Fake Isn't Funny

I've heard that money is the root of all evil. Then I've heard that the love of money is the root of all evil. But, you know, I don't think love is the right word. Desire perhaps? The desire for money? But that doesn't cover it, either. The overwhelming desire for any thing - money, possessions, recognition, fame, power, control - that may be closer to the truth. If you desire anything to the extent that you would compromise your principles (assuming, of course, that you have some), break laws, or hurt people to get it, it will lead you to 'evil.' Which brings us to the question of what is 'evil.' I don't have enough room to get into all the possibilities and philosophical discussion that could lead to, but at the simplest level I think evil is anything that hurts someone - including yourself.

Generally speaking, I'm not really a 'nice' person. I don't make friends easily. I don't wave at strangers. I have a few people that I love and some people that I like, but I view the 'unwashed hordes' of the general public with a jaundiced eye containing more than a little suspicion and mistrust. If I don't know you, I'm likely to avoid you, even ignore you.

And yet.. it would never occur to me to do something that could harm people I don't even know. I just can't understand it. Take for example the people who write viruses. Why? What could possibly be a reason to create and disseminate something that will harm hundreds or thousands of people? Do they think that it somehow proves they are 'better' than all those people? Are they so angry that they just want to lash out at people they don't even know?

Another example, one closer to home for me, is people who fake pictures and videos of the paranormal, either deliberately or by accident. I've taken bad pictures too. How does a person get from 'well, this shot is ruined' to

Wife: Hey, look, honey, Aunt Myrtle came to the family reunion!
Husband: What? That's just a streak on the film .. how do you get Aunt Myrtle out of it?
Wife: Can't you see it? That's the exact same shade of bilious green as the hat she always wore!

Yeah, that's bad enough, but going from that to calling the local paper or logging in to your favorite paranormal website and trying to convince the world that that streak is really Aunt Myrtle, or that distorted reflection in the glass isn't anyone you recognize in spite of the fact that it's clearly your best buddy who was standing next to you when you took the picture, is even worse.

And then there are the people who whip up deliberate fakes in Photoshop and present them to the gullible public as genuine 'ghost' photos, or get their buddy to run around in the forest in a gorilla suit and put up yet another 'Genuine Bigfoot Sighting!' video on youtube. The fact that said buddy in the gorilla suit is likely to get shot if there are any real Bigfoot hunters around aside, what's the point? The 'thrill' of fooling the public? The 'excitement' of getting 47 comments that all say some variation of "FAKE!"? I just don't get it. You could get just as much 'recognition' by admitting they're fakes and letting us try to figure out how you did it. We would appreciate that, and thank you for it!

But the more fakes and hoaxes there are that are presented as 'real,' and the better they get, the harder it's going to be to recognize 'the real thing' if it comes along. And that's just sad. The people who are really trying to find the truth, looking for the 'real thing,' are becoming jaded, overwhelmed, frustrated, and disgusted.

Come on people, give it a rest. Find something else to do. It's not like you're making money off these bogus pictures. Where's the thrill when the average teenager with an old pc and a hacked copy of Photoshop can produce something good enough to get posted on most of the 'submit your ghost photo' sites? Why not try something that's a real challenge instead?

What is it that you people desire so strongly that you will lie, cheat, and steal to get it? Perhaps you are telling yourselves 'but we aren't hurting anyone." You're wrong. Every fake hurts me, and hundreds of other people like me, who approached that picture or video with hope and spent time analyzing it. Do you think it's just funny to mess with the heads of the 'crazy' people looking for ghosts and cryptids? I remind you that Galileo, Newton, Einstein, and Edison were all thought to be 'crazy' in their day. Edison, in fact, got the first recorded EVP while trying to build a machine to communicate with the dead. How 'crazy' is that?

Ok, so we're fascinated by ghosts, Nessie, UFOs, Bigfoot, whatever. Why can't you just leave us alone? Wouldn't it be cool if we did find one? And finding a 'real' one gets a little harder with every fake and hoax you put out there. Lying to people is not funny, and fooling people with your lies proves nothing except that you are dishonest and a cheat. Whatever perverse pleasure you are getting out of it, your desire for it has led you to compromise the principles you should have, and you are hurting people. Now go back to the beginning of this post and refresh your memory about what that means, how it defines what you are doing.

Your Reality Box

I am mostly considered to be a sane, intelligent person in my 'right' mind. I am a responsible citizen and homeowner who works a job, pays taxes, obeys laws, etc.

