WikiLeaks - One Government to Censor Us All

PUBLIC ENEMY NO. 1  

You have to admire how well our government can function when they have a singular purpose, one clear goal, and are determined to work together to achieve success.  In order to see the full picture of  the U.S. government as a well-oiled machine, we only have to put together five stories from the past 24-hour news cycle.  Our first story begins with those pesky Republicans. 


Encouraged by their recent mid-term election success, the Republicans have been beating their elephant chests with pride. Not only will they clog Obama's wheel of change, they will spin it backwards, to the point where it started, which would be.....um, the collapse of our banking system and the beginning of the great recession.  


Here is their chance to be true mavericks. Will they praise Julian Assange for bringing transparency back into our governement, for using the free market system to reveal our secrets-on classified stamped memos, and for embarrassing the pants off of President Barak Obama? Yesterday, on Meet the Press, Senate Republican Minority Leader Mitch McConnell gave us a hint of his party's stance.  

I think the man is a high-tech terrorist,” Senator McConnell stated when asked about WikiLeaks by host David Gregory, “He’s (Assange) done an enormous… He’s done an enormous damage to our country, and I think he needs to be prosecuted to the, the fullest extent of the law; and if that becomes a problem, we need to change the law. I think it’s done enormous damage to our country and, and to our relationships with our allies around the world.”    

I think to change that particular law, we would need a constitutional convention, Senator.   Here is a video of the interview.  I swear on my mother’s tiger-eye jewelry I did not manipulate the video in any way.

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

Not to be outdone, the democrats sent  Attorney General Eric Holder out to meet with the press and express his determination to hold Mr. Assange accountable in some vague way.  According to the article written by Voice of America’s Jim Malone, Mr. Holder condemned, in strongest terms possible, WikiLeak’s publication of classified diplomatic cables. 

Photo:AP

When asked by reporters on the type of action he intended to take, Mr. Holder said, 
"With regard to all the tactics that we can do or can use to ameliorate the consequences of these actions, I do not want to get into those as well," he added.  "But we will do everything that we can both to hold people accountable and to minimize the harm that will befall the American people."


Dance, little puppet dance!  Frankly, we will have to accept this as a typical kinda-sorta democratic response that fully supports the capture and crucifixion of Julian Assange. Democrats just don't know how to be strong, forceful, and determined. They just don't want to offend anyone.  But no worries.  As soon as Senator McConnell gets a new law passed that extends our legal boundaries into every other country in the world,  we can hang that bad boy, Osama Bin Laden Julian Assange.


Our third story originates at the State Department, the TMZ of our government services.  An overzealous State Department employee warned Columbia University officials that students who want to have a career at the State Department should censor themselves from participating in anything resembling WikiLeaks.  As reported by Digital trends reporter Molly McHugh,  students were warned in an email that said, well...read it yourself:

From: “Office of Career Services”

Date: November 30, 2010 15:26:53 EST:

Hi students,

We received a call today from a SIPA alumnus who is working at the State Department. He asked us to pass along the following information to anyone who will be applying for jobs in the federal government, since all would require a background investigation and in some instances a security clearance.

The documents released during the past few months through Wikileaks are still considered classified documents. He recommends that you DO NOT post links to these documents nor make comments on social media sites such as Facebook or through Twitter. Engaging in these activities would call into question your ability to deal with confidential information, which is part of most positions with the federal government.

Regards,
Office of Career Services

Apparently, learning the truth about U.S. diplomacy would call into question a future State Department employee's ability to deal with confidential information, which is based on being truthful with your superiors about your political situation.  


Not to be outdone by the State Department, our military brass jumped onto the speeding bandwagon.  Our fourth story comes from gawker.com.. Iraqi soldiers who attempt to access WikiLeaks are greeted with a warning page from the Department of Defense that...well, read it yourself. This is a quote from a spokesperson for U.S. Forces, as reported by gawker.com:.

"U.S. forces in Iraq have not blocked any news websites from being read. Because of the Wikileaks release of secret documents and their easy availability on the web, USF-I has posted a warning page NIPRNet computers go to first. This page simply warns the user that the website they are about to view may contain classified documents and that such documents should not be viewed, downloaded, or distributed on NIPR computers. There is a button at the bottom of this warning page that then allows the user to go to the website."

Now we have the Republicans, Democrats, State Department, and the U.S. Military all on the same page, which apparently is not classified.  That should be enough to drive our wagon down the hill and over the almost deceased corpse of Mr. Assange, right?  If you answered in the affirmative, please sit down, this lesson on "government in full cooperation" is not quite finished.  We haven't mentioned the Library of Congress yet, or the Social Security Administration.


We are of the opinion that the Library of Congress is a stuffy old building where millions of books sit on shelves half a mile high.   To one day work at the Library of Congress must be every librarian's dream.  What a magnificent repository of the history for our culture. Certainly, this great institution would be date-stamping those classified diplomatic cables  and scanning them into their computers for all future generations to view.  Is there a quote? Of course, there is a quote!  From their own blog,:

“The Library decided to block Wikileaks because applicable law obligates federal agencies to protect classified information.  Unauthorized disclosures of classified documents do not alter the documents’ classified status or automatically result in declassification of the documents.”

 We could go on, we do have one more.  Oh what the heck, this is such a long article, if you made it this far you might as well  suffer to the end.  According to Undernews, the online report of  the Progressive Review,
the SSA has restricted access to WikiLeaks.  The Pregressive Review reports it received a copy of an email sent to SSA staffers with the subject line "Information Security Bulletin: WIKILEAKS"   that states,

"Earlier this year a large amount of United States government classified information was illegally released to the public website WIKILEAKS. The documents on WIKILEAKS could place military personnel and United States supporters in Iraq and Afghanistan at an increased risk of harm.

"Despite these documents being publicly accessible over the internet, the documents remain classified and SSA employees should not access, download, or transmit them. Individuals may be subject to applicable federal criminal statutes for unlawful access to or transmission of classified information."

Following this posting on UNDERNEWS were some excellent comments. My favorite was from Anonymous,  

 Oh, I see. We do not want Americans or federal employees having the same access to information as the rest of the world. Got it, brilliant.

