OK. Now I'm mad.
Someone, somewhere, please — smuggle or otherwise spirit Gillian Gibbons out of Sudan.
It's ridiculous that this British teacher was accused of blasphemy over her second grade students' naming a Teddy bear Mohammad. It's even more ridiculous that she was sentenced to 15 days in jail for such a thing. It's crazy she could have been lashed 40 times, but it's downright ASININE that some militant Islam extremists are calling for her execution.
Give. Me. A. Break.
I'm sick to death of hearing about people who force us to tread lightly because we celebrate Christmas. Not a winter holiday. But Christmas. I'm saying it again because I can — Merry Christmas.
I'm sick to death of people squawking because there's no religous diversity in the — here it comes — Christmas season. Helllooo. It's a Christian holiday. Let's not make it something it isn't. Don't like it? Celebrate something else, but shut up about it. We don't go messing with Kwanzaa, Hanukkah or Ramadan; we respect your right to celebrate them. Accord us the same courtesy. It's bad enough we Christians are ruining it with all the commrecialism attached to it.
Now we have these miitant camel jockeys saying that Gillian Gibbons should be executed because she took Mohammad's name in vain. She didn't mean any disrespect. Her class named the Teddy bear after a boy in the class; just about every little towel head is named Mohammad. What's the difference?
So the gloves are coming off. Until the Islamic extremists shut up and crawl back under the rock they came out from, I have no regard for them. Until they back off Gillian Gibbons and apologize for being idiots, I am launching a full frontal attack on them.
Know how many Islamic extremists it takes to screw in a light bulb? None. They're perpetually in the dark because they have their heads up their backsides.
Know the difference between an Islamic extremist and a sack of manure? The sack.
What's the difference between an Islamic extremist and a Teddy bear, whatever its name may be? The bear has a higher IQ.
Here's a message to all you Islamic extermists out there. You know those 72 virgins you're expecting to get when you reach Paradise? They're GUYS!
Alternative response: They all have PMS!
Here's another message for all you towel-heads: Lighten up. Your Allah or whatever you call your God is the same as our God. And our God is merciful and forgiving. You could learn from that.
Oh yeah, and Merry Christmas, towel-heads!
Friday, November 30, 2007
Friday, November 16, 2007
Disappointed about Paris
I'm really disappointed.
Although I've said that I prefer not to acknowledge the vacuous Paris Hilton, a week or so ago I'd read where she finally found a cause that she could support.
It seemed so perfect. Just tailor made for someone who until now had no real purpose except maybe to serve as a good bad example, and that wasn't necessarily by design.
Paris Hilton was said to have taken up the cause of helping drunken elephants in northeastern India.
Now there's a match made in — well maybe not heaven, but it just seemed so right.
If there's anything Paris Hilton knows about it's being drunk. And needing a little guidance and support.
The last we heard about her is that she'd seen the error of her ways and was now going to devote herself to doing good things. She scheduled a do-good trip to Africa, but later it was cancelled. That was probably a good thing too. Africa has enough problems, they don't need her added to them.
For a long time the tabloids focused on Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears, for lack of something better to do, and we had no news of Paris until the Associated Press reported that she had heard about some elephants who habitually eat fermented fruit and go around drunker'n a sailor on shore leave, only bigger. She wanted to help.
It was a cause all her own. No one else was doing anything about it, and it was a chance for her to redeem herself.
Trouble is, it wasn't true. According to a news release from the venerable AP, "Lori Berk, a publicist for Hilton, said she never made any comments about helping drunken elephants in India."
I feel like I've just scored the six winning Powerball numbers, only to find out I had an outdated ticket. Paris still doesn't have a cause. Or a clue.
I'm just bummed about that.
Although I've said that I prefer not to acknowledge the vacuous Paris Hilton, a week or so ago I'd read where she finally found a cause that she could support.
It seemed so perfect. Just tailor made for someone who until now had no real purpose except maybe to serve as a good bad example, and that wasn't necessarily by design.
Paris Hilton was said to have taken up the cause of helping drunken elephants in northeastern India.
Now there's a match made in — well maybe not heaven, but it just seemed so right.
If there's anything Paris Hilton knows about it's being drunk. And needing a little guidance and support.
The last we heard about her is that she'd seen the error of her ways and was now going to devote herself to doing good things. She scheduled a do-good trip to Africa, but later it was cancelled. That was probably a good thing too. Africa has enough problems, they don't need her added to them.
For a long time the tabloids focused on Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears, for lack of something better to do, and we had no news of Paris until the Associated Press reported that she had heard about some elephants who habitually eat fermented fruit and go around drunker'n a sailor on shore leave, only bigger. She wanted to help.
It was a cause all her own. No one else was doing anything about it, and it was a chance for her to redeem herself.
Trouble is, it wasn't true. According to a news release from the venerable AP, "Lori Berk, a publicist for Hilton, said she never made any comments about helping drunken elephants in India."
