Mosque Schmosque

It is interesting and somewhat nauseating to see this mosque in NY drama unfold. I see very little of use in 99% of the discussions on the subject I've had the displeasure of hearing or reading.

First and foremost it is the business of that community. Use whatever rationale you want, it is not a federal issue. People wanted Obama to weigh in on the alleged issue, and now there are even cries for George Bush to get involved. This is nothing but part of the smoke screen for things that have become federal matters, whether the feds have any right in those matters or not.

I'll bet more definite info is known on the mosque fiasco than on the health bill. I took the trouble to find out more than most people, and I still can't grasp the full scope of that bill. It certainly doesn't do what was claimed. Ever notice how they sell legislation beginning their spiel with the words, "what this bill will do..", rather than "what this bill specifically states is:..."?

Major news has forever reported everything with the conclusion that "much needed legislation" or "more regulation" must be enacted. People bought it and now wonder why things are so out of joint that you can't actually make a statement of naked truth or honest opinion without winding up in hot water. Bizarre times, and some are more equal than others even though we are all equal.

It is a matter for New Yorkers to deal with. If zoning variances are involved then they ought to to deal with it. This is where the zoning game comes back to bite. Forever they manage to change zoning for preferred customers at the expense of those who buy into an area with certain understandings in place. People have allowed it, and continued to elect the slimy grub worms who work the system. Now it may be happening in a way they don't like. Work it out NY. It is beyond my jurisdiction.

Would I want it next to my business? Unless I was selling something they would buy like crazy, No, I would not. If they did that loud speaker call to prayer action, and the city did not have the sense to see that as overstepping, I'd arrange to get the speakers disabled mysteriously.

Another case of pretense, all around. No question that this is not a center to celebrate the freedoms we once revered, or a gesture of peace and understanding. It is a way to screw with the culture, and it has worked. They may have never really intended to build anything. We shall see. It should have been but a blip on the radar and no more than that.

Once again, an issue that is not the proper purview of the national government becomes a big damned deal on both sides. I don't respect that. Whether you like the idea or not, it is irrelevant unless you live there, and even then, you have to have some legitimate stance before it holds water. Personal preference and even the knowledge that the guy behind it has an ugly agenda won't carry a case. I think scrutiny regarding the zoning would be the first place to look. Trying to force the issue based on emotion and gut feeling is a tactic that can come back to haunt you. Don't do it.

I'd park my stand out front that sells bacon burgers, and offers strippers for your bar mitzvah if I was really displeased.

Or ignore it as long as no lines were crossed. Religions of peace are tough to find. I certainly don't think these boys represent one of those. But to each his own, just don't be making your crazy ass rules the law of the land or looking for special treatment. that goes for any religion.

At the Track

Del Mar is a fairly spiffy horse racing venue. It is a good place to be when you want to turn the phone off and leave it in the glove box, which I did.

Betting is stupid if you don't have money to burn. That did not stop me, even though I don't know how a lot of the tri, bi or homo fectas work. I placed simpler wagers, and most likely cheaper. Won one and should have stopped; $16 ahead. In the end I probably lost about that much, but who keeps track? I approximate in these situations. No need to be too specific with debits and credits when you know the odds are against you.

Any time the venue you are in can afford better landscaping and upkeep than you can at home, there is a reason for it. The reason is that the house is set up scientifically to win most of the time. Why else would they bother to be there? Why would anyone be a bookie if the odds were unfavorable? In this case, Del Mar is the bookie.

I enjoy the races as much without betting but I can see how you could get the bug; you like horse #9, M'Lady's Toosh, you don't bet, M'Lady's Toosh leaves the field agasp, winning solidly. If only I'd wagered the farm on that filly. Don't be fooled. M'Lady's Toosh will lead you to ruin.



