BAN THE PRIUS!!IT"S A SAFETY HAZARD!

Just watched a news clip where a guy explained why Prius drivers seem to annoy other drivers.

It seems that the Prius driver has a dashboard display that tells him how much energy he is using, which motor (gas or electric) happens to be in use at the moment, and his rate of charge for his battery as he is coasting. This takes quite a bit of concentration in order to maximize fuel efficiency, and while this is going on, the driver has his eyes off the road.

So I have a message for all the legislators who want to ban the use of cell phones, etc. in cars because they cause drivers to be distracted. Here is a better idea. Ban the Prius. I never liked that car anyway.

Ah, Grandkiddies...

Ah, Grandkiddies... they are a blessing from the LORD.

As we spent some time hanging out with Jim & Stella last night, Beloved Rib helped Amelia and Samantha with their "artwork". She approximated my self-portrait, but with green marker. Samantha eagerly came to show it to me.

Me : "You colored my hair green!"

Samantha : "Grandpa, you don't have hair."

Can't swat them for being truthful, can I?

--------------

Downloaded a copy of Dr. Benjamin Carson's speech at the National Prayer Breakfast on Thursday 2/7/13. Proverbs 11:9, 11:12, 11:25, & II Chronicles 7:14

and just watched it again. Wow.

--------------

Went out to the greenhouse just after noon. Outside temperature about 28° but inside the thermometer was at 65°. Onion seedlings (now nearly pencil-thick) are green, and so are a few scattered lettuce plants. The 30 gallon black garbage can inside the greenhouse, full of water, has just a thin layer of ice on top; the one outside the greenhouse door contained a solid 30-gallon block of ice. Time to start planning the plantings.

The Tuesday night classes at Norton are all Γρίκ to me; but it is starting to make sense.

See ya narrow.

Neandering through History...

I think I know this guy. Where are his glasses? Who gave them the right to use a family picture?

Yo-Yo With Short String

Some time ago I posted about the need to moderate comments. Here is a prime example of what has to be filtered out. It was submitted to my post on the Speedex S-19 (which, by the way, I still intend to restore):

"Thank you for the auspicious writeup. It in reality used to be a leisure account it. Glance complicated to far delivered agreeable from you! However, how could we keep in touch? Look into my weblog :: Forex Trading Demo"(I removed the link)

I suspect someone composed that and then ran it through a web-based (maybe Google?) translator. It was definitely not from a native English speaker. It is the second such attempt to attach a comment to that post.

Oh, well; I cast thee into the Bottomless Bit Bucket, O vile spammy entrapper.

Who's Peeking?

Just fooling around with the Google-y tools for bloggers and looked at the Stats page :

That is a screenshot of where the viewers are from. Hong Kong I can understand. Iran and the UAE? Wonder what it was that I said that aroused their interest. Is Paranoia an island in the South Pacific? Inconceivable! (and I'm not Sicilian).

Almost Funny

I just came across a Slashdot article that mentioned a large increase in the use of coal as power-generation fuel in China. This was attributed to the fact that the price of coal has declined significantly in the past few years due to the rise in "green" technologies in Western countries. Thus, while businesses in the West are spending vast sums to reduce CO2 emissions by going with solar and wind power generation packages, the Chinese are profiting from the surplus of coal to run their factories at a lower cost.

I suppose the next logical step for the Climate Change Brigades will be proposing legislation to make coal mining illegal in order to drive up the price and force the Chinese into compliance. It should make for an interesting string-pushing contest.

Liberalism = Mental Illness

Liberalism has been described as a form of mental illness (Lyle H, Rossiter, Jr., MD, The Liberal Mind : The Psychological causes of Political Madness, Free World Books LLC, St. Charles IL, 2006). [n.b. There are other books out with similar titles and conclusions, but to mention them here would immediately cause manifestation of psychotic symptoms in people whom I wish to cause to think rationally.]

One of the hallmarks of the modern liberal movement has been the concept of political correctness, that is,

1. Of, relating to, or supporting broad social, political, and educational change, especially to redress historical injustices in matters such as race, class, gender, and sexual orientation.
2. Being or perceived as being overconcerned with such change, often to the exclusion of other matters.

(Christine Ammer, The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms, Houghton Miflin Company, NY, 1997)

In attempting to redress perceived injustices, it is argued by those subscribing to the concept that censorship is good if it is controlled by people who have a more righteous mindset (i.e, similar thinking liberals).

