FED UP

After many years of being concerned over the anticipated, then the actual outcome of a periodic general election, this writer has finally reached a conclusion. Having grown irrevocably sick and tired of the half-truths and distortions belched forth by the candidates, we find the whole affair no more sincere than those ghastly TV commercial messages the advertising gentry endeavors to make us swallow.

As a consequence, our personal conclusion can be best stated as follows:

WE DON’T GIVE A _____________________ ANY LONGER

Each reader is invited to fill in the blank space with whatever term he or she may choose, in at least four and not more than eight letters.

GOOD OLD NO. XV

The Fifteenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, as ratified on February 3, 1870, proudly declares that citizens’ voting rights shall not be denied or abridged due to race, color, or previous condition of servitude.

We must now ask how said wording might appear to mean from a 21st century schoolchild’s viewpoint. We can’t help but feel that his or her understanding would be that every American citizen could head straight to the polls on all election days thereafter.

Well, Kids, ‘tain’t so. The teacher will have to mark your answer wrong in this particular case.

Considering the era in which this amendment became law, the obvious implication at the time was that such right would continue to be restricted to members of the unfair sex only, be their skin white, black, red, brown, blue, or green.

Actually, doesn’t it sound a bit preposterous that no necessity whatsoever called for the words male citizens, rather than just citizens? Talk about chauvinism!

So how did our latter 19th century ladies react in combating this effrontery? Were there protest marches down New York’s Fifth Avenue, fiery speeches from soapboxes across the land, or armies of female pickets outside the White House? As far as we can determine, no such endeavors were undertaken. Having been formally deprived of such right by every state since 1807, our womenfolk knew their place, and continued to content themselves at the spinning wheel and in the kitchen, while tending to a nursery filled with youngsters. Otherwise, they may have been subject to victimization by tar and feathers, or maybe even a horsewhip.

It took another 50 (count ‘em) 50 years before voting privileges were extended to the distaff side, and only after a lengthy and tedious bout with all those stuffy hidebound men running the show, as had been the practice for countless millennia.

Our sole remaining question is why did it take so much blooming time for a leading world nationality, not to mention the entire human race, to resolve what we view today as an utterly logical issue?

MENTAL POISONING (BEFORE YOUR VERY EYES)

In 1949, a renowned author named George Orwell wrote a novel entitled 1984, which depicted living conditions as they might become by that time. The book envisioned a wholly totalitarian world, with only three gigantic countries remaining in existence, each having derived from territorial conglomeration. They all ruled their citizenry in a terrifying manner, by the simple means of sheer news fabrication. The individual would receive a daily dose of disinformation about wars being fought, subversive activities attempted, and the utter necessity to maintain unceasing patriotic sentiment and loyalty by promptly reporting any suspected offenders to the central authorities. The nation known as Oceania, whose capital lay in London, had identified an anarchist named Emmanuel Goldstein, allegedly leading forces dedicated to undermining the so-called people’s government and everything it stood for. As matters turned out, however, no such person actually lived, having been fabricated to foster universal hatred, a feature most essential to the “inner party’s” undisputed control over the masses.

Although our own year 1984 came and went without the eventuality so grimly described by Mr. Orwell, we can’t help but wonder if our modern society leadership hasn’t been taking a few pages out of his work and putting them to comparable use, albeit not to such extremes. We’d like to cite a few reasons why we harbor suspicion in this regard.

For openers, one of comedian Bob Newhart’s earliest monologue sketches dealt with the presumed need to have created a public figure image for Abraham Lincoln, causing the man to appear somewhat more exciting than his true characteristics would convey. Although only a retroactive spoof, it clearly illustrated the principle of artificially fabricating a persona. The piece accurately mirrored practices known to be carried out today by TV wizards, in order to glorify candidates for office or intended prominence elsewhere.

Additionally, our private DVD collection happens to include certain films, among which are the following, based on situations of a factual or too close for comfort nature:
· Power, wherein a national election becomes a rivalry between image builders representing their respective candidates, with little or no concern over the issues each may be guided by;
· Wag the Dog, with the presidential election prospects getting completely overturned during the last eleven campaign days, by virtue of staging a bogus war scare and a fictitious martyred military hero;
· The Pentagon Papers, a biographical presentation of Daniel Ellsberg’s struggle to make the true Vietnam war results clearly understood, and the government’s two-fisted effort to discredit him;
· Network, a plot Larry King and others in the TV business consider to be pure realism put on film, explaining how the general public can be influenced and motivated solely through overblown or virtually concocted news coverage;
· Finally, JFK, where Oliver Stone endeavors to portray a believable cover-up of the actual circumstances surrounding the Kennedy assassination, and its attempt to identify a sole red-tinged young man as the culprit.

The above instances have dealt with two opposite poles, evidencing concentration either on hatred or heroic imagery, sometimes throwing both together. To our mind, each ranks as insidious as the other. Misguiding the multitude definitely falls under bearing false witness, according to the tablets God delivered to Moses. The obvious question has to be whether the U.S. government or the television industry deserves the greater guilt. In our opinion, it’s both, in the form of an ill-conceived, unofficial joint venture.