Jockeys must work hard on race day. Every race a different horse that they may have never seen. One horse bucked a jockey off in warm up. He got back on and came in 3rd or 4th so I guess they came to some sort of understanding. At Del Mar, judging from the names, Mexico produces the lion's share of riders. What I think is that somewhere in Mexico they are binding children at birth to ensure the child can find work at the track. They are to people what bonsai plants are to the world of horticulture. I hope it doesn't hurt.

Later they have a band play. In this case a latin fusion band I wanted to see. Great stage, insanely cramped area for viewing. It is a standing room only, no where to sit area, cordoned off so that there is an eye of the needle situation for entry and exit. A small sea of people packed bumper to bumper so that no one could fall down even if a sudden death befell someone in the audience. No thanks.

I could tell the group was worth seeing, but even the Beatles or the prophet of your choice (pbuh) wouldn't be worth joining that can of sardines.

The track would be a cool place to work if you dealt with the horses or maybe played the bugle. Not sure the betting cashier would be so great, although many of them seemed to like it. I know horse work doesn't pay that well, but it is kind of an all consuming life and a world of its own. I find that appealing. Plus there is a quality about horse people I like.

In Miami I used to take the metro-rail to Hialeah, sometimes. It was easy and no traffic to fool with. It was cheap to get in and Hialeah is a pretty track with a pond and a gazillon flamingos. Just like the ones you put in your front lawn, except these can fly. I never bet when I went, just enjoyed the escape.



They've had issues keeping Hialeah open over the years, but it is again up and running. It was once the premier venue for the horsies. I think the fancy Calder race track made it tough. It has 1/10th the charm but such is life. Tropical Park bit the dust due to updated stuff in the scuzzy northern Dade county-into Broward county area. I spit to think of that. But you probably thought South Beach was always splendid. It used to be nothing but garbage. A beach so skinny and dirty children cried if you offered to take them to the beach.

If you want to go to Del Mar you have to deal with THE Five (I-5) and the snarky traffic. Why is that every mile closer to LA the more drivers attempt to prevent you from getting where you are going? One guy was dead set on preventing a lane change--he failed--then he tried to speed up from keep another driver from moving over to the right to make an exit, and finally he had to move left because he wasn't even getting off. He almost had to exit because he was more intent on making trouble than getting to LA or wherever he was headed.

They always preface the numbered highways with "the" out here. That is not how it is done in eastern states where I lived. I don't mind. I just find it a noticeable characteristic of the vernacular out west. Everyone does it; my friends, the TV people, homeless people who "will work for food", everyone except me.

OK so they installed the new carpet in the suite I painted. Not the carpet that was ordered but "it will do", according to the house manager. Since it was different the door now doesn't work. Looks like someone will have to shave some off the bottom. I am not crazy about that task but work is work.

Couple of Entries from My Illustrated dictionary

I just happened to be browsing through, and these definitions caught my attention. This is such a good book. They put a picture in so you can get more of the flavor of the language.

dem·a·gogue   [dem-uh-gog, -gawg] noun, verb, -gogued, -gogu·ing.
–noun

a person, esp. an orator or political leader, who gains power and popularity by arousing the emotions, passions, and prejudices of the people.

–verb (used with object)

to treat or manipulate (a political issue) in the manner of a demagogue; obscure or distort with emotionalism, prejudice, etc.

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Blue: [bloo], verb (past tense), used with objectMonika

That doesn't appear to be the famous dress with stain.


Maybe it was the seemingly simple paint project that brought this to mind. I've been knee deep in "Brazilian Blue" for several days, and one's mind tends to ponder under such circumstances. Job done and it is a very professional one at that. Tons of edge work due to designer features and just because. I realize I have a very steady hand and can cut in with the best of them, with left or right hand. While damned near standing on my head atop a ladder.

Things I Know Little About: part 1 -Wimmins// else

What wimmins like:
I don't know too much about that, but I do think they like to have the last word. This comes to mind when texting, emailing or talking on the dreaded phone. That is my theory on wimmins for today.