Enter the selective use of certain words. At this point it is appropriate to postulate a null hypothesis that God did not confuse the languages at Babel to try to prevent political correctness. I welcome any and all tests which might tend to cause that null hypothesis to be rejected at, say, a confidence level of 10%. In any event, the PC (politically correct) crowd has moved with great success to take out of literature those things which they deem offensive; they specialize in tare removal (viz. Matthew 13: 24-30). That this is a good thing is possibly linked to the belief that people with sensitivity to gluten won't miss the wheat anyway.

Here we have poor Huckleberry Finn on the cutting room floor (New edition of 'Huckleberry Finn' to lose the N-word) where the term that Huck uses throughout the story to describe his friend Jim is converted to a form that is less offensive to Certain People.

Language is a means of transporting thoughts from one person's mind to the mind of another. It may be through the use of words; the term has also been logically extended to drawings (the alphabet is a type of abstract art), gestures ("body language"), actions (kisses and punches come to mind), or smells (some people are deliberately raunchy). What is most important, however, appears to be context. Pushing a person into the path of a car has a completely different meaning from pushing a person out of the path of a car -- both actions are communicating a thought by pushing, but the context makes the message.

So I would ask, what is the difference between the term that Mark Twain placed in Huck Finn's conversation, and the use of "n-word", "n*****", or some other euphemism, as used by good liberals, if the intended meaning is the same? For that matter, as a descendant of Slavs, I should be able to claim that the term "slave" needs to be banned, since it is a derogatory word that is derived from the language of my ancestors, and besides, sláva roughly translates as "glory" (moc a sláva = power and glory, or, sláva Kristu veliká = glory to Christ the great).

Further, the word "slave", which is to be used instead of "n-word" in this new PC re-write of Twain's classic is quite imprecise. The classic Latin term servus, or "slave" is the origin of our English word "servant", but servitude is broken down into both voluntary and involuntary servitude. The latter is what most people mean when they say "slavery". However, voluntary slavery -- indentured servitude -- was the means by which a substantial number of Europeans were brought to America. Thus, to be precise, if Huck's companion is to be called Slave Jim, he should really be retitled Involuntary Slave Jim to differentiate him from some immigrant Irishman of the time who would properly be called Voluntary Slave Jim.

There is another consequence to this whole flapdoodle. Let us say that another generation passes, indoctrinated in the new PC ignorance. The only people who use the "n-word" are people privileged by birth and skin color to do so. Students reading history will have the impression that the involuntary servitude of people of African descent was really not such a bad thing after all, since, based on rewritten PC literature, the slave owners politely called their slaves "Slave ***", and whenever they see the "n-word" used in a historical context, it will have been laundered to mean that the person so tagged was viewed as a fraternal comrade. So much for the corruption of history.

Indeed, liberalism is a mental illness.

All I Want for Christmas is a Kevlar Vest…

How come so many people want to shoot me? Am I not the most lovable guy known to those who have met me?

I was warned that in the data collection phase, there had been some incidents in Newbury that warranted sending in a new face. For about two months I traversed that township doing the review, visiting every home (almost like Santa Claus, but no presents, and I stayed far from the chimneys). Everyone I met was either friendly or neutral, with the exception of one fellow last week who firmly insisted that I had to leave his property (he was having a war with Zoning, and anything that looked like Official Business was unwelcome). That I could live with -- the aerial photos are good enough that you do NOT want to be sunbathing when the plane flies over!

Yesterday I finished Newbury. Today I started in on the south side of Bainbridge. Things were going smoothly. I pulled into one driveway on Pettibone Road, where the sign on the garage said, "If you can read this, you are in range." I've seen plenty of those. Most of the people who post that sign are friendly as long as you knock on the door. I had a pleasant chat with the lady who answered the door -- I had to get out because her house had a deck on the back that was not on the tax card sketch -- and then drove to the next driveway.

It was one of those houses like any other house. Piece of cake. There were, however, some strange signs posted on the house. Nothing threatening, but sort of nutty. I didn't need to leave the car. I jotted a few notes on the tax card, turned around, and drove to the next house.

I was about a half mile away, maybe a half hour later, when my phone rang. It was Nedra, at the office, abrupt and hurried, "When you get to such-and-such address on Pettibone Road, do not pull into the driveway."

