"Rich People: Shut Up Now"

Xandtrek, sometimes commenter here at Dada's, has an excellent post today over on Grass Roots Press entitled "Rich People: Shut Up Now".

The only regret I have about it is the venue in which she presented it. Because it's on the Grass Roots Press website, Xandtrek maintained the decorum such an alternative press publication should, I suppose. Hence, "Rich People: Shut Up Now" is it's title, instead of "Rich People: Shut The Fuck Up Now". The civility continues throughout the piece. But then, I'm not one to put words in people's mouths, am I?

"My mind is going. I can feel it, Dave." (from "2001: A Space Odyssey")

As debate grows on how to best prepare ourselves, with particular emphasis on the readiness of our youth, for the upcoming Reagan/Bush/Clinton/Bush/Obama post-apocalyptic world just around the corner, Onion offers up the following video.

(Please note: this discussion focuses not on the more common survival meme of everyone cultivating any available space for the planting of pickles and pasta gardens, plus the domestication of lizards and small rodents for subsistence snacking, but rather how to effectively co-exist (or not) with others who have managed to weather the initial total collapse of world civilization as we knew it.)


Are Violent Video Games Adequately Preparing Children For The Apocalypse?

Sunrise in the 'hood

Monday, February 23, 2009:  This morning's sunrise in the 'hood as it was unexpected-

ly stabbed multiple times by telephone poles and Italian cypresses lying in ambush. 

Amen!

Sean Penn shown with his wife, actress Robin Wright-Penn, in the 

audience  as he accepted the Academy Award for Best Actor last night.  

"....for those who saw the signs of hatred, ah, as our cars drove in tonight, I think it is a good time for those who voted for the ban against gay marriage to sit and reflect and anticipate their great shame and the shame in their grandchildren's eyes if they continue that way of support. We've got to have equal rights for everyone."

 

Why we have a U.S. State Department (and pay them well), reason number 37:

With deaths in the drug-war torn city of Juarez approaching 2,000 since January, 2008, making it one of the most dangerous places on Earth, the State Department took the following action Friday:

"The U.S. State Department has renewed a travel advisory warning Americans about an increase in violence along the U.S.-Mexico border.

"The alert does not recommend staying away from the country or any particular part of it, but advises Americans to stay away from prostitution and drug-dealing areas."

So I guess it's okay to cross the border to buy your prescription drugs and pinatas, but for Pete's sake -- and your own (!) -- when it comes to those other drugs and sex, just stay home and "Buy American!"

Juarez drug war update

Juarez police chief, Robert Orduña Cruz, whose police force was threatened by drug war operatives with the murder of one of his officers every forty-eight hours until he quit, said in his resignation speech Friday, "I cannot place my sense of duty above the lives of my officers."

On Tuesday 150 expended shell casings were found at the scene of the assassination of police operations director Sacramento Perez Serrano and three other officers.

Police chief Orduña Cruz also also said during his resignation announcement, "We will not permit any criminal organization to interfere with the work of law enforcement."

(NOTE: While Dada finds this last statement contradictory to his actions, I believe Orduña Cruz, in retiring, may have made a very wise decision.)

Notes from the 'hood.

Just three blocks from Dada's, the underside of a freeway overpass with its
graciously sixteen columned contemporary architecture beckons all with its plea:
~~~~~
"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me.
I lift my lamp beside the golden door."
(Probably a reference to the stop lights just outside its entrance. ~Dada)

~~~~~

My mother-in-law dropped by the Dada's yesterday afternoon. As usual, we had a pleasant visit. But more and more the pleasant visits are of unpleasant things. Like yesterday's.

M-I-L had just come from the grocery store. She remarked on the increasing prices. I responded how more and more I notice each time there, some item's shelf space is empty. Completely out of stock. Like eggs. And I wonder if people are just making more omelets.

And then I brought up a story I'd heard earlier in the day of a person who went to pick up her prescription only to learn the drugstore had none.

"And it won't help to go to the other drugstore," the pharmacist warned, "because they're out too!"

"Imagine, some drugs are a matter of life and death for some people. What if this is a trend that worsens?" Mrs. Dada pondered. "Yeah," was all I could think to respond.

I then brought up another story I'd heard of an out-of-work woman who'd lost her home and was living out of her car. That is, until a police officer spotted her expired plates of several months. She had no insurance either. She watched, pleading, crying, as her car was towed away, leaving her with a few plastic bags containing her sole possessions at her feet in the middle of a strip mall parking lot.

