I was hit by two nasty, sneaky, time-consuming infections this week. Computer virus and cold virus. One I've licked, the other I haven't kicked. Guess which. Achoo!
There may be hailstones. I have a sturdy umbrella. In adversity, I swim along like a fish upstream. And when I reach the shallows, there will be others. Nature is a superb engineer that has built redundancy into all her systems.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
The Old Have It Best
I had been suffering from a cold for a few days, but woke up this morning feeling better. The following reflection wasn't really a dream, but any thought just upon waking could be the conclusion or resolution of a dream, so I classify it as a dream. The quaint language gives me the impression it's paraphrased poetry that I read. Lately I have been reading a book about Shakespeare, "1599", that refers to playwrights flattering the elderly Queen Elizabeth. She was said to have been vain about her appearance even to the end.
Between old and young, the old have it best. The old have seized their days in the Sun. Not disease, poverty or injustice can take those days away from them. Their joys are writ upon the Book of Days forever and ever. The young cannot say which card Fate will turn over next. And if the world ends tomorrow, the old have had the most, while the young barely supped from the cup of life.
Between old and young, the old have it best. The old have seized their days in the Sun. Not disease, poverty or injustice can take those days away from them. Their joys are writ upon the Book of Days forever and ever. The young cannot say which card Fate will turn over next. And if the world ends tomorrow, the old have had the most, while the young barely supped from the cup of life.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
White Room
A vague dream just before waking had me in a white room with two women who were talking with me about innocuous subjects, one close enough to put her arm around my shoulder, the other watching the two of us from a distance. I didn't know the watcher, but seemed to know the closer one who moved ever closer, becoming affectionate without any concern for the woman watching us. I did not decide how to respond until late, and then I moved away, because it was not the proper time or place and it was not a good idea either.
When I woke up, I concluded she was an attractive fellow student, my age, from school, who had made a point of speaking with me before and after class, piling on enough flattery to make me wonder what she was trying to sell me, until one day when I mentioned in passing but on purpose that I was going to visit a friend and identified the friend with a feminine pronoun, which eliminated her interest. (The friend was only a friend, a point left unmentioned.)
Most students in the nursing program were female, and that's one reason that I'd recommend the study of nursing to any single straight man. However, I'd be careful which school is chosen. Some are wastes of time and money, with too stringent a selection process. I invested a year of study, fees for stupid things like sports I don't play, and outrageous prices for textbooks, with nothing to show for it at the end, despite my straight A's, but dreams like this*.
When I woke up, I concluded she was an attractive fellow student, my age, from school, who had made a point of speaking with me before and after class, piling on enough flattery to make me wonder what she was trying to sell me, until one day when I mentioned in passing but on purpose that I was going to visit a friend and identified the friend with a feminine pronoun, which eliminated her interest. (The friend was only a friend, a point left unmentioned.)
Most students in the nursing program were female, and that's one reason that I'd recommend the study of nursing to any single straight man. However, I'd be careful which school is chosen. Some are wastes of time and money, with too stringent a selection process. I invested a year of study, fees for stupid things like sports I don't play, and outrageous prices for textbooks, with nothing to show for it at the end, despite my straight A's, but dreams like this*.
* I also know about neutrophils, lymphocytes, monocytes, eosinophils, & basophils, remembered by the immortal mnemonic, Never Let Monkeys Eat Bananas.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Syrian Virtus
I see something of the ancient Roman virtue in the Syrian protesters who are willing to die for freedom, even marching unarmed into a hail of bullets.
Assad has long since lost whatever credibility he may have once had. He should be recognized all over the world* as a peer of Khadaffy. Whoever the Alawite are, whatever their religion is (and that is by no means clear), their history is bloodstained. Where is the religion whose followers have not committed atrocities? Possibly the Amish.
Assad has long since lost whatever credibility he may have once had. He should be recognized all over the world* as a peer of Khadaffy. Whoever the Alawite are, whatever their religion is (and that is by no means clear), their history is bloodstained. Where is the religion whose followers have not committed atrocities? Possibly the Amish.
* with the possible exception of followers of Iran's immoral regime.
Made in China
This is what Made in China is all about. One day, the U.S. may wish to challenge China, a fascist state made strong by our purchases of its exports. Our good-paying jobs and the jobs of our children were sacrificed in exchange for goods of short duration that are sometimes toxic. Long ago, western leaders succumbed to the siren song of free trade with slave nations in order to satisfy businessmen that saw a potential for short-term profits.