"I've already been there."

She sounded worried. "Don't go back, not even to turn around or do any paperwork."

"I don't plan to go back. I don't need to go back."

"The owner called and said you were trespassing on his property. He said that if you pulled into his driveway again, he would shoot you."

"I didn't even see him. All I did was pull into the driveway, take some notes, turn around, and leave." (My practice is to get out and introduce myself if anyone appears at a window or door).

"Well, don't go back. He obviously saw the signs on the car, because he knew where to call."

An hour or so later I decided to drive to McDonalds for a cup of coffee. As I passed his house, the man was at the mailbox getting his mail. He gave me a strange look as I went by. Must have left his gun at the house.

Somehow guys like that worry me a little. The fellow in Parkman who tried to chase me off his neighbor's property, threatened to call the Sheriff, and told the Sheriff's dispatcher that he should have shot me, did not seem like a real threat. He was loud and visible, and obviously his threat was in the past tense -- "I should have…". Same thing for the old farmer in Huntsburg; it came out in the course of conversation, and I took it as a joke. Somebody who would hide inside a house threatening future action is a different flavor fruitcake.

I just hope nobody else with a black car pulls into his driveway to turn around.

Maybe I need a light bar to make the car more distinct. Low profile amber lights. That would be fun. As it is, people hit their brakes when they see me sitting in a driveway.

Come to think of it, some of the Sheriff's cruisers, like the one that pulled up behind me yesterday as I sat on the roadside shuffling paper (flashers ON!) and turned on his lights before he saw the side of the car, are small and look similar to my car -- but we do have different color signage (they have gold, I have red, white, and blue) on the sides. (Bainbridge police cruisers are bigger and have white signage).

And I think that Mr. Hospitality can expect a visit from one of those black cars sometime soon. if he hasn't had one already.

***FOOTNOTE***
I wrote this last Friday, and delayed publishing it because I was uncertain what follow-up actions had been taken. I've been told a police report was filed, so its a public record now. I've also been told that the incident report shows the irate caller had a limited vocabulary but no speech impediment with respect to the "ph" sound. Anyway, the pen is mightier than the sword, and I carry a 0.7 mm semi-automatic pencil …

Over or Under?

I found this press release while exercising my rights as a capitalist:

How Does America Roll?

You can even voice your opinion. And I have marked iCal so that January 27th is a recurring holiday.

Gittin' the Runs

As 2009 ran out its string and 2010 crawled out of its crevice, Joonyah and I shot the breeze, lamenting the trampling of the Constitution by the current Congress. We again tossed around the question of who might represent OH-13; that is, who might be in the running to raise the moral and intellectual quality of the occupant of that seat.

We did a little exploratory work. Visiting the sites of all four Boards of Elections in OH-13 (Cuyahoga, Lorain, Medina, and Summit) revealed that no candidates had filed for 2010 yet. That is OK; the deadline for filing for the May 4, 2010 party primaries is February 18, 2010. For independent candidates, the filing deadline is May 3, 2010 (because independents don't have a primary).

Looking at the FEC requirements, an individual is not considered a candidate (even if he has filed the petition and is on the primary ballot) until he (or [a] person[s] authorized by the individual) has[ve] raised of spent more than $5000 for the campaign. There is a provision for voluntary registration with the FEC even if the $5000 threshold has not been attained, but the possibility exists (although highly unlikely) that a candidate could be elected to a Federal office without tripping the requirements. Posting the information we have uncovered on this blog, because no formal efforts have been made toward candidacy to date, is a sort of grey area that may or may not fall under 11 CFR 100.94 & 100.155.

The Ohio Administrative Code, (111-1) states, "The rules set forth in Chapters 111-1 to 111-6 of the Administrative Code shall apply to the nomination or election of candidates or support for or opposition to ballot issues in state and local elections. Nothing in these rules shall be construed as limiting or regulating federal elections, and those committees, parties, candidates, or funds when they participate in such federal elections." I would assume from that statement that only FEC requirements would apply (and as with any such assumption, I could be wrong).

If I were to run, would it be as a party candidate? Yes, for two reasons. Firstly, I have been republican in my leanings my entire life. A republican form of government was to be guaranteed to all the States under the Constitution, and a respect for the Rule of Law is essential to the maintenance of individual liberty. While other forms of government may extend individual rights, no other form of government protects individual rights.