It was then mother-in-law told of her housekeeper's husband and several other co-workers who got the axe at work. His job of 15 years was cut after a new office manager was hired to make budget cuts. Then my M-I-L related the story of a very distraught neighbor who will be moving soon. Her house is in foreclosure. She doesn't know where she will be living.

At this point, I thought it might be nice to escape the conversation for a few minutes. I volunteered to run M-I-L's car up to the corner 7-11's Fina pumps and fill her gas tank. At 84, she doesn't pump anymore. As I drew the $1.95 a gallon gas, my glance over at the fellow next to me doing the same collided with his for the third time, so I decided to say, "Beautiful car you have there!" It was a Bright Red, 2009 Nissan Z® Coupe 370Z™ roadster.

"Thanks," but I get a little tired of making the payments," he said. When I got home, I checked the price tag on his car: between 30 and 38 thousand dollars depending on the model (and excluding tax, title and license). I wondered if he'd be able to hang on to it in the months ahead.

Photo from September, 2007 of raw land next to the 7-11 and freeway overpass. The yellow
sign announcing a "shopping center coming soon" has since kept its promise. The vacant lot
has been replaced by a vacant strip mall. Its only tenants: a liquor store, a Cricket cellular
phone storefront, and a Chinese restaurant promising for the past 6-7 months that it will be
"Opening Soon." (Note: Dada's yearnings for pork fried rice and chicken chow mein have long
long since passed.)

I decided to stop at the liquor store in the new vacant strip mall. As one of only two tenants there, its owner must feel a little lonely at times, so Dada makes it a point to stop by regularly to shore up his spirits. Having discovered it as a source of a good India Pale Ale (by Widmer's), I'm doing my part to keep the guy in business, but I can't do it alone!

This day the store held a surprise. That's because when I opened the door to enter I ran into another door, a heavy metal security screen door that hadn't been there before. I used the door that almost bloodied my nose as a source of conversation. And I was surprised to learn what the owner told me. Having had one booze run toward the end of '08, seems January '09 saw several runs on the store. And not just for beer. I wondered if the 7-11 just next door has seen a decrease in beer runs, because Sun Valley Liquors offers heavier more condensed stuff, making it easier to steal more.

I also wondered if maybe the increased hits in January weren't just folks keeping their New Year's resolutions to drink more free liquor. The owner said he'd wanted to install a door that he could lock from the inside by pushing a button under the counter, but was told by the fire department those doors are against code. When I got home, I railed to Mrs. Dada, "Why can't you lock yourself in your own liquor store if you want to?" Mrs. Dada responded, "....Lock yourself in with guys stealing from you?" She had a good point.

I also wondered that these guys, who only want booze now, might want money by the summer, as the owner told me of the Stop N Go a mile down the road: Open 24 hours per day, they've started locking their doors at 10:00 each night so you must "knock" if you need bread, cokes or smokes because of all the beer runs they've been experiencing. But that's probably because of their prime "location, location, location," i.e., they're at the intersection of two major highways -- aka escape routes.

~~~~~

Oh well, things could be worse. This could be Juarez. Juarez where Tuesday's drug war victims numbered 10, including the Juarez police director and three of his fellow officers who were gunned down in broad daylight, a body that was found smoldering in the central part of the city and, for the second time in two days, the bodies (or was it heads? ~ Dada forgets) of two decapitated men discovered in a city park, making wise the advice that before you take your kids to the park to play you should know a lot of "heads" hang out there.

~~~~~

In a nearby parallel Universe....

I got this map from some kind of fringe group (i.e., "fringe" as in any group outside the accepted two party political system of the United States). It shows those states (in dark blue) that have either submitted for consideration, or already passed, a bill reaffirming their state's rights under the Tenth Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. (Those in light blue are states considering putting forth such legislation in reaffirmation of their rights. )

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Tenth Amendment is part of the Bill of Rights and was ratified on December 15, 1791. It states the Constitution’s principle of Federalism by providing that powers not granted to the national government nor prohibited to the states are reserved to the states and to the people. It is based on an earlier provision of the Articles of Confederation: “Each state retains its sovereignty, freedom, and independence, and every power, jurisdiction, and right, which is not by this Confederation expressly delegated to the United States, in Congress assembled.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Having tried globalism and now in the onset of suffering the dire consequences of its massive failure, Dada sometimes fantasizes about taking it all in the opposite direction -- towards a more localized system of governments.

