I am not a biker, but I cannot otherwise disagree with this one.
Sam
I Am the Democratic Liberal-Progressive's Worst Nightmare.
I am an White, Conservative, Tax-Paying, American Veteran, Gun Owning Biker.
I am a Master leatherworker. I work hard and long hours with my hands to earn a living.
I believe in God and the freedom of religion, but I don't push it on others.
I ride Harley Davidson Motorcycles, and drive American-made cars, and I believe in America
products and buy them whenever I can.
I believe the money I make belongs to me and not some liberal governmental functionary,
Democratic or Republican, that wants to share it with others who don't work!
I'm in touch with my feelings and I like it that way!
I think owning a gun doesn't make you a killer; it makes you a smart American.
I think being a minority does not make you noble or victimized, and does not entitle you to
anything. Get over it!
I believe that if you are selling me a Big Mac or any other item, you should do it in English.
I believe there should be no other language option.
I believe everyone has a right to pray to his or her God when and where they want to.
My heroes are Malcolm Forbes, Bill Gates, John Wayne, Babe Ruth, Roy Rogers,
and Willie G. Davidson, who makes the awesome Harley Davidson Motorcycles.
I don't hate the rich. I don't pity the poor.
I know wrestling is fake and I don't waste my time watching or arguing about it.
I've never owned a slave, nor was a slave. I haven't burned any witches or been persecuted
by the Turks, and neither have you!
I believe if you don't like the way things are here, go back to where you came from and
change your own country!
This is AMERICA ....We like it the way it is and more so the way it was ...so stop trying to
change it to look like Russia or China, or other socialist country!
If you were born here and don't like it... you are free to move to any Socialist country that will
have you. (And take Barack Hussein Obama and his group with you.) Massachusetts
started the ball rolling. Keep it going.
I believe it is time to really clean house, starting with the White House, the seat of our biggest
problems.
I want to know which church is it, exactly, where the Reverend Jesse Jackson preaches,
where he gets his money, and why he is always part of the problem and not the solution.
Can I get an AMEN on that one? AMEN
I also think the cops have the right to pull you over if you're breaking the law, regardless of
what color you are, but not just because you happen to ride a bike.
And, no, I don't mind having my face shown on my driver's license.
I think it's good.... And I'm proud that 'God' is written on my money..
I think if you are too stupid to know how a ballot works, I don't want you deciding who should
be running the most powerful nation in the world for the next four years.
I dislike those people standing in the intersections trying to sell me stuff or trying to guilt me
into making 'donations' to their cause.... Get a job and do your part to support yourself and
your family!
I believe that it doesn't take a village to raise a child, it takes two parents....
I believe 'illegal' is illegal no matter what the lawyers think!
I believe the American flag should be the only one allowed in AMERICA !
If this makes me a BAD American, then yes, I'm a BAD American.
If you are a BAD American too, please forward this to everyone you know....
We want our country back!
*********************************************************************
My Country.....
I hope this offends all illegal aliens.
My great, great, great, great grandfather watched and bled as his friends died in the
Revolution & the War of 1812.
My great, great, great grandfather watched as his friends died in the Mexican American War,
My great, great grandfather watched as his friends & brothers died in the Civil War,
My great grandfather watched as his friends died in the Spanish-American War,
My grandfather watched as his friends died in WW I,
My father watched as his friends died in WW II,
I watched as my friends died in Vietnam, Panama & Desert Storm.
My son watched & bled as his friends have died in Afghanistan and Iraq .
None of them died for the Mexican Flag. Everyone died for the American flag.
Texas high school students raised a Mexican flag on a school flag pole, other students took it
down. Guess who was expelled...the students who took it down.
California high school students were sent home on Cinco de Mayo, because they wore
T-shirts with the American flag printed on them.
Enough is enough
This message needs to be viewed by every American; and every American needs to stand up
for America .
We've bent over to appease the America-haters long enough. I'm taking a stand.
I'm standing up because the hundreds of thousands who died fighting in wars for this country,
and for the American flag.
If you agree, stand up with me. If you disagree, please let me know. I will gladly remove you
from my e-mail list.
And shame on anyone who tries to make this a racist message.
AMERICANS, stop giving away Your RIGHTS !
Let me make this clear! THIS IS MY COUNTRY !
This statement DOES NOT mean I'm against immigration !