The one person having the most difficult time staying on the internet is WikiLeaks founder, Julian Assange. Yet despite being cut off from his swiss bank account (something about him not being an actual resident of Switzerland, if that makes any sense), and struggling with a personal problem/smear campaign in Sweden, Mr. Assange is adamant on releasing all 250,000 U.S. diplomatic cables.  We can cry, whine, censor, restrict, threaten, intimidate, arrest, and  prosecute and it will not matter- we will still have to take our medicine. With over 500 mirror sites now releasing documents, WikiLeaks is here to stay.


But it is nice, in a perverse and disturbing way, to see our national government work so perfectly together. Imagine how good our health care would be, how deep our pockets would be filled, and how much more meaning our lives would have if government agencies and political parties were working together to improve the world around us instead of shielding us from the world around us.

The American Fool- What's in Our wallet?

How much debt are you carrying?  Do you have car payments, mortgage payments, and credit card payments?  If you sneeze incorrectly, does your bank charge you thirty dollars?  Did you ever wonder who collects your money?  At the end of the day, your interest payment on your debt ends up in someone else's pocket.  Companies are run by people. They sit on the Board of Directors, they attend the galas in the Hamptons, they are CEO's and CFO's and they have grand salaries, stock options, and insider trading tips.  They have drivers, maids, personal chefs, and yachts with a full crew.  They float around from resort to resort, watching your money grow in their bank accounts.

When we got angry and declared, "We can't afford this 26% interest rate on our credit cards, we are swimming out of this whirlpool that empties our pockets and sucks us down", we declared bankruptcy in huge numbers. Those folks on their yachts dialed up their Senators and Congressional representatives, and demanded the credit laws be changed.   Congress and then President Bush passed a law that appeared to help the debtors, but actually helped the wealthiest hold us down, with their greedy hands permanently stitched into our wallets and pocketbooks, even after bankruptcy.  Welcome to the modern-day debtor's prison.  You can expect to be imprisoned here for the rest of your life.

The naysayers will point out that it is our own fault if we have huge debt. We spent that money, we knew the interest rate on the card, and now we must reap what we sow.  This position appears to make sense, but we must examine our own weaknesses as human beings to fully understand how we are being manipulated by the powerful elite to fund their million-dollar parties and feed their investments.  

How many Capital One card offers do you get in the mail each week?  We are averaging one per day.  There are large envelopes, smaller envelopes with "Important- Time Sensitive" stamped on the front, envelopes with a simple return address, thick package style envelopes that dump out various shapes and sizes of offers and advertisements.  Have you been throwing them out too?  Now turn on your television.  What's in your wallet?

Capital One Bank saturates us with their tempting offers, day after day after day. They will, at some point, catch us in a weak moment, and soon afterwards- our very own card will arrive in the mail.  The interest rate will be low, perhaps even 0%.  Now we can buy that Sony LCD screen we always wanted and we will pay it off before the nasty 26% interest rate kicks in.  Right. Sure.  You think Capital One would give you a 0%  interest rate for six months if the statistics determined that 95% of credit card users paid off their entire debt within that time period?  Capital One is nearly certain there will be a balance on our card when the 26% rate kicks in.  They know we are the American fool.

Here is a true story.  My ex-wife had a wealthy uncle through marriage, who aspired to be one of the wealthiest Americans.  He married into her family, took control of the grandfather's finances- who was a locally successful builder before his death- and played the stock market while building up his own business.  

Uncle Bernie (named changed) was a Jewish plumber who hired young men with no experience, promised them an apprenticeship,and paid them minimum wage. When they became experienced enough to know they were being taken advantage of, he would fire them and hire new recruits. His work was sloppy and sometimes he got sued- but his business thrived.  He bought a million-dollar (modest) house in a private gated community in the Florida Keys called Ocean Reef Club.

Bucci Island at Ocean Reef Club

This wasn't some gated slum in the Poconos. Ocean Reef Club includes a 5-star hotel, a full-service shopping center, 27-hole golf course, 3 marinas, 9 restaurants, post office, and a 30-man private police force.  Cash is not accepted anywhere within the community.  You must use your Ocean Reef Card for all purchases. They are even making interest off of each other.

When the children were young, we spent a few days within the gated walls of ORC, and swam in the large, lovely swimming pool and lake at the recreation center, Bucci Island. We heard the story on how they once kept dolphins in the moat around the recreation center, but "those damn animal activists" made a stink and ORC had to release them back into the wild.  

We walked along the marina where wealthy yachters would dock for a few days, get in a few rounds of golf, before sailing off to the next Ocean Reef Club-like community charted for their life of leisure..  Bernie would point to the multi-million dollar yachts as we walked past, "That one is owned by one of the heirs to the Campbell Soup fortune. This one belongs to the owner of the Detroit Lions."  One boat was so large, we could look through the huge cabin windows see the grand piano and full size Christmas tree in their living room.

Ocean Reef Golf Cart (typ.)

Every morning, Bernie would drive his golf cart to the hotel for the complimentary (free) coffee and newspaper made available for residents.  One morning I tagged along with him.  Every road in the community has a matching golf cart path, and most homes have a separate carport to house and re-charge their golf carts.  Some people have their golf carts customized to match their own cars.  We saw golf carts with Rolls Royce, Lincoln, Cadillac, Jaguar hoods during our stay.

After we picked up our free Columbian coffee, I accidentally spilled  half my cup on the hotel floor.  I offered to tell the staff at the front desk. Uncle Bernie dismissed my offer with an impatient wave of his hand, "They have people for that,"  he explained..  I turned around and looked back at my spill and already there was a Hispanic man with a bucket and mop moving into position for clean-up. Ah, they have people for that.

"We have people for that."

They have people for everything, for their every need and desire.  Life is a warm, cozy bubble, with money as the insulator.  After a few days of living like this, it becomes obvious that they have created a separate world from our own, and admission is based on the color green. If you have it, you're in. If you don't have it, you're out.  Most of us don't have it and we never will, unless we either rip off our customers and family, or are born to a family that already has it.  Look again, what's in your wallet?

Is there a solution? Short of revolution, probably not. The human propensity for greed and power is well-documented throughout  the ages.  Even Moses threw down the tablets.  Think about that.  He hand-chiseled the ten commandments into stone.  That required a great effort (and stone-carving talent)! He must have chosen stone so that the rules would be remembered for ages to come- something permanent for his people. 

