Intemperate stuff

I’m still trying to determine how scaling back full time kindergarten to half-day kindergarten somehow qualifies as grossly under educating…wait for it in deeply reverent tones…THE CHILDREN.

Remember, in my day, there was no such thing as all-day kindergarten. And many of those who came before my generation never attended kindergarten at all. And believe it or not, very many of us can get through even the worst of days without assistance. Or as presidential hopeful Herman Cain put it, “the department of happy.”

I guess we were just, you know, how do the class warriors from the left put it, “ more fortunate.”

For the purposes of condensing things, perhaps we could dispense with nap time, snack time (radiated fruits, veggies and bottled water only!), backpack safety training, Green 101, the risk-averse recess and the part about how Heather has a pansexual threesome in lieu of parents. Surrogate parenting of the lamest variety.

Yeah, we could give the old routine that produced rocket scientists (Hi, Dad, wherever you are) and scholars and playwrights and doctors and presidents another try. A half a day of pencils, chalk, reading, writing and ‘rithmetic. Oh, and how about some Dodgeball.

Then again, if we scaled things back and made them more economically proportionate, Big Education wouldn‘t be a bottomless money pit anymore. We can’t do that.

I dunno.

And before you go expounding on the merits of education and all things educating, know that, thanks to the politicization of education, educating has become not unlike Larping. They role-play, most of it looks real but isn’t and if you’re not real careful, it can get prohibitively expensive. It’s like, (wink, wink) mostly window dressing. You know, pretend.

Sez me.

I keep hearing all of this useless chatter about tornadoes, as if all or most of NEPA has recently been pounded flat. Here’s the scoop.

Either the weather patterns are cyclical in nature but always subject to change, or the end of the world is afoot as climate change is accelerating. And if the latter is upon us, the question begs, what to do about it?

Now, the folks that profess to know about all things that have never, ever occurred before tell us that we need to change-out our toilets, swap light bulbs, buy plug-in cars that have far less of a capability than my bicycles, recycle all of our coal-guzzling appliances, walk to the store even though we bought the pint-sized hybrids, eat only the natural foods known to have generated the most E-coli outbreaks and when we’re not out hugging trees during our lunch hours, embrace mass transit.

Meanwhile, those much more environmentally aware, far more educated and way too preachy folks are gassing-up their Escalades.

Sheep, they call you.

Anyway, when the killer tornado finally lays waste to this place, and as you are being propelled skyward to a certain death with your life passing across your eyes, you’ll probably regret not living your life to the fullest at the constant behest of the folks that did.

Huh. Suddenly, Studebaker Hoch--the superhero of the current economic slump--comes to mind. And…INTO…THE…SKY!!!

He could be a dog

Or a frog

Or a lesbian queen!

Fly to New York!

He could be a narc

Or a lady marine!

Sorry, sorry. I freaking hate when that happens. Never mind.

Yes, kiddies, as it turns out, sheep can indeed fly.

And that’s enough with blatant imbecility being used to make complete sophistry of incrementally induced mass imbecility.

Have a nice Green day, but keep one eye on the sky.

BAAAAH!!!

Later