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So we played the Crest community center for a 50th wedding anniversary Sunday afternoon. Some of the band knows the people. The husband of the pair used to have some bit parts in some old cowboy movies and liked our performance.

They were nice people and the little community building there is a cool place. We played out on the back patio and I sweated through my shirt.

It was a low key affair but a lot of people. Some guys played after us but all the people went back inside. They seemed nice enough, and played well, but kind of boring. I loaded up from the buffet then took off to come back to the mysterious power brokers house and continue working. I need to finish this project in a day or two, so I stay here, work, hit the pool at night and goof off.

There are some good harmonies in this group and strong individual vocals. They did well.

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My brother is digging up things with a little half track steam shovel looking thing. It is supposed to be for excavation in his never ending search for dinosaurs in the middle of absolutely nowhere, Montana. He said he'd do terrible things to anyone who called the machine "cute", so of course I have called it the "cutest steam shovel I ever saw" and variations of that more than once. We rarely communicate but he sent a picture of it. He picked it up in WA state somewhere and dug up a bunch of stuff at N2, youngest nephew's house in Seattle, before hauling it back to dinosaur country, I guess it goes on a trailer he can haul.

You wonder how people can grow up in the same house and have such divergent life experience. I don't really wonder so much. I can pin most of it down. I suspect my brother and others find it more of a mystery, or assume it is a disparity in basic intelligence. I think that assumption is off the mark.

In any case the completely different paths do put a bit of a wedge in the relationship. Too bad. But it is what it is.

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I'm struck by the fact that my connections in San Diego county are all in the very best of the places here. I'm out in the country and in a pretty good spot. I like the quiet and the view and many of the people. It is horse country and coyote country. Then I work in a resort community full of uppity-ups. Very nice place, but the best of the people tend to be the workers, not the owners. Except for the lady who, maybe with husband I never met, used to own this resort and still owns plenty around here. She's a spunky, cool older woman. One of those who could be 80 and kick your butt for the hell of it.

Most of the others just go out of their way to be pushy and seem to make asses of themselves trying to affect the demeanor of VIPs. This is horse country too, but not like normal horse people who are almost always cool. Probably the ones who actually care for the horses and train them are OK. But they don't run one another off the road in BMWs and Rovers. But to their credit, they collect some strikingly stunning trophy wives. Although at times I suspect the eye candy on the arm is being rented for a day or two.

I Want To Play McGonagall in The Movie

A movie based on the life of William Topaz McGonagall (self described poet and tragedian) could be a great flick. He would be a blast to play. People paid to hear his recitations for the humor and generally bizarre content and delivery. Had he not had an intensely serious aspect, the humor would not be there.

It is suspected that he may have actually been putting people on, but there is little hint that he ever got caught out of character. One article I read suggested that he may have glorified people and ideas in a way that actually made the opposite case. He never showed any signs of not being very serious and sincere, but that made some of it even more farcical.

My favorite story about him is the one describing his first foray on stage. He managed to play the role of Macbeth but when he was supposed to be run through with a sword he refused to go down, wildly flailing about with his sword until the other actor finally tackled him to make him go down.

Other performances of Shakespearean characters involved him becoming so animated with sword play that all the others ran off the stage and even some in the orchestra sought refuge under chairs or ran to a safe distance.

His history and writings are hilarious. It is still hard to figure out if he was a totally sincere lunatic, or a genius. Times were tough and had he not been such an outrageous character no one would have paid for his entertainment.

I love the part about being in a play and deciding he didn't want his character to die without a real life fight.

His efforts to get the Queen to name him Poet Laureate involve more bizarre and hilarious adventure. Why no one has made this movie, I do not know, but it could be the best period piece to come out in many years, maybe ever.

Public Service Message Re: Demon Drink

With all the wine promoting I've done, I feel the responsible thing to do is offer this warning, written by William McGonagall. There is no way I could match his simple elegance and deep insight.