YOU ARE WELCOME HERE, IN MY COUNTRY, welcome to come legally:
1. Get a sponsor !
2. Learn the LANGUAGE, as immigrants have in the past !
3. Live by OUR rules !
4. Get a job !
5. Pay YOUR Taxes !
6. No Social Security until you have earned it and Paid for it !
7. NOW find a place to lay your head !
If you don't want to forward this for fear of offending someone, then YOU'RE PART OF THE
PROBLEM !
We've gone so far the other way . . . bent over backwards not to offend anyone.
Only AMERICANS seem to care when American Citizens are being offended !
WAKE UP, America! ! !
If you do not Pass this on, may your fingers cramp !
Made in the U S A & PROUD OF IT!!!!!
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
A little Jesus... Thanks Carol and Clay Vice!
Merry Christmas to all!
Thanks Carol and Clay! We're forwarding this to most of our email buddies for their enjoyment at this Christmas time.
And a little Jesus right back at you Clay and Carol. We trust that Carol is steadily improving and that each of you and your family have a Merry Christmas and even more than a little Jesus. Truly, He is the greatest gift any human has ever enjoyed throughout their lifetime.
Sam and Jeanie (Jeanette Weddington) Kegley
----- Original Message -----
From: Clay Vice
Sent: Tuesday, December 14, 2010 21:55
Subject: Fw: [SPAM] Just to say hello and share this.
http://www.mamarocks.com/lets_give_a_little_jesus.htm
Thanks Carol and Clay! We're forwarding this to most of our email buddies for their enjoyment at this Christmas time.
And a little Jesus right back at you Clay and Carol. We trust that Carol is steadily improving and that each of you and your family have a Merry Christmas and even more than a little Jesus. Truly, He is the greatest gift any human has ever enjoyed throughout their lifetime.
Sam and Jeanie (Jeanette Weddington) Kegley
----- Original Message -----
From: Clay Vice
Sent: Tuesday, December 14, 2010 21:55
Subject: Fw: [SPAM] Just to say hello and share this.
http://www.mamarocks.com/lets_give_a_little_jesus.htm
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
A+ for this 15 year old boy's paper from many friends
Thanks my friends! Sadly noted!
Sam
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Subject: FW: I hope this kid got an A+ on his paper.
BY A 15 yr. Old SCHOOL KID IN ARIZONA
New Pledge of Al legiance (TOTALLY AWESOME)!
Since the Pledge of Al legiance
And
The Lord's Prayer
Are not allowed in most
Public schools anymore
Because the word 'God' is mentioned......
A kid in Arizona wrote the attached
NEW School prayer:
Now I sit me down in school
Where praying is against the rule
For this great nation under God
Finds mention of Him very odd.
If scripture now the class recites,
It violates the Bill of Rights.
And anytime my head I bow
Becomes a Federal matter now.
Our hair can be purple, orange or green,
That's no offense; it's a freedom scene..
The law is specific, the law is precise.
Prayers spoken aloud are a serious vice.
For praying in a public hall
Might offend someone with no faith at all..
In silence alone we must meditate,
God's name is prohibited by the state.
We're allowed to cuss and dress like freaks,
And pierce our noses, tongues and cheeks...
They've outlawed guns, but FIRST the Bible.
To quote the Good Book makes me liable.
We can elect a pregnant Senior Queen,
And the 'unwed daddy,' our Senior King.
It's 'inappropriate' to teach right from wrong,
We're taught that such 'judgments' do not belong..
We can get our condoms and birth controls,
Study witchcraft, vampires and totem poles..
But the Ten Commandments are not allowed,
No word of God must reach this crowd.
It's scary here I must confess,
When chaos reigns the school's a mess.
So, Lord, this silent plea I make:
Should I be shot; My soul please take!
Amen
If you aren't ashamed to do this, Please pass this on..
Jesus said, 'If you are ashamed of me, I will be ashamed of you before my Father.'
Not ashamed.
Sam
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Subject: FW: I hope this kid got an A+ on his paper.
BY A 15 yr. Old SCHOOL KID IN ARIZONA
New Pledge of Al legiance (TOTALLY AWESOME)!
Since the Pledge of Al legiance
And
The Lord's Prayer
Are not allowed in most
Public schools anymore
Because the word 'God' is mentioned......
A kid in Arizona wrote the attached
NEW School prayer:
Now I sit me down in school
Where praying is against the rule
For this great nation under God
Finds mention of Him very odd.
If scripture now the class recites,
It violates the Bill of Rights.
And anytime my head I bow
Becomes a Federal matter now.
Our hair can be purple, orange or green,
That's no offense; it's a freedom scene..
The law is specific, the law is precise.
Prayers spoken aloud are a serious vice.
