Monday, May 31, 2010

The graduation speech I'd LIKE to hear. . .

After sitting through the umteenth graduation speech of my long life by preppy shallow minded valedictorians, class presidents, high school principles and honored guests I thought this might be a nice change of pace and a little touch of reality. . .

Welcome all you parents of these graduates and congratulations to all my fellow graduates.
I know that for some of you, graduating from high school isn’t that big a deal. I saw you walking out of all those advanced science, math and english classes pulling down As one right after another. You were big time athletes, class officers, cheerleaders and in other positions of high esteem that most of us sitting here today couldn’t have imagined. For us, this didn’t come easy. It was a monumental struggle for me to finish up my math requirement and writing that term paper in grammar and composition was nearly impossible. I suspect my teacher felt sorry for me when she gave me that C and passed me. Almost every other class was a struggle except for those few that catered to my ADHD and general lack of self esteem and my negative self perceptions.
I know my friend over there in the back sitting uncomfortably between the beauty queen and the star soccer player also worked hard to get where he’s at today. He went home every day to the three room apartment that he, his mother and two younger sisters share on the third floor of their low rent tenement over on THAT side of town. During his junior and senior year he had to be at work everyday after school at 5 o’clock and didn’t get off until 10. His mother’s minimum wage job just didn’t cover all the basic expenses let alone the bare needs of he and his two school aged sisters.
Remember all those black eyes and bruises I used to come to school with and claim were from getting into fights? Well, the fights were with my older brother and father. I was greatly relieved when they left our house last year and my mom and I got some peace and was able to give my mother the money from my early morning paper route rather than have my father steal it for booze.
I do want to thank that one teacher who always encouraged me and pushed me to get this thing done. She was dedicated to seeing that I and some of my friends didn’t get lost in the cracks. Her words were like life preservers that kept me afloat at times when I thought I just couldn’t take it anymore. As for the asst. principle and principle who badgered me and gave me unmerciful hell every damn time we crossed paths. . . “Fuck you.” I made it despite your pissy attitude and what seemed like your personal vendetta against me. And all you teachers who swept me under the rug and offered none of your time and effort: well, it’s easy to understand how attractive it is to focus on those star players. I guess we all do it on some level, but geez, couldn’t you just once have taken a student like me aside and given me a few worlds of encouragement and offered your support and help? It would have meant the world to me and provided me with inspiration for weeks. But no, you were too caught up in your own little world to concern yourself with me and my friends. You called us slackers, trouble makers and other not so flattering labels. So to you I say “fuck you too.” Again, I made it against the odds you stacked against me.
I know that for many of you teachers and administrators it is much easier for you to relate to the middle and upper class preppy star students than it is for you to relate to those of us who come from more humble places. You were probably star students yourself and came from places much more similar to those prep kids you catered to.
So let me leave you with this: I made it and my friend over there in the back made it, but for every one of us who did, there were a bunch who didn’t. They got pregnant without any options, had to get jobs and some just gave up sometime between jr hi and today and you never saw or thought of them again. . . hell, you hardly noticed those of us who stayed and struggled. I know it didn’t seem to you like we were struggling. It seemed to you like we were slacking. . . I know, because you told me that at least once a day, but rest assured, I picked and clawed my way to this high school degree today, with pain and tears and exasperations that you can’t imagine. So please, next time you are ready to dismiss some snotty underclass punk as a slacker or a trouble maker, stop and think about what he might be going through. Have some compassion.
When I walk out of here tonight I will start a new life just as sure as that star sitting up there on the stage who just delivered that prepackaged shallow speech untainted by the slightest bit of real life experience, but I won’t be going to an Ivy league school in the fall or be on a full ride athletic or academic scholarship to any university. There won’t be any post graduation vacation to the beach or Disney World before I enter engineering or premed. No, I’m going to have to go out and get a full-time job tomorrow, but in the fall I’m hoping I’ll be able to begin taking classes at the local Jr. College. You see, I have this impossible dream to be the first one in my family to get a college degree. I know it’s not very likely and if I do it will take me many more years of struggle, but I can still hold onto that hope.
So my thanks to all those who gave me any help in this achievement. And to those of you who treated me like the underclass low rate person that I’ve always felt like I am, “fuck you and go to hell.” From this day forward I’m going to begin feeling good about myself despite the actions of scumbags like you.

When your worse nightmare comes true.. . .

Remember those who want to drill all over our off-shore areas and the ones who exclaimed "drill baby drill."
Fuck those short sighted morons. For the past four decades environmentalists have been saying thiscould happen and it would be a horrible tragedy while the oil companies have been assuring us that such could never be the case and their little whore politicians on the left and right have been nodding their heads in agreement like little bobble head dolls.
When are the ignorant sleeping proles going to wake up and QUIT BELIEVING these lying corpo-fascist fucks?
YOU! The stupid fuck who has been voting for corpo-fascist republican liars for the past three decades! You are as guilty in this disaster as anyone. FUCK ALL YOU DUMB PROLES!