Moses chiseled ten community guidelines that he received directly from our Supreme Being, the One who created us all.  Then Moses returned home to find a big drunken orgy, everyone wearing bling, praying to golden statues- a bunch of drunken, naked, wine-drinking nymphomaniacs.  SLAM!  Down go the tablets into a hundred pieces.  You have to be very pissed off and disgusted to destroy the ten commandments entrusted to you by the highest Authority in the universe.

When Moses returned from his prophetic meeting on the mountain, he found the Ocean Reef Club.  If Uncle Bernie had been there when Moses threw down the tablets, he would have casually waved Moses off, " Hey, don't worry about it. We have people for that."

Moses Destroys the Tables of the Ten Commandments (watercolor circa 1896–1902 by James Tissot)

Justin Bieber? Really?

Justin Bieber, heartthrob to millions of 12-year old girls, received his first Grammy nomination last night, further eroding the respectability of the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences (NARAS).  Once considered a sometimes stuffy, archaic symbol of the older generation of music lovers (this is still true in some categories) , the Academy has now jumped across the abyss to the party-filled, celebrity side of fame and fortune. Actually, we like Justin's energy and his dedication to his music.  If he would only comb his hair back on the sides (like real folks do) and fire all the people who are preening him to be a pop icon, we'd feel more comfortable with his mindless, bubble gum music.

Nevertheless, we rode our musical mule to the bottom of the canyon to look for the phenomenal artists who were thrown off the Grammy cliff.  Not too much here...some oldies and few newbies- it's been a down year for the majors.  Any artist who doesn't score a hit on the charts gets dropped off the cliff. Finding them on the canyon floor, mixed in with all the indies and self-releases, may prove impossible.

Ok, we are at the bottom, surrounded by millions of albums, Cd's, and digital downloads.  Ow!  I just stepped on an illegal torrent.  They really hurt. The RIAA would not be happy with this.  Oh here's the "How to Train Your Dragon" Soundtrack.  Oh my, look at all these indie albums and self-releases.  Let's see if we can find an artist worthy of a nomination who may have been overlooked.  Linkin Park?  Linkin Park!  What is A Thousand Suns doing down here? It could be Linkin Park missed the weird cut-off dates that the Grammy folks have devised. These are cunning people.  

You would think that there would be a huge pile of old-timey rock and rollers down here in the Grammy discard file.  I should be drowning in Tom Petty, Neil Young, Jeff Beck, and Pearl Jam albums.  But there isn't a single one down here.  Wait a minute, I'm getting a phone call.  Wow, really?  All of them?  Any newer bands?  Muse?  Any others?  Oh my, that is sooo old school Grammy-like.  yeah, I agree.  The day the music died.  Mainstream rock is dead.  Well, thanks so much for the call, Mr. Portnow.


We've climbed back out of the abyss and are happy to report one of our favorite albums, Porcupine Tree's "The Incident" was nominated.  Unfortunately, there isn't a category for prog/metal or even for progressive rock, or for conceptual rock albums.  The Incident tells a dramatic story, and while not considered by PT fans  as the best album, it is certainly their darkest piece.  Did the Academy recognize a great album yet could not find a proper category?  What about BEST ROCK ALBUM????? Instead, the Grammy-elite nominates it for Best Surround album.  Really?  Best surround?  We had better hook up two more speakers.

What a surprise to find Switchfoot nominated in a gospel category.  Despite the band's on-going effort to appeal to a wider audience with their sometimes spiritual message, they are stuffed right back where NARAS thinks they belong.   But hey, it's a nomination, right?

Did you know there is still a Best Metal Performance category?  Quick. Think of three metal bands that have released performance albums in 2010.  Slayer?  good job, that's one.  Megadeath?  Excellent, that's two.  Ok. One more.  Don't worry about the quality, just popular names. That is all the Grammy people want- popular names.  Are those crickets we hear?  Come on, you KNOW this!  Think voluptuous maidens chained in iron. No, not the new Hurricane video from 30STM- we are talking about Iron Maiden.  The main  reason these three bands were nominated? They are the only ones that 50 year old stoners can remember.

You would think that Avenged Sevenfold would have been nominated.  If you can drop Switchfoot into gospel and find two categories for a mediocre Elton John/Leon Russel album, there has to be a place for this amazing band and their 2010 release, Nightmare.

We noticed Adam Lambert was nominated for his lame, very lame single.  We saw Adam perform live at Musikfest in Bethlehem this summer. Waterbunny turned to me, mid-performance, and said this, "He is a male Cher."  I couldn't disagree, but Cher should be offended.  Adam has a great voice, everyone agrees- but based upon his own music, his Grammy-nominated own music, he couldn't fill one half-toe of Freddy Mercury's shoes.   His nomination may be an even bigger travesty than Justin's Best New Artist.

Back to Justin Bieber, for a minute.  Really?  Justin Bieber?  This is the cream of the crop?  I don't think he could make the finals of American Idol.  Was he ever on American Idol?  I will take Lee or Chris over Justin.
Thankfully, there are four other nominees for Justin's Grammy:  Drake; Florence and the Machine; Mumford and Sons; Esperanza Spalding.  Any one of these will do fine, thank you.  Cast your vote, NARAS members!

Our only real hope for the February 13, 2011 Grammy Awards is that Eminem wins all ten awards, Muse wins for Best Rock, Florence and the Machine wins Best New Artist,  Pink gyrates from ropes hung from the ceiling, and Adam has a nervous breakdown after he loses. Anything less and NARAS might as well put up a FOR SALE sign to the highest bidder and hope Dick Clark Productions has enough cash and stock to buy them out.  Dick Clark.  Really?

The Temporary Writer - A Printers Guide

A non-writer will look back at his youth based upon memories, photographs, and videos.  A writer will look back by reading what he has written in his youth.  His words show his frame of mind and his attitude towards others.  His sentences highlight his passions, his thoughtfulness, and his arrogance.   His paragraphs define his mental condition, his maturity, and his foolishness.  It is a much harsher review of self, an introspection that can be unforgiving.

There are five-hundred million users posting their thoughts and desires on facebook. Hundreds of millions more are posting on other similar websites. These writings are mostly transitory, reflecting a moment in time but not carefully preserved for the future.  You can't put the pages into a box and store them in the attic.  Most people don't backup their computer hard-drives.  Most hard-drives eventually fail.  Meanwhile the internet pages keep scrolling down. There won't be enough historians to review all the pages of the 1.9 billion internet users currently online.