Secondly, the regulations for access to US Representative candidacy in Ohio state that a major party candidate needs 50 signatures to have access to the ballot, a minor party candidate needs 25 signatures, but a non-party candidate needs signatures totaling 1% of the number of votes cast in the district in the last general election for governor. Looking at the stats for the 13th District, there were 297,680 votes cast for Representative, and assuming that about the same number voted for governor, the minimum number of signatures required for an Independent candidate to access the ballot in OH-13 would be about 3,000. In Norton 1-B there are just over 100 registered Republican voters; it would be possible to access the ballot as a Republican for the 13th District, covering parts of 4 counties, without even leaving my own precinct to gather petition signatures.

Of course, there is always the tantalizing challenge of running an illegal campaign (WhatifI) under the guise of Libertarianism.

"See, here is deep water, what doeth let me to jump in?" [calm down, that is a paraphrase]. When I last ran for Congress in the 13th District (2000), the situation was quite similar. Just before Thanksgiving of 1999, Mickey Axlebender Thirdson and I were bemoaning the fact that no Republican candidate had yet appeared to challenge the Democrat incumbent. He said that if I ran, he would manage my campaign. I stopped at the BOE, picked up a petition packet, and off we went. In about two weeks time, we had our signatures. With a total expenditure of about $300 (never even made it onto the FEC's radar screen), and with the Summit GOP endorsing my party primary opponent, I picked up 42% of the primary vote. In fact, a part of Stark County was in the District back then, and the SOS's stats show that I actually won -- quite handily -- in the Stark County portion of the District. [But, mind you, Stark County is vastly more conservative in its politics than Summit!!]. Thus, I have no doubt that my governmental views would resonate with a substantial portion of the electorate in the 2010 climate.

However, the run in 2000 did cause some discomfort for my Better Half, who was concerned over family privacy issues and the exposition created by a political campaign. Thus, my first concern is her consent. She has said that I can do whatever I want, and such a statement has dangerous undertones. I would prefer to have her support, indeed, I need her support. She willingly complied and followed me thousands of miles in previous attempts to joust at windmills, but in those days we were both a lot younger and more resilient.

Another concern is the support of my church. In 2000, I had the support and encouragement of most of the Elders I talked with, but my responsibilities at that time were quite different. I don't doubt that I would have the encouragement of the congregation, but the bigger question is whether or not it would be to their benefit.

Finally, there are the career considerations. I am on my way toward General Certification and new levels of accomplishment in my profession. Despite my age, I could be productive for another decade or more before senility rotted my cognitive functions. Becoming a US Representative would likely be a terminal career move.

Stay tuned, this is only the first day of 2010.

Chappy Chanukkah?

Well, I laughed.

Rooster Tales

Just a quickie before I have to settle down to some serious work.

About two weeks ago, I was verifiying the tax card on a house in Middlefield. As I pulled in the driveway, I could hear a rooster crowing on the adjacent property. Exiting the car, I was taking some notes (vacant house, looked like it was in less than average condition, etc) when I noticed a Barred Rock rooster sneak out of the bushes and begin to circle me. Head held low, it crept around to examine what it had found. Then, like a Jurrasic Park velociraptor, it charged.

As it neared my legs, I flipped down my clipboard and knocked it to the side. This was repeated about a half dozen times.

Finally, I decided that I had to get on with my work, took out the measuring wheel, and ran it on the ground in the direction of the rooster. He fled into the bushes and did not return. People he understood -- my guess is that he had lots of experience with them running in terror at his attacks. The wheel, however, was an unknown, may have represented a predator like a big cat, as it crept along the ground, and was something to avoid.

Two morals to this story. One : bullies only pick on people they are certain to intimidate. Two : roosters are far more effective for area defense than the average dog.

I would hate to face a rooster the size of the average dog.

Chicken Wars!

Saturday is a kick-back day sometimes. Today, I had nothing that was screaming "URGENT!" in my mind, so I was slow to get out of the rack. Thus it was that I was jolted from semi-slumber by the phone call at 6:15 AM from Cousin X ( the X is the chromosome identifier, and I won't go any further than that ) to inform me that she and her family were moving, and to give me their new address. It seems their prior landlord would not fix a problem with the apartment, so they had to find a new place. Also, would I please call her sister and let her know they had moved?

