Fox Noise Channel offers challenge-free forums for global-warming deniers, while Fox Broadcasting's TV shows run promos by actors urging viewers to go to fox.com's "green" screen to see ways people can fight global warming.
So ... one section of Fox doesn't know what other sections are doing?
From my seat in the peanut gallery, the actors are right and the "news" purveyors wrong.
I'd laugh, but it would hurt too much.
-30-
19 April 2009
14 April 2009
In defense of Prof. Harold Hill
E-mail sent to Keith Olbermann on April 14, 2009:
Hello dere, Mr. O! Please knock off comparing Glenn Beck to Howard Hill. Hill was a fast-talking traveling salesman, but the product he was selling — band instruments — was delivered. What he gipped customers on was teaching the children to play.
G.B. is an albino Snidely Whiplash — only funnier. And seriously dangerous.
-30-
Hello dere, Mr. O! Please knock off comparing Glenn Beck to Howard Hill. Hill was a fast-talking traveling salesman, but the product he was selling — band instruments — was delivered. What he gipped customers on was teaching the children to play.
G.B. is an albino Snidely Whiplash — only funnier. And seriously dangerous.
-30-
09 April 2009
Fowl murder
There's a horrid story in today's Reno Gazette-Journal: Raising chickens in your back yard.
Written by Master Gardener Melody Hefner, it makes the project sound like sooo much fun!
However ... chickens are living creatures, with brains (sort of), and needs. And they require work, work, work!
Irresponsible doesn't begin to cover the failings of Mz. Hefner and the RGJ in publishing this story.
I speak from experience; Grammie and Grampa Al had chickens at their home, a couple blocks from my home. Starting when I was 7 or so, I was expected, on most weekends, to gather eggs from the henhouse, help Grampa Al clean up the pen and aid in other chores.
It was not easy, and it was not fun.
Farm animals are a 24/7 job. And roosters are mean, vicious, fast little buggers. Although, the rooster that ripped out my thumbnail did taste pretty good the next night, served with sourdough dressing and gravy.
Here's what's going to happen: Some yahoo will buy two dozen chicks, which will starve to death once Mr. Yahoo gets tired of the novelty. Mrs. Yahoo will get sick and tired of cleaning bugs out of the house. The Yahoo children will be frustrated once they discover that chickens aren't puppies or kittens ... farm birds don't play well with others.
The birds' lives will end in pain.
And the wonderful folk at the RGJ will be co-conspirators.
-30-
Written by Master Gardener Melody Hefner, it makes the project sound like sooo much fun!
However ... chickens are living creatures, with brains (sort of), and needs. And they require work, work, work!
Irresponsible doesn't begin to cover the failings of Mz. Hefner and the RGJ in publishing this story.
I speak from experience; Grammie and Grampa Al had chickens at their home, a couple blocks from my home. Starting when I was 7 or so, I was expected, on most weekends, to gather eggs from the henhouse, help Grampa Al clean up the pen and aid in other chores.
It was not easy, and it was not fun.
Farm animals are a 24/7 job. And roosters are mean, vicious, fast little buggers. Although, the rooster that ripped out my thumbnail did taste pretty good the next night, served with sourdough dressing and gravy.
Here's what's going to happen: Some yahoo will buy two dozen chicks, which will starve to death once Mr. Yahoo gets tired of the novelty. Mrs. Yahoo will get sick and tired of cleaning bugs out of the house. The Yahoo children will be frustrated once they discover that chickens aren't puppies or kittens ... farm birds don't play well with others.
The birds' lives will end in pain.
And the wonderful folk at the RGJ will be co-conspirators.
-30-
07 April 2009
Lamebrains on the march
If I weren’t so overworked (aka lazy), I’d do a Web search to ascertain just when the epidemic of emphasizing “self-esteem” swept through the nation’s schools, then compare those years to the ages of various yahoos in the national spotlight … Sarah Palin; the cretin canned from the Virginia Republicans committee job because he twittered a secret plan to steal control of the state legislature; the delusional Glen Beck; stock creep Jim Cramer; Bobby Jindal of Louisiana; and plenty of others.