Let's suppose for a minute that, as I was driving home from work one day, I claim to have witnessed a hit-and-run accident in which a bicycle rider was killed. I am the only witness, the only other car present on that 2-lane country road. When, a week later, they find the vehicle I carefully described including a partial plate number, it has had recent body work and a fresh paint job. Circumstantial evidence indicates that the owner of the vehicle was likely to have been driving on that road at that time, but he won't admit it and no one else noticed him. The case has gone to trial, and you are on the jury. I am on the witness stand swearing to you that I saw that vehicle, driven by the defendant, hit the bicyclist and then take off. The only other evidence is circumstantial. Do you vote guilty, or not? Ask yourself, and decide before you read the next paragraph.

If you voted guilty, you just sentenced a man to prison on my word. You decided the course of the rest of a man's life based on what I say that I saw. And you don't even know me. (If you voted not guilty, get lost! Why are you reading my blog if you don't believe a word I say?) (Just kidding!)

Now suppose I have witnessed something a little .. different. Here I am, still the same person, still swearing that I'm telling the truth and willing to take a lie detector test, but what I have seen was .. a UFO .. or Bigfoot .. or a ghost .. or a pterodactyl (thunderbird). Now what do you think? That I'm crazy, or having delusions, or lying? Why? You trusted me when you decided the fate of the hit-and-run driver, why don't you trust me now?

Because what I say I've seen is outside your Reality Box, that's why. Yes, you have one. We all do. Mine is probably bigger than most, but I do have one and there are some things that aren't in it .. like the idea that our President is really a shape-shifting reptoid alien. If ghosts, or UFO's, or bigfoot, are inside your reality box, you had no more trouble believing what I said I saw than you did believing me about the hit-and-run driver. But if these things are outside your reality box, I lost you as soon as I said I saw one of them. In fact, some people probably stopped reading this blog before they reached the end of the 2nd sentence in the 4th paragraph. (Did I make you go look? )

On TV, and sometimes in real life, we see examples of people whose Reality Box is smaller than ours, sometimes in very specific ways. Because another way to say Reality Box is Comfort Zone. USA's Detective Monk, for example, has a smaller comfort zone than many of us do, and we find his reactions to things that fall outside of it quite amusing, especially since we don't have all those ridiculous fears and hangups that he does. Oh, don't we? Don't you? To the person whose Comfort Zone encompasses at least the possibility that aliens (ETs, not stray Mexicans), Bigfoots (Bigfeet??), lake monsters, and ghosts exist, a skeptical reaction may be just as amusing as you find Mr. Monk's reaction to having to touch something that hasn't been sterilized.

Have you ever stopped to think about it? Who created your box? You? Well, partially, but your culture, parents, society, school, etc. all had a hand in it. If, for example, you were raised in China, the benefits of acupuncture are probably well within its parameters. If you were raised in the U.S., you might think "that's crazy. How could sticking pins in me make me hurt less?" Everyone and everything that has been part of your life had probably at least a small part in defining your Box, but you control it. You can make it bigger, smaller, change its shape .. whatever you want. Why don't you? When confronted with something that's not in their box, why do some people reject it while others accept it (thereby enlarging or changing their box)?

A few weeks ago I bought 15 pullets (baby female chickens) from my local feed store. When they were fully feathered, I moved them from the large tub I'd been keeping them in to a much larger outdoor pen. Instead of enjoying their new freedom, they huddled miserably in the 'house' I'd provided, and only the need for food and water finally brought them out of it. When talking about chickens, you and I can surely agree - they were afraid. Afraid of the unknown, afraid of everything - the sky, the trees, the other animals, the sounds - that was outside their Box. Hunger and thirst - the basic survivial instincts - drove them out of their box in spite of their fear and forced them to begin accepting the big scary world.

But when I propose to you that most people reject things that are outside of their Box because they are afraid, you will likely object, especially if you are a skeptic who thinks that you are too smart, or too educated, or too [insert positive attribute of your choice here] to believe in that nonsense. Fear doesn't have anything to do with it!

How about a little exercise? No, don't get up, I mean for your brain. First, think of something that you wouldn't be able to believe if I told you I experienced it. Now imagine .. just for a few minutes .. that that something is real. How would it change your world? What difference would it make? Does the thought of it being real and "out there" make you uneasy? Or does it, perhaps, tug at the very foundation of your concept of reality, forcing you to reconsider the entire structure of your existence?

For example, let's take the family man, the good father, who believes that his family is safe and secure in their home, behind the security gate, the locked doors, and the monitored alarm system. If his neighbor, who has seemed troubled of late, finally confides to him that she has been being abducted by aliens at night, how will our father react? He can't believe her, because if he does, his family is no longer safe and secure. Not only that, there isn't anything he can do to make them safe from that threat - he would feel, not only afraid for his family, but also powerless and helpless (i. e. not in control!) if he believed her.

