political commentary

Conservative Republican opinion, what’s politically auspicious

Neal Schon Rules, Bad News and Silver Linings, and Other Ephemera

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I’ve adored this guy’s work for 30 years so I’m biased, but this album is good!

I’m glad that I’d agreed to take my sister-in-law with me to the Journey show last night, because when I woke up yesterday I was damned depressed.  Somehow there’s got to be a silver lining in four more years of the worst president in American history, but yesterday morning I sure as hell couldn’t see it.  I still can’t, but part of the Serenity Prayer is accepting what you can’t change.  That being said, I will work like hell to change what I can, and I will still keep on telling the truth about the Naked Emperor.  I have a moral obligation to call out evil for what it is.   I hope and pray that the history of Richard Nixon will repeat itself.  The difference between Obama and Nixon, however, is a.) Obama is evil and corrupt to his rotten core and his deeds far exceed the treachery of Nixon’s, and b.) unlike Nixon, Obama thinks he’s God, and he will not peaceably resign.

The media (who remember have covered for Obama and his slimy cronies all along) are going to say that the GOP needs to move toward the center.  Bullshit.  The GOP needs to move- and stay- more to the right.  Many people didn’t bother to go out and vote for Romney because they couldn’t see a clear difference between the plan Romney proposed and the slimy bait and switch tactics that Obama’s been passing off.  Obama won partially because he’s a liar and adept at deceiving the American people.  He’s played the race card, apparently to the point of making people believe that just because one is black that their race gives them free rein to be completely inept but still get a free pass.  I say equal opportunity also means that every race has the equal opportunity to SUCK- and to be called out and face the consequences when they suck.  My black friends don’t get that, and most of them still think Obama is the best thing since sliced bread.

My black friends don’t believe me when I tell them about Obama’s complicity and approval of black genocide (40% of all aborted babies are black, but black people are only 12% of the population,) and how it works in his best interest to keep as many people as he can uneducated and governmentally dependent.  When I criticize Obama and call out his hatred of our country to them – and even to some white people I know who have inexplicably jumped on the Obama Titanic- the first response is that I’m a racist.  Though I also point out that I would vehemently oppose a(n) (all) white guy who has done and said what Obama’s done and said, my rational arguments against him fall on deaf ears.

Apparently these two ass-clowns were so funny that people wanted an encore.

It’s never too early to impeach, although Obama would really have to do something outrageous to cheese off Harry Reid and that crowd.  If it were possible for the public outcry against him to be so overwhelmingly loud that even the Dems in the Senate would have to hear and fear for their cushy positions, they would throw Obama under the bus, but the problem so far is even with all the egregious errors and trampling on the Constitution and the impeachable offenses that Obama’s committed, the media covers for Obama.  They’ve done a really good job of putting a ribbon on a turd, but let’s face it, even when you put a ribbon on a turd, you don’t make the turd not be a turd anymore.

But the Affirmative Action president gets a pass!  Apparently if you’re black (or half black) you don’t get the equal opportunity to face the consequences when you fail.

Sadly, while I liked Mitt Romney more as I listened to him, even I have to admit that I didn’t so much vote FOR Romney as I did AGAINST Obama.  That’s not a really great motive, even when you are voting against evil.  I think what this country really needs is to have someone really great to believe in, and who can explain his/her plan in a way that connects with the majority of people. Unfortunately the last one we have seen like that is Reagan, and he’s dead.  Romney is a good man, and I thought he had a much better plan than Obama, although I freely admit my mentally challenged deaf Husky could do a better job in the Oval Office than Obama.  At least Sheena is housebroken.  The problem is that Romney is not a Reagan, as much as people like me who are so disgusted and appalled with the Marxist-in-Chief would have liked him to be.  Romney appealed to those who really had it with Obama, but Romney didn’t appeal to those who for whatever (bizarre and whacked out) reason were neutral toward or favored Obama.  Therein lies the problem.

I don’t think that being less conservative and more politically correct is the answer at all, unlike the MSM pundits who want the American public to shut up and be good little socialists like they are in Europe.  I think being American, not accepting the status quo, and standing up for the truth is the only way to fly.  The challenge is how to get the right message across, and finding the right person to do it.

All I know is I will keep on telling the truth, and maybe one person might get it.  I’m too crass and to the point to even think of pursuing political office.  For the most part, I vent, but maybe my venting will make someone stop and think.

Back to Neal Schon.

I am so glad I got to hear his rendition of the National Anthem.

The Journey show last night was awesome, and so were the other bands- Pat Benatar and Loverboy were excellent live, and the whole show was certainly worth seeing.  If anything it lifted my mood and got my mind out of the dark funk.

This too shall pass.  I don’t like to let political views stand between friends, even though I believe very strongly in what I believe in.  At least I care.  I may not be 100% right but then again neither is anyone else.

Everyone has to believe in something.  I believe I’ll get back to jamming to The Calling and stay out of trouble for the afternoon.

Sometimes the Truth Hurts, I Am Not a Confectioner, and an Update from Fly-Over Country

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I think Little Mogadishu (corner of Morse & Westerville Rd.s in NE Columbus) was an excellent place to display this sign.

I’ve always believed the First Amendment works both ways.  Unfortunately when conservatives exercise their First Amendment rights, some ass-pilot has to jump in and block that freedom of expression, and they succeed in doing it far too often.

The Voter Fraud sign- which is part of the Ohio Revised Code- was deemed to be “racially offensive” and that it caused “voter intimidation” because it was put up in neighborhoods where voter fraud might be an issue (i.e. precincts that supported Obama heavily back in 2008.)  Unfortunately Clear Channel caved in and removed the signs, leaving us with another public service announcement asking whether or not we know if we are using the right car seat.

Granted, car seat safety is important, but so is making sure people understand that when you vote you follow the rules.  What is racist or intimidating about that- unless of course, your aim is to cheat, wink-wink?  This sign should only be intimidating to potential cheaters as far as I’m concerned.  What’s the problem?  Oh, apparently conservatives are not protected by the First Amendment?

This really pisses me off.

I am voting- at my polling place on Nov. 6th, because early voting in Franklin County is being held at a location in a not-so-safe part of town, where I feel intimidated even in broad daylight- smack in the middle of  the ‘hood.   I’m sure I’m not the only one of a certain ethnic background (aka: white people) who feels that way either.  But I am voting once, under one name, after showing my ID and signing the book, in accordance with Ohio law.  The voter fraud billboard wouldn’t bother me in the least if it were displayed in my little corner of suburbia- or on every corner- because I plan on following the rules.  Why is it “offensive” down in the ‘hood?  Why do I have to be afraid to go to the early voting center because of how it’s oh, so strategically placed?  Which voters are being intimidated here?

