Saturday, September 26, 2015

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Friday, September 25, 2015

It's Friday night, Mama.

Loneliness Will Blind You.

Nathan Bracken, Sgt. 133rd Pennsylvania Infantry, Company F, was killed on December 13, 1862 at the Battle of Fredericksburg.





Three and one-half years later, on June 6, 1866, his widow, Elizabeth Charity Whited Bracken, filed for a Civil War pension.


Swear I'm gonna find (a picture of) him one of these nights. Can't find him. He was probably buried under Caroline Street initially and then was probably moved one or two more times after that, maybe the Chancellorsville dead were dumped in on top of him? Parts of him could be scattered over Spotsylvania County.


Three years, two and one-half months after that, on August 20, 1869, Elizabeth Charity Whited Bracken gave birth to William Benjamin Bracken. The father is unknown.

I've been searching for the daughter

Of the devil himself

I've been searching for an angel in white[d]
Heh-heh-heh-heh.

Did the loneliness blind you in between wrong and right? Or were you just a frisky filly? Heh-heh-heh-heh. Really, tell your great-grandson, your fever was high and the wicked wind whispered and moaned, yes? You wanted someone to be kind to in between the dark and the light. You had your demons, you had desires, I know, I feel ya grandma, I feel ya, hell! I got a few of my own. Heh-heh-heh-heh.

Grandma Bracken, seriously, whaddup with that? Uncle Benny was born August 20, 1869 which means you would have gotten knocked up on or about November 20, 1868. You would have been pregnant on the sixth anniversary of your husband's death. Now, it is possible, it is possible that that was the first roll in the hay you had had since Nathan left home in August, 1862 and that you got knocked up that first time. It's possible! But the likelihood is that that was not the first time, that in your charity you had been giving away the pussy. That makes you a slut. Okay! so you're a slut. Fine! But it wasn't okay back then. If you had married the father, no one would have begrudged you; if you had named him, maybe you didn't want to get married again, some (I among them) would have understood. But you didn't which makes you just a slut. And then, to go on wearing mourning black for the rest of your days, it's insulting. Now, you're a hypocritical slut. It matters, being a hypocritical slut matters. It affected relations between your family and mine for generations. Jesus Christ, that is rude. Cold, Grandma Bracken, that is cold.


Who's your daddy! He-heh-heh.

Boehner Walks Away.

John Boehner will resign the speakership of the U.S. House of Representatives and give up his seat in Congress altogether at the end of October. 

Thursday, September 24, 2015

Searching for Sgt. Bracken.

Take me home
Country roads
To the place
I belong

                                                                   Mountain Mama.


                                                             The "C" is for Charity.

My mother used to love to play with her cousins, the Whited kids, when she was a little girl. Her mother always discouraged her. Made mum sad. Gram would never say why. Really bothered mum. We were extended family! When Gram came to live with us and mum was a mature woman with kids of her own she asked Gram again.

Elizabeth (who my grandmother was named for :o) (see below)) Charity Whited Bracken was a little too...charitable for Gram. Maybe it was contagious. E.C.W.B. was married to Nathan Bracken until death did them part at Fredericksburg. That was in 1862. In 1869 E.C.W.B. gave birth. :o Did not remarry. Gave birth to a baby boy who I am named for, Benjamin Bracken. Father unknown.

Uncle Benny (unknown to me) was beloved by my family. The sweetest, gentlest, most wonderful person :), great with kids, that was Uncle Benny according to my mother, who adored him. But, "Uncle Benny wasn't quite right." That's what mum would always say, "Uncle Benny wasn't quite right. Then why did you name me after him, MO-ther?  What does that mean specifically anyway, he wasn't "quite right?"
Oh. You mother.

The beloved Uncle, Benjamin Bracken, is seated at left. If I ever knew who the other two were I've forgotten although the (comparatively) intelligent-looking man has the features of one of my brothers. Uncle Benny
looks
         like
               noone
                         in the family.

