Odds and Ends on a Sunday

Bits n' pieces of thoughts....

I really dislike people who put all their grocery items on the conveyor at the supermarket and then say ... "wait a minute" ... and leave to go down an aisle or two looking for items that they forgot. Is there no common courtesy left in the world?

And, .. how about people who go into the 10 items or less lane with an entire cart? Then they say something stupid, like " I am really in a hurry". You should (at the very least) be able to slap them silly in front of God and everybody.

Or ... people who park in a Handicapped parking space and dismiss it with ... "I'll just be a minute". Or people who have handicapped plates, but they're not the handicapped person, and park there. Like today, a teenager with handicapped plates on the car parks in front of Walgreen's and "runs" into the store. I do not think those plates were for her.

On the home front ... I worked 11 hours Saturday (inventory of my warehouse and Horizon's warehouse by an outside firm) and worked 3 1/2 today. We watched a movie last evening and one today (I wanted to watch the NFL). So now ... it's 1745 MST (15 til 6 civilian time) .... I am watching NFL highlight shows and readying myself for tonight's game in 15 minutes.

Cousin Dean - congrats on the Ravens victory.
Brother Mickey - sorry about those Cowboys.
Ms Sheryl - Your Vikes lost a close one, sorry
and .... da' Bears got whupped, and they were supposed to be damn near invincible.

********
Well, I have been switching back and forth between the football game and the History Channel .. about meteors, etc. I can't help myself.

Fred Reed's Column 11-3

I sometimes think that the defects of men, and the virtues of women, are equally understated. An unreconstructed male will say that men have invented all sorts of things and built this and that, which is true. Feminists measure themselves by the extent to which they manage to resemble men, which is a mistake. Both largely overlook the gravest plague to afflict humanity: the infernal and irremediable aggressiveness of males.

When one speaks of being uneasy at having wandered into a bad neighborhood, it is solely from fear of attack by the males, is it not? If a woman’s car breaks down on a lonely road at night, she will be frightened of attack not by women or wild animals, but only by men. People do not avoid bar districts in the neighborhoods of the lower classes from wise concern about drunken pugnacious women. Men attack. Women don’t.

Physical incapacity has little to do with it. While the average woman cannot beat up the average man, three could, if accustomed to fighting. Women are neither accustomed to fighting nor interested in doing it. It is not by mere extended coincidence that nine of ten people in prison are men. The cause is their inherent aggressiveness. Theirs is the behavior of ownerless dogs living in the street.

“Hey, muthuhfuckuh, who you lookin’ at?”

Men, like street dogs, are both territorial and creatures of the pack. It starts early because it is instinctive. A boy of eleven showing up at a new school will be eyed by the other boys, tested, regarded with initial suspicion—but only by the boys. He earns his place in the pack. The girls are far more likely to say, “Hi, I’m Sally. What’s your name?” The little boys in a neighborhood form gangs, perfectly harmless in suburbs of the middle classes but gangs nevertheless, and guard their territory against intruders. They are playing, as puppies play. They are practicing for more serious times.

Come puberty and, in bad neighborhoods, things become ominous. The young males are now propelled by adult muscle and impelled by combative hormones. The Crips and Bloods in California, the Jets and Sharks of light opera, the Vice Lords, El Ruykns, Latin Kings, Black Gangster Disciples and so on of Chicago, the Hells Angels and the Confederate Angels and the Sons of Silence of motorcycledom: They are now dangerous.

They still closely resemble both street dogs and eleven-year-olds in fundamental motivation. They are intensely territorial. Members of one gang are very aware of the unwisdom of going into the territory of another. They have elaborate means of indicating membership in the pack: gang signs made with the hands, hats worn at specific orientations, jackets of particular colors, tattoos. The Hells Angels will beat you to death if you wear their paraphernalia. The graffiti sprayed everywhere nowadays in cities are precisely the territorial markings engaged in by male dogs, though the means differ. Despite the occasional stories asserting that girls are now forming violent gangs, they don’t. The appeal of hostile bands works its sordid magic only on males.

