I, like most Americans, cheered the technological breakthrough that brought us squeeze mayonnaise. Thanks to the squeeze bottle, I would never again face the horror of sticking a knife into a jar of mayo, only to discover a six-week-old fragment of chunk light tuna that used to be swimming in natural spring water.
But here's the problem: Squeeze mayonnaise is a diabolical plot, masterminded by Hellmann's (and probably Halliburton) to increase mayonnaise sales.
They make it look legitimate with words like "E-Z Squeeze" and a label that's applied so as to be upright when the bottle rests on its cap. And at first, one little squeeze delivers a perfect portion of mayo. Don't be fooled! This condimentary utopia is a swiftly fading mirage.
Even though it may be resting on its lid in the fridge for a month, the mayo inside refuses to yield to gravity after less than half the bottle has been emptied. First, you try to shake it. But that mayo has stronger adhesive properties than colon polyps. Sometimes a stray dollop shakes loose, only to be ejected from the bottle by your violent shaking. This projectile mayonnaise (or "projectaise") is inexplicably drawn to trousers and/or mail. At this point, you think there's enough near the bottle exit to squeeze on your burger. But after only a fraction of an ounce crawls out, an air bubble is released with the escape velocity of a Saturn V rocket, spraying a fine mist of mayonnaise (or "mistaise") over a six square foot area.
Angry and in need of new pants, you figure you'll just take the lid off and use a knife. HA! That lid is harder to remove than a truck bumper. It's designed with a locking latch and secured with Krazy Glue, solder and carpet tacks. It's the exact same lid mechanism they use for spent uranium rods. You're not getting inside that bottle without the jaws of life.
Eventually, you give up and throw out 40% to 60% of the mayonnaise you bought, then run out and buy more. Meanwhile, the fiends at Hellmann's (and probably Goldman Sachs) laugh all the way to the bank.
But I'm on to your sinister game, Mr. Hellmann (and probably Mr. Bin Laden). I'm going back to the jar, tuna be damned.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
Note to MLB: HURRY UP!!!
If there's one thing this year's World Series is long on, it's length. Each game has been nearly three and a half hours long, regardless of the final score:
Yes, there have been a couple of high-scoring affairs there, but even game two which totaled only four runs was nearly 3.5 hours long. Compare that to this:
There is one category, however, where this year's games all come up short: drama. On October 13, 1960, there was barely time to breathe between twists and turns. This year, there's time to visit the fridge, check email, tuck in the kids, run to the store and take part in a webinar. No wonder America is tuning out in droves.
A bigger problem that MLB seems unable to comprehend much less address is that the next generation of fans can't watch the games because they start so late and last so painfully long. On school nights. IN THE SECOND MARKING PERIOD.
In 1960, game seven started at one o'clock in the afternoon. So loved was the game of baseball that kids skipped school to watch it or smuggled transistor radios into school to catch the action as it happened. Now, they're lucky to be awake when the second inning starts, much less for the final out.
If kids never see the final act of the baseball season, eventually (and this is already happening) they're not going to follow Major League Baseball at all during the summer. The only reason you follow a story is to see how it ends. And baseball's story ends too late in the year and too late at night for kids to get that satisfaction. Which, down the road already being traveled, might end baseball's story altogether.
GAME 1: Phillies 6, Yankees 1
Hits: 15
Pitchers: 7
Time: 3 hours 27 minutes
GAME 2: Yankees 3, Phillies 1
Hits: 14
Pitchers: 6
Time: 3 hours 25 minutes
GAME 3: Yankees 8, Phillies 5
Hits: 14
Pitchers: 10
Time: 3 hours 25 minutes
GAME 4: Yankees 7, Phillies 4
Hits: 17
Pitchers: 8
Time: 3 hours 25 minutes
Yes, there have been a couple of high-scoring affairs there, but even game two which totaled only four runs was nearly 3.5 hours long. Compare that to this:
1960 World Series Game 7: Pirates 10, Yankees 9A game that featured 19 runs, seven pitching changes, 24 hits, five walks, one error and a timeout to drag Tony Kubek off the field was 49 to 51 minutes shorter than any series game played so far this year.