The pictures we upload may last a while longer, but eventually even those will be compromised when our favorite websites disappear from the Earth forever.  It is all wires, computer chips, ruminations in the cloud- there is no guarantee your website will be there tomorrow.  I remember when mp3.com first arrived in cyberspace.  I was one of the first hundred thousand to post music there.  It reached over 2 million users, all songwriters and musicians, before it blew a financial gasket and fell into the abyss.  Efforts by new owners to resurrect it have mostly failed. Those music pages of mine are gone, the music played out.

Even these posts on blogger may not survive as long as we expect.  We write, we post, then we prepare to write the next post.  Show me the print button on my blogger dashboard, settings, or elsewhere.  There isn't one.  If you are a writer online and you aren't printing out your words, you are risking the future of your art. It isn't enough to save it, not even to CDR or a memory stick.

The format keeps changing and your writing will get lost forever on 5/1/4 discs, 3.5 discs, CDRs, and USB memory sticks.  Print your blogs, your short stories, and your essays. Place them in a box, and toss them in your closet.   Twenty years later, when you open the box- all your writings will be there, to your amazement, for your entertainment, and possible embarrassment.

My next post will be about those old writings of mine from yesteryear.

Stalking Diners, Drive-Ins, & Dives - Ways to Spice up the Blog

We’ve been tossing around a few ideas on how to spice up this blog. Ideas have been tossed around like American footballs and we think we have a plan you will enjoy. Here is our list of ideas to date:

1. Stalking Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives
We think this is our best idea yet.  For those outside the United States who haven’t seen this television show-  Chef Guy drives around the country in a convertible to unique diners, drive-ins, and dives in search of the comfort food,  crazy cuisine, and fine dining in low places.  It is a wonderful, entertaining show even though Chef Guy hates eggs.  How can you go to a diner for breakfast and not have eggs?

We don’t plan on tailgating Chef Guy and getting ourselves arrested.  We just want to be certain  *cough cough*  that his reports are accurate and reliable.  While we don't have chef credentials, we do have 4-star palates and really, what more do you need?   This will require taking many day and overnight trips to places like Kentucky, Tennessee, Maryland, Virginia, and New Jersey.  Oh wait,  we’ve already been to Jefferson Diner in Sparta.  We can scratch Jersey from the list!

2. Writing about Local Government Meetings
    On second thought, this is a bad idea.

Phoenix Roller Coaster

3. Wooden Roller Coaster Review
This idea could very well turn into a Vlog.  We would travel across the United States, Canada, (and Mexico after the drug war is over), and ride every wooden roller coaster we can find and then file reviews on our blog.   We would establish a strict ratings criteria that would include:  Upchuck Meter, Velocity,  Air-Time Evaluation,  Rickety Factor,  First Car Vs. Last Car,  Speed Factor, Fear Factor.

4.  Stalking Man vs. Food

Adam

This is a spin-off idea from the first idea.  The one HUGE difference is we will try to win every challenge Adam has lost. We think we can do this. Bunny, stop shaking your head, we can DO THIS!  There will also be a strict ratings criteria which would include:  Upchuck Meter,  Upchuck Velocity,  First Bite vs. Last Bite Smile Meter,  Fear Factor

5.  Gnome Reality Show

Derek Acorah

This is another great idea.  We would create a Vlog reality show about the gnomes that live under the basement of our 1870’s house. We would chronicle their on-going battle with the possessed bunnies in the backyard.  We hope to have a guest appearance from Derek Acorah, the psychic from “Most Haunted”. He was the first person on television to declare that bunnies could be possessed.  In fairness, we will ask the gnomes to sign a release.  I don’t want to blur their gnomish faces.

"Mr. Pigeon, you're under arrest."

6.  Zoning Cops     'Bad boy bad boy, whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when the zoning officer cites you'    Inspired by the “chicken bones incident” this past week where the complainant witnessed his neighbor throwing chicken bones and a pork chop into the brush across the street. “I have two witnesses!”. cried the complainant. He also threatened to write a letter to the Mayor if I didn’t take immediate action.  I went to the house, approached the front door, and the tenant made a break for it.  I gave chase and we leaped fences and jumped cars until finally, I tackled him and forced him to sign the non-traffic citation.  Exciting!!!!!!

7. Zoning Court
    Are any of the actors from Night Court available for this?

8. Impressions of a Tourist in....

In this scenario, I would get paid to travel all over the world with my brother, Russ, and he would chat people up, I would listen, and then record my impressions, quoting foreigners without their knowledge or consent.  I would change their names to protect them from the 30-50 readers who drop by Mutant Mouse Chronicles each day.




9. Blogging  While Doing Household Chores
We are stoked about these ideas and will get them right into production (except no.2).  I can’t wait for our first report!  Now, if you will excuse me, I have to finish folding the comforters and get the hell out of this laundromat.

I don't know this person.

Impressions of Holland and Germany by an American Tourist

I wonder if I should write this story. I have doubts.  I can not trust my impressions any more than I can trust the foreign cab driver who drove us to an empty parking lot after dark, two blocks away from our hotel in Düsseldorf, and told us to walk through the woods to get there (we didn't).  I am puzzled, concerned, and uncertain we fully understand, even after 911, the depth of our cultural differences with the rest of the world.

The facts are simple.  My brother Russ and I traveled to Netherlands and Germany.  My main purpose was to witness my good friends in the rock band Shadow Gallery begin their first (and long overdue) European tour.  After that, Russ and I vacationed in Amsterdam. Our last night was spent in Germany before flying back home.  The second day after our arrival, the United States Government issued a travel warning for U.S. citizens in Europe.  We were advised to remain alert and be aware of our surroundings.  We followed that advice.

With our sense of personal security heightened, we listened closely those people we met, observed carefully those we were uncertain of, and paid attention to the continuing news reports on the television and internet.  We arrived home safely.  Is there anything more than this to write about?  I am not sure of the answer.  I have impressions of my experience that I cannot shake. I will try to sort it out, place it before you, the reader, and let you find your own place within this story.  There is no grand drama, no great heroics, no single authority on the meaning of this experience, just the sense of something missing, a disconnect, a chasm between cultures that is growing, not receding- and a reminder that age is relative.