First a bit of a bio on Bill:
William Topaz McGonagall, poet and tragedian of Dundee, has been widely hailed as the writer of the worst poetry in the English language..

A self-educated hand loom weaver from Dundee, he discovered his discordant muse in 1877 and embarked upon a 25 year career as a working poet, delighting and appalling audiences across Scotland and beyond.

(apparently references to Home Rule in the following masterpiece are referring to Ireland-)



The Demon Drink
Oh, thou demon Drink, thou fell destroyer;
Thou curse of society, and its greatest annoyer.
What hast thou done to society, let me think?
I answer thou hast caused the most of ills, thou demon Drink.

Thou causeth the mother to neglect her child,
Also the father to act as he were wild,
So that he neglects his loving wife and family dear,
By spending his earnings foolishly on whisky, rum and beer.

And after spending his earnings foolishly he beats his wife-
The man that promised to protect her during life-
And so the man would if there was no drink in society,
For seldom a man beats his wife in a state of sobriety.

And if he does, perhaps he finds his wife fou',
Then that causes, no doubt, a great hullaballo;
When he finds his wife drunk he begins to frown,
And in a fury of passion he knocks her down.

And in that knock down she fractures her head,
And perhaps the poor wife she is killed dead,
Whereas, if there was no strong drink to be got,
To be killed wouldn't have been the poor wife's lot.

Then the unfortunate husband is arrested and cast into jail,
And sadly his fate he does bewail;
And he curses the hour that ever was born,
And paces his cell up and down very forlorn.

And when the day of his trial draws near,
No doubt for the murdering of his wife he drops a tear,
And he exclaims, "Oh, thou demon Drink, through thee I must die,"
And on the scaffold he warns the people from drink to fly,

Because whenever a father or a mother takes to drink,
Step by step on in crime they do sink,
Until their children loses all affection for them,
And in justice we cannot their children condemn.

The man that gets drunk is little else than a fool,
And is in the habit, no doubt, of advocating for Home Rule;
But the best Home Rule for him, as far as I can understand,
Is the abolition of strong drink from the land.

And the men that get drunk in general wants Home Rule;
But such men, I rather think, should keep their heads cool,
And try and learn more sense, I most earnestlty do pray,
And help to get strong drink abolished without delay.

If drink was abolished how many peaceful homes would there be,
Just, for instance in the beautiful town of Dundee;
then this world would be heaven, whereas it's a hell,
An the people would have more peace in it to dwell

Alas! strong drink makes men and women fanatics,
And helps to fill our prisons and lunatics;
And if there was no strong drink such cases wouldn't be,
Which would be a very glad sight for all christians to see.

O admit, a man may be a very good man,
But in my opinion he cannot be a true Christian
As long as he partakes of strong drink,
The more that he may differently think.

But no matter what he thinks, I say nay,
For by taking it he helps to lead his brither astray,
Whereas, if he didn't drink, he would help to reform society,
And we would soon do away with all inebriety.

Then, for the sake of society and the Church of God,
Let each one try to abolish it at home and abroad;
Then poverty and crime would decrease and be at a stand,
And Christ's Kingdom would soon be established throughout the land.

Therefore, brothers and sisters, pause and think,
And try to abolish the foul fiend, Drink.
Let such doctrine be taught in church and school,
That the abolition of strong drink is the only Home Rule.


***my impression is that he was kissing up to the Crown whenever he could. But how can you fault his wisdom and logic regarding Demon Drink?****
You can go to the Wm Mc site and sign a petition for the Brits to put him on a stamp. I know most of us have no business petitioning the Royal Post, but it kind of makes me feel like I'm getting a taste of what it is like to make demands on foreign lands. That's all the rage these days...