What we’re busting our tails to drive home in this piece is the extent to which utter phoniness has long been known to prevail at the highest political and show business levels, while the majority goes on blithely accepting the engineered news diet with little reservation.

It’s a foregone conclusion that our government requires a sense of national paranoia at all times, with the best means being through perpetual focus on at least one leading villain in the public eye, á la Orwell’s Emmanuel Goldstein. Interestingly, a fellow can be transformed from the world’s biggest schmuck into a nice guy almost overnight, whereas in some cases the exact reverse will occur. A few prominent examples from recent decades are shown below.

From mean s.o.b. to reasonably sound citizen, there have been:
· Yasser Arafat;
· Muammar Gadaffi;
· Manuel Ortega.

On the other hand, from half-way decent chap to downright louse, we offer:
· Fidel Castro;
· Manuel Noriega;
· Sadam Hussein.

The most notable feature is that elevating yesterday’s nastiest guy in the universe to today’s top semi-god must invariably be followed by immediate demotion of some new person to prime time satanic status.

Currently, however, we just may have established the all-time greatest villain in modern history, namely the very elusive Osama bin Laden, who’s been ducking our belligerent legions for such a long while that we can’t avoid wondering if such a bloke really does exist as such, or is represented only by photos of some humble middle eastern shepherd. Nevertheless, the sentiment mounted against him has become so overwhelming that our organized propaganda machine now seems to have put all its eggs in one basket.

Be that as it may, until the day arrives when this demonic personage is either slain or captured, we remain somewhat less than convinced about him and his so-called family connections not having been at least partially fabricated. Still, we’ll be more than pleased to acknowledge his evil authenticity, once duly proven.

A NEW EDUCATIONAL SYSTEM BOMBSHELL

As evidenced by an earlier blog article, we aren’t exactly enthralled with the performance qualities exhibited by our collective professorial gentry. It’s now sad to report that we’ve recently discovered yet another specific failing in the educational process.

Having become informally affiliated with the retail guitar trade, we’ve made several new acquaintances who play as amateurs or professionals, some of whom hold music major degrees. What has struck us in the solar plexus more than once lately is the general lack of familiarity displayed regarding mid-20th century jazz greats and their contribution to modern note-producing history.

Without exception, these esteemed diploma-wavers are able to converse somewhat intelligently about Beethoven, Schubert, Mozart, Verdi, Debussy, and those other classical cats, having had such names crammed down their throats during classroom days. However, we find ourselves constantly appalled when, upon mentioning Goodman, Ellington, Basie, Dorsey, Miller, and even Brubeck, a blank stare results, followed by a Benny Who, Duke Who, or similar response.

Harking back to our own music class school days, we recall being thoroughly familiarized with outpourings of the “old master” fraternity by the dozen. Contrarily, of course, no teacher seated at the piano or up front alongside the record-player dared admit that “swing bands” were then reigning supreme, with their latest hits being mentally hummed by students galore. Such subject was a strict discussionary no-no.

We long ago wrote off that crew of eunuchal fuddy-duddies as not having been in tune with the times. What else could be expected in such a backward-looking era? Jumping to the present, though, we can’t help but detect a still apparent disdain for the musicianship which steadily evolved from its birth around the 1890s, through the 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, and onward, having become an established way of life. About the only statement we can utter to those unenlightened ex-students of music is that overworked cliché, “Your education has been sadly neglected”, with all sincerity.

At least we’ve not yet reached the ultimate stage when singers may be the conversational topic, and some youthful wizard pipes up with “Frank Who?”

CONGRATULATIONS TO WASHINGTON

Tanning salons, which tend to proliferate around our country these days, are emporia where relatively pale-skinned folk may be turned into well-bronzed bathing beauties after a few lamp or laser treatments. In some respects, this may be viewed as an extravagance, since the same effect can be achieved less expensively by a day at the beach or an outdoor pool.

Accordingly, that stalwart band of brothers in our two congressional houses has deemed this particular service to approach excessive yuppieness, deciding to levy a 10% federal excise tax on charges for its performance. Senators Laurel, Abbott, Moe, and Larry, along with Representatives Hardy, Costello, Curly, and Keaton have found a way to tack such provision onto that grand and glorious health care reform bill they’ve been debating ad nauseam over for what seems like ages.

There obviously has to be some logic to this step, because we know that United States Senators and Congress(wo)men possess nothing short of our nation’s soundest minds. Nevertheless, we can’t help but wonder what relevance artificial body tanning has to public health care improvement.

Anyway, quite a few small business establishments here and about now stand to suffer a touch of reduced revenue from the more dedicated do-it-yourselfers, not to mention an additional record-keeping and form out-filling burden. Meanwhile, our Texas, Oklahoma, and elsewhere oil barons will continue enjoying overly abundant annual tax deductions in the form of a percentage depletion allowances, accompanied by others among the wealthier class
who benefit from countless further gimmicks and loopholes reserved for those with more control than the tanning artists over our esteemed legislators.