Greed is the main problem with suits. They don't fully appreciate objectives outside of their own personal enrichment. There needs to be a counter-balance coexisting along with the capitalists, a wise governor at the helm that looks ahead twenty years from now. Where was that wise man? He was missing. Instead there was another suit at the helm playing golf with the other suits and doing their bidding.
Greed is the main problem with suits. They don't fully appreciate objectives outside of their own personal enrichment. There needs to be a counter-balance coexisting along with the capitalists, a wise governor at the helm that looks ahead twenty years from now. Where was that wise man? He was missing. Instead there was another suit at the helm playing golf with the other suits and doing their bidding.
Nutrition Info
I use this web site for finding out the nutritional value of any food. I had been eating mangoes every day this week, but became concerned that I might not be getting enough vitamin C. Not all fruits have vitamin C, and I wasn't sure about mangoes. According to the above site, mangoes are rich in vitamin C.
However, I'm not yet satisfied that self.com gives accurate info. A discrepancy exists between the vitamin C content of bananas as reported by Wikipedia and the amount reported by self.com. Which is accurate? I hope for the more optimistic assessment. Also, a search on self.com for "peas" brings up meals with numerous constituent parts, such as "Baby Food, boiled, with peas, carrots, ham, oats," but the results are suspect, as the nutritional value of such meals depend upon the manufacturer, method of preparation, serving size, and the proportions of ingredients.
However, I'm not yet satisfied that self.com gives accurate info. A discrepancy exists between the vitamin C content of bananas as reported by Wikipedia and the amount reported by self.com. Which is accurate? I hope for the more optimistic assessment. Also, a search on self.com for "peas" brings up meals with numerous constituent parts, such as "Baby Food, boiled, with peas, carrots, ham, oats," but the results are suspect, as the nutritional value of such meals depend upon the manufacturer, method of preparation, serving size, and the proportions of ingredients.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Insecticide
The use of certain household pesticides has been linked to lower working memory capacity in kids.
For an insecticide, I'm partial to boric acid, which has been in use for a very long time and seems safer on the whole than other chemicals. I think that long historical usage by humans is a good indicator as to a substance's safety. If something has only been in use for half a century, then it is unlikely all the effects are known. Boric acid is not difficult to come by. It is sold at many grocery stores and Home Depot in one form or another. It's cheaper than more toxic alternatives. A year's supply for an average family should cost about $8. It is effective against a wide variety of crawling insects.
For an insecticide, I'm partial to boric acid, which has been in use for a very long time and seems safer on the whole than other chemicals. I think that long historical usage by humans is a good indicator as to a substance's safety. If something has only been in use for half a century, then it is unlikely all the effects are known. Boric acid is not difficult to come by. It is sold at many grocery stores and Home Depot in one form or another. It's cheaper than more toxic alternatives. A year's supply for an average family should cost about $8. It is effective against a wide variety of crawling insects.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Happy 4/20
Here's wishing a happy 4/20 to all those who appreciate cannabis. One day, the herb will be accepted again for all of its many uses, as it was for thousands of years.
Go to College, Work Hard, and Remain Under-employed
A timely opinion piece in the New York Times expresses my sentiments about today's job market, where a college education means nothing, wages and benefits are slashed, and employers seek interns for free and don't hire them at the end of their volunteer term. Meanwhile, Republicans want to spend more on war and less on the people. What's new?
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Time Travelling
If I could travel in time for a single day, I'd go back in time rather than forward in time. The future seems unreal to me. I like analyzing, interpreting and drawing conclusions, and that is easier with the past, when facts are known, than in the uncertain and ever-changing future, when I might not be. I'd like to go back thirty years to share what I know now with the individual that I was then. It would be a dicey affair, visiting myself. How would my past Self interpret such a visitation? I suppose there are ways that I could prove to my past Self that I was who I said I was, but such an intrusion would be unsettling.
I remember having had certain thoughts and feelings which seemed borrowed from a much later period of life, possibly premonitions. There was nothing specific that I could really sink my teeth into, only whisperings of the future and of certain paths that could be taken in the most ambiguous and general terms. I did not know the source, whether intuitive, spirit or telepath, and it seemed unwise to encourage such trespasses, so I shutdown the avenue of communication and listened no more. Perhaps it would have been better to listen more.