And after all that, I don't have any answers, or solutions, or even bits of profound wisdom for you. I'm just asking you to think about it .. the next time someone says or does something you think is crazy, crackpot, unbelievable, ridiculous, bizarre, etc. .. instead of taking it for granted, stop and ask yourself: Why? Why is this outside my Box? Do I want it to be outside of my Box, and if so, why?

You may not change your Reality Box, but at least own it! Recognize it for what it is and take control of it! And by the way, do you have a better understanding now of what you are being asked to do if someone asks you to "think outside the box?"

FAP is a four-letter word.

If it seems that I've been missing in action, I have. I'm being punished by WildBlue for having allowed my computer to download software updates.

Flashback: When we moved out to the country, internet access was one of my first concerns, but (at least initially) it was easier than I thought. Dish network offered broadband internet ('powered by WildBlue') along with the satellite TV service. They hooked it up, and much to my amazement it worked right off the bat on our Macs! Back when we got DSL from Ma Bell, it took a few weeks of phone calls and a service call to get it working correctly on our Macs. Yes, I know, it's a Windows world but I love my Mac. (As crappy and bug-ridden as Vista is and Panther/Tiger/Leopard etc. aren't, who's laughing now?) So, anyway ... the guy who did the installation had the service working, my email coming in and web pages loading about 15 minutes after he finished putting up the satellite dish. Hallelujah!

It worked just fine, albeit a bit slow at times, until we got our first FAP violation notice. This was when I discovered that in amongst the 7 or 8 pages of fine print that I didn't sit down and read carefully when I signed the papers was a Fair Access Policy that limits the amount of data you can upload or download over a 'rolling' 30-day period. I'd been playing with getting movies over the internet so after my initial annoyance I figured, ok, no more movies, that won't happen again. Problem solved? Not quite.

In December of 2007 parts of NE Oklahoma had a terrible ice storm. Perhaps you heard about it on the news.. We were without power for just under a week, from Saturday night 12/8 until Friday evening 12/14. (I'm not complaining, lots of city folks were sans electricity for longer than that, and we had a wood stove for heat.) My point is, when I was once again able to access the internet and get a week's worth of email, one of the messages was from DISH telling me that I'd once again exceeded the FAP. Huh? The email was dated Thursday, 12/13/07.

Now let's see .. it's a rolling 30 day period, so every day it looks at the previous 30 days and tallies up my usage. How could I possibly have exceeded the FAP when I'd had no electricity for the previous 6 days and therefore zero usage of the service? So I called them and explained. The CSR (customer service rep), who seemed to barely speak English, was unsympathetic and assured me there could be no mistake. Yeah, right. I was really mad that time but there wasn't much I could do, and by the time I'd really worked up a good head of steam to "do something about it," we got the notice that it had fallen back under 80% and we were restored to full speed.

The week after the ice storm, we had a cold rainy spell on a Saturday morning that resulted in wet tree limbs previously damaged by ice repeatedly hitting our power lines. Our electric co-op was very responsive and had service restored and the trees cut down in record time, but not before the repetitive brownouts and power interruptions had damaged my computer.

Back to the present: I've finally got the money, thanks to tax refunds and so forth, to get my computer fixed and the OS re-installed. Since I had to re-install the original OS from the CD, I'm now back to 10.4.0 and the current version is 10.4.11. Then there are the Java updates and iTunes updates and so forth.. For several days my computer was downloading and installing some kind of update every day until I was back up to speed.

Then suddenly, this past Thursday evening, our internet pretty much quit working. Our email timed out about half the time, web pages loaded erratically, not at all, or with errors. Then, when I finally did manage to retrieve my email .. there it was .. that FAP violation notice. Friday morning I called DISH again, thinking that if I explained the situation they might help me out. I got lucky in the sense that this CSR actually spoke good English, but other than that it was a bust. Not only did they have me lowered to 70% of normal speed (instead of 80%) but they informed me that this was a punitive reduction that would last for 30 days regardless (instead of being lifted when I fell back under 80% of the FAP during the previous 30 days as had occurred back in November and December).

I have a few questions which they are unwilling or unable to answer:
1) When and where did a company get the idea, much less acquire the ability, to punish its customers for using too much of the service they're paying for?
2) When did the policies change and why didn't I receive any notification that it was changing?
3) How did I manage to exceed the FAP when I wasn't using the service? (during the 12/07 power outage)?
4) How can they charge me $50 a month for a service that is so slow it's essentially non-functional and yet I can't cancel the service without paying a hefty cancellation fee?

I have to admit, however, that they did have a solution for me! Pay just $20 more a month for the next 'level' of service and my bandwith limits will nearly double!

Yep, I see what the problem is now. I'm not paying them enough money. FAP really stands for "Finding Additional Payments."

Caveat Emptor!