The instinctive (and sexual) foundations of all of this are obvious in other things. A young American male in, say, Asia, will find the local women willing to date him for all the usual reasons that cause women to date men. (Note the theme of West Side Story, which in this respect is perfectly accurate.) The local men will watch with hostility, however disguised. Males try to prevent access by outsiders to the women of their group. Thus they are less concerned about intrusion into their regions by white-haired men. These pose no sexual threat.

Within a society, the aggressiveness of the males can be moderated by rigorous enforcement of civility. In particular, the unshirted sexual forwardness of the male can be abated: A man in a suit seldom says, “Nice tits, baby,” or grab a handful, though both thoughts occur to him. This is why feminists are fools to deride the twin concepts, Lady and Gentleman. But even among the socially elevated, such street-doggery as dueling has often existed. The elaborate ritual of throwing down the gauntlet is nothing more than an elegant form of the gangbanger’s strut-and-holler. Hey, muthuhfuckuh….

The aggressiveness of males has wreaked unremitting havoc throughout history in the form of war. Women don’t do war, don’t like war, don’t fantasize about war. They put up with it. Lysistrata, though written by a man, captures the distaff mind well.

These days every war is said to have some justification of the most solemn import, but it’s just Crips and Bloods. Among primitive peoples a young man becomes a warrior through some curious rite, and then goes on raids to steal horses and women. With us it’s boot camp, jump wings, Ranger patch, and raids to impose democracy. The essential difference is as follows:

What we call statesmanship is, emotionally and morally, indistinguishable from gang war in South Chicago. The scale is more imposing and, under some administrations, the grammar better. Aggressive males rise to power in heavily armed countries of many millions. Then they push and shove, bark and bow-wow at others like themselves in other countries. The tribal trappings remain, particularly among the warriors: Baubles and medals and patches and different hats, talk of honor and duty and valor. Nah. Males dogs in an alley.

Women have very little use for it, though there is precious little they can do to change things. Their focus is different. In three decades of covering the military, I noticed that women thought in terms of people. To a male, a firestorm in Hamburg ignited by bombing constitutes a great victory. To a woman, it is tens of thousands of people burned alive. She is likely to ask, “Are we sure this is a good idea?” The aggressive male doesn’t want to hear about children being roasted to death and (I’ve been through this with them countless times) gets angry if you bring it up. He uses phrases like “collateral damage,” or says, “In war, shit happens. Deal with it.” Among men, “Anti-war” is likely to be an insult; among women, a compliment.

Male aggressiveness pervades human life. It fuels the unending drive to found empires. A woman might say, “Look, Alex, you’ve got a perfectly good palace in Macedon, plenty to eat, a bar on the corner, nice women. Are you quite sure you need to conquer India? What are you going to do with it?” Men are more likely than women to favor capitalism (or “free enterprise” or “unrestricted rapine,” according to your politics) than women because it sanctifies commercial combat. Fifty billion isn’t enough, I must destroy the competition and eradicate Linux….

What to do about it? Nothing, at least any time soon.

Thoughts

I have been asked ... what do you want (or not want) from the government and / or your representatives to the Legislative Branch, given your political views? So, over the next day or so, I shall look inwardly and try to say what I believe.

I would like for the government to:
1- maintain a strong military
2- keep the highways in good shape
3- have a strong and fair judiciary that looks out for citizens and not well heeled breakers of the law
4- protect our borders and prosecute people who enter this country illegally or stay here illegally after their visas, etc run out
5- take care of our country's interests throughout the world

I would like for the government to stop:
1- Loaning money to every country in the world .. even some who do not need it, ... but not taking care of folks at home
2- Involving themselves with every little facet of daily life.
3- Telling me what to eat, how to live, where to go .. unless it harms or seriously inconvieniences someone else.

It is not the governments business if I wear a seat belt, or a motorcycle helmet, or decent shoes. It is not their business if I smoke (I don't), or drink, or eat fattening foods. It is not their business if I worship or whom I worship.

I understand that this is very simplistic, but unless I write a full blown theses, I must remain simplistic.

Another matter ....
There are so many warning labels around these days we're starting to ignore them. Your
computer keyboard "can" cause carpal tunnel. Your monitor "may" cause eye strain. Funny newsletters "could" cause you to blow coffee through your nose. When everything has a warning label, how will we know when we REALLY need to pay attention to a warning of something serious?
(Tip: a sign blaring "WARNING! Be Sure to Read All Warning Signs!" won't help.)

WHY are there warnings everywhere? Because manufacturers are trying to reduce their legal liability -- they're hoping not to be sued by people who don't seem to have any remnant of common sense.

And it's not just companies trying to cover their butts: governments are adding to the clutter too. The doors at every supermarket in California are plastered with "warnings" which supposedly inform consumers that certain foods have "chemicals known to the State of
California to cause cancer." I remember rolling my eyes when the sign for saccharin went up, but since then it's gotten worse: Now it's mercury. What foods have added mercury in them? None. But seafood has it naturally -- and darn it, people need to be WARNED!

It's all mandated by Proposition 65, more formally known as California's "Safe Drinking Water and Toxic Enforcement Act of 1986". Since the ballot proposition was passed by voters, the list of chemicals requiring warning signs has ballooned to 750. (Yet this "Safe Drinking
Water" law exempts public water works from having to post warnings.) Efforts to reduce the sign requirements to only cover things people REALLY need to know about have been blocked. The result: no one really sees them anymore -- not the goofy ones, and not the IMPORTANT ones.

But don't think it's just those wacky Californians. The situation nationwide has gotten so ridiculous that, just like I have plenty of dumb lawsuits to report on, others have plenty of dumb warning labels to hold up for ridicule. Michigan Lawsuit Abuse Watch has a "Wacky Warning Labels" competition each year for the dumbest warning labels. Some of the ones that have NOT actually won include:

1) a pan that warns, "Ovenware will get hot when used in oven."
2) a cocktail napkin with an arty map on it that cautions, "Not to be used for navigation."
3) a kitchen knife with the label, "Never try to catch a falling knife."
4) a heat gun and paint remover that produces temperatures of 1,000 degrees and warns users, “Do not use this tool as a hair dryer”
5) Texas gets an honorable mention for a warning label found on a bottle of dried bobcat urine made to keep rodents and other pests away from garden plants. It says: “Not for human consumption.”

With those losers, imagine the ones that actually win.

“Warning labels are a sign of our lawsuit-plagued times,” said Robert B. Dorigo Jones, M-LAW president. “An unpredictable legal system – in which judges allow anyone to file a lawsuit on almost any theory – has created a need for product makers to plaster wacky warnings on everything. When judges see it as their job to dismiss cases that are rooted in frivolous theories, we’ll see fewer wacky labels and more fairness in the courts.”

Anyone who brings a frivolous lawsuit should have to shoulder both sides legal fees lpus the cost of the proceedings. If you do not have enough common sense to know that there are dangers out there ... like hot coffee is 'hot', products are to be used with some semblance of common sense ... then you need to die young and suffer. The gene pool needs cleaning.

A daily commuter's thoughts

I have just driven home from work ... running late today and I hit the "rush hour" traffic. Now, I realize that we (being a city of only 1 million) have no where close to the congestion that large cities have. But ... I do believe in four major truths about rush hour traffic.

#1 - Posted speed limits are merely a 'suggestion' to most drivers, or worse yet .. a starting point.
#2 - Most people do not think about getting in their proper lane until the very last minute. This is especially true if you need to change 2 or 3 lanes. If this bothers you, they are
more than willing to extend their finger in your direction and talk loudly about your parentage, or lack of same.
#3 - Talking on the cell phone, eating, and applying make-up are much preferable to actually paying attention to your driving or the traffic situations around you.
#4 - Red lights are not important, they merely let you know that some asshole may pull out in front of you from the lanes to your left or right (that actually have the right of way). Shame on them.

Am I bitter? No, .... but I do feel more fear on Tucson's streets than I felt in Vietnam. I relish the fact that, usually, I miss the traffic this time of day. The people who (nationwide) spend part of each day in these traffic maelstroms have my sympathy and my respect ... unless they are the ones who are guilty of the aforementioned faux pas' .. or one of the few that I didn't mention.

Later !