Of course, if I could go back in time, I'd carry as much gold with me as possible in order to liquidate and purchase stock in Microsoft, Wal-Mart, Toyota, and Honda. Even a $10,000 investment would have made me a rich man, I think, thirty years later. I don't know how I would have managed all the necessary business transactions in a single day. Another thing on the "must-do" list would be to attempt contact with the President of the United States via a written letter, easy enough to do. I would write down things that will occur in the next couple months or years in order to validate my authenticity, and then things that will occur later, to help the President craft public policy.
I remember having had certain thoughts and feelings which seemed borrowed from a much later period of life, possibly premonitions. There was nothing specific that I could really sink my teeth into, only whisperings of the future and of certain paths that could be taken in the most ambiguous and general terms. I did not know the source, whether intuitive, spirit or telepath, and it seemed unwise to encourage such trespasses, so I shutdown the avenue of communication and listened no more. Perhaps it would have been better to listen more.
Of course, if I could go back in time, I'd carry as much gold with me as possible in order to liquidate and purchase stock in Microsoft, Wal-Mart, Toyota, and Honda. Even a $10,000 investment would have made me a rich man, I think, thirty years later. I don't know how I would have managed all the necessary business transactions in a single day. Another thing on the "must-do" list would be to attempt contact with the President of the United States via a written letter, easy enough to do. I would write down things that will occur in the next couple months or years in order to validate my authenticity, and then things that will occur later, to help the President craft public policy.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Special Delivery
The case of the pooping postman is funny because it is unexpected.
I'd be willing to look the other way for a price. A fee of $100 would be required. If he didn't have $100 on hand, he'd have to go to the ATM and come back at the end of his shift.
Same scenario transpired two years ago when the neighbor's tree-cutter felled a tree onto my property, devastating a bush. Inspired by mafia taxation on The Sopranos, I exacted a $50 fee, in cash, on the spot. Higher rates apply for public defecation. I'd offer a twenty-five percent discount if the postman were Asian Indian, because I understand public defecation is the norm in India.
I'd be willing to look the other way for a price. A fee of $100 would be required. If he didn't have $100 on hand, he'd have to go to the ATM and come back at the end of his shift.
Same scenario transpired two years ago when the neighbor's tree-cutter felled a tree onto my property, devastating a bush. Inspired by mafia taxation on The Sopranos, I exacted a $50 fee, in cash, on the spot. Higher rates apply for public defecation. I'd offer a twenty-five percent discount if the postman were Asian Indian, because I understand public defecation is the norm in India.
Free Photos of Outer Space
A web site at Berkeley University offers free recent photos of outer space.
No geek has branded any text to the pictures this time, which means the pictures might serve as desktop wallpaper or as part of a screen saver rotation.
No geek has branded any text to the pictures this time, which means the pictures might serve as desktop wallpaper or as part of a screen saver rotation.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
The Unwelcome Mr. Reaper
The Grim Reaper is an entity never far from my thoughts. I often imagine what it will be like to die, what will happen afterward to this collection of cells, and what will happen to the ones that I care about, who are few in number, and the ones that I'm acquainted with, a much greater number, and the human race as a whole, which encompasses everyone now living and those yet to arrive.
The physical aspect of death is scary enough. I imagine the worst pain I've ever experienced and multiply it tenfold. The thought of such pain is terrifying. Fear is enough for most people to avoid potentially fatal situations such as playing "chicken" with speeding cars. Worse is knowing, right before the end, that there will be no second chances, that the change is irreversible. I am reminded of the sad look on my Grandmother's face when she was in the hospital. She knew she was going to die and said little. But I have no doubt she would have liked to get better, even if it meant giving up the use of an arm or leg, or even both arms and both legs, anything to live a bit longer. She would very much have liked to have relocated her consciousness to another body, not displacing anyone, but cohabiting. I would gladly have hosted her consciousness, although radical adjustments would have been necessary on both sides. Perhaps the technology for such an arrangement will become available in the future, too late for my readers and me.
As for physical remains, it is humbling to accept that this body that one has taken such pains to keep clean, whole and fortified will become food for microorganisms and insects or else burnt to ashes. There is an insane fear that one might regain consciousness at a late state of decomposition to discover that one's nose, mouth or eyeballs are being devoured by worms. It is distressing to imagine other people coming upon one's corpse and being grossed out, even nauseated by the sight or smell. How embarrassing! But then, where will the embarrassment originate?