For praying in a public hall
Might offend someone with no faith at all..
In silence alone we must meditate,
God's name is prohibited by the state.
We're allowed to cuss and dress like freaks,
And pierce our noses, tongues and cheeks...
They've outlawed guns, but FIRST the Bible.
To quote the Good Book makes me liable.
We can elect a pregnant Senior Queen,
And the 'unwed daddy,' our Senior King.
It's 'inappropriate' to teach right from wrong,
We're taught that such 'judgments' do not belong..
We can get our condoms and birth controls,
Study witchcraft, vampires and totem poles..
But the Ten Commandments are not allowed,
No word of God must reach this crowd.
It's scary here I must confess,
When chaos reigns the school's a mess.
So, Lord, this silent plea I make:
Should I be shot; My soul please take!
Amen
If you aren't ashamed to do this, Please pass this on..
Jesus said, 'If you are ashamed of me, I will be ashamed of you before my Father.'
Not ashamed.
Clunker Math... Thanks Joe Troyan!
Where were the decimals? We know the politicos didn't buy new cars, we pay their travel expenses.
----- Original Message -----
From: "Joseph F Troyan"
Clunker math
The person who calculated this bit of information went to high school in Pittsburgh, Pa. He is now & has been a professor at The University of West Virginia in Morgantown, West Virginia for the last forty some years. I never looked at the clunker program in such depth.
Clunker Math
Think of it this way: A clunker that travels 12,000 miles a year at 15 mpg uses 800 gallons of gas a year. A vehicle that travels 12,000 miles a year at 25 mpg uses 480 gallons a year. So, the average Cash for Clunkers transaction will reduce US gasoline consumption by 320 gallons per year. They claim 700,000 vehicles so that's 224 million gallons saved per year. That equates to a bit over 5 million barrels of oil. 5 million barrels is about 5 hours worth of US consumption. More importantly, 5 million barrels of oil at $70 per barrel costs about $350 million dollars So, the government paid $3 billion of our tax dollars to save $350 million.
We spent $8.57 for every dollar we saved.
I'm pretty sure they will do a great job with our health care, though.
----- Original Message -----
From: "Joseph F Troyan"
Clunker math
The person who calculated this bit of information went to high school in Pittsburgh, Pa. He is now & has been a professor at The University of West Virginia in Morgantown, West Virginia for the last forty some years. I never looked at the clunker program in such depth.
Clunker Math
Think of it this way: A clunker that travels 12,000 miles a year at 15 mpg uses 800 gallons of gas a year. A vehicle that travels 12,000 miles a year at 25 mpg uses 480 gallons a year. So, the average Cash for Clunkers transaction will reduce US gasoline consumption by 320 gallons per year. They claim 700,000 vehicles so that's 224 million gallons saved per year. That equates to a bit over 5 million barrels of oil. 5 million barrels is about 5 hours worth of US consumption. More importantly, 5 million barrels of oil at $70 per barrel costs about $350 million dollars So, the government paid $3 billion of our tax dollars to save $350 million.
We spent $8.57 for every dollar we saved.
I'm pretty sure they will do a great job with our health care, though.
Cars in Venezuela- Thanks Marge Rusnak!
December 12, 2010
Detroit’s Monsters Thrive on a Diet of Cheap Gas
By SIMON ROMERO
CARACAS, Venezuela — Ascending the narrow streets that wind through this city’s hillside slums, the graffiti steadily gets more radical and anti-American, repeatedly proclaiming “Yankees go home!” amid murals denouncing President Obama and Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton.
But at the same time, the cars get bigger — as in ’70s-style, gas-guzzling, Starsky-and-Hutch, Ford-Gran-Torino big — and American.
“We like our cars to be like tanks in this country, meaning they should be huge, comfortable and preferably manufactured in the United States,” said Miguel Delgado, 52, a mechanic in Los Frailes, a slum on this city’s western fringe, where he was working on a 1976 Dodge Coronet and a 1979 Chevrolet Impala.
The survival here of so many retro-chic American gas hogs, from Plymouth Valiants to Dodge Aspens and Chrysler New Yorkers, owes partly to the vagaries of Venezuela’s recent history and partly to its oil wealth. Motorists say that they drive these cars simply because they can. They smile when they hear that gasoline prices in the United States average about $3 a gallon, and much higher in parts of Europe.
Venezuela provides what might be the most generous fuel subsidy anywhere. Gasoline, currently less than 10 cents a gallon, is the cheapest in the world, undercutting even Saudi Arabia and Iran, other top oil-exporting nations, according to a study of global fuel prices by the German aid agency GTZ.