Hits: 24
Pitchers 9
Time: 2 hours 36 minutes
There is one category, however, where this year's games all come up short: drama. On October 13, 1960, there was barely time to breathe between twists and turns. This year, there's time to visit the fridge, check email, tuck in the kids, run to the store and take part in a webinar. No wonder America is tuning out in droves.
A bigger problem that MLB seems unable to comprehend much less address is that the next generation of fans can't watch the games because they start so late and last so painfully long. On school nights. IN THE SECOND MARKING PERIOD.
In 1960, game seven started at one o'clock in the afternoon. So loved was the game of baseball that kids skipped school to watch it or smuggled transistor radios into school to catch the action as it happened. Now, they're lucky to be awake when the second inning starts, much less for the final out.
If kids never see the final act of the baseball season, eventually (and this is already happening) they're not going to follow Major League Baseball at all during the summer. The only reason you follow a story is to see how it ends. And baseball's story ends too late in the year and too late at night for kids to get that satisfaction. Which, down the road already being traveled, might end baseball's story altogether.
Friday, October 30, 2009
The World's Funniest Nazi Dies at 96
The mystery is how Fritz Darges didn't die at 31.
Darges was the last surviving member of Hitler's inner circle. He died Saturday at the age of 96, still admiring Hitler, still longing for a Reich. "I must say, I found him a genius," he said of Hitler. (OK, that part isn't funny, but what ardent leftist doesn't think all socialist crazies are geniuses?)
Darges cut his comedic chops in the worst possible place imaginable: a conference with Adolf Hitler on July 18, 1944.
Now, by July of 1944, Hitler probably wasn't in a joking mood. The Allies had landed in France and things along the eastern front with Russia were falling apart. In this particular conference of his inner circle, Hitler was going over strategies and maps with, among others, Darges and Luftwaffe adjutant Nicolaus von Below. At one point during the meeting, a fly made it's presence known by buzzing around Hitler's head and landing on his map.
At this point, Hitler ordered Darges to dispatch the fly.
Darges, who I'm assuming was laughing inwardly as he said it, suggested that since the fly was an airborne pest, the responsibility fell to the Luftwaffe, and as such, von Below should take care of it.
History tells us not whether von Below laughed. But Hitler sure as hell didn't.
Only a Hitler could not find Darges' comment funny, and needless to say, this Hitler did not. "You're for the eastern front!" he raged, and had Darges removed from the room. True to his word, Hitler sent Darges to fight the Russians. Considering that kings normally slay jesters who fail to amuse, he got off easy.
Or at least until he got home, I'm guessing. Imagine explaining that one to the missus.
DARGES: Um, honey? I leave for the eastern front tomorrow.
MRS. D.: What?!? But you're in Hitler's inner circle!
DARGES: Yeah, not so much now.
MRS. D.: What happened?!?
DARGES: Well... it's funny, really, when you think about it. There was this fly buzzing around and Hitler told me to kill it. So I said, "That's an airborne pest so it's the Luftwaffe's job. Make von Below do it." Heh-heh.
Pause
DARGES: I guess you had to be there.
Two days later, that bit of hilarity might have saved Darges' life. On July 20, the bomb designed to kill Hitler went off at a meeting of the inner circle, killing three officers and the stenographer.
Meanwhile, Darges was alive and well and on his way to Russia. That's a shame, given how unrepentant the old Nazi was right up until the very end. That joke should have killed.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
The Not-So-Super Collider
Very quietly last week, scientists deep under Switzerland restarted the Large Hadron Collider. This is the device that European men designed to slam atoms together at 99.999% of the speed of light just to see what happens. (OK, I'm only assuming it was men since it involves making things crash into each other. Which, as any man will tell you, is frickin' awesome.)
The Europeans restarted it quietly this time because when they first started it back in September of 2008, they did so with much fanfare. Then it broke down. Kinda like their cars.
But it's back up and running now, and soon we'll unlock the secret of how and why matter exists in the universe. Which is nice, I guess. And I have to guess because I have no idea what they're talking about when they start explaining what they're looking for. Mind you, I graduated from one of the most respected science universities in the world. Granted, it was with two writing degrees, but you have to figure that I picked up something by osmosis.