The Irish Cabbie
We were staying at a very nice hotel on the edge of a town in Western Holland, near the German border.  After dinner at the hotel, we called for a cab to take us to the town center.  When our taxi arrived, it was driven by a Irish national named Donny (name & nationality changed). He was a lively lad who didn't hesitate to take us on a tour of the town. Our ride culminated in a visit to a coffeehouse, where marijuana is legally sold and smoked.

On the way, the subject of our travel warning came up. Donny spoke with the blunt authority of a cabbie who has seen it all.     "The Muslims tell me how much holier they are than the rest of us. But they sit in the coffeehouses and smoke, they fuck their best friend's wives, they drink till they pass out, and they eat food on Ramadan.  They are hypocrites, horrible hypocrites. I drive them to the bars, the restaurants, the whoreouses, the coffeehouses. We are so holy and you are all infidels, they say...but I know the truth.  They are no different than the rest of us. I tell them too.  Piss off with your holy politics."

Weird Moment at McDonalds 
Russ wanted a hamburger happy meal.  Donny drove us to one in the center of town.  We ordered our food and sat down to wait for the fries (some things transcend cultures).  I noticed that two young men were sitting at the next table.  One teenager was clearly Arab, the other Dutch or German.  As I sat there, munching on a salty burger, Russ walked outside to chat up the manager.  The Arab boy stared at me, then spit soda onto the floor.  I was amused at his childish behavior, but it was his eyes that amazed me the most.  They were full of hatred.  The second time he spit on the floor, he made certain I was watching. I kept up my end of the staring match, then he and his friend got up and left, leaving behind a total mess in the restaurant.  Either he was making a statement about his hatred for Americans or he was just an other idiot teenager trying to be cool.  Maybe it was a little bit of both.  Of course, he was eating McDonalds before we arrived. He bought and ate food from the infidels.  Hey, thanks for buying American!


Victor the Retired Portuguese cop
We met Victor sitting outside a coffeehouse next to a delicious Argentina Steakhouse where we had dinner.  Victor had been smoking marijuana at one of the outside tables. I sat down with an espresso and the three of us talked for over and hour.  The conversation rambled through Dutch and American politics,  ending with Victor's feelings over life in the Netherlands. His was a cautionary tale, with a statement of Dutch female unity that was amazing, if true.

 " I am a retired policeman, formerly in the military...for the past ten years I have worked the streets of Amsterdam....the Muslims know everything, they have infiltrated the police and the government at every level.   The Dutch women refuse to fuck them.  You will never see a Dutch woman with a Muslim man in Holland.  The women, they are not interested in a family if it means they must give back their own freedom.  The women want the Muslim men to leave Amsterdam and so they have made a pact.  Do not fuck the Muslims.   The Muslims will leave and never come back.  It is very bad here."

Hans, the Night Manager, Amsterdam Hotel
He was young, hip, educated, and opinionated.  "If the economy is good, everyone is happy.  If the economy is bad, everyone is unhappy.  They want to fix everything, change laws, make new laws.  They only need to fix the economy and everyone will be happy again. The Dutch women are very beautiful, we fall in love with them, they have our babies, they throw us out and we pay and pay. The terrorist warnings, ha! We have them every day, we don't pay attention to them any more...if it happens, it happens...it will not change us...we are all one family here. We loved Clinton, but Bush, he was bad for the world.  It is good he is gone...what do you think of Obama? Obama has already done more than Bush..he is the first black man elected president...that is quite an accomplishment for your country"

Train Ride to Germany
We bought first class tickets on the ICE train to Germany. Sitting in our comfortable compartment, we were soon joined by Pieter, a German salesman for a mechanical device company.  Russ is also a salesman and boy, can they talk.  Pieter told us that he was born long after World War II had ended and yet he pays a war reparation tax. "And Hitler wasn't even German, he was Austrian. Does Austria have to pay for Hitler's war?  No!"  Russ replies, "Hitler was also half-Jewish."  Pieter appears surprised at this information.  Pieter continues, " Hitler made an arrangement with the Catholic church, to keep the Pope's silence over his behavior in the war  The Pope agreed but only if there was a church tax..  The war is 50 years old and, because I am Catholic, the church tax takes 100 Euros of my paycheck every month. Why is this allowed to be? This was not my war."

We reach Arwen and Pieter says, "There is a famous bridge at Arwen from the war.  Perhaps you heard of it?  I think the Americans made a movie about it." We nod in the affirmative and then there is a moment of silence. We realize that, in our father's time, we were enemies.  Now we are riding in a train together, talking  about those times.  After a few more comments about the war, the conversation drifts to sales, equipment, and travelling. Pieter tells us his German company is actually a subsidiary of an American firm located in the Carolinas.  Pieter has been to the corporate headquarters a few times.  We apologize for the South and encourage Pieter to visit the North and then we all laugh. The Arwen bridge passes underneath in silence, the train floating on air.

"Dinner in Düsseldorf, Germany
After arriving at our austere hotel near the airport, we took a taxi to the old town, Altstadt, in the city center.  There were several outside cafe's on numerous streets, similar to Amsterdam in architecture, but missing the lovely canals and lovelier bicycle riders.  The large, visible police presence in Amsterdam was absent here.  Russ observed one policeman, talking loudly to a patron at one of the cafe's.

We found a cafe' with a menu to my liking. Russ wanted Burger King.  We sat outside, closest to the pedestrian walkway, and ordered dinner.  Directly across from us was a bookstore.  On either side of the bookstore were two more restaurants with outside seating.  Additional outdoor cafe's were present along the entire block.  There were probably 300 customers enjoying the ambiance of the outdoor restaurants on our street.  Only service and emergency vehicles can gain access to this area.

As we were finishing our meal, a florist delivery van drove onto the walkway, then stopped directly opposite our table.  I looked over and locked eyes with a young Arab man.  Without taking his eyes off of me, he put the van in reverse, slowly backed up, then placed the van in drive and pulled forward, facing the bookstore.  The young man jumped out of the van, gave us one more long look, then strolled down the walkway, cellphone in hand. Check, please.