Odds are they were in school when teachers were forced to give praise to every student, earned or not.
Lamebrains in the news lately seem to have more self-esteem than smarts (book or street). They had to learn it somewhere … egos that size don’t grow without fertilizer.
Except, perhaps, for Lush Rimbaugh, Bill O’Really and Newt Gringrinch.
*** *** ***
Note to software writers: Please add an “oops” button or a “stop” button.
My ISP’s computer doesn’t much like e-mail in the middle of the night … the app grinds away, e-mail going nowhere. But there’s no way to tell the mail app to give it up.
Likewise with the digital archive I use at work … misspell a word in a search and the search goes on and on and on. I do not enjoy sitting there watching little whatsits spin and spin and spin.
Please, gimme a "whoa horsey" command.
-30-
Odds are they were in school when teachers were forced to give praise to every student, earned or not.
Lamebrains in the news lately seem to have more self-esteem than smarts (book or street). They had to learn it somewhere … egos that size don’t grow without fertilizer.
Except, perhaps, for Lush Rimbaugh, Bill O’Really and Newt Gringrinch.
*** *** ***
Note to software writers: Please add an “oops” button or a “stop” button.
My ISP’s computer doesn’t much like e-mail in the middle of the night … the app grinds away, e-mail going nowhere. But there’s no way to tell the mail app to give it up.
Likewise with the digital archive I use at work … misspell a word in a search and the search goes on and on and on. I do not enjoy sitting there watching little whatsits spin and spin and spin.
Please, gimme a "whoa horsey" command.
-30-
06 April 2009
Space case after the quake
Today’s massive earthquake in Italy leads to a “whatever happened to …” moment, which fertilized my budding skepticism and launched a fascination with believers of impossible things.
The strangest 24 hours of my life (late summer 1963, ’64 or ’65) concluded in the back room of Miguel’s Restaurant in Reno, best Mexican restaurant on the West Coast at the time. Miguel Ribera was a wonderful person and an outstanding citizen, despite his obsession with UFOs. Occasionally, he’d rent the local convention center and throw a UFO weekend. Anybody else ever meet the Indian chief who'd been to Jupiter?
After all day at the confab, friends talked me into going to the post-midnight session at Miguel’s. The main event was an L.A. group with a grand theory about aliens and Earth. The group’s name, I think: M.I.N.D. (I can’t remember what it stood for.)
The theory went something like this:
Every earthquake changed the planet’s electromagnetic fields, creating gaps through which space visitors could speak telepathically with their Earth friends.
After earthquakes, these fine, fine people hauled picnic chairs onto the roof of their houses, and waited for messages. Equipment included TV antennas and foil.
Oddly, the messages from the aliens didn’t make a lot of sense … peace, love and cigarettes, though I’m probably wrong about that. No blueprints on how to build starships.
The question occurred to me: These creatures have the knowledge and technology to come all the way to Earth, but they hide in orbit and “think” at us? They can “think” in English but they can’t build a radio or a TV transmitter?
One absurdity after another piled up as the session progressed. We escaped somewhere around 2 a.m.
I still don’t understand how people can believe nonsense such as this, but thanks to Miguel I got a first look at a cross-section of believers.
(First half of the strangest 24 hours: Seeing “The Ten Commandments” and “Hatari!” with my dad at the drive-in; we got home around 3:30 a.m. Graydon and Pat hauled me off to the UFO convention on three hours sleep. It’s a wonder I didn’t run off to join the UFO freaks.)
*** *** ***
Speaking of space aliens …
The episode of “24” on March 30 had a great in-joke. The president and her (don’t trust her, Aaron!) daughter discussed candidates for chief of staff. First name mentioned: Bob Justman. Second name: Rick Berman.