As for my dear friends, which is to say, my family and partner, the "leave" is all-important. That is, the manner and state in which I departed would be the essential thing. I would want to feel like I did well, not leaving things undone that needed to be done, and not doing things that should not be done. One does not wish to be despised, with people pissing on one's grave, but mourned truly as a genuine loss and recognized, if not as a hero, then as a basically good fellow no worse than any other sort. That is why no one should envy such villains as Khadaffy, who though rich and well-known, will not be mourned by anyone in possession of a conscience.
As for my acquaintances, those that knew me at a distance, I like to imagine what might be said in confidence. I doubt much would be said at all, because I do not think I made a great impression on anyone really. People tend not to remember the things that I said or did, but to ignore me for the most part, as though I were already a ghost. I expect that after uttering a general platitude, most would dismiss every thought of me from their mind. Thus, I would be forgotten, just as most of the dead are. Only the best and the worst of people are remembered, and I'm neither, but somewhere in the middle ranks. Even the best and the worst, they too will be forgotten if there's truth in the precognition below.
For the human race as a whole, I'm pessimistic, because I believe that man's mastery of technology overwhelms his feeble moral compass, and I also believe that this disparity will result in the annihilation of intelligent life on earth. Surviving will be microorganisms, plants and small creatures. Perhaps there is time remaining in our solar system for another process of evolution on this planet. But it may be billions of years before another intelligent species arises. Traces of humankind will linger in outer space, perhaps, and in certain areas of the earth. Another intelligent species with an appreciation for archeology may unearth our bones one day.
The physical aspect of death is scary enough. I imagine the worst pain I've ever experienced and multiply it tenfold. The thought of such pain is terrifying. Fear is enough for most people to avoid potentially fatal situations such as playing "chicken" with speeding cars. Worse is knowing, right before the end, that there will be no second chances, that the change is irreversible. I am reminded of the sad look on my Grandmother's face when she was in the hospital. She knew she was going to die and said little. But I have no doubt she would have liked to get better, even if it meant giving up the use of an arm or leg, or even both arms and both legs, anything to live a bit longer. She would very much have liked to have relocated her consciousness to another body, not displacing anyone, but cohabiting. I would gladly have hosted her consciousness, although radical adjustments would have been necessary on both sides. Perhaps the technology for such an arrangement will become available in the future, too late for my readers and me.
As for physical remains, it is humbling to accept that this body that one has taken such pains to keep clean, whole and fortified will become food for microorganisms and insects or else burnt to ashes. There is an insane fear that one might regain consciousness at a late state of decomposition to discover that one's nose, mouth or eyeballs are being devoured by worms. It is distressing to imagine other people coming upon one's corpse and being grossed out, even nauseated by the sight or smell. How embarrassing! But then, where will the embarrassment originate?
As for my dear friends, which is to say, my family and partner, the "leave" is all-important. That is, the manner and state in which I departed would be the essential thing. I would want to feel like I did well, not leaving things undone that needed to be done, and not doing things that should not be done. One does not wish to be despised, with people pissing on one's grave, but mourned truly as a genuine loss and recognized, if not as a hero, then as a basically good fellow no worse than any other sort. That is why no one should envy such villains as Khadaffy, who though rich and well-known, will not be mourned by anyone in possession of a conscience.
As for my acquaintances, those that knew me at a distance, I like to imagine what might be said in confidence. I doubt much would be said at all, because I do not think I made a great impression on anyone really. People tend not to remember the things that I said or did, but to ignore me for the most part, as though I were already a ghost. I expect that after uttering a general platitude, most would dismiss every thought of me from their mind. Thus, I would be forgotten, just as most of the dead are. Only the best and the worst of people are remembered, and I'm neither, but somewhere in the middle ranks. Even the best and the worst, they too will be forgotten if there's truth in the precognition below.
For the human race as a whole, I'm pessimistic, because I believe that man's mastery of technology overwhelms his feeble moral compass, and I also believe that this disparity will result in the annihilation of intelligent life on earth. Surviving will be microorganisms, plants and small creatures. Perhaps there is time remaining in our solar system for another process of evolution on this planet. But it may be billions of years before another intelligent species arises. Traces of humankind will linger in outer space, perhaps, and in certain areas of the earth. Another intelligent species with an appreciation for archeology may unearth our bones one day.