What they're looking for is the Higgs boson particle, sometimes referred to as the "God Particle" for its vital role in making matter exist. If indeed it exists itself. Here's what Wiki says about the Higgs boson particle:
Uh-huh, uh-huh. I followed that right up to the first appearance of the word "boson."
This demonstrates one problem they're going to have to overcome if they do find the Higgs boson particle: explaining just what it is and what it means in a way that somebody can understand. It's more likely that whoever they're talking to will just ball up a fist and punch them in the mouth out of frustration.
Another problem is they're crashing sub-microscopic stuff, which is dreadfully dull. Personally, I'm not interested in what happens when proton beams or lead ions collide at the speed of light. However, I would be extremely interested in seeing what happens when two Matchbox cars collide at the speed of light. Or a bowling ball and a rock. Or how about two of those electric football players. What do you think would happen to the dude with the little cotton football in a head-on, speed-of-light collision? I'm guessing he fumbles, but without the sound science this super collider provides, we'll never know for sure.
A lesser problem, but a problem nonetheless, is that some scientists theorize that the collision could create a black hole. They're not talking about a burn-hole in the machine itself. They're talking about the black hole that sucks in all matter and crushes it into virtual nonexistence. Eventually, it would swallow the entire planet. The good news is it would start with Europe, so we'd at least get the last laugh.
One final problem is that the collider is being tampered with. Two physicists (one Danish, one Japanese) believe that the collider broke down the first time because of some weird time warp created by the machine itself. Their theory is that nature traveled back in time and stopped the creation of the Higgs boson. Oddly enough, both physicists are named Gene Roddenberry.
Of course, this last problem is just silly. Let's face it: if nature could travel back in time, the first thing it would do is stop the creation of Astroturf. Then it would turn its wrath on virtually all post-1950s architecture.
But, even if it isn't a time warp or a black hole, we can be sure that something exciting will come out of the Large Hadron Collider, because scientists will tell us as much. It just won't be between 160 GeV/c2 and 170 GeV/c2, because the Tevatron excluded that at the 95% confidence level back in March. But that goes without saying, really. Or at least, it should.
The Europeans restarted it quietly this time because when they first started it back in September of 2008, they did so with much fanfare. Then it broke down. Kinda like their cars.
But it's back up and running now, and soon we'll unlock the secret of how and why matter exists in the universe. Which is nice, I guess. And I have to guess because I have no idea what they're talking about when they start explaining what they're looking for. Mind you, I graduated from one of the most respected science universities in the world. Granted, it was with two writing degrees, but you have to figure that I picked up something by osmosis.
What they're looking for is the Higgs boson particle, sometimes referred to as the "God Particle" for its vital role in making matter exist. If indeed it exists itself. Here's what Wiki says about the Higgs boson particle:
The Higgs boson particle is one quantum component of the theoretical Higgs Field. In empty space, the Higgs field has an amplitude different from zero; i.e., a non-zero vacuum expectation value. The existence of this non-zero vacuum expectation plays a fundamental role: it gives mass to every elementary particle which has mass, including the Higgs boson itself.
Uh-huh, uh-huh. I followed that right up to the first appearance of the word "boson."
This demonstrates one problem they're going to have to overcome if they do find the Higgs boson particle: explaining just what it is and what it means in a way that somebody can understand. It's more likely that whoever they're talking to will just ball up a fist and punch them in the mouth out of frustration.
Another problem is they're crashing sub-microscopic stuff, which is dreadfully dull. Personally, I'm not interested in what happens when proton beams or lead ions collide at the speed of light. However, I would be extremely interested in seeing what happens when two Matchbox cars collide at the speed of light. Or a bowling ball and a rock. Or how about two of those electric football players. What do you think would happen to the dude with the little cotton football in a head-on, speed-of-light collision? I'm guessing he fumbles, but without the sound science this super collider provides, we'll never know for sure.
A lesser problem, but a problem nonetheless, is that some scientists theorize that the collision could create a black hole. They're not talking about a burn-hole in the machine itself. They're talking about the black hole that sucks in all matter and crushes it into virtual nonexistence. Eventually, it would swallow the entire planet. The good news is it would start with Europe, so we'd at least get the last laugh.
One final problem is that the collider is being tampered with. Two physicists (one Danish, one Japanese) believe that the collider broke down the first time because of some weird time warp created by the machine itself. Their theory is that nature traveled back in time and stopped the creation of the Higgs boson. Oddly enough, both physicists are named Gene Roddenberry.
Of course, this last problem is just silly. Let's face it: if nature could travel back in time, the first thing it would do is stop the creation of Astroturf. Then it would turn its wrath on virtually all post-1950s architecture.
But, even if it isn't a time warp or a black hole, we can be sure that something exciting will come out of the Large Hadron Collider, because scientists will tell us as much. It just won't be between 160 GeV/c2 and 170 GeV/c2, because the Tevatron excluded that at the 95% confidence level back in March. But that goes without saying, really. Or at least, it should.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Celebrating the Absence of Resistance
Upon hearing that President Barack Obama is the winner of the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize, most people rightly asked, "Why?" A world leader for only nine months, Obama has no substantial achievement that would seem to qualify him for such an honor. But according to the Nobel Peace Prize committee, he doesn't need one:
"His diplomacy is founded in the concept that those who are to lead the world must do so on the basis of values and attitudes that are shared by the majority of the world's population."
That's a revealing reason, given that the "majority of the world's population" (which lives under one degree of socialism or another) has been unable to match our tiny minority of the world's population in achievement that betters humanity. In science, medicine and economics, the United States has won 231 Nobel prizes. No other country has even approached 100. Britain is closest with 73. Clearly, the "values and attitudes shared by the majority of the world's population" tend not to inspire genius or achievement. Rather, the values and attitudes at the root of American liberty have proven most effective at compelling, inspiring and allowing individual greatness to manifest itself. Two-hundred and thirty-one times, at last count.
In spite of this, the Nobel Peace Prize committee has for many years honored those who stand in opposition to America and squarely in the camp of socialism — especially if they do so from within. Al Gore, in 2007, for his manufactured global warming hysteria that would, if acted upon, cripple the American economy and quash most individual freedoms. Jimmy Carter, in 2002, for his worldwide Bush-bashing tour. From outside our borders, there's Wangari Muta Maathai from Kenya for her "contribution to sustainable development," which is code for "government central planning of pretty much everything." The United Nations won in 2001 for... um... I guess their "sex for food" program. And most famously, Mikhail Gorbachev took the prize in 1990 for single-handedly winning the cold war by surrendering unconditionally to the war-mongering capitalists, Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush.
True to form, the Nobel committee again fawned over a man who wants to surrender American sovereignty, individual liberty and prosperity to the left's false religion of climate change:
"Thanks to Obama's initiative, the USA is now playing a more constructive role in meeting the great climatic challenges the world is confronting."
And so it is that Barack Obama, champion of massive government intrusion in the name of climate change, is the 2009 recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize. A man known for his peaceful takeover of the U.S. auto industry and the U.S. financial system. A man working tirelessly to peacefully take over the U.S. health care system. A man, very quietly, trying to peacefully take over the World Wide Web through his internet Czar, Susan Crawford — an ACORN-associated leftist who envisions the web as a utility like gas, water and electricity (which are, of course stringently regulated by the government). A man who has spent the better part of his presidency thus far traveling the globe and apologizing for American hubris.
The glowing words from the Nobel Peace Prize committee on Obama's worthiness are destined to fade into obscurity. Yet they serve to remind us of more prophetic words that are frightening in their ability to endure:
"The meaning of peace is the absence of resistance to socialism."
— Karl Marx
In no one is this absence more profoundly pronounced than this year's Nobel Peace Prize winner.
"His diplomacy is founded in the concept that those who are to lead the world must do so on the basis of values and attitudes that are shared by the majority of the world's population."
That's a revealing reason, given that the "majority of the world's population" (which lives under one degree of socialism or another) has been unable to match our tiny minority of the world's population in achievement that betters humanity. In science, medicine and economics, the United States has won 231 Nobel prizes. No other country has even approached 100. Britain is closest with 73. Clearly, the "values and attitudes shared by the majority of the world's population" tend not to inspire genius or achievement. Rather, the values and attitudes at the root of American liberty have proven most effective at compelling, inspiring and allowing individual greatness to manifest itself. Two-hundred and thirty-one times, at last count.
In spite of this, the Nobel Peace Prize committee has for many years honored those who stand in opposition to America and squarely in the camp of socialism — especially if they do so from within. Al Gore, in 2007, for his manufactured global warming hysteria that would, if acted upon, cripple the American economy and quash most individual freedoms. Jimmy Carter, in 2002, for his worldwide Bush-bashing tour. From outside our borders, there's Wangari Muta Maathai from Kenya for her "contribution to sustainable development," which is code for "government central planning of pretty much everything." The United Nations won in 2001 for... um... I guess their "sex for food" program. And most famously, Mikhail Gorbachev took the prize in 1990 for single-handedly winning the cold war by surrendering unconditionally to the war-mongering capitalists, Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush.
True to form, the Nobel committee again fawned over a man who wants to surrender American sovereignty, individual liberty and prosperity to the left's false religion of climate change:
"Thanks to Obama's initiative, the USA is now playing a more constructive role in meeting the great climatic challenges the world is confronting."
And so it is that Barack Obama, champion of massive government intrusion in the name of climate change, is the 2009 recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize. A man known for his peaceful takeover of the U.S. auto industry and the U.S. financial system. A man working tirelessly to peacefully take over the U.S. health care system. A man, very quietly, trying to peacefully take over the World Wide Web through his internet Czar, Susan Crawford — an ACORN-associated leftist who envisions the web as a utility like gas, water and electricity (which are, of course stringently regulated by the government). A man who has spent the better part of his presidency thus far traveling the globe and apologizing for American hubris.
The glowing words from the Nobel Peace Prize committee on Obama's worthiness are destined to fade into obscurity. Yet they serve to remind us of more prophetic words that are frightening in their ability to endure:
"The meaning of peace is the absence of resistance to socialism."
— Karl Marx
In no one is this absence more profoundly pronounced than this year's Nobel Peace Prize winner.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
The Route 22 Miracle
When I was in college, the drive from Altoona to Pittsburgh along Route 22 took two hours and steady nerves. It was mostly two lanes, and not much more than a paved pioneer trail that largely followed the Indian footpaths of antiquity up and over the Allegheny Mountains. The ascending road was often slowed by fully loaded coal trucks, but broken-yellow-lined passing zones provided the opportunity to zip past these lumbering hulks — provided the fully loaded coal trucks barreling downhill in the oncoming lane were far enough away to avoid.
Today, after billions of dollars, this section of Route 22 is almost entirely four safe, smooth lanes of relatively new concrete. Those harrowing curves have been straightened out by the simple expediency of hacking through the mountains rather than following their meandering contours. Thanks to this sizable investment and brute-force taming of nature's winding design, the trip from Altoona to Pittsburgh now takes...
Two hours.
Only in Pennsylvania.
The brakes on what should now be a much faster trip have been applied by the genius of PennDot. No fewer than 16 traffic lights have been installed along the new 22, all but a few of them on the 30 miles between Indiana and Monroeville. And in a classic example of Pennsylvania's traffic management prowess, these lights are so imperfectly synchronized that travelers see red at nearly every single one. Murrysville, which was once a mess of traffic constricted by two lanes is now a four-lane mess of traffic constricted by one red light after another. Sixty-five MPH zones through the mountains are clipped by 20 MPH in the mile or two leading up to and immediately after intersections that had never existed before — and wouldn't exist now if engineers had noticed the ample land surrounding that would make merge and turning lanes possible.
Of course, that would make sense. And this is Pennsylvania, after all.
But wait. There's more. In winter, it's not uncommon for road conditions on the new 22 over Cresson Mountain to become so severe that the road is closed and traffic is diverted to...
Wait for it...
Old Route 22 over Cresson Mountain.
In the days when this stretch of road was being built, signs bragged that the construction was providing "Jobs for Pennsylvanians." No doubt it did. In fact, were it not for constant road repair and construction projects, our unemployment rate would probably be 30%. But at some point, someone should probably remind our illustrious transportation department that roads aren't about construction jobs. They're about, well, transportation.
Maybe then, several billion dollars will actually build a more efficient road.