More Offensive Stuff

What is the deal with sagging? Who told the younger generation that it's okay to show off your underwear in public? Part of the reason I'd be mortified if anyone saw mine is because they're plain cotton granny drawers, but still. I don't care if they're silk boxers with hearts on them, they're still underwear, and they're called underwear for a reason - they're supposed to be worn under your other clothes where no one can see them.

Seeing someone's underwear used to be a big deal .. remember the whole "what color are my panties" scene in Superman? It wouldn't have been much of a scene if they'd been hanging out. And whatever happened to "teacher, teacher, I declare, I see [insert name]'s underwear?" As I recall it, this was not a good thing and teacher was supposed to do something about it.

At least some of them are good for entertainment. Some of them look like penguins trying to walk with their jean crotches hanging around their knees, and seeing a 6-foot strapping teenager wearing 'Spidey' underwear is still a good laugh for me; my male contemporaries outgrew their spidey and batman underoos around age 5, or maybe 6.

When I am the Queen of the World, (we know that's not going to happen but I am the owner of this blog so I can say whatever I want) all saggers will be ticketed for indecent exposure and have to do community service giving out wedgies to other saggers. Hey, I have an idea though .. what about us older folks hanging stuff out that we know those kids don't want to see. Maybe they'll get an idea of what our problem is and change their ways ... "Hey Sonny!" Gramma calls out as she lifts her skirt, "have a preview of what gravity's gonna do to your main squeeze's rack in 30 years!" All you guys that have kegger abs instead of six pack abs, wear your jeans low in the front and a t-shirt that's too short, and all of us whose buttocks hang off both sides of the toilet seat, wear a thong and show some crack. I'm betting the teens will call a halt before we do. Ha ha!

And the other thing that makes me want to yank them out of their rides by the ears and shake them until their brains rattle is the loud music, especially with the bass cranked up. Dude, you're supposed to listen to music, not feel it. You don't like my oldies or country and you sure don't want to hear it. So what arrogant self-centered narcissistic kind of thinking makes you think that I want to have that crap you call music pounded into my head? Or that anyone except you wants to hear it? And hey, guess what, almost all vehicles have radios .. if anyone else wants to hear it, they can play it themselves in their own vehicle!

It is not cool, and we are not impressed or amused when your car audio is making our bedroom windows vibrate or preventing us from having a normal conversation inside our own cars. If you want to inflict that on yourself, great, it's not my problem. Do it with headphones, or inside your soundproofed room. You have no right to inflict it on me, or anyone else. And you better hope I never am QotW or you will be sentenced to listen to a mix of country oldies, disco, rock oldies, and 60's pop in a locked room until you are reduced to begging and pleading incoherently for release on your knees with tears running down your face.

What do you mean, cruel and unusual? How dare you say 'torture'? You have no problem doing it to me when it's your music and I'm the one trapped in my car next to you in traffic.

Stoppin' the Poppin'

Yesterday's post briefly mentioned the topic of parents raising their families on 'assistance.' This is a subject that I've wanted to speak my piece on for some time, so here I go.

Modern medicine provides us a wonderful new variety of methods to prevent pregnancy, some of which only have to be applied/inserted/administered once a month, once a year, or even less often. So why can't we require women on assistance programs to accept some form of birth control?

If you are a responsible adult and able to support your offspring, you can have as many as you want and I could care less. (More workers to support me when I'm old and decrepit! Yay!) But where does it say that anyone has an inalienable right to produce children that someone else (government, tax base, DHS, etc.) has to pay for and/or raise? I'm sorry, but I don't think they do! America was founded partly on the principle of personal responsibility. So what the hell happened to it? If you are unable to support yourself and/or your children through no fault of your own I will have no problem at all helping out. If some terrible accident befalls me, I sure hope the assistance will be there for me. But if your own bad habits, drug use, failed relationships, inability to hold down a job, etc. etc. are the root cause of your problems, I'm sorry - I think you should be on your own! I think you should have to experience the consequences of your own actions (or lack of action), not be able to pass them along to other people to pay for.

A couple of years ago I was teaching computer skills as part of an after school enrichment program at a school on the "wrong side of the tracks," and had one 5th grader who absolutely refused to have any part of the computers unless it was to play games. Finally one day, frustrated, I asked him what he thought he was going to do as adult if he didn't learn about computers. Even shelf stockers and hamburger flippers have to know how to use a computer these days, I told him. He looked me straight in the eye, and with no sign of embarrassment or remorse, informed me that welfare had been good enough for his grandparents and his parents, and he guessed it would be good enough for him. It was all I could do not to inform him how inappropriate I thought it was that he planned to grow up and live off of me and my fellow taxpayers, after the collective 'we' had already been supporting him - and his parents? - all of his life.

