ssǝɹddns ɹou ɹɐǝɟ ɹǝɥʇıǝu plnoʍ ʎʇǝıɔos ǝǝɹɟ ʎlnɹʇ ɐ ʇɐɥʇ ƃuıʇnɔolɯnɔɹıɔ suıɐʇuoɔ ǝʇıs sıɥʇ



Monday, December 24, 2012

Merry Xmas: Sanity is over

I am enjoying the hell out of my holiday hiatus from electronica. Ain't much point in it anyway.

We've got four more years of economic stagnation to look forward to, so there ain't much point in raging against the seriously malfunctioning machine. Our "Person of the Year" has everything under control.

I see we've hit a new low point by way of Newtown, Connecticut. I spent my formative years just a few miles down the road from Sandy Hook. The evil step-dad had a good friend from that town we'd meet at Lake Zoar for some barbecuing and swimming and the like. I can't think of a place least likely to produce an unspeakable nightmare.

The way I see it, politically expediant gun control measures cannot cure what ills our society.

Anyway, back in the day there was a nuthouse in the Newtown area. A facility that the step-dad always said I was destined for. He kept saying that there was no better candidate for shock therapy than yours truly. I figure he didn't consider it a shock for a boy to be punched in the face by a grown man, but we'll get on about all of that on another day. Then again, maybe not.

I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what is so alluring about cell phones, Twitter, Facebook and all of that needless, addictive gibberish. My kid suggested that I was getting old. I countered by saying that I'm not at all interested in what should have been an electronic ephemeron.

A couple of weeks ago, I watched a green-haired girl tumble into traffic while busily making love to her sexy phone device. She was like a zombie until she went face-first. Death by cell phone?

To my kid I would say, it must be me. It must be.

Wifey is cranking up the foodstuffs. We've got three grandrodents in tow, with a couple of kids soon to arrive. And I'm thinking of wandering on down to Schiel's for a gallon of cheap wine. Because, as far as I'm concerned, for the next four years, we should all be self-medicating very heavily. At least, while we can still afford to.

Sez me.



Anywho, them's all I got.

I'm getting nothing for Christmas.

Mommy and Daddy are gone.

Later

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Gun control?

Since a head shot is required to put the walking dead permanently out of commission, the following is yet another great argument against gun control.



Good stuff.

Later

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Holy buck!

After seeing this, I'm a thinkin' uh movin' the tribe to West Verginny or somewhere thereabouts.



Good, clean fun.

Later

Monday, November 26, 2012

Martellus Man

A six-foot six, 275-pound, weightlifting fanatic gone Big Bang Theory?

He credited his "spidey senses?"



Of course, since the fan fell out of, or was bumped out of the stands, he was taken away by New Jersey state troopers. No field for fans. No excuses. The giant (Giant) self-styled super hero came to your rescue. And now you're busted.

Could be worse, I suppose. He could be an Eagles fan.

Later

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Welcome to the revolution

I was drafted into the restaurant industry at the tender age of 14. I served my many tours and exfilled back to a normal, peaceful life at the age of 32.

I was good at what I was paid to do. In some respects, I was outstanding. To this date, I have extensive contacts within the industry, as well as multiple family members serving within the industry in management and corporate level positions.

I can't even imagine restaurant management in the face of rising fuel prices, rising food prices, the rising disinterest in actually working for one's check and the literal explosion of regulation since 2009. And now, thanks entirely to the left-of-center, we have this...



I know. I know the easily-led folks on the left side of the political divide now equate profit with abject evil, dishonest plundering and other assorted leftist claptrap. But, without the slimmest of profit margins remaining intact versus same-store sales during the prior fiscal year, jobs quickly go by the wayside.

The election is over. The celebratory snarkdom long behind us. Now, it's time for the grim and sobering realities to take effect.

By the way, I voted for Mitt.

Buh-bye



Friday, November 23, 2012

Xmas caroling

Merry!...Fu>king!...Christmas!



Idiots all.

Later

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Monday, November 19, 2012

Effin' Twinkies

There is certainly no shortage of zombie movies, zombie video games and, of late, zombie sightings. On that last note, as I happened to put it: Zombies spotted by freaks.

Anywho, the two zombie flicks I do like are both of the comedic variety: Sean of the Dead and Zombieland. And Markie's Oscar award goes to...hands down...to Zombieland.

Did I mention that I cannot get enough of Woody Harrelson? The dude is probably strange enough to pal around with the likes of moi. Weird sense of humor. Weird. Takes the wildest of scripts and roles.

Now that Hostess has been kiboshed by the union brothership, this clip from Zombieland came to mind. Woody and his twinkies. I love it. Only he could sell being totally transfixed on Twinkies during the zombie apocolypse.



Later

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Sandra hangover

Ever since Hurricane What's-her-name hit town, I've been able to connect to the Internet about as often as a job is created in this retracting country of ours.

So, earlier today, I called Bhopal, India and raised a ruckus about it. I was told that a work order would be created. And I was reminded that the "big wind" had blown through Pennsylvania. And then, lo and behold, just a tad bit later I could connect to the old 'net with relative ease. Go figure.

Anyway, I ain't dead just yet. And I offer the following...

If I encouraged people to torch the White House, you'd be done with me and hoping for my timely Internet demise. Perhaps worse.

Yet, when the Wilkes-Barre Taxpayer Association honcho encourages the torching of an entire section of the city, not a freaking peep.

Fire & Police more important than golf? Unless a rash of fires break out in Barney Farms (Calling all Pyromaniacs), or someone should decide to swipe more sewer gates (Calling all Thieves), I don’t think you’ll be able to sell that idea.


Activism is one thing. Encouraging lawlessness in the name of activism is a whole other thing.

That's my one thought.

Later


Saturday, November 17, 2012

Video Flapdoodle

Dated...

But still timely.



The private sector is now contracting at an alarming rate. You can see it, you can feel it and you can now live it while the Entitlement Sector expands even further.

Mitt Romney was for the rich.

May somebody or other have pity on us all.

Later

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Video flapdoodle

This is different.

The local traffic guy gives directions out of the country at the behest of viewers upset with the results of the election.

Notice that, according to him, you'll need a "card or passport" to cross over the Canadian border. Conversely, all one needs to cross over the southern border of the U.S. is a bag lunch and some sunscreen.



Later

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Four...More...Years

At first glance, this commentary will be rejected at being racist, sexist, too FOX-centric and blah, blah, effing blah.

Then again, check the final voting tallies. Nailed it!



What was that oft-misquoted bit about voting yourself largesse from the treasury?

Folks, we are post-apogee and accelerating downward.

Four...More...Years...of working shorthanded, doing more with less and paying more for less.

In other words, the few supporting the many.

Last night, abject failure was rewarded.

Four lost years become eight.

Oh, joy.

Bye

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Think pink?

My one thought during this current election build-up?

Where's Lou?



Uh, too busy?