It's that easy.  Every evening, the florist van pulls in and parks at the bookstore.  Its movement becomes part of a larger city rhythm.  Police pay little attention, the van is like any other service vehicle- the driver just another worker doing his job.  Then one day, the van pulls in and parks, the driver exits the explosive-laden vehicle and walks away- cell phone in hand.  Once he is at a safe distance,  he detonates the van and 300 people die. It is way too easy and it may always be that easy in free societies.  I hope that van keeps bringing flowers.

Düsseldorf Airport Security
Russ forgets to trash his lighter. He tries handing it to the security official.  "No. no", says the German equivalent of our Homeland Security, waving his hand, "you can keep that."  We move forward, ready to remove our belt and shoes.  No one is removing theirs so we change our mind and walk through- our shoes intact, lighter in hand. No wonder Germany is a target.

Final Observation
I think about a conversation Russ and I had with a college student/waitress at our first hotel.  "Well, you are a young country, "she said with an air of authority,  "you still have much to learn about the rest of the world." Indeed we do, young lady, indeed we do.

Authors Note: Names have been changed to protect those individuals who spoke candidly with us.  Our thanks to each one, this story is also their story..




.

How to Build a Proper Melting Pot - A Diffle County Update Part 3

The year is 1960. Diffle County is a quiet, wooded rural community with rounded mountains to the Northeast, a highland plateau to the Northwest,  and a large mountain, called Kitakima (lenni-lenape origin), running like a spine the entire length of Diffle County’s Southeastern border. The county is shaped like postage stamp that got pulled in two opposite directions, no longer square, but not too far out of square either.

On the very top of Kitakima mountain is the most desolate trail in the country- the Ahsenike (AH-SNEAK-A) trail.  The rumor is that the army uses the Ahsenike to train its green berets for night maneuvers.  I walked 17 miles of the trail one weekend. I slept in a hammock between two trees, all snuggled in my sleeping bag.  The coyotes howled all night long.  I wanted to ah-sneak-ah  right out of there!   Hiking off the mountain, ten miles to the North, right in the heart of Diffle County sits Jacobsville, founded in 1802 by the Rev. Paul Jacobs, a Methodist Minister looking for a new flock.

In 1960, Diffle County was extremely rural. It’s entire population was, according to the U.S. census, 32,398 persons.  The people of Diffle County were of the mostly of the same color, 98.9 percent white. The 1960 US Census actually listed them as “Native White”.  I’m not certain how native Americans felt about that but I suppose back in those days, Native Americans were still called Injuns in the movie westerns. The remaining residents in the county, all 1.1% of them, were non-white: Yep, a grand total of 357 non-white residents within the whole county of Diffle.  Only two of them owned their homes.

Fifty years ago, there were other differences too. Most important were the two-lane roads.  There was no interstate system that slammed a commercial hand-palm on the area, no 4-lane highways that by-passed Main street, no airport larger than a piper cub, and no minor league sports team.  If you wanted to visit here, you had to drive in on treacherous, narrow mountain roads.  Very few businesses advertised outside the local paper, tourists arrived by word of mouth.  A friend would mention to a cousin what a wonderful time his family had a Greenbriar Lodge. The next year, the cousin was there with his family.  Slowly, quietly, the county took care of its business- along with its family resorts and hunting clubs.

There is always one exception- Winding Brook Resort and Golf Club advertised in all the city newspapers and television stations.  It was the ultimate resort with an indoor pool, concert hall, and a thousand rooms in 6 different Greek revival buildings spread out across a gaudy landscape of Roman statues and modern fountains.  The city folk loved it.  The locals laughed, but many of them worked there at one time or another.  The checks never bounced.        

Back in those days, most people had coal furnaces and there was a coal yard in each town.  You walked to the store, there was no Wallyworld, Kmart, and the nearest McDonalds was 20 miles away.  Then there was Sally’s Coffee shop on Diamond Street.  You could always count on Sally’s for latest in fine diner cuisine. In 1967, she introduced the pizza burger and received a “good citizen” award from the East Jacobsville town council.  If you did happen to see an African American, he or she was either washing dishes at Sally’s, sweeping the sidewalk at Cotterman’s Funeral Home, or weeding Mr's. Turnball’s garden.   Diffle county folks loved their white-washed fences as much as their whitewashed faces.  

You didn’t see much prejudice in a small county in Pennsyltucky in 1960.  There just wasn’t enough non-whites around to harass.  But you didn’t let your white daughter anywhere near Jefferson or 9th street.  That is where the black folk lived.  You didn’t let your son hang out on Carmen Street- the Mexicans might carve him up.  For the middle class and wealthier white folk,  the attitude was more prejudice masked as socially incorrect behavior.  “Jimmy does a wonderful job with trimming my bushes and he is always punctual when I call, but he knows he is not welcome inside my house!”  Mrs. Turnball would declare with a laugh.  “Sarah, you should not be talking to that boy.  What will your friends think?  Your grandfather is rolling over in his grave! Now, stick with your own friends (that we chose for you) from now on!”

The poorer folk weren’t as refined with their prejudice.  Confederate flags hung from their porches, there were more than a few night meetings in white robes, and every now and again, a big old cross would get torched in some dishwasher’s front yard.  Just a reminder, the local men would say, just a reminder.

In 1970, the interstate system reached Diffle County and everything changed.  The monster highway cut through the County like a snake, across the highlands, down into Haney valley, three exits for Jacobsville, one exit for East Jacobsville  (next to the hospital), then through the East Kitakima gap and gone, bound for the bright lights of the big cities on the coast. The local business association hailed it as the beginning of a new era. Unfortunately for them, the new era included chain stores that undercut their prices and ran them out of town.  Suddenly a four hour drive into the city became an easy two-hour drive.  New people poured into the county like water out of a spilled glass.


The interstate was the pot and people of all races, creeds, and religions melted into Diffle County.  The 2000 U.S. Census looked remarkably different than 1960.  The county had grown to 140,000 people with 76% white, and 24% non-white.  The minorities were mainly African American (10%), Hispanic (8%), Asian (2%), and the remaining 4% included Native Americans (0.3%).  There were more minorities living in Diffle County in the year 2000  (33,621) than the entire population in 1960. Most of those folks owned their own homes. Diffle County didn't need change, it had already been changed.