I will support (and did support, by giving nearly 7 years to the US Military) your right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness just as long as it doesn't impact my life and pursuit of happiness, but I happen to think that taking money from the government and the tax base that I support does impact my life. I think that when people accept public assistance, they give up their right to procreate and I see no logical reason why they can't be required to have some form of reversible birth control applied for as long as they are receiving assistance. If you can't even support yourself, why should you be able to have a kid that you can't take care of? This also applies to parents who've already had one or more children taken away from them by CPS or DHS and they keep having more. If you're an unfit parent with child "A" and nothing changes, isn't it rather predictable that you'll be an unfit parent for child "B"?

Modern society seems, in my opinion, to be very confused about rights and privileges. Having children should be a privilege, not a right. (If it were up to me those prison "conjugal" visits would include mandatory birth control too. Hello, we're already feeding and sheltering your lazy criminal you-know-what, and you get to have kids? No, I don't think so.) We are so very uptight and protective about rights for all the bad guys but the victims? They're hung out to dry! Minorities are so 'protected' that it's getting tough to get some jobs if you're a white male. (Sorry, you don't count towards our quota.)

What about the RIGHTS of the average American blue- or white- collar working stiff who's just trying to survive and get a few bits of happiness in here and there? Why is it okay for everyone else to take advantage of us but when we try to protest or assert our rights, we're "bigoted, prejudiced, politically incorrect, insensitive, blah blah blah blah..." Hey, we're the doggoned backbone here and if you want to feel some real pain, just aggravate your back.

Anyways, back to the point .. I know I had one .. oh yeah.. females on any kind of public assistance should be required to accept a birth control measure of some type. Yeah, it'll cost a little more money up front but then think about all the money we'll save by not having to pay for all those children they'd otherwise have had. And think about this .. I don't have any proof, but what do you want to bet that a hefty percentage of those kids would have been drug-affected at birth, individuals who would never have had a 'good' life or been productive?

No, we can't kill kids that already exist, and of course we have to take care of the children once they're here - they're innocents, not at fault, and any decent human being (or even me) would have to be in favor of giving them a fair chance. Nor, although I really want to avoid the whole conception/birth when's it human argument, can we mandate abortion. But what's wrong with preventing the children from ever being conceived? Hey, if the parent is unwed even the Catholics can't protest! Ha!

Personal Responsibility. It's the answer to more of our problems than you can shake a stick at. Face the consequences of your own actions, good or bad. Only under Socialism (where we aren't quite at yet) do the good and bad consequences get spread out evenly amongst all the members of the group, eliminating most if not all of what little sense the world makes. In a Democracy (which is also not quite what we have, believe it or not) people get to keep the proceeds and rewards that come from hard work and good decisions, and personally suffer the consequences of bad decisions and laziness. That used to be how America was, but look around you .. it ain't that way no more. People are all around you avoiding personal responsibility by making you (collective you i. e. the taxpayers) pay for their mistakes while they enjoy the secondhand fruits of your labor.

If you don't see anything wrong with this picture, don't worry about it. Turn back when the dog barks at you, follow the rest of the flock, eat some more grass, and you'll be fine.

Unwelcome Guests

This morning, as he woke me up, my husband informed me that he had an anniversary present for me. (Today is our 7th wedding anniversary.) He added something about having captured it, so I should have been suspicious. In my own defense I can only say that I was barely awake and hadn't had any coffee yet. When I got around there was an empty coffee container sitting on the counter which Hubby indicated was my "anniversary present." Inside was a young brown tarantula that he'd captured in the kitchen. Now mind you .. although it's not nearly as bad as it used to be .. I have arachnophobia! And then he pretended to be hurt that I didn't like my present. Sometimes..... I asked him to take it outside and let it go. I think it has a right to live, I just don't want it in my house. Which brings to mind another "unwelcome guest" issue....

An online pal of mine has an email signature which says "Calling an illegal alien an undocumented immigrant is like calling a drug dealer an unlicensed pharmacist." One can argue, as some have to me, that it's not a valid comparison because the "undocumented immigrant" isn't hurting anyone.
Isn't he? This is such a 'hot' and emotionally charged issue on both sides that I think we need to step back and come up with another way of dealing with it.

