Monday, February 15, 2016

(Guess Which? I Guess) President's Day 2016

I guess today is 'what-the-hell,-it's-a-holiday,-might-just-as-well-take-the-day-off-anyway' day, so I have been reading other people's blogs (all far more consistent and interesting than mine) and also a lot of political crap... although I found a great piece supposedly written by a University prof... a letter to Dr. Laura Schlessinger (sp?), of whom I have heard little lately, but thought this really funny- here it is:

Dear Dr. Laura:
Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God’s Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination… end of debate.
I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other elements of God’s Laws and how to follow them.
  1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can’t I own Canadians?
  1. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?
  1. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual unseemliness – Lev. 15: 19-24. The problem is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.
  1. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord – Lev. 1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?
  1. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2. clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?
  1. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination – Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don’t agree. Can you settle this? Are there ‘degrees’ of abomination?
  1. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle-room here?
  1. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?
  1. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
  1. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? Lev. 24:10-16. Couldn’t we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)
I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable expertise in such matters, so I am confident you can help.
Thank you again for reminding us that God’s word is eternal and unchanging.
Your adoring fan,
James M. Kauffman, Ed. D.
Professor Emeritus Dept. of Curriculum, Instruction, and Special Education
University of Virginia

Just had a call from Larry, my other reader of my love letter podcast. He is stuck in Phoenix waiting to get on a plane with a four hour delay because of the terrible weather in the other half of the country. (This is why I am living on the left coast kiddies) As they told him when he asked why he had to wait four hours for a plane whose ticket said from Phoenix to San Francisco, "Buddy, we don't have planes sitting around here waiting to take you home... they have to COME from somewhere... and that's back East, where the weather is BAD." Showing you the way people think simply about themselves and their little moment in time most of the time. Yeah, it's always me, me, me, isn't it? So, think of the other person once in a while... well sure, as long as it's how he/she relates to me, right? So here's a poem that I think kinda illustrates that... written in a fit of what? nostalgia, despondency, maybe me, me

You're the One (in My Mind, Maybe Not Yours)

You are my best friend
the one I can turn to, the one I can cry on,
the one who makes me smile... giggle... laugh out loud.
You are the one who is always there
the sweetest person I have ever known
You are my last and greatest love
You mean the world to me and always will

With age I had to give up candy... dessert
I had to give up running, jumping and driving
eating great foods and drinking and staying out late
fooling around and most of the pleasures of life...
But nothing will make me give up You
Unfortunately there is only one way to say it in English
I LOVE YOU... but you must know I do... or do you care? 

So here I sit, writing (or editing) more poems to join the hundreds that sit in boxes or on old computers... that are the story of a life not very well organized or led, so will undoubtedly be also one not read... but one that rhymed a great deal of the time (or should that be timed?) Ah, silliness had set in, so it must be time to go... ye gods, yes, it is time for the news. Time to hear what those stupid, Ill mannered, loud mouthed republicans are blocking today. I hated all the lovely platitudes about what a sweet old guy Scalia was, including those from Democrats. You know how they interview people who live next door to murderers and rapists... "Oh, he was such a nice guy, always smiling... said hello to me every morning, helped with shoveling the snow... nice person." Or, as Larry said, "Wouldn't have been more interesting if he had been wiped out by 10 shots from a military weapon?" So now even the Dems are saying what a great constitutional lawyer and good guy Scalia was. Well, I cheered when Scalia died the other day... now if his black buddy on the court would just get the hell out, and the republicans let Obama appoint an intelligent person to the supreme, perhaps we would get rid of things like that damned bill that makes corporations people and military guns not legal for our citizens (hey, there weren't any corporations when the constitution was written... and my Pilgrim ancestors never saw a machine gun... where did you get that with that moron's 'great constitutional mind'? Peg... stop the rant... g'nite!

Monday, February 1, 2016

What a Day... hooray, I'm online & HORRORS the 'second coming' won in Iowa!!

And... it is my dear little (big) grandchild Max's third birthday... that's one for great celebration. He is definitely Mr. Cute, an adorable child I will never get to know... but then, I didn't get to know any of them, did I? The only grandchild I ever felt really close to was my dear little Bella, who is a lot like me, in sort of miniature, the 'middle child' syndrome?. They all do have the Cartwright face, though, although in Max it is the least.

So... first... Allie came over last night and presented me with "LoveMegglie.com"... my podcast, all done and online with my letter from L.Megan Carringtown, explaining what was coming and why it is called what it is, and introducing the hero and heroine of the great love story that started at the change of the century and will go on for around 8 years. I may have to do a blog along with this opening one, as there may be things to explain... or who knows what will happen..... I am pleased. Now there will be much less work... except for the reading of the letters... I'm up to number 44,  I think, so there will be a lot to read. I do hope that Larry is up for it... he is a dear to do it. And darling Allie is wonderful to do all the work on the website.

