Jerkoff of the Week - John Thain (updated)

Meet John Thain.

Does he look like a dick?

No? Yes?

Because he is. A greedy, selfish dick.

Times, they're hard for a lot of people these days. A lot of people are losing things, jobs, homes, insurance, health care, retirements, livelihoods.

Take the 200 workers who lost their jobs when Republic Windows and Doors in Chicago shut down without warning. Republic closed it's doors for a simple reason, they just weren't making enough profit to stay in business. Republic has been around for decades, and some of the workers who lost their jobs had been there for many of those same years. They make a decent product and they haven't changed much. So how come they suddenly aren't profitable? I bet you can guess the answer. People do buy a single window unit or pre-hung door frame to replace an older failed unit in their homes, but most are sold in bulk to contractors building new houses or renovating old ones - and that's where the profit is. Except the housing market went bust here a couple of months ago right after the mortgage industry collapsed. Followed by the banking industry. Followed by economic recession (and look how we can just use the word "recession" now without having to beat around the Bush [yes, pun intended], that'll tell you how bad it actually is, and just how bad it might become). Oddly enough, people aren't buying a hell of a lot of houses these days. Which means that contractors aren't building a hell of a lot of houses these days. And nobody can afford to renovate. Which, in turn, takes us back to Republic Windows and Doors, who aren't selling a lot of windows and doors to contractors these days.

Which, of course, means no profit.

Because Republic was suddenly no longer profitable, their creditor, Bank of America, cut off the company's line of credit. And that was the end of the road for Republic. They closed their own doors and windows, and in violation of the contract with their employees didn't give 60 days notice or severance pay. The former employees occupied the factory and demanded satisfaction. Satisfaction in accordance with the contract. Satisfaction, not jobs, because, well, those jobs are gone off to Iowa where the cost of doing business is cheaper and the morals of company executives aren't closely scrutinized.

What does all this have to do with John Thain?

Bear with me.

John Thain is the Chairman and CEO of what used to be Wall Street power house, Merrill Lynch. He's been there about a year now - and he wants a bonus, ten million dollars worth of bonus to be precise. $10,000,000. This is over and above his actual $750,000 salary, restricted stock valued at $28 million last year (less now, but still), and a three-tier grant of 1.8 million stock options worth $20 million last year (less now, but damn). When he was hired last year he was called "Wall Street's richest mop-up man" by the NY Times. The $10,000,000 is a bonus. A bonus for what, you ask? Well, let's review, shall we? During Mr. Thain's tenure as the head of Merrill Lynch the company has gone belly up. The firm suffered billions in losses this year, billions, nobody is exactly sure how many billions. Those losses left the company teetering on the verge of collapse. Note, I said teetering. Did John Thain save Merrill Lynch perhaps? Did he pull the company back from the edge? Thus earning himself a tidy bonus from thankful stockholders? Well, no, not exactly. Unless you charitably say taking ten billion dollars in Federal bailout money and still ending up having to sell Merrill Lynch to Bank of America for a bargain basement price of $50 billion is saving the company. When Thain took over Merrill Lynch last year, the company's stock was trading above $50 a share. Today? Well, today it's about $14 and change, and that's actually up 12 percent following the Bank of America buyout announcement.

Despite his abject failure, John Thain felt he deserved a bonus. He originally tried for $30 million, but he was eventually willing to settle for ten.

Did you catch the tie-in?

Yeah, it's Bank of America. Republic's creditor and new owner of Merril Lynch and recipient of $25 billion themselves in federal bailout funds.

See, it could be argued that BoA cutting off Republic's line of credit was just prudent banking practice - you don't risk your stock holder's money on loans to a company that isn't making a profit. Right? Except, it wasn't BoA's money. The $25 billion in Federal bailout funds was given to BoA specifically to finance loans and lines of credit in order to keep businesses afloat until the economy recovers.

Now, let's follow the logic here. BoA wouldn't take a risk on Republic, a couple of million dollars risk since you asked, but is willing to shell out that $25 billion in free taxpayer money, plus another $25 billion of their own, to acquire Merrill Lynch outright. Merrill Lynch, which if you want to make comparisons, has suffered a business failure of astounding proportions through mismanagement and stupidity and greed, compared to Republic - who's setbacks are not, largely, the result of their own failures but rather the directly result of companies like Merrill Lynch and jerkoff's like John Thain.

And finally, as we come full circle, John Thain wants $10 million from BoA in bonuses. $10 million is about what it would take to extend Republic's line of credit, and $10 million is a lot more than it would take to pay those 200 workers their severance fees and 60 days worth of final pay as specifically called for in their contract.

Yesterday morning, Thain finally stood in front of his board and requested that he not, after all, get a bonus. This, I suspect, is less a sudden fit of conscience, and more a sudden realization of reality and a desperate attempt to deflect widespread scorn, criticism, Congressional attention and inquiry, and to keep his job -or better yet get another one.

Fine. Take Thain's bonus, and the bonuses of every other greedy, self-serving executive on Wall Street, and use it to fund lines of credit for companies like Republic, or at the very least pay the workers what they contracted for. I'm not talking about some communist Robin Hood fantasy of taking money from executives and giving it to the poor - I'm talking about not giving bonuses for poor stewardship and I'm talking about paying people in accordance with what they specifically contracted for and have the full legal right to expect. Nothing more.

This bailout is on our backs, ours, the taxpayers. That means we get to set the terms. And if we have to pay a bailout, then nobody in that industry should be seeing a bonus. That money was intended specifically to save people like those standing outside the Republic plant in Chicago, not so BoA could acquire their competitors and hand out big fat checks to people who already have more money than they know what to do with.

Why Thain and not Bank of America? Jerkoff of the week, I mean. Because while BoA's actions aren't exactly admirable, especially when it comes to what they did with that $25 billion, they at least are doing what they see as good business. John Thain and people just like him are the ones who largely brought this mess down upon the world. John Thain and people just like him will never find themselves without means, without homes, without jobs, without insurance, without healthcare. John Thain and people like him will never find themselves huddled in the cold outside a defunct Chicago factory. John Thain is doing absolutely nothing but trying to get his and screw everybody else. Everybody. You. Me. Those people outside of Republic Door and Window in the cold. The employees of Merrill Lynch. The stock holders. The people who lost their homes, pensions, retirement funds, and everything else when companies like Merrill Lynch imploded due to mismanagement and greed. Everybody. Only one thing matters to John Thain, and that's John Thain.

He, and greedy self-serving, self-centered, selfish sons of bitches just like him are precisely what caused this mess in the first place.

Wall Street's richest mop-up man doesn't need a bailout.

But those 200 workers out on the street sure as hell do.

What He Said

I wrote a couple of posts last week regarding the so-called 'conspiracy' surrounding Barack Obama's citizenship.

I wish I'd had written this one, by Mike Madden over on Salon. Check it out, it's worth the read.

A Little Perspective

I was listening to the radio out in the shop, talking about how bad the weather is in the Midwest. They interviewed a bunch of people from Milwaukee and Chicago and other such blighted places, all crying and moaning about how bad the current winter storm is.

Seriously?

You're kidding, right?

At the beginning of last week, it was below zero here. Then it warmed up a bit, just enough to snow about a foot to eighteen inches, depending where exactly in the Valley you were. Then, starting on Friday last, it warmed up a lot more, 35F or so.

Then it rained.

All weekend.

Not enough to melt the snow, you understand, just enough to coat everything in layers of wet frictionless ice.

Today, right at this moment, according to my weatherbug gadget the temperature is back down to 25F and all that ice is now rock hard - and at the Palmer Airport the wind is roaring steady at 40MPH and here at Stonekettle Station it's gusting between 50 and 60 MPH strong enough to shake the house like an earthquake and rip branches off the trees.

If you step outside into the ice hockey rink that purports to be my driveway, the wind will push you across the ice into the trees - unless you are wearing crampons (which I am, at the moment). And still you need to keep low, otherwise the wind will flip onto your ass when your crampons stick in the ice and you can't move fast enough to adjust your balance. Shards of ice, blown off the trees and propelled by hurricane force winds, like to blind you and rip the flesh off of your hide. And you really don't want to know what the wind chill factor is right now.

Open your car door with your vehicle facing the wrong way, and the wind will rip that door right off your truck. I saw it happen twice today, not to me fortunately.

Winter, in Alaska. We've got about six more months of this.


So, Midwesterners? Please, come spend a weekend up here. Then go home - and shut the fuck up. Thanks.

Preparing for the Presidency

I haven't publicly commented on the president-elect's selections for his incoming administration.

Mostly because I was waiting to see how it shook out

I think it says a great deal about Obama's strength of character and confidence that he would choose those who are equally strong willed and who may not necessarily agree with him politically.  In other words, Obama seems to be choosing those who will continually challenge himself, themselves, and each other. This is a good thing, this is how real solutions are found, this is how national problems are actually solved, this is how the best course of action in a crisis is found - and if nothing else, it will be a refreshing change from the last eight years of ass-kissing toadies, yes men with their rubber stamps, and the sycophantic enablers who have surrounded the Bush administration.