How can we do anything but take off our hats and bow deeply in the direction of Washington DC, offering homage to our two highly remarkable congressional groups?

SOME VITALLY NEEDED SOCIALISTIC STEPS

Within the past century, countries throughout the world have adopted numerous and varied public healtWh care programs, ranging from totally government-backed setups to that farcical effort the U.S. Congress recently wasted months shouting across the aisles over, before winding up with still one more non-solution to a pressing dilemma. To put the issue squarely on the table, none of those supposedly beneficent schemes has ever worked effectively anywhere. Meanwhile, the human race’s collective physical condition continues to deteriorate, almost by the hour.

The medical world these days never ceases to be involved in a round robin spiral. Doctors’ clinics and hospitals invest with fervent zeal in the latest technically-advanced and increasingly expensive gadgetry for such fundamental tasks as checking temperature, pulse, blood pressure, and the like, as well as treating major or minor ailments. A “keeping up with the Joneses” atmosphere seems to prevail. Costs therefore continue to rise, causing service fees to steadily go up, leading in turn to even less affordable insurance company rates. We certainly can’t be accused of exaggeration in stating that such trend is never going to stop, unless some essential corrective action gets implemented.

Sound logic dictates a single and simple answer to this ungodly mess. What would be wrong with going the full distance, by offering absolutely free care for every male and female citizen or lawful immigrant in this country? We firmly believe that if the Almighty had His druthers, He’d be likely to opt for this sort of arrangement.

Revolutionary or not, we view the following program as mandatory, and with all deliberate speed:
· Providing for needed medical, psychiatric, and dental services to all qualified at no expense, to include doctor and nursing care, hospitalization, surgery, prescribed drugs, orthopedic limbs, canes, wheel chairs, walkers, oxygen, and whatever else may duly apply;
· The foregoing point notwithstanding, exclusion of coverage for abortions, legal or otherwise (honestly feeling the Almighty would want it this way too), surgery of a strictly cosmetic nature, and dental work for mere beautification purposes;
· Compensating doctors, dentists, nurses, and other licensed health care practitioners on a fitting salary scale, subject to annual increase according to experience and/or number of patients treated;

Obviously, this would call for subsidization of hospitals and pharmaceutical companies at government expense, perhaps in the latter case based on accepted and approved research and development achievements.

And now the bombshell:
· Cancelation of all existing health and malpractice insurance plans, as neither being required any longer.

Additionally, inasmuch as a considerable degree of ill health is brought about by poor personal eating and other habits, we’re convinced that the costs of the foregoing plan ought to be covered to a major extent by heavy, heavier, and heaviest taxes on the following products:
· Tobacco in any form;
· Alcoholic beverages, including beer and ale;
· Soft drinks;
· Candy and chewing gum;
· Meat and other foods clinically defined as being of high calorie, high cholesterol, high glucose, contributive to high blood pressure, or comparably harmful.

Furthermore, greater import tariffs should be strongly considered on coffee and cocoa beans, because of their less-than-healthful properties.

Although we deem the above program fine in principle, might we not expect gross abuses to arise? Of course. Everyone knows that. Wouldn’t those vulturous lobbyists who infest Washington and state capitals have a picnic, endeavoring to push through the perennial legislation set to satisfy special interests only? We have no doubt in the slightest. Government bureaucracy would also be sure to rear its ugly head in frightful proportions. Nevertheless, might the overall resultant improvement in public welfare not be apt to outweigh the slings and arrows? We’re inclined to believe so.

Once and for all then, can’t sensible, compassionate heads prevail after so many decades or longer of bickering, unjust treatment, and sheer failure in all health care system undertakings to date?

Any reader who fails to react at least to some degree at the program we’ve sketched out above should be subject to censorship for mental negligence.

THE ELECTRONIC AGE AND ITS HORRORS

It has become quite clear that the makers of electronic gadgetry have successfully taken a page, yea pages, what the hell, chapters from the book so long maintained by the automotive companies during their lush days, promoting dynamic obsolescence. Every new piece of equipment these silicon chip neo-geniuses foist on the market now seems to result in a clamor to visit the nearest sales spot, so the outmoded model purchased just a couple years ago can be tossed into the retirement bin or given to the kids.

Perhaps we’re more conservative than we constantly claim to be, by never appreciating the need to possess the latest pocket-sized or slightly larger device, guaranteed to perform heretofore unimaginable feats, both faster and with more storage capacity than ever envisioned. If so, we must confess to prefer behaving in an old fuddy-duddy manner, rather than like a wide-eyed yuppie. What’s wrong with being content sticking to an earlier version, as long as it does the job satisfactorily?

THE GUY NEXT DOOR

During the years of Ronald Reagan’s presidential tenure, we never ceased viewing him as a man who’d very likely make an ideal next door neighbor, based upon his consistent demeanor while appearing in public. He always seemed like the sort of chap inclined to drop by on occasion for a friendly beer at the kