What’s the Problem with Gay Marriage, Anyway?

I really don’t get it. Last night my Wonder Woman and I were having a really gay time watching some Red Skelton material. I think our society needs more gaiety in marriages.

Homosexual “marriage”–now that’s another matter entirely different to gay marriage. I do wish folks would learn the difference… but then most of the folks who make the mistake of referring to homosexuals as “gay” probably also make the mistake of speaking about making war on an emotional reaction (terror) to horrific acts (terrorism).

Continue reading “What’s the Problem with Gay Marriage, Anyway?”


With insincere apologies to Mark Twain, a society that doesn’t count is no better than one that can’t. Consider the wisdom of the internet:

Over 3 in 2 people in the world are completely innumerate.

Eh? Come again? *heh*

Or better yet, consider this:

I don’t even know where to begin… *sigh*

One cent=$0.01


$0.00002X35893 (the kb use cited in the video above)=$0.71786

It’s very, very, very simple arithmetic. “Do-it-in-your-head” arithmetic. Doesn’t even qualify as “math,” IMO.

Why did the two Verizon reps just not get it? Well, not only is adult literacy on the decline in these (dis)United States, but a growing number of folks just can’t count… largely because they’ve not been compelled by education and experience to do so. Heck, even this otherwise thoughtful article at Money Instructor.com uses a model that is part of the problem, a big part.

There is nothing wrong with using a calculator, of course. Calculators are useful in that they save time on arithmetical computations. But in a modern society where most citizens have graduated from an advanced system of formal education, one would expect that educated people would have an understanding of what the calculator is doing. To be sure, the four basic operations are well understood by people who consider themselves educated, but recent studies show that a majority begin to have difficulty when faced with such concepts as square roots, simple algebraic terms, and grade school geometry.

Did you catch that? “To be sure, the four basic operations are well understood by people who consider themselves educated… ”

It doesn’t matter one bit whether people “consider themselves educated” or not. Those who cannot tell the difference between $0.002 and $0.00002 can’t perform “the four basic operations” and indeed do NOT understand them. They are innumerate. And their numbers are legion. And it is they who combine their illiteracy (“The man who doesn’t read good books has no advantage over the man who can’t read them.”–Twain) with their innumeracy and thus allow the Mass Media Podpeople Hivemind, politicians, illiterate and innumerate Academia Nut Fruitcakes, so-called educators and all their ilk to fill their minds with illiterate, innumerate, toxic sludge.

When a people cannot measure the impacts of public policies in clear and meaningful ways, then that people can fall prey to all kinds of flim-flammery. And such is the American public becoming.

Millions of Americans engage the services of income tax accountants every year because they are unable to perform the simple calculations themselves. Many others have difficulty interpreting statistical information, percentages, or any kind of information expressed in terms of graphs and charts. When it comes to calculating areas, capacity, or weights and measures, the average North American is not sure where to begin. For a modern society, this should be an intolerable situation, yet it seems that for most people it is quite normal and acceptable.

In short, millions of Americans are enstupiated sheeple, ripe for shearing. Worse, these same people cannot really blame the failures of “public education” (AKA “prisons for kids”), because almost anyone who wants to, who puts in a little effort, can become literate and numerate. Well more than half the population of enstupiated American sheeple are self-made enstupiated American sheeple.

In a representative republic, such is a recipe for disaster. In an ever more democratic (rule by mob) representative republic, we are beginning to reap many of the ills feared by the Founders, largely because a lazy, illiterate, innumerate electorate enables the obscene autoeriticism of politicians who gain almost orgasmic pleasure from misusing tax monies as yet uncollected from future generations.

I met a woman in her 60s the other day who declaimed that “We older people will lose all our benefits if the Republicans gain power.” *huh*?!? What benefits? Social Security has long been bankrupt, stealing from younger generations to buy older folks’ votes. Medicare and other “benefits” are likewise nothing but Ponzi schemes writ large. “Benefits” that steal from my children and grandchildren (and yours) to pay me are beyond obscene; they are simply wrong. Dhimmicraps/Repugnican’ts: makes not one bit of difference. The Ponzi scheme remains. And people who can’t or won’t do the math to see behind the smokescreen are the problem–or at least a large part of it–that keeps the government’s shameful Ponzi schemes going. For now. But someday, numbers will force an accounting, and when that happens, katie bar the door.