Later

Waypoint

Yup. Did my civic duty this morning.

I know. The picture sucks. As if I care.


I heard on WILK that iffin' you change addresses, you need to show up at your new polling place armed with a valid picture ID, and then a couple of utility bills sporting your new address to seal the deal.

NOT!

The precinct workers called over some election official, he made a quick phone call and then I was sent packing to my usual voting haunt at Dan Flood elementary school. No biggie.

So, at 7:28 AM, I was logged in as Voter #38, proof to me that the electorate in that tiny voting ward was energized from the get-go. As was the case in 2008 and 2008 only, numerous black folks were in the early morning mix. And for the first time ever, a black woman sat amongst the poll workers. Seemed nice enough.

But, because of the relentlessly divisive hijinx of our sitting presidential trainee, I wondered to myself if she was in attendance simply to make sure that the white folks weren't up to some race-related election fraud. Sorry, but that's what immediately flashed across my denuded mind. It saddens me to think that things might have had to come to that. If, perhaps, the black folks showed up in appreciable numbers when non-blacks were on the ballots near the top of the ladder, then such thoughts would not occur to me.

According to the election official, I have to personally contact voter services to change my address, and, of course, my new voting haunt. All of which reminds me of Miracle on 34th Street. You know, if the United States Postal Service says that I, Markie, just happens to reside in Parsons, that ought to be good enough for the folks that embody what amounts to governance in the Luzerne County. Yeah.

Back at Dan Flood, there was a total of 1 poll worker(s) on the scene. Didn't look old enough to sport a single whisker. He handed me a card encouraging me to vote a straight party ticket for the Democrats. I took the card as I always do and always without comment, but I couldn't help but to wonder why some kid would feel so beholden to one of the two dominant political parties. Ah, don't much matter.

The way I see it, this election marks a waypoint for our country from which there might be no return. And at this particular waypoint, the folks who want to be left alone and to be able to earn a good life are squaring off directly against the politically amalgamated but still disparate groups who want something further from the depleted treasury.

And since I've expended all of my alloted political rounds by voting, all that's left to do now is to hope and pray.

Later

Monday, November 5, 2012

One...More...Day!!!

Like most registered Republicans, I can’t frickin’ wait to vote tomorrow morning.

Turnout, baby. Turnout!

The weird part is, I’m not even sure where my new polling place sits. But rest assured, I’ll find it.

Rather than vote for the embittered candidate of “revenge,” I’ll be voting for the adult.

Rather than voting for the creation of the new “secretary of business” cabinet position, I’ll be voting for someone who emanated from the private sector, understands the private sector and likewise
 understands that what the long-flailing private sector needs is a whole lot more pragmatism and a whole lot less pie-in-the-sky idealism.




Man, I am jazzed to know that the clueless and incompetent trainee who would be the king by executive fiat will soon be shipping off to Hawaii, his adopted pot-laden home. And to know that the four long, lost years will not morph into being eight even longer lost years.

Plus, it’s good to know that the vice president can finally do away with pretense and the seek the help that only a sanitarium can provide.

The next two days should be fun. Expect vandalism, shouting matches, sporadic violence and lots of pre-planned but post-election dirty tricks from the startled and horrified Democrats.

Enough with the vastly enhanced safety nets doubling as careers and a way of life. Enough with the free phones on my dime.

America is not Europe. America is not Greece. America is not hapless. And America is not yet hopeless. So it’s time to elect a leader who believes as much.

Wherever that polling place of mine is, I’ll see you there.

Later

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Sandy bloopers

A jet ski romp during a hurricane storm surge?

You can count me in.



G'nite

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Grandrodent alert

Left to right: Avery, Zachary and Jeremy.




We were visited by 63 trick-er-treaters tonight.

Pretty good by today's standards. But sad when measured by any other remembrance-driven metrics.

Later

Monday, October 29, 2012

Sandy: Yawn!!!

Even though the folks with the million dollar radar arrays were trying to tell us that the Mayans were off by a few weeks, ain't no death and destruction anywhere near here. Go figure.

And here, being an obedient sheeple, I went and snagged all of those much-needed hurricane disaster supplies: newspaper, smokes, beer, hoddog buns and a used Outlaws CD.


Wifey's killer, 5-pound Yorkie was scared out of it's wits. Hiding in Yorkie Dome, it is. Well, then again, we're talking about a dog that fits neatly into my work boot and that just happens to be afraid of rabbits. And sudden noises. And sudden movements. Sunlight. Darkness. Uh, and it's own shadow.


And I'd like to personally thank the Mayor for that 9 P.M. curfew. Thanks entirely to him, there will be no hurricane bikeabout this time around the disaster bend.

Whoa! The lights are flickering. The wind is freaking howling. Ain't no room for Markie in Yorkie Dome (a converted cat toy).

All that's left now is to wait for Frank Sorick's post-disaster hooliganisms when the lights come back on.

G'nite

Sunday, October 28, 2012

We could be giants

So I went to the big Halloween bash last night.

Not exactly my desired cup of tea, playing dress-up and the like. Drinking and eating works for me, though. But my daughter Ebon did play along, and how could the spot-on Eli Manning get-up not win the best costume ribbon? Some people.



Although, judging by that picture, we're going to have to work on her release point.


If you were a giant, you could be a New York Giant, which would be a very powerful giant indeed.---Tom Chapin


Later

2008 idiots

Hope and change!

Well, not during this term. Maybe next term. Maybe not at all.

Anyway...Forward!



Later

Idiot guide to November 6th

Forward to insolvancy...



Later

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Sunday morning musings

The following snippet was culled from today’s Citizens’ Voice…
"I think it's ridiculous," said Karen Ceppa-Hirko. "The mayor refuses to take pay cuts and cut people who are basically overpaid that work at city hall. There's a lot of people who make more money than they need to."
Well, I sure hate to sprinkle facts all over the well-worn claptrap, but if the mayor had not voluntarily decided to forego the pay increases he is entitled to, his current salary would be in excess of $96,000.

Nope.

No pay cut there.

Then we have this…

W-B is hit with fuel bill
WILKES-BARRE – The state Department of Revenue has slapped the city with a nearly $26,000 bill after investigators could not account for more than 67,000 gallons of fuel dispensed over a two-year period.

The probe, which was prompted by a Times Leader investigation in June, determined a total of 37,272 gallons of gasoline and 29,894 gallons of diesel missing from the city’s pumps at the Department of Public Works building from July 2010 to July 2012.
  The state says the fuel is unaccounted for. The Times Leader lists it as being missing. The activist/candidates have gone so far as to call the fuel “stolen.” And in print, no less.

Well, now that those employed by the city are documenting fuel usage, let’s just see if the documented usage roughly equates the undocumented usage in terms or bulk fuel purchases over that same two year timeframe.

Methinks it will.

A balanced, uh, a balanced…budget?

In Luzerne County?

