Tag Archives: Reblog

The Walk of Shame (By the Lincoln Project)

Nobel Prize Award in Chemistry Honors a Revolution

The End of the American Era

Anthropologist Wade Davis, of the University of BC, wrote an amazing piece in Rolling Stone a couple months ago called “The Unraveling of America”. I hope you’ll read the full article HERE. Here is my paraphrased summary.

No empire long endures, even if few anticipate their demise. Every kingdom is born to die.

The 15th century belonged to the Portuguese, the 16th to Spain, 17th to the Dutch. France dominated the 18th and Britain the 19th.

Bled white and left bankrupt by the Great War, the British maintained a pretense of domination as late as 1935, when the empire reached its greatest geographical extent. By then, of course, the torch had long passed into the hands of America.

The United States never stood down in the wake of WWII victory. To this day, American troops are deployed in 150 countries. Since the 1970’s, China has not once gone to war; the US has not spent a day at peace. President Jimmy Carter has noted that in its 242-year history, America has enjoyed only 16 years of peace, making it, as he wrote, “the most warlike nation in the history of the world.”

Since 2001, the US has spent over $6 trillion on military operations and war, money that might have been invested in the infrastructure of home. China, meanwhile, built its nation, pouring more cement every three years than America did in the entire 20th century.

With the COVID crisis, 40 million Americans have lost their jobs, and 33 million businesses have shut down, including 41 percent of all black-owned enterprises. 

COVID-19 has not laid America low; it has simply revealed what has long been forsaken. As the crisis unfolds, with another American dying every minute of every day, a country that once turned out fighter planes by the hour could not manage to produce the paper masks or cotton swabs essential for tracking the disease. The nation that defeated smallpox and polio, and led the world for generations in medical innovation and discovery, has been reduced to a laughing stock as a buffoon of a president advocates the use of household disinfectants as a treatment for a disease that intellectually he can not begin to understand.

Trump’s performance and America’s crisis deflected attention from China’s own mishandling of the initial outbreak in Wuhan, not to mention its move to crush democracy in Hong Kong.

Odious as he may be, Trump is less the cause of America’s decline than a product of its descent. As they stare into the mirror and perceive only the myth of their exceptionalism, Americans remain almost bizarrely incapable of seeing what has actually become of their country. The republic that defined the free flow of information as the life blood of democracy, today ranks 45th among nations when it comes to press freedom. 

How can the rest of the world expect America to lead on global threats — climate change, the extinction crisis, pandemics — when the country no longer has a sense of benign purpose, or collective well-being, even within its own national community? 

Asked what he thought of Western civilization Mahatma Gandhi famously replied, “I think that would be a good idea.” Such a remark may seem cruel, but it accurately reflects the view of America today as seen from the perspective of any modern social democracy. 

Oscar Wilde once quipped that the United States was the only country to go from barbarism to decadence without passing through civilization.

Evidence of such terminal decadence is the choice that so many Americans made in 2016 to prioritize their personal indignation, placing their own resentments above any concerns for the fate of the country and the world, as they rushed to elect a man whose only credential for the job was his willingness to give voice to their hatreds, validate their anger, and target their enemies, real or imagined.

One shudders to think of what it will mean to the world if Americans in November, knowing all that they do, elect to keep such a man in political power. But even should Trump be resoundingly defeated, it’s not at all clear that such a profoundly polarized nation will be able to find a way forward. For better or for worse, America has had its time. 

The end of the American era and the passing of the torch to Asia is no occasion for celebration, no time to gloat. If and when the Chinese are ascendant, with their concentration camps for the Uighur, the ruthless reach of their military, their 200 million surveillance cameras watching every move and gesture of their people, we will surely long for the best years of the American century.

If that’s not sad enough, perhaps you’d like to hear what Don Henley says in a song originally written on the ascendance of Ronald Reagan. It is even more sadly true today.

Fandango’s Flashback Friday

We’ve been asked to reblog a post from this date in a previous year. Here is a post of October 9, 2014.

Sunday Stills: Water

DSCF1721DSC09971DSCF1189IMG_0745DSC08938DSCF1665DSCF1205DSC00313 DSC00153 - Version 3

My water-themed pictures were taken at la Manzanilla beach, the Amazon River in Peru, Candelabra Island in Peru and my own pool/terrace overlooking Lake Chapala in Mexico.  Obviously, I couldn’t choose and actually could have posted hundreds more.  Water seems to be my “thing.”