“There are three kinds of people in the world: those who count and those who don’t.”

*heh* Which are you?

Trackposted to The Pink Flamingo, Rosemary’s Thoughts, Political Byline, Wingless – Belgium Says Israel Uses Child Soldiers, Refuses to Sell Weapons, Democrat=Socialist, and DragonLady’s World, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.

Annual “Illiterate Boobs” Month

This month I have to once again suffer through a month filled with people who either cannot or refuse to pronounce “February,” preferring the illiterate “Feb-YOU-ary” mispronunciation because, I suppose, they are simply too stupid or too butt lazy–or both–to pronounce the first “r”.

Stupid, butt lazy, illiterate dolts. Gives me a rash, chaps my gizzard and makes me wish for a “Magic Dope Stick” to whack ’em all upside the head with. Unfortunately, it seems all of ’em who deseve a swift whack upside the head have already performed their own self-lobotomies and so even were such a magic stick available, I doubt it would do any good.

*grumble, grumble, gripe, complain*

Trackposted to The Pink Flamingo, Wingless – American Teen Killed By Released Guantanamo Detainees, Nuke Gingrich, Wingless – Belgium Says Israel Uses Child Soldiers, Refuses to Sell Weapons, and Wingless – Hamas Steals Aid Meant For People of Gaza, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.

Wednesday’s Classwork: The Bell of Atri

Written in the 1870s, the poem below is a good illustration of just why a literate citizenry is essential to a representative republic, such as the United States of America are supposed to be. (Note well that I wrote, as was proper during the Founders’ day, before Emperor Lincoln’s War, “ARE supposed to be”.) The lessons it gently but firmly articulates are lessons that responsible citizens must take to heart… but, of course, to do so such citizens must first be aware that those lessons, those principles, exist. Sadly, the wealth of history and literature that could aid in inculcating such ideas in young minds is far, far from the agenda of todays “public schools” (better called “prisons for kids”). Tell me, if you will, what lessons for citizens do you infer from Longfellow’s words. Please limit answers to no more than 1,000 words per comment. *heh* (Don’t stop at the most famous lines–“Pride goeth forth on horseback grand and gay… ” but look for underlying principles, please.)

The Bell of Atri
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

At Atri in Abruzzo, a small town
Of ancient Roman date, but scant renown,
One of those little places that have run
Half up the hill, beneath a blazing sun,
And then sat down to rest, as if to say,
“I climb no farther upward, come what may,” —
The Re Giovanni, now unknown to fame,
So many monarchs since have borne the name,
Had a great bell hung in the market-place,
Beneath a roof, projecting some small space
By way of shelter from the sun and rain.
Then rode he through the streets with all his train,
And, with the blast of trumpets loud and long,
Made proclamation, that whenever wrong
Was done to any man, he should but ring
The great bell in the square, and he, the King,
Would cause the Syndic to decide thereon.
Such was the proclamation of King John.

How swift the happy days in Atri sped,
What wrongs were righted, need not here be said.
Suffice it that, as all things must decay,
The hempen rope at length was worn away,
Unraveled at the end, and, strand by strand,
Loosened and wasted in the ringer’s hand,
Till one, who noted this in passing by,
Mended the rope with braids of briony,
So that the leaves and tendrils of the vine
Hung like a votive garland at a shrine.

By chance it happened that in Atri dwelt
A knight, with spur on heel and sword in belt,
Who loved to hunt the wild-boar in the woods,
Who loved his falcons with their crimson hoods,
Who loved his hounds and horses, and all sports
And prodigalities of camps and courts; —
Loved, or had loved them; for at last, grown old,
His only passion was the love of gold.