Imagine the 50 U.S. states becoming a group of smaller nation states, say, 4, 5, 8, or 12 little "baby states" (independent of Hawaii and Alaska, of course, who may want to join Polynesia and/or Canada or Russia, respectively).

While opting for more tribalism may not be any more successful than the one government "New World Order" bullshit crammed down our throats the last 3, 4, or 5 decades, it does offer some tempting contemplations we ought to give a chance.

For example, can you imagine Montana declaring it is sending 30,000 more troops into Afghanistan? Or how about the following headline:

"It is being reported an incident that occurred last week and heretofore kept secret until now has revealed the object a British nuclear sub struck while on maneuvers in the North Sea was that of the Oklahoma nuclear attack submarine, the UCO Anita Bryant."

Birthing a different currency, or: "How I learned to stop worrying and love the new economy!"

Mid-autumn, 2009. The U.S. dollar's value is snowballing lower and lower, faster and faster. It is rapidly becoming worth less. Each day, the faith citizens have placed in their paper currency for more than 200 years becomes worth less than the day before. But today, as Stewart Allen will learn, is the first day the dollar has become totally worthless. And he will be the first to make a purchase without money!

*****

As Stewart Allen dismounted his bike and entered the otherwise deserted 7-11, the last of its kind in a crumbling suburb of northeastern El Paso, he was pleased to spy his favorite candy bar. Taking the last Payday from the shelf, he walked it to the counter where he laid it atop a $10 bill.

Moving nothing but his eyes from the Payday on the counter to Stewart, the clerk sat motionless, staring at him coldly.

"Is there a problem?" Stewart asked.

"I need another $13 the clerk demanded."

It was at that point Stewart's frustration at the unbearable demands from everyone everywhere for more and more of his money -- money he didn't have -- for things that cost six bits just six months ago that Stewart's anger finally erupted.

"But last month a Payday was only $8!" Stewart protested. "I don't have another $13 for Christ's sake! I've lost my job, my family's lost their home, and you want $23 for a few peanuts in caramel? What will you want from me next time, my blood?"

That happened just a second before the clerk passed his breaking point, too. No longer able to enter price changes into store computers faster than they were increasing, having to work three and a half hours in a dying 7-11 just to make enough for a god-damned candy bar while contending all day with bitchy customers stunned at their inability to afford items they wanted, no - desperately needed, but could no longer afford, he lost it.

"Eight dollar Paydays were last month!" the clerk shouted as he bounded over the counter toward a stunned Stewart. With a punch that landed squarely on his jaw, the clerk stared down at Stewart on the floor shouting, "And this is NOW, you bastard!"

Grabbing him by his belt and scruff of his jacket collar, the clerk dragged Stewart out the front door as his head collided with the pavement in a small puddle of blood.

Seconds later the door reopened. Stewart detected something land next to him. Lifting his head, he spotted his crumpled $10 bill. He then felt something hit him squarely in the middle of his back.

"And here's your fucking Payday!" the clerk snarled.

Putting his head back on the pavement, Stewart contemplated all that had just happened. A subtle smile crept across his face. Lying there as his blood stained the amply stained oily asphalt, Stewart realized the people's faith in paper money was at last lost.

Stewart had just made his first purchase with the new currency -- his body.

Los Tres Bloggeros: Everybody Knows!

(NOTE: Los Tres Bloggeros - Border Explorer, eProf, and I are each posting a blog today as inspired by Leonard Cohen's, "Everybody Knows". It's a song I'd never heard of until eProf suggested I take a listen. After doing so, I confess, what I took from it was nothing less than a total validation of my cynicism! Please be sure to check Border Explorer's and eProf's excellent blogs today. )

*****

Birthing a different currency, or: "How I learned
to stop worrying and love the new economy!"

Mid-autumn, 2009. The U.S. dollar's value is snowballing lower and lower, faster and faster. It is rapidly becoming worth less. Each day, the faith citizens have placed in their paper currency for more than 200 years becomes worth less than the day before. But today, as Stewart Allen will learn, is the first day the dollar has become totally worthless. And he will be the first to make a purchase without money!

*****

As Stewart Allen dismounted his bike and entered the otherwise deserted 7-11, the last of its kind in a crumbling suburb of northeastern El Paso, he was pleased to spy his favorite candy bar. Taking the last Payday from the shelf, he walked it to the counter where he laid it atop a $10 bill.

Moving nothing but his eyes from the Payday on the counter to Stewart, the clerk sat motionless, staring at him coldly.

"Is there a problem?" Stewart asked.

"I need another $13 the clerk demanded."