While Venezuela is a major oil producer, the subsidy still costs the government more than $9 billion a year. For all his populism, President Hugo Chávez has lamented its drain on public finances, calling gasoline prices “disgusting.”
But he has not touched the subsidy, which many Venezuelans consider a birthright. An increase in fuel prices in 1989 helped set off riots in which hundreds, perhaps thousands, were killed.
Today filling the tank of a 1974 Lincoln Continental, a 19-foot-long monster with a V-8 engine and mileage in the low teens, costs about $1, including a small tip for the gas-station attendant. “It’s a super-economical car,” said José Pereira, 41, the proud owner of one such model.
Many of the vintage land yachts tooling around Caracas today were imported during the heyday of “Venezuela Saudita,” Saudi Venezuela, in the early 1970s, when oil prices quadrupled and this developing nation became flush with petrodollars.
A sort of proto-Chávez populist president, Carlos Andrés Pérez, nationalized the oil industry, sent aid to Bolivia and tried to turn Venezuela into a player in the developing world. A Concorde flight linked Caracas to Paris. So many Venezuelan shoppers flocked to Miami that they were called “dame dos,” Spanish for “give me two.”
“My car reminds me of the era when Venezuela was the envy of Latin America,” said Jesús Regalado, 68, a taxi driver who still cruises the city in his 1975 Dodge Dart, which he bought new thanks to a government financing program.
Much has changed since then. Oil prices plunged in the 1980s, and in the ensuing tumult, Mr. Chávez, then an obscure military officer, led an unsuccessful 1992 coup attempt against Mr. Pérez. After his release from prison, Mr. Chávez had better luck with electoral politics, winning the presidency in 1998 and turning Venezuela from a country where the United States wielded considerable influence to a thorn in Washington’s side.
His new political alliances and another roaring oil boom, which ended abruptly in 2008, lined the roads with newer cars. An Iranian venture now manufactures a four-door sedan here called the Turpial. Officials have begun importing thousands of Russian Ladas.
In the capital’s wealthier districts, S.U.V.’s like Jeep Cherokees, Ford Expeditions, even the occasional Hummer, vie for space in clogged thoroughfares with smaller Toyotas, Daewoos, Hondas and Hyundais. Thousands of motorbike couriers weave through the gridlock, adding to the chaos.
Despite the newer cars, the low growl of American guzzlers still cuts through the din of traffic, evoking in some ways the love affair that people in Cuba, Venezuela’s top ally, have with pre-1960 American automobiles.
Some motorists say they buy the cars because spare parts are easily available. Others buy them to hedge against Venezuela’s high inflation. Used cars hold their value remarkably well here: a 1979 Ford LTD Landau, for instance, sells for about $5,200 here compared with about $1,500 in the United States.
Still, the eight-cylinder workhorses remain cheaper than newer models, explaining their prevalence in some poor districts of Caracas and other cities. But the affection for the aging American giants that saves so many of them from the crushers cannot be explained by economics alone.
“I love my Fairlane precisely because it is American,” said Freddy Gómez, 54, a deliveryman in this city’s gritty Boleita district who drives a red 1974 Ford Fairlane. Grinning with a hint of mischief, he pointed to a decal on the Fairlane’s rear window, which showed a mathematical equation involving the Ford logo plus a bottle of spirits plus a female figure. The sum: a couple in an amorous embrace.
“When people see me driving my Fairlane, they know I’m a man of style,” he said. “This car is the F-16 of the highways, friend,” he added, referring to the American warplanes, acquired before diplomatic relations soured with Washington and still flown by Venezuela’s Air Force.
But many of the aging American fleet seem more like rusting turboprops than sleek fighter jets.
A 1975 Chevrolet Nova parked in the Pedregal slum had its hood tied down with string and Yosemite Sam mats on the floor. Its paint job, in hues of brown, looked like the work of a would-be Mark Rothko, punctured with dings and dents.
“Yeah, my Nova has about 30 of them,” said its owner, Marcelino Rojas, 50, a house painter.
The rubber-burning days of some of these cars might be nearing an end. News reaching here from Detroit these days speaks of exotic new electric cars like the Chevrolet Volt and the Nissan Leaf. The announcement that General Motors was pulling the plug on Pontiac, the 84-year-old brand whose sales peaked in 1973, drew gasps among some Venezuelans.
“I find it hard to believe that the Americans would let Pontiac expire like that,” said Oswaldo Valdes, 21, a university student who owns a 1970 Pontiac Grand Prix. “In this country, this great automobile has decades of life ahead of it.”