In the mid-1980’s, after witnessing 15 years of (radical- to them) change, and in keeping with their heritage, local political white folk decided to take action to protect their children and preserve their way of life.  What happened next is something more of a shared vision than a single individual leading the way forward (backward).  At cocktail parties, golf outings, etc.,  the discussion amongst the folk revolved around topics like, “preserving our way of life”,  “keeping what is already here intact and creating new schools for the city folk”. Certain well-known individuals with large, deep family ties ran for school board, council, and township office and they won.  Most had no competition.  Those already in office were re-elected again and again by wide margins.

The vision became a plan and the plan became a reality- build new schools near the new subdivisions and create a parallel elementary and secondary educational system.  It can’t be prejudice if the newer residents get to send their children to a brand new school!  It is true that with a growth rate exceeding the national average by 10-15% a year, new schools were needed, and it made sense to build them close to the new neighborhoods. It was simply coincidental that the older schools would mostly house the students from the local, deep-rooted families.  Those schools had a history, daddy played football there and mommy was a cheerleader.  Keeping those schools was a necessity- there was no other option.

Some folks would call that smart planning. Others might think of it as a kind of community enforced segregation- Diffle County versus the big city.  I call it  “use your political power while you still have it.”

Tomorrow: Part 4   New School, Old Attitudes, and Inevitable Change  

Disclaimer:  All characters are fictional. Any likeness to real or somewhat real individuals is completely and intentionally coincidental.There is no Diffle County in Pennsyltucky.  In fact, there is no Pennsyltucky.  Liability is strictly limited to double the compensation received for writing this article. Copyright (C) 2010  The Mutant Mouse Chronicles, A Fishfire Media Lab Presentation, subsidiary of Data Corp LLC, another Waterbunny migraine company.

The History of Education: A Diffle County Update, Part 2

Sometime shortly after the turn of the 20th century, Diffle County received a bonus.  A college was formed on the outskirts of East Jacobsville, a small town across the Trouthead Creek from Jacobsville- which was and always will be a larger town.

At some point in its history, perhaps all the way back to the days of our founding fathers, Pennsyltucky had politicians with a sweet and simple purpose: the better educated the citizens are, the more money they will earn, the more taxes we can collect, and the more money we can spend on improving the lives of those same citizens.  Let’s call this the “educational pyramid scheme” or EPS for short.  It worked.

Young people showed up and took advantage of the affordable education at East Jacobsville Teachers College. The dozen or so other state-supported colleges scattered around the Commonwealth also became popular with the local middle class kids.

After a time, Pennsyltucky politicians wanted some recognition for their success- good paying jobs, educated citizens, partially paid for by tax dollars. So they changed the name to East Jacobsville State College.  Since Pennsyltucky is a Commonwealth, the correct name should have been East Jacobsville Commonwealth College, but that’s a bit dreary.  Besides, common folk don’t have much wealth, but we are always in some sort of state.

The college grew and yet, our college-educated young adults had limited opportunities in the local area, and many of them moved away for better jobs.  In more recent times, Pennsyltucky decided that “State College” sounded archaic and they changed the name again to East Jacobsville University.  I am not certain changing names improves anything, but there ya go, it’s already done.

East Jacobsville University became one of the largest employers in the area.  But the cost of attending began to increase and the Commonwealth, due its own decline after the end of the Industrial Era, began to decrease funding.  By the turn of 21st century, the cost of higher education required money that many folks in Diffle County didn’t have and couldn't earn.   Folks became desperate to provide their children with a better education and borrowed money to pay for the ever-increasing tuition.

The Commonwealth was all too happy to guarantee the loans- enforcement is always cheaper than awarding monetary grants.  Besides, now the bankers were involved and they could make some serious interest on those 50,000 dollar loans.  “Yummy”, said the bankers and they donated money to their favorite politicians,  who got re-elected, then cut funding and increased loan maximums. We’ll call this the  “Commonwealth Re-Elected Educational Pyramid Scheme” or CREEPS for short..

My goodness, this isn’t a short lesson at all!

South of Diffle County sits Nother County, a very prosperous region where the flatlanders live.  Nother County has many colleges, one in each big town, and none of them are State Universities. Some colleges are upscaley. Even the ivy leaguers are impressed- usually right before their non-conference lacrosse match.

One college is a 2-year commuter school and is very affordable for average kids with average grades.  One day, a Nother County Community College trustee was fishing in Diffle County and had a great idea.  Why not open a Diffle County branch of the Nother County Community College!  And we will call it....well, you know...it couldn't be called Diffle County Community College because who would know it was an outreach of Nother County?   Now he could fish and be a trustee at the same time (Wasn't he already doing this?)..

Once everyone was in happy agreement, Nother County bought a few buildings in Dannerville. They added a few trailers, a parking lot with entrance, a few handicap access improvements, and a fresh coat of paint.  Then they tossed in some teachers and chairs (This is getting to be like Field of Dreams for schools). New students showed up and, within a few short years, overwhelmed the tiny campus.

Let’s tie the time-lines together now, shall we?   When the new school opened, the folks of all  colors and creeds were just beginning to arrive in Diffle County.  As time went on, many of the children of these non-white adventurers decided to go to their local community college and then transfer to a four year school- which was usually located a few sleepy miles away in East Jacobsville. Ah, the kids are staying close to home.  Well...their kids- the transplants from the big city, not so much our kids, from the local poor white folk homes.

And that’s about when Nother County and Diffle County started to get on each other’s nerves. That’s about when the minorities with ridiculous mortgages discovered their builders had played three card monty with their credit reports, bank accounts, and house appraisals.   And that is about the time when the local newspaper, The Diffle County Recorder, actually sent out some reporters to investigate their neighborhood. And that is about the same time when political correctness and prejudice fell in love.

Tomorrow: Part 3  Racism and Political Correctness, Diffle County Melts in the Pot.

Disclaimer:  All characters are fictional. Any likeness to real or somewhat real individuals is completely and intentionally coincidental.There is no Diffle County in Pennsyltucky.  In fact, there is no Pennsyltucky.  Liability is strictly limited to double the compensation received for writing this article. Copyright (C) 2010  The Mutant Mouse Chronicles, A Fishfire Media Lab Presentation, subsidiary of Data Corp LLC, another Waterbunny migraine company.

More Logs on the Fire: A Diffle County Update, Part 1

Here in Diffle County, there has been a good deal of controversy brewing over the planned construction of  a Nother County Community College, new Diffle County Campus.  It seems there are a few white folk from the Western edge of the County who don't care much about education- especially when it involves black and Hispanic children from the more "developed areas" of the Diffle County.   To understand, we need a short lesson.

