Get on the Bus OR WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!!!

Side note – The bus marquee needs to be edited to include health care, TARP, cap & tax and any other major piece of legislation recently passed or presented to Congress.   As Rahm said (and I am paraphrasing here) – “Don’t let a good crisis go to waste!”  I guess he should have included “If you can’t find a good crisis, just create one.”

A Lee-surely Town Hall Meeting in Texas?

At a town hall meeting in Texas, Congresswoman Jackson-Lee decided it was far more important to take a call on her cell phone than listen to the question being posed to her by a cancer patient.  No big deal, you say?

Imagine this.  An EMT arrives at your home in response to a medical emergency.  A family member has suffered cardiac arrest.  As he is preparing to apply the defibrillator paddles to your loved one’s chest, his cell phone rings.  “Oops, gotta take this…Hi!…Yes, Daddy’s working….You did what?  Good girl!”  Covering the mouthpiece with his hand, he states “My daughter just pooped in the toilet for the first time!”  “Sure, honey, Daddy is listening…”

Or this.  You are anxiously awaiting the results of a biopsy you had done on a lump found in your breast.  You have had many sleepless nights wondering if you will have to undergo Chemo, have a radical mastectomy.  Each night you pray that it will come back negative for cancer.  Sitting in the Oncologist’s office waiting for the doctor is torture.  She walks in with your test results and lays them on her desk.  You feel like you are going to burst!  Then, her cell phone rings.  “Hold on, I have to take this call…Hey…Yes I had great time last night…Me, too…mmm hmm…The food was delicious.  Oh, and so were you, Doug…”

Extreme, you say?  Not at all the same as a Congresswoman taking a call during a meeting?  How about when that Congresswoman holds the future of your health care in her hands?  If this is an example of the lack of concern our elected officials have for something as important as our health, I am more afraid than I was before.  (And, Congresswoman Jackson-Lee, let me say this to you.  Honey, you can call it “multi-tasking” all you want.  I call it downright rude.)

None of it matters anyway.  The Health Care Reform bill will pass…without a vote by the citizens whose lives will be affected…just like the Stimulus bill, Cap & Trade and every other piece of crap Obama has thrown at Congress in the middle of the night.  It will go unread.  Oh, they may change a word or two to make it sound less ominous. But, it will pass.

Obama wants this, Pelosi wants this and the Democrats want this.  Like the song says “Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets…”

Air Sickness Bags are Located in the Seat Back in Front of You…

Have you noticed that things are pushed through Congress so fast that the G-forces are messing with your stomach?

You know, Barack, why don’t you just get it over with?   Why don’t you cram all your wishes, hopes and dreams (along with those of Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid) into one HUGE, “America, bend over, put your head between your legs and kiss your a** good-bye” piece of legislation.  Stop the slow trickle of agony you are putting us through.

To stand there in the Rose Garden and say “THIS WILL HAPPEN!” like some little child throwing a temper tantrum was quite unbecoming.  Why is anybody bothering to debate any bill his administration puts before Congress?   Barack says “This will happen!”

Now our benevolent government has added Landlord to their list of gifts to the unwashed.  Okay, we are taking your house away from you because unemployment in your state is through the roof and many of the jobs you can do just to get by are taken by illegal immigrants, BUT we will let you live in your house for 5 years.  Oh, gee, thanks…I think.

I think I have administration overload.  I am simply watching all of this crap being wheeled in at the last minute, unread, and voted on in 2 or 3 days.  Then I see the unemployment numbers rise, the deficit grows larger by the second, businesses closing and I wonder why?  I will ask the same question I have been asking for months…

Why are the American people not allowed to vote on our own future?

Anyone?

Computer Blues

I have downloaded the Cap & Trade bill, Health Care Reform proposal and Stimulus Bill.  My laptop sent me an email yesterday that reads as follows:

“I feel that you don’t appreciate me anymore.  You expect me to do all of the work, yet I feel that I am unappreciated.  I thought we were a team.  Now, you can’t even remember my “Back-up Files” anniversary and my “Spyware Renewal” date went by unnoticed.  What does a Compaq have to do to get your attention?  If you keep piling more on my hard drive without so much as a passing scan, I feel I will not be able to continue this relationship much longer…”

My reply was as follows:

“I am sorry you feel unappreciated.  Without you I am lost.  However, Compaq darling, since no one in Congress seems inclined to read anything other than the Net Income on their paychecks, “We the People” are left to do it alone.  Hang in there and I promise there is a full defrag, scan and back-up in our future…”

Response…

“I’ll give you one more chance. But, if the government sneaks in another bill and you download it, I’M GOING HOME TO HEWLETT PACKARD!!!!”

When a computer can’t take it anymore, you know the government has crossed the line.

Worth Repeating…

I know some of you have already read this, but in light of current events I felt it might be even more relevant today.

