For the third consecutive January, Mr. Baroke Oblahblah is promising the creation of jobs.
And since he’s now seen as the ‘boy who cried jobs’ one too many times, he appointed GE Chief Executive Jeffrey Immelt to lead a new President's Council on Jobs and Competitiveness.
Wow! This is serious. Another advisory panel.
Perhaps he should have gotten serious about job creation before he spent two years on a START treaty, “don’t ask, don’t tell” and the health care boondoggle.
Cities and states are cutting services as well as public safety employees in droves, California is a certified financial basket case, but we need to be more competitive, says the clueless wonder. Translation: We need to spend more newly printed federal dollars.
Yep, we’ll just spend our way out of a debilitating debt overload.
Yes we can!
Whether you’re a Democrat, a Republican, an Independent or a member of the Pan-sexual Peace Party, you had to be thinking what I was thinking after Chinese President Hu Jintao’s recent powwow with our, ahem, our so-called commander in chief.
Did Oblahblah not come off like a 98-pound weakling trying to win even the slightest of nods of approval from the hulking bully?
As a matter of full disclosure, does he even weigh 98 pounds?
I keep hearing this haunting jingle on WILK that goes like this: “Green, green, green…it’s your home, it’s your dream.”
At nearly every turn, the Fedrule Govmint is pushing that “green” agenda to the point of it being outright brainwashing. Yet, that very same government has exempted gas drilling companies from some rather crucial elements of the Clean Water Act, thereby making it perfectly legal to inject millions upon millions of gallons of “proprietary” fracking fluids into our soil and our watersheds.
So, my freaking light bulb has the potential to destroy our precious environment, but an unleashed and barely regulated Chesapeake Energy does not? Is that what I’m supposed to swallow?
When the ill-fated Knox Mine collapsed and took a goodly amount of the Susquehanna River with it in January 1959, people instantly knew what a lack of industrial oversight could mean to their local economy, to their local environment and to their immediate families.
But with hydro fracturing, it’ll likely take a generation before people realize that we were once again allowing industry to work too perilously close to our water.
Green, green, green…it’s methane in your stream.
I have this rule about convenience stores wherein I will not patronize any mini-market with less than two employees behind the counter. Allow me to explain.
For me, convenience means I grab a Diet Coke, pay for the thing within a minute or two, and then continue on with my wonderful day. But all too often, I would grab that aforementioned chemical concoction, and then wait an inordinate amount of time as one employee wrestled with two lines; the lottery line and the Access card line.
As a result, I only pop into the stores that have enough manpower on hand to keep things moving at a decent clip. No biggie.
At the new mini-market in the neighborhood here, a new phenomenon has managed to muck up the works. And in a particularly disturbing way.
At the new place, we have the lottery line. And then we have the Access card line. And we also have the line at the counter containing the numerous variations of artificial marijuana. This is a line dominated by young people. Some (you could say most) even appear to be underage.
First of all, how did we get to the point where we have to differentiate between legal and illegal forms of marijuana? Secondly, why do so many of our young people need to have a buzz on all day long? And thirdly, where are we headed as a nation when people are literally lining up in stores to secure their next high?
What ever happened to working hard all day and then going home and cracking a beer or two or three over some sports? Now it’s the norm to get wasted during the day? We’ve somehow begrudgingly legitimized this ill-advised behavior?
When my then-girlfriend told me she was pregnant, I was immediately thinking in terms of needing health insurance, all the overtime I could get and a promotion to management as fast as humanly possible.
After the fast-forwarding of three decades, I’m seeing young girls with one hand on a baby stroller and the other on a prohibitively priced vile of legal pot. And in plain view, no less.
Ah, times change, I suppose. And apparently, so do priorities.
Where once we went out and earned what was necessary, now young people just get high as often as possible and wait for the Govmint to supply them with what they think they need. And believe it or not, the Govmint which missed a crucial waypoint or two ups and reciprocates.
Oblahblah wants another stimulus package? He wants to invest even more into our infrastructure and whatnot? Okay, I’m in. Tell him we’re going to need more public housing, more intermediate units, more juvenile detention facilities and more prisons.
And instead of handing out surplus government cheese, how about surplus booze, drug and cigarette giveaways. Give the (young) people what they want, right? Not to worry though, Markie will be working all the overtime he can get to help pay for it all.
As my grandfather used to say, “Somebody needs a clip to the lip.” And you know what?
It ain’t me.