Because one-half of him wasn't part of the family! But I have his name. So my distinguished sounding full name, Benjamin Franklin Harris has nothing whatsoever to do with Benjamin Franklin. Benjamin comes from Uncle Benny and Franklin was the middle name of the doctor in the family who for a novelty occasionally dispatched patients to the next world in addition to delivering others into this one, including the husband of a close relation, leaving a widow and a father-less daughter. He supported the truncated family in style for the rest of their days as recompense for his not quite perfected surgical skills. Franklin, the Franklin of the physician, I'll take that. Benjamin of Uncle Benny, I think I have developed life-long self-doubt as his namesake. 
Goodness gracious, "at least" 717 people have been killed in a stampede near Mecca, Saudi Arabia during the hajj. Over 100 were killed in a crane that collapsed on a mosque a week or two ago so total hajj-related deaths are over 800 now. God.

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Searching for Sgt. Bracken.


There she is the war hero's dazzling better half, Elizabeth (nee Whited) Bracken, here pictured in advanced widowhood, wearing the black mourning clothes that my family said she wore for the rest of her life, sans however the corncob pipe which my family also said said she smoked on the porch of her house as daily accompaniment to her mourning black, contributing to her evident aggreeable disposition. Grandma Bracken, friends and enemies, Grandma Bracken. 

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

"91 Year-Old Woman Charged With 260,000 Counts of Accessory to Murder."-Time.

?

El-Sisi!! Sounds like an Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood arrest.

German prosecutors...91-year old woman...worked at...Auschwitz.

Ah, Auschwitz, okay...What did she do, what was her work?

Spokesperson...German prosecutors...woman is a former radio operator for the camp's commandant.

Radio operator. Radio. Operator.

Man, I don't know about this one.

She is not the only one...supporting role...Oskar Groenink, 94,..."bookkeeper of Auschwitz"...convicted...300,000 counts...accessory...July.

The "bookkeeper of Auschwitz?"

Not as ominous sounding as "Butcher of Buchenwald,"  "Angel of Death," "Blonde Beast."  "Bayonne Bleeder." "Wild Bull of the Pampas." Have to work with what you've got, I guess.

Alright, German prosecutors knock yourselves out. We need a name for this lady, though. "The Bitch of Auschwitz?" "The Radio Bitch of Auschwitz." "Radiohead."  "The Voice of Auschwitz"...Like that one! "The "Dispatcher of Death," Oooh! "W-G-A-S, all-talk, all the time."

Man, I don't know about this.

Walker Walks Away.

The short unhappy presidential candidacy of Wisconsin governor Scott Walker ended today. Canadian criminals and rapists will continue to be able to enter the U.S. without the obstacle of a wall.

Monday, September 21, 2015

I was hurrying to take a final examination in college when I realized that I had forgotten to take a writing instrument with me. You know how kids will take, like, 15 pens and pencils to a final, just in case 14 break or don't write? I was never one of those kids but I didn't have a one. When I realised this holocaust I got exasperated with myself. Was there a place on the way where I could buy one quickly? There wasn't and if there had been it would make me a few minutes late to the final and being late for ANYTHING causes me stress. Should I ask a kid if I could borrow from his sacred stash? I never said anything aloud, I didn't grab people at random and start begging for a pen or pencil. I did not give voice to my agony, I just kept walking purposefully with my head down keeping my anxious thoughts to myself. With these potentialities whirring in my mind as thoughts whir, at near the speed of light, I had only taken two maybe three steps when I looked up and saw two or three steps ahead of me a blue-collar worker walking toward me holding upright a perfectly sharpened pencil with a full eraser head. For me. He didn't say a word, I took the holy object and said, exclaimed, "Thank you!" and we each kept walking in opposite directions. Don't know who he was, how he came to proffer the exquisite possession to me, never saw him again, but I can see that man and that epitome of the writing instrument craft and the street I was walking on, and the exact spot where this hand off took place as clear as day forty years later. It was my first visitation by the Divine.