TWENTY-FIFTY

A short story by

Katrina

Dew had settled on the grassy meadow, reflecting the fiery orange of morning sunlight.  An ant pushed his way between the blades in search of food.  He sensed something in the distance.  It was quite cool beneath the cover of the overgrown meadow.  The earth was very soft and difficult to traverse.  Yet, the ant kept his pace and trudged onward.

Lily had been watching the determined insect for a while now.  Occasionally she would place her finger in his path to see if he would turn back, or find a new route to his destination.

Behind her stood an old farm house badly in need of repair.  The porch had sagged almost to ground level, the shutters long gone.  Tattered curtains waved from the windows in sync with the morning breeze.  Lily heard the muffled sounds of people coming to life.

She was almost always the first to awaken.  At 12, she was considered old enough to start the cooking fire and put on coffee, when the government included it in the ration packages (or “rat packs”, as most Commons called them).   The breakfast skillet was warmed on a grate next to the coals inside of the fire ring.  Most days, breakfast included liquid eggs, veecon (a tofu product formed to resemble bacon) and soft corn tortillas.  Lily did not prepare the meal.  That chore was left to her older brother, Lyle.

“How long you been up?”, her mother asked as she walked toward the fire ring.

“Oh, about an hour or so.  The ants were in our cooler box again.”

“Damn!  Did they ruin anything?”

“Nope.  Got ‘em before they could do much harm.  Wish we could find a better spot for the food, Mom.  Why don’t we put it in the house?”

Her mother sighed and looked to the sky.  “Lily, I TOLD you if we put it inside, the ants will be INSIDE.  I don’t particularly like sleeping with ants, do you?”

“No.  I just hate fightin’ ‘em every day.  It gets to be a real pain.”  She reached into the cooler box and retrieved a glass bottle containing their weekly supply of soy milk.

Lily was not old enough to know the taste of cow’s milk.  As a matter of fact, the only cows she had ever seen were in picture books.  That might not have been so odd if she lived in a big city, but she did not.  Lily lived on her Grampa’s old dairy farm.  Thirty-five years ago it was the Number One dairy in the state.  Their milk was distributed all over the country.

Then  came the Great American Clean-up.  In Two Thousand Fifteen, the Government mandated zero-methane output nationwide.  Cows, pigs, sheep and other “ranch animals” were rounded up and sold to Canada or Mexico.  Meat products were purchased from those countries, if you could afford them.

The Clean-up ruined her Grampa financially.  The only reason they still had a house to live in was that a parcel of the dairy farm had been paid off long ago and her Grampa had never borrowed against it.  He was “asked” to do the Patriotic thing and donate the balance of his land to the “Corn Co-Operative”.

Fossil fuels were available only to the Protectors, Techies or the Government.  The traditional Military had been dismantled in Twenty-twenty and replaced with an organization consisting of former members of some of the larger private security firms.  The borders were policed remotely via monitors, only a few actual Protectors were needed to respond to escape alerts put out by the Techies.  America no longer sent troops to foreign lands.  The largest national security issue was citizens who wanted to leave without special permission or a work Visa.

Windmills crowded the landscapes from Coast to Coast.  Solar panels popped up like ugly dandelions.  Television and radio were obsolete, as were laptops and PC’s.  All communication was regulated by the Fairness Commission and transmitted via cell phones.  Every citizen was issued a phone when they turned 5-years-old.  It was to be carried with you at all times.

Lily did not attend school.  She had Vid-Ed for 4 hours every day.  The Education Commission had been nationalized and all children received the same education in every part of the country.

Lyle called the family to breakfast and they gathered around the picnic table to eat.  This was Lily’s favorite time of day.  Sometimes, Grampa would tell stories of the days when he would attend automobile races with his father.  Or when he went to a place called Iraq so that America could be safe.  He spoke of the 50 states that made up his country.  Alaska had long since become a nation unto itself, and Hawaii had been lost to North Korea in Twenty-Ten.

Three other states – Michigan, Maine and Washington – had been traded to Canada for gold.  California became a part of Mexico in a deal with the Mexican Government that was never clearly explained.  “No one cared”, said Grampa.  “They were a pain in the ass anyway.”

“Good Lord, Dad!” said Lily’s mom.  Suddenly, a large hand clamped over her mouth.  It was Lily’s father.  He held his wife close and whispered in her ear, “Do you want to go to jail, Susan?”

He loosened his grip and Susan took a deep breath.  “It just comes out sometimes.  I mean, it’s just a saying.  I wasn’t, you know, praying or anything.”

“We don’t want to take any chances, Susan.  So far, we have been left alone.  I don’t want to risk that.”  He reached for her and held her tightly.  “I’m sorry.  I love you.”

Soon, it was time for Vid-Ed to begin.  Lily’s father, grandfather and brother left to work in the Corn Co-Op.  Their hybrid hummed as it went down the dirt road and disappeared into the horizon.  Her mother retrieved some water from the rain catcher and began to clean the breakfast dishes.

Lily moved to her makeshift desk on the far end of the porch and turned on her phone.  Class began with a salute to the New America as a circular sunrise over a red, white and blue horizon appeared on the screen…