It was at that point Stewart's frustration at the unbearable demands from everyone everywhere for more and more of his money -- money he didn't have -- for things that cost six bits just six months ago that Stewart's anger finally erupted.

"But last month a Payday was only $8!" Stewart protested. "I don't have another $13 for Christ's sake! I've lost my job, my family's lost their home, and you want $23 for a few peanuts in caramel? What will you want from me next time, my blood?"

That happened just a second before the clerk passed his breaking point, too. No longer able to enter price changes into store computers faster than they were increasing, having to work three and a half hours in a dying 7-11 just to make enough for a god-damned candy bar while contending all day with bitchy customers stunned at their inability to afford items they wanted, no - desperately needed, but could no longer afford, he lost it.

"Eight dollar Paydays were last month!" the clerk shouted as he bounded over the counter toward a stunned Stewart. With a punch that landed squarely on his jaw, the clerk stared down at Stewart on the floor shouting, "And this is NOW, you bastard!"

Grabbing him by his belt and scruff of his jacket collar, the clerk dragged Stewart out the front door as his head collided with the pavement in a small puddle of blood.

Seconds later the door reopened. Stewart detected something land next to him. Lifting his head, he spotted his crumpled $10 bill. He then felt something hit him squarely in the middle of his back.

"And here's your fucking Payday!" the clerk snarled.

Putting his head back on the pavement, Stewart contemplated all that had just happened. A subtle smile crept across his face. Lying there as his blood stained the amply stained oily asphalt, Stewart realized the people's faith in paper money was at last lost.

Stewart had just made his first purchase with the new currency -- his body.

"Everybody Knows" (about blind faith, because we all have it)

Later today I am to post a blog here while two others, Border Explorer and eProf (aka Los Tres Bloggeros when doing something like this) will simultaneously post blogs. Nobody knows exactly what the other has written, but the stimulus for these blogs was to be the song by Leonard Cohen, "Everybody Knows". This is the sole springboard, or "hook" as Border Explorer would say, from which each of us took our inspiration. I suspect each blog will be about something very important to its author. (And I suppose mine is hinted at by the above title.)

Dada missed this important story yesterday
on the plaza in downtown El Paso at noon.

Photos: Courtesy of Newspaper Tree

******

The two Americas, part 37: Just curious....

....if anyone reading this believes corrupt judges who were filling privately run detention centers with kids they sent there while receiving compensation from the prisons profiting by incarcerating those youths (without proper legal representation) will: Spend one fucking day of the seven years behind bars they are eligible for?

(Hint: Dada suggests if you're a gambling person, always bet the bank on the side of the "mores and have mores -- powers that be" in the world's greatest example of a nation "of the people, by the people and for the people!")

Vocabulary lesson no. 37, to "Brett Favre" someone

Brett Favre, a verb

~ To cause to accept what is false, to misrepresent, most often unintentionally; to beguile, deceive, or hoodwink but not really mean it, as in "I didn't mean to 'Brett Favre' you by saying Iraq had weapons of mass destruction, I was just pretty sure they did."

(Dada says: As a huge fan of Brett Favre, it is noted at the end of the 2006 NFL season, a teary-eyed Brett Favre hinted he'd played his last pro-football game, causing me to share his grief, i.e., I teared up with him. But he was wrong. Hence, after the end of the 2007 NFL season and missing the Super Bowl by, perhaps, one errant pass in an over-time playoff game to the NY Giants, Brett Favre confirmed in the spring of 2008 he'd played his last pro-football game.

But he was wrong again. After a promising start, disappointing finish with the NY Jets, Brett Favre has once more retired. Dada hopes he is not just Brett Favre-ing us, thanks him for years of incredible record setting football, and wishes him a long career as a Fox-Sunday NFL announcer!)

Never forget you buddy. You were one of the all-time greats to play the game. Thanks for the memories!

Los Tres Bloggeros!

Electronic "lines" are a lot like international borders. They're invisible and if one decides to cross 'em, they may meet with very mixed results. From gunshots, international incidents or sometimes, if one is very lucky, with more positive outcomes that can expand and enrich one's personal horizons by actually moving those borders, like the 1846 results of the Mexican - American War. But seriously...

...In the very early 90's Mrs. Dada and I crossed the electronic line twice with mixed results, once ending up as judges in an interscholastic speech tournament, another time in a rendezvous at a New Mexican hamburger joint. More recently, Mrs. Dada and I spent a very positive and interesting afternoon getting to know "a ball of light" (ABOL), occasional commenter here on Dada's, during his visit to Las Cruces last fall.