I may not vote early, for fear of not surviving the parking lot of the early voting center in one piece, or with a car in one piece, but I’m still voting.  I just want to be sure my name is in the book at my precinct and that my ballot is counted correctly.

I’m not a confectioner and I don’t candy coat the truth.  Racism sucks no matter which direction it’s pointed, and frankly I am tired of being made to feel guilty for being white and for refusing to apologize for being conservative.

It breaks my heart to see what Obama has done in this country, but especially in the arena of race relations.  I have friends of many different races – even Jerry is mostly Native American- and it makes me sad to see the veracity with which most black people hold on to the very ideologies that keep them from achieving more and getting off of governmental dependence.  I hate Obama’s politics not because he’s half black but because his politics are dangerous and wrong. As far as I’m concerned Marxism, socialism and communism are failed ideologies that need to be consigned to the waste bin of history- just like the list of “50 difficult things you can do to ‘save the earth'” list the greenies put out some time ago (which would be funny- if it wasn’t so downright lamebrained.)

I am afraid Obama’s woeful mishandling of foreign policy, his utter ignorance of history, and his thorough disdain for the importance of the Constitutional mandate for national defense is going to prove to be deadly for not only the US but the rest of the formerly free world.

As far as displaying billboards with laws and penalties on them, why aren’t the smokers screaming about this one:

These are posted in all sorts of places where smokers might want to light up!

I don’t condone smoking.  In fact, I loathe it in my car and in my house and Jerry is well aware of that fact.  But the anti-smoking sign follows the same principle of the voter fraud sign- the no smoking sign would only prove offensive to those who wish to violate the no smoking rule- yet these puppies are posted in just about every public place where a smoker might think it safe to light up.  It’s supposed to deter the smoker from violating the law.  What’s wrong with posting a law in a place where people may violate that law, to discourage them from violating that law?  If it’s not the law and just a threat, I’d understand the whole intimidation charge.  If it were legal to light up in public places and you posted a no smoking under penalty of law type sign then it would be intimidating smokers from doing something legal.  People voting multiple times, dead people voting, and ineligible people voting is illegal.  What’s the problem with pointing that out?

On a lighter note, Joe Biden made an appearance at the high school in Marion today (retch, gag, barf) but he forgot he was in OHIO and not IOWA.  People in Ohio do know the difference between Ohio and Iowa.  Ohio is further east and not quite as flat- for those not acquainted with the Midwest or who have never been to fly-over country.  I hope the people in my hometown see through this laughable ass-clown.  The Democrats have heavily contributed to fact the place has become a cracktown with very few jobs besides welfare. I will have to get the lowdown from the locals, but I don’t think he attracted too much of a crowd- other than the high school students who were probably forced to attend.

The actual movie “Beavis and Butthead do America” was funny, but these two ass-clowns are tragic.

Jerry’s Plate (Not a Guide for Healthy Eating) and Snarkiness Made Simple

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I didn’t add cigarettes, since technically one does not consume them.  But maybe I should have.

I think sixteen beers ought to do it- on a weeknight, anyway.

Granted, the FDA food recommendations have come a long way from the “four food groups” that we grew up with.  That “Food Pyramid” thing was just about impossible to fathom.  Now they’re telling people to visualize their plate.  Perhaps just telling people to save half of what’s on their plate for tomorrow would be much more effective.

For a minute I mistook Janet Napolitano for Henry Kissinger, until I remembered Henry’s a Republican, and he wears glasses.

I have to say I happened upon the Sad Hill site and I am finding it most entertaining, though in a sort of sad way.  I know lampooning the government is as old as the Republic itself (and remember, kids, as my 8th grade history teacher drilled into our heads: “Our country is NOT a democracy, it is a representative republic.”)  I admit my distinct right wing bias, and I also admit that I lampoon the loony left whenever I get a chance.

At least the hand dryer at Target isn’t blowing hot air AND lying.

Wherever Miss (never “Ms.”) Barker is, (I hope she is still in the realm of the living, though I know she has long since retired from teaching) I would love to thank her for her contribution to my love of history and for encouraging people to engage in critical thinking.  She is the one who told us the Soviet Union would fall before 1990…in 1981.  She also let us know the Soviets were not the real Nemesis of the World, as they could not sustain themselves economically and they would implode from within.  The distinction of being the real world villains would belong to the Middle East and radical Islam- back when all we saw of radical Islam was a few nut jobs in Iran.  The sad thing is- unless something starts going right for a change- I would be afraid to hear her predictions for ten years from today.

It’s too bad that students of history like Miss Barker aren’t the ones deciding foreign policy.   Unfortunately we have a president who instead of standing up to terror and injustice abroad, he hides behind Hillary Clinton’s pantsuit and refuses to take the blame for a criminal lapse in security even in our own embassy!  Unlike Reagan, who stood up to the failure of communism, pleading, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!,” Obama hangs out with Letterman, Beyoncé and Jay-Z, smiling for the cameras and schmoozing with the “stars” instead of making time to speak with the prime minister of Israel.  I understand Netanyahu is probably not nearly as “fun” as the Hollywood nut crowd, and he’s not as likely to contribute to B.O.’s campaign as is the Muslim Brotherhood or Hamas, but Israel is our only real friend in the Middle East.  Obama seems to like screwing that up.

I hope it’s not too late.

On a more pleasant, non political note (for those who might like it when I write funny stuff, but wonder why I am so into conservative politics) I came across some artwork that reminded me of my childhood:

I’m glad I generally got along with my Dad.

Of course I found this assignment intriguing, so I had to answer these for myself:

As I said, Dad and I usually got along.  I deserved the air hammer- but luckily, he missed.

The only thing I can recall that Dad did that really was unfair/out of line with me was to force me to be in my oldest sister’s wedding.  First of all she doesn’t like me in the first place, and the feeling is quite mutual.  This was the sadistic harpie who beat the living hell out of me almost daily for years.  That didn’t completely stop until I sent her to the hospital to get stitches in her mouth because she took my car without permission.  Why she wanted me in her wedding was entirely beyond me.  I was also going through a divorce at the time and had next to no money.  I know she was the Bridezilla from hell and I think Dad got tired of her whining about me trying to graciously decline being in her wedding.  I don’t know why she cared, other to deliver one sadistic last laugh at me. She has scads of more attractive and far wealthier friends who would have been glad to take my place.  At least I have the hollow glee of being the fugliest thing in her pictures.