Mutations are Good for You
I've said it before, and I'll say it again--mutations are good for you. Go ahead and drink that potion of mutation without a second's hesitation. If it turns ill for you, then double down by drinking another one, followed by a third and a fourth. In my experience, bad mutations tend not to be so very bad (-10% MP for a warrior? Pschaw!) whereas good mutations tend to be very good indeed, as shown below:
I always seek the altar of Jiyva, the God of Acid, whocauses hallucinations has the power to cure bad mutations and grant beneficial mutations, which is highly desirable, as potions of cure mutation are scarce. But I haven't had much luck in locating an altar in the lower levels. Typically, my characters choose Okarawu instead, whose altars are easier to locate.
I always seek the altar of Jiyva, the God of Acid, who
Okarawu's Secret
Unlike the Troglodyte God, the wise Okarawu takes into consideration his worshippers' aptitudes, or so it would seem.
Press 'm' to access the Abilities Menu and then turn off the Throwing ability in order to minimize skill acquisition in that area, which will also minimize the chance that Okarawu will gift your character a trivial pack of darts or needles. Preferred are Okarawu's armour and melee weapons.
Employing this strategy created favorable auspices for the following gift, which can serve as a primary melee weapon even in the deepest level of Hell:
Press 'm' to access the Abilities Menu and then turn off the Throwing ability in order to minimize skill acquisition in that area, which will also minimize the chance that Okarawu will gift your character a trivial pack of darts or needles. Preferred are Okarawu's armour and melee weapons.
Employing this strategy created favorable auspices for the following gift, which can serve as a primary melee weapon even in the deepest level of Hell:
Friday, April 8, 2011
Mitch Hedburg
I saw a video of a standup act with the comedian Mitch Hedburg tonight. He's unique among standups. He delivers without eye contact, staring at the floor or hiding his eyes behind his long (for a man) blonde hair. One can't decide whether he's witty or crazy; smart or moronic. His deadpan delivery in a rhythmic sing-song voice makes him funny. He expresses nonchalance, weariness with the world and irony. I think we've all known a Mitch Hedburg or else posed as one in high school or college.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
The Perfect Meal
The perfect meal consists of two sandwiches of whole-grain toast with chunks of avocado served with black or green tea.
It takes all of five minutes to make, but for my money there's nothing more delicious in the world. The only catch is that the avocado has to be a Haas and has to be perfectly ripe. It's time to snack when the skin is black.
Cost? Haas avocado, $1.49 or so; a loaf of whole-grain bread is only $1.25 at the thrift store, which is the place to go to buy cheap bread. Tea is so cheap that it is not worth itemizing--or should be so. We do live in good and prosperous times, all things considered, do we not?
It takes all of five minutes to make, but for my money there's nothing more delicious in the world. The only catch is that the avocado has to be a Haas and has to be perfectly ripe. It's time to snack when the skin is black.
Cost? Haas avocado, $1.49 or so; a loaf of whole-grain bread is only $1.25 at the thrift store, which is the place to go to buy cheap bread. Tea is so cheap that it is not worth itemizing--or should be so. We do live in good and prosperous times, all things considered, do we not?
Saturday, April 2, 2011
News Gives a False Impression
The world's headlines today were suboptimal as usual. Twelve or more UN workers were killed by a mob in Afghanistan. A Catholic policeman was killed in Northern Ireland. The Libya conflict continues with no apparent end in sight. Japan is coping with radiation.
I have some ideas of my own about some of these stories. In regard to Afghanistan, I find it difficult to believe a mob became bloodthirsty just because of a small-time hick preacher in Florida burning a Koran. That is B.S., no way Jose do I believe for even one second that Afghani civilians would kill twelve U.N. workers over that. (What does the U.N. have to do with it?) I think, instead, the Taliban infiltrated a mob of offended people who might have wanted to demonstrate and let their feelings be known, but I don't think most of the people actually wanted to commit murder of random foreigners that have no connection to Pastor Putz, or at least I hope not. Maybe I'm mistaken. As for Northern Ireland, I'm willing to bet the cop was targeted because he was honest and wouldn't join the other cops that are collaborating with local hoods. I have a need to assign rational motives to irrational deeds. Again, I could be mistaken.