He sold his horses, sold his hawks and hounds,
Rented his vineyards and his garden-grounds
Kept but one steed, his favorite steed of all,
To starve and shiver in a naked stall,
And day by day sat brooding in his chair,
Devising plans how best to hoard and spare.

At length he said: “What is the use or need
To keep at my own cost this lazy steed,
Eating his head off in my stables here,
When rents are low and provender is dear?
Let him go feed upon the public ways;
I want him only for the holidays.”
So the old steed was turned into the heat;
Of the long, lonely, silent, shadeless street;
And wandered in suburban lanes forlorn,
Barked at by dogs, and torn by brier and thorn.

One afternoon, as in that sultry clime
It is the custom in the summer time,
With bolted doors and window-shutters closed,
The inhabitants of Atri slept or dozed;
When suddenly upon their senses fell
The loud alarm of the accusing bell!
The Syndic started from his deep repose,
Turned on his couch, and listened, and then rose
And donned his robes, and with reluctant pace
Went panting forth into the market-place,
Where the great bell upon its cross-beams swung,
Reiterating with persistent tongue,
In half-articulate jargon, the old song:
“Some one hath done a wrong, hath done a wrong!”

But ere he reached the belfry’s light arcade
He saw, or thought he saw, beneath its shade,
No shape of human form of woman born,
But a poor steed dejected and forlorn,
Who with uplifted head and eager eye
Was tugging at the vines of briony.
“Domeneddio!” cried the Syndic straight,
“This is the Knight of Atri’s steed of state!
He calls for justice, being sore distressed,
And pleads his cause as loudly as the best.”

Meanwhile from street and land a noisy crowd
Had rolled together like a summer cloud,
And told the story of the wretched beast
In five-and-twenty different ways at least,
With much gesticulation and appeal
To heathen gods, in their excessive zeal.
The Knight was called and questioned; in reply
Did not confess the fact, did not deny;
Treated the matter as a pleasant jest,
And set at naught the Syndic and the rest,
Maintaining, in an angry undertone,
That he should do what pleased him with his own.

And thereupon the Syndic gravely read
The proclamation of the King; then said:
“Pride goeth forth on horseback grand and gay,
But cometh back on foot, and begs its way;
Fame is the fragrance of heroic deeds,
Of flowers of chivalry and not of weeds!
These are familiar proverbs; but I fear
They never yet have reached your knightly ear.
What fair renown, what honor, what repute
Can come to you from starving this poor brute?
He who serves well and speaks not, merits more
Than they who clamor loudest at the door.
Therefore the law decrees that as this steed
Served you in youth, henceforth you shall take heed
To comfort his old age, and to provide
Shelter in stall, and food and field beside.”

The Knight withdrew abashed; the people all
Led home the steed in triumph to his stall.
The King heard and approved, and laughed in glee,
And cried aloud: “Right well it pleaseth me!
Church-bells at best but ring us to the door;
But go not in to mass; my bell doth more:
It cometh into court and pleads the cause
Of creatures dumb and unknown to the laws;
And this shall make, in every Christian clime,
The Bell of Atri famous for all time.”

Nah, of course I can’t dock your grade for not doing the assignment. I don’t have to. Life and time will do that well enough without me. But do note well that Proverbs 16:18 (Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall) is not the only lesson this poem seeks to impart; it is but one of several that are useful in instruction of responsible citizens… and governors.

Aside: (Now, this may seem to be a really offbeat rabbit trail :-)) Note also, for “extra credit” the poetic construction of the original proverb and compare/contrast it to Longfellow’s treatment. (Ancient middle eastern poetic convention was different to 19th century English/American poetic convention in many ways, but there are similarities–mostly in how the latter echoes the former in broad strokes expanded from the minimalist original. Fun, and noting such things can be useful to development of citizenship in ways other than Longfellow’s primary message(s).)

Trackposted to The Pink Flamingo, Allie is Wired, Political Byline, and Democrat=Socialist, thanks to Linkfest Haven Deluxe.