Frankly, I'm a bit flattered that I rank so high in her pecking order, even if it left me shaking my head over the timing of the call. Somehow, the incident led me to thinking about groceries ( at this point, I don't think we will take them any, since she didn't request help, and on top of that, I didn't ask since I was still not thinking too clearly due to my somnia ). If you don't like my invention of new words, too bad. Besides, she has my phone number. Anyhoo, the incident fired my neurons and soon I was off on a rabbit trail regarding food, and I eventually recalled an article in the local rag about a state-wide ballot issue the Humane Society is pushing to force farmers to supply bigger cages for their livestock.

The trail began with the phone call, leaped to the blog posts I was planning to do regarding the return on investment from rental properties, hopped over to my data gathering at the Geauga County Fairgrounds, bounced around the concept of value in use, acknowledged that I needed to get information on the local cost of boarding horses, briefly touched on the costs of veterinary treatment ( because I am going to ultimately have to try to develop value opinions for a couple of vet hospitals ), ricocheted off the dangers of parasites in pastureland, flip-flopped to the fact that local produce is probably more dangerous than Mexican imports, and sat down on the cage article. If you attempt to psychoanalyze me, I guarantee to drive you crazy.

In previous posts, I went into some detail regarding parasitic worms that affect people. I am much impressed by the existence of parasitic worms, because in Beauval we had many graphic lessons, from doggy doo to fish for the table, which made us wary of trusting food in its most natural state. There are quite a few people in our land who are strict vegetarians, and many who think the best way to serve food is raw. They are entitled to their opinions, and I have no desire to force them to eat otherwise. I am quite aware, however, that gastric discomfort can result from something as simple as drinking water from a well that one has never used before, and I have experienced diarrhea from sampling veggie trays at parties. In fact, the first couple of salads fresh from my own garden are likely to trigger funny stuff if the produce isn't cleaned well.

Grazing animals are particularly subject to parasitic organisms that spend part of their life cycle in low-lying vegetation. Watercress eaters probably have liver flukes, and I suspect that most vegetarians are skinnier than the population at large, not because of the lack of fat in their diet, but, because of their internal zoo which shares their nutrient supply. Trichina in pork was once a problem in this country, but after pigs began to be kept in smaller pens and couldn't free-range and eat rats and mice that hosted the intermediate stages, the disease practically disappeared. Chickens are also omnivores ( T. rex with feathers ) and if they get a chance, they will eat any rodent that crosses their pen -- we used to catch mice and throw them into the middle of the chicken yard and watch the action.

All the arguments about how good-tasting free-range livestock is tends to ignore the fact that part of the good taste comes from the stuff that buzzards eat. I would be willing to put money on the idea that free-range chickens and pigs (and cows and sheep and goats ) have worms that can be passed on to their eaters. That is not a gamble, because it is almost 100% certain. So we come to cages, and whether or not they are cruel.

Many of the Humane-ists see nothing wrong with keeping their dog or cat in the house. That is cruel, because both are hunting animals that need to roam and kill in order to be mentally well adjusted. Further, dogs are pack animals, and have a social need to be with other dogs. They think humans are poor substitutes for dogs, a fact which is easily shown as soon as they come into proximity with another of their own species -- they immediately sniff anuses. In addition, to neuter them is to deprive the male dog or cat of the joy of procreation and the female dog or cat of the satisfaction of maternity; such neutering is cruel in the extreme. Nevertheless, these same people would argue that keeping a laying hen in a cage so small it could barely turn about in, for the purpose of safety and hygiene, is cruel.

The chicken in a cage has controlled feed -- no wild critters in its provender to give it worms. It is kept clean -- no straw to collect chicken dumpings, since the mess drops through the bottom screens and gets taken away. It is safe -- no chicken hawks threatening from above, no skunks, raccoons, or dogs on the ground, and no peers to harass. I did forget to mention, didn't I, that chickens are known for their cannibalism? They have a pecking order. You put them in a flock, in the chicken yard with all kinds of room to roam, and they will establish the pecking order. Bottom ranking hen gets pecked by everyone else. She gets her feathers pulled out. Woe be to her if she starts to bleed, because at that point the whole flock will attack and eat her. She is much better off in the cage.