Lawyers rushing to court are the instantiation of anxiety, I was today, the more so because I was rushing to parts unknown or very unfamiliar, the Civil Courthouse. I am as at home in the civil law as a fish is in riding a bicycle. I only take a civil case when an existing client works on me and works on me and works on me until he wears me down. I had spent hours and hours AND hours preparing and rehearsing for today's five-minute, so denominated, hearing. Could I introduce myself in five minutes?  Wtf was a five-minute hearing?  How could I make my many learned arguments in five minutes? I decided I would talk as fast as an auctioneer and shorthand my answers..."Motion to Strike, judge"..."Motion for Summary Judgment, judge," JudgmentonthepleadingsjudgeDONE! if Time were about to
                       silence
                                   my
                                         voice
                                                   FOREVER.

I walked into this Temple of Doom absorbed in thought and realized, "Oh yeah, two separate banks of elevators, one that goes from the 12th floor to the 30th floor, one that goes from 1-11. Eight was my destination. Realizing this annoying complexity in elevator transport I quickly glanced to my right, saw the infernal 12-30 bank, looked to my left, saw 1-8 and was now master of the case when a most congenial lawyer, who I had never met or seen before, who had noticed that I was lost in thought and lost in space-time, who saw me glance from the evil 12-30 bank and then walk toward salvation at 1-11, came up to me and said reassuringly, "If you want to go to eight, you take those." How did he know I was going to eight? That's where I was going but how did be know?  He knew, somehow, like the blue collar worker who knew I needed a pencil. We got into the same elevator and made the smallest, briefest of talk but he had a preternatural calm and good nature about him, he smiled and I could tell that he smiled frequently, it came naturally to him, he was a happy, nice man, and you can wander for hours in courthouses and not see a happy, nice man. It was a little thing, it was a small gesture but it was a solicitous, courteous, small gesture by a perceptive, good man. I was impressed and before I left the elevator I put my file under one arm and retrieved my wallet with the other in order to give him my business card. I fumbled hurriedly and the business cards stuck together and I ended up giving him two. "If I can ever do anything for you, call me," I said as I got off and the doors closed. He did not have a chance to give me his business card, I did not know his name and thought I had lost him forever as I had the blue collar worker in college two score years ago. But my email address is on my business card and this evening he sent me an email, "It was nice to meet you today" was the subject heading. "Sorry we did not have more time to chat before you left the elevator. I trust your hearing went well."
Signed, Aaron W. Tandy.

From now on, when my clients work on me to take their civil cases, I have the perfect out. Call Aaron Tandy.

Sunday, September 20, 2015

No new reading material in several weeks so I have turned to what I have. The Lion and the Fox, The Rise and Fall, the KJV bible and finally Dickens, yet again, A Tale of Two Cities, started but not finished and, in the last two or three days, David Copperfield. Again.

David Copperfield. It is Dicken' best work, I am sure of it. It was his own favorite. All of his superb




writing is there and at its peak. His literary techniques, sharp and brilliant both, the humor unexcelled. It is a complex work, the characters, drawn better than in other of his oeuvre, enter, retire, reenter as if he is Bach composing a fugue. Dickens weakness, his character development of women, is also present but Betsey Trotwood in particular and Mrs. Pegotty, are fully drawn. His characters. My, how many unforgettable ones here. Miss Trotwood, Pegotty, Mr. Micawber, even Mr. Dick and biased though I am by proximity, I can think at present of no more better drawn character in all of Dickens than Uriah Heep. Dickens was a genius and in David Copperfield his genius was most acute.


"Janet! Donkies!" At the end of his rope, David walks all the way to escape the Murdstones, to find his long lost Aunt.


Miss Trotwood, with David cowering behind her and Mr. Dick standing, gives Edward and Jane Murdstone a going over, dismisses them and takes David as her (and Mr. Dick's) charge.

David agrees to supper with Uriah and Mrs. Heep, who double-team David and get him to say too much when Mr. Micawber pays an unexpected and inopportune visit.


Uriah maneuvering, buttonholing Copperfield in the corner, pressing down his thumb and...and about to destroy Mr. Wickfield, foreground, and force his daughter, Agnes, to marry him.


The incomparable David Copperfield. Dickens at his height. 
Man hug and fist bump to the Oxford, Mississippi Police Department for this tweet last night:

If you spot this person in Oxford give us a call. Could also be wearing houndstooth.