María Eugenia Díaz contributed reporting.
Detroit’s Monsters Thrive on a Diet of Cheap Gas
By SIMON ROMERO
CARACAS, Venezuela — Ascending the narrow streets that wind through this city’s hillside slums, the graffiti steadily gets more radical and anti-American, repeatedly proclaiming “Yankees go home!” amid murals denouncing President Obama and Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton.
But at the same time, the cars get bigger — as in ’70s-style, gas-guzzling, Starsky-and-Hutch, Ford-Gran-Torino big — and American.
“We like our cars to be like tanks in this country, meaning they should be huge, comfortable and preferably manufactured in the United States,” said Miguel Delgado, 52, a mechanic in Los Frailes, a slum on this city’s western fringe, where he was working on a 1976 Dodge Coronet and a 1979 Chevrolet Impala.
The survival here of so many retro-chic American gas hogs, from Plymouth Valiants to Dodge Aspens and Chrysler New Yorkers, owes partly to the vagaries of Venezuela’s recent history and partly to its oil wealth. Motorists say that they drive these cars simply because they can. They smile when they hear that gasoline prices in the United States average about $3 a gallon, and much higher in parts of Europe.
Venezuela provides what might be the most generous fuel subsidy anywhere. Gasoline, currently less than 10 cents a gallon, is the cheapest in the world, undercutting even Saudi Arabia and Iran, other top oil-exporting nations, according to a study of global fuel prices by the German aid agency GTZ.
While Venezuela is a major oil producer, the subsidy still costs the government more than $9 billion a year. For all his populism, President Hugo Chávez has lamented its drain on public finances, calling gasoline prices “disgusting.”
But he has not touched the subsidy, which many Venezuelans consider a birthright. An increase in fuel prices in 1989 helped set off riots in which hundreds, perhaps thousands, were killed.
Today filling the tank of a 1974 Lincoln Continental, a 19-foot-long monster with a V-8 engine and mileage in the low teens, costs about $1, including a small tip for the gas-station attendant. “It’s a super-economical car,” said José Pereira, 41, the proud owner of one such model.
Many of the vintage land yachts tooling around Caracas today were imported during the heyday of “Venezuela Saudita,” Saudi Venezuela, in the early 1970s, when oil prices quadrupled and this developing nation became flush with petrodollars.
A sort of proto-Chávez populist president, Carlos Andrés Pérez, nationalized the oil industry, sent aid to Bolivia and tried to turn Venezuela into a player in the developing world. A Concorde flight linked Caracas to Paris. So many Venezuelan shoppers flocked to Miami that they were called “dame dos,” Spanish for “give me two.”
“My car reminds me of the era when Venezuela was the envy of Latin America,” said Jesús Regalado, 68, a taxi driver who still cruises the city in his 1975 Dodge Dart, which he bought new thanks to a government financing program.
Much has changed since then. Oil prices plunged in the 1980s, and in the ensuing tumult, Mr. Chávez, then an obscure military officer, led an unsuccessful 1992 coup attempt against Mr. Pérez. After his release from prison, Mr. Chávez had better luck with electoral politics, winning the presidency in 1998 and turning Venezuela from a country where the United States wielded considerable influence to a thorn in Washington’s side.
His new political alliances and another roaring oil boom, which ended abruptly in 2008, lined the roads with newer cars. An Iranian venture now manufactures a four-door sedan here called the Turpial. Officials have begun importing thousands of Russian Ladas.
In the capital’s wealthier districts, S.U.V.’s like Jeep Cherokees, Ford Expeditions, even the occasional Hummer, vie for space in clogged thoroughfares with smaller Toyotas, Daewoos, Hondas and Hyundais. Thousands of motorbike couriers weave through the gridlock, adding to the chaos.
Despite the newer cars, the low growl of American guzzlers still cuts through the din of traffic, evoking in some ways the love affair that people in Cuba, Venezuela’s top ally, have with pre-1960 American automobiles.
Some motorists say they buy the cars because spare parts are easily available. Others buy them to hedge against Venezuela’s high inflation. Used cars hold their value remarkably well here: a 1979 Ford LTD Landau, for instance, sells for about $5,200 here compared with about $1,500 in the United States.
Still, the eight-cylinder workhorses remain cheaper than newer models, explaining their prevalence in some poor districts of Caracas and other cities. But the affection for the aging American giants that saves so many of them from the crushers cannot be explained by economics alone.