I feel like I've just scored the six winning Powerball numbers, only to find out I had an outdated ticket. Paris still doesn't have a cause. Or a clue.
I'm just bummed about that.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Tracking a rambling mind
Today I'm going to let me mind ramble and see where it goes.
Do you ever wonder what children in China play with? Where do their parents get their toys?
First it was lead in the paint in an increasing number of toys maufactured in China, and now it's a substance on another toy that, when ingested, mimics a toxic drug. We're worried about finding Saddam Hussein's weapons of mass destruction, and right under our noses toys are capable of harming children.
Maybe that was Saddam's plan after all. Hide those WMDs really, really well.
And on another subject, my mind rambles to Thanksgiving. Whatever happened to it?
As soon as Halloween was over, grocery stores had replaced all the candy corn, buttercream pumpkins, and dinky little Milky Way bars with candy canes and marshmallow and chocolate Santas. We went straight from Halloween to Christmas, and we're ignoring Thanksgiving.
Well, not completely. There's still some mention out there about turkeys and cornbread vs. bread dressing, and overindulgence. But what happened to why we celebrate Thanksgiving and some reverence for the occasion? It's become a four-day holiday and an excuse to sit in front of the TV, pig out on leftovers and watch football games.
Maybe if there were an association with chocolate or some reason to shop other than for a turkey and cranberries, Thanksgiving wouldn't be left out.
If holidays were personified and had emotions, I bet Thanksgiving would be really ticked off. Like the middle child it would act out to get attention away from the firstborn, Halloween, and the youngest, Christmas. If Thanksgiving wanted to do something really, really mean to get some attention, it would retaliate somehow — like inventing green bean casserole.
That stuff has to be the ultimate in rude food. People take a perfectly good vegetable, dump some salty, cholesterol and fat laden cream of mushroom soup over it, then add some chemically based substance being passed off as fried onions on top of that, bake it and offer it up as a contribution to Thanksgiving dinner. That's got to be one of the nastiest things anyone could do. I once attended a potluck lunch where three different women brought green bean casserole and each one insisted hers was different and hers was better. Only a rebellious soul would pit three otherwise nice ladies against each other in such a vile fashion. Green bean casserole is capable of ruining friendships, dividing families and causing strokes if you eat enough of it, and who wants to?
We'd better be nicer to Thanksgiving and give it the credit it's due. Who knows what else will follow? Something vile perpetrated on broccoli? It's bad enough people dump cheese on it.
And while we're on the subject of unhappy holidays, a minister recently suggested that Halloween, once the evening prior to All Saints Day and a particularly religious holiday in its origins, has lost its original significance. It's about as religious as Christmas is getting to be, he said. Sometimes it's surprising to hear someone comment that government and civic organizations shouldn't concern themselves with Christmas and other religious observations. It's almost automatic to respond, "what's religion got to do with Christmas?" It's become a reason to buy stuff, to sell stuff, and for retail businesses to plan their revenue for the year around. It has more to do with talking snowmen and flying reindeer than with shepherds and wise men. Put up a decorated tree or a nativity scene in a public place and watch all the government-types clamor for separation of church and state.
But they all take the day off work that day. After all, it's a holiday. And they want to be home to see their kids unwrap all their toys. Made in China. Because they work cheap over there and keep the price of toys down.
And now I've rambled into a circle.
Do you ever wonder what children in China play with? Where do their parents get their toys?
First it was lead in the paint in an increasing number of toys maufactured in China, and now it's a substance on another toy that, when ingested, mimics a toxic drug. We're worried about finding Saddam Hussein's weapons of mass destruction, and right under our noses toys are capable of harming children.
Maybe that was Saddam's plan after all. Hide those WMDs really, really well.
And on another subject, my mind rambles to Thanksgiving. Whatever happened to it?
As soon as Halloween was over, grocery stores had replaced all the candy corn, buttercream pumpkins, and dinky little Milky Way bars with candy canes and marshmallow and chocolate Santas. We went straight from Halloween to Christmas, and we're ignoring Thanksgiving.
Well, not completely. There's still some mention out there about turkeys and cornbread vs. bread dressing, and overindulgence. But what happened to why we celebrate Thanksgiving and some reverence for the occasion? It's become a four-day holiday and an excuse to sit in front of the TV, pig out on leftovers and watch football games.
Maybe if there were an association with chocolate or some reason to shop other than for a turkey and cranberries, Thanksgiving wouldn't be left out.
If holidays were personified and had emotions, I bet Thanksgiving would be really ticked off. Like the middle child it would act out to get attention away from the firstborn, Halloween, and the youngest, Christmas. If Thanksgiving wanted to do something really, really mean to get some attention, it would retaliate somehow — like inventing green bean casserole.