As a matter of fact, the optimum cage size is just the size of the chicken. She can sit or stand, and being very stupid, has no need to turn around, since the feed only goes in one end, and the eggs come out the other, and if the chicken turns around, there will be disaster in the cage. Farmers are not only smart, they are practical. Those are two characteristics that are underdeveloped in the Humane-ists.

Prior to Walt Disney and his anthropomorphic mice, attitudes toward animals tended to be realistic. Those who have been brainwashed into thinking that Bambi, the Snow White menagerie, and other cartoon animals represent reality have forgotten the facts of nature. Abuse is defined by society, and the definition will vary from place to place. In essence, it is a religious argument. Animal worship is a subset of human self-worship. Love me, love my dog. I am an absolutely irritating philosopher, am I not?

Radishculous!

We bought our beet seed at Copley Feed this year. Detroit Dark Reds. Shortly after it was planted, I noted that one of the sprouts looked a bit strange -- too green among beet greens tinged with red. Sunday I went out to pull a few (have to thin them, you know) and I decided that the oddball would be the first victim. As I bent to pull it, I was flabbergasted by size of the root. I pulled, and out came a monstrosity.



It was a radish. I wish my father-in-law could have seen this one! Despite the size, it was tender and relatively sweet inside. Usually big radishes are stringy and vilely "hot". We have been slicing it and using it; one slice covers a half slice of bread.



My regret is that I didn't leave it to go to seed. This one could get the Darwin Award for sure. Maybe I can clone it -- make the top sprout roots. Maybe.

Somebody Got a Degree in Spaghetti

I would say, "No Comment", but that in itself is a comment of a nasty sort when you consider the graphic.

Hats Off to Faded Glory™

My Help Meet decided that I needed some new jeans for the job. (Walking around cow pastures, through the woods, and into manufacturing plants does not require formal work wear, unless it is "farmer formal".) Last week she bought me two pairs of Faded Glory™ brand jeans at WallyWorld. As I was exploring them, I noticed that the watch pocket seemed larger than normal. Sure enough, the watch pockets on those two pair had been enlarged to enable storing a cell phone.

Imagine that! The whole purpose of that little bitty pocket was to enable the working gent to keep his pocket watch there without having the fob catch on things as he worked. (What! You thought it was for storage of your spare pennies? How droll!) The modern gentleman laborer no longer carries a fancy pocket watch (unless he is an ostentatious fop himself), and instead packs a cell phone which not only lets the government know where he is, at all times, to within a few yards, but also allows instantaneous world-wide communication, functions as a calculator and timepiece with stopwatch, and even (except for rare exceptions now) allows him to photograph or video record events (which can be broadcast world-wide as well).

Most clothing manufacturers seem to still be in the Dark Ages of the early 20th Century with respect to design, but not Faded Glory™. They have incorporated the modern equivalent of the gentleman's watch pocket in their bluejean design. Or at least I hope it was a conscious decision. Since I have at this moment only two specimens from which to draw my conclusions, I could be wrong. Nevertheless, I salute the Faded Glory™ Jeans Company for their Intelligent Design, which furthers the evolution of the blue jean in America.

If they were really intelligent, they would use this blog post as an advertisement, and pay me a royalty -- because this post is copyrighted by me under current US law -- like all the other Sayings of Grandpa Jim (©2003).

... and JUSTICE for all!

One of the reasons I wanted to fine-tune the Nylon 66 was the thievery occurring in my cherry tree. Old Owl sat on his stick, but he wouldn't give a hoot (even if we can hear REAL great horned owls every evening) and the birds were ignoring him. Fiberglass must have caught in his throat. The only things that were halfway scary were his eyeballs, and the birds flew right past him, and even ignored my fluttering foil cake dishes.

Ergo, I planned to reduce the population of feathered bandits. Meanwhile, my Smarter Half decided that we should simply pick the cherries, because they were almost all ripe, and that's what we began to do. We had filled two pans, so she went back to the house to get me an empty, and when she gave it to me, she left me in the tree (actually, on the stepladder) to finish picking while she began to pit.

The robins were not happy about my presence in the tree. They were screeching and flying around, and must not have been paying too much attention to other things. Suddenly I noticed the intensity of the screeching changed, and one bird sounded like it was in terrible distress. Sure, enough, sitting on the ground about 10 yards away was an avenger -- a Cooper's hawk. As I watched, it tore feathers from the still struggling robin. Then it tore chunks out of it and started enjoying its meal.