$122.25M plan avoids a tax hike

Instead of Oblahblah or Romney, perhaps we should write in Robert and Lawton on election day.
From Larry Kudlow…
In a larger budget context, reporter Jeffrey H. Anderson uses a Treasury Department study to chronicle the 7-Eleven presidency. In fiscal year 2012, ending Sept. 30, the government spent nearly $11 for every $7 of revenues taken in. The exact figures are $2.5 trillion in tax revenues and $3.5 trillion in spending. In other words, it spent 44 percent more than it had coming in. Previous fiscal years look even worse: The government spent 56 percent more than revenues in fiscal year 2011 and 60 percent more in fiscal year 2010.
 All in all, according to Anderson, the government under the Obama administration received $6.8 trillion in taxes and spent $10.7 trillion — 56 percent more than it had available.

Yep. Time for the Fedrule Govmint to adopt the Lawton Doctrine. You know, sanity.
Not to single anyone out, but I love it when the local media types routinely chastise us “low information” commoners for escaping reality (politics) by way of reality television or professional sports while they spend an inordinate amount of time trolling away on Twitter and Facebook.

You tell me, man. They only pay me here to type.

Whatever.

Off to fantasy land, I am.

Later

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Thursday one-liners

After spying the Tarah Toohil “Pizza Party” thingamabob, I offer the following…

If I published even a partial recap of what I reaped upon society when I was eighteen-years-old, the lot of you would unite in electing Toohil our first woman pontiff up Vatican way.

No, no same-sex escapades, illegal substances or any of that usual leftist fare. Mostly drinking until one pukes, and then defiantly drinking more and more. Oh, and the auto-hostility stuff when engaged by the hordes of beer-muscled brave.

You know. Fun stuff.

Anyway, the Pizza Party is a non-starter in my spinning vortex of a mind.

Uh, not exactly shared sacrifice, is it?

More like an insult to our intelligence (some of us) and sensibilities.

So much for Coach Jim Harbaugh’s much-inferred claim that the New York Football Giants went on to win the Super Bowl that his San Francisco 49ers rightfully deserved to win.

So much for the smack-talking 49ers putting the Super Bowl champion Giants in their place last week.

So much for home-field advantage twice over.

Giants 26-49ers 3.

Pardon my broken Yiddish, but Harbaugh is a egomaniacal dick.

So, the flailing pretender-in-chief has abandoned the absurd Big Bird strategy and gone all in on the ridiculous “binder full of women” gambit.

Meanwhile, he steers far left of the binders full of trillions in debt, binders full of newly recruited, millions strong welfare queens and the binders full of naïve foreign policy blunders.

Binders?

The only thing binding this country is the incompetent pretender-in-chief.

I’ve read that black folks from all over the country are threatening via Twitter to riot when it becomes obvious that Baroke Oblahblah and that scrappy smart-ass from Scranton have lost the upcoming election.

In addition, Mitt Romney has received innumerable death threats via the sewer of the electronic age…Twitter.

Plus, there’s been numerous news reports of people having their vehicles and homes vandalized simply because they were proudly sporting Mitt Romney campaign paraphernalia.

So, we’ve got rampant vandalism and countless threats of violence as we march on towards election day.

Apparently, the patent on naked racism has expired.

Don't matter much to me. I'll be armed.

Buh-bye

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

If we'd all been living in...

Much unlike the vast majority of the visibly distracted, easily-led fools around me, I am not married or engaged to a mobile electronic device. Imagine that.

Facebook, Twitter, texting and similar electronic tomfoolery is far, far beneath my level of sophistication and self-satisfaction, as is using an electronic application in lieu of decades of acquired smarts. And of late, being a member of the local blog-agensia has gotten stale.

For instance, most of the polibloggers in NEPA are lobbying very hard for a second term for Baroke Oblahblah. In other words, they are beckoning you to reward the abject failure of all know presidential failures.

Sorry, but I cannot feature self-serving dishonesty poised as enlightened commentary. On November the 7th, they’ll be telling you how the sky is going to fall just as soon as the opposite camp assumes control of the White House come January 2013.

Anyway, even though it’s been all-consuming to me for months, I’m done with trying to help expose the obvious inadequacies of the imposter-in-chief.

Done.

On a more local note, the activist crazies are sure to have the phlegm flying now that Mayor Tom Leighton has announced that tax and fee increases are about to become a part of Wilkes-Barre’s new reality.

Is it just me, or are the crime watch folks, the taxpayer association folks, the Wake Up Wilkes-Barre defamation folk and the Independent Gazette folks not the same half-dozen folks spewing the same incendiary and vitriolic messages over and over again while all the while pretending to be disassociated groups?

Isn’t that a tad dishonest? And why is it that the local press pretends not to notice? Deadlines, I suppose. And what better exclamation point could be added to a submitted news blurb than the ranting and raving of those armed with mean-spirited banalities?

The country is broke, the state is broke, but Mayor Tom Leighton should be tarred, feathered, drawn and quartered for having to adjust on the fly during what the economically pragmatic have repeatedly called an economic depression?

That’s utter poppycock.

And to those who would stupidly suggest that he should somehow be held responsible for demographic upheaval, an illegal invasion and seemingly accelerating societal decay, well, don’t ever allow your persistence coupled with high volume to be mistaken for brilliance.

There are many cities equating the size of this one with volunteer fire departments, privatized services and much lesser-staffed police departments. And I can guarantee you that those cities are not completing high-profile projects, overseeing the rejuvenation of a once shuttered downtown or in the midst of the planning for more aforementioned projects.

There are activists in most of our local municipalities. But only in Wilkes-Barre do the so-called activists (candidates) constantly tell all who could hear them or who could read their words that Wilkes-Barre has absolutely no redeeming qualities, no amenities, no attractions, and that all of it’s elected and appointed leaders are soon destined for the hoosegow.

Liars lie.

Our mayor first took office in 2004. The first signs of our comeback from insolvency and irrelevance began in 2006. And he’s been trying to stave of the paralyzing and polarizing effects of an economic depression ever since.

And if there is a actually a capable replacement among the half-dozen “activists” relentlessly sniping away at him from a half-dozen inter-related organizations, they have yet to rear their ugly fat head.

Sez me.

Them’s all I got.

Later

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

War on Big Bird? The Adults are coming! The Adults are coming!

First we're told that we cannot properly educate our children without the addition of legions of new unionized teachers.

And then next we're told that our kids would be akin to feral kids hunting rats in trailer parks without Sesame Street.



Coal?

Oil? Affordable gasoline?


Who needs that silly Earth-sullying sh*t when you've got Solyndra?

Later





Monday, October 8, 2012

Monday one-liners

So, my beloved Atlanta Braves win 95 games, earn an invite to a 1-game playoff “series,” and just when they have the flood gates about to burst open the umpires call an infield fly rule on a ball hit to the outfield.

When did the NFL replacement refs make their way over to Major League Baseball.