That is Harvey Updyke (former cop, actually), the notorious Alabama tree poisoner. Oxford P.D. went on to tweet:


If this is the first time seeing our Twitter account we like to keep things personable & informal on here along with police related info.



Well done, good policy, good public relations. Last year the Madison, Wisconsin Police Department played along good-naturedly with the great @fauxpelini in a hilarious twitter exchange.


So I have a theory. On this factual foundation of sand I have erected this impressive theoretical edifice:
Campus police departments are more laid back than normal police departments.
Sounds like a reasonable theory that should be borne out by the facts, no? Campus p.d.'s understand their constituency, understand that young people are going to be a little crazy...Okay, a lot crazy, a little anti-establishment, anti-authority. My theory would go on to predict that campus p.d.'s are going to be a little lenient, like, last year @fauxpelini tweeted a hazy reference to the haze of marijuana smoke in the stands at Wisconsin's stadium. My theory would not expect Madison P.D. to go into the stadium en masse and arrest 1,000 kids for smoking marijuana...Okay, 20,000. My theory would not expect that. 
Normal police departments, especially under the broken windows theory of policing, look for any excuse to make contact with citizens, thence to pat them down and get weapons and dangerous drugs off the street, check for warrants and get a dangerous guy off the streets, a guy more dangerous than one just smoking weed, squatting, driving with bald tires,...selling loose cigarettes.
However, there is danger in any police-citizen contact. Know the encounter that results in more dead officers than any other? Traffic stops. 
Danger to civil liberties, too. Practicing homosexuality used to be a crime in America, not too long ago, either. Cop's job is to enforce the law! Arrest practicing Gay people! That's what the New York Police Department did in 1969 at the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village. Led to a riot. Birthed the Gay civil rights movement. Gay people were sick and tired of being harassed and busted for being Gay and had enough. But it was against the law, what were the cops to do? Ignore the law, don't enforce it. My God, if the adultery laws were enforced I'd be a fucking career criminal. 
The broken windows theory of policing works, there is no doubt about that, it is credited with the huge drop that has occurred in more serious crime in our cities, it has improved the quality of life in the poorest, most disadvantaged, i.e. Black areas. And it also led to Eric Garner's death for selling loose cigarettes. Black people have long been tired of being harassed and busted for things that white people never would be. Think I would ever be arrested for selling loose cigarettes? I didn't even know that was a frigging crime! (Ignorance of the law is not a legal excuse.) A friend of mine one time was smoking a joint with another guy at an outdoor restaurant on Miami Beach's chi-chi Ocean Drive. The other guy saw a female police officer coming down the sidewalk and said "Oh, shit!" As the officer got parallel to them my friend said within her hearing, "It's cool, it's cool." The officer replied sternly, "No, it is NOT cool" and told them to get rid of it. Didn't arrest them. (They were white.) Any chance of that happening in a black neighborhood? Any chance? None.

There's another thing. When you arrest, you are creating a criminal. An arrest record stays with a person forever. First time ever, ever, ever offenders are treated more leniently than those who have been been arrested previously, even if not convicted, even if the arrest is for nonsense, even just once. A guy who is arrested three or four or five times even for broken windows offenses is going to be looking at increased punishment, let's say just probation, then when he next has an encounter with a police officer for a broken windows offense he gets two for the price of one, one for the new sale of loose cigarettes, one for a violation of probation. The fact of an arrest, regardless of the merits, regardless of seriousness, violates your probation. You also can, and will be kept in custody with no bond on the probation violation, just as if you committed the non-bondable offense of first degree murder. And, in a lot of jurisdictions, once your, now two, broken windows cases are resolved you're going to be sentenced to jail. Violating probation does that to you.