After a few minutes some bluejays started dive-bombing the hawk, never really getting too close. Finally, the hawk picked up what was left of the robin and flew off, with the jays in hot pursuit.

So there is justice in the land, after all. Thieves will be eaten.

I have been given to understand that farmers who used to have problems with chicken hawks would erect a pole with a muskrat trap on top in their poultry yards. Maybe I should erect a pole, say about 20 feet high, but with a nice perch for Mr. Cooper's Hawk. If I am nice to him, maybe I won't need Mr. Fiberglass Owl as much.

My Honey said she saw a bald eagle in her cherry tree. I'm still looking for him.

Get Your Pork Now

It is time to start another conspiracy theory.

"Everyone knows" that the government is out to control its citizens.

"Everyone knows" that our current administration has been infected (we once used the term "infiltrated", but I think under today's conditions, "infected" is apt) with hard-core anti-people pro-pagan socialists. The current administration is well versed in demagoguery, but sometimes schemers forget that no plan of battle survives contact with the enemy. When you start a stampede, don't try to change horses in mid-stream. (I love those old saws!)

This week we are beset with "swine flu". All over the world, governments are racing to slaughter pigs. The administration is suddenly worried that calling this disease "swine flu" will cause people to avoid pork, and ruin the pork farmers. The price of pork is set to rise, you betcha.

I see the hand of PETA (Pagans for the Extermination of Thoughtful Americans) in this. "Swine flu" is a ploy to stop people from eating pigs. Next month we will have an outbreak of "Mad Cow" disease, and steak and hamburgers will disappear from the menu. Then will come an epidemic of "Chicken Pox", and all the Illegal Aliens working at the chicken processing plants will be out of their jobs and eligible for a stimulus payment of some kind.

Yup. Grandpa Jim has it all figgered out. Conspiracies Unlimited, that's me. I guarantee that you will find it difficult to tell when I am serious and when I am delirious.

Stay tuned as I guide you into more lucidity than any Compact Florescent Light could ever provide.

Ooooo... another brainstorm... space aliens from Mercury... CFLs... there will be a shortage of tinfoil hats...

... but will HE bow to the pirates?

It cannot be easy being el Presidenté King of the United States. People expect heroic actions. It is a far cry from Neighborhood Organization.

President King Obozo has some life or death decisions to make. The captain of a U.S. flagged vessel is being held hostage by pirates who boarded his vessel but were eventually persuaded to leave. Too bad Obozo never studied military history.

Vessels like the Maersk Alabama which are flying the flag of the United States are part of the United States Merchant Marine. Under long-standing maritime practice (for historical background, study the Barbary Wars), it is considered an act of war for any military force, whatever its composition, to attack a vessel which is part of the United States Merchant Marine. Had the U.S. Congress officially declared war on "terrorism", the Merchant Marine at that point would have become an arm of the U.S. Navy.

Even without a declaration of war (the Barbary Wars were not declared wars, either) the existence of a state of war can, de facto, place the Merchant Marine within the Navy. Since Congress has not seen fit to declare any war since June 5, 1942, the de facto War on Terror, funded by Congress (but somehow recently declared to be finished by the Executive Branch) makes the Merchant Marine a de facto arm of the U.S. Navy.

President King Obozo needs a strict interpretation of the Constitution to pull his chestnuts out of the fire. No one in the Executive, Legislative, or Judicial branches appears to have any idea about what to do. Had the rules been followed, the solution would have been simpler (no guarantee as to the aesthetics is implied here).

Pirates/banditos/guerillas/military forces, whatever, attacking a de facto U.S. Navy vessel have declared war on the United States. The captain of the vessel that was attacked is a de facto naval officer. The attackers, who are holding the officer prisoner, are themselves surrounded and cut off from assistance; they are being ordered to surrender. President King Obozo has two choices : he can try to micromanage the situation alá Lyndon B. Johnson and Viet Nam with the consensus of the United Nations under the guise of there no longer being a War on Terror, or he can restart the War on Terror and turn over the entire situation to the Navy as a combat mission.

Ah, my muse has whispered a third choice. He can vote "present" and delegate the problem to Joe and Hilary.

I Said It Was Coming

I have been telling everyone that although the snow melted and the weather warmed, we always get a snowstorm in April. In fact, it almost always comes in the second week of April.2009

2007

2005

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