On the way to Las Cruces, one skirts the southern end of the
"badlands of New Mexico" from Marty Robbins 1959 hit song, El Paso .

So, fresh from a positive encounter with ABOL, it was with excitement -- and a tinge of trepidation when -- several months ago, eProf promised (or threatened) a trip into the badlands of New Mexico. His primary purpose? To meet me and fellow local blogger, Border Explorer (we hoped)! Last Thursday, along with Mrs. eProf, he made good on that promise.

(eProf, who through his avatar, bears a
strong resemblance to Aristotle!)

We agreed to meet between 3:30 and 4:00 at the High Desert Brewing Co. in Las Cruces. The Dada's had excellent company during our 45 minute jaunt -- The Border Explorers had agreed to join us! Upon arrival at the High Desert, we realized, while he'd seen pictures of B.E. and Dada on our blogs, no one really knew what eProf looked like. It was then B.E., Mrs. Dada, or somebody suggested "Just look for someone resembling a Greek Bust of Aristotle!" We all got a good laugh out of that one.

As with our meeting with ABOL in the fall, we also arranged to have Las Crucens, "Tom" and "Brenda", writers & performers of last autumn's smash YouTube hit, "Redneck from Wasilla," join us. (When crossing electronic lines with people you've never met before, it's always good to have several "witnesses" present, lest eProf's intentions were something less than represented, i.e., he was really an agent of the FBI, CIA, or NSA instead.)

"The Tres Bloggeros", Dada, Border Explorer, and eProf!

It wasn't long before we were joined by "Tom and Brenda" and the eProfs. Border Explorer, like the true sport she is, bought the first pitcher of ale, just as promised months earlier if such a meeting were to ever occur. It soon became apparent, between "Los Tres Bloggeros" there would be no shortage of things to talk about. We had well over 180 years of experiences to catch up on! Throwing in the other 300 years of those present and we realized we wouldn't quite make it in one afternoon. We agreed to meet again on Saturday in El Paso at the Dada's.

My editor, Sam, gets a few tips from eProf as they
discuss the most recent technical advances in blog editing.

As Saturday arrived, we were all excited (again) as we had been on Thursday by our meeting at the High Desert. But our excitement this day was amplified through Dada's blog editor, Sam. Sam had had to forgo our Thursday get together. Mostly because I'd left him with a couple of editing assignments. And while he deeply appreciates good beer, equal rights for dogs has not yet been been achieved. Sam would have had to drink his beer outside on the High Desert's patio. (What do you think this is? France, for Pete's sake?)

We were again joined by Border Explorer and the eProfs, each of whom presented Dada with a most excellent bottle of red wine. (Yum! and thank you both.) And Sam, always happy to welcome new people to the house was especially pleased with a chance to discuss blog editing with both bloggers, plus enjoy some of the cheese and snacks shared by all.

Los Tres Bloggeros enjoyed great conversation, drink and a little food over two days.

Much conversation ensued. One of my favorite topics (that will have to get more airing next reunion) was our discussion of, what else (?), other bloggers and their blogs. Folks like Fran and her "Ramblings," The PT Cruiser, those great redheaded bloggers, Utah Savage, the late Maria, Maria, Jude, and others I am far less familiar with, but enjoyed hearing and learning more about from my compadres. They left me wishing others could have joined us, too.

The evening adjourned to a local restaurant where afterwards we exchanged our "Adios' !" in the parking lot.

In summary, it was truly a very refreshing weekend with many wonderful people. EProf mentioned the outside possibility of another trip this way later in the spring before the Border Explorers break camp for Iowa. We hope there's a chance that may actually happen. If so, we will definitely be looking forward to a repeat!

My thanks to all who partook of these two festive days. As agreed upon by Los Tres Bloggeros, Border Explorer, and eProf are blogging about this today also. If you haven't already, pay 'em a visit, just as I plan to do after posting this one.

One of the things in the upcoming Greatest Depression I won't miss...

OK, let's get beyond the civility. Civility was nice these past (almost) four years of blogging, even though hard to maintain at times. I confess I wasn't always able to. There were a few times I slipped and slipped badly.

But times have changed. We now live in a very, very different world. This isn't 2005 anymore when we thought we could borrow the Treasury out of insolvency while bombing the shit out of nations based on false pretenses and sending American troops to their deaths and woundings as if we could have both global domination and national bankruptcy (financially + morally!) at the same time.