Besides, I'm an immigrant myself. Came over on a boat as a matter of fact (Ok, so it was the USS Queen something, it's still a boat.), when I was four years old. And when I entered the California Public School system that Fall, no allowances were made for the fact that English was not my first language. In fact, I was dumped off with my stepdad's relatives in Missouri at the beginning of the Summer knowing exactly five English phrases (I'm hungry, I'm thirsty, I'm tired, I need to go to the bathroom, I'm hurt) and by the end of the Summer I spoke English well enough to enter the school system with no problems. Yes, you say, it's easier for kids. Well, what about my mother who was 22 at the time? Within a very few months of arriving in America, she spoke English well enough to get a job. And within 2 years, you couldn't have told that either of us was German by our speech. What I'm getting at here is that I don't have a lot of sympathy for people who want to come to this country to get a better standard of living but aren't willing to assimilate (a bad word only if you're watching Star Trek). You want to be an American? Fine! Learn the language! The official language of the United States of America is English (albeit a somewhat mangled and altered version of the King's English), and that should be all that needs to be said about that. No one ever offered any services to my family in German, and we survived. See what I mean about it being an emotional topic?

When I was attending high school in Hammond, LA, we had a family of Chinese immigrants move into our town. I don't remember the details, as a teenager I really didn't care, but I do remember that they initially spoke Chinese and that their father was deceased; it was just the mother and four sons, the younger two of which attended school with me. Somehow they got a loan or something, took over an abandoned burger joint, and turned it into a Chinese restaurant. To this day I think that was the best Chinese food I've ever eaten. Within a very short time, like a year or so, they were able to expand from 10 tables to 20. The boys all worked there, and the younger ones could be seen doing their homework at a back table between customers. Had you suggested removing them from Hammond, there'd have been quite an uproar. "What! We have the best Chinese restaurant in three counties because of them! Don't you even think about taking them anywhere." They became well-liked and well-respected business owners, an asset to our community, in a very short period of time.

Surely there are Mexicans out there - I've heard about some of them - who do exactly what our Chinese family did in Hammond, become an asset to their communities. I don't see a good reason to deport them, and I don't see any good legal way to separate them from the chaff who take advantage of social services and programs (oh YES they do! I've been working in the nonprofit sector for over seven years now and I've seen it firsthand, with my own eyes, so don't tell me they don't), refuse to learn English and assimilate, demand that we spend untold thousands (millions?) of dollars making said services available to them in their language, and are burdens rather than assets to our communities.

People say they come here to take jobs that Americans don't want. Huh? We have 5% unemployment .. how can there be jobs that Americans don't want? Ok, never mind that, I was unemployed for 6 months a while back and I didn't go be a street sweeper or fruit picker either, I kept looking for the type of clerical job I'd had before. But.. There are close to 4 million people in the US on 'Welfare' right now. How about we 'convince' them (surely they can't all be unable to work) to do those jobs that other Americans "don't want to do?" You want that check, buddy, work for it. And there better not be any job that you're too good to do!

So there you go .. make the people who've been on welfare do the jobs the Mexicans have been doing and make the employers pay the government the same amounts they've been paying the Mexicans to offset the welfare checks. The Mexicans who have learned English, assimilated, and gotten better jobs or opened successful businesses will be largely unaffected. But the others .. the unwelcome guests .. they won't be able to find jobs any more and they can't get welfare (Please tell me I'm right and illegals can't get government services?) they'll go home .. all by themselves, because there will no longer be a better future here for them than in Mexico.

The US government saves money with this plan in a bunch of ways!
* People who suddenly have to start working to get welfare will go get real jobs, further reducing the welfare costs.
* Part of welfare costs will be recovered from the employers who are paying the government for the welfare recipients' labor.
* Once most of the Mexicans who won't learn English go home, we can save money by getting rid of all those "press 2 for Spanish" programs.
* The border police and all the programs designed to enforce immigration laws can be greatly scaled down, since Mexicans will stop wanting to come here.
* Lots of money will be saved by making illegal immigrants a non-issue; no more proposed laws will be tying up our legislature on either side of the issue.

And the ones who truly want to become Americans and not just transplanted Mexicans, they can stay, and eventually become citizens just like my mother and I did.

And one more thing, for those of you who will say that many social services recipients are unwed mothers who can't get jobs that pay them enough to pay for daycare. Screen all the above and pick the most responsible/capable 25% and send them through child care training classes, then make them watch their own kids plus the kids of 3 other women. Now the 25% are at least doing something to pay their way, and the other 75% can return to the workforce and become self-supporting.

Meanwhile, back at the Ranch..

(Warning: if talk about veterinary procedures, loss of (avian) life, the stuff that comes out of the back end of a horse when you put hay in the front, etc. is going to bother you, don't read this post.)

There are days when I question my choice of lifestyle. I don't actually know where my desire to live out in the middle of nowhere surrounded by trees, grass, and wild things came from. We moved around a lot when I was a kid (Army dependent), but we always lived in a city, or at least a big town, and usually in an apartment. Maybe it's just my basic anti-social nature.

