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Homo moronicus maximus

It’s called devolution, folks.

May you not devolve, mliswilltravel

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Reflections of a Rock Caddy

Well, I am out and about, which is something I almost always enjoy. I have eaten apples and pears right off the tree, breathed some different airs, and drunk some different waters. I am now sitting at my first computer in a couple weeks, and I can’t say that I have missed it a bit. Being out of touch and doing nothing are in my wheelhouse these days, and it feels mitey fine.

I would like to do many things, and be able to do many more. Make a barrel. Make a wooden spoked wheel. Blacksmithing. Along these lines, I have never made nor repaired a stone wall, and I recently had the opportunity to assist in such. The one thing I want to point out is that in order for wall making to proceed, there have to be enough stones to cover the job, and they have to be of great enough variety in order to have something to choose among. Just sayin.

Thus, rock caddy consists of digging out the stones and toting them to the site of construction and repair. Rocks are heavy, for the most part, and while I have handled some tephra/pumice that does not qualify as heavy, what I was caddying was heavy. At this point I am equipped to foot, found, and start a stone wall or column with some assurance that it would stand, but I will be sure that I have enough stone to proceed and complete the project because scavenging is not the way to go.

Have just recently learned that Eugene Garfield died [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eugene_Garfield], and want to tip my hat in his direction. Garfield was a founder in bibliometrics, and the tools one uses these days in order to trace and track citation histories are of his making and refinement. He put the tools to find and follow fellow investigators at scientists’ fingertips, and helped condense clouds of scientific literature to clear and digestible shots of distilled knowledge. Yay, Eugene!

Yay, scientists and librarians who persevere, mliswilltravel.

How welcome would you feel?

Sunset over the Catskills:

Kissed by a hummingbird

There I was, putting a window-mounted hummer feeder back in its rightful place after it was drained in a 24 hour period. Little hummer lit on a perch while my hand was still on the feeder, so I froze and let it feed. It reached out a tentative tongue to sample my little finger, and then went back to nectar. I will take this sort of blessing, and I thank Nature for it. Yay!

I have held a hummer that was too cold to move in my hand before. There is nothing there. No discernible weight at all, and when the one in my hand revived and buzzed off, I was gobsmacked just like I am now. These little mites migrate to South and Central America about now, and return in the April window most years. Big job, little critters. Feed them up for the journey, please.

Again, yay, mliswilltravel

Can’t make it here, anymore

James McMurtry Lyrics

“We Can’t Make It Here”

Vietnam Vet with a cardboard sign
Sitting there by the left turn line
Flag on the wheelchair flapping in the breeze
One leg missing, both hands free
No one’s paying much mind to him
The V.A. budget’s stretched so thin
And there’s more comin’ home from the Mideast war
We can’t make it here anymore

That big ol’ building was the textile mill
It fed our kids and it paid our bills
But they turned us out and they closed the doors
We can’t make it here anymore

See all those pallets piled up on the loading dock
They’re just gonna set there till they rot
‘Cause there’s nothing to ship, nothing to pack
Just busted concrete and rusted tracks
Empty storefronts around the square
There’s a needle in the gutter and glass everywhere
You don’t come down here ‘less you’re looking to score
We can’t make it here anymore

The bar’s still open but man it’s slow
The tip jar’s light and the register’s low
The bartender don’t have much to say
The regular crowd gets thinner each day

Some have maxed out all their credit cards
Some are working two jobs and living in cars
Minimum wage won’t pay for a roof, won’t pay for a drink
If you gotta have proof just try it yourself Mr. CEO
See how far 5.15 an hour will go
Take a part time job at one of your stores
Bet you can’t make it here anymore

High school girl with a bourgeois dream
Just like the pictures in the magazine
She found on the floor of the laundromat
A woman with kids can forget all that
If she comes up pregnant what’ll she do
Forget the career, forget about school
Can she live on faith? live on hope?
High on Jesus or hooked on dope
When it’s way too late to just say no
You can’t make it here anymore

Now I’m stocking shirts in the Wal-Mart store
Just like the ones we made before
‘Cept this one came from Singapore
I guess we can’t make it here anymore