There has been a long history in Diffle County of white folk.  They founded the place back in the 1700's, their grandpappy's moved rocks, built the stone rows, tried and failed to grow crops in the poor bony soil. When the farming and tanning faded out, the trees grew back and their pappys' took to hunting varmits like squirrel, deer, bear, rabbit, and whatever else popped its head out from behind a white Pine tree.  Some folk built cabins and offered them out for families, hunting, boy scouts.  Diffle County became a big ol' resort and before you could say "Da Bronx", white city folk started visiting our little mountain county.

Sometime around the 1970's, the white city folk got bored and stopped vacationing here.  The resorts had grown and some were for honeymooners only and did OK, but the family resorts with the big table dinners, shuffleboard courts, concrete pools, and Church service on Sunday- they died slow, lingering, run-down deaths.  Once again, Diffle County struggled mightily.  White folk making minimum wage at the resorts turning down beds, cooking meals, and mowing the lawn lost their jobs.  Diffle County was in decline.

That doesn't mean the locals left the area. Quite the contrary, the taxes were cheap, the land plentiful, and food pranced in the woods on Bambi legs. But their children saw the county as a big fricking dead end and they bailed.  What to do?   With so many beautiful woods, cool summer breezes, and plenty of room for everyone, why not subdivide off a few lots and sell them to those city folk for second homes.

By the 1980's a few homes turned into thousands of homes. How did that happen?  A few of the smarter locals, meaning the greedy ones, called themselves builders, then learned the trade.  When they started running out of white folk to sell homes to,  they looked around the closest city and saw a new market- black and Hispanics, living in tiny homes, with no yard or trees, and paying more money to live in the city than it costs to live in a fine home in Diffle County.  The real fun had begun.

Call it genius marketing, call it good builder fortune, call it Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac hunting for minorities to lend money to for brand new homes, call it luck- but it all came together like the perfect storm.  Roads were built, streets were paved, houses were constructed and people came, oh how the people came to Diffle County.

By the year 2000, everything had changed.  People of all races, religions, and countries poured into the county and began commuting to the city, 1-1/2 hours away on a good day.  There were seldom any good days, however.  Because back before the rainbow folks showed up, Diffle County was essentially a poor county.

They didn't get money for a high speed rail to the city. They didn't even try to get it.  They didn't improve their sewer systems, they just made people install septic on their brand new lots.

On 9/11/2001, the terrorists attacked and the exodus from the city increased dramatically.  The more urban centers of the county began to change.  Stores took on new and unusual flavors. Woolworths had long since vanished and JJ Newberry's was next.   People fled the city for a new life. However, the commute sucked and soon folks started looking for local jobs. But guess what?  There weren't any local jobs except tradesman- building homes.  The local white folks had been busy all this time learning trades so they could replace their old shacks with  brand new modular homes.  It was a lovely industry that went well with hunting and fishing.

The locals complained bout the city folk, but they also knew their bread was being buttered by those fancy new homes. After awhile, the white folk began to notice the rainbow folks in all their colors and ethnicity were just about everywhere.  But the white folk felt progressive because they voted three white women onto the County Commissioner seats.  Locals would grumble about the city folk, then pat each other on the back about their elected officials.

In 2008, the housing market collapsed. Diffle County was broke and the white folk lost their jobs.  But truth be told, they were losing the jobs already to cheap East European and Mexican labor before the crash.

Tomorrow: Part 2 -  The parallel rise of education and ignorance.

New Words for The Dictionary

Every once in awhile in my family, we have a desire to create new words.  While we love to nickname restaurants, why not add new words to describe our emotions, our likes and dislikes, and most importantly, to stereotype other people for our own amusement!

It all began on an afternoon drive in the country, probably Delaware County, Pennsylvania. This is a lovely pastoral setting, upon which the wealthy horse owners love to erect miles of split-rail fencing, along with well-placed security cameras in trees.  Even in the fields rented to dairy farmers there are scenic fence-rows with hidden tree cameras.

We know from experience that cows love cameras. Try this out yourself:  Drive to a field of cows, park, get out of your car, and just stand there.  The cow herd will ignore you (except one, there is always one looking for attention). Now lift up your camera. Woah!  Cow stampede!   And I thought pigs were hams.

Yet we didn't expect wealthy, upscale, main-line, Devonesque, property owners to keep cameras on their rental cows.  Are there teams of cow-tippers lurking behind the fences?  Are they expecting us common folk to steal milk right from the source?  What kind of sick, paranoid millionaires are we dealing with here? What do we call these crazed horsey people?  We call them Schmoos.

We live in a region inundated by tourists from New York City.  They bring an economic punch to our area that has been unparalleled in the history of our community.  Many bring along their city habits and customs, which can be unsettling to the local populace.  New Yorkers own very small city properties then see our millions of trees in the woodlands. They can not believe that these vast tracts of land are owned by local yokels.

It is not unusual to come home to find an entire family of sixteen from Brooklyn having a wonderful picnic on your two-acre front lawn.  What kind of moron tourist would just park their car and dump the entire clan directly in front of your house?  A Touron would.

In an effort to preserve our new word heritage, we have compiled a list of words desiring of recognition:

1. Schmoo  - See above, also schmooey, schmooduh, schmool, schmoot 
                    ex. Bernie Madoff is schmoot.
2. Touron  - See above, also  Touronimous, Touronic, Touramous, Tourontake80east
3. farmslut -  Once you see two of these at the fairgrounds, you will understand
4. merpies -  M+M addiction, usually crushed, served in vanilla ice cream, used for private sexual pleasures
5. Miishlamoo - A young schmoo, oftentimes an adopted Wallengurl
6. ashlanack(ack) -  only understood by dogs, who attack when this word is spoken aggressively
7. Wallengurl - An Asian girl to be adopted by an older man, then later married
8. bouver -  To bouver something, to be bouvered by someone, bouvering your neighbor (dutch-West End, donjano)
9. happybirthday - means to go screw yourself, unless it is your birthday. Used in polite company only.  ex. "Happy Birthday, blog reader"
10. halper - everyone needs a halper from time to time see also halp, halpin', halpple

We will have more new words in a future post coming soon.  Thanks for reading our baschlammie!