But yesterday was one of those days when I questioned it hard. The new vet showed up about 11:00 am to give my horses all their shots, take blood for Coggins test, and geld my colt. My husband had tried to warn me that "country vets" are a little different, but I don't think I was really prepared for the reality. My yearling colt was down and out and his testicles were laying out on the grass before I really got a handle on what was happening. But before we got to that point, Ringo (2 yo mastiff/pit mix) had pushed open the storm door I forgot to secure and charged out to see who these strangers on his turf were. Luckily neither the vet or his assistant, Otis (yep, real name), had a 'thing' about pits but it was still embarassing. Then, while my colt was still asleep, Ringo got out the other storm door and was trying to make a hole in the screened porch big enough to get out of. Back into the house to put him inside and close that door. After half an hour during which the vet patiently waited for my baby to be ready to get up (must give him credit for that and he wasn't being paid by the hour), we got him back up on his feet. The first thing he did was poop, right where he was standing, and then he was ready to walk with only a slight wobble. As I stood there cringing, watching the blood drip off of what looked like a patch of raw meat, the vet seemed unconcerned and merely told me to make sure he got some exercise every day for two weeks or he'd "swell up."

On to my mare, who was somewhat uncooperative and promptly got twitched. Man, that looked like it hurt... Otis was twisting that chain around her lip for all he was worth. He gave her her shots, drew blood for the Coggins, and "floated" her teeth inside of 15 minutes and on to the gelding. Tucker, my "rescue" horse who's been previously abused and was so head shy when I got him that I couldn't even pet him, was a champ. I told him "good boy" and "it's okay" and he just stood there and let the vet draw blood and give the shots. Good boy indeed! He did have to have a twitch for the dental work, but Otis was easier on him than on the mare since he was being cooperative.

Then it was all over with and time for the part that really hurt - paying the bill. Actually, it wasn't too bad compared to what the other fancy vet would have charged me for the same services, so maybe I can live with the total lack of "bedside manner," sense of humor, friendliness, etc.

So I put the horses up and, after watching for a while to make sure the colt would stay on his feet, I went on about other chores. First I went to clean up the colt's poop and the surgical "leavings" only to find my chickens playing keep-away with them! The chickens can run faster than I, so there was nothing for it but to let them eat poor 'Dancer's "jewels" even though it really bothered me for some reason.

I took the horses out to graze on lead ropes, out through the round pen gate which is at the opposite end of their enclosure from the house, and when I returned to the house I couldn't find Ringo. He was outside the dog yard! Assuming he'd busted out of the storm door again, I scolded him and put him back in. Another hour or so later, I heard a chicken squawking like it was being killed and discovered that it was - Ringo was out again, and this time I knew he'd gotten out of the yard because I had latched the storm door. Taking a stick to my errant dog convinced him to let go of the chicken, which ran off missing quite a few feathers. I put him back in the yard and found the place he'd been getting out, but on my way to deal with that I found another of my chickens dead. Now, this is like the 4th chicken he's killed, and no amount of my disapproval seems to deter him, so I decided to try the old farmer's remedy: I got a rope, tied the dead chicken around his neck, and left him in the back yard to consider his sins.

After hopefully dealing with my dog, I went to feed the horses and discovered I didn't have any. After letting them back in via the front gate, I'd forgotten to secure the round pen gate! So out on the 4-wheeler looking for them. After going a good mile in every direction and not being able to find them, I was ready to cry. Finally I went around to the neighbor's to ask if they'd seen them, and there they were, in the neighbor's back yard eating the lawn. With only a bit of fuss because they knew perfectly well it was almost time for their evening feed of grain, I got them back home and secured all the gates.

I then went back to check on Ringo and found him eating the chicken!! So much for the old farmer's remedy. This day was by then really getting to be a bit much. I removed the chicken, put Ringo in the house with all the doors closed, fed the horses, and settled in to watch The Sarah Jane Adventures and Dr. Who. For the rest of the night I'll just pretend I'm a normal person living in a normal household....

I wanted to live out here in the country and have chickens and horses and geese and dogs why?

On Aging

Why don't I age like other people? Ok, I've got the wrinkles and the aches and pains, but I can still drive the speed limit, walk faster than a toddler, operate computers and cell phones with reasonable competency, and talk about something other than my health issues.

This morning as I was driving to work on the 6+ miles of 'paved' 2-lane road that precede my reaching the main highway, a PT Cruiser turned onto it right in front of me and proceeded to do about 25 on a road that I can drive 45 or 50 on in my big old extra long Silverado pickup. When we finally hit a straight patch and I zoomed around him while controlling my impulse to make rude gestures, I glanced into the driver's window. It's always my bet with myself that they're either old or on their cell phone, (or worse, both) and I win about 97% of the time. This time they were old, and I'm thinking, WHY? You must be retired - you look like you should be in a rocking chair with an oxygen tank handy - so why get on the road when people who are still able to pay taxes and contribute towards the social security benefits you live on are trying to get to work on time? Couldn't you sleep in and go to the drugstore after I'm at work? Of course you haven't been in an accident in 20 years .. but what about the 5 or 6 you cause every week driving so danged slow??