Don't hold your breath, though. This is Pennsylvania, after all.
Today, after billions of dollars, this section of Route 22 is almost entirely four safe, smooth lanes of relatively new concrete. Those harrowing curves have been straightened out by the simple expediency of hacking through the mountains rather than following their meandering contours. Thanks to this sizable investment and brute-force taming of nature's winding design, the trip from Altoona to Pittsburgh now takes...
Two hours.
Only in Pennsylvania.
The brakes on what should now be a much faster trip have been applied by the genius of PennDot. No fewer than 16 traffic lights have been installed along the new 22, all but a few of them on the 30 miles between Indiana and Monroeville. And in a classic example of Pennsylvania's traffic management prowess, these lights are so imperfectly synchronized that travelers see red at nearly every single one. Murrysville, which was once a mess of traffic constricted by two lanes is now a four-lane mess of traffic constricted by one red light after another. Sixty-five MPH zones through the mountains are clipped by 20 MPH in the mile or two leading up to and immediately after intersections that had never existed before — and wouldn't exist now if engineers had noticed the ample land surrounding that would make merge and turning lanes possible.
Of course, that would make sense. And this is Pennsylvania, after all.
But wait. There's more. In winter, it's not uncommon for road conditions on the new 22 over Cresson Mountain to become so severe that the road is closed and traffic is diverted to...
Wait for it...
Old Route 22 over Cresson Mountain.
In the days when this stretch of road was being built, signs bragged that the construction was providing "Jobs for Pennsylvanians." No doubt it did. In fact, were it not for constant road repair and construction projects, our unemployment rate would probably be 30%. But at some point, someone should probably remind our illustrious transportation department that roads aren't about construction jobs. They're about, well, transportation.
Maybe then, several billion dollars will actually build a more efficient road.
Don't hold your breath, though. This is Pennsylvania, after all.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Judge Upholds Eviction of Mom of 6.
That headline is from the Altoona Mirror, September 24, 2009. And one would be forgiven for asking, where's the compassion? How could he do such a heartless thing? Let's go to the story itself, because it's instructive of the kind of tragedy created (I submit, intentionally) by generations of social engineers in the inner cities. And now it's spreading to smaller towns.
Shaquita...
We pause after the first word in the story because that's the first hint that trouble's afoot. Social engineers have created an inner city culture that separates itself from (and often visibly despises) the rest of America. One demarcation line is the invention of new names. Not that there's anything wrong with creating new names in a country with 300 million people. We can only have so many "Mikes." It's just that the practice pretty much started in some of the worst communities in the country. So as soon as you hear "Shaquita," you can pretty safely guess that something bad's coming next. Rarely do you see the name "Shaquita" followed by the words, "won a prestigious award."
Shaquita Young, 28, who came to Altoona three years ago from Chicago...
She left a bustling city three years ago to come to a contracting small town with a rampant drug problem and overly generous access to welfare. That rampant drug problem started after someone in Altoona (too cowardly to step up and take credit) put the word out to New York City, New Jersey, Philly and other inner city Meccas that Housing Authority-owned dwellings in Altoona were abundant and vacant (due to lack of need). (Aside: How long do you think Altoona will be a solid Republican vote with people moving in from big city slums? Do you honestly believe that's not by design?)
... said she didn't know what she was going to do.
Young, whose children range in age from 8 months to 11 years...
Another staple of the leftist-designed inner city: illegitimate children, helping to realize Karl Marx' dream of the destruction of the traditional family. Who needs a family with a dad bringing home the bacon when the government cuts a check to replace him? This reality is learned young, as evidenced by the fact that Shaquita was a mom at 17. So she very well could have been pregnant at 16.
Let's skip down the story fo find out who fathered that child when Shaquita was 17...
She said the father of her oldest son "did terrible things" in Chicago, and in retaliation, his brother and grandmother were gunned down. She said the killings stemmed from gang activity.
I won't comment on the abject stupidity of getting knocked up by a gang banger, but focus on another staple of the social engineered inner city: the gang. An expensive yet worthless government education system produces men with no skills other than to gang up and peddle dope. And of course, vote for people who play the race card and promise more welfare or more money for inner city schools. But not school choice, of course. These inner city kids might become productive citizens who don't need welfare. Too big a risk for the political poverty pimps.