I'm a bit ambivalent about Obama's selection of Senator Clinton for Secretary of State, but I'm fairly impressed with the rest of his cabinet selections so far.

And then, well, there's retired Army General Eric Shinseki, nominated by Obama last week to the cabinet post of Secretary of Veterans Affairs.

Ha!

Don't get me wrong, I think Eric Shinseki is an excellent choice to head the DVA - and I don't say that lightly, as I'm dependent on the Department of Veterans Affairs for a number of things.

But I do find this nomination amusing, for a number of reasons - not the least of which is the upraised middle finger it flips straight at George W. Bush.

Shinseki's a got a hell of an education, he's a decorated combat veteran who was severely wounded by a landmine in Vietnam during his second tour (and from which he incurred permanent injuries very similar to the kinds of long term issues a hell of a lot of veterans are dealing with right now), he's served all over the world, and he was the driving force behind much of the Army force re-structuring (the things that have worked, and worked well in the current conflict - like the Styker concept).

He also knows what he's talking about, and wasn't shy about saying so - and the Bush administration crucified him for it, just like they did a certain other General who refused to tell them what they wanted to hear. If fact, how the Bush Administration dealt with General Shinseki, is a pretty good example of how they've dealt with just about everybody in uniform who has displayed honor, courage, duty, service above self, commitment, sacrifice, and all those other things that George W. Bush and his neocon supporters hold in such contempt. 

See, back before this conflict began, back in the planning stages, Shinseki said when asked directly for his opinion by Senator Levin before the Senate Armed Services Committee, that in his professional opinion it would take anywhere from one hundred and twenty thousand to "several" hundred thousand troops to hold Iraq after the cessation of major hostilities and that those troops would be needed to maintain and enforce order while the bureaucrats built a stable and functioning government. Shinseki also said they'd be there for a while, nation building isn't something you just pull out of your ass overnight (I'm paraphrasing, obviously).  Understand something very important here, Senator Levin was asking General Shinseki, who was under oath, to give his honest, professional opinion.  Shinseki was required by law, military regulation, and his sworn oath both before the Senate and as a uniformed officer, to answer the question as asked - not give the Bush Administration's canned public relations answer - this being the whole point of the hearing in the first place. Shinseki did so.

You know what happened, of course, Shinseki was pilloried, by Bush, by Cheney, and especially by that twisted arrogant little jackal, Rumsfeld.  None of these men (and I use that term strictly in the biological sense and nothing more) were experts in warfare, in occupation, in nation building, Shinseki was.  None of these men, and Rumsfeld in particular, understand the concept of giving an honest answer to a direct question - to them adherence to the party line is more important than accurate intelligence, accurate planning, professional judgement, and experience. They think you can wage war like you wage a political campaign. They think that you can wage real war the same way republicans having been waging their 'war on drugs' since Nancy Reagan was commander in chief.  Or their 'war on AIDS' or their 'war on poverty.' 

War, combat, military history, the mistakes made in Vietnam and elsewhere - those were the very things that General Eric Shinseki had spent his entire life, career, and education learning, both academically and through directly experience.  General Shinseki was a general for exactly that reason - that's how you get to be a general in the first place.  Not one, not one, of the men who derided Shinseki had anywhere near the General's expertise. Not one.  And yet, those same cowardly men ridiculed a decorated combat veteran and one of the most experienced military leaders in our nation, and they did so publicly.  Rumsfeld went so far as to tell the nation that it would take less than twenty thousand troops to hold Iraq after the war. Twenty thousand.  Maybe even as few as ten.

Shinseki retired not long after the war started. A number of people have suggested that Shinseki was forced to retire as a result of his disagreement with the Bush administration - this is incorrect. Shinseki's retirement was planned by Shinseki himself long before the question of occupation force levels came up.  However, Shinseki was the Army's Chief of Staff - the Senior Officer of the nation's oldest armed service, and not one single senior member of the Bush Administration, including Shinseki's direct boss, Donald Rumsfeld, attended the retirement ceremony. This snub was a cowardly act intended to convey most clearly to those of us in the military that disagree with the party line of the Bush administration and your career will end in disgrace.

Here it is now, years later and thousands of lives later, and guess what?  Turns out General Eric Shinseki was right all along.  Turns out the man knew his profession. Turns out that Bush, Cheney, Rove, Rumsfeld, and that bloodsucking son of bitch Wolfowitz were criminally wrong.

Did any of them apologize? To Shinseki, to the rest of us, to the nation? No, of course not. Bush did have this to say though:

"I think I was unprepared for war," Bush told ABC News' Charlie Gibson in an interview airing on "World News."

Jesus H. Christ, you think, George? Unprepared, there's the understatement of the entire century.

Here's the thing though, there were men who were prepared, who had spent their entire lives preparing, who trained to be prepared, who spent decades gaining the experience to be prepared, men who were wounded in battle and spent the rest of their lives maimed from gaining the experience necessary to be prepared - men like General Eric Shinseki. 

And these were the very men that Bush and his band of leech-like sycophants kicked to the curb. Men like Colin Powell. Men like Eric Shinseki.  And this more than anything is the defining characteristic of the Bush administration - an absolute and utter inability to see that dissension is not disloyalty, that alternate viewpoints must not be suppressed but rather encouraged, and that only men of small ability and weak intellect are threatened by those who are truly capable.

 

Eric Shinseki is an excellent choice for Secretary of Veterans Affairs, and maybe even Secretary of Defense when Gates chooses to move on.

This new President may not be prepared for war - or any of the other crises that may come up in the next four years - but he is surrounding himself with people who are.

And that, my friends, is one hell of a welcome change.

Pearl Harbor

I had intended to write another piece on the December 7th, 1941 surprise attack on Pearl Harbor this morning.

But I've got a couple things going on and just don't have the time.

So I'll simply post a link to last year's piece on Chief Warrant Officer Edwin Hill. Of all the things I've written about here at Stonekettle Station, this piece is the one I'm most proud of.

A Conspiracy Of Stupid

In yesterday's post, I talked about conspiracy theorists.

Well, sort of.

Basically, I was ranting about the stupidity of those who continue to believe Barack Obama is an illegal alien despite all evidence to the contrary, or more correctly, despite the lack of supporting evidence for their accusations - since by law the burden of proof is on them. I mentioned a few of the lawsuits brought by people who want Obama declared ineligible for the office to which he has been elected. No matter what evidence is presented, no matter what facts are verified, no matter how many times their claims are shown unequivocally to be without merit, they continue to believe. Basically, they can't stand to lose, and they can't believe that they are utterly wrong, so they've invented a single goofy non-issue, blown it all out of proportion, and cling to it against all reason in order to justify their hatred of a man the rest of the country has embraced.

I don't think I actually used the term "conspiracy theory" anywhere in the post, but that's really what we're talking about here. If you look at these people you find a pattern, I mentioned Philip Berg, he's a 9/11 "Truther." Andy Martin, the guy who started the Obama is a Muslim terrorist silliness, is a rabid anti-Semite and bigot, and was denied admission to the Illinois bar due to psychiatric diagnosis of paranoid tendencies. Andy has now recanted his opinion that Obama is a Muslim - instead he's come up with a new mind boggling conspiracy and it's a doozy. However, according to Andy, his theory is based on a "gut feeling" and not actual facts or evidence. Really, go read it. The rest of the folks I mentioned are the same (with the exception of Alan Keyes who is probably not a conspiracy theorist - more than likely he's just an opportunistic asshole). No evidence will ever convince these people that what they are doing is wrongheaded and harmful to the country they claim to love and support.

But you know, it's not just the crazy bastards, it's not just the diehard conspiracy theorists - it's all those witless mouth breathers they've managed to convince with their stupidity. Need a scary example? Take Michelle Malkin and her band of uber right-wing Patriots with a capital "P." On November 18th, Malkin said on her blog that the reason Barack Obama got elected was because "Stupid people voted." "Lots and lots of stupid people." Well, yeah, I guess she's talking about me. Apparently the smart people who voted for Bush last time around didn't vote for McCain. Or smart people stayed home. Or only stupid people vote. Or something. Seriously what did you expect from a nasty little ultra conservative blowhard like Malkin? After all, she's the pinhead who raised pluperfect hell about Rachel Ray's scarf and the radical Muslim threat lurking in Dunkin' Donuts. Her idiotic drivel isn't interesting - unless you consider how Malkin herself became a citizen of the United States - but what is insightful from a conspiracy theory standpoint are the 199 comments under that post. I don't expect you to read them all - but I did.

Allow me to sum up (Princess Bride ref, get it?): Obama got elected because the majority of voters are stupid. They're stupid because they are easily deceived. They are easily deceived because they're young. Because they're young they voted democrat because only stupid and lazy people are democrats. Because the majority is stupid, misguided, young, lazy, and democrat, Obama got elected.