Thanks to a slipping product, I’d don’t listen to near as much WILK talk radio as I used to.

The afternoon show has been replaced by 102.3 The Mountain. I still take in the Limbaugh show simply because he is always all over the latest. I miss Michael Savage’s scattershot musings. I wouldn’t think of missing Sue Henry of my own volition. And, while I absolutely love John Webster’s wit, his morning sidekick has made tuning in almost untenable while armed with her daily DNC talking points.

This morning she refereed to the folks comprising the blogosphere as “low information people.” This, of course, comes from someone desperately and frantically arguing for another disastrous Oblahblah term.

Consider the hyper-partisan source.

Somebody delivered a copy of the Wilkes-Barre Independent Gazette to our front porch.

After glancing at the roster of staff and writers, I fail to see how the word independent could be attached to said crew, but no biggie. While I would always read the thing cover-to-cover out of sheer curiosity, the issue I received was really lacking in content.

And if you want steady readers, you need content, content and content.

The latest DVD in the long-running, always suspenseful and grotesque Alien series hit’s the stores tomorrow…Prometheus.

Count me in.

Why will Baroke Oblahblah lose the election a little more than a month from now?

He can’t defend his lackluster record.

Try as he and his surrogates may, he can’t seem to vilify his opponent.

He can’t tell us what a second term might bring because he has no clue.

The folks that make the private sector hum want both him and his health care debacle repealed before further economic damage is done.



Finally, the average folks that are America agree that they never thought it could get this bad in this country. And while it all burns around them, he continues to fiddle, party, fund raise and play golf. Turns out, he’s the candidate that’s out of touch with the American public.

Oh, and you know you're getting there (old) when your grandson shows up with a cell phone.

Them’s all I got.

Later

Sunday, October 7, 2012

From the email inbox

Tim Mullen...
In our upside down world of politics, public servants have become the masters. Masters have become slaves. What was once regarded as patriotic, frugal, or fiscally sound is now regarded as radical or extreme. The clowns of my generation have given away the whole circus only to stick the tab on the young or so they think. Make no doubt about it, unless your time left on earth is short, we are all going to learn about loss, if you are not already being tutored. I have become too much of a Cynic to believe that things can be turned around and have begun to prepare for what lies ahead along with anyone that will listen to me.


Enter Aaron Kaufer an energetic young man, who introduced himself to me over a year ago that made his intentions clear that he was going to run for State Representative against incumbent Phyllis Mundy. Among other things, Aaron supports elimination of the archaic and unconstitutional property tax to fund schools. He believes in eliminating the extravagant pay and perks our so called servants now receive. Aaron understands that wealth cannot be conjured up out of thin air. His opponent, however well intentioned, has instilled dependency in those that receive, and at the same time created a disincentive for the givers that still produce.

Can Aaron make a difference in Harrisburg? My answer is probably not alone. I don't think that he or anyone can change the trajectory this county, state and especially this country is headed for. He and his generation deserve, and will have the chance to pick up the pieces and rebuild a strong foundation that this county, state, and country were once built upon. I encourage all voters, including the nearly 3,000 independent minded supporters of the 120th legislative district that stood by my side in the 2010 election, to consider a vote for Aaron this November 6th.

 
Tim Mullen

15XX West 8th St

Wyoming, Pa. 18644

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Truth be told...

2007...



Video courtesy of The Daily Caller.

Buh-bye, Oblahblah.

G'nite


Monday, October 1, 2012

Monday one-liners

From CBS Sports.com…

Harvey's Lakers won the Rainy Day Home Equity Championship by a score of 384.5 to 235.5 over London Rippers. Kris Medlen led the team in scoring in the championship round and Cole Hamels led the team in scoring for the season. Congrats once again to Harvey's Lakers on a terrific Fantasy Baseball Season. Hope to see you all next year!
Yep. They talked me into giving fantasy baseball a go. Then I went and got me a championship on my very first try.

For those of you who smartly bother to escape our increasingly insufferable collectivist reality, 26 games (weeks), 7435 points.

I’m the man.

So, the unemployment rate in NEPA is on the rise yet again, which just happens to the highest metro rate in the state.

The next time the Chamber folks get to slapping themselves on their hairy backs all over again while yammering on about all the jobs they’ve brought to our local industrial parks, know the following.
The Hanover, Crestwood, Valmont, Humboldt and McAdoo industrial parks employ untold tens of thousands of Hispanics.

And since their employers are basing their hiring primarily on tax incentives that accompany hiring minorities, the disadvantaged, the less fortunate or whatever some short-sighted, vote-pandering politico calls them---those jobs coming to the industrial parks mean little or nothing to the vast majority of us indigenous folks.

Facts is facts.

I find it excruciatingly flummoxing to find Barry Oblahblah within fighting distance of winning a second term.

Even though the seditious media has it’s collective prehensile mouth all over his member, it’s obvious, it’s documented that he is to incompetence what Charles Manson is to criminality. Face it, he's a self-impressed lightweight.

Questionable polling data and the treasonous media aside, I still say the know-it-all charlatan gets shown the door in a few short weeks. And I have based that on the fact that older folks vote in greater numbers and, right now, our older folks are absolutely horrified by the precipitous decline that this country has experienced while the charlatan-in-chief chastised them between thousands of rounds of golf.

And the younger voters---who came out in droves in support of their pop idol during the last presidential election--will fail him horribly this time.

The young?

Hell, they’ve got the sexy cell phones, data plans, the perfunctory bottled water, the bitchin’ shades, the tattoos, the freak-show-tent piercing, the garish-looking dyed hair, the feral children, health care ‘til their 26, the state-issued access cards and the state-issued unemployment cards.

They’ve become fat, happy, stupid, illiterate and totally detached from the reality that there really isn’t, nor should there be a free ride available to the able-bodied.

Tell me I’m wrong.

Finally, an all-day conference on blogging?

Must be me. It’s not rocket science. There are no apogees, perigees, escape velocities or hyper-velocity impact shielding involved.

Point…type. Done!

If nobody takes notice, make real nice with some other blogger who generates lots of hits.

End lesson.

Them's my thoughts.

Later

Monday, September 24, 2012

Oblahblah That I Used To Know

Gotye parody.

Starts slow. Give it a chance.



Later

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Tevin Smith died earlier today

Sans the gridiron stuff, this one reminds me of the relationship I had with my brother Ray.

Funny, I didn't catch the name in the beginning, but I kept thinking that the chick in this video seemed very, very, very familiar to me.


Visit NBCNews.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy


Never know when a role model just might appear out of thin air.

Later

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Video Flapdoodle

Still bitchin' after all these years...

I...Like...



Bitchin!

Later

Promised Land movie

I’m not sure how he does it, but KD never misses a frickin’ fracking thing.




The official trailer for 'Promised Land' starring Matt Damon, John Krasinski and Frances McDormand. A salesman for a natural gas company experiences life-changing events after arriving in a small town, where his corporation wants to tap into the
available resources.

