Newt, Richard, Al Qaeda, and Who’s Your Daddy?

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Open mouth, insert foot. Repeat.

During his appearance last week on Comedy Central’s The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, Newt Gingrich, former Speaker of the House, asserted that it was completely acceptable to hold and try Richard Reid, the “Shoe Bomber”, in civilian courts, because “he is an American citizen”.  This in response to Stewart’s question why he, at the time, accepted Reid’s prosecution in civilian courts, but is against trying Guantanamo detainees in Federal Courts now.  The only problem?  Reid is a citizen of Great Britain, not the United States.

It would appear Mr. Gingrich suffers from the same affliction many right-wing pundits do – selective memory, or none at all.

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Homeland Security

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Barry lends a hand, gets blamed!

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Old man Sam has a wonderfully eclectic home, there on Freedom Lane.  A large lot, with a spectacular view and wide lawns. It started out as a modest Colonial home, but has undergone several renovations through the years.  Sam’s family has been growing ever since he moved in, and while there are some ugly stories about the previous tenants and how they were treated, our tale today is not about them, or their sad story.  It’s about an incident that occured recently at the sprawling residence.

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The Smell of Money

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Driving southbound from Fresno on Highway 99, a visitor might get the impression that the region is a mixture of light manufacturing, ag related sales and service companies, and grape vineyards.  As our friendly traveler continues down the highway, orchards of walnuts and other fruits and nuts would start making their appearance, with some of the highway fencing sporting blue signs identifying the crop.  Every few miles, a small town beckons travelers to stop for a range of services, from old style hamburger stands and 50’s era motels, to modern fast food joints and shiny new convenience stores.   In the springtime, the aroma of the surrounding fields and orchards would lead one to suppose the area an agricultural shangri-la, a wonderful place to spend time.   A little further down the road, however, and that idyllic dreamworld suddenly turns into an olfactory nightmare…

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Important Check List

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New Furniture in Casa JimmieJoe

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I bit the bullet,  dinged the credit card, and bought new living room furniture this week.  The 40 year old couch just wasn’t cutting it anymore!  (Really. 40. I have pictures of me at 3 or 4 years old sitting on it. Family heirloom thing, you know)

Still working out the layout, things will move some before I decide permanent settings.

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The Love That Dare Not Speak It’s Name

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Proposition 22.  Proposition 8.  Ballot initiatives in Maine.  Almost anywhere there is legal recognition for our relationships, some right-wing religious nutjob is trying to destroy them.  In some places, they’re winning, at least for the moment.

But stop and think for a moment.  This is what they are fighting against:

Love.

Lord Alfred Douglas, in 1894, called it “The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name”.  Things have changed some since then, but there are still people out there that want to shove it back into silence.  Force it back into the dark corners and hidden places, remove all mention of it from public discourse.  For them, only swift and severe condemnation is acceptable.  Any other conversation about the subject is immediately labeled “promoting homosexuality”.

It has bothered me for some time why this is so.  Why the rabid response to the issue any time it comes up?  I think I’ve figured it out…

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Fun With License Plates!

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From ACME.COM

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The Reaper was busy

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The Grim Reaper was busy Friday night here in Tulare County.  I came to work at 5pm, and by 6:30 we’d already received 5 calls for the coroner.  Those 5 were all of natural causes, people of various ages passing away at hospitals or homes, requiring a deputy coroner respond to verify no foul play involved in the passing.  One a fetal demise, that’s always sad, and later at least one due to a traffic accident.  The tally was 7 for the day when I left at 3am.  Maybe the Reaper will take the weekend off, since he was so busy Friday.  We can only hope.

9-1-1, It’s Not Just A Job, It’s A Mystery!

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1st mystery of 9-1-1: Why are you whispering??  Odds are very good “they” couldn’t hear you if you were screaming, and they’re probably too busy fighting with each other to notice you’ve left the room.  When I ask you to speak up, that doesn’t mean “speak even quieter!”  You called for help, but you’re on your cell phone, the signal is crappy, and they’re not designed to compensate for low voice levels.  You’re already in the same house, they’re going to know who called when the police show up, so whispering really doesn’t do anything to insure “they don’t know” you’re calling!   I can’t help you if I can’t hear you!  There’s no address information from a cell phone, and the location technology isn’t reliable.  Oh, I might know where you are, within a 1/2 mile or so, but if there’s anyone else there, or you’re in, say, an apartment complex…   well, you could be SOL.  Speak up!

2nd mystery of 9-1-1:  I understand you being upset that the neighbor’s music is loud, even inside your house.  I understand that you “can’t hear your own television” over the noise.  What I don’t understand is why you ask me “not to put it out over the radio, because they have a scanner”.  If YOU can’t hear YOUR television over the noise, how in the heck are THEY going to hear the scanner??  So, yes, the call is going out over the radio.  If they have a scanner that can outmuscle that powerful of a stereo, I WANT ONE!   And secondly, if they do manage to hear the scanner, and turn down the music before we get there, then your problem has been solved!  Either way, you win!

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