Ergo: Stupid/Young People should not be allowed to vote. Voting age should be raised to 25, or 22 if you have kids and a job, or 18 if you're in the military (there are variations, you want to know what they are, you can go read all the comments yourself). There should be a test, an intelligence test, before you're allowed to vote.

Excuse me. Question. Which party was the elitists again? I forgot.

Additionally, the comments point to a number of other conspiracy theories surrounding Obama's win, specifically the media. There's this common perception through conservative circles that Obama only won because the liberal press trashed McCain (and Palin in particular) and promoted Obama. There's also the persistent belief that the media picked McCain, even though conservatives didn't want him, because they knew he'd lose - there's no mention however of why, if Republicans are so much smarter than Obama supporters, they didn't catch this and vote for somebody other than McCain in the primaries. There's the perception that Obama won because he raised more money, no mention of McCain's millions or how come he wasn't as effective of fund raiser, being so much smarter and all. Amusingly, there's a brief aside into how vegetarians are more educated and healthy than the people who voted for Obama - amusing because a quick search of vegetarian websites show a strong liberal bent, in fact I didn't find one that was conservative. Just sayin'. I particularly enjoyed the comment from FamilyMan@132 who blames Obama's win on the education system and says that our kids need to be saved from the far left and we do that by "putting GOD back in the schools," along with the pledge and prayer. He says "God in schools is the main issue, make no doubt about it." Yeah, that's why stupid Americans voted for Obama, no prayer in school.

And just in case you think this kind idiocy is reserved for Malkin's blog, take a look at the comments under this LA Time article. I particularly like the comments that attempt to define a "natural born American." I really like the comment that declares America bases overseas aren't American soil so babies born there aren't natural born America citizens. I love the people who don't get the difference between expository first person and reporting of fact. And I especially like the one comment that questions the printing date on Obama's birth certificate (as displayed in the Times article) and suggests that some "frensic" examination is what we need here. To be honest I didn't read all the comments. I've had about enough stupid this week, thank you.

It's one thing for a person to continue to cling to demonstratively wrong beliefs in the face of contrary evidence and harm no one but themselves. It's another thing entirely, when these same silly idiots attempt to impose their defective world view on the rest of us. Gary Kreep, head of the United States Justice Foundation (sounds like a comic book doesn't it - Hairy Kreep at The Hall of Justice!) and the lawyer who represents Alan Keyes in the California lawsuit said,"We will file lawsuits on his [Obama's] actions, every time. As long as we have money, we will keep filing lawsuits until we get a decision as to his citizenship status." What Mr. Kreep means in context is this: If Obama is sworn in as President, and USJF is not satisfied of his eligibility, they will file a lawsuit against every single action Obama takes as President, every law signed, every executive order given, and like that. See that's where conspiracy theory goes from being a harmless little obsessive mental illness and starts being a danger to the rest of the country.

As I said at the beginning of this post, sadly nothing will ever convince these people that they're wrong - well, short of yesterday's suggestion to slap some sense into them anyway. Like Creationists and UFO nuts they keep adjusting their paranoia in order to maintain their foregone conclusions.

Yeah, it's the the people who voted for Obama that are the stupid ones.

Suuuure it is.

The Sound of One Hand Clapping...

I've often thought the United States would be a better place if it were legal to just smack the shit out of stupid people.

You know, as a public service.

There's an old adage when it comes to training dogs: It's never, ever necessary to hit an animal ... but sometimes you've got to rap that sucker hard right across the nose to get its attention.

See, behavior modification, that's what I have in mind.

Just slap the stupid right out them.  Nothing else seems to work. Not reason, not logic, not education, self-interest, nothing. Electroshock seems a tad extreme, but only a tad - and it takes special equipment (Though in certain cases, I could see spending public money to equip especially persistent stupid people with those electroshock collars used to train dogs). No, a slap seems about right, and anybody can do it.

Think of it like an intervention:

"Say, Bob, I've been thinking about joining that Church of L. Ron Hubbard. The one all the Hollywood stars belong to.  See, you give them all of your money, and they help you get rid of the invisible alien ghosts hiding in your brain! Here's a pamphlet. Sounds good to me. Whatdayathink?"

Slap!

"Ow! Hey! But Tom Cruise said..."

SLAP! SLAP!

"Whoa, what the fuck was I thinking? Thanks, Bro. You saved my ass."

 

See, like that.

Think about it for a moment. Think of how much better the world would be if you could just slap stupid when you see it.  You'd feel better. Lower stress. Less frustrated. The stupid would be reduced.  All of us benefit.

This  could be the thing that pulls the economy out of the drain.  Not only would the idiots who got us into this mess get slapped around, but whole new industries could be created: remote slapping devices, devices to assist the handicapped in slapping, slapping instructors and courses to help identify proper technique and targeting, ear plugs manufacturing to help protect the population's hearing from the shear volume of all that slapping, proxy slapping services. Sure it'll be rough at first, but things will quiet down after a while, as the stupid gets knocked out of people.

Some people though, are going to get smacked around a lot.  Just like with dogs, some are just not trainable. Despite everything you do, some people just persist in their stupidity.

Take this guy for example: Leo Donofrio. Leo filed suit in New Jersey during the election to challenge Barack Obama's  citizenship. Leo lost. He lost for a number of rather obvious reasons not the least of which is the fact that Obama's birth certificate has been verified by the State of Hawaii and a dozen Federal agencies.  It's really just that simple.  Obama then went on to become the President-elect. This does not please Leo or his idiot friends. So he then appealed. Tomorrow the US Supreme Court will review the case and make a determination whether or not to take it up. Legal experts say that there is little likelihood that SCOTUS will actually rule on the case, but this stupidity is still sucking up government time, resources, and money.  Somebody needs a good slap up side their head is what I'm saying here.

Leo's not alone either, there's plenty of stupid to go around. Alan Keyes is suing to halt certification of the California election. A guy in Kentucky brought suit seeking to have a federal judge review Obama's original birth certificate rather than allow the nation to just take Hawaii's word for it.  Andy Martin filed a similar suit in Hawaii, and six more cases pretty much exactly the same have been filed elsewhere. Most have been dismissed. Then there's a guy who filed suit in Hawaii against the "Peoples Association of Human, Animals Conceived Gods and Religions, John McCain, and the USA Government" who wants Obama's citizenship revoked.  This guy also previously sued Wikipedia and "All News Media" for perpetuating what he sees as false information about Obama and various other people.  And, of course, the most famous case questioning Obama's citizenship was the one filed in Pennsylvania last August on behalf of Phil Berg, who sought to prevent the DNC from nominating Obama in the first place. Uh, he lost - for the those of you not paying attention.

Now seriously folks, what's it going to take? Barack Obama's citizenship, his natural born citizenship, has been verified.  No really.   The State of Hawaii has verified the birth certificate.  A number of Federal agencies have verified the birth certificate and Obama's background in detail. You may never have had a security clearance, but I have and I'm telling you that when you get the kind of background checks required for a clearance the FBI knows what kind of diapers your mother pinned to your dirty ass as a baby.  But nothing, nothing, will ever convince these idiots. Nothing. Not even if they held Obama's birth certificate in their own little sweaty hands.  The man isn't even president yet, and these idiots are spinning out conspiracy theories like crazed Loch Ness Monster hunters. The Internet is full of their bullshit. Not one shred of proof to support their claims actually exists - well unless you include the "inconsistencies between the English and Italian translations of the Wikipedia" that a couple of these retards claim as evidence in support of their silliness. Their paranoia would be almost funny if it wasn't so damned stupid.  And it is stupidity, not skepticism, not a desire for truth, or any actual verified information. Stupidity, plain, simple, deliberate, and booger eating

I mean, seriously folks, this kind of stupidity is what the end result of anti-intellectualism, anti-elitism looks like. This kind of stupidity, this reveling in stupidity, is what the future of Neocon evolution, (ur, sorry Neocon intelligent design) looks like. Right here.

 

Somebody needs to knock some sense into these people.

iPhone, is there nothing it can't do?

NSFW. Really.

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Scientists, Smart But Oh So Dumb

For the last two weeks the history channel has been advertising an upcoming episode of their show Universe.

Specifically, the ads are for this evening's episode - entitled Sex in Space.

The brilliant physicist and Universe regular, Michio Kaku, is quoted in the short version of the ads saying, "The future of the human race may come down to one question: Can we have sex in outer space."

The implication being, of course, that sex simply may not be possible in zero-gee. And if we can't do it, well, we can't colonize space and sooner or later we'll use up the Earth and that, as the scientists say, will be that.

The long version of the ad shows people attempting to mimic the physical motions necessary for sex in the zero-gee environment of G-Force One, the civilian version of NASA's Vomit Comet. The narrator's voiceover talks about how difficult it is to just maintain position and a grip on your partner.