For the full story read Deadline.com

Movies 14, here I come.

Later

Anything? Anything at all?

After a 14-hour workday that could best be described as long periods of solitude occasionally interrupted by customers, I had fully processed the following question I posed to myself: Is anything better off than it was four years ago?

Anything? Anything at all?

Perhaps someone can help me with this, but I’m of the opinion that nothing is better than four years ago. In fact, everything has gotten noticeably worse. And in most cases, much, much worse.

As far as leadership goes, we have a cadre of dubious Cook County goons legislating by way of executive fiat through the backdoor in the backroom.

Our feckless rock star of a “leader” who does not want to see David Letterman in the buff cannot be pried away from the golf course, celebrity-laden parties or the campaign trail. He is to hands-on leadership what swallowing glass is to digestive health. Not very presidential.

Our Carter-esque foreign policy is obviously a joke gone up in smoke and flames, with our enemies emboldened and our staunch allies having been thoroughly snubbed and rebuked at every turn. Malvinas? No, Barry. Try Falkland Islands.

Our energy policy amounts to no energy at all. Or if you will, no policy at all. A trip to the gas pumps has you filled with dread? No, Bush didn’t do that.

Between the Fed’s ineffectual monetary manipulation, a lack of a Fedrule budget for four years, the government’s previously unheard of entitlement outreach, and the so-called “stimulus” handouts to party apparatchiks, we’ve got record debts that are still growing by leaps and bounds and trillions with every passing second.

Still, despite record deficits, we're told it's mean and hateful to reduce a single line item on the non-existant budget.

And what did we get for our trillions in new debt? Truncated domes at every intersection. Rubber mats at the curb line.

There are so many Americans out of work, on most days it seems if I’m the only one not milling around somewhere in pursuit of illicit narcotics and taxpayer-provided cell phones.

Record food prices have become a problem for too many of those among us. Hell, if there was any money in it, you could classify food pantries as being a growth industry. Again, for too many, backyard gardening is no longer a hobby. It’s a necessity. Face it, we've become a nation of penny pinchers waiting for the dollar to collapse.

The one-time American Dream---home ownership---has all but turned into the American Nightmare.

Large and small businesses alike are under the repressive duress that excessive regulation has brought to them. Corporations are now vilified by the chastiser-in-chief. Meanwhile, employers from sea to sea are awaiting the ticking financial time bomb that is Oblahblahcare.

I fail to see how kowtowing to an avowed enemy that keeps striking at us puts any fear or begrudging respect into their blackened hearts. And I find it impeachable that a sitting president would render military support to those who would stone us to death for something as miniscule as wearing a bikini on a public beach.

Our military is being systematically gutted.

NASA has been reduced to a high-tech model rocketry club.

The Fedrule Govmint is far beyond broke. Our states are going broke. Our cities are broke. And our school districts are broke and broken.

And before I go on, know that I do not spend my workweek in a cubicle staring at pictures of my loved ones. I am on the road, and I can be in any of six different counties on any given workday.

In a word, the mood of the populace is glum bordering on broken. People are out-of-work, downsized, depressed, dispirited and shocked by the realization that their country has been hijacked by executive fiat and all but bankrupted in a fortnight by a know-it-all charlatan obviously not very big on American values, American traditions or America’s long proud identity.

So, with all of that typed, I turn it to you…

Is anything better off than it was four years ago?

Anything? Anything at all?

Later

Monday, September 17, 2012

"Friends"

I just reduced my Facebook imprint from 68 “friends” to 34.

Further electronic bloodletting will ensue.

Face it, folks, “social networking” is needless, mindless doddering replete with idiocy, illiteracy, pop icon salivating and political idolatry. Admit it. Move on.

Tell me I’m wrong, tweeter twits.

I deleted all of my blog friends because, quite frankly, their Facebook existence amounts to little more than links back to their blogs. As in, relentless, shameless self-promotion.

Back when my formative years were barely underway, the shrinks said I was hyperactive and that I had auto-hostility issues which needed to be overcome. As a result of that prodding and poking, I spent the remainder of my life pointing to the Good Mark moments whenever anyone sought to rehash the Bad Mark moments, which were of the fast and furious and ugly variety. In other words, I spent decades learning how to make nice. Bite your tongue. Keep your fists unclenched. All of that chick stuff that keeps one out of a cell block.

I’ve made like a good boy for quite a long while. Wifey is happy. She’s happy that I haven’t come home with blood sprinkled across torn shirts for a long, long time. She feels safe, and she likes to think that she has me encased in glass only to be unleashed in case of an emergency.

But, at this late date, I have to be true to what I know, I have to stop repressing the ingrained agressiveness no matter who might take issue with me and all of my many embedded scars.

Social networking is the modern day equivalent of inane crayon scribbling on the walls of bathroom stalls. It is the Smithsonian of wasteful pursuits. It is the new age replacement of what was once meaningful, face-to-face human interaction.

So, while the “real” world twits, tweets, texts, shouts, snarls and shares utter gibberish on Facebook---the new MySpace---I’ll be doing what I always do, hanging with people all over Luzerne County and parts of six others.

But since we’re no longer “friends,” you will no longer know about any of that.

Oh, well.

G’nite

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Fools and the Democrats who elect them

Arab Spring.

Another egregious mistake by Barry & Co. that will burn like a Haitian rubber necklace around the necks of America and it's allies until the fast-approaching conclusion of WWIII.



By the way, in case you missed it, all Russian ground and naval forces are currently disengaging from the Syrian port of Tartus in advance of the expected further Western military meddling, which could fast result in a regional conflict being that our asswipe-in-chief has made it blatantly obvious to the now-surrounded Israelis that if they really don't want to be vaporized by nuclear weapons, they have to wait until after his reelection to beg further for their continued existance.

I don't care what the polls say. The vast majority of Americans who bother to vote are not stupid enough to re-elect the biggest snake oil fool who ever hit the big time. Hopefully, we'll be able to vote him out of office before the Middle East turns into the war predicted in those ancient books of ancient date.

If not, I imagine we could get by by drinking rainwater and eating slugs after the dog food runs out.

Later

Friday, August 31, 2012

Occupy RNC interview

"It's not jobs we need. We need housing and food."---Obama Youth

A chance encounter with a member of Occupy RNC at the Republican National Convention in Tampa, Florida.



99 weeks and whaddaya get? Another beer pong trophy and we're deeper in debt.

Later

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Numbers don't lie

All collectivist ideas. No practical experience. No workable plans.

No clue.



The "Youth" vote?

If the so-called youth are college educated, living in their parents basement, still on Daddy's health insurance plan and not getting hits on the multitudes of resumes they've submitted, it's time for them to register and vote for hope rather than radical change.

Nope!

They just had to spurn the qualified chick, the Dems just had to screw over Hillary in favor of the mystery charlatan.