Let's say you're not on probation, you're out on the streets but have a pending case for selling loose cigarettes. What happens when a police officer pulls you over for going 65 mph in a 55 zone? "License and registration." What does he do with your license and registration? He goes back to his car and runs your name to see what your driving and criminal record is, see if you have any outstanding warrants. If you didn't show up in court one time, you have a warrant for your arrest. The officer will arrest you right there. If you violated probation, you have a warrant for your arrest. Ditto. If all your cases are done and over but you have been arrested before, chances of you getting off with a warning, without a ticket? Good luck with that. You keep popping a guy for bald tires or smoking reefer or selling loose cigarettes you are creating the conditions for him to be arrested again. You are in a meaningful sense, creating crime.

Now put the preceding paragraph in this context: 40% of Black males between ages 18-35 have been arrested at least once in their lives. Assume, as I do, that broken windows policing is not discriminatory in theory. By targeting poor, disadvantaged, crime-ridden, i.e. Black, neighborhoods for broken windows policing we are creating Black criminals and creating Black crime. The practice of broken windows policing is discriminatory.
Can the successful results and laudable theory of broken windows policing be sustained with a practice less discriminatory, with less collateral damage, can its aggressiveness be moderated a little in some reasonable way by departments and officers who "know their constituencies" in Black neighborhoods as, my theory holds, p.d.'s on mostly white college campuses do, who ignore the law in some instances, like selling loose cigarettes, who do not enforce every goddamned statute on the books, like the adultery statute (Please?), who are more mindful of the tension between civil liberties and robotic arrests, more concerned by police-citizen contact escalating into violence and death, more aware of the cycle of crime and criminal creation, a little more concerned with having better police-community relations? I think so; I don't know, but I think so.
Lolol. Scholarly tackle football is so much fun because of plays like this one. The situation is that Old Miss in white has this one play to make one yard or else they have to kick the football, giving possession to  Ala Bahma.

The first still shows the classroom right before the experiment begins. In that line of five scholars in white shirts bent over the waist is one, Big Butt. Big Butt has the ball. His task is to pass the ball between his legs backward to the passer, standing upright on the 30-yard line. Passer will then pass the ball to one of the two white-shirted guys at the top of the photo to get the dreamed for one yard and avoid the holocaust of kicking the ball to Ala Bahma. That's the plan for this experiment. It's a bit of a complicated experiment to achieve one yard and fraught with risk, but that's the plan.
Right from the beginning the experiment hits the air pump. Ole Big Butt passed the ball too high and here Passer is able only to get a hand on it and tip it in the air. Danger lurks.

Danger Cometh. The ball is still in the air, passer waiting for it to drop into his hands, and that Ala Bahma guy just inside the 30-yard line is bearing down on passer with malice aforethought. He outweighs passer by about 100 lbs.


The ball comes down into Passer's hands and Danger is now within two yards and closing. This makes Passer sad.


Squish. Passer is lifted off his feets by Danger. He throws the ball, a brownish blur. At this point the experiment has a low chance of success. At this point Passer's life has a low chance of success.


Defenseless, Passer's intended recipient awaits the ball's drop as two Ala Bahamians prepare to squish. 


Intended Recipient disappears under red #29's assault as the ball bobs in the air.


Holy Canoli. The ball bobs in the air still but now it looks like it may fall into the hands of another white shirt, looks like #8.


It do. 


Touchdown Mississippi! Just like the professor drawed it up.

Ala Bahma Unhappy.

The University of Ole Mississippi beat Ala Bahma again Saturday night, second year the Ole's have done that, this year in the state of Ala Bahma. 

Saturday, September 19, 2015

"Too much information."

That was what was up with ESPN. Websites try to cram as many linkable items as they can onto their web pages. It's information overload. How many times have you: Gone to your email intent on composing an email or looking for a specific email and got distracted by the inbox--spam, other emails? Gone to a search engine intent on looking up something and gotten distracted by something on the homepage or the search results or, "Oh, I think I'll check my Facebook first?" You cannot multi-task or even "task" unless you can negotiate your way past, over, or through these obstacles on the road to task completion. They are roadblocks. You have to keep focus, concentrate, more when the Internet should be alleviating that need; it should be easy, instead the Internet demands more concentration. Famously our attention spans have decreased. We lose focus, we cannot concentrate when we are getting hit by this barrage of sensory "input." It's sensory overload.