Perhaps I will start doing some artwork to go on the website. No... I think I must get to work and do some artwork and do a website for me, and perhaps stat reading my poetry and drawing stuff to do with it. I do wish I had a musician friend to write some stuff to be played with the poetry. What the hell am I doing... I'm not going to live long enough for all this. I have to go and see Colin and get all other simple day-to-day things done. Too much to think about... far too much.

Then... after having a lovely day thinking of all the nice things hat had happened, and all the nice people who had helped me...I had a call from Larry... a lovely person I was planning to call to tell him to get to a computer and listen to himself reading Kirkie's letters, when he gave the the horrible news: That moronic 'second coming' Cuban Canadian ted cruz won in Iowa! God... the end of our country if the dreadful stupid evangelical idiots manage to get the vote out and the GOP runs him for president. The end of the word is upon us... Jesus has been reborn as the most hated man in Congress. Yep, his father says he is going to fix the states first... then he will go on to fix the world. Sca-a-a-a-a-ary!!!
Oh, ye gods... WHAT A DAY!  I do wish Kirk was here... or even Jackie... I need a hug.

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

I Guess "I'm Happy on the Shelf"

Well, I’m back to talking only to Sylvia Katt once more. Rather she is back to telling me to “get the hell into the bathroom and clean out my litter box.” I will when I feel like it, having done so at least twice today (she's getting old and like all us old ladies, needs to go often), along with filling her water bowl, then filling her food dish... jeeze, what more can I do? I have become her constant maid and yet she wants more, but I can’t figure out what that is... she probably just wants me to take her out in the hall and watch her run up and down. Not in my nightgown, I won’t. Oh, great... she just knocked something down in the bedroom... hope it wasn’t the little suitcase that was up on the big one on top of the bookcase... she’s been jumping up there to use it as a scratching place... must be in shreds now. Oh well... I’m not going anywhere ever again, except in a small box.....

Ah, but where is our country going? We had better, all of us progressive U.S. citizens, get out the vote and elect either Bernie or Hillary, or the U.S. will cease to exist, as it will have a crazed, helpless republican in charge. What do they have for us? A screaming, power-mad billionaire with a pinky-yellow dye job, who hates the rest of the world and has never dealt with any other political leaders (well, which of them ever has... they are all really novices). Then there is the one whose father declares him the second coming, who is actually a Cuban Canadian remade into a racist Southerner. And another Cuban American, who is confused about almost everything; another dopey Bush, who claims to be the smart one in a family of not-too bright people; the woman who wrecked HP; a governor undoubtedly food-crazed from being on a strict diet throughout his campaign; a black brain surgeon who seems to be there to promote his book; and a bunch of other guys standing around hoping someone will ask them something they have rehearsed answers for.

Now we begin to see what the ruined educational system of this country is producing. Not just these political nuts, but also the people who actually vote for them. Someone has put these idiots into a position to buy votes... to get themselves backed by the wealthy, unscrupulous corporations that run our country and feed the wealth of our nation into the hands of the wealthiest amongst us. Whitney was right, we should have gone to Canada, or the Netherlands, but, unfortunately they don’t want us as citizens... we don’t have the skills to live in another country. Other countries expect their new citizens to learn their language and have the skills they need. We continue to allow assault weapons to be bought and carried by anyone, to give in to religious nuts who think the world is 6000 years old, to allow children to starve, while cutting the taxes of the wealthy, to allow corporations to buy votes by promoting the kind of stupid and useless politicians we now have in Congress. We need a single payer medical system, similar to the ones in ALL civilized countries. We need to get rid of the useless “health insurance companies” and have a health care system that is the same for all people. If every person in the U.S. paid $25 a month for health care, and the majority of doctors stopped being ‘single style’ doctors and actually worked as family physicians, we would be a much healthier nation. If teachers were better trained in their subjects instead of “how to teach” (most of the time useless), and paid more like the bloated ‘doctor specialists,’ we might have an educated country instead of a land of low IQ peasants. Children should not be taught at “age level” but at “intelligence peer level,” or skill level, with different groups for each skill in each ‘grade.’ Not every child should go to ‘college.’ If a child does not want to go, or cannot do the work required, he/she should have a choice to learn a trade or skill, or be able to work as an apprentice to learn a skill that will get them a job they like, for too many people in this country now hate the work they do, and should have learned to work at something they enjoy doing.