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Sometimes Brits are hilarious.
Here's the petition to get Wm McGonagall his own stamp


To: Royal Mail
Julietta Elgar
Head of Special Stamps
Royal Mail
148 Old Street
LONDON
EC1V 9HQ

We the undersigned urge the Royal Mail to release a commemorative stamp to honour the memory of Scottish poet William Topaz McGonagall (1825-1902). Mr. McGonagall was an exemplar of optimism, having travelled on foot over fifty miles to petition Queen Victoria for the position of Poet Laureate, despite being unburdened with even the most basic understanding of fundamental poetic principles such as scansion. Nonetheless his poems, principal among them his masterwork “The Tay Bridge Disaster”, remain with us today, overshadowing the works of many more technically gifted poets of his time. His life stands as a testament to the irrepressible nature of the human spirit, and we ask you to make this gesture in celebration of the life of one of the greatest eccentrics Britain has ever known.

Sincerely,

The Undersigned


They have things on that site where they ask your country. They have all of North America under the British Empire heading. Then they have a category for "Other Colonies". Funny people there.

Product review; Jack's Juicer///and other

Lots of entries here. Starting Friday I have a project which will be a real push due to time limits. It will be a live-on-site-until-done operation so I doubt I will write much then. Not that it matters. The self indulgence of this sort of blog is mainly for me. Otherwise I'd be disappointed that millions don't read and enjoy or argue or otherwise react.

OK. The Jack LaLanne power juicer. I have the shiny one with lots of chrome and stainless steel, and black on top. What a wonderful gift that was.

In Memphis, at some point during the planning stage of my escape I bought a cheaper brand which worked OK. I felt it was wise to find ways to pump in some natural nutrition since energy was low and diet was bordering on malnutrition danger. It did the job but was not nearly as efficient and splendid as the Jack Juicer. I gave it to Photo Lady but I don't think she ever got the hang of it. I believe it induced fear, like if she were to try using a chain saw. Just not the power tool sort.

This juicer operates on a centrifugal set up that pulverizes what goes in, casting the juice through a metal screen and the pulp back into a hopper. There is not way to get 100% of the juice out of things this way, but it does a good job for the type of machine it is. I like it.



If you have ever seen the info-mercial for it you know that Mrs. Jack is the one doing all the hard selling. To put it bluntly, Mrs. Jack is about the money and speaks with forked tongue; she lies.

While Jack is trying to say how great he thinks it is that the machine uses an induction motor, she cuts him off claiming clean up "is a snap!". Big lie. It takes a few minutes to clean the thing up, and it is a process for which you develop a system. It is worth it, but definitely NOT "a snap!!".

Mrs. Jack also tries to suggest you can make all kinds of tasty treats from the left over pulp. That I would have to have proven to me before I believe it. I used it to make some kind of broth once and it was not tasty. Nothing else has come to mind. Supposedly you can make muffins or birthday cakes. I think she is just lying because she thinks the hard sell is the cool way to go.

It could be that the thing to do is dry the pulp in the sun, then spin the fibers into some sort of straw and make baskets. Whatever the case, Mrs. Jack earned my distrust for all she says with that "clean up is a snap!!" malarky.

The truth is, to get a better juicer you need to spend ten times as much for one of those things that uses a gear crush mechanism. Short of that, it is unlikely you can really do any better. It rates my recommendation, but only if you are a person who understands it won't clean itself, and you have to use some sense on what you jam in there because things can get stuck.

They rave about how you can put apples in whole, but some apples are too big for the inlet mouth. It will accommodate some apples whole, and many tomatoes as well. It ain't rocket science but I know how the public is, and if you take Mrs. Jack's word for it, you will be confused and disappointed. Jack, himself, tries to play it straight. But the man is 150 years old and his wife is bossy, so he can't get a word in edgewise on the commercial. Even so, you can trust Jack. Old as he is, he can still kick most our butts into next week.

