The bubble machine
The bubble machine worked to well, at the peace rally I put it on the top of my pickup and turned it on and for fifteen minutes it literally rained bubbles. Millions of them (seems like). So I had to remove two of the wands and do some other tinkering to calm it down. But all in all, it's pretty darn cool. :-)
Phil Ochs was a U.S. protest singer back in the sixty’s. At the peace rally a few weeks back Ric played a tape by him. One song was about nuclear war, it was very interesting. I mentioned this at a ladies blog and another lady asked me to try to find out who it was.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phil_Ochs
I don’t know the name of the song but here is a collection of most of his lyrics, although I don’t see the lyrics of that song in there. I haven’t been able to talk to Ric to ask him the name of it. He wrote some interesting songs though.
http://web.cecs.pdx.edu/~trent/ochs/lyrics.html
More on compassion
There is only so much compassion in any one person. One soul just can’t have compassion for every cause, every problem, it would put them in a straight jacket. So I choose my compassion’s. I choose to fret over thirty thousand people dying of starvation everyday, or all those getting killed in wars. Most of them are real victims of the greed of others. The people of New Orleans are only victims in the sense that they are victims of their own stubbornness and stupidity for insisting on living in a place they shouldn’t be living. I won’t allow anyone to slight me on my thinking, Einstein would have thought the same, think higher people.
There is an idiot in my village, no, besides me you idiot. Hell, I’m just your average run of the mill idiot like the rest of you. No way you say, tell us it isn’t true. Sigh, but it is true, this man is a real nut case, much like the one in your village I suppose. No, I don’t mean you, but if the shoe fits…..
Writing about the village idiot isn't working for me. Trying to put it all down in a well integrated and understandable way in text is just making my head hurt. So here is all I have to say about him.
This man has always been a few bubbles off of plumb it seems, and many things make him paranoid. For example, not long after meeting him he mentioned that he would like to learn to use computers. Being as he is around sixty I didn’t think that was a bad idea so I took him one of my extra ones so he could at least do some word processing as he reads and writes a lot. I don’t recall the exact chain of events, certainly not from his point of view anyway, but he soon decided that I had rigged the computer to watch him in his room, because of something I had said to him in an email as I recall. Hell, it wasn’t even hooked up to a phone line, I had taken him to the library and taught him how to use the Internet and Yahoo email there.
Soon it was requested that I come and get my computer out of his place. Well, his Mommies place as he still lives with her. And his Daddy of course, but his Daddy thinks that he is an idiot so I don’t think they get along so well. When I got there to pick it up he had it unplugged, and a towel was draped over the monitor so that it couldn’t spy on him. I thought it was rather amusing.
He reads everything, from the study of all the religions and politics, to all the conspiracy stories and theories. Actually, reading so much is his whole downfall. His brain no longer belongs to him, it is just a big confused mess. Einstein was right, at some point in time you have to stop reading and start thinking for yourself.
He thinks that he has become educated and is super intelligent, where the rest of us are just idiots. He has become so damn smart that he works in a pizza parlor, being above any skilled jobs ya know. And I’ll just bet that he often thinks his employer and half of the crew is plotting against him. Sabotaging things to make him look bad and cause more work for him, that’s what happened at the last job.
He thinks that he is the one with the plan that is going to save the world, but you will never hear from him. Well, I suppose that you know a man like him in your village. Have a good evening all. BBC
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3 comments:
Playing Devil's Advocate here, but...
I am a bit intrigued about this idea of land that should never have had houses. I'm not convinced a homeowner down the 9th Ward who's third generation in a house is interested in us white folks opinions, especially those from the Northwest. If your great gramma lived there, it's your home.
Until 2002, I've lived my life in Arkansas and South Texas, where there are a LOT of black folks. Some po', some rich, most just going to work every day just like arybody else. I've also watched this country FEMA waterfront vacation homes repeatedly. Maybe we could take a note from Holland on the feasibility of living below sea level, and focus our green ire on the killing of the wetlands surrounding N'Awllins
It is historical the dark folk get the worst land in our country, along with the worst jobs, and etcetra. I understand the argument, but just cannot fault people for the history foisted upon them.
Pardon my Francois, but if your family home, your aunts and uncles, granbabies and community gets washed away, what's a nigga supposed to do?
It helps if you've ever known the climate, not only social, but physical as well. I'd rather deal with a rock-n-roll storm, tornadoes and all, than suggest anyone third, fouth, or eighth generation legacy "shouldn't have been there in the first place".
New Orleans was old when Seattle didn't exist...the people staking claim in 9th Ward were building their first homes while Seattle was sloughing off Denny Hill to create Interbay and the land the stadiums sit on. And we are overdue for earthquake.
Bitch all you want about FEMA subsidizing rebuilding vacation homes with waterfront views. They can spend my tax dollars rebuilding inland communities.
sign me
blue eyed devil
ha ha! great story about the village idiot. I didn't read the other stuff.
We don't have any one here like that. But there is this one lady about 70(?)years old that dresses like a hooker all shiny & spangley. With lots of red lipstick & blue or green eyeshadow. but, she wears a diaper.
She doesn't say much but, "How ya doing?" & "You know what I mean?"
She walks up & down the middle of town & waggles her fingers does wierd things with her mouth.
Once we gave her a ride when she was hitch-hiking & she smelled like vomit.
What's funny is that every one in town knows her because her family has been around here for generations. It's a fond affection/repulsion relationship between her & us.
The bakery decided to ban her because she smelled so bad. She'd hang around the door & we'd go in & get her donuts. People started getting pissed off because they wouldn't let her in & it was so pitiful. Finally they relented but she has to sit in the back by the bathrooms.
some day she'll die & we will weep & cry & talk about what a good person she was deep down. But, as for now we don't let her in our houses.
L>T ... Cute story about the lady.
Delta Dawn, what's that flower you have on.... Is it a faded rose from days gone by?
LOL
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