I get the feeling this upcoming election may be my last. For my grandchildren’s sake, I hope that the poor, uneducated, unthinking, low IQ nation in which I now live, has the good sense to turn their backs on the screaming, squabbling bunch of idiots and vote for the people in their district and in the national races who will not cater to the corporations and the wealthiest people in this country.  And, please, let's get rid of that nut who looks like the youngest member of "The Adams Family," Paul Ryan. come on, people of Michigan, you have more brains than that!

Thursday, October 29, 2015

Finding People

When you get to be my age (VERY OLD) you tend to lose friends, family, people in general. The only people you see or talk to are your doctor, well, doctors now, they're all specialists, your dentist, the people you make appointments to see, your hairdresser (or barber), the people who come to clean your apartment, but not very many others. Old people become invisible to others on the street, particularly ones with my problem... I use a walker, so I guess younger people think I am beyond bothering with. I even notice that the little girl who is our building's 'program director' tends to talk to me the way one talks to a three year old... I'm THAT old. Unfortunately, I cannot put a sign around my neck, explaining that I am a 40 year old living in a 90 year old body. I can still understand a lot more of the English language that most people. I can still read... and write, using my computers, and carry on an intelligent conversation... well, that is, if I can find an intelligent person out there. They seem to have become one of the lost races on this earth. All but about two or three of my old friends are either dead, have moved in with their children back East, have just about lost it to some form of Alzheimer's or taken to their beds for good, something that doesn't interest me at the moment. 

So, I must begin a search... a search for younger friends obviously. I'm almost there. I joined my local 'Nextdoor.com' ... a lovely way to meet neighbors. I put two comments in... first one mentioned that I was a old woman who needed help with my new Macbook Pro, and getting a website started to put my podcast online, and made friends with a darling girl named Allie, who turned out to be a knitter and craftsperson like me... we had a lot in common to start with, and have discovered more as she helped me... I'm learning!! Then I commented on another note... and had several people get in touch with me... had a wonderful time last night... on of the young men and his girlfriend came over, bringing me dinner and stayed to talk... much fun. They promised to come back and bring yet another young man with to interview me. Plus... heard from some other charming girls... one coming for tea on Sunday, an older woman who invited me to come and see her California plant garden, and a dear girl with a baby who is coming to see me after her mother's visit. I do have neighbors... and looks like we will get to know each other. Perhaps I shall even get my Sunday in the Garden conversation meting I had thought about started. This is a great neighborhood... I do hope we all get together to talk. Now all I have to do is find wher the gals hid my Red Rose Tea. We were stuck having white tea last night, as it was all I could find. I love the idea of having neighbors again!

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Talking to Myself Once More

Well, since no one ever reads this, I guess it is simply me talking to myself... so me, how's the neck? Don't ask! Why do I continue to exist in this terrible shape? I suppose because I don't think I could haul myself up over the edges of the GG bridge... and besides, I hate being under water... just brings back the remembrance of the horrible waters of Lake Minnetonka where I almost drowned the one summer we went there instead of up to the cottage, where we had beautiful Lake Huron, clear and clean and lovely. Few lttle stones as you walked into the lake, but then back to the singing sands of Michigan underfoot. On shore, hot sand to sink into as you ran to keep the feet above the broiling hot sand, heated up by the hot, hot sun, so it was either run up to the right and into the shade of the birch, beech and fir trees that grew there, or into the water and run on the tiny stones. Always running down to the public beach, as the lake behind our cottage was shallow and a long way to fight through the leg length water to a place where one could swim. At least at the public beach one could get in, walk a short distance and swim... swim around the big round logs of the pier, in and out, out to the last ones, where it became over the head finally.

How I miss the cottage... and all the relatives. Useless and alone in California... well, my dear son always says, "You're the one who wanted to live in California. Yep... it's always my fault... everything... forever. Well Mark et al, California has been good for and to me. Look... I'm living forever... I have help with my housework... I have a selfish roommate named Sylvia, who is now telling me to get the hell in there and clean out her litter box... must go.......... bye me, bye!

Sunday, September 13, 2015

Oh, Did God Choose Sunday for US?

Here it is Sunday and I am so sick and tired of “Christians” and their so called ‘beliefs’ taken right from the teachings of their ‘Christ,’ or Jesus? Almost always, it turns out that they are giving us something from the OLD Testament, or the Jewish bible. There is nothing there about a Jesus... that is all in the NEW Testament, which they will also drag out and quote from, but normally their quotes are from the OLD.