NASA denies that it has actually studied space sex in detail, and the Russians are even more tight lipped. The ESA, like Europeans themselves, has a more casual attitude towards micro-gravity sex studies - at least admitting that they're interested in such things. Despite this, the ESA studies haven't done much more than show a drop in male astronaut testosterone levels during space flight. However, a number of male shuttle astronauts report what they call the Viagra effect of weightlessness resulting from the redistribution of fluids within the human body due to zero-gee. Apparently, a number of male astronauts experience a certain form of persistent embarrassment that is usually reserved for 14 year-old boys called to the front of the classroom.

Human bodies are designed for gravity, a constant 9.81 meters per second squared, and those big muscles are a danger in space. Start losing control, or get just a little too enthusiastic, in zero-gee and not only are you likely to bounce away from your partner at the most inopportune time, you're very likely to bash your brains out on the equipment racks. Those having sex in space might be well advised to wear helmets and knee pads. Supposedly, there have been studies showing that sex in zero-gee will require the use of Velcro and elastic belts or bungee cords. During this episode of Universe, scientists speculate about foot holds like the kind on water skis, hand holds like the kind used to help handicapped folks into and out of bath tubs, padded tunnels, special suits, and duct tape (it's like the Force: it has a light side, a dark side, and it binds the universe together, and it could very well be the key to sex in space helping the Jedi steady their light-sabers so to speak).

Even if sex is possible in space, nobody may want to have any according to those who've been up there. There's no privacy in space habitats for one thing. Not only are you in close proximity to your shipmates, but you're also being monitored by about 9000 NASA engineers, scientists, doctors, administrators, and very likely the accounting department. So unless you've got the inhibitions of a zoo monkey, be prepared to have the whole world evaluate your technique. In zero Gee, fluids make your face swell up, often giving you a perpetually stuffed up nose. Sniffing and mouth breathing are generally not considered particularly sexy. So far, there isn't a hell of a lot of hygiene in space either, no showers, just the occasional wet nap bath - after a while you're going to smell like combat boots on patrol in Mosel. A significant fraction of spacefarers experience zero-gee motion sickness - difficult to get aroused when you're suffering projectile vomiting, nausea, fever, and shrieking diarrhea. And even if you do mange to keep your lunch down, well, there are other hazards involving the human intestinal track. Air bubbles, for example, tend to remain in solution without gravity. Which means that every swallow of water contains lots of air - which in turn results in, uh, well, gas. Lots of gas. Skylab astronauts reported farting 500 to 600 times a day. Mix that that with some of those Russian freeze-dried borscht and pickled cabbage meals on the ISS and you have a pretty damned effective birth control shield.

Basically what is comes down to here is that sex in space would be a lot like doing it with a Botulism victim in a ripe port-O-potty on a hot summer day with the entire crowd from Woodstock waiting in line outside the door and cheering you on. Toss in a trampoline, a streaming webcam, and the chance of being permanently maimed and you're pretty much right up there on the shuttle.

So, this then is the concern. Scientists just aren't sure the human race will ever have sex off-planet.

Hah.

Scientists.

Smart guys, no doubt. But have you ever seen one get laid? Yeah, not so much.

Trust me here - people will find a way. They will. People have had sex in refrigerators, bathtubs, trains, drains, and covered in calf's brains. They've had sex with a nun, on a bun, and by the ton. They've had sex dangling from parachutes, in speedboats, upside down in closets, in a crate, on the deck of a rowboat covered in bait, and the backseat of a Volkswagen Beetle on a double date. And I have it on good authority that more than one person had sex with a botulism victim in a ripe port-O-potty at Woodstock while the crowd cheered them on.

Trust me here, NASA Scientists, people will find a way to have sex in outer space.

Send up a couple of seventeen year-olds and order them to stay away from each other.

I give it one day before you find them sharing a spacesuit doing the Bristol Palin.

Really, guys, don't worry about it.

Jeb Bush, Proving That Crazy Stupid is Genetic

Is it just me?

Or does Jeb Bush remind you of one of those nameless Baldwin brothers?

You know, the jowly one with the bad eyes? The one that's a shitty actor? The one that is always in and out of rehab, or in jail for smacking his girl friend, the former stripper, around? (Okay, that really doesn't narrow it down, does it? Well, I can't keep them straight either).

No?

Well, I guess it's just me then.

But, I've got to tell you that the Jeb Bush in this interview strikes me as exactly the kind of grade-B psycho so routinely, and so poorly, played by one of the interchangeable Baldwins:

The whole "interview" is here, at Newsmax, a conservative, Miami based web news site not exactly known for non-biased or accurate reporting. The whole thing is fairly painful to watch (sort of like a Baldwin movie, in fact) as the "reporter" lobs one scripted softball after another at the former governor.

Let me sum it up for those of you too squeamish to watch the whole thing.

Jeb Bush feels that in Washington "we need to show humility and the loyal opposition." Humility? Sure okay, I won't argue with that. Really good luck though. But loyal opposition? Loyal opposition? Seriously? How come when it's the conservatives who disagree with the direction the country is headed, they're the loyal opposition, but when it's the liberals who disagree they're Unpatriotic Arab Socialist Terrorists Who Hate America And Should Move to Canada?

But, hey, that's really just a quibble on my part, not that I don't enjoy good old fashioned hypocrisy when I hear it or anything.

What really caught my attention was Jeb's idea that the GOP should set up a Shadow Government. No really, I shit you not. See? You should have watched the interview.

Shadow Government. Non-partisan, of course, because "people are sick and tired of the partisanship ... just for partisan sake." With that in mind, Jeb's shadow government would be set up based on policy, NOT partisanship because (and I quote) "the Republican ideas, once expressed, are the right ideas." Well, shit. When you put it that way, Jeb, I guess there's nothing partisan about it, I mean as long as you're voting republican that is. Right? Hard to argue with that logic.

I guess this Bush shadow government would be sort of a no-hope counterweight to the Obama Administration. Shadow Government (sorry, I just can't stop saying it. Shadow Government. Shadow Government). Bush doesn't really go in to great detail as to which article in the Constitution would be used to justify its existence. Maybe it's one of the secret shadowy provisions in the Patriotic Act (Article IIV: Holy Fuck! The Democrats Won the House, Senate, and White House, What the Hell Do We Do Now!) Or why, if the idea is so non-partisan we need a Loyal Opposition Shadow Government now, instead of, oh, say, when his retarded little brother was trashing the Constitution, taking us into war, and destroying the economy. Oh, wait, I'm sorry, Jeb did, didn't he? Explain it, that is. Republican ideas, well, they're the right ideas.

Jeb also doesn't mention precisely what the GOP Shadow Government would do. But he does give us a few hints. For example, republicans need to remind African Americans of the the values they share with the GOP, because it was really distressing that 95% of blacks voted for Obama. Poor misguided ignorant minorities. See, apparently if you vote for a black man because he shares your skin tone, you're stupid. But if you vote against a black man, because of his skin color, well that's American. Shared values. Yep. Shared values with the core neocons who think that any black man in this country must be a radical Muslim terrorist. Jeb doesn't mention precisely how the shadow government will build this particular bridge, other than to say that the GOP should recruit candidates who "look like" the voters "we're trying to win over." Boys, if we're gonna win back the White House, we gots to get ourselves a negro candidate of our own!

Jeb's really on a roll in this "interview." He also says that Obama should "defy his core constituency." Obama should take on the teachers union and be on the side of disadvantaged families when it comes to education. We need more school choice, we to pay for performance, we need more accountability - you know, like the republican approach to faith based public education, we don't leave just one kid behind, we leave them all! (Seriously, is nobody seeing the bad Baldwin movie dialog here?) Obama should defy his core constituency? Would that be like how George Bush defied his core constituency and stood up for the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights, and the...oh, never mind.

Republican Ideas, they're the right ideas. Heh, heh, my mistake.

Too damned bad the Bush Brothers didn't go into the shitty movie business, like the Baldwins.

Then they'd at least be marginally entertaining.

The Christmas Tree Adventure

We have a tradition around here.

We put up our Christmas tree on Thanksgiving day.

Seventeen years ago, our first Christmas together (my wife and I that is), we lived in a small townhouse in Pensacola. There wasn't much room and we managed a 2ft tall artificial tree on a table in the living room. Your basic Charlie Brown tree, but we didn't much care - it was our first Christmas and we had fun anyway.

By the following Christmas we had moved to the wilds of northern Maine and into a small ramshackle mouse-infested house on a hill overlooking the spectacular Frenchman Bay. That year we brought a small fir tree from a lot in Ellsworth for far too much money. We discovered that real trees make the house smell great. We also learned that cleaning up the gradually increasing pile of needles isn't too painful - on a hardwood floor.

The year after that, we'd moved further north to the little town of Milbridge and rented a larger and nicer place, rodent free, in the deep woods outside of town. We had a real tree that year too - and discovered that real trees are a pain. No matter what you do, they dry out. Then they become a major fire hazard. And cleaning endless piles of razor sharp and pointy needles out of carpet is a damned difficult process.

The following year we bought ourselves an artificial tree.

We had that tree for many years, and still do in a box in the basement storeroom, and enjoyed it just fine. But a couple of seasons back my wife decided it was time to upgrade. Hey, she reasoned, we already have an artificial tree, why not go all the way and get a fiber optic tree? So we did. The base uses a colored rotating filter wheel above a halogen projection light, transmitted through bundles of fiber optics to the tips of each branch. The tree slowly changes colors in rippling patterns and it's cool as all get out.

There's just one problem - at six foot tall, it's too small.

See, we do Christmas in our sunroom, where we can close the doors and lock out the cats and thus prevent feline mischief to the Christmas decorations. Next to the shop, the sunroom was one of the major reasons we bought this place. The sunroom, and the view out its windows looking down into the MatSu and across the valley at Pioneer Peak, is fully as spectacular as that first little house we lived in back in Maine.

But, see, the sunroom's ceiling is a full 25' high. On the ground floor the sunroom opens off the kitchen on one level, and off the den slightly below it on the ground level. On the second floor, the office opens out on to a balcony halfway up the sunroom's inside wall. And that little fiber optic tree is just lost in there.

We talked about getting a larger tree, but really hadn't put much effort into it. Then a couple of weeks after Christmas last year, we were wandering through the local Wasilla Fred Meyer. See, my wife is of the opinion that you can never have too many Christmas decorations, and every year since we've been married we prowl the stores in January looking for orphaned decorations at bargain basement prices.

Last year we found the tree.

It's a twelve foot tall monster - obviously designed to go in the lobby of a hotel or business, not your standard home decoration. Normally $500, it was marked way, way down. And on top of that there was sign saying that everything was 50% of the marked price. Hmmm, 50% off $500? or 50% off the sale price? My wife went to find a manager, while I sat on the one remaining box to keep other post-xmas predators away. My wife came back with the manager in tow. The manager examined the price tags and sale signs and said, nope, sorry, the price was 50% off the original price. We thanked her and decided that $250 was still a damned good price and sent our son to find a flatbed cart while I began wrestling the giant box out from under the storage rack.

The manager came back.

She said, "You know, that sign is deceptive. It says 50% off the marked price. The price on the tree is marked down. We should have been more clear. I'll give you the tree for 50% off the marked sale price."

Deal! And no mention of the fact that we were going to buy it anyway. But then it was fairly obvious that the manager was also calculating the odds of somebody else actually buying that behemoth, the cost of returning inventory from Alaska, and the advantage of getting the shelves cleared for the spring seasonal merchandise. Giving us a deal was to her advantage, and ours - and who the hell am I to argue about her motives? Especially when they coincide with mine?

Now, at this point I should also mention that Fred Meyer, at least in my experience, has always had outstanding customer service. Their employees are without exception neat, polite, and knowledgeable. The stores are always well organized, stocked, and clean - which is something I can't say about the local Alaskan favorite chain, Carrs, which I really don't like for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is that their stores are always dirty.

The manager went off with my wife to make sure the cashier rang up the agreed on price and sent a stockboy to help me load the rather large box onto the cart.

And here, we (meaning me, the manager, and the stockboy) managed to overlook one critical item. Well, two, actually. We'll come back to that in a minute.

I loaded the box in the truck, collected my wife and son, and we giggled all the way home at our good fortune and in anticipation of how that monstrous tree would look in our sunroom. Yes, we literally giggled. A lot. There were grins and other such happy noises. We like deals, we do. Especially Christmas deals. We stashed the tree in the basement storeroom, next to the now pathetically small fiber optic tree that had seemed so cool and hi-tec not so long before, and the shoddy and threadbare older tree. We piled up the boxes of new ornaments and decorations (What? You buy a new giant tree, you gotta get a bunch of new decorations to cover it - that's a lot of yuletide real estate. And the decorations were on sale).

Periodically, over the last year, the subject of the "Giant Tree" would come up - and we all looked forward to Thanksgiving and the day we would put it up while the turkey was cooking per immutable Family Tradition.

A month ago we bought some LED Christmas lights. We looked for them last year, but they hadn't reached Alaska yet. This year we went early, and at the same Fred Meyer found them on sale at the beginning of November. Woohoo. We being of the opinion that you can never have enough Christmas lights. And LED lights are cool, literally, and they're bright, and they draw a lot less power and last basically forever. So yeah, we bought twelve boxes of them.

So, Thursday morning I got up early and started prepping the Turkey and making dressing (Not stuffing, I cook the bird unstuffed, dressing goes in a large casserole dish and cooks separately. I make my dressing with sausage, cooking it separately ensures that it is fully cooked without over cooking the bird into dried jerky). My wife made sweet potato pie, pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread and we put things on to cook. While Becky peeled potatoes I went down to the storeroom to pull out the tree and the boxes and boxes and boxes of decorations.

We were in a high state of anticipation.

It was at that point I noticed something on the tree box. Something I probably should have noted eleven months ago.

Something I, the store manager, and the stockboy had perhaps overlooked.

Something that could, quite possibly, lead to my untimely demise.

I opened the box. There didn't seem to be enough tree parts.

As we used to say in the Navy, this was non-optimal.

Dark clouds began to gather overhead (metaphorically and literally, it snowed like a bitch all weekend).

See the end of the box says "Box 1 of 2."

Two boxes.

But I only had one.

Seems I was missing about nine feet of tree. The upper nine feet to be precise.

Seems that I should have checked the contents of the box last year, rather than just stashing it in the the storeroom.

I really had no one to blame other than myself - and it was a pretty good bet that everybody else in the household would blame exactly the same guy.

I dithered.

I wandered about the storeroom aimlessly for a while, hoping that the second box would, you know, magically appear. I carried up the decorations, so as to make it appear I wasn't actually stalling for time.

The family began to grow suspicious.

I began to examine a variety of options regarding how, exactly, I would explain to my wife and son (whom I visualized with angry expressions, energy efficient LED torches, and pitchforks festively decorated like candy canes) that I somehow managed to lose nine feet of the tree. I also began to examine the option of just running for the truck and setting off into the wilderness. Better to die peacefully of exposure after the fuel ran out than to be torn apart by the angry mob. I've seen combat, I don't fear bullets or death - but I do fear my wife. Hmmm, now where did I put my truck keys?

It was not to be. She caught me, just as I was reaching for my jacket and hat. And I had to fess up.

She took it better than I expected, especially since I successfully deflected blame onto the hapless stockboy (Hey, better him than me, sacrifices have to be made and he knew the job was dangerous when he took it. Serves the bastard right for ruining Christmas).

Now, what are the odds that Fred Meyer would fix the situation? Especially considering that we no longer had the receipt and that it was at least partly my fault for not checking the boxes at the time of purchase? Which, if you remember, was last January.

Well, on the theory that it never hurts to ask, my wife went up to Fred Meyer's to talk to the manager. Now try to picture this, a strange (but awesomely beautiful) woman shows up, says she bought a Christmas tree last year from your store, she claims she didn't get all the parts, she doesn't have a receipt, and she asks the store to make good on the situation.

What are the odds that Fred Meyer would fix the situation? Pretty damned good actually. Remember what I said about customer service? Well, they're serious about it - OK, and maybe just a little terrified of my wife.

The manager did the best he could to fix it. Unfortunately, they no longer carry that 12 foot tree. Nobody ever bought them, they're just too huge and expensive. And they long ago disposed of that mysterious extra box labeled "2 of 2." So, the manager gave my wife a gift card for the full sale price and apologized for her trouble and aggravation. And seriously here folks, that's just plain outstanding considering the circumstances and the fact that he really wasn't under any obligation whatsoever other than a mandate to make his customers happy.

However, the story doesn't end there. Not quite.

See, the same store carries nine foot trees - from the same manufacturer as the aforementioned twelve foot tree. Nine feet, as you'll recall is about the amount I'm missing from the original tree. Now, I reasoned, wouldn't it make sense from a manufacturing standpoint if the components of the nine footer were the upper nine feet of the twelve footer, and the upper six feet of that were the six footer, and the upper three feet of that were the three footer? Seemed logical, doesn't it?

So, I set up the bottom part of the twelve footer, and measured across the top. Five feet. Then, we took the gift card and went back to Freddy's and checked the dimensions on the nine footer. Sure enough, the base was an exact match. They also had one set up on display, and the department manager helped me check the construction, and it sure as hell looked like I could just plug the nine footer into the pieces I had and get a twelve foot tree out of it.

So, we bought the nine footer - which was marked 25% off on a Black Friday special, which brought the price to exactly $12 above the value of the gift card.

By this time, it was late in the day and we had obligations elsewhere. So we dropped the box off at home and headed to Anchorage. Saturday morning, however, I got up early and set about assembling the tree. Six hours on a ladder later and here's what we ended up with:

Christmas is saved!

Thanks in large part to Fred Meyer, where customer service does indeed matter.

The old fiber optic tree ended up on the balcony of the sunroom (directly above my head in the above picture). All in all it's pretty spectacular in there, and very Christmasy.

Now, if we can just keep the cats out of the sunroom...

Perky People Go To Hell

Rat, you gotta love him. I do.

And today's winner of the Shitty Website Award is...

WWW.BuyMTDOnline.com

Congratulations, MTD Yard Machines.  Give them a big hand everybody! Come on down, MTD, you've earned yourself the patented Stonekettle Station hobnail boot kick in the nuts.

It takes a special kind of incompetence to design a webpage that is so singly useless, frustrating, and utterly without merit as BuyMTDonline, it really, really does.

Seriously, in this day and age of global competition through the online marketplace, how any company that is fronted by a poorly designed, and basically worthless website, manages to survive simply astounds me.

I broke the pull starter recoil assembly on my MTD snow thrower.  I gave it a yank, and the recoil spring snapped, and the cord hit bottom and broke.  I took the assembly off the engine and discovered that the spring housing is machine-pressed and basically cannot be repaired without a lot more effort and jury rigging than I'm willing to commit to the project. Note that this particular mechanical failure is not in any way unusual for a small gasoline engine. Yank on the cord enough times, and eventually the damned thing is going to fail.  It's a common replacement item, anybody who repairs lawn mowers and snow blowers and other such small-engine powered devices will tell you that.

Now, I use the snow thrower mostly to clear a path down to the kennel and to clear around the shop.  I use the big Polaris ATV to plow the drive, and when the plow berm gets too deep along the edge of the drive I use the snow thrower to fling it fifty feet back into the yard.  I can live without the the snow blower for a couple of days, and I didn't feel like running into town. So, I got the model number from the information plate on the back of the machine and came inside to order the part off the Internet. A couple of days, a week maybe, and UPS should deliver it - two bolts later and I'm back in business. Right? I mean it's the 21st Century, isn't it? We don't have the those personal jet belts or flying cars, but ordering stuff off of the Internet and having it delivered right to your doorstep in Alaska is almost as good.  I do it so often that I barely even think about it.  Seriously, it's a sixty mile trip into Anchorage, 120 miles round trip for those of you not good with the math, and at today's gas prices and the time lost it's just a whole lot cheaper and more convenient for me to order a lot of the things I need online. 

Which brings us back to the point of this rant, piss poor commercial websites, and specifically ones like BuyMTDonline. There's the usual jittery flash player adds for the latest products, wedged in among the glaring red frame that makes you feel like you're getting a sunburn or been dropped onto Mars. But on the left hand side there's a link labeled "Shop For Parts."  Click on "Find Your Part" and you get a page giving you three options, well, two really, the third one is supposed to help you with the first two.

Option 1: Illustrated Parts Look Up Tool. Enter the Part Number or Model. Simple enough, so I clicked on that.  Enter the model number. The "Part Look Up Tool" finds the correct machine. So far so good. The "Tool" gives me a menu tree with "Illustrated Parts List" and  "Attributes." Parts, that's what I need. I click to expand that and get a list of major assemblies one of which is "Engine and Pulley Assembly." Click. I get an exploded diagram of the engine - minus the pull starter recoil assembly. Hmmm. Check the other diagrams. Nothing. Check the "Attributes" option, nothing, it doesn't do anything useful at all. Well hell.

Now, I'm getting irritated. It's a common part, how come it's not on the diagram? Fine, let's try Option 2. Except, that you can't get there from here. You've got to go back to the main selection menu and start over. Urk! Idiots.

So, Option 2: Owner's Manual (No, I no longer have the original manual for the machine, it got lost long ago in one of the countless moves I've made since buying the machine in 1993).  The owner's manual contains a detailed exploded parts diagram as I recall. Great, I'll download that, get the part number and try option 1 again.  Option 2 gives me two data entry fields, model number and serial number. Serial number? Why for should I have to enter a serial number? I put in the model number and hit enter. No joy, serial number is required.  God DAMN it. Why? What conceivable reason could there be that I should have to enter the serial number of my specific machine? Do they print a custom manual for each and every machine? Back to the shop, up end the machine, look at the information plate. No serial number. There's a model number and a manufacture's number - but no serial number. I looked all over the machine, nothing. Back to the house, try manufacturer's number in the serial number field. MTD does not want. At this point I've reached the screaming and swearing stage of aggravation.

Try option 3, Locate your Model and Serial number. There's a helpful diagram of a standard MTD information plate on the back of all MTD machines - except it doesn't look like mine at all.  Back to the shop just to be sure. Nope, not the same. But just for good measure my information plate does say that it is an authentic, youbetcha, genuine MTD machine. And now I'm adding throwing of random items and kicking things to the screaming and swearing.

So, here we are. I can enter the model number under option 1, which finds the machine but doesn't link to the manual and doesn't list the part I need.  Supposedly I can use Option 1 to search for that part, if only I knew the part number. Which I could probably get from the manual, except Option 2 will not find the machine's manual, despite the fact that I know the machine exists in their database, and doesn't allow for searches without a specific serial number - which it will not recognize for my machine.  There are a dozen links for various things on the parts ordering page, and no matter how you click on them they all eventually bring you around to the same point - like the circular logic of stupid. 

There's a helpful 1-800-screw-you number, which you supposedly can call and get an actual MTD technician, except it being a 4-day weekend nobody is answering.

 

Now, I've found a dozen websites fronting small Mom & Pop operations scattered across this country and Canada that carry the part I need.  I've also found the part on eBay, again from a dozen different providers.   All of these sites provide easy access to the information I need, allow for 24/7 ordering, and about half (none of the eBay sites, of course) provide free or reduced shipping - to anywhere in the world.

And there you have it, mom and pop cottage shops are global entities.  A guy selling products out of his basement on eBay is an international operation.  All have professionally designed and easy to use websites.  So how come a major outfit like MTD Yard Machines doesn't?  And MTD is by no means the exception when it comes to crappy webpages and useless online store fronts.

American businesses continue to show a profound lack of understanding when it comes to customer service in the modern information age.

And it's costing them.

It's costing them in lost business, reduced efficiency, and aggravated customers.

Turns out I had to run into town after all (that's another post, involving giant artificial Christmas trees), so I swung by the WoodMizer Mill, where they also have an equipment repair shop.  They had the exact part I needed, slightly used, but hey, at least they had it. 

So, the snow blower is fixed and ready for the next big blizzard, which, if the forecast and the black clouds hanging over the Valley are any indication, will be soon.

And MTD? MTD can kiss my ass.

And speaking of giving thanks...

What am I thankful for this Thanksgiving?

I'm thankful that this deluded moron will be unemployed in two months.

"I'd like to be a president [known] as somebody who liberated 50 million people and helped achieve peace," Bush told his sister, Dorothy Bush Koch, in a conversation recorded for the oral-history organization StoryCorps for the American Folklife Center at the Library of Congress. Translation: "history" is like "science," i.e. whatever you say it is. Black is white, white is black, 2008 is 1984.

"I surrounded myself with good people," Bush said. "I carefully considered the advice of smart, capable people and made tough decisions." Translation: Dick, Karl, and Don told me what to do. They seem really smarterer and intellectualated to me, but not in an elitist sort of way.

"I think the No Child Left Behind Act is one of the significant achievements of my administration because we said loud and clear to educators, parents and children that we expect the best for every child, that we believe every child can learn, and that in return for Federal money we expect there to be an accountability system in place to determine whether every child is learning to read, write, and add and subtract," he said. Translation: Just like my own education, see how well that worked out?

Asked how he would like to be remembered, Bush said he wants to be known as a president "that focused on individuals rather than process; that rallied people to serve their neighbor; that led an effort to help relieve HIV/AIDS and malaria on places like the continent of Africa; that helped elderly people get prescription drugs and Medicare as a part of the basic package; that came to Washington, D.C., with a set of political statements and worked as hard as I possibly could to do what I told the American people I would do." Translation: You've got to be fucking kidding me. Next he's going claim credit for the booming economy, record Wall Street gains, and free energy to every American.

Gah, the rest of the interview is even more bizarre. And I find the quote from Laura Bush just as enlightening - talk about being an enabler.

I swear to God, if it was anybody else who was this disconnected from reality they'd have been pumped full of Thorazine and locked in a padded cell long ago.

Snow Day, again

For the next couple of hours, I will be outside, moving snow for the second time this week.

Despite the fact that I have a very large driveway, it usually doesn't take me long to clean it out with the ATVs, however today will be a pain.

The roof of the shop had about a foot of snow on it yesterday. This is generally a good thing, as the snow helps further insulate the already well insulated building and reduces my heating requirements. However, the roof of the shop is steel, and colored dark brown, and absorbs heat. Again, this is normally a good thing. Except yesterday, when in the afternoon it warmed up enough to cause the entire 3500square foot expanse to unload, WHOOMPF! all at once.

So, this morning I have a three foot deep mound of snow, fifty feet long, down each side of the shop. Since the snow was wet, and fell from thirty feet up and was moving when it hit the ground, and then froze solid last night, it is now a rock-solid, compacted ice berm.

And I have to move it.

That's going to take a shovel, the ice spud, and both the small maneuverable ATV, followed by the big powerful ATV, and maybe the big snow thrower.