It was sweet, thinking we could do these things: afford to slaughter innocents wherever, whenever we desired without sacrificing anything on the home front (save for our credibility, way of life and our Constitution).

So we thought. But those days are past. Now the chickens have come home to roost and "Holy Shit, Batman!" it turns out the realization we actually DO NEED TO SACRIFICE has suddenly caught up with our asses. And it turns out we will be paying through our noses and noses for years and years to come while struggling -- many of us -- just to survive -- if we do! (Some of us won't!)

As horrendous as it all is, watching our lives and the veneer of our civility crack and peel away, give thanks! There will be a few bright advantages to our plight, as we are reminded by the following video from The Onion.

Oh, and never feel so smug that you're above it all. Many of us will be economically blindsided in ways we can't even see coming. Remember: A draining bathtub strands all ships (and rubber duckies)!


Sony Releases New Stupid Piece Of Shit That Doesn't Fucking Work

(NOTE: Dada wishes to thank The Onion for helping me keep my New Year's resolution -- "I promise to be less optimistic. I promise to be more careful about what and who I do(n't) love...and certainly, I will be less cheerful.")

*********

Dada is taking the day to relearn about his own metaphors

Thanks to "Stephen" for interpreting Dada's
previous blog for me, "It's all so (ir) 'relative'!"

It's all so (ir) "relative"!

An ugly little insect's demise: Perhaps an irresis-
tible attraction? Or maybe simply its "time"?

This morning while making my first cup of coffee, I had a momentary distraction. As water was heating on the stove in a small pan, an annoying anorexic looking mosquito-like insect with a priapismic "beak" that could only make one hope it was a vegetarian flew past my coffee press that was sitting atop my cup awaiting its deposit of 185 degree water.

"Oh no, don't fly into my press!" my brain's excited voice screamed into my unprotected inner ear.

He didn't. But the next pass this ugly little creature made was towards the heating pan of water. Again, I pleaded, "Oh no, not my coffee water!" Miraculously, the insect obliged, making a low pass over the warming steam beginning to rise from the water's surface.

But what happened next saw a total emotional flip from concern for my coffee to angst for the bug's safety as it descended straight for the stove top's burner. I now found myself imploring the little one to "Pull up, pull up! Don't go towards the flame!" This time my pleadings, my warning, went unheeded. The insect landed just outside the stove top burner's ring.

I watched as its now rigid little body lie there, motionless. I assumed the worse, but in the next couple of seconds as I turned away and then back, I was surprised to see it was gone! That is, until I spotted a lifeless form in its final resting spot, inside the burner's ring, too close to the flame burning beneath my small pan of simmering water.

It was in that moment I felt very, very saddened, because in just those few seconds I had become connected to a "bug" -- at first annoying, then engrossing in what turned out to be its last dramatic moments. And all of this life-and-death drama had unfolded as Mrs. Dada slept peacefully in a back bedroom.

Suddenly, the photo of an Olympic swimming champion supporting the drug war just across our border where people are dying unnecessarily in large numbers as he was photographed smoking a joint that's going to cost him bundles of money in commercial sponsorships, or the admission by superstar status athlete A-Rod that he was under so much pressure "to perform heroically" he felt compelled to inject performance drugs, or John McCain's kicking of Obama's ass after he, Obama, had gone out of his way to kiss McCain's who returned the favor by trashing the president's stimulus package saying "I think this can only be described as generational theft" after the eight years of Bush economics that this nation will likely never recover from, let alone survive, seemed for the moment so very insignificant.

Insignificant because for a few seconds I had stepped outside of my "humanity" to bear witness to the greater drama unfolding around us constantly -- the drama of Nature, the family of which we are integral members in, not just observers of.

COMING TUESDAY (OR MAYBE WEDNESDAY, POSSIBLY THURSDAY)....a grand reunion!

COMING SOON! "LOS TRES BLOGÉROS"

Wow, what a weekend! Kicking off this past Thursday afternoon in Las Cruces, NM, with the First Unbelievable Bloggers' Annual Reunion. (Whoops, damn! Dada apologizes for any confusion of that with the original acronym, "FUBAR".)

Stay tuned for details and revelation of those in attendance for the FUBAR of LOS TRES BLOGÉROS later this week -- to be revealed on the blogs of all bloggers present simultaneously!

In the middle of the dismal 2009 total economic collapse of the United States, Dada and his editor, Sam, managed to escape the gravity of the situation for a couple of days this weekend. Encounters with a most impressive list of talented people, Dada and Sam felt privileged to be amongst such personages. (Identities to be revealed soon!)