The children's fathers...
Note the plurals. Yet another result of the welfare culture and another nail in the coffin of the traditional family. ("Yay!" cried Karl Marx.)
The children's fathers do not contribute to their support.
Of course they don't. They don't have to. The government has a check ready for those kids and their mom. And if the fathers are all the caliber of daddy #1, what would they contribute? Weed?
The leaders of the American left have sold society-dividing snake oil from a bottle labeled "compassion" since the 1950s. The result: people who create not only their own hell, but one for the next generation. And the next. And the next...
Find the compassion there for me. Because frankly, I'm having a hard time finding it. And no one who looks closely can honestly see it either, especially the people who created this mess.
Everything is working out for Shaquita just the way it was designed to. I don't for a minute believe that the politicians who have peddled this "compassion" have ever thought that it would help people escape poverty. They wrapped their malicious scheme in Christian-baiting words to tug at the hearts of good people who want to help. They knew it would only expand and institutionalize poverty — and their own power.
It's working perfectly.
Shaquita...
We pause after the first word in the story because that's the first hint that trouble's afoot. Social engineers have created an inner city culture that separates itself from (and often visibly despises) the rest of America. One demarcation line is the invention of new names. Not that there's anything wrong with creating new names in a country with 300 million people. We can only have so many "Mikes." It's just that the practice pretty much started in some of the worst communities in the country. So as soon as you hear "Shaquita," you can pretty safely guess that something bad's coming next. Rarely do you see the name "Shaquita" followed by the words, "won a prestigious award."
Shaquita Young, 28, who came to Altoona three years ago from Chicago...
She left a bustling city three years ago to come to a contracting small town with a rampant drug problem and overly generous access to welfare. That rampant drug problem started after someone in Altoona (too cowardly to step up and take credit) put the word out to New York City, New Jersey, Philly and other inner city Meccas that Housing Authority-owned dwellings in Altoona were abundant and vacant (due to lack of need). (Aside: How long do you think Altoona will be a solid Republican vote with people moving in from big city slums? Do you honestly believe that's not by design?)
... said she didn't know what she was going to do.
Young, whose children range in age from 8 months to 11 years...
Another staple of the leftist-designed inner city: illegitimate children, helping to realize Karl Marx' dream of the destruction of the traditional family. Who needs a family with a dad bringing home the bacon when the government cuts a check to replace him? This reality is learned young, as evidenced by the fact that Shaquita was a mom at 17. So she very well could have been pregnant at 16.
Let's skip down the story fo find out who fathered that child when Shaquita was 17...
She said the father of her oldest son "did terrible things" in Chicago, and in retaliation, his brother and grandmother were gunned down. She said the killings stemmed from gang activity.
I won't comment on the abject stupidity of getting knocked up by a gang banger, but focus on another staple of the social engineered inner city: the gang. An expensive yet worthless government education system produces men with no skills other than to gang up and peddle dope. And of course, vote for people who play the race card and promise more welfare or more money for inner city schools. But not school choice, of course. These inner city kids might become productive citizens who don't need welfare. Too big a risk for the political poverty pimps.
The children's fathers...
Note the plurals. Yet another result of the welfare culture and another nail in the coffin of the traditional family. ("Yay!" cried Karl Marx.)
The children's fathers do not contribute to their support.
Of course they don't. They don't have to. The government has a check ready for those kids and their mom. And if the fathers are all the caliber of daddy #1, what would they contribute? Weed?
The leaders of the American left have sold society-dividing snake oil from a bottle labeled "compassion" since the 1950s. The result: people who create not only their own hell, but one for the next generation. And the next. And the next...
Find the compassion there for me. Because frankly, I'm having a hard time finding it. And no one who looks closely can honestly see it either, especially the people who created this mess.
Everything is working out for Shaquita just the way it was designed to. I don't for a minute believe that the politicians who have peddled this "compassion" have ever thought that it would help people escape poverty. They wrapped their malicious scheme in Christian-baiting words to tug at the hearts of good people who want to help. They knew it would only expand and institutionalize poverty — and their own power.
It's working perfectly.
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