The episode was written by “24” producers Brannon Braga and Manny Coto, who became a writing team late in the “Star Trek” series string.
Bob Justman was producer of the original “Star Trek;” he did the work and the Great Bird of the Galaxy got the glory. Rick Berman was Gene Roddenberry’s hand-picked successor for producer when “Next Generation” was created.
Great producers, but White House chief of staff? Not a chance.
-30-
The strangest 24 hours of my life (late summer 1963, ’64 or ’65) concluded in the back room of Miguel’s Restaurant in Reno, best Mexican restaurant on the West Coast at the time. Miguel Ribera was a wonderful person and an outstanding citizen, despite his obsession with UFOs. Occasionally, he’d rent the local convention center and throw a UFO weekend. Anybody else ever meet the Indian chief who'd been to Jupiter?
After all day at the confab, friends talked me into going to the post-midnight session at Miguel’s. The main event was an L.A. group with a grand theory about aliens and Earth. The group’s name, I think: M.I.N.D. (I can’t remember what it stood for.)
The theory went something like this:
Every earthquake changed the planet’s electromagnetic fields, creating gaps through which space visitors could speak telepathically with their Earth friends.
After earthquakes, these fine, fine people hauled picnic chairs onto the roof of their houses, and waited for messages. Equipment included TV antennas and foil.
Oddly, the messages from the aliens didn’t make a lot of sense … peace, love and cigarettes, though I’m probably wrong about that. No blueprints on how to build starships.
The question occurred to me: These creatures have the knowledge and technology to come all the way to Earth, but they hide in orbit and “think” at us? They can “think” in English but they can’t build a radio or a TV transmitter?
One absurdity after another piled up as the session progressed. We escaped somewhere around 2 a.m.
I still don’t understand how people can believe nonsense such as this, but thanks to Miguel I got a first look at a cross-section of believers.
(First half of the strangest 24 hours: Seeing “The Ten Commandments” and “Hatari!” with my dad at the drive-in; we got home around 3:30 a.m. Graydon and Pat hauled me off to the UFO convention on three hours sleep. It’s a wonder I didn’t run off to join the UFO freaks.)
*** *** ***
Speaking of space aliens …
The episode of “24” on March 30 had a great in-joke. The president and her (don’t trust her, Aaron!) daughter discussed candidates for chief of staff. First name mentioned: Bob Justman. Second name: Rick Berman.
The episode was written by “24” producers Brannon Braga and Manny Coto, who became a writing team late in the “Star Trek” series string.
Bob Justman was producer of the original “Star Trek;” he did the work and the Great Bird of the Galaxy got the glory. Rick Berman was Gene Roddenberry’s hand-picked successor for producer when “Next Generation” was created.
Great producers, but White House chief of staff? Not a chance.
-30-
01 April 2009
The DisUnited States of America
Divided, state by state:
Yesterday's upstate New York special election to replace Hillary R.C. in the Senate is too close to call, while the Minnesota standoff continues, with the Repub-idate ready to wage unending war to keep Al F. out of the Senate. Voters in two states split half and half, Republican and Democratic.
It's time to make all the Red staters move to the Heartland, and all the Blue staters move to the coasts (except Florida; leave it to the 'gators) and split the government in twain.
The Reds will have a theo-fascist country and the Blues democracy.
Upside: The Blues will have the haters surrounded.
I'm working on the details.
-30-
Yesterday's upstate New York special election to replace Hillary R.C. in the Senate is too close to call, while the Minnesota standoff continues, with the Repub-idate ready to wage unending war to keep Al F. out of the Senate. Voters in two states split half and half, Republican and Democratic.
It's time to make all the Red staters move to the Heartland, and all the Blue staters move to the coasts (except Florida; leave it to the 'gators) and split the government in twain.
The Reds will have a theo-fascist country and the Blues democracy.
Upside: The Blues will have the haters surrounded.
I'm working on the details.
-30-
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