I still don't know why ESPN put the English soccer scores at the top, the very top, of the American college football scoreboard. "Duh, we have space, we have to put something there." Is that how dumb the thought process is? Or was it football-football, it's all the same. Is that how dumb the thought is? It was not scores, all scores are created equal, "Put some scores up there, this is a scoreboard." There were baseball games played today, they didn't put the baseball scores up at the top of the college football scoreboard. Whatever it is, it's pretty dumb. 

SwinEspn.

Why did you do this? You have never done this before. I am clearly on your college football scoreboard page and yet at the top you give me soccer scores. If I wanted soccer scores I would go to ESPNFC. I did not want soccer scores. Do you think you're God and it is your godly duty to make me sad? 
When God made Saturdays and deemed them proper days for football games in order that we may be happy He made that half of us unhappy who Lost.

Manchester City 1
West Ham United 2

The undersigned had a foreshadowing of this evil four days ago. An ill wind blew through the Etihad during the Juventus match and it blows still:

City's going to go into a funk now. Terrible losses like this do that. Whoever they play next in the EPL has a better chance of winning that match than they did before today.
     -September 15, 9:51 p.m. UTC post.

Chelsea 2
Arsenal 0

One of my best friends is an Arsenal fan. He loves the club, is always secretly optimistic and wrote me on the eve of the season that he thought the EPL title would be decided between "our" two clubs and he believed City would win out. I thought him mad but did not say that. Arsenal had won some preliminary match, perhaps the Commun...Yes! It was the Community Shield, they beat Swine Chelsea, Arsene Wenger's first victory over Jose Mourinho in...maybe forever. It was a big deal and got that bug off his back and all Arsenal followers were optimistic. Then the season started.

Newcastle United 1
Watford 2

The striped-prison shirts were dead last in the league before this match at St. James Park against the newly-promoted "Tigers." When I began following English soccer Newcastle were a top four club with Alan Shearer. A couple of years ago they were RELEGATED! They've gone through a slew of managers, have a new one this season, were sold and have been owned for some years by billionaire Mike Ashley who is as popular among the Toon as AIDS. They have tremendous fan support and St. James is one of the largest stadia in the kingdom. I do not know what the problems have been to cause this fall but they are not "have been," they are.

Both read the same bible and pray to the same God, and each invokes His aid against the other. The prayers of both could not be answered...The Almighty has His own purposes and has deemed it His purpose that this Saturday I should be unhappy.

Red Letter Day.


Saturdays were made by God so that people would be happy. In Britain that's why short-pants football games are scheduled Saturdays, in America college tackle football games, in China struggle sessions maybe I just made that up.

So this is Saturday and where I am this is America and I am American and there are teams of scholars playing tackle football all over the place. But I am not happy. :( See? I am not happy because Penn State plays Rutgers today. My unhappiness is nested, there is unhappiness within unhappiness and it is unhappiness all the way down.

I am unhappy first that Penn State still exists. Second, that it is still allowed to play tackle football, third that other schools deign to play Penn State and fourth that it is Rutgers who Penn State plays. They ought to call this the Criminal Cup and the trophy ought be an electric chair.

Ladies, gentlemen, friends, enemies, "Rutgers, the state university of New Jersey" is a pustule on the anus of mankind. There is no reason for God ever to have created Rutgers or the state of New Jersey for that matter, a smelly, pestilential, corrupt place with an obese man running for president. New Jersey's contribution to the Great Republic has been fumes. God, in his wisdom having created New Jersey, it is well that he put Rutgers there. Rutgers however is an embarrassment even to New Jersey as Penn State is even to Pennsylvania. Penn State, the scene of the most atrocious scandal ever to disgrace an American university, half a century in duration, is well-paired by the Creator this day with "Ruptures" for Ruptures scents the encounter, indeed all of American higher education with its own distinctive malodor.