Later

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Official Movie Trailer

The Hope And The Change.com



He vacations, he plays golf, he shoots hoops, he campaigns, he raises funds and he parties with Hollywood like it's 1999. Meanwhile, you live paycheck-to-paycheck.

Romney's out of touch?

Later

Monday, August 27, 2012

One small step for man, one giant step backwards for mankind

The modern day explorer who thought he would not return from his historic voyage questions the highly dubious funding priorities of the community organizer turned interplanetary know-it-all.



Neil Armstrong, R.I.P.

I can't remember being so completely transfixed on anything.

Later

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Family

The following circumlocution is being posted in response to some familial infighting.

I once had a father, as well as two stepfathers. At the age of three, I was kidnapped over many state lines and I did not see my family until I was almost 5-years-old.

My first stepfather beat me repeatedly for even the most minor of childhood infractions. Years later, pent up rage manifested itself when the situation became reversed and had me beating on my, ahem, second stepfather.

I once watched my mother assault step dad #1’s skull with a claw hammer. I also saw her point a 30-odd-6 at his face and pull the trigger. I watched helplessly while he pounded on her many times over. And I even saw him launch a stove down a flight of steps which rolled right over her. I once went to Bradley Elementary with my back and buttocks lashed so badly and still bleeding that the teacher yanked me out of class, the school nurse insisted that I disrobe and the principal called the police.

I watched in horror when he punched my then 4-year-old sister in the face for eating a Scooter Pie without permission. I saw him shoot and kill the neighbor’s dog. I saw him shoot my mother in the head with a pellet gun. And if this isn’t crazy enough, my mother once grabbed me by and hand and fled the local Stop ‘n’ Shop after he decided to assault some mouthy guy in the deli line.

When she finally filed for divorce and was notified that he was being released from the local VA hospital against the advice of the local police, I helped her frantically barricade the interior of our home while she sobbed uncontrollably out of sheer fear.

Trust me, after 10, say 11 years of dysfunctional marital discord and the like, neither of the two principal players can claim victim status when the discord finally comes to an abrupt halt. You see, it takes two to tango. Or, should I say, two to tangle.

Whether anyone realizes it or not, and whether anyone can admit to it or not, the only players that can rightfully claim victim hood status during and after the tumult are the innocent bystanders…the children.

So, going forward, it matters not which side can spin the best yarn, or which side can best rewrite history. All that matters now is how everyone involved can work together for the good of the children…my grandchildren.

Them’s all I got.

Later

11 days to go

Write this down...

David Wilson.



Can't wait.

Later

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Givers 'n takers

Go figure.

I'm a non-participatory Christian, I'm white, I'm married and I'm already being relentlessly harassed by the A.A.R.P., that Democrat, quasi PAC group.

Source: Fox News poll: Race for the White House tightens

As far as I"m concerned, these here excerpted numbers speak volumes upon volumes.
Both tickets have already gained the support of many of their key voting blocs. Romney has the edge among white Evangelical Christians (70-18 percent), white voters (53-36 percent), married voters (51-38 percent), men (48-40 percent) and seniors (50-41 percent).
Obama has the advantage among black voters (86-6 percent), women (48-42 percent), lower income households (53-35 percent), young voters (48-39 percent) and unmarried voters (55-34 percent).
The folks that drive America support Romney. The folks that want to derive from America support the hand-out charlatan.

When next we vote, our future as a functional and economically viable country is on the line.

Later

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

2016

Dinesh O‘Souza‘s “2016: Obama’s America” is in theaters now.









Saboteur-in-chief, anyone?

Later

Monday, August 20, 2012

It doesn't matter if people get hurt...

This one struck a nerve…

From the Hazleton Standard Speaker: Informant: 17-year-old accomplice in Reznick murder
The Ebervale man who died after being found beaten and bloodied on a Hazleton street escaped from the trunk of a vehicle into which he was forced after being robbed of his cellphone, according to court papers.

Breon Davonne Judon and a teenager beat Aaron Reznick after they stole his iPhone at gunpoint, investigators say in a probable cause affidavit that outlines charges of homicide and other crimes against Judon.

Nice. A guy was killed for his sexy, 21 billion jiggawatt phone. And it kind of plays into what I’ve been up to of late.

As was previously noted here, I recently moved, so I’ve been busy and then some while following up on all of that. Work has been flat-out nuts. And thanks to a hefty price increase coming from our previous Internet host, I have been busily investing in the creation of a new fantasy football haunt. I’ve been busy, namely, too busy for any of this blogging malarkey.

Anyway, I’m 53-years-old, and closing in on 54. And since the Boy Scouts permanently instilled that “Be Prepared” attitude deep within me, it’s the rarest of days when you find me unarmed. Not that I need a weapon to defend myself. As I have capably demonstrated many, many, many times in the past, I can scrap with massive adrenaline bursts and extreme prejudice as my only guides.

We all have some sorts of talents. You have yours. I have mine.

During the past two years, I have had one violent encounter in Hazleton. It worked out really, really good for me, but not so good for the Hispanic-looking thief that tried to steal my tools out of my work truck. I made him crawl away. Literally. I told him not to get up off of the tarmac so as to not get pummeled all over again. He complied.

I had another incident last summer on Altar Street In Hazleton that could have gone the way of violence, except for the fact that I brandished a claw hammer and challenged the three Hispanic-looking types (who had me flanked while demanding that I make change for a twenty) to an all-out death scrum. They cursed. They chuckled at the white boy. But they turned and walked.

I also was part of an incident here in Wilkes-Barre whereby a tenant of public housing was threatening one of my co-workers. I simply told the guy he was out of line. And when he focused his energies on me and his finger got stuck in my face, I told the guy in no uncertain terms that he was only seconds away from being horribly beaten. He ran away, but he got on the phone looking to cause trouble for me. He failed.

Getting back to my impending birthday, I can see why people feel more and more vulnerable to the seemingly growing criminal element as they grow older and still older. And for good reason, too. As our physical plants slowly fade away, we typically wear that increased vulnerability that we feel on our sleeves.

And the lawless idiots thrive on their perception of inherent fear that automatically comes with old age. And it is for that very reason that I recently made the decision to get back to my prime fighting weight, and, more importantly, back to the six-pack abs days of old.

If I can still do it at 53, I see no reason to assume I’ll still be able to do it at 63. I have not had an epiphany. I’m not undergoing a mid-life crisis. I seek not a younger, sexier female type. And I hope to impress no one but myself.

I have modified my diet, and I’ve shed 14 pounds since June the 1st. I shaved away my facial hair, and Wifey buzzed my scalp with the electric buzzer. I’ve upped the use of dumbbells as well as resumed the isometrics routine I once had. Even though most of those who know me think I’m some whacked-out vegetarian, I have increased my protein intake so as to replace the remaining fat with muscle. I’ve resumed the bicycling regimen with increased vigor. And you never know, I might even get in some paddling one of these days.