In keeping with my last discussion about solving the problem of a life un-lived, I made a big batch of juice which included unknown green leafy things, celery, orange, yellow, red, and green peppers, cauliflower, spinach, lemon, apple, carrots, and tomato. I think that was all I included in this batch. I made enough for 3 days--one substantial glass per day. I drink the stuff right down, and actually like it. Others may find it is an acquired taste.

+++update: I just remembered that I put a bunch of broccoli in there, too. You'd be surprised how the apple and lemon make the stuff taste OK. People who don't want the sugar of the citrus or carrot use hot peppers to make the flavor less "earthy".+++

In any case, who cares about taste if a glass of something gives you more good stuff than you normally get in a week of your usual diet? That is my situation. I'm not much for sitting around eating a bunch of fruits and vegetables unless someone else fixes them and does so in a way that makes it taste good but not cooked to death.

You'd wonder what does a vegetarian eat then? Often nothing. Sometimes omelets or peanut butter sandwiches, maybe cheese, lots of corn tortillas, potato chips, cheese sandwiches--stuff like that. Any kind of nuts when they are in front of me.

Geez, who cares what you eat? I don't know I just felt a need to explain. No one cares so shut up. OK.

That was a little internal conversation. I know it is impolite to whisper among myself in public. Sorry.

Sudden Recall; vertigo, or what

I just now recalled some of my last gigs in Memphis. There had been a running battle over volume, me not wanting to wear a hat very often, etc.

On the volume front I remember that for the last six months or year of playing, I sometimes would suddenly become totally disoriented on stage and the sound would lose all structure in my mind. It would be alike just a bunch of disjointed noise and rhythms, and would make me dizzy and somewhat nauseous. Almost like a seizure or attack. I remember one time it happened there was a guy who wanted to sit in on harp so I put him up there and kept him there longer than he really wanted.

Then it happened at other gigs and I just continued to play from habit not really hearing or feeling any of it. No one seemed to notice because I guess I was in key and starting and stopping at the right time. But it was like operating on remote control. Very weird. I had to avoid much more playing in that environment for awhile.

I think they were too loud. It drove people out the door, I know. They still deny it, but how they can I do not know. More than one inn keeper and patron said we played well but way too loud on the guitars. Duh. That did not phase them.

Amazing. But I am more sensitive to noise than most people, and especially more sensitive to it than most electrified musicians. Good I got away from it before it caused a grand mal seizure, which it very well could have.

Now I think I would not have a problem. I'd like to sit in with a high powered band again sometime. Due to the precision and different techniques required to play with my mountain buddies I think I could do far better than ever in a blues/rock electric setting. Amplified harp setting. If I did it for any length of time though I might get those special ear plugs. To loud is hard on the ears.

Abstract Introspective Apologia Critique

Initially, I was pondering the course of events with an eye toward defining what permitted others to overcome what I apparently could not. Much of it was in the vein of the rich man/ poor man, good son/ bad son scenario. That proved somewhat fruitless, as I realized there are innate, organic factors which separate those who thrive from those who perish, regardless of external circumstances.

Naivete may be one such factor. I always assumed everyone was honest and knew of what they spoke. Those close to me who overcame many shared obstacles were never under such an illusion. They assumed that most of those around us were idiots or small minded schemers, and rightly so. The disparity between what they reasoned as true and what was put forth only strengthened their resolve. It served to cause me to believe my ability to reason and use logic must be greatly flawed.

As a result, much effort was aimed at somehow aligning my conclusions and attitudes with those which appeared to be well accepted by my peers. That was disastrous. Much like those who suddenly find themselves in new business positions and proceed according to what they think is the norm. They prove to be tyrants when in power because they really don't get it.

All that failed effort toward rectifying conflicting values led to purely angry resignation, and some edgy activities. Needless to say such a mindset does not lead to constructive outcomes.

For a minute there, I wanted to post an open letter apologizing to those I think I let down. Those whom I perceive as being less than proud to include me in their family tree. Then I think I would not have such a view, positions reversed, but how can one really be sure? If not for the extreme pain and desperation experienced, would I have the same compassion and insight that I have now toward those who fall off the edge of the normal life path? Doubtful.