There are, if somebody else hasn't been added to the list in the last few hours, eight scholars on the Rutgers tackle football team unavailable for duty this day. To be sure, scholar athletes are held, or are said to be held, to a higher standard of conduct than other students and it may well be that non-athlete Rutgers students would still be in good standing with the university if they had accumulated the same demerits viz, home invasion robbery, armed robbery, burglary, "slamming a woman against a concrete floor" as have these eight "Scarlet Knights," it may well be that at Rutgers or Penn State non-athlete scholars committing the same transgressions would be given extra credit for work outside the classroom or had their grades improved for going "the extra mile" or "The Second Mile" but however that may be the Rutgers football team is disadvantaged with these eight unavailable for duty to God, country, state, and university and wearing prison-striped instead of scarlet uniforms.

Of course, in every black cloud there is the silver lining, for every demerit we can find silvery merit, these are "teachable moments," after all, this is a university at the end of the day, and it speaks well for Rutgers that at the end of the recent day when five of the players were made to exchange scarlet uniforms for prison-stripes director of university athletics "Julie" "Hermann" delivered a silvery address to the (remainder of the) football team commending them for so well-representing dear old Rutgers as does Julie her ownself who found her place at dear old after being women's volleyball coach at Tennessee where her entire team accused her of teaching by fear, humiliation and emotional abuse, encouraging them by teaching that they were "whores, alcoholics, and learning disabled."

Julie has the back of Professor Kyle Flood, who leads football instruction at Rutgers but won't be leading it today or for the following two Saturdays on accounta Kyle has been suspended his own self for having the back of one of his players by contacting a fellow professor to get the child's grade changed so he could continue his Saturday studies. Kyle got the grade changed and the child continued with Saturdays--until he was one of those arrested in Operation Scarlet Pimpernel. Bet Kyle wishes he hadn't had that particular child's back, hoo-doggie.

Woe unto the world because of offenses; for it must needs be that offenses come, but woe to that man by whom the offense cometh.

God in his wisdom has seen fit to pair these two outstanding exemplars of American higher education today and also to join them with like-minded institutions in a group known as the Big 10 Conference. Which has twelve members. :o They join, et al, Ohio State University whose own star scholar athlete tweeted the excellent point that it was ludicrous for such as he to have to attend classes at all as everyone done knowed hisn major and all hisn teammates' majors was tackle football.

The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.

Friday, September 18, 2015

The Lone Changer.


President Obama has nominated Acting Under Secretary of the Army Eric Fanning to be Secretary of the Army. That would seem to be an unremarkable appointment, just move the under up, but it is worthy of remark because Mr. Fanning is openly gay and of course will be the first such to ever head a branch of the U.S. military. Until 2011 openly gay/lesbian people could not serve at all in the military, the "Don't ask, don't tell" policy prohibited it. Now they may, and will serve "under" an openly gay man. Until being named the Under Secretary Fanning was Chief of Staff to the Secretary of Defense and before that was Under Secretary of the Air Force. The appointment is subject to confirmation by the Senate.

In his second term President Obama has made a number of decisions on issues that are similar to the Fanning appointment it seems to me: immigration, trade, Cuba, Iran, Denali, are others that immediately come to mind. On each, big and small, substantive and symbolic, Obama has affected Change and on each he has done it Alone, using his chief executive power and bypassing as much as he can the national legislature.

Congress drove Obama to distraction in his first term. No sooner was Obamacare passed than the Democrats got waxed in the mid-term elections. The Demos have gotten waxed ever since and the Tea Party Republicans have tried every which way ever since the 2010 elections to undo what the 2008 Congress did in passing Obamacare. Then they shut down the frigging government. Obama couldn't get anything done except smoke cigarettes with John Boehner on the White House balcony. Second term, Obama ain't playin'.

Immigration, he just did it, signed an executive order, all Congress could do was bitch, which they did, which they continue to do. Renaming Mt. McKinley: done, stroke of the pen. Ohioans, fuck 'em.

The Trans-Pacific...whatever it's called, the trade deal, trade deals always have been negotiated at the executive level but Congress has the power to ratify. TPP was negotiated in secret! That was how Obama screwed Congress on that one. Elizabeth Warren, Bernie Sanders, et al went nuts, Obama went nuts back on them. Obama (the executive branch) negotiated that thing, one complex mother too, negotiated it (or significant parts) in secret, it was a zillion pages long (it was long) and complex)), and under fast-track authority Congress had like 15 minutes to vote on it (it was short). Then... I forget what happened to it. Canada balked over cows or something, the Japanese balked over intellectual property, people were balking. That thing will get done. See Iran. Obama gets a lot done out of public purview.