In the Dada's living room, editor Sam and I
listen intently to one of the bloggers you
all know. (NOTE: Dada took care to edit out
all wine and beer glasses on the table in
front of them.)

*****

Friday's Sunrise over the Mazda

How disappointing - only 600,000 lost their jobs in January!

Dada is thankful to the nearly 600,000 the Labor Department announced whose jobs were lost in January. While the DOW Industrial Average is up an incredible 216 points as I type this, can you imagine how the market would be soaring had a million (or more) jobs had been sacrificed!

Which leads me to ponder: Might we not create history's greatest bull market if we just axed everyone's asses in the country? Cripes, maybe I should have been an economist?

Minor world altering random events.

Recently I was "tagged" by a friend on Facebook to reveal 25 random things about myself. I usually eschew such things, but as favor to this Facebook friend, I exposed a bit of myself by writing of 25 random things. Below are three of them.

If you choose to read them, pay particular attention to numbers 3 and 24. They have been a lifetime source of guilt for Dada.

3. A day before a formal dance I'd asked my girlfriend to, I still didn't have anything to wear. I prayed for a way out of it. Later that morning, we learned JFK had been assassinated. The formal dance the next night was canceled! (I'm so really, really sorry John. For you, and all of America.)

11. Very young, my mother entered me into a Hollywood baby contest. I won the blue ribbon for "Personality Baby." Some weeks later my parents were summoned by a major studio to bring me in for a screen test. The telegram arrived late after being forwarded to my family in Oregon where we had just moved. My life has been mundane ever since, resulting in me ultimately taking up blogging.

24. On my way down from hiking a glacier, totally alone, I decided to pause and throw a Canadian dollar into one of those deep blue-green crevasses. For a coin that wouldn't be discovered by anthropologists for thousands of years hence, I decided to make a wish for world peace. Reconsidering at the last moment, I exchanged the $1.00 Canadian for a 25 cent piece. As a result peace never happened, which probably explains why anthropologists, thousands of years from now, won't discover the $0.25 Canadian I threw in a crevasse on the Athabasca Glacier in 1989 -- most likely because there won't be any anthropologists alive then.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Dada anecdote to #24 above: Later that same day, I heard the news of a man who had fallen into a deep blue-green crevasse on the glacier. Having a sack lunch with him, he managed to survive until rescued. But Dada has wondered for almost 20 years now about this man's misfortune. Perhaps my guilt of being too cheap to secure world peace for a buck was unwarranted. Perhaps that man fell in the crevasse trying to retrieve my quarter. And succeeded! Who knows, maybe world peace could have been realized for 25 cents if that bastard had just left that damn quarter down there!)

*****

NOTICE: You've been warned!

Last Thursday I was sitting at the High Desert Brewing Co with my laptop on the bar composing a blog for Dada's. As I drew a sip of my IPA, a young lady sat down next to me. She noticed me typing. Moments later, while waiting for her pint of ale, she turned and asked, "Are you a blogger?"

Reflecting for a second I replied, "Well, the window in the back of my Honda has a sticker that says 'Lefty Blogger.' For almost four years now I've been writing on this blog nearly everyday. When I'm not, I'm reading other's blogs, so I guess I am."

She said, "Well, I'm a lesbian. I spend my whole day thinking about women. As soon as I get up in the morning, I think about women. When I shower or watch TV, everything seems to make me think of women."

Later, a couple sat down next to me and one of them asked, "Are you a blogger?"

"Well, I always thought I was, but I just found out I'm a lesbian," I said.

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The lesson I learned that afternoon at the High Desert was well worth the price of two pints of India Pale Ale. It wasn't a lesson about sexual preferences. It was a lesson about the flawed wiring of my logic. Readers of Dada's Dally may want to keep that in mind when reading blogs here in the future.

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* Attribute: Today's Dada's Dally is an adaptation of a joke from the book, "Plato and a Platypus Walk Into a Bar...Understanding Philosophy Through Jokes" by Thomas Cathcart & Daniel Klein

Help save the economists: Spend your asses off!

"Please take care of my dog until I return," a home-
less woman said just before leaping from the bridge.

Note: America, economists are extremely upset with you! Don't you know saving more of your income in the face of a little financial insecurity is actually contributing to the nation's worsening economic woes? What the hell's the matter with you all?