While I'm not particularly thrilled about this, I am looking forward to the exercise - though it means I'll no doubt be in pain later.


Now, I do realize that me telling you that I'm going to go move snow constitutes the bloggy content equivalent of soybean filler. I do have a big post on the auto-industry bailout about half done, however, occasional commenter Rick, the jerk, called me and interrupted my thought process. And now, I'm about out of time, I've only got a couple hours of relative warmth and daylight, so I need to go take care of the snow. Now.

So, it's soybean filler for now. You can blame Rick.

But you know, I consider putting you all on a diet today my civic duty anyway, since tomorrow you're all going to stuff yourselves like the gluttons you are. I know I sure will.

Enjoy your day.

More later.

Thank YOU, Sarah Palin

Is it just me?

Or does it seem that there are a whole lot more stupid people than there used to be?

I'm not talking about people who have some type of structural or developmental defect in their neural network. No. I'm talking about those who have the mental tools, but refuse to actually use them for anything other than a hammer.

I'm talking about that half of the human race who willingly fall below the average mean, intelligence wise - and not only delight in it, but are deliberately doing everything they can to push the average even lower.

I'm talking about people who label intellect as 'elitist' and use the word as a curse. I'm talking about people who willing and deliberately wallow in ignorance and stupidity.

Yeah, those idiots.

Seems like there are a whole lot more of them than there used to be. So many so that they're forming into groups now and advertising their stupidity on TV.

Stupid. I've talked about this before. I've gone so far as to identify recognizable rules governing stupidity:

1. Stupid is logarithmic
2. Stupid is a self attractor
3. Stupid evolves
4. Stupid abhors a vacuum
5. Stupid doesn't discriminate
6. Stupid loves technology
7. Stupid is insidious
8. Stupid is tenacious
9. Stupid is fun
10. Stupid is profitable

Refer to Wright's Stupid List for my rigorously scientific analysis of human stupidity and a detailed explanation of the above rules.

Today, I've identified a new stupid rule:

11. Stupid is proud to be stupid

Take this bunch of idiots, for example. They've gone so far as to elect themselves a queen.

Yeah, what were the ingredients again for moose chili?

The stupid, it burns.

Monday, all over the place

Folks, you really don't want to read a post from me today.

No, seriously, you don't.

It is very, very likely that I'm going to snap and start shooting things this morning - afternoon now actually and that pisses me off even more.

I went to get a cup of coffee this morning and run a few errands. Big mistake. Every damned moron in the valley is out today and to top it off the temperature warmed up last night, it's about 40F at the moment. Good, right? Wrong. 40F is above freezing, which means the roads are glare ice. I finished my errands, got my coffee and was on the way home and turned onto my street very carefully.

Not carefully enough, unfortunately. Despite new tires and manual 4-wheel drive and low speed, the truck slid and caught the edge of the snow. Which swung the rear end around - into the ditch. Because the conditions were so slick, I couldn't do a damned thing about it and slid backward over the edge, towards a fifteen foot drop into the trees. Fortunately, the truck stopped just short of the drop off (about 6 inches short actually) and missed the trees. I set the transmission for low-range and locked the transaxles, but I couldn't get enough traction to get it out. I didn't dare try too hard for fear of sliding the rest of the way down the hill. I could probably have rigged a tow cable and winch, which I keep in the cargo box in back, and pulled it out with an hour's worth of work. Screw that, I'm insured, I called the tow truck instead - and stood there hoping the damned thing wouldn't decide to suddenly slide down the hill while I waited for the wrecker to show up.

He came along 30 minutes later and had me out pretty quick. No damage to the truck, which, you know, makes me reasonably happy considering. I took a few pictures, figuring you all would be interested and maybe a little amused.

Unfortunately, I took the damned pictures with my cell phone. Where they remain. Because Motorola has the absolute worse fucking piece of crap interface software in the history of shitty-assed piece of crap programming. Their stupid phone software doesn't work, has never worked, is unlikely to work anytime in the future. Motorola does not understand basic communications device standards and wouldn't know how to implement a USB interface if it crawled up and bit them on their corporate ass. Which is pretty fucking sad when you consider that Motorola is supposed to specialize in communications systems. After twenty minutes of screwing around with this piece of crap I give up - it's either that out take the phone out to the shop and smash it into a million pieces with the biggest sledge hammer I have, wrap it in C4, and mail the resulting surprise to Motorola's CEO as a Christmas gift - which means I'd have to go to the post office and frankly I'm already having a bad day and the USPS would be the final straw. Really, I'm not sure anybody would surivive it.

I'm about due for a new phone - and I can tell you that it will not, ever, be another Motorala. In fact, I'm pretty damned sure that unless somebody holds a gun to my head, and maybe not even then, that I will not ever own anything made by Motorola again. I don't spend money on shit, and Motorola has decided that instead of building the quality they were once known for, they'd rather build shit. Therefor I will take my business elsewhere. Piss off, Motorola, you've lost yourself a customer. And if the bitching I'm hearing from everybody else who owns your shitty products is any indicator, well, we'll see you in bankruptcy court, assholes.

Anyway, if you were expecting something witty, amusing, deep, or even vaguely interesting - well, you're going to need to look elsewhere today.

Me, I'll be out in the shop, probably screaming and smashing things until I feel better.

Tree Rats

So, I stepped out of the shop door and found this varmint in the black currant tree about five feet from my face. I happened to have the Sony in hand and snapped a couple of shots just for you.

No fear. At all. She's hungry, apparently. Well, that and she's used to me I guess. And she reminded me that I need to fill the squirrel feeders. Those black currants are nasty, bland and tasteless and frozen into little BB pellets.

How she avoids becoming eagle food, I don't know - especially since I've seen three Bald Eagles this morning, two adults and a juvenile in speckled plumage. She's quick though and maybe that's it. She lives in the spruce tree down my back hill and can make it a hundred yards to the currant tree or the feeder without once setting foot on the ground. Amazing agility, wish I had it.

So, there you go, Squirrel Bloggin Friday.

Friday Video Selection

Yeah, yeah, I know Fridays are supposed to be about catbloggin' - but technically that's more like a guideline than what you'd call actual law.

I'm listening to Tracy Chapman this morning as I try to achieve the correct mental Zen for the current chapter of Iyes of the Dead - which is kicking my ass.

I may have mentioned somewhere that I'm a huge Chapman fan - I love this woman's voice and lyrics and could listen to her music endlessly. The following, Telling Stories, is probably my favorite - but that's like choosing from a box of high quality of chocolates, it really doesn't matter what you pick because they'll all terrific (well, except for those stinking coconut ones. I hate coconut). Watch the video carefully, more than once, it's incredibly subtle.

Oh, and there's a cat in the video, so technically I am meeting the catbloggin' requirement. Just sayin' is all.

Then there's Talking Bout a Revolution, and this being one of my favorite mixes:

And finally, You're the One For Me, from the Austin City Limits concert - and the backup band is just freakin' terrific.

Now, if you'll excuse me I need to push at least 2000 words through the blender this morning - hopefully 500 of them will actually stick.

Well, It's now official...

...Alaska, and by extension the United States, is doomed.

Ted Stevens conceded his bid for a seventh term, and Alaskans will now have a democrat for a Senator.

Oh, God. We're screwed. It's the talk of the town, literally. People at the Palmer Starbucks this morning looked like somebody, probably gay atheist illegal aliens, turned their favorite puppy into puppy enchiladas. We'll lose our share of the congressional pork roast! They'll take away our guns! Family values are in the crapper. Gay marriage! Free abortions! Atheists! Dogs and cats living together, it'll be anarchy. Only Ted Stevens could save us! We're doooooooomed!

Please.

Look, there's no denying that Uncle Teddy has done a hell of a lot for Alaska in four decades as her Senator. And Alaskans have gotten used to Ted Stevens, used to the money he pulled into our state, used the power he wielded as the Senate's longest serving member, used to making excuses for his crotchety and cantankerous nature, and used to ignoring some of the more unsavory things he managed to ram through the Senate. The truth of the matter is that for a long time we were better off with him, than without him.

There's little doubt in my mind that Ted Stevens would have won a seventh term if he hadn't been convicted of lying and corruption - and he very nearly did win anyway. But, see, that's the whole point here. Both corruption and Ted Stevens are fixtures of Alaskan politics, and Alaskans are having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that Ted won't be there any more. The corruption, well, that's unlikely to go anywhere, anytime soon. The faces change, but some things remain exactly the same in Alaska.

They say you can get used to hanging, if you hang long enough. And that's how it is with us and Ted. We're used to him. So much so that it blinds us to some very obvious truths.

Stevens is a crook. That's not just me spouting hyperbole, it's the literal truth. He was convicted. He may win on appeal, I think that's unlikely but I wouldn't put any money on it. However, until and unless he wins that appeal - he's a convicted criminal. Oh hell no, say my neighbors - Ted was railroaded. The judge had a liberal agenda. The witnesses were tampered with. The evidence was tainted. The jury was biased. The sun was in my eyes! A dog ate my homework! I was kidnapped by aliens!