“I love my Fairlane precisely because it is American,” said Freddy Gómez, 54, a deliveryman in this city’s gritty Boleita district who drives a red 1974 Ford Fairlane. Grinning with a hint of mischief, he pointed to a decal on the Fairlane’s rear window, which showed a mathematical equation involving the Ford logo plus a bottle of spirits plus a female figure. The sum: a couple in an amorous embrace.
“When people see me driving my Fairlane, they know I’m a man of style,” he said. “This car is the F-16 of the highways, friend,” he added, referring to the American warplanes, acquired before diplomatic relations soured with Washington and still flown by Venezuela’s Air Force.
But many of the aging American fleet seem more like rusting turboprops than sleek fighter jets.
A 1975 Chevrolet Nova parked in the Pedregal slum had its hood tied down with string and Yosemite Sam mats on the floor. Its paint job, in hues of brown, looked like the work of a would-be Mark Rothko, punctured with dings and dents.
“Yeah, my Nova has about 30 of them,” said its owner, Marcelino Rojas, 50, a house painter.
The rubber-burning days of some of these cars might be nearing an end. News reaching here from Detroit these days speaks of exotic new electric cars like the Chevrolet Volt and the Nissan Leaf. The announcement that General Motors was pulling the plug on Pontiac, the 84-year-old brand whose sales peaked in 1973, drew gasps among some Venezuelans.
“I find it hard to believe that the Americans would let Pontiac expire like that,” said Oswaldo Valdes, 21, a university student who owns a 1970 Pontiac Grand Prix. “In this country, this great automobile has decades of life ahead of it.”
María Eugenia Díaz contributed reporting.
Mental Health... Thanks Marge Rusnak!
Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to, doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have. Ralph and Edna were both patients in a mental hospital. One day while they were walking past the hospital swimming pool, Ralph suddenly jumped into the deep end.
He sank to the bottom of the pool and stayed there.
Edna promptly jumped in to save him. She swam to the bottom and pulled him out. When the Head Nurse Director became aware of Edna's heroic act she immediately ordered her to be discharged from the hospital, as she now considered her to be mentally stable.
When she went to tell Edna the news she said, 'Edna, I have good news and bad news. The good news is you're being discharged, since you were able to rationally respond to a crisis by jumping in and saving the life of the person you love.... I have concluded that your act displays sound mindedness.
The bad news is, Ralph hung himself in the bathroom with his bathrobe belt right after you saved him. I am so sorry, but he's dead.'
Edna replied, 'He didn't hang himself, I put him there to dry.
How soon can I go home?'
Happy Mental Health Day!
He sank to the bottom of the pool and stayed there.
Edna promptly jumped in to save him. She swam to the bottom and pulled him out. When the Head Nurse Director became aware of Edna's heroic act she immediately ordered her to be discharged from the hospital, as she now considered her to be mentally stable.
When she went to tell Edna the news she said, 'Edna, I have good news and bad news. The good news is you're being discharged, since you were able to rationally respond to a crisis by jumping in and saving the life of the person you love.... I have concluded that your act displays sound mindedness.
The bad news is, Ralph hung himself in the bathroom with his bathrobe belt right after you saved him. I am so sorry, but he's dead.'
Edna replied, 'He didn't hang himself, I put him there to dry.
How soon can I go home?'
Happy Mental Health Day!
Monday, December 13, 2010
Tech NO! Thanks Judi Cole!
I love this man, he and I think alike!!
Tech-No!
By Arnold Ahlert
Last weekend a friend from out of town came to visit. I have known him for a few years, but our relationship had never gotten to the point where I had ever seen his family or been to his house. Now I am quite familiar with both, courtesy of his I-Phone. And while most people carry around pictures of one's family, his house was another story: in order to show it to me, he logged on to Google Earth and, in combination with the zoom capabilities of his phone, I was able to get a good picture of where he lived. He was thrilled to show it to me. I was decidedly less thrilled that he could.
Last August, it was reported that the town of Riverhead, NY was using Google Earth to locate backyard swimming pools which they cross-checked with permit applications to see if those pools had been built legally. They discovered 250 illegal pools and collected nearly $75,000 in fines. When I read that story I wondered how many people thinking they were sunbathing in private (perhaps nude) had no idea they were being spied upon by their local government. I wonder how many Americans don't realize that such images, once captured, could then be downloaded to the internet--for international consumption.
Far-fetched? The Wikileaks document dump is many things, but first and foremost it is an exposure of information that the purveyors of that information thought was private--exactly what the residents of Riverhead could have reasonably assumed about their own back yards. In both cases such assumptions were completely erroneous.