That stuff has to be the ultimate in rude food. People take a perfectly good vegetable, dump some salty, cholesterol and fat laden cream of mushroom soup over it, then add some chemically based substance being passed off as fried onions on top of that, bake it and offer it up as a contribution to Thanksgiving dinner. That's got to be one of the nastiest things anyone could do. I once attended a potluck lunch where three different women brought green bean casserole and each one insisted hers was different and hers was better. Only a rebellious soul would pit three otherwise nice ladies against each other in such a vile fashion. Green bean casserole is capable of ruining friendships, dividing families and causing strokes if you eat enough of it, and who wants to?
We'd better be nicer to Thanksgiving and give it the credit it's due. Who knows what else will follow? Something vile perpetrated on broccoli? It's bad enough people dump cheese on it.
And while we're on the subject of unhappy holidays, a minister recently suggested that Halloween, once the evening prior to All Saints Day and a particularly religious holiday in its origins, has lost its original significance. It's about as religious as Christmas is getting to be, he said. Sometimes it's surprising to hear someone comment that government and civic organizations shouldn't concern themselves with Christmas and other religious observations. It's almost automatic to respond, "what's religion got to do with Christmas?" It's become a reason to buy stuff, to sell stuff, and for retail businesses to plan their revenue for the year around. It has more to do with talking snowmen and flying reindeer than with shepherds and wise men. Put up a decorated tree or a nativity scene in a public place and watch all the government-types clamor for separation of church and state.
But they all take the day off work that day. After all, it's a holiday. And they want to be home to see their kids unwrap all their toys. Made in China. Because they work cheap over there and keep the price of toys down.
And now I've rambled into a circle.
Friday, November 2, 2007
An extra hour
At long last, Daylight Saving Time ends. It keeps getting dragged out every year, and no one has been able to convince me that it has done anything more than make people reset their clocks and deprive us all of an hour's sleep in the summer.
The days get longer on their own. They don't really need any help from the government, which is where Daylight Saving Time originated. The same bunch that thought up the tax code. And $900 toilet seats.
This weekend the time will be back to normal. Employees who start work at 8 a.m. will actually start at that time and not what's really 7 a.m., but says on the clock that it's 8 a.m. because we're fiddling around with the natural order of things.
Can you tell I don't like Daylight Saving Time?
So now we have that hour back that we lost in the spring when we kicked up the clock. Think about what you can do with that extra hour.
Read a book. Or a magazine. A newspaper.
Write a blog. Gripe about a lack of time to do anything.
Stop and smell the roses. If they're no longer in bloom, stop and smell something. May I suggest the inside of a bakery.
Contemplate philosophical questions. Such as, if big box stores and large supermarkets have an in-store bakery, why can't we smell it? Isn't it a shame that there are children growing up out there who have never smelled a bakery?
Cuddle a cat. Better yet, adopt one or two and increase the cuddle opportunity beyond a lousy hour.
OK. Get a dog. What do I care? Find a pet something or other and snuggle with it. Good for the soul.
Make homemade soup. So much better-tasting than canned stuff.
Reset all the clocks you had to bump up last spring. I won't have to do that in my car. My car is my corner of the world, and in my world there's no Daylight Saving Time. Feels good to rebel sometimes, if only in small ways.
Find something else to rebel about. What's so great about the status quo anyway?
Who says you have to do anything with that hour? Aren't we over-structured enough as it is? Waste it. Fritter it away. Sleep late.
Savor it. For before you know it, it'll be time to go back to that ridiculous Daylight Saving Time and it'll be taken away from you. Then you won't have the time to gripe about it.
The days get longer on their own. They don't really need any help from the government, which is where Daylight Saving Time originated. The same bunch that thought up the tax code. And $900 toilet seats.
This weekend the time will be back to normal. Employees who start work at 8 a.m. will actually start at that time and not what's really 7 a.m., but says on the clock that it's 8 a.m. because we're fiddling around with the natural order of things.
Can you tell I don't like Daylight Saving Time?
So now we have that hour back that we lost in the spring when we kicked up the clock. Think about what you can do with that extra hour.
Read a book. Or a magazine. A newspaper.
Write a blog. Gripe about a lack of time to do anything.
Stop and smell the roses. If they're no longer in bloom, stop and smell something. May I suggest the inside of a bakery.
Contemplate philosophical questions. Such as, if big box stores and large supermarkets have an in-store bakery, why can't we smell it? Isn't it a shame that there are children growing up out there who have never smelled a bakery?
Cuddle a cat. Better yet, adopt one or two and increase the cuddle opportunity beyond a lousy hour.
OK. Get a dog. What do I care? Find a pet something or other and snuggle with it. Good for the soul.
Make homemade soup. So much better-tasting than canned stuff.
Reset all the clocks you had to bump up last spring. I won't have to do that in my car. My car is my corner of the world, and in my world there's no Daylight Saving Time. Feels good to rebel sometimes, if only in small ways.
Find something else to rebel about. What's so great about the status quo anyway?
Who says you have to do anything with that hour? Aren't we over-structured enough as it is? Waste it. Fritter it away. Sleep late.
Savor it. For before you know it, it'll be time to go back to that ridiculous Daylight Saving Time and it'll be taken away from you. Then you won't have the time to gripe about it.
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