At any rate, there were millions of stories that went unreported in today's news. For instance, it was a beautiful day where I live, and people I saw out on the street looked nice and happy, like they were having a good time. Whenever I read the negative stories in the media, I remind myself that in ancient times such stories were commonplace, even trite. Mobs arose and slew governors, senators, and anyone they could get their hands on. Rebellions were sometimes successful, usually not though, and reprisals were severe and deadly, all over the world, through all times. Khadaffy has no monopoly on ruthlessness. He is just doing what wicked old kings have done since before Hammurabi. I accuse Khadaffy of failing to abide by the rudiments of the Western Enlightenment, and yes, I do think it is unforgivable, because knowledge and history are immediately accessible to someone of his means. I don't forgive any greedy selfish dictator who cares only about his personal power. They don't deserve being forgiven. If I were a dictator, I would at least attempt to improve the lot of my people. Why are there no benevolent dictators, like the Philosopher-King described by Plato? Why did Khadaffy have to be evil, lazy, stupid, ignorant, and delusional? I see the truth in Lord Acton's dictum, power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
I consoled myself with an anthology of Oscar Wilde's short stories, yarns he used to spin for dinner parties and the like. He never actually wrote them down, but others did, his enthralled listeners.
I have some ideas of my own about some of these stories. In regard to Afghanistan, I find it difficult to believe a mob became bloodthirsty just because of a small-time hick preacher in Florida burning a Koran. That is B.S., no way Jose do I believe for even one second that Afghani civilians would kill twelve U.N. workers over that. (What does the U.N. have to do with it?) I think, instead, the Taliban infiltrated a mob of offended people who might have wanted to demonstrate and let their feelings be known, but I don't think most of the people actually wanted to commit murder of random foreigners that have no connection to Pastor Putz, or at least I hope not. Maybe I'm mistaken. As for Northern Ireland, I'm willing to bet the cop was targeted because he was honest and wouldn't join the other cops that are collaborating with local hoods. I have a need to assign rational motives to irrational deeds. Again, I could be mistaken.
At any rate, there were millions of stories that went unreported in today's news. For instance, it was a beautiful day where I live, and people I saw out on the street looked nice and happy, like they were having a good time. Whenever I read the negative stories in the media, I remind myself that in ancient times such stories were commonplace, even trite. Mobs arose and slew governors, senators, and anyone they could get their hands on. Rebellions were sometimes successful, usually not though, and reprisals were severe and deadly, all over the world, through all times. Khadaffy has no monopoly on ruthlessness. He is just doing what wicked old kings have done since before Hammurabi. I accuse Khadaffy of failing to abide by the rudiments of the Western Enlightenment, and yes, I do think it is unforgivable, because knowledge and history are immediately accessible to someone of his means. I don't forgive any greedy selfish dictator who cares only about his personal power. They don't deserve being forgiven. If I were a dictator, I would at least attempt to improve the lot of my people. Why are there no benevolent dictators, like the Philosopher-King described by Plato? Why did Khadaffy have to be evil, lazy, stupid, ignorant, and delusional? I see the truth in Lord Acton's dictum, power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
I consoled myself with an anthology of Oscar Wilde's short stories, yarns he used to spin for dinner parties and the like. He never actually wrote them down, but others did, his enthralled listeners.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Too True
I have to agree with this column in the Holland Sentinel. It's all true. I've spoken with too many fellow workers that voted for right-wingers. They voted for people that were serving the interest of the very rich as if they, themselves, were the very rich. I guess they were living in some kind of Fantasy Land. Now the chickens are coming home to roost. Good jobs are becoming as scarce as unicorns. Funny thing is, I don't think the voting patterns have changed much. If anything, 2010 showed that the trend is firmly ingrained.
An Idea for the Tea Party
An obvious way to cut government spending would be to end the drug war. That would save many billions of dollars. That no one of any note in the Tea Party seems to be suggesting such a thing indicates that the Tea Party is not serious about cutting spending. They are just rehashing the same old Republican notions--drop billions on warfare, including war against U.S. citizens, and play the Scrooge on the social programs. Same old same old G.O.P. Ho-hum.
Drugs were legal prior to the 1930s, yet somehow the U.S. managed to survive and even prosper. The Prohibitionists apparently believe that something changed in the U.S. around the 1930s, requiring the citizens to be policed, even in their own homes, regarding which substances they choose to use.
Drugs were legal prior to the 1930s, yet somehow the U.S. managed to survive and even prosper. The Prohibitionists apparently believe that something changed in the U.S. around the 1930s, requiring the citizens to be policed, even in their own homes, regarding which substances they choose to use.
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