 

 

 

For Fandango’s Flashback Friday.

Expanding the Definition of “Pro-Life” — annieasksyou…

I am reblogging this excellent essay by Annie that states succinctly what many of us have been thinking and gives some hope that what we have been thinking is finally being given a voice and more importantly, being heard.

I noticed it first when I watched Elizabeth Neumann speak about her reasons for resigning from her position as the Department of Homeland Security Assistant Secretary of Threat Prevention and Security Policy. She was tasked with following right-wing threats inside the United States, and she emphatically stated that President Trump had made her job harder.

Expanding the Definition of “Pro-Life” — annieasksyou…

Well Worth Watching: Wake Up Call

Death of a Senator

While walking down the street one day a corrupt Senator was hit by an automobile and tragically died.

His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.

“Welcome to heaven,” says St. Peter. “Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we’re not sure what to do with you.”

“No problem, just let me in,” says the Senator.

“Well, I’d like to, but I have orders from the higher ups. What we’ll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity.”

“Really?, I’ve made up my mind. I want to be in heaven,” says the Senator.

“I’m sorry, but we have our rules.”

And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell.

The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him.

Everyone is very happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people.
They played a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and the finest champagne.

Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly guy who is having a good time dancing and telling jokes.

They are all having such a good time that before the Senator realizes it, it is time to go.

Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises.

The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens in heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him, “Now it’s time to visit heaven…

So, 24 hours passed with the Senator joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.

“Well, then, you’ve spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity.”

The Senator reflects for a minute, then he answers: “Well, I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell.”

So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell…

Now the doors of the elevator open and he’s in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags as more trash falls from above

The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulders.

“I don’t understand,” stammers the Senator. “Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there’s just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable. What happened?”

The devil smiles at him and says,

“Yesterday we were campaigning, Today, you voted..”

Vote wisely in November 2020

 

Thanks to my friend Joan for sending me this joke!

 

Rat Receives Gold Medal for Bravery in Cambodia

Read why by clicking on the link below. Amazing story:

https://replica.seattletimes.com/popovers/dynamic_article_popover.aspx?artguid=e6052ee1-8cf6-4aeb-b124-323169ef0a3e

Fundy Foibles

My friend Noreen sent me this story that she had read on Facebook. It is about an experience a man named Grant Hatcher recently had while motorcycling in Nova Scotia and since it equates in location to a frustrating story of my own, I’m reblogging it here, along with a link to my own story.

Below is a link to Grant Hatcher’s Facebook page. Read the story there if you can, then come back and read my story HERE.

https://www.facebook.com/grant.hatcher.3/posts/10158364266116253

If that link doesn’t work for you because you don’t belong to Facebook, read his story below:

Just had a wonderful time home in Cape Breton, but the start of the trip was certainly far from “smooth” sailing, let me tell you… 
I was in a rush leaving Halifax. Didn’t get out the door until about 7pm and it gets dark around 8:30pm. I was taking my motorbike and wasn’t feeling like riding at night so I figured I’d get somewhere outside Truro, head down a rural road and find a place to camp. 
After driving for an hour I pulled up to the Noell Shore, just outside Truro. It’s raining a little bit and it’s getting quite dark, so I’m a bit anxious to get my tent set up. 
I find what “appears” to be a great spot! The ground is perfectly flat and grassy. I can see this muddy channel about 12 feet below where I’m setting my tent up, this must be where the tide comes in. It’d be nice to wake up next to the ocean, just relax, no big rush to get on the go the next day. Perfect!
Before I continue, it’s important to note here that when you really want something you are prone to ignore the signs of why having this something could actually be a bad thing. For example: fall in love and you may ignore all the obvious red flags this new person has because you’re all caught up in the tingle-wingles and you want that to continue. In my situation I just really wanted to set up my tent and go to sleep. Now let’s continue.
The place I choose “seems” like the perfect spot except for a couple of things.
Thing #1) The grass is long like beach grass but it’s all completely flat. “Why is all this Grass flat?” I ask myself. “Grass normally grows straight up.” So this is weird…
Thing #2) The ground is a little squishy under my boots as I walk. Also a little strange…
“But hey, it did rain a bit earlier!” I say to myself, but not enough to make it this squishy…
Thing #3) I decided to taste the grass.Yes, I tasted the grass. And… it tasted VERY salty…
Very suspicious. “That muddy channel over there is where the ocean comes in at, the grass here probably gets some ocean spray. That explains it!” I convince myself… 
Now, MAYBE if it wasn’t so late, I wasn’t so tired, it wasn’t trickling rain, then I would have set up somewhere else, just in case. Maybe. 
I looked around one final time. “Could the tide really come up here? It’s all grass, there’s no way.” I look around and don’t see a single piece of driftwood, not a shell or anything that the ocean tides normally bring in. 
Nothing.
Just a bunch of weird ass, salty ass, flat grass…. 
So I set up my tent and climb in for the night. I was exhausted and passed out quite quickly. 
All is good in the world, until….
I wake up at 4am to a due drop that falls from the top of the tent and hits me directly in the forehead. It startled me awake, but tents collect due, no biggie. I go to roll over to readjust my sleeping position and at that precise moment I realized something was not right. 
Not right at all… lol
NOW… before we continue, I need to fill you in on the fact that I had just bought myself a BRAND NEW tent from MEC. In the past I’ve bought cheap tents from places like Walmart and Canadian Tire, but I do camp a fair bit so I decided to get a good one this time around. Nice and WATERPROOF… So let’s continue. 
Due drop to the forehead. Readjust my body. “Wait… WTF is going on?!”
My aunt Karen used to have a waterbed back in the day and it’s the ONLY comparable sensation. It was 4am, I was still in my tent, I was dry… but I was also floating…
Did I forget to mention that I did not peg my tent down? Yeah…. I didn’t 
After a moment of pure shock I INSTANTLY realize what happened. The tide came in and I am in my tent on top of the Atlantic Ocean….
I felt like Cornelius Fudge from Harry Potter and The Order of the Pheonix when he finally saw Voldemort for the first time and he’s like “He’s back!” Yeah, no shit Cornelius, DIDN’T YOU SEE ALL THE SIGNS?!?
Flat grass.
Wet grass…..
SALTY grass!!!!!
And not to mention you set your tent up on the shore of the BAY OF FUNDY where tourists come from ALL OVER THE WORLD to witness, LITERALLY, the HIGHEST TIDES ON PLANET EARTH!!!! You know, right beside the FRIGGING TIDAL BORE in Truro where the tide comes in SO FAST it makes a FRIGGING WAVE!!!!
“Grant you idiot!”
But before I can continue, we need to talk about MEC’s tents. MEC (short for Mountain Equipment Co-op), y’all make a hell of a tent! Those suckers are completely, I mean COMPLETELY, 100% waterproof. I can attest to that 💯 💯 💯 
If y’all got an upcoming commercial or need a new spokesperson, I got you! I can be the Jared to your Subway, you just call my people. 
Okay, on with the story. 
I begin to panic for a second.
“AM I FLOATING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ATLANTIC OCEAN RIGHT NOW?!?! LIKE AN I HALFWAY TO PEI?!?!”
Because, folks, I am literally in my tent and floating. Not a drop of water is in the tent, helluva tent, just the bit of condensation from my breath (that thankfully woke me up). Not a drop inside. Helluva tent. Helluva tent. 
I use my ears and listen. “I can still hear crickets! I’m still close to shore, thank god….”
As I slowly move around I can feel myself just gently bouncing up and down on the bottom. I can tell that the water is probably about 2 and a half feet deep. 
So at this point I know I’m okay. I’m still close to shore, I’m not sailing the Atlantic Ocean at night in my tent, I’m not going to die. 