To my way of thinking, the Old Testament is actually the telling and retelling and retelling, and retelling, and retelling, ad infinitum, of stories made up by a bunch of old men to keep their flocks in order and doing what those old bosses wanted done. (Haven’t we all had a boss who told us “because we’ve always done it that way?”) The stories that have come down to us that were put into a ‘bible’ are the ones that benefitted the ‘bosses’ the best, and the ones that were the most interesting to majority of people. That ‘book’ has been ripped apart and retold by a lot of generations, and I think most people now have gotten the idea, finally, that no old man with a long white beard patted together a lot of dust and threw in a couple of oceans to make a place for his original pair of ‘humans’ to live some 60,000 (oh yeah?) years ago. What language did they speak? (I’ll bet most of the holier than thou in the U.S. will say ‘English.’) "Great glory, I been SAVED!!"

As to the “Christians” in the supposedly devout fundamentalist groups in our country, most do not know much about the bible, as they do not read, but simply take the word of some usually just as ignorant ‘pastor’ who tells them how to think and believe. If they had read the New Testament, they would find that Jesus was simply a minor prophet who headed a quite small group of people of the Jewish faith, who, like most Jews, were looking for ‘the Redeemer’ (or whatever your group called him in those days), to take them out of the slavery they were in, to establish them where everyone wants to be... as the bosses again. A lot of this was of course, cloaked in the pretty voices of ‘the humble,’ ‘the kind,’ etc., etc. After all WE wouldn’t treat our fellow humans badly, would we? Noooo. We are nicer, aren’t we? And all the ‘holidays were cribbed from the Pagans... Jesus was NOT born in December, the ‘elders’ needed to snatch that pagan celebration, along with all the rest. 

Now if you look at the New Testament, you will find very few real “quotes” from this minor prophet, Jesus, as almost all of what is written (or made up) about him was written long after his death. Matter of fact, he probably wouldn’t even have become known if it hadn’t been for a man we call St.Paul, who came long, long after Jesus, picked up stories and beliefs about this good and kind man and spread his name and stories about him all across the somewhat civilized world of that time. Had it not been for St.Paul and his wanderings and teachings, we might have wound up with Thor or some vague Viking god as our main venue of worship. But, because of St.Paul, who most assuredly was not one of Jesus’ “disciples,” we got Jesus, the man he referred to as “the Son of God.” He did a great job, My mother, a devout Anglican Catholic (Episcopalian) always referred to St.Paul as the first great salesman.

Then there is the New Testament itself. I get very tired of the people who say it is the ‘word of god’... one would really not like to imagine that old man with the white beard lounging around on the clouds with so much time on his hands when he could be helping out some of the poor refugees down here, writing some of the fanciful stories in that book. Now you find me a quote from Jesus that says gay people can’t get married, or that a woman who has been raped can’t get an abortion.

First of all, those stories were gathered, again by the tribal bosses, to keep people in line and doing whatever work had to be done to keep the community together. Further, that whole book was torn apart by Constantine when he was converted to this new faith, who destroyed the parts he did not agree with, and put in a few little extras to keep his bunch in line. It was ever thus, no matter what all those fundamentalist preachers in their fancy, expensive suits ('God WANTS me to look good!') tell you.

There is so much information today because of computers, and the work of archeologists, and the whole EDUCATED community, that it disturbs me to see the rise in uneducated people who go to these huge fundamentalist churches and believe what is screamed at them by guys collecting enormous amounts of money from the masses. It also saddens me. I do wish that instead of all these churches and Mosques and other places full of people who are simply taught to hand their money to guys who are preaching at them, we could have small groups of people who believe like the Buddhists, not in a god, but in the quiet, good and kind teachings of a man who did not (nor did his followers attempt to) make himself a ‘god.’

Next I suppose I will do my little preaching on the division of salaries in my country... another crime against humanity. No person should make more than 250% (or I guess it is more now) than the average person who works for him/her. But that’s for next time...

Sunday, August 16, 2015

More Tears... Another Hero Gone

A sad today today, just before 60 Minutes I heard that yet another of my great heros, Julian Bond, died today, far too soon. He was only 75. It is almost like the horror of being a parent and having one's child die before her to see so many of my heros go, leaving their sad old mother here, knowing, since she is a firm atheist, that she will never see them again. So Julian leaves, leaving me here wishing I had had the chance to meet him, that gorgeous, soft-spoken man who worked so hard at trying to make his country a better place for all of us. A kinder, sweeter and quieter person than most of the hard-driving people who fought for racial freedom in the south, one did not see him as often as the others, but I listened to his every word and watched for him at any rally. I brush away the tears that threaten to fall on my keyboard and can only say:  Goodbye dear Julian Bond, I love you and I shall miss you enormously. May you long be remembered as one of our country's greatest men.