It’s pretty heartless to expect someone to be in your wedding who a.) doesn’t like you to begin with, b.) is going through a divorce, and c.) can’t afford to waste money on a road trip she doesn’t have time to take and on a fugly dress she’ll only wear once.  I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again- the cruelest thing a woman can do to her unfortunate friends, or even more unfortunate relatives, is to ask her to be a bridesmaid in her wedding.  Trust me.   I wish Dad would have defended me on that one, but otherwise I can’t complain.  I got pretty lucky in that particular lottery.

Snot, Snot, Everywhere, Interesting to Visit, and Sadness vs. Euphoria

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Interesting to visit, but I don’t want to stay.

The Haunted Prison experience was awesome.  I’ve been to some really good haunted houses, haunted hayrides, etc. but this one takes the prize.  The bad thing is that you can’t take pics inside the prison- I took this one from the road outside, but we had to leave the cameras and the cell phones in the car.  I will say that I was a bit taken aback when I noticed the tickets include a warning that the management is not responsible for anyone losing control of his/her bladder and/or bowels.  I remained continent, which is saying a lot probably considering that I was one of the oldest people there, but I am really glad I used the ladies’ before I got in line.

The fact that the Mansfield Reformatory was a working prison for about 100 years adds to the creep factor quite a bit.  It’s a huge facility, but only a very small portion of it is used for the haunted prison excursion, and most of those areas are in the oldest parts of the prison. Some of the cell blocks are five stories high.  As the building aged, certain parts of it were left to decay while newer additions were built on.  I don’t see how it would have been feasible to heat the cell blocks with the five story high ceilings- let alone to work out some sort of plumbing arrangement.  Ohio winters can be deathly cold- and summers can be deadly hot as well.   Suffice to say without decent HVAC provisions this part of the world is unlivable even if you’re in prison. Some of the cells we saw had toilets while others didn’t, but then it was hard to tell which parts of the prison were shut down when.  The whole place was decommissioned in 1981, so all of it’s been sitting around rotting for over 30 years anyway.

As one who is cursed with the respiratory funk anyway, a bloody head cold really sucks.

I hate snot.  I hate drowning in it.  I hate hawking it up all over the place.  Green snot, brown snot, yellow snot, clear snot, I would love to go for a day without choking on it.  Even when I’m not suffering from any acute contagion of the respiratory system, the snot drainage down the back of my throat is constant, and I choke on it unless I sleep with my head elevated at a 45° angle.  When I am suffering from an acute contagion of the respiratory system, I am a veritable snot Niagara Falls. Elevation does not help, unless I am sitting straight up.  Vast quantities of anti-snot medications are required to keep me breathing at all- in between hacking up huge snot balls.  Think the Ghostbusters movies and you have it.

 No, I am not exaggerating.  I wish I were.

Of course I take three days off trying to escape the rat race and all that mess, only to spend those three days (and the weekend too) swilling Nyquil and spewing forth gallons of disgusting, slimy multicolored snot.  Today’s a lot better than the past few days, although I’ve got the Dayquil and the anti-snot pills handy should I need them.  The snots did have one good side effect though.  Jerry pretty much kept his distance and his whining was at a minimum.  As I get better that will probably change.  I did get some quiet time in between being heavily medicated and hawking up infinitely foul goo to watch some of my favorite movies and chill out with the dogs, so it wasn’t a total loss.  I do remember- as if I needed a reminder- why I am almost OCD about being around those with contagions though.  The bad part is that no matter how paranoid you are about hygiene and handwashing and all that noise, eventually you will get down and something will get to you.  Admittedly in the past few weeks I’ve been pretty stressed out and doing too much and getting run down so I think it was inevitable no matter how much Lysol I spray or zinc lozenges I take.  At least today I see marked improvement, which sort of figures, since I have a Dr.’s appointment Friday.  Either I will be completely cleared up or one step in the grave by then.   I never seem to be able to get in when I’m actually sick.  Go figure.  Personally as far as the various respiratory funks go, I think modern science hasn’t progressed much more than the patent medicine hawkers (man, I am using the word “hawk” a lot in this post) of the 19th century.  I’d probably done just as well and paid less for this:

Of course most patent medicines were either opium or alcohol or both.

Billy Joel wrote a song many years ago called “Summer at Highland Falls.”  I sort of wonder if Billy Joel might be bi-polar because the refrain of the song is, “it’s either sadness or euphoria.”  I can’t say I can ever remember being euphoric, but then I’m not bi-polar.  Living with a bi-polar person did give me future reference on how to deal with unpredictable coke head bosses I would encounter later in life.  Mom was never a coke head (thank God) but untreated bi-polar people and coke heads act remarkably similar.  I know the sadness end of the equation all too well, but most of the time my emotional state can be described as a quiet, bland sort of melancholy.  Unless of course I’m watching Beavis deep fry a dead rat as he’s toiling away at Burger World, or listening to Butthead point out every possible bit of double entendre he hears.  I don’t know why I find such puerile comedy so hilarious, but I do.  Euphoria, not so much, but I’ll take what amusement I can get.

The pisser is, as I found out right after having all four wisdom teeth chiselled out, I’m highly allergic to codeine, which is a natural opiate…no good drugs for me 😦

I did have a rather fortuitous encounter- actually two of them- as I was returning from the campground.  I was stopped in traffic coming back from Lancaster only to get a glimpse of the Romney tour bus. (I got a pic- though somewhat crappy since it was moving- that time.)  Then as I was coming home from Kroger’s later on Friday I’m stopped about a block from my house only to discover that Romney and his retinue are chowing at the City Barbeque next door.  That was rather cool.  I didn’t get pics that time but I did get to talk with one of the Franklin County Republicans who got to chow with Romney and company, so that was somewhat cool.  I hope that it’s a portent of things to come.  I’d been pissed if I’d had to wait in traffic for Obama and his minions, and even more pissed to think he was chowing next door to my house.  Both candidates have been spending a lot of time in Ohio.  My condolences- as I’m sure that they’re both used to much more exciting places- but maybe you’ll both see how us ‘po folk live and have a little empathy for us, eh?

Observations of a Cynical Old Bitty, Sports Commentary, and Keeping it Simple

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I don’t drink beer.  I don’t like beer.  But to Jerry, this swill is the elixir of the Gods.  Go figure.