What is it about getting old and driving slow, anyway? I'm 50 and I can still do the speed limit (or a squidge over but don't tell anyone) on just about any road I drive. I try to tell myself that I should be more tolerant because that may be me someday, but I keep telling my husband that when age catches up with me and I can't drive faster than 1/2 of the posted speed limit, just shoot me. Or at least shred my driver's license. I really admire my father-in-law, who doesn't drive at all. He knows his limitations!

And yeah, I do have health issues, but I don't really want to discuss them with anyone except a health professional. Can we discuss aliens instead? Conspiracy theories? Bigfoot or Nessie? Or even religion or politics if you must, but let's not talk about your (or my) gastrointestinal problems, prostate health, skin disorders, hair loss, etc. It's bad enough watching the commercials on TV, I sure don't want to hear the details from you personally. When does age cause a level of apathy or lack of interest in the world to the extent that the most interesting topic for discussion I can think of is my health problems? I dunno, but when I get there .. please .. just shoot me.

Granted I'm 50 and not 80, but I can still manage technology, too. The date never flashed on my VCR (unless there was a power outage), I have a regular cell phone and operate it competently, and I can manage both Windows and Mac computers quite well. At some age does my brain stop being able to handle technology, or new things? Why can a 4-year-old operate a cell phone but supposedly my 60+-year-old Dad can't? (In fact he can and quite well). And furthermore, why are nonexistent cavemen offended by GEICO commercials but senior citizens aren't offended by Jitterbug commercials? If I really get to the point where I am so dumb I need a Jitterbug.. yeah, you know .. just shoot me.

It's Offensive All Around

Lately there's been some hullabaloo locally about sex offenders getting off (yep, that was a bad pun all right) lightly for offenses against children. I'm sure a few years in jail isn't a walk in the park, but bottom line it doesn't solve anything. After a few years of "deprivation" the offender is likely to pick up right where he left off, or worse.

How can there be justice for a ruined life? I've met lots of these kids and although many or most of them may eventually be "functioning" adults, they never really get over it - they aren't ever really the same person they would have been if it hadn't happened. There won't be anything even resembling justice for the victims, and nothing we can do to the offenders is going to help the victims.

We should be thinking about prevention. Let there be no future victims. A jail sentence will not do it. Counseling will not do it. Drugs will not do it - they can always stop taking the drugs.

You'll learn that I don't usually present a problem unless I have a solution in mind, or at least a suggestion. And my solution is going to seem outrageous .. but hear me out.

A permanent solution for pedophiles, in my opinion, would be to have them physically neutered. Yep, cut 'em off, or the equivalent .. get rid of the testosterone, diminish the inappropriate urges, etc. etc. Take a minute to be shocked, I'll wait .....

Is this violating the "inalienable human rights" of the offender? Maybe .. but what about the rights of the children he preys on? I say he gave up those rights the first time he victimized an innocent child. We can kill murderers (in most states) so don't start on the sanctity of the human body. If we can take their life away, why can't we take their "pair" away?

And don't try to tell me they can't live without them or can't be happy or blah blah blah. I've known guys who were celibate all their lives and didn't seem to be suffering unduly. Yes, it was their choice, but it doesn't change the fact that guys can survive without sex. Losing that aspect of their lives won't be any more detrimental to the criminal than losing their trust, innocence, and more is detrimental to the victimized children. Hey, maybe that would be a kind of justice.
Maybe it would be a deterrent, too. Maybe a few of them would manage to control their impulses better if being neutered were a potential consequence for their actions.

And as a taxpayer, I'd much more happily pay for that operation and maybe even some hours of counseling than years in prison only to have them get out and do it again. The present system is NOT working and a huge percentage of voters are parents. Get out there and lobby for it! If nothing else the very idea may scare the crap out of these predators!

And why am I focusing solely on child molesters and not rapists? Because, despite all the hoopla about rape being about domination and control and not sex, I disagree. In countries (yes Virginia they do exist) where prostitution is not only legal but regulated, the incidence of rape is much lower than it is in countries like the U.S. where it's not legal. If a man can pay a reasonable sum (price controls) and be pretty sure what he's getting is clean and healthy (health dept. oversight and frequent health exams), there's much less reason to take all the risks associated with rape.

That's an idea for the Oklahoma legislature .. we finally got rid of cockfighting .. at least legally.. how about legalizing prostitution? The taxes off that could probably pay for the road improvements we so desperately need!