ALL 
GOOD 
NEWS! 
But I have to get out of the tent, that’s clear. 
Now, please don’t forget that it’s 4am, I’m still half asleep, and even though I know I’m not going to die, this situation is still a complete mess.
Despite the fact that I have a really nice backpack in the tent that I could start to carefully pack things up in, I decide that my motorcycle helmet is my best storage device. So I put on my headlamp and gather up my phone, wallet, and boots and put them in my motorcycle helmet. 
Now, have you ever sat on a pool noodle before? You know when you stratle it you sink in the middle a little bit and both ends go up in the air? Well that’s essentially what was happening to me. When I sat up I sank in the middle of the tent and my bum gently bounced on the ocean floor, while the outside of my tent floated up all around me.
Again, it’s 4am, I’m tired…. Okay okay, I don’t know why I’m trying to rationalize my poor actions, I’ve clearly already made some grand errors, AND THEY CONTINUED!
I carefully reach over and slowly unzip the tent door: Success! I slowly move towards the door to get out: Failure! The weight of my body pushed the tent door down below the level of the water…
It was honestly like a scene from a movie…
The tent instantly, I mean INSTANTLY, “WHOOSH!”, fills up with the Atlantic Ocean. 
My pillow was floating 
My comforter was floating
My sleeping pad was floating
My leather jacket was floating
I stumble back from the door and trip over something floating “Oh, it’s my back pack… with all my clean clothes and other things.” Also dropped my boots and wallet when I tripped…
EVERYTHING, except my helmet and phone, are floating in thy high ocean water inside my tent. At 4am…
All I could do was watch in shock as things just went from bad to worse. I was like a baby who shits itself and rolls around in it and there’s nothing you can do. 
It’s a complete shit show folks! We’re full on in it now! Did I plan on swimming in the Atlantic Ocean that night? Nope! Very unplanned, but there I was….
I finally manage to climb out of my tent, literally dumbfounded, and begin to wade myself to shore, dragging my tent behind me. Oh did I mention I was naked? Yeah, I sleep naked. 
I salvage what I could from the mess of my things and haul my tent up to the side of the road. 
Now what? I’m soaked to the bone and everything I own is soaked. I decide I’m going to head to Truro and get the first hotel I can find, I don’t even care. 
I put on a pare of pants from my back pack, it’s all soaked. I begin to start packing up my tent and I see something. 
“What is that? Headlights?”
At first I think “I’m saved!”
But then look around and take in myself and my setting and I think “I CAN’T BE SEEN LIKE THIS!!!!” So I grab my tent and literally dive and hide in the bushes 🤣
Car drives by. 
Doesn’t stop.
WOO! Thank god!
I get everything packed up and Google map Truro. It’s 45 mins away, the side roads from Noelle Shore are not at all straight forward. 
Although I was very thankful to finish my unplanned swim, those 45 mins made up for the absolute coldest, wettest, and WORST drive of my life… on a motorcycle!
By this time I was already beginning to laugh in my head a bit about the absolute absurdity of my experience, but I literally had to go into a deep state of meditation, using different breathing techniques and whatnot, just to keep myself warm and sane as I made the drive to Truro.
I finally role up at the Comfort Inn in Truro at about 5:30am.
“I need a warm place to sleep.” I say. 
The front desk clerk looks me over. He is clearly curious and intrigued as to why I am there at this time in the morning and why I look so damp. Thankfully he doesn’t ask what happened…
“You know you have to check out at 11am?” he asks. 
“Great.” I respond.
“That’ll be $150.” he says. 
Completely defeated by this point I have no other options. This is where I’m sleeping tonight (but why so expensive Comfort Inn Truro?).
I take a warm shower, and let me tell you folks: HEAVEN! It was the best thing ever. I wrang all my clothes out in the tub and hung em up all around hotel room and then had the best 4 hour sleep OF MY LiFe. Woke up with just enough time to try to dry everything out with the hair dryer, didn’t really work… 
So yea, the start of my Cape Breton trip was certainly not “smooth” sailing, just very “unplanned” sailing… haaaa ha…
Very happy I didn’t die, because let’s be real, people have drowned in shallower water. Thank GOODNESS I bought a nice tent from MEC. Do y’all make boats? If so I’m sure they work great!
Helluva tent

Helluva tent

 HERE is my own story that occurred when I set out in a rental car from Halifax airport late at night, not having any idea where I was going, and ended up spending the night near the same spot that he describes some time past midnight, not in equal duress, but in duress nonetheless.

I Pledge Allegiance…

Another great short talk by Beau thanks to Forgottenman.

okcForgottenMan's avatarserial monography: forgottenman's ruminations

Carey Wedler, a cohort of Beau of the Fifth Column, shows us what the U.S. Pledge of Allegiance looks like when you remove the chaff:
Beau, as you might expect (if you recall my past postings of his rants) has a wonderful follow-up critique:

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