Relief for Gulf is 2 months away with another well

By MATTHEW BROWN, Associated Press Writer Matthew Brown, Associated Press Writer – 22 mins ago

NEW ORLEANS – The best hope for stopping the flow of oil from the blown-out well at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico has been compared to hitting a target the size of a dinner plate with a drill more than two miles into the earth, and is anything but a sure bet on the first attempt.

Bid after bid has failed to stanch what has already become the nation's worst-ever spill, and BP PLC is readying another attempt as early as Wednesday, this one a cut-and-cap process to put a lid on the leaking wellhead so oil can be siphoned to the surface.

But the best-case scenario of sealing the leak is two relief wells being drilled diagonally into the gushing well — tricky business that won't be ready until August.

Friday, May 14, 2010

That Horrible Feeling. . .

You know the feeling. . . remember the last time you smashed something with your car, or someone smashed you? Or when you know you're going to hit and there's nothing you can do about it but hang on and hope for the best?

Imagine how this guy felt. . . knowing he was going to hit that boulder. . . then knowing he was going to derail. . . then knowing he was going to go sliding down that embankment and go swimming with a 5000HP, 150 ton locomotive up his ass. . . talk about something to have occupational post traumatic stress over. . . the horror.

Friday, May 7, 2010

Great piece by Red Neck Liberal

Great job Herb, and spot on.

We're not in a war. If we were, it would be a war against mental illness.

Every time a terrorist incident breaks, I can't help feeling I'm being sold a dud bill of goods by the media and those on the right so eager to stoke up the "War on Terror".

Whether it's horrors like Oklahoma or Fort Hood perpetrated by home-grown wackjobs, or Taliban wannabes trying to blow up Times Square, it's not war. It's just the unhinged rage of crazy guys wreaking 'revenge' on society.

Terrorists might convince themselves and others they're on ideological missions. They may even hook up with full-blown terror groups - those various ethnic crime syndicates with political or religious back-stories - to feel all self-righteous. But on a personal level, they're just acting out mental breakdowns. So for us to prattle witlessly about war like there's some vast army marching on America is redundant bullsh*t. It doesn't get anyone anywhere... aside from boosting cable news ratings and conservative approval numbers.

A cursory glance at the life of Times Square bomber Faisal Shahzad shows that he fits the usual profile:

1. Rich brat with an education
2. Unlucky in life (i.e., wife left him, house foreclosed, etc.)
3. Went radical because he was mad with society and looking for a cause to legitimize his anger

Shahzad's is the life story of almost every dangerous loon who's ever raised a hand against us as a society. From Ted Kazinsky through Osama bin Laden, from Timothy McVeigh to the ill-fated underpants bomber... they all have so much in common they could date on eHarmony.

So can't we ask constructive questions about how we contain our alienated, angry nutjobs instead of talking about a war on terror that's nothing more than political and media hype?

Terrorism = mental health issues writ large and we ignore them at our peril. But we do because we don't like hard problems. Better to just declare a war where everything is black and white, us v. them, no thought required.

More lies and cover-ups

This is a BIG pile of bullshit.
1. Massey DOES NOT want these "interviews" public. They want to continue lying and covering up the truth. To do so they can't let this farse of an investigation get too public.
2. The gov't doesn't want the public to see how they are playing softball with these mining companies and letting them do whatever the fuck they want.
3. Obama seems to be complicit in this little act when he says there would be a "series of public events" that would "bolster transparency and openness."

Meet the new boss, same as the old boss. . .

MSHA mine disaster interviews to be closed to public

By Ken Ward Jr.
Staff writer

CHARLESTON, W.Va. -- Federal investigators will conduct key portions of their probe of the Upper Big Banch Mine disaster behind closed doors, but will plan a series of public events the Obama administration said would "bolster transparency and openness."

The announcement Thursday by Labor Secretary Hilda Solis drew harsh criticism from the United Mine Workers union, mine owner Massey Energy and families of miners killed in the April 5 explosion.

"People from all sides of this issue in the coalfields want this investigation to be fully and completely open," said UMW President Cecil Roberts. "The families of the victims do, the UMW does, the media does, and even the company said it does.

"The only people who don't want this to be completely open are the government agencies, and that, frankly, continues a bad practice that we expected would change under this administration," Roberts said.

Massey said the U.S. Mine Safety and Health Administration "is choosing to repeat past mistakes by refusing due process and failing to build the public's confidence that the hearings will be fair and develop a complete and balanced public record."

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Blair Debassige

I've got some really nice new pictures of Blair's work that I'm going to post when I get a chance, but here's a starter. . . his "artist's statement that he wrote a couple years ago.