There's a word for this type of rationalization, it's called denial.

Ask yourself a simple question: Who do you hire when you need work done on your house? Did you answer, "An oil industry support company that has a vested interest in how I vote on issues in the state?" No? Me neither. If I need renovations done around Stonekettle Station that I can't do myself, I hire a contractor who specializes in such things, not Exxon.

Now, ask yourself another question: Who are you going to listen to, the company who is upgrading your house as a favor? Or some bearded scruffy guy in a bush cabin halfway across the state who didn't have the foresight to send you a decent gift? Exactly.

One last question, If everything Ted Stevens did was aboveboard, why didn't he declare the gifts and the money on his congressional disclosure forms? Uh huh.

Everything else in the Ted Stevens case depends from those three questions. And Ted's answers to those questions can be boiled down to "Step off, I'm Ted Stevens." It wasn't the judge, or the jury, or the venue, or anything else. It was Ted Stevens himself and those entities he chose to represent. Ted did this to himself.

Now, I'm not so idealistically stupid as to think that what's good for the oil industry in Alaska isn't often good for Alaskans. The truth of the matter is that Alaska is by and large about oil at the moment. And if Exxon-Mobile, Conoco-Phillips, British Petroleum, and their various supporting businesses and hanger-ons flourish, well, so very often do we. And like it or not, that's how America works - our representatives listen to powerful industry lobbyists and the common citizen goes along for the ride. Jobs, money, and pork follow.

But, what's good for industry in Alaska, isn't always good for Alaskans - just ask those Alaskans who used to fish for a living in Prince William sound prior to Exxon's little spill, or the natives who used to fish and hunt for their very existence downstream from some of the big mines and oil fields, or those Alaskans in the Bush who's villages are going bankrupt trying to keep the heat and electricity on while Big Oil rakes in record profits, or those of us Alaskans paying three times the national average for gasoline, natural gas, and heating oil. And it's this group of Alaskans that ended Stevens' tenure on Capital Hill. Turns out that there are more folks in Alaska who didn't see themselves benefiting from Uncle Ted's cozy relationship with the Oil Industry than did. Not a lot, but enough.

And let that be a lesson to politicians. It may be those lobbyists and your friends with money who give you gifts, and power, and whisper flattery in your ear - but ultimately it is the people who decide whether or not you stay in power. Disregard them at your peril.

And let that be a lesson to the citizens. Your vote counts. It does. Stevens lost this race by a very narrow margin. Your vote counts. And it's the single most powerful tool any citizen has. Your vote counts. It's the one thing that a politician can't ignore.

Alaskans, take a deep breath. Alaska will be just fine without Ted Stevens. He's done good things for us, but Ted Stevens isn't the only Alaskan who can successfully represent this state - and represent you. Senator Elect Begich is a lifetime member of the NRA, a strong supporter of gun rights, wants to open restricted reservations to gas and oil exploration, and believes less government the better. Frankly, he sounds a hell of a lot more like a Republican than a Democrat.

And one last thing for those conservatives down there in the lower 48 whining about Ted Steven's loss and what it means to the balance of power in Washington. Tough. Republicans have no one to blame for their loss of majority except themselves. No one. Nobody stole this election - they voted. That's democracy. You win some, you lose some - and if you want to win you'd better start thinking about why you lost.

Good bye, Ted. Thanks for your service and for what you did for Alaska.

Welcome aboard, Mark.

Now, get to work and remember who you work for.

Things that Chap My Ass

- Words that aren't spelled like they sound. I hate the English language, what a freakin' hodgepodge. Eye before Ee, except after Cee - the rules, they're just plain arbitrary. Strunk and White were drunkards.  Every rule of English grammar (See? See? Why is it "grammar" instead of "grammer?" Drunkards, I say) is stolen from a real language. English is the duck-billed platypus of written communications.

- Installation programs that open a dialog box with an indicator bar to gauge the progress of the installation - and when they get to 'zero seconds remaining' they just sit there. Forever. And ever. And for freakin' ever. Goddamn it, there's obviously a few stinking seconds remaining, isn't there?  It's like the program is just taunting me. A computer is basically just a fancy clock, would it be so damned hard to show an accurate progress bar? Well, would it?

- The bell on my toaster oven. Hell, the bell, beeper, buzzer, binger, dinger, donger, or ringer on any damned machine. I hate being preemptively summoned by the the toaster. Hate. It. The toaster oven has a loud shrill electronic bell that bleats like a panicked republican at a gay pride parade. Seven times when the toast is done. Seven times. Seven. Jesus Pea Picking Christ on a left-handed chrome-plated gas-powered pogo stick, if I let the damned toast get cold before I remember to get it - then that's how I like it today. Piss off, toaster oven, it's just toast not the end of the world.  And the buzzer on the damned clothes dryer, holy battle stations Batman! Nuclear alert warnings for a Soviet first strike weren't that loud, shrill, or persistent.  Buzz! Buzz! Hurry! Hurry! Your raggedy work pants are getting wrinkled. Help! Alert! Sooner or later I'm going to take a hammer to the Maytag man.  I don't like taking orders from a machine and I really don't like machines that talk. Don't even get me started on those demon-spawned self checkout lines with the smarmy computer voice that sounds like bad Majel Barrat from the evil alternate Star Trek universe in Mirror, Mirror.

- Splash screens. Modal splash screens. You know, the ones that pop up while the big bloated program loads and sit square in the middle of your screen blocking everything else so you can't check email or do anything useful until the goddamned program is finished loading? Yeah, those. I hate those damn things. Kiss my chapped ass, Adobe.

- Those damned paper subscription postcards stuffed into magazines.

- Cat hair. I've got two big house cats (yes, and one wee Shop Kat). The two house cats shed like you would not believe. Seriously, I get enough hair on a daily basis to knit an entire other cat. Sometimes I find giant wads of cat hair, like some freakish dust bunny hopped up on Hair Club For Men, big enough to clog the Dyson industrial vacuum cleaner. What the hell is the purpose of this?  If you're into evolution, what possible survival characteristic is continuous and sustained marathon shedding selected for? If you're all about the creation thing, what possible reason for this furry blizzard could there be other than God hates me?

- Spam. No not the canned pork-like product. I like that, especially fried. The other kind of spam.  Spam pisses me off.  Spammers piss me off.  People who click on spam piss me off.

- DVDs.  I hate everything about DVDs.  Stupid, slow, ugly, crippled over-priced technology. I hate that dumb FBI warning that I can't jump over. I hate the idiotic packaging on new DVDs, sealed, shrink wrapped, security enabled, double banded, locked, blocked, chocked, and wrapped in a rabid pitbull's colon. For crying into your tomato soup, those spent plutonium casks the DOE is transporting through your neighborhood to Yucca Mountain aren't sealed half so well.  Good God, it's a three dollar copy of Doc Hollywood that I got out of the bargain bin at Wal-Mart, I'm not going to steal the fucking thing - even if it does have Julie Warner naked in it. But more than anything, I hate DVD menus. I hate them with the heat of a thousand flaming suns being ripped apart in nuclear agony by ravening black holes spawned in the hearts of dying galaxies. I hate them. Every damned menu is an opportunity for repressed neverbeenlaid technogeeks who dream of becoming real movie directors to express their creativity.  Just get to the controls already! And then, when the controls finally do appear after ten minutes of clipped scenes and clever sound bites and swirling effects, there is no standardization to the controls at all. You can't hardly tell which damned button is selected by the little curly cursor thingy and then when you finally do get it onto the Play Movie button, well do you push "Play" or "Enter" or "the magic button that does nothing anywhere else so we made it start the movie button because we know how much you enjoy DVD menu control cryptography and getting to know your remote?"  Seriously, pick a fucking standard, Menu Geeks.

- Lowerider jeans. Ten pounds of ass in a five pound bag. Nobody looks good in those. Nobody. Really.  Seriously ladies, from behind you look like you've got a load in your britches.  A woman's ass should be heart shaped, not shaped like a stack of bricks on a pallet. I'm going to be honest with you all, lowriders make you look like a Shar Pei stuffed into a one of those doggy Halloween costumes. But that's not what irritates me, no. What irks me about lowriders jeans is the constant hitching. Goddamn, ladies, this entire generation looks like it's been infected with mad cow disease.  Women must spend 80% of their day hitching those stupid pants up and pulling their little belly shirts down and bitching about the cold. You're cold because your clothes don't cover your ass, that's the whole damned problem.

 

- and lastly, Dick Cheney and Alberto Gonzales indicted by a south Texas Grand Jury for the mistreatment of foreign prisoners and it doesn't even make the major news feeds above the fold. It chaps my ass that it's taken this long. It chaps my ass that their boss isn't included in the indictment. And it chaps my ass that the America people don't care enough about it to even notice.

 

Yes, I'm feeling crabby today. Can you tell?

So, what chaps your ass?