Tomorrow I begin a brief vacation.   Not because I’m sick, a family member’s sick or I have some stupid errand(s,) which is usually the only reason I take time off.  Granted, I did tell Jerry I would list a bunch of his crap on E-Bay tonight (joy and rapture) and I did put the rack of ribs in the slow cooker.  But he’s on his own for a couple of days which means the drive-thru better have some cold Natty Packs, and I better make sure he has Katie’s (the local good pizza joint) on speed dial.  Tomorrow morning I head for the hills- literally- where Sprint access is a crap shoot (so no internet and probably no phone either) and things should be somewhat bull-shit free as long as Jerry doesn’t show up and ruin the quiet.

I’ll have Miss Clara with me, to screen any potential “visitors.”

Clara enjoys being at the campground.  I do have to make sure she’s on a leash any time she’s not in the cabin, but I give her a long lead and let her explore.  Clara is obedient and usually a good listener, but my only fear is that with the prey drive she has that she would lunge off after a critter and get lost.  Prey drive is an instinctual thing with dogs, and when she’s locked on to something she may or may not respond to verbal commands.  This is why a lot of people who work with protection breeds use shock collars (no I am not going there) so they can get a dog’s attention should they get locked on a prey item.  I don’t want to take that chance in an area where she can get lost and/or mistaken for a deer.  Admittedly, I’ve been paranoid with Clara ever since she was hit by a truck three years ago.  She has never attempted to get beyond the fence since then, even when Sheena has found – or fabricated for herself- ways out.   Sheena has about ten pounds on Clara, so any hole big enough for Sheena is more than big enough for Clara.  Before she got hit Clara thought it was a fun game to try to find holes in the fence and such, but she has not strayed even once since.  Still, I’m not taking any undue chances with her.

I’m not trying to get my hopes up about the upcoming election, though I was most encouraged by Romney’s debate performance last Wednesday.  I’d never really thought Romney was much of a public speaker but this debate was a most pleasant surprise.  The man knows what he’s talking about, and more importantly, he believes in what he says.   The absence of the teleprompter was rather telling for Obama.  Apparently Eastwood was right.  Now if only the rest of the world will get a clue and see what I’ve known all along.  The self-proclaimed “emperor” is naked as a jay bird.

Bluejays may not wear clothes, but at least they do have feathers.

Bluejays are interesting birds in that they eat almost anything, and they’re rather aggressive.  A few years ago there was a huge scare in Franklin County regarding West Nile virus and people were asked to report any dead crows or jays (crows and jays are actually related types of birds) so the health department could test them.  Of course I’m the lucky one to find a dead jay out in the front yard that wasn’t visibly mauled by cats or hit by anything, just stiff and dead as a post, so kept my distance and called the health department to come and get it for testing.  I’m not a big fan of communicable disease, so I figure better safe than sorry.  If there’s crap like that lurking about in my yard I want to know about it.

In response to my call, some guy from the health department showed up, with his hazmat garb and everything, to pick up the dead jay (with thickly gloved hands of course.)  The health department guy observed that the jay’s mouth was open and that it had another bird (likely a baby starling) jammed in its throat in such a manner that it likely choked to death.  He still took the dead jay for testing, but assured me that the cause of death was most likely asphxyiation rather than West Nile.  Apparently this is a somewhat common manner of death for jays.

Thankfully no one needs to tell me this twice.

Most sports are pretty stupid when you think about it.  Football for instance, involves chasing a funky shaped ball up and down a field.  It also involves having very big guys jump all over your sorry carcass.  I spent the first thirteen years of my life trying to avoid having my ass kicked.  Even if I were coordinated and could play a sport for money, I don’t think the scratch would be worth daily ass kickings all over again. NFL players are coming out and saying that they are getting brain damage from all the concussions they get playing football.  Granted most athletes aren’t rocket scientists to begin with (and I say this from deep within the highly uncoordinated geek camp) but shouldn’t brain damage be your sign that playing certain sports might not be worth it?

Today you’re throwing a football on national TV.  Tomorrow you’re sucking up pureed bananas in a straw whilst shitting your drawers.

Hockey is another sport I don’t get.  It’s only fun if they fight.

Which brings us to NASCAR fans and WalMart shoppers….

Perhaps that’s mean of me,  and a bit ironic, because occasionally I go to WalMart, if I have to get something I can’t find at Target, or I’m in Marion where there is no Target.  But NASCAR, I can’t bring myself to watch that shit.  Ever.

Must have taken this pic in Newark (OH)- the Lardy Lady Capitol of the Midwest!

Freddy Mercury would have loved Newark.  Big fat Fannys everywhere!

Speaking of big fat Fanny- but she’s a cat- and she’s cute.

Black and Blue (Not Fun to Do) and My Crappy Attitude

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Some days this is a lot easier said than done because I’m feeling a bit– ok- a lot- battered today.

I’ll say it now- I’m going to have a bit of a rant today.  Lord have mercy.  I need it.

No, I am not enduring any sort of domestic violence.  Jerry is pretty much confined to getting drunk and stupid.  He will say stupid things and do stupid things, but even Jerry has that little glimmer of self preservation instinct deep with in the reptilian part of his brain that restrains him from being stupid enough to get physically violent with me. I’m not inclined toward physical contact- especially fighting- and I generally avoid him when he’s drunk.  So we have a sort of détenté.  When he’s wasted, I’m in my own room, usually with the dogs.

Yesterday I went to the matinee showing of 2016 with Steve-o.  I’ve always appreciated Dinesh D’Souza’s commentary, and there were a number of facts brought up in the movie that I had not been aware of.  It was sort of preaching to the choir as far as I’m concerned, though.  The people who really need to see this movie are the people who are ill-informed or deceived enough to seriously entertain the thought of voting for Obama.   I already know better than to do that.  I knew better in 2008.  The only bad thing about going to the movie was my abysmal coordination.  Steve-o wanted to sit up toward the back, and as I was climbing the steps (which are uneven in a movie theatre) I bashed my foot on the step, and of course went down.

Thankfully I’d decided against the $7.00 Diet Coke.  I detest watered-down fountain drinks anyway, but I’d been really pissed if I’d nearly face planted (I came close to it) and then ended up wearing an over priced watered down fountain drink to add insult to my injury.  So now my left foot looks like someone bashed it with a hammer.  I’d be surprised if my big toe isn’t broken.  Even if it is, the ER can’t do anything for it other then to tell me to take Naproxen and put ice on it which I’ve already been doing.  Now I’m just waiting to see how far the bruise will spread and how many colors it will turn.  I’m rather easily amused.

