports with Congress from 2008-10 for her role at the TARP oversight panel.
She was paid more than $347,000 annually for her work at Harvard, plus another $53,428 in royalties, according to a disclosure report filed in May 2009. Warned earned more than $116,000 as a legal consultant, and other $25,000 doing research for the Consumers Union, a non-profit group in Yonkers, N.Y.
Lefties, always greedy parasites, never producing anything useful or beautiful
Most pols are sociopathic, to varying degrees. Everybody knows that. And everybody knows to ignore their lack of integrity if they like what they are doing.
We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass Or rats' feet over broken glass In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without colour, Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost Violent souls, but only As the hollow men The stuffed men.
II
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams In death's dream kingdom These do not appear: There, the eyes are Sunlight on a broken column There, is a tree swinging And voices are In the wind's singing More distant and more solemn Than a fading star.
Let me be no nearer In death's dream kingdom Let me also wear Such deliberate disguises Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves In a field Behaving as the wind behaves No nearer --
Not that final meeting In the twilight kingdom
III
This is the dead land This is cactus land Here the stone images Are raised, here they receive The supplication of a dead man's hand Under the twinkle of a fading star.
Is it like this In death's other kingdom Waking alone At the hour when we are Trembling with tenderness Lips that would kiss Form prayers to broken stone.
IV
The eyes are not here There are no eyes here In this valley of dying stars In this hollow valley This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
In this last of meeting places We grope together And avoid speech Gathered on this beach of the tumid river
Sightless, unless The eyes reappear As the perpetual star Multifoliate rose Of death's twilight kingdom The hope only Of empty men.
V
Here we go round the prickly pear Prickly pear prickly pear Here we go round the prickly pear At five o'clock in the morning.
Between the idea And the reality Between the motion And the act Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
Between the conception And the creation Between the emotion And the response Falls the Shadow
Life is very long
Between the desire And the spasm Between the potency And the existence Between the essence And the descent Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is Life is For Thine is the
This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper.
Wood stove heat, two bedrooms, and lights and a hot shower when they turn the generator on at 5 am. They serve a heck of hearty breakfast - lots of bacon, meat, eggs, pancakes, and home fries - and a tasty, simple supper. They will cook whatever you bring them from the woods. BYOB - and we do. No phone, no cell service.
Our usual hunting cabin at Bosebuck Camps, 13 miles down a rutted dirt logging road with Moosies usually trotting down it, not far from the Quebec border.
Dogs in the lodge, dining room, and on the beds, of course.
Today's toon via 
Women Outnumber Men for Doctoral Degrees
Red Cross: Obese Now Outnumber Hungry