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Showing posts from September, 2008

Girl, Put Your Records On (Do It For SWIE)

Girl, put your records on
Tell me your favourite song
You go ahead, let your hair down . . . .

from Corinne Bailey Rae's "Put Your Records On"

You don't need me to tell you that times are hard. The Dow fell over 700 points today. Folks are losing their jobs and their homes. Those who aren't are trying to make the same stagnant wages cover higher costs. It's tough all over.

Yet, it could be worse. It could always be worse. Ten years ago today I was experiencing one of the darkest days of my life: Making funeral arrangements for my mom, whom I refer to on this blog as SWIE (She Who Is Exalted). Mind you, my mother wasn't dead. But she was terminally ill with both cancer and Alzheimer's, and I was scheduled to return to my teaching duties in Mississippi. There wasn't much I could do for her but make funeral arrangements.

And even though this day ten years ago was one of my darkest, it doesn't color how I remember my mother. I don't remember her as …

Burn, M*****f*****, Burn

The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire
We don’t need no water
Let the m***** f***** burn.
Burn, m*****f*****, burn.

Anyone who partied during the 70’s and 80’s remembers this old school chant, which would usually get started at the height of a really good party. Some DJ worth his or her salt would seamlessly mix a slower groove like “Genius of Love” along with “Funkin’ for Jamaica”, and “Word Up”, ending in a crescendo topped off by “Got To Give It Up, ” “Thighs High,” and “One Nation Under A Groove,” and somebody would start off:

The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire . . .

You couldn’t have paid anyone to get off the dance floor at that point. We don’t need no water, let the m*****f***** burn. People of my generation often forgot the last part of the chant: Burn, m*****f*****, burn.

Well, quite frankly, the last part of the chant has been forgotten by the barons of Wall Street who are pimping Secretary Paulson and Fed Chair Bernanke for a bailout. Wall Street players like Goldman Sachs…

No Budget? No Taxes! No Problem! (Somebody's Gotta Feel This)

The California state budget stalement is allegedly coming to an end after more than 80 days, the longest the state has gone without a budget.

In the meantime, appointed officials and legislative staff have gone without pay. Retired annuitants, temporary employees, and student interns have been laid off from general fund agencies. Vendors have not been paid. Schools have not received funding. Health services programs that rely on state funding have suffered, as have the people who rely on those services.

To quote Kid Rock, "Somebody's Gotta Feel This."

So, here's my proposal to prevent this from happening again: A ballot measure enacting a constitutional amendment that would prohibit the state from collecting any taxes or fees without a budget. And I don't mean some stop-gap spending measure. I mean a budget, signed, sealed and delivered.

This measure would also prevent the state from collecting those taxes and fees retroactively, or from raising taxes and fees…

Memo to Obama Camp: Ask The Damn Question

So far, I haven't heard the Obama campaign ask The Damn Question.

You know the question: The one question politicians are afraid to ask when they're running because they're afraid it will be turned back on them when they're in office.

You know the question:

"Are you better off now than you were eight years ago?"

Or, in the case of this failed Bush administration, "Are you better off under W than you were under the Bill?"

Somehow, we've allowed the country to lose focus of what's at stake: Four more years of being on the wrong track.

The Bush administration has failed this country domestically, internationally, environmentally, you name it. And people forget that we're not just electing a president (or vice president, for that matter), we're also electing a party. The likelihood that McCain won't drag back into office more Republican ideologues? Not high. Not high at all. Idealogues who paint Democrats as tax-and-spend liberals and then…

The Council of Meat Bees

I don’t know whether Senator Obama or Senator McCain will be the next president, but I do know that what the next POTUS should have is a Council of Meat Bees.

What is a meat bee, you ask?

I found out a while back that I’m a meat bee. Or at least as persistent as one.

When I first started working for a state agency, I was in a meeting with a boss of mine who was meticulous to a fault, seemed to enjoy elevating form over substance, and was constantly correcting the work of others without regard to whether the corrections were needed. We were in a meeting, and in the meeting he glossed over something he had gotten wrong. In the spirit of tit-for-tat, I pointed it out.

“But you were wrong.”

My boss continued his schpiel as if he didn’t hear me. When there was a break, I said it again:

“But you were wrong.”

He eyed me dismissively and continued with his talk. When he ended, I turned to him, looked him directly in the eyes, and said, “Why do you have so much trouble admitting you were wrong?”

By th…

Palin Comparison

If the Republican Party had any pride or shame, it would simply take a powder and sit out this presidential election. It would be refreshing to hear the chair of the RNC say to the American public, “You know, the last eight years? Our bad. We’re gonna sit this next one out and get our act together.”

But NOOOOOOOOO. . . . . . they had to try to make their case for another four years, including a canned hack speech from that blowhard windbag Fred Thompson, topping it off with Gov. Sarah Palin, clearly a benchwarmer even among Republican women politicians (What? Sen. Liddy Dole was unavailable? Sen. Kay Bailey Hutchinson had better things to do than be second-in-command to the Leader of the Free World? Condi Rice had a memorial oil tanker to get back to? Sen. Olympia Snowe can’t stand your behind?)

Watching the Republicans attempt to make their case for another four years is like watching a pimp put pigtails on an old crackwhore and make the case for her virginity. Yeah, you hear t…