Sort of an angry dark purple today, but it’s not too bad, if I refrain from bending it or bumping into anything.  Yeah.  I’m that coordinated. Had I been coordinated I’d not done this in the first place.

In spite of my rather unfortunate genetic grab bag, there are times I wish I’d been able to have more kids.  Then I remember I’m still paying for the POMC, and then I’m thankful that the Hand of Providence only allowed me one.

I don’t see how anyone can afford more than one rug rat- my condolences on anyone paying for one child especially today.  I don’t know how people do it with multiple mouths.  Of course I will be paying back all the $$$ I had to borrow to get the POMC through school, for the next ten years, so I’m just a skoche miffed about that.  If a person is considered an adult at age 18, then why the flying eff  is he considered my “dependent” for the purposes of the student loan machine- even though I can’t claim him as a tax deduction- because he has been living independently and working since he was 18?  Why do I get stuck with him on my insurance ’till he’s 26- (thanks Obama, for that shitty little provision) even though he works and has his own kid to support- and I end up with half of his student loans?????

I guess it’s my fault he’s white (minorities can get grants, but never whitey) and since the govt. has taken over student loans and financial aid, the kids get no help at all if their parents earn a (barely…) subsistence wage, even if the kid doesn’t live with his/her parents, which is majorly effed up.

Of course if I were on welfare and/or he belonged to ______ minority group, his education would have been free.  If he had any kind of athletic prowess (though I’m glad he actually got a brain instead) he’d be playing some sport and get a free ride which baffles my mind.  How many football players have an IQ higher than pond scum?  I have said it many, many times.  The football teams make schools like OSU and others a LOT of money.  Hire guys to play football, understand the football jocks are NOT scholars, and if you’re going to give scholarships, give them to people with the intellect to do something with the education they’re offered.  Of course that will never happen.

It is also a fact that if you’re female, AND white, you might as well understand there’s no scholarships and precious few grants for you to go to school no matter how poor you are.  It also doesn’t matter high your IQ and/or your GPA is.  A white female might as well just understand that if she wants an education, she’s going to have to pay for it (as well as for all the freeloaders) herself.

The lesson in this?  Apparently white people shouldn’t breed.  We just get stuck doing all the work- and then paying for everyone else who belongs to some “special group” anyway!

If you want an education, girls, better be prepared to learn on your own.

To put the turd on the icing of that little cake not only am I paying for my own kid (that, I don’t like, but I do understand) but I also get to pay for all the “special” ones who don’t have to pay too, probably even including the jocks who can’t spell their own names, but because they can run with a football, they get free rides.  These are guys whose academic pursuits include such edifying courses as, “Connecting With Your Inner Child Through Sports” and “The Joys of Basket Weaving.”  Maybe that’s why paying for my kid costs so damned much- because I’m not just paying for him but I’m also paying for the “freebie” kids.  Is this why health insurance is so outrageous too- because everyone who has insurance is paying for everyone who doesn’t for whatever reason?  I think it’s the same mentality going on, and it pisses me off.

Jerry might.  The dogs do.  I still use the toilet.

Absolute Authority, Colonel of the Urinal, and Which Circle of Hell is This?

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I can’t say I envied her death by guillotine, but she had an awesome wardrobe for a time, whatever that’s worth.

(Just imagine all the lice in that wig…)

Today I am reminded of Lord Acton’s Dictum: “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”  This being said, I don’t want to be in charge of anything more lofty than getting Jerry’s AV equipment working for him.  It’s a TV and cable box, (God forbid he wants to figure out how to play a DVD at 6:30 AM) but for him, the TV remote might as well be Mission Control at NASA.

We have achieved ignition!  The TV is on!  Now Jerry can watch the news, and I can get on with getting my own shit done.

I know I shouldn’t pander to Jerry’s ever-present Helplessman mode.  I know he wants attention, otherwise he wouldn’t have unplugged all that crap a couple of weeks ago, forcing me to contort my body into positions it was never meant to assume in order to plug all of it back in and get it working again.  I couldn’t do Kama Sutra positions when I was younger and actually had sex every now and again.  Why the hell should I suffer like that knowing that sex is just a distant memory, and all I’ll get out of it now is dirty and pissed off?

Now that he knows I really hate the contortionist bullshit I have to go through to plug everything in again, it follows that when he whines about not being able to operate the TV, I will just turn the box on and leave the box on, and set the power button so the power button only works the TV.  If you turn off the box, then you have to turn the power button on, then turn the box on, then hit the power button again and then hit the TV button, which is just too many steps for Jerry.  If he would just leave the damned thing alone except for turning the TV on and off with the power button, it would work just fine, but he has to jack around with things he doesn’t understand.   Guess who gets to fix that mess?

Yes, he was raised by wolves, and his childhood sucked, and he didn’t get enough attention from Mommy, and all that psychological clap trap, but by the time you’re 55 one would think you would have learned to let it go and just deal.  Maybe I just took my own dysfunctional childhood the other direction and became insanely self-sufficient out of necessity and also out of recognition that if I want something done, it’s on me to get it done.

Depending on the charity or beneficence of others is sort of like wishing in one hand and taking a big juicy crap in the other.  We all know which one is going to fill up first.  Either I do it myself, or pay someone else if it’s something I can’t do myself. I don’t expect anyone to do my laundry, or hook up my TV, or fix my meals.

It’s well to remember that before the mid-20th century, most Americans were rednecks raised by wolves, bathing twice a year whether they needed it or not, and using the facility in the woods along with the bears.

I wish we had another working toilet.  There is a toilet in the basement, but it doesn’t work.  It’s some kind of weird electric (?) flush up type thing, but it’s permanently out of order unless Jerry can find someone to fix it or replace it or something.  Plumbing is a skilled trade- that I know absolutely nothing about.

All I know is that it cost $250 for the plumber to re-do the kitchen sink drain after Jerry tried to put a catfish head down the kitchen sink disposal.  The bad part about sharing a bathroom (and even though Jerry’s as filthy as a  horde of hogs, I would rather share a bathroom with a dude than a woman any day) is that it seems he has to take his place on the throne at the same time I need to brush my teeth and put on enough makeup to avoid traumatizing small children and dogs.

“Shit with a Hint of Mint” is not a flavor I think the product developers at Colgate had in mind, but more often than not, that’s the experience in my world.

This one would be flying off the shelves… not!