At airports, Americans' expectations of privacy are now officially irrelevant. One has a choice of a completely revealing body scan, or the groping of one's body by a TSA agent, as a condition for flying. Senator Charles Schumer (D-NY) has announced he is putting together a new bill that would include up to a year in prison and fines of up to $100,000 for anyone caught reproducing the body scan images, which like images obtained from Google Earth, could easily be downloaded onto the web for public consumption. No doubt the irony that Mr. Schumer is attempting to criminalize an aspect of a problem created by government itself is lost on the Senator.
As for the scans themselves, al Qaeda is hard at work attempting to make them functionally obsolete. A jihadist online forum translated by experts at the SITE Intelligence Group reveals that terrorist bomb-makers and doctors are combining their talents with the hope of producing a surgically implanted--and completely undetectable--type of bomb composed of liquid explosives stitched into the abdominal cavity. TSA head John Pistole assured the public that TSA agents would not be doing body cavity searches because "you have to have some external device to cause that initiation," he said. "That's what the advanced imaging technology machine will pick up: any anomaly outside of the body" (italics mine.) Perhaps Mr. Pistole can't imagine a fuse being tucked into a certain body cavity or a fuseless device being detonated by a radio signal. One suspects al Qaeda operatives are far less myopic.
The common thread here is that privacy is becoming obsolete, and its demise can be directly traced to the advance of technology. Yet if it were simply the advance of technology and the public's acquiescence to it that were the problems, one might be less concerned where all of this is going.
Unfortunately, a substantial portion of the public is not merely acquiescent. There has been a generational transformation in the public's understanding of privacy. In short, older Americans value privacy. Younger Americans prefer exhibitionism.
That is a paradigm shift in our culture.
Perhaps such a shift was an accident waiting to happen. Yet the idea that millions of Americans spend inordinate amounts of time twittering, posting on Facebook and YouTube and other sites dedicated to Andy Warhol's idea that everyone wants their "15 minutes of fame" is evolving into far more than just a yearning to be noticed. A generation of younger Americans is getting quite comfortable with the idea that privacy has very little, if any, value. It is getting comfortable with the idea that there is virtually nowhere in the public arena where one can have any reasonable expectation that they are free from scrutiny.
And if the town of Riverhead, NY is indicative, the "public arena" now includes the outside of one's private property as well.
There is also something else I've noticed, though I'd be the first to admit such observation is strictly anecdotal. The ability to communicate without talking, or engaging in face-to-face interaction seems to be creating a generation of what might be charitably called socially dysfunctional individuals. That is an observation the friend mentioned above reinforced when he showed his I-phone to my wife and said, "my whole life is contained in that thing." No doubt he was exaggerating, yet that is the sense I also got at a recent dinner party I attended, where the entire conversation revolved around which of the latest phones had the best features.
Pardon me if I could care less.
Is there a line in the sand? If so, it might be temporary. The last generation of Americans who remember what it was like prior to the ubiquity of technological advances is heading toward their golden years. Those behind them will never know a world where the urgency of "being in touch" was superseded by the urge for "a little peace and quiet" at the end of a long hard day.
On the other hand, never underestimate the power of teenage rebellion. Perhaps some day in the not-too-distant future, when mom, dad, grandma and grandpa, are busy tweeting and texting away, the kids may decide the "new frontier" is a world away from the ubiquitous technology that fascinates their elders. And just to tweak the old folks, they might do something "radical" like running around outside--without bringing along their GPS tracking devices so their parents can't instantly locate them.
Am I a Luddite? This column was typed on a computer and emailed to my editor. But if you think you can reach me on my cell phone 24/7, think again. That little annoyance stays off unless I'm expecting someone to reach me, or I want to make an outgoing call. I have this quaint idea that my time is my own, and that includes getting away from technology as much as practically possible. That makes me a man woefully behind the times--or one on the cutting edge of a rebellion.
Here's hoping it's the latter.
Tech-No!
By Arnold Ahlert
Last weekend a friend from out of town came to visit. I have known him for a few years, but our relationship had never gotten to the point where I had ever seen his family or been to his house. Now I am quite familiar with both, courtesy of his I-Phone. And while most people carry around pictures of one's family, his house was another story: in order to show it to me, he logged on to Google Earth and, in combination with the zoom capabilities of his phone, I was able to get a good picture of where he lived. He was thrilled to show it to me. I was decidedly less thrilled that he could.