Should I hate a people for the shade of their skin
Or the shape of their eyes or the shape I’m in
Should I hate ’em for having our jobs today
No I hate the men sent the jobs away
I can see them all now, they haunt my dreams
All lily white and squeaky clean
They’ve never known want, they’ll never know need
Their shit don’t stink and their kids won’t bleed
Their kids won’t bleed in the damn little war
And we can’t make it here anymore

Will work for food
Will die for oil
Will kill for power and to us the spoils
The billionaires get to pay less tax
The working poor get to fall through the cracks
Let ’em eat jellybeans let ’em eat cake
Let ’em eat shit, whatever it takes
They can join the Air Force, or join the Corps
If they can’t make it here anymore

And that’s how it is
That’s what we got
If the president wants to admit it or not
You can read it in the paper
Read it on the wall
Hear it on the wind
If you’re listening at all
Get out of that limo
Look us in the eye
Call us on the cell phone
Tell us all why

In Dayton, Ohio
Or Portland, Maine
Or a cotton gin out on the great high plains
That’s done closed down along with the school
And the hospital and the swimming pool
Dust devils dance in the noonday heat
There’s rats in the alley
And trash in the street
Gang graffiti on a boxcar door
We can’t make it here anymore

In defense of the ACLU

I have been a member of the American Civil Liberties Union since the 1990s, and I came to the ACLU because they were defending the KKK and their right to march in public places. My reasoning was that we want such aberrant folks marching in public to remind the rest of us that such fringe groups exist, they live among us, and one way or another, they will be heard. Which would you prefer, KKK and Nazi cells plotting against us free thinkers in secret and springing upon us when we least expect it, or promoting their aberrant views freely in public? I prefer the public airing of any point of view, no matter how repulsive some folks may find these points of view. Just sayin.

I am not in favor of our future being a rehash of the past. I am not in favor of divisive politics, ginned up for the convenience of folks who can make money on such divisions. I want to run all of the current idiots out of office, and elect forward thinking folks who can handle the future for the benefit of all, not just the one percent. I want to run the private health insurers out of business as proper recompense for their decades of hosing rate payers—and reaping huge profits at the expense of policy holders who never get the quality wellness and health care they deserve. Single payer? Of course. Private insurers? They have demonstrated that they have no interest in our health and well-being; their interests center only upon our wallets.

So, let the KKK march, support the ACLU, and keep you and yours safe and loved. Vote against hate and division. Vote for Medicare for all, and don’t let those who will never pay another insurance premium in their lives (Congress) interfere in your right to enjoy life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Just sayin, mliswilltravel.

Anticipating the Dark

Idaho Eclipse t-shirts:

OOOOOPS!!

I was wrong. Again. Tweet doubles down on his ignorance and blowhardiness.

Ike Eisenhower warned us against this downward spiral, but did not live to see Nixon, his least favorite son in law, impeached. If Richard Nixon had died in prison the way he should have, I think we would be in a much different place. Nixon in prison means no rapprochement with China on their terms instead of ours. Jimmy Carter and his stand on human rights would not have been backstabbed by his own advisors, Wall Street, and the big banks. Two terms of Carter would have been fine on Carter’s terms, with the USA actually providing leadership in a strange and growing stranger world, short circuiting Muslim radicalization. Reagan, who could hit his mark and say his lines (barely), likely would not have been elected—and Reagan’s disastrous move toward private contractors taking over the business of the military would not be in place. We would have a larger trained, standing army to facilitate nation building, and fewer overpaid contractors mucking up policy and practice, lo these many years. George HW Bush might not have had to toe the line with Saddam, and his sock puppet son “The W” would not have had a chance. We could have avoided Bill Clinton, too, with tech advances perhaps not ending in a profit-taking bubble. Can you imagine crooks being afraid to ever enter into credit default swaps, simply because they would go to jail in this brave, imagined world. Just sayin. Not too late.

To let Donald Tweet Trump get away with his current idiocy is to further degrade an already degraded republic, and tantamount to letting Richard Nixon get away with it—-again. We need to demonstrate that we have the capacity to learn. Any idiot can double down with other folks’ blood or money, and we have just such an idiot as temporary resident in the White House. We deserve better. Write Paul Ryan at Contact and let him know your wishes.

Peace and integrity, somehow or other, mliswilltravel.

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