Perhaps I shouldn’t be so sensitive.  I should be more thankful that I don’t have much of a sense of smell.   If it stinks to me, it positively has to reek to the rest of the world.

I’m also thankful for the MP3 player, as the abysmal selections of country music being played by others in my vicinity seem to get worse every day.  I don’t care about saving horses and riding cowboys, nor do I give a hang about some hillbilly’s alcohol problem. I have realized that being exposed to country music- constantly and against my will, especially- only makes me loathe it more.  That’s OK.  I’m listening to the live version of Journey’s “Line of Fire,” which is drowning out the oat opera quite nicely.  I don’t want to be rude, but I would like to tell both the oat opera offenders where they can shove their damned radios and how high.  Those things have headphone jacks…please for the love of God use them!

I miss Reagan even more after the current Obfuscater in Chief sent out yet another misguided apology yesterday.

Back to our friend Lord Acton and his Dictum.  One person or one misguided group of people holding all the power is a very dangerous thing.  Humans are evil by nature, and without checks and balances- just imagine a five year old left alone in a car with a very expensive interior with nothing but his imagination and a Sharpie.  I’ve seen it.  It’s not pretty.  Neither is what has happened to the current government of this country.

I think if anything the system that we have to fear in this country isn’t so much Marxism or socialism or communism, but government by oligarchy.  The good ol’ boy system is nothing new, which is why the Framers of the Constitution tried to design safeguards into our system of government to help prevent one person- or even one ideological group- from getting too much power.  Obama on his own- he’s not that bright.  But the self-appointed “elites” who run things behind the scenes know exactly what they’re doing to this country and by proxy to the entire world.

Some pigs are more equal than others, as Orwell pointed out.  Al Gore might preach to the world to “mind their carbon footprint” and “wipe with reusable cloths,” or to “bury your car,” but this jackwagon is riding about in private jets and SUVs and sucking down more fossil fuels in a weekend than some entire countries do in a year.  You can bet there’s no Charmin shortage at Chez Gore either. 

Let them eat Big Macs!

Suffer the Old Cougar, Sheena’s Special Needs, and the Things on My Memory Card

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I don’t have too many strange little pieces of kitsch lying around, but this is one of them.  I even know where it should have been at one time.

This is a ’69 Cougar.  The emblem, above, that I happened upon in some yard sale crap box, is the same as the one on the LF fender.

I never was a true believer in old Detroit iron.  I’m still a bit of a car snob- I love, but can’t afford and don’t want to deal with the high maintenance on the European stuff, so I am happy with a utilitarian Toyota that is easy to maintain, reliable and efficient and I leave it at that for now.  Unless I come into money and can buy that ’69 FJ40, the ’69 Karmann Ghia and the ’83 GTI I’d like to have to play with.

Even back in the ’80’s when all the other motorheads were into Camaros or Mustangs or (heaven forbid) anything Mopar, I was playing with VW Rabbits and air-cooled VW rail buggies.  However, if you are/were into old muscle cars, the ’69 and ’70 Mercury Cougars were somewhat rare, and are aesthetically very cool.  Mom actually had a ’70 Cougar, with a 351 Windsor no less- the one she sold way too cheap because my cat, LeRoy, decided to take a leak all over the back seat.  As part of the same eliminatory session, LeRoy also left a huge dump right on the driver’s seat.  That’s why you never leave the window down.  Leaving windows down on any unattended car in Ohio is a bad idea for a number of reasons.  First, it can get jacked that way.  Second, it can rain anytime, regardless of what the “forecast” indicates.  Third, outdoor cats may mistake your ride for an upholstered toilet.  No matter what she tried, the piss smell just wouldn’t come out.  LeRoy lived outside because he wasn’t neutered (I was only a little kid and couldn’t afford to get the poor cat’s nuts cut so he could live in the house) and now I know why neutering a tomcat is pretty important if you want him to live inside.  Male cat urine does not ever come out of upholstery.  “Little Trees” don’t help, either.  The dude who bought that old Cougar freely admitted to having no sense of smell. He smelled worse than the interior of the car to begin with, so I understand why he could have cared less. It was a good match.

LeRoy looked like Morris the 9Lives cat, but Dad hates cats, so LeRoy it was, since that’s Dad’s middle name.

LeRoy (in spite of having my Dad’s rather unfortunate middle name- Grandma sure had a sense of humor) was a really cool cat.  He was about Fanny sized- 16#-17#, and I could do anything with him, up to and including putting him in doll clothes and walking him around in a doll stroller.  He actually was a street cat, but he knew where the food was (I did bring him food) and he was one of those twisted big cats that liked little kids picking him up and playing with him.  Leave to me to attract the neighborhood misfits and strays.

Speaking of misfits and strays, we have discovered why Sheena is so difficult and seemingly incorrigible.  On top of all her other issues, Sheena is deaf.

No wonder she doesn’t listen.  She’s deaf as a post.

I don’t know why we didn’t figure it out before.  She follows the other dogs and will usually do what they do- but when there’s no other dog to watch and she can’t see a human, she’s lost. She does not respond to anyone if they’re behind her and she can’t see them. You can’t wake her from sleep unless you touch or shake her- sounds do not wake her up. I had thought she was just an incredibly sound sleeper, but that is not normal dog behavior.  A dog that can hear will be roused from sleep by a loud noise close by.  She is also much more intent on being able to see everything than a normal dog.  Jerry is having a dog trainer come out to evaluate her tonight to see if she might be able to learn sign language since she is so visually focused.  I have found some information that deaf dogs can learn commands in ASL, which would be a good learning experience for the other two dogs also.   In a way I feel bad because we simply thought she was mentally off, but for being deaf and having to navigate that way she compensates amazingly well.  Fortunately she already has some things working to her advantage.  She is able to follow the other dogs and work off their visual cues and body language, which is beneficial for a deaf dog, and in some instances (case in point) a deaf dog living with hearing dogs can cue in on their behavior and adapt so well that no one can tell they’re deaf.  Sheena has no fear of humans and she’s very trusting- probably because she knows that the humans have the food.  I am anxious to see what the trainer has to say when he works with her.

I took this pic whilst getting Jerry’s lottery tickets at the Speedway (gas station) last night.  Getting stoned in a Mom van.  Go figure.

I do find some funky things to photograph.  I wish there had been digital cameras back in the ’80’s.  Then again, maybe not.

The boy can sleep- and drool- anywhere.

Like father, like daughter- they were both napping.