My point is this, and you can call me whatever you wish in response: In an increasingly lawless, violent and unforgiving world, I reserve the right to inflict more violence upon the phony brave than I am likely to receive from them.

It ain’t no big deal. It is what it is. It’s just me being me. I’d like to see very, very, very many of you adopt the exact same mindset as societal decay accelerates. And I'm remembering my machismo-soaked motto from the old days when I used to get paid to beat drunk people into submission while the police were still en route...

It doesn't matter if people get hurt so long as the right people get hurt.

As WILK’s Joe Thomas once said, “Oh, man. That Mark Cour is as hard-core as they come.”

Yepper. And getting harder every day.

Join me.

Later

Thursday, August 16, 2012

WBASD: Elected organized crime

So much for that long-awaited, but long, long-delayed nepotism policy.

Seems like some unwanted interlopers upped and changed the tired agenda.



Remember the well-worn catchphrase, it's "for the children."

As if.

I try not to hate on most days, but it's getting harder and harder not to.

Later

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

OPSEC to Obama: "Shut the fu>k up!"

This documentary has been brewing for a while now and should not be news except to Democrats who have fallen hook, line and sinker for the "I, me, mine," one-man defender of the not-so-free world.

Episode I tops out at 22:01, but watch the entire thing

Intelligence and Special Operations forces are furious and frustrated at how President Obama and those in positions of authority have exploited their service for political advantage. Countless leaks, interviews and decisions by the Obama Administration and other government officials have undermined the success of our Intelligence and Special Operations forces and put future missions and personnel at risk.


The unwarranted and dangerous public disclosure of Special Forces Operations is so serious -- that for the first time ever -- former operators have agreed to risk their reputations and go 'on the record' in a special documentary titled "Dishonorable Disclosures." Its goal is to educate America about serious breaches of security and prevent them from ever happening again.
 

The adults are coming! The adults are coming!

Later

Saturday, August 11, 2012

The Veep schools the pretend Prez

Unlike many of his inept, disinterested counterparts, this guy, Paul Ryan, actually reads the bills, researches the bills and understands the bills.

And the more you learn about him, the more you'll understand why this country needs not any more "unintended consequences" signed into law.



G'nite

Friday, August 10, 2012

The Welfare President doubles down

Buying votes, one executive stroke at a time.



This election is shaping up to be a showdown between the productive folks, and the unproductive folks who support the clueless wonder.

Wonder why.

Later

Rodents and grandrodents

I love it when my daughter travels well south of the Mason-Dixon line and make's it a point to proudly and boldly display that glorious N-Y logo.


L to R: Ebon, Gage, Taylor & Peace
 Dollywood

Later

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Scumbags and their bald-faced lies

The coming landslide is inevitable.







 

Yeah, and, "you didn't build that."  

Scums.  

Later

Allan West killed my puppy!

The hapless Dems are going full-on with the napalm routine because they have absolutely nothing to tout this time around.



The country is about to collapse from within.

Oh, yeah! Well, Allan West punches aged widows!

Sad.

Later

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Maddow on NEPA

Gee, this is shocking.

Turns out, some geological formations ought not be fracked with.

Visit NBCNews.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy


Go figure.

Later

Mitt Romney killed my puppy!

The latest from the slash-slash-burn-burn-and-burn-some-more campaign trail…

Mitt Romney is a tax scofflaw.

Mitt Romney is a felon.

Mitt Romney killed a woman.

Mitt Romney’s former firm was funded by Central American death squads.

Meanwhile, back at the reality ranch…

Over 100 Million Now Receiving Federal Welfare

And I reiterate, Oblahblah and his useless minions can be summed up in two words that are often joined together in perfect symmetry---scum and bag.

Scumbags!

Later

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

A question posed to me

What do you like about Mitt Romney?

Even though some are trying to use both against him, and especially because his opponent has neither, I like the fact that he has a long, documented track record as well as a full resume.

I like the fact that he understands how business and finance actually work.

I like the fact that he has experience at the executive level, as well as as that of a high-profile troubleshooter.

I like the fact that he understands that each and every regulation passed down from an overreaching Fedrule Govmint in lieu of law takes money directly out of our wallets, i.e., the economy.

I like the fact that he was not afraid to innovate by providing the model from which Oblahblahcare was haphazardly cobbled together.

I like the fact that he is a man of faith, as well a good husband, father and grandfather.

I like the fact that he has kept his composure while undergoing scurrilous and unfair attacks from almost every angle.

I like the fact that he was not mentored by cocooned academies, avowed communists, far-out radicals and domestic terrorists.

I like the overall positive tone of his message, rather than the chastising, admonishing, finger-pointing, divisive and self-impressed know-it-all condescension of his lightweight opponent.

I like the fact that he’s not in bed with Middle Eastern revolutionaries.

I like the fact that he actually visited the continental United States before he set off to college.

Finally, I like the fact that what he wants to make this country strong again, not remake it by executive fiat.
  
You asked. 

Later

Sunday, August 5, 2012

3 hours to Mars

I love this interplanetary travel stuff.

A mission to colonize Mars is afoot, but it's a one way ticket---the volunteer settlers won't be coming back. If I had no loved ones to keep me grounded here on Planet Tumult, well, it'd be au revoir if they'd have me.

I do so love adventures.



NASA will be going live at 11:30 PM

Later

Curiosity Mission to Mars

Just a few more hours.

I love this space travel stuff. Always did, always will. And I have Arthur C. Clarke to thank for that. Oh, and my father's chosen profession.



If all goes well, we'll know by Monday, perhaps Tuesday.

Later

Friday, August 3, 2012

Dust

Pesticides.

In this case, dust.

It's not about how lethal it is, how strong it's mixed, what synergists are part the equation or how far and wide and incorrectly it's aplied; it's all about it being correctly delivered to the target pest.

For this solution to an obvious problem, I applied a single ounce of product consisting of 99.9% inert ingredients coupled with .1% active ingredient. Environment friendly, pet and children safe.

Know your enemy...wood-destroying insects...



Dust rules!

Later

Friday One-liners

Even though I’m sick of hearing about it, let’s do this gay marriage thing.

The lefties claim the folks on the right are trying to deny the gays their rights. But at the same time, the lefties tell the folks on the right what they cannot eat, cannot own, cannot say and cannot think.

As for me, I say we allow the gays to do whatever they see fit, so long as they shut the fu>k up already and stop wearing their sexuality on their sleeves.

The lefties claim we need gun control every time a gun is fired in deranged anger. The Bitter Clingers---the right-leaning gun owners--claim it’s their constitutional right to “bare arms” in case the Fedrule Govmint gets a little too big for it’s own britches, just like it is now.

In these matters, I side with the gun crowd, but with a caveat to follow.

Handgun? Sure. Shotgun? Yep. Hunting rifle. Okay. Anything else more lethal than that? Nope.

