Somebody call the Coen brothers STAT!!!

One day, when I become an English teacher, I will prove to my students that truth is infinitely stranger, more interesting, and more idiotic than fiction by pointing them to the Sons of Dixie killing in Bogalusa, Louisiana. That the KKK can even exist as a sort of hobbyist group in this country is amazing. But when stupidity is coupled with comedy, well, it’s time to make a movie.

First, there is the welcome sign to Bogalusa. Okay, so, no one noticed the artfully arranged pine tree stamen and cones? Who paid this artist? Get your money back Bogalusa!

Then there is poor, bigoted, Cynthia Lynch posing for a mug shot at the Oklahoma Department of Corrections in her Looney Tunes sweatshirt. Surely this sartorial choice was a sign of things to come? Who goes out to commit a crime wearing Tweety Bird on her chest?

Two interviews with one black and one white ‘Man on the Street’ asked if they were aware that a significant branch of the KKK called B-ville home. These were the responses:

“That’s a tragedy . . . nobody should be prejudiced” and “I figured that in the 70s or 80s maybe they was serious about it, but, yeah, that does surprise the hell outta me.”

There was something about their astonished faces that suggested these men were going to be shaking their heads and saying “dang” for the rest of the day. And who can blame them? They might not know much, but they do know enough not to be hatin’.

Now I’m certain that if at the age of ten I were covered in blood and needed to get the stains out, I might ask a convenience store clerk for advice like the Sons of Dixie did, thus tipping off the authorities. Except, any adult, and certainly any woman can tell you: blood does not ever come out of cotton, no matter what the detergent companies say. Not really. You can soak, bleach, scrub, but in truth the only thing that’ll make blood go away is fire.

On the one hand, I’m really grateful criminal, mental defectives populate organizations like the KKK. This pretty much ensures that they will self-destruct with regularity, often in a comical way. On the other hand, they totally suck, and cost hard-working citizens a lot of money to monitor, apprehend, prosecute and house.

Soopr genius

There are some words in the English language that just shouldn’t be used.

A dear friend who teaches mathematics at a prestigious university started his PhD there many years ago, until, as he puts it, “I found I no longer understood my topic.” They hired him anyway because he is undeniably brilliant and a great teacher.

For a while he drove around in a snappy car sporting the vanity plate “Genius.” Then one day he drove the car down an unbelievably icy road, ditched it firmly at a 45 degree angle such that his license plate was the first thing to view, and slipped and slid on foot all the way home. After waiting two days for the ice to melt enough so that the tow guy would even consider pulling the car out of the mud, they had to wait a further fifteen minutes while the tow guy got over a laughing fit. My friend decided it was time to ditch the tag too.

So, when I first encountered the Genius Bar at the Apple store, I was immediately filled with a certain amount of apprehension. Maybe it’s because I have been a tech myself, but whoever thought it was a good idea to stand a bunch of aloof, defensive geeks under giant letters spelling “GENIUS BAR” was an idiot. Really. Set the bar—haha—way out of the park why don’t you? When something goes wrong, the customer cannot help but be moved to make remarks like “What kind of genius are you? A STUPID genius?” This can’t be good for customer relations.

Tomorrow my daughter is taking her iTouch to the Genius Bar to be repaired. She left a yellow post-it on the table to remind herself of the appointment. “GENIUS, 3:35p.m.” As I sat eating my breakfast, Smokey, our Cat de Charge, came and sat at my elbow, watching the birds in the backyard and hoping for some leftover egg yolk. I disappointed him, however, so he stepped away all stiff-legged and annoyed, the Post-it stuck to his bottom reading “GENIUS.”

I hear you

I am the only person I know who can spend an entire day in a perfectly silent house. No music, no TV, no city noises. Just silence. A sort of silence that rings lightly in the ear, but also includes snuffling, meowing, claws clicking back and forth across linoleum, the squawks and cackles of hens calling to each other, and barking, both near and far. Sometimes, if the wind is right, there is the sound of cattle lowing, and during hunting season, there is gunfire modulated by the whispers of falling leaves. Earth's deep self.

Yes we can! HUZZAH!!!

"If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen; by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the very first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different; that their voice could be that difference.

It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled — Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of red states and blue states; we are, and always will be, the United States of America.

It's the answer that led those who have been told for so long by so many to be cynical, and fearful, and doubtful of what we can achieve to put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day.

It's been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America." [more] [video]

Barack Obama's victory speech, November 4, 2008

Communism leads to poverty, duh!

The communists took my grandmother’s farm. Before it was co-opted, it produced wine for sale, plus fruit, vegetables, and meat for the family and workers. The poor who wandered past got a meal and old clothes. The small wealth of sustenance was hard-won but shared.

It was a no-nonsense kind of life. The only nonsense was provided by my mother and her brother via their many shenanigans involving, pigs, horses, chickens, sheep and the occasional drunk goat. The only ones coming to harm in such amusements were the chief perpetrators themselves in the form of spankings from my grandmother. That is, until the communists came and took the farm.

Then all the animals were eaten, crops were pulled and the farm fell into disuse. No food, no jobs, no wine. Just land owned by ‘the people.’ Whoever said people can’t live on principle alone? Apparently communists can. Good thing too, since they weren’t interested in farming . . . .

So when people today say that Obama is a communist for wanting to spread the wealth, I have to wonder, do they know anything about communists apart from the propaganda itself?