Monday, January 23, 2012

Roadside Ramblings/Seasoning-spice Update and Correction

The smoked hot paprika from Spain is really not that hot when cooked into things. Take it straight and it is. Cook it into Grandma Ballistic's hundred year old recipe for potato extravaganza instead of using regular paprika, and it is quite the thing.

I've noticed more and more in my travels that the hip thing to do in traffic law enforcement is to threaten double fines. At first you think, "OK, workers are in danger so they are out to ensure their safety".

Then you realize that the last five double-fine work zones have consisted of a couple of orange signs, maybe one giving a reduced speed limit, but no work, no workers, nothing. Just a few miles of harassment and paranoia.

Then there are the "Safety Zones", which sometimes have a slightly different name. "Safety Zone Next 20 Miles, Fines Doubled. Drive Carefully." Oh shit!, I better be safe and careful for a change. Time to quit driving with my toes from the back seat. It never occurred to me to drive carefully at 70 or 80 miles per hour. If they hadn't told me, I'd have gone on driving without care, concern or attention.

It's always a relief to get back into the unsafe zone where all hell breaks loose and everyone goes back to watching tv, texting, having sex, and blogging as the drive. And where the fines are only one time as bad instead of double the trouble.

Now I'm seeing that "fines doubled" thing on side roads which have a 40 mph speed limit, and the same fake work not going on.

I guess they want money and want to be able to extort it at will. My thinking is, "Do I really want to give money to an outfit that does business this way? NO!!!!"

How we became a culture that not only accepts, but often encourages, this kind of big brother, police state mentality is beyond me. I guess people look around and think others are idiots who need heavy handed guidance. But they fail to consider who it is that sits in judgement and pulls the strings---often those with no moral compass or good judgement whatsoever. Often just thugs who missed getting drafted by the Mafia.

I guess a safety zone is a nice way of announcing an extended speed trap, and possible venue for random searches and the like.
If only people here and elsewhere were not so damned afraid of freedom. I believe it is partly their fear that makes them need this kind of parenting as adults. It is strange.

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Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
Like spring on a summer's day


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