Look, I really don’t care if anyone wants to own their personal version of a basement armory. But let’s be honest. If and when the Feds come looking for you with extreme prejudice as their only guide, you’re a dead man no matter what automatic weapon or weapons you may own.

Face it, the citizen militia days are far, far behind us.

I keep hearing this oft-repeated talk radio swill whereby it is alleged that the GOP and it’s evil minions want to screw the poor every time anyone on the right mentions common sense economics by way of balanced budgets.

Sorry, but the Dems have constructed this here entitlement society house of cards that is going to collapse sometime soon unless the adults among us are finally allowed some serious input.

And to equate fiscal sanity with utter disdain for the so-called “less fortunate” is disingenuous, useless and dangerous claptrap of the highest order.

Dishonest, Dem claptrap.

Has Tom Leighton reported to San Quentin yet?

No? Well, keep throwing swill against the wall in hopes of something, anything finally sticking.

Balanced budget. More new businesses downtown. Paving throughout the city. The splash pool is open. The massive Coal Street project is finally winding down. The Hotel Sterling solution is coming.

But, hey! It could be better, we could all be living in Scranton!

Right?

Later

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Living with Methane Migration in Bradford County

Published on Jul 31, 2012 by StateImpactPA
Michael Leighton of Bradford County, PA, gives StateImpact Pennsylvania a tour of the devices Chesapeake Energy has installed in his basement.

Methane gas has been bubbling into Leighton's water well and onto his property since mid-May. Pennsylvania's Department of Environmental Protection has linked the stray gas to a nearby Chesapeake well. Read StateImpact Pennsylvania's full report here: http://bit.ly/OtjM33



Oh, joy.

Later

Monday, July 30, 2012

Frackin' the Marcellus: SNAFU

From NPR...

In Northeast Pennsylvania, Methane Migration Means Flammable Puddles And 30-Foot Geysers
Last Sep­tem­ber, Chesa­peake Energy CEO Aubrey McClen­don declared to a Philadel­phia energy con­fer­ence that the prob­lem of methane migrat­ing through the ground near nat­ural gas drilling sites had been fixed. “Prob­lem iden­ti­fied. Prob­lem solved,” he told an industry-heavy crowd at the Philadel­phia Con­ven­tion Center.

Good luck with that.

Might want to retire the trusty Zippo.

Later

Thinkin' out loud

I know the lefties among us hated old George Dubya cause he took trillions and pissed it away bombing people and places we ain’t never heard of before. I hate to rain on your utopian parade, but every president takes trillions and searches for half a reason to bomb people and places we ain’t never heard of before. Tell me I’m wrong.

But these days, we got this here fraud in the White House who continues to take trillions and piss it away bombing even more people and places we ain’t never heard of before. Simultaneously, he takes trillions and trillions and hands it out to supporters, foreign invaders, slackers, freaks and fringe groups.

It seems as if he’s the first president saying that we should ask what our country can do for us, while we bitch about our government-supplied cell phones. What else can our country give to us before the Govmint mint overheats and bursts into flames?

After four years of trickle-down handouts and an unemployment rate hovering in the teens, very many of us had better hope that Barry wins a second term and continues to stave off any possible economic recovery. Because if a change comes in November, an economic recovery will not be very far behind. And when the economy perks up, when employers look to hire again and when the overly-generous freebie spigot gets abruptly cranked shut, Slacker Nation is going to have to get off of it’s drug-addled ass and work for a living. There! I said it! Work.

And this divide and conquer along racial lines stuff is not going to help anyone but the guy fighting for his political life. We’re less a country than a loosely amalgamated group of urban tribes ready and willing to war if and when the lights go down for an extended period or when the satellite dish signal is disrupted for more than an hour or two.

Blacks hate the whites. The whites are tired of being accused of genocide or some such thing by the blacks. The blacks hate the Mexicans. The Mexicans hate the blacks. The whites don’t really care for the Mexicans. And the Mexicans hate anybody who says they should be fitted with box cars and shipped off to their points of origin.

The Divider-in-Chief came our for gay marriage, but he did nothing to help make it the law of the land. He doesn’t care what the straights or the Bible thumpers think, he’s for it so you should vote for him. So everybody gets all worked up all over again, and he’s off to provide amnesty to a segment of our society that’ll upset still more, and all to secure a few more votes. Maybe.

While many of us have no jobs, no homes and no prospects, he’s ready and willing to eagerly demonize his opponent for supposedly leaving some former workers with no jobs. Really? Last I heard, it was not his opponent who ordered the GM and Chrysler car dealerships owned by right-wingers shuttered by executive fiat.

Using his own mocking words as proof, Barry demonizes the corporate folks, he loathes the rich folks, he distrusts the Wall Street folks, he blames the banking folks, he derides the small business folks and he wants to further tax the middle class folks in possession of anything more than the belongings of your average fourth-generation welfare family. Meanwhile, he applauds the Occupy thugs who defecate in and defile your public parks.

Now, is that a recipe for a booming economy when the top commie dog sees a glowing neon target on the backs of the folks that are the economy?

If his health care boondoggle didn’t add enough crippling uncertainty to the fragile economic mix, how would you rate his asinine decision to support the various and sundry violent uprisings across the Middle East. Gee, that won’t add any more uncertainty to the geopolitical mix going forward. Or will it?

I guess what I am trying to say is that we are being “led” by a clueless fraud. It’s not about what’s good for the country, it’s all about what’ll be good for him. And his government-or-nothing ideology clashes with those of the good, hard-working folks who just want to be able to work, frolic, fornicate a tad bit and be left alone.

Freedom, I reckon they might call it.

Them’s all I got.

Later

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Upcoming remarks

I'm working on my BlogCon speech.

Look, if you’re getting lots of traffic, you didn’t get there on your own. You didn’t get there on your own. I’m always struck by people who think, well, it must be because I was just so smart. There are a lot of smart people out there. It must be because I blogged harder than everybody else. Let me tell you something—there are a whole bunch of hardworking bloggers out there.

If you were successful, somebody along the line gave you some help. There was a great HTML or JavaScript teacher somewhere in your life. Somebody helped to create this unbelievable Internet system that we have that allowed you to thrive. Somebody invested in fiber-optics and servers. If you’ve got a blog—you didn’t build that. Somebody else made that happen....
 
Ah, it's a collectivist work in progress.
 
Later

Saturday, July 28, 2012

'Zach Attack'











I remember being 9-years-old.

1967. Derby, Connecticut. Direnzio Heights. Bradley School.

I remember the marital strife, the constant bickering and the occasional violence, even though I loved practically everything else around me in that long ago, one-time environment.

And when it was my turn to make like a parent, I spared my kids the torment and the uncertainty that was my childhood on all too many occasions. But these days, I feel as if I'm seeing history repeated. Or, some such unexplainable thing.

Happy birthday, Zach.

Later