The Meow Game, Communicating With Others, and True Believers

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The Meow Game from Super Troopers

I have no idea where people get the idea that it’s in any way beneficial to get lippy with cops.  I know some cops like to play mind games with people to see how they’re going to respond, which positively terrifies and paralyzes me.

I have a difficult enough time under normal circumstances carrying on a conversation face to face without freaking people out.  I don’t get the nuances of eye contact (generally I avoid eye contact lest I be accused of staring,) and I also have real problems with sending the right body language.  Non-verbals for me are a learned skill from years of observation and interaction and do not come naturally.  I have to consciously think about and orchestrate all my non-verbal signals constantly when I deal with people face to face in order to communicate effectively.  For most people eye contact and physical gestures come naturally, almost subliminally, without thinking about it.  For me, if left to my own devices, I would simply observe others with a bit of a catatonic stare until or unless I have something to say.  Electronic communication is so much easier for me because I can simply concentrate on what I would like to convey rather than worry about whether or not I’m staring into space or standing at a weird angle.

I may not be responding, but I do hear you- with some reservations.  If I want to, and if I’m not focusing on whatever song’s stuck in my head, that is.

So my interactions with law enforcement (fortunately for me they have been precious few,) are usually limited to staring at the ground or off to the side and saying “yes, sir, Officer” at the appropriate times.  I’ve only gotten out of a speeding ticket once, and that was because I was working as a driver and the cop knew my boss.  Knock on Formica or whatever that plastic looking stuff is, but the last time I got busted for any kind of traffic violation I was nine months pregnant (my son was born on the same day they would have wanted me to appear in court) and was pulled over for running a yellow light.  Of course the cop could obviously tell I was preggers- I looked like a battleship- but all I could do was keep from giving him the stink-eye, sign the damned ticket and keep on going.  I don’t do tears on demand. Even when crying is the correct response, I usually can’t.  I break down after the crisis has passed, and sometimes it takes years for the tears to find their way out.

This strategy- even if I would dare to try it- is not open to me.

I don’t think that crying is the correct response when you get busted anyway, but it works for some women.

I just didn’t have the physical energy or the emotional strength to explain to this primadouche just-out-of-the-academy-looking-for-someone-to-bust cop that going through a yellow light is legal.   The cop didn’t need to know I wasn’t supposed to be driving at all, (I had pre-eclampsia, had been in and out of the hospital for sky-high blood pressure, and was supposed to be on strict bed rest) but I had to go out because my POS ex was too lazy to go to the grocery store, or to help unload the car, or really do much of anything else besides suck up valuable oxygen and whine (yeah, I sure know how to pick ’em, but Jerry is a nominal upgrade to some degree- at least Jerry showers regularly and he hasn’t morphed into Jabba the Hut.)   I sent the bastards their check for $125- because knowing the good-ol-boy system in the town I’m from, you might as well just pay it, because who is the judge going to getting paid to believe? (This was before the days of surveillance cameras everywhere, so I had no way of documenting for posterity that the light was yellow and all that.) It would have been my luck- even had I not been in the hospital that day- that the cop would actually have shown up in court and I’d had to pay the ticket and court costs too.  Sometimes local government sucks just as much as government in higher places.

I can go on with this subject too, but suffice to say I don’t have the gold, so I don’t make the rules.  Too bad.

I am a really paranoid driver, partially because of that incident.  I’d like to drive like I did when I was a young punk out on the back roads, where your worst fear would be running off the road into a drainage ditch, where your nominally decomposed corpse might be found in a few weeks, but those days are over.  The cops have GPS and helicopters now.  Besides, a Yaris isn’t exactly a rally car.

Unless you’re in Thailand.

That is whacked, but I guess with enough suspension mods and such, you could make  a Yaris into a rally car.  But mine is more geared for basic transportation, and as a forum for my mobile political commentary.  Since I have to drive, and I’m pretty slow, some people just might get an education just from reading the back of my car.

German does sound scary, but remember, English is a derivative of German.

I enjoy language and its nuances, probably more so than most because I don’t do well with the non-verbal and emotional sides of communication.  Interacting with dogs has helped me immensely because in order to communicate with them I have to cue in on their non-verbals, which are easier to read because theirs are far more exaggerated than humans’.  I learn a lot from them.  Subtlety is not their nature.

Sheena is as subtle as a freight train.

This morning I was thinking about all the personalities in history who were true believers- in all the wrong things.  I can’t help but to observe that it really doesn’t matter if your heart is in the right place, if your head is up your ass.   A good example of this phenomenon are the crazy people who think that if they die in the process of killing “infidels” that they go to heaven and collect 70 virgins.  Faith is not something that comes easy to me, but I would find it hard to believe that God intends for people to completely check their brains at the door.  Why would God have actually bothered to give us brains if He didn’t intend for us to use them?  And then there’s Dennis Kucinich, for whom logic cannot offer a suitable explanation.  There’s plenty of shithouse-rat-crazy people out there who will believe any sort of clap trap if the right talking head is blathering away (Obama supporters who still don’t get that he’s anti-American, the Heaven’s Gate followers, white supremacists, and so on.)

I wonder if the Visitors have picked him up yet.

I think I get it why so many analytical/rational types are secular humanists.  They get the logic that good is better than evil, but they can’t prove or disprove the existence of a Creator or Higher Power.  The only problem with secular humanism is that it degrades into utilitarianism very quickly.  There is no room in a utilitarian economy for the aesthetic- for beauty, or art, or emotion.  Even though I’m a rational type, even I need something beyond the get up, go to work, go to bed routine that most of us are beholden to.  To deny there is a sphere beyond our understanding is to indulge in the ultimate human hubris- to claim we are the be-all, end-all of the universe- when our best secular explanation for creation involves an ex nihilo big bang from the depths of nowhere.  I’m not a creationist in the 6 days, Adam and Eve made from real mud, wandering naked in the Garden with all the wild animals sense.  It would have been cool, but I don’t think creation happened that way. I don’t take the Garden account of Genesis as being literal (I do believe it to be a beautiful allegory) but I think it does tell us much about the Whom involved, if not so much the How or the Why.

Naked with all the little critters of nature.  Just imagine all the mosquitoes and fleas in places where insects are totally unauthorized.

I would rather acknowledge and embrace the mystery.  I would rather take Pascal’s Wager and assume that God IS, than to have to live in a world having decided that He is not.  While I cannot prove His existence, I cannot disprove it either, and I’d rather err on the side of embracing the mystery.