Cuba, too; restored diplomatic relations in an executive decision after negotiations with President Raul Castro, "Congress, you wanna hold up an ambassador's appointment, knock yourselves out, the empty embassy in Havana will be there waiting." Obama needs Congress to lift the embargo against Cuba, which they will not do, but I read just today that he's taking other executive action to undermine the embargo, easing this restriction, ending that one, doing what he can as president while Congress holds its breath until its face turns red. "Congress, you can turn purple, you can pass out and DIE, don't let me stop you."

The Iran deal was a gleam in the president's eye going back to his first term, if memory serves. Sure seems the negotiations lasted that long. It's a treaty, JCPOA is a treaty. But the president negotiated it as a United Nations resolution. Treaties have to be approved by the Senate, it's right there in the whatcha call Constitution. U.N. resolutions don't. Oh! Congress, gotcha again! Whether you're for or against it (and I have been both :( ), that was a brilliant tactical move. The thing stood no chance in the Senate as a treaty. Now, the Senate did get some say over JCPOA, my recollection, maybe faulty, is that Obama negotiated that with the Senate, but the Senate did not get the up or down vote they would have had, and hearings, hearing after hearing after... in voting on a treaty, they got, however they got it, only a "down" vote--that was subject to being overridden by a presidential veto. Opposing senators had to get 60 votes against to have practical say. And, before even the twittersphere could bash it, the P5+1+EU+Iran+IAEA+...Everybody was involved in those negotiations except Israel...submitted it lickedy-splitsky to the UN for ratification. Which was done. "Congress, looky here: You don't get an up or down vote only a down, sorry, go hold your breath, I get to veto any down vote, you don't have 60 votes to override my veto? jeez, SUCKS to be you, and oh, by the way, if you had gotten those 60 votes JCPOA went into effect anyway as UNSCR 2231, it just wouldn't have had U.S. approval so basically I win you lose now you get a big bruise."

Obama has not lost energy, he has not lost interest and he has not lost time. In his second term, he is acting. He is doing what he can do as chief executive without involving Congress and he is showing that he can do a lot. Alone.

Daffy the Commando.

Man, only eight years after the end of WWII and we were making cartoons about Hitler for kids! A lot of kids watching that cartoon in 1953 would have lost fathers and brothers fighting Hitler. Any cartoons for kids about Osama bin Laden? I don't think so. Any cartoons about the Japanese in WWII? I think so. I can't recall one in specific but I think so.

It shows amazing confidence and resilience to be able to make a cartoon for kids about Hitler only eight years after the end of the war. Americans do not have that confidence fourteen years after 9/11. Nor four years after the assassination of OBL. We have not been resilient. We are tentative, defensive, unsure. The war with Hitler ended in unconditional surrender. The war with Islam did not end with OBL's killing, nor with the Afghanistan and Iraq wars. It continues to this day. Americans are unsure even who this current war is with, even if it's a war. It is not with Islam according to everybody who counts. Psychologically it's as if World War II continued even after Hitler committed suicide and Germany was overrun.

Tentative, defensive, unsure. Quite a difference from the confidence, resilience and offense-mindedness of the generation of World War II and immediately thereafter. 1953, amazing. The soul of America was changed by 9/11. It was not changed by World War II. That is amazing.
Hits hit!
Hits himself! In a cartoon in 1953!
Daffy dive-bombing a Nuremberg rally.

That little character is called "Schultz," like the Hogan's Heroes character. I guess this was the origin of the name. I wonder why "Schultz" caught on.

Wow, look at this one! "Daffy the Commando" from 1953.

Oooh, Ala Bahma! He-he-he-he.

"Ala Bahma," he-he-he-he. This is not going to end well for Ala Bahma is my bet.

"Of course you realize this means war."