The gist from "Good saving habits hurt, economists say," an AP article in this morning's paper: Because of your uncertainty of the future, your savings rates are increasing. Called a "paradox of thrift" (another of those delightful idioms economists love so much), it couldn't come at a worse time. America, wake the hell up! You are actually contributing to the loss of your jobs, homes and your very way of life. All because of your new miserly mien!

Dada asks: America, what the fuck's wrong with you? The quickest way out of your financial morass, this Great Depression, is for you all to "SPEND! SPEND! SPEND!" LET'S GO, YOU BASTARDS!"

Get busy! If you have charge cards below their credit limit, max them out! If not, apply for new ones and max those out! Borrow money on your home equity (if you still have one) before it declines more. Go buy a big new truck.

Let's get with it! Spend like you still have a job, health insurance, retirement savings! C'mon damn it, help the economists save your economy. You must snap out of this paradox of thrift you're now so enjoying. Quit saving all your damn money for cripes sake. Spend us out of this crapitalistic chaos, you sons of bitches!

What time's the Revolution?

(AP) The body of Rip Van Winkle, a disgruntled 35 year old air traffic controller at the time he was fired for participating in the 1981 PATCO strike, was found dead in a small cave where he had gone to sleep in the autumn of 1981.

According to coroner's reports, Van Winkle, who had left his family strick instructions to "Wake me when the Revolution begins," died in his sleep. Friends speculate Van Winkle didn't anticipate the abandonment of the revolutionary spirit that birthed the nation for the apathetic attitude it presently enjoys.

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MEANWHILE As The World Burns

Or, as Dada might caption this 'toon:

"Just throw us up a couple $trillion, we'll save you!"

"What's it for?" those desperately trying to spare themselves from drowning inquire.
"It's for 'None of your fucking business!'" comes their answer from above.

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Today's blog is inspired by an idiom attributed to John F. Kennedy used to put forth the thought that an economy that is performing well is beneficial to all. Simply stated, it is, "A rising tide lifts all boats." (from an October 3, 1963 speech). As the cartoon suggests, current economics have disproven that theory.

But it was Kennedy's testament how cutting taxes would benefit all. This evolved into Reagan's idea of cutting taxes of just the rich, or "trickle down economics" as it came to be known (the trickle being delivered by the "haves and have mores" in the form of urine, as in "Piss on you!" to those below). Market policies of "free trade" followed, accelerating the trickle of the 80's to a downpour in the 90's, culminating in The Great Flood of the 21st Century. Trickling tinkle and *free markets* are turning out far costlier than anyone imagined.

(NOTE: This part of today's blog was inspired by a conversation last Friday morning with "Brenda" of Las Cruces. She teaches one of those faux "sciences", i.e., the social science of politics, the sibling of its brother, economics, aka "the dismal science.")

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Elsewhere in the news:

Citigroup, after announcing plans to cut more than 50,000 workers from its rolls and having lost almost $19 billion in 2008, is going to pay $400 million for the NY Mets to name their new ball park in the Queens, "Citi Field." Or is it?

After receiving $45 billion in taxpayer bailout funds and a guaranteed "government backstop for more than $300 billion in loan losses," there are apparently two disgruntled congressmen who are questioning this expenditure. Reps. Dennis Kucinich, D-OH, and Ted Poe, R-TX, are urging Tim Geithner, Treasury Secretary, to intervene and stop this extravagance.

Apparently Kucinich and Poe didn't get the message from the bailout beneficiaries that they have no right to know how they spend taxpayer's money.

As a curious Rip Van Winkle might have inquired upon stirring, "Has the Revolution started yet?"
"No, Rip, go the hell back to sleep!"

Meanwhile:

After almost 2 1/2 days without a computer, this is the first headline I saw online this morning. AP Investigation: Banks sought foreign workers.

Apparently, it is being revealed the banks that received more than $150 billion in bailout money requested over 21,800 visas for the foreign workers they hired at an average salary of almost $91,000. Apparently, the banks were motivated by the money they could save as the foreign workers they hire work cheaper than Americans.

The AP report says, while the actual number is likely a fraction of the 21,800 workers the banks sought to hire because the government limits the number of visas it grants to 85,000 each year....during the last three months of 2008, the largest banks that received taxpayers loans announced more than 100,000 layoffs."

How many of those may have been foreign workers brought in to replace American jobs is unknown.

It appears Rip Van Winkle's death was a merciful thing.

(FYI: For an nice blog on how much Bush may have profited during his 8 years in office, check out Redheaded Wisdom's "the Blind leading the Blind"! )