Belief in and of itself is neutral, but I think that God gave us brains to inform our beliefs, so that we are neither beholden to blind emotionalism or locked into pragmatic utilitarianism.

I do find it a bit ironic that the same people who will defy thousands of years of moral teaching vehemently despise those who still think there is value in that moral teaching, and are enraged when traditionalists speak out.

I’m OK with admitting there are black and whites, and I will gladly share my take on morality should anyone ask.  I know people disagree with me, and vehemently on some issues.  That is their prerogative.  There are some people who don’t believe morality is relevant any more and nothing I say- or that I can back up with scientific fact- is going to change their opinions.  If you want to have a relationship with a Ford Escort, or dress like a furry, or pretty much whatever, as long as you aren’t killing people, you’re not charging me for it, and you leave me alone, knock yourself out.  Just don’t expect me to announce to the world how wonderful your life choices are.

A Moral Quandary, Humor in Unlikely Places, and Victorian Ways to Die

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  I do not like him, Sam I Am.  I’d rather vote for green eggs and ham.

Alright, here lately my emotional (yes I do have some) and thought lives have been a bit of turmoil lately.  Yesterday, I discovered, to my disbelief and disappointment that not only is Obama going to be sliming around in Ohio yet again, he’s also showing up at Capital University.  For those not familiar with the Columbus area, Capital is a Lutheran university (that gets some of its funding from the Lutheran church) and also the home of Trinity Lutheran Seminary.

Capital is known for its prestigious law school and its high academic standards, so it would stand to reason that they would want the opportunity to host a sitting president (though it’s a shame that the president they’re hosting is the Worst Ever.)  But when I got wind of who was promoting the event- Obama for America (what an oxymoron there, but I digress) I was truly disturbed.  This is not going to be a chance for Christians to ask Obama the hard questions regarding defending life, the economy, foreign policy and national defense.  It’s going to be another KoolAid swilling Obama-love fest- otherwise he would never have agreed to show up.  Now I know how the people at Notre Dame must have felt when Obama invaded their campus.  But no matter how much I loathe his policies and how deeply I believe he is evil and wrong, after much soul searching, prayer and thinking it through, it’s probably good that he is speaking there even though he will be spouting off the same rhetoric and lies as always, and the “other side” will not be represented.

Romney visited the Capital campus back in February and spoke (though he didn’t call it a “rally” necessarily, he didn’t travel to what most people consider to be Cow Town for leisure.)  So at least I know that both “sides” are getting an opportunity to speak, which tempered my response quite a bit.  After all, law is all about debate, and even if one “side” is fatally flawed they do deserve to be heard.  What grieves my heart (and yes, I do actually sort of have one) is that political rhetoric from either “side” requires people to engage critical thought.  A critical thinker is very likely to see the techniques Obama uses to deceive people and to call him out.  I know I’m tired of the blame game and the race baiting and class warfare that Obama relies upon, because I see it for what it is.  He has no vision other than failed socialism, and nothing to offer except the promise of being Santa Claus to the entitlement crowd.  My fear is that there are still too many people who have not engaged critical thought and who still believe the lies even though the evidence is clear that Obama’s policies are failed.

Why not try thanking God that Americans were never really into the guillotine?

Yet, as we’ve seen with Obama’s court jester, Joe Biden, he’s becoming his own worst enemy.  Biden is simply a dull buffoon whose singular talent is making an ass of himself, which is funny.  At least Biden provides some comic relief.  Obama is humorless even when he screws up, but the more frustrated he gets and the more threatened he feels, the more he says stupid things- stupid things that he knows better than to say, but that he actually believes, such as the “you didn’t build that” epithet directed at small business.  The more pandering, strident and vicious Obama gets, the more his true colors shine forth.  This venomous snake is going to grow some longer fangs.  Obama will get nasty, and he will go ad hominem even more than he already has.  Maybe for the first time some people will wake up- but not until Obama offends their emotions.  Some people are going to need to move beyond the myriad logical arguments against Obama, because some people don’t rely on logic before emotion.  The emotionally oriented people out there might just need to see his frustration and experience that red fire of hate for this country and what it stands for as it shines in his eyes.  It will come to that point as “Emperor” Barry sinks lower and lower in the polls and more and more people aren’t afraid to stand on the roof top and scream, “The ‘Emperor’ is NAKED!”

Obama’s going to self-implode.  And he’s going to do it to himself.  As much as I detest him sliming around Ohio, especially at a Lutheran seminary, the more he opens his mouth, the more he’s going to incriminate himself and alienate the electorate.

Let him keep on spewing his tired rhetoric and hot air.  He’s standing in his little boat, shooting holes in the bottom, and wondering why it’s sinking.

On a lighter note, I think Obama might want to consider a new frontier:

(It’s OK if you want to leave early, as long as you take Joe and Hillary with you.)

I am more fascinated with postmortem photography and other creepy stuff from the Victorian era than I should be.  I’m not the only one though, because there are positively tons of this stuff all over the internet.  Actual prints (rather than the .jpg scans that I troll for) of people who died 150 years ago go for big money, even if you have no clue who the dead people are.  Most of the people in my family were too poor to even afford taking pictures of dead people, so I don’t have too many pictures taken before 1960 or so of my actual relatives available to me.  Dad has a box of Grandma’s old pics, but he’s not had time to go through them to identify the ones he can so I can scan them.  Most of those pics are from the 50’s and 60’s.

Probably the worst things about the Victorian era were the daily presence of death, and the really nasty ways people died.  Today most people don’t die from a case of Montezuma’s Revenge, but in those times crapping yourself to death was a very common way to die.  Cholera, typhoid and typhus were all common mechanisms of death brought on by ignorance of hygiene and squalid living conditions.  Infant mortality was sky-high because if a child developed any type of dysentery it usually led to death, as well as scarlet fever, rheumatic fever and measles were common, and deadly.  Antibiotics were not discovered until the 1940’s.

If a person were injured in an industrial or farm accident their chances of dying were pretty good as well.  The only treatment for a mangled limb was amputation- if the shock of the amputation wasn’t enough to kill you, the infection that set in your stump usually did.  Sepsis and communicable disease killed more soldiers in the Civil War than were killed in combat.

It’s all going to be OK…well maybe not so much…grab that rusty saw, Dave!

I would wonder how many people got tetanus from having a limb chopped off with a rusty saw.  People died from tetanus back then, as well as from rabies, tuberculosis, syphilis, you name it.  And worst of all, they only bathed three or four times a year.

Brains! Brains! Brains!