Last August, it was reported that the town of Riverhead, NY was using Google Earth to locate backyard swimming pools which they cross-checked with permit applications to see if those pools had been built legally. They discovered 250 illegal pools and collected nearly $75,000 in fines. When I read that story I wondered how many people thinking they were sunbathing in private (perhaps nude) had no idea they were being spied upon by their local government. I wonder how many Americans don't realize that such images, once captured, could then be downloaded to the internet--for international consumption.
Far-fetched? The Wikileaks document dump is many things, but first and foremost it is an exposure of information that the purveyors of that information thought was private--exactly what the residents of Riverhead could have reasonably assumed about their own back yards. In both cases such assumptions were completely erroneous.
At airports, Americans' expectations of privacy are now officially irrelevant. One has a choice of a completely revealing body scan, or the groping of one's body by a TSA agent, as a condition for flying. Senator Charles Schumer (D-NY) has announced he is putting together a new bill that would include up to a year in prison and fines of up to $100,000 for anyone caught reproducing the body scan images, which like images obtained from Google Earth, could easily be downloaded onto the web for public consumption. No doubt the irony that Mr. Schumer is attempting to criminalize an aspect of a problem created by government itself is lost on the Senator.
As for the scans themselves, al Qaeda is hard at work attempting to make them functionally obsolete. A jihadist online forum translated by experts at the SITE Intelligence Group reveals that terrorist bomb-makers and doctors are combining their talents with the hope of producing a surgically implanted--and completely undetectable--type of bomb composed of liquid explosives stitched into the abdominal cavity. TSA head John Pistole assured the public that TSA agents would not be doing body cavity searches because "you have to have some external device to cause that initiation," he said. "That's what the advanced imaging technology machine will pick up: any anomaly outside of the body" (italics mine.) Perhaps Mr. Pistole can't imagine a fuse being tucked into a certain body cavity or a fuseless device being detonated by a radio signal. One suspects al Qaeda operatives are far less myopic.
The common thread here is that privacy is becoming obsolete, and its demise can be directly traced to the advance of technology. Yet if it were simply the advance of technology and the public's acquiescence to it that were the problems, one might be less concerned where all of this is going.
Unfortunately, a substantial portion of the public is not merely acquiescent. There has been a generational transformation in the public's understanding of privacy. In short, older Americans value privacy. Younger Americans prefer exhibitionism.
That is a paradigm shift in our culture.
Perhaps such a shift was an accident waiting to happen. Yet the idea that millions of Americans spend inordinate amounts of time twittering, posting on Facebook and YouTube and other sites dedicated to Andy Warhol's idea that everyone wants their "15 minutes of fame" is evolving into far more than just a yearning to be noticed. A generation of younger Americans is getting quite comfortable with the idea that privacy has very little, if any, value. It is getting comfortable with the idea that there is virtually nowhere in the public arena where one can have any reasonable expectation that they are free from scrutiny.
And if the town of Riverhead, NY is indicative, the "public arena" now includes the outside of one's private property as well.
There is also something else I've noticed, though I'd be the first to admit such observation is strictly anecdotal. The ability to communicate without talking, or engaging in face-to-face interaction seems to be creating a generation of what might be charitably called socially dysfunctional individuals. That is an observation the friend mentioned above reinforced when he showed his I-phone to my wife and said, "my whole life is contained in that thing." No doubt he was exaggerating, yet that is the sense I also got at a recent dinner party I attended, where the entire conversation revolved around which of the latest phones had the best features.
Pardon me if I could care less.
Is there a line in the sand? If so, it might be temporary. The last generation of Americans who remember what it was like prior to the ubiquity of technological advances is heading toward their golden years. Those behind them will never know a world where the urgency of "being in touch" was superseded by the urge for "a little peace and quiet" at the end of a long hard day.
On the other hand, never underestimate the power of teenage rebellion. Perhaps some day in the not-too-distant future, when mom, dad, grandma and grandpa, are busy tweeting and texting away, the kids may decide the "new frontier" is a world away from the ubiquitous technology that fascinates their elders. And just to tweak the old folks, they might do something "radical" like running around outside--without bringing along their GPS tracking devices so their parents can't instantly locate them.
Am I a Luddite? This column was typed on a computer and emailed to my editor. But if you think you can reach me on my cell phone 24/7, think again. That little annoyance stays off unless I'm expecting someone to reach me, or I want to make an outgoing call. I have this quaint idea that my time is my own, and that includes getting away from technology as much as practically possible. That makes me a man woefully behind the times--or one on the cutting edge of a rebellion.
Here's hoping it's the latter.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)