So, no open letter explaining how terrible I feel for being a let down and disappointment. And no letter vowing to make from now on a better more constructive process. The wish to change everything and the actual doing are worlds away, and that gap is not so easily bridged.

I cringe any time I hear a person expressing their disgust with a wayward brother or relative who seems to flounder about in unhappy chaos rather than thrive; who seems unable to make good use of the special consideration and generosity of well wishers. That is frightening close to who I am, and have been since the age of 12 or 13. In my defense, I was not always in the position of authority over those choices. Some of the glaring cases of turning my back on opportunity were due to family restrictions forbidding such things.

But later cases were merely my own autopilot at work, continuing such ignorant negation, as if an internal guidance system felt an insane loyalty to the powers that used to be. Good thing I was sedated through most of that so my mind did not explode from the internal conflict. That conflict is still with me but less intense now, so sedation would be a waste. That had its own consequence and too many lines were crossed to ever risk smoothing the edges with alcohol or opiates again. I do not rule out being a pothead. But for now, forget it.

I wish I'd done like the head of the physics dept and head of math department at one or more institutions suggested, and taken it seriously, gone on to grad school, then made it through the doctorate level and become a secluded academician or mad scientist. Trouble is, even then the thought of having to rely on government money turned my stomach. Still, it would have been a good thing to do. Maybe I was constitutionally incapable of such discipline. There are some places in private industry for physics people. Mostly the government partnership with corporations has killed that. They sold out so that government has the corner on research and such.

Besides I really dislike most so-called scientists because they seem to fear truth, and are more concerned with everyone thinking they are superior. I've known plenty of them. A rather arrogant closed minded bunch, especially those who are strictly paid from government coffers.

But that is all external. Maybe the internal landscape is just too worrisome to explore at this point. It always has been, in reality.

It leaves me continually feeling secretly apologetic to life, in general, for my lack of effort and accomplishment. Never, or rarely, proud of my existence and life. This is beginning to interfere with enjoying life and looking forward to waking up.

Beginning to? Well, it comes and goes and is actually an old emotion, not something that is just now beginning to cause annoyance.

Vegetable juice may be the only answer; throw every green thing they sell and all other colors of plant life into the Jack Lalanne
power juicer and consume in large quantity. It usually improves energy and mood. But it requires buying groceries and keeping up with it. I suppose most people find they have to buy groceries from time to time. The very basics are what throw me the most. Dammit.

Too Much Info

Perhaps it is my destiny. I recall the strange and unbelievable story my foray into cotton dust control revealed. In short, the companies, which politicians and agencies act like they are going to fry for whatever reason--usually something stupid--are often behind the very actions being taken. They will whine publicly while pulling the strings privately. Don't be fooled into thinking we have no major textile manufacturing, particularly in the world of cotton, because of cheap labor and all that abroad. The whole thing was being orchestrated in the late 70's. I fell into proof of how that web operated. Makes no difference if you believe it or not.

Now I'm in a circumstance in which I, once again, just happen to see some things first hand which indicate that what you hear in the press, and the images very prominent people convey are not the real story at all. It does make one tend to believe there is such a thing as a conspiracy. The why of it still eludes me, but the if, how, and who sure don't. If you are one of those people who think that those who talk redistribution of wealth mean to pilfer from the rich and give to the poor, you are being duped. Wealth is and will be redistributed, but it is more a matter of shifting who controls the wealth. Mostly it will go from very wealthy to ultra wealthy, from producers to those who deal purely in money handling of one form or another.

[[OK. I don't know how to make a post short by splitting part of it out so, since I know you really don't want to read this, I am cutting what remains and sticking it in the comments. I sort of got the idea from over at BenB's. Except he had a post in comments then posted it in a post. It seemed technical and like a good idea. I think it had to do with site malfunction. ]]