Friday, November 27, 2009

34 Homeless, 13 Hells Angeles & One Infant

Delayed post as I've been up to my neck in a whole mess of other thing, and one massive deadline. I did my usual run on Thanksgiving. The same route as usual, except for one part through the park that is undergoing renovation.

Two things that were remarkable.

1) I found out why the Hells Angels are always in town for this day. Apparently, they donate a whole bunch of time to cook dinner for needy folks in town. They treat themselves to breakfast afterward. It's always the same cafe, for some odd reason. It's not even the best cafe in town. Must be because they are willing to put up some cones to reserve the parking spaces out front so they can ogle their bikes as they much on their scones and lattes.

2) Of all the years that I have been conducting my informal survey on the run, I've never seen a baby in the mix. This year, I saw a clump of folks, one looking much like a proud father, hoisting an infant into the air, making googly noises at the baby. There was a woman nearby, that seemed like the mother, sucking on a cigarette.

So, when it gets down to it, the numbers were not overly large, but not astonishingly small. I spotted 34 homeless, including one infant. This, again, is a low ball estimate as you never know how many I missed as you can't see every one in the clusters. I make a point to only people whom I can actually see.

There were 13 Hells Angels already gathered at the cafe. As I pushed on from there, heading home, I saw a flock of other bikers headed to the rendezvous. So, the numbers were growing there.

Well, I hope that you all had a wonderful holiday, and spend the day pushing down some grandmother on your way to some black Friday deal for some trinket you didn't really need.

Blog on friends. Blog on all.

"I Don't Want The Retarded Baby"

I don't know if I buy a whole lot of Levi Johnston's story. But when he says this;
Sarah would call Trig—who was born with Down syndrome—“my little Down’s baby.” But I couldn’t believe it when she would come over to us and sometimes say, playing around, “No, I don’t want the retarded baby—I want the other one,” and pick up Tripp. That was just her—even her kids were used to it.
That doesn't sounds like compassionate conservatism to me. Does this sound like a woman you can trust to lead anything?

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Is What Makes These Sexist? The Fact That Sweaty Palmed Masterbators Love These?

Does any one have a clue as to why Sarah Palin would consider the snapshot of her on a Newsweek cover sexist?

Could be because they are free porn from the poor mans' playboy.  Perhaps it is because images if Mrs. Palin are posted in the rooms around the US and used as brain candy for sweaty palmed masturbaters?  If the one above is a problem for Mrs. Palin, how about this one?

Or these other ones?

If you ask me, these are offensive because she may claim to be a runner, but from the looks of her, she looks more like a jogger.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

The (sex) Appeal Of Sarah Palin

I hit on it this morning. With the forthcoming Oprah "interview" (as if they didn't feed her the questions ahead of time), it seems that America cannot get enough of the Sarah Palin.

Really, the reason why folks are drawn to Mrs. Palin like bugs into the zapper boils down to sex appeal and the hope to see carnage as she explodes in public. It's much like NASCAR Fans enjoy a great race. The autos, finely tuned sexy machines are fun to watch racing round the oval. Yet secretly, the masses in the stands wish for a most spectacular wipe out where those extremely expensive, sexy automobiles splinter into pieces and spill carnage about the track.

Sadly, with a long tradition of rubber necking at automobile accidents, the American people can't seem to get enough eye candy like Sarah Palin. And so, even though Palin has lost an election, quit as a governor, stumbled over numerous extemporaneous interviews, and most certainly had some kind of help "writing" her book, it will probably sell like red fish candy to kids on their way to school after they stole some coins out of their parent's change jar.

Never mind whether you buy the book (to have and to hold), or fall prey to her version of what's spelled out inside.  We all know that for every reader who succumbs to Palin's sex appeal, they and many others are secretly hoping she spins, crashes into the wall, flames out and splinters apart in a most spectacular wipe out and we are there to witness it.

Of course, I'm not the only one who may think this:
"There is something about her which is very hard not to be drawn into," says Colin Robinson, co-publisher at OR Books, which is putting out a collection of essays pulled together by two senior editors at The Nation magazine. "It might be a sort of adoration. Or it might be that one is appalled. But you can't stop watching."
Blog on friends. Blog on all.

Monday, November 02, 2009

How To Create Better Schools? Get Better Teachers?

The fix for public schools has often swung a bat at teachers rather than for teachers. Here's another article that may be interesting to consider:
ARNE DUNCAN, the secretary of education, recently called for sweeping changes to the way we select and train teachers. He’s right. If we really want good schools, we need to create a critical mass of great teachers.
Nice sentiment, but until teachers are paid an attractive wage, I'm not certain there will be enough bait in the mix to persuade great people toward the profession.

Just compare how much Barry Bonds was getting paid to swing a bat each time he was at bat with how much teachers are paid annually and you will see what's really broken in our society. People are much more willing to shovel buckets of cash for entertainment than they are for something wholly necessary, like high quality education for every one.

The California current fiscal calamity is Q.E.D. Clearly, the good people of the great state of California have abandoned the notion of public education as a public good. If the opposite were the case, they would be willing to put their money where their mouth is.