Ok, and this:

Blair Debassige is an artist from the M’Chigeeng First Nation on Manitoulin Island, Ontario. His lineage is Ojibwe Bear Clan. Blair is 44 years old. His work has been featured in magazines and in documentary films and television specials in North America and Europe, and has been sold to private collectors all over the world. Permanent collections include former Prime Minister, Jean Chretien, the Department of Indian Affairs and Arts Council of Canada, the Royal Ontario Museum, and the Vatican in Rome. Blair paints with acrylics and oil on canvas, and over the years has expanded to other mediums such as birch bark, rawhide, arch paper, shields, drums, and bone breast plates.

Blair’s art is rooted in the Ojibwe legends he grew up with, and in the language, itself, which is rich with symbolism. Spiritual integrity is intrinsic to Blair’s work. Painting is his way of paying homage to the spirit world, the traditions and voices of his people. In turn, his wish is that his painting will give those voices shape, color and form.

“I paint what is known as Woodland style, but with my own unique sense of color, content and form. My approach to painting is continually evolving as I grow into maturity both as an artist and a man. My paintings express not only my traditions and oral teachings, but sacred symbols and archetypes found in ancient cultures the world over. My painting is a form of lucid dreaming where content and form meld with unconscious forces. Perhaps these are forces of nature, or they are ancient symbols embedded in the human psyche, or simply fragments of dreams. Regardless of their source, they offer viewers a doorway into mythic space where all people are one, and all human striving is toward union with the Creator…Art lifts a veil between what we perceive as ‘real’, and what is truly real. True art is luminous.”

Bold, rich and uncompromising colors accent Blair’s vision and reputation as a painter. He often paints outside, overshadowed by cedar trees and accompanied by the pounding of waves on the shore. Despite countless invitations to tour his work overseas, Blair rarely leaves his home in M’Chigeeng. Instead, the artist declares that he puts himself into every one of his paintings – so that, no matter where the paintings end up – he can look out through them, into the world.

I can sum it up Blairs art in one 4 word sentence. . . Blair paints mythic space.

This too shall pass. . .

A few weeks ago everyone was all torqued out over the miners who died at the Massey Energy mine in WV. Oh how they were crying for heads and screaming for justice. Politicians were standing before microphones and getting all big and declaring that someone was going to take responsibility and they wouldn't get away with this one.

Now, a few weeks later it is exactly the way I predicted it would be. . . the Massey CEO Donald Blankenshit has plastered his face all over the media with deep, insightful interviews about how it wasn't really Massey's fault and how ttihey would do everything possible to fix anything that might have done wrong. The policians went back to the trough. Business as usual.

Now, a few weeks later, we have BP doing the same thing out in the Gulf of Mexico. They have destroyed hundreds of miles of sea coast and millions of square miles of sea bed. It will destroy the lives of thousands of coastal people.
Watch closely while they duck and slide and pass the buck. The politicians are already making excuses even though a few days ago they were doing the blustery dance of indignance that they like to do at such opportunities for public performance. In a few weeks it will be business as usual.

YOU, the American people are owned by big oil and the energy companies. They have you by the balls and you seem to like it. You fucking proles. . .

Monday, May 3, 2010

Another great one passes

I've read most of the Apollo era astronaut biographies and I've read nothing but praise for Gunther Wendt, "the pad fuhrer."
He was a very personable and extremely efficient manager of the white room.
A great man who earned his place in history.

Guenter Wendt, 85, 'Pad Leader' for NASA's Moon Missions, Dies – Mon May 3, 4:15 pm ET

Guenter Wendt, the original pad leader for NASA's manned space program and the last man the Apollo astronauts saw before launching to the moon, died at his home in Merritt Island, Fla., Monday. Wendt, 85, was hospitalized for congestive heart failure and then suffered a stroke.

Reporting to Cape Canaveral as a McDonnell Aircraft Corp. engineer working on missile projects soon after gaining his American citizenship in 1955, Wendt, who was born and educated in Berlin, became part of the effort to launch the first U.S. astronauts into space.

As pad leader – or "pad f├╝hrer" as the astronauts came to affectionately call him due to his strong German accent and unwavering rules – Wendt oversaw the spacecraft on the launch pads and all who had access to them to ensure the safety of all those involved.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Dumb fuck proles

Yup, the dumb fuck proles will probably put these ass wipes back in office.
It's inevitable.

GOP expands political playing field; Dems slipping

By LIZ SIDOTI, AP National Political Writer Liz Sidoti, Ap National Political Writer – Sun May 2, 9:36 am ET

WASHINGTON – Republicans are on offense in scores of House and Senate races as persistent economic woes and lukewarm support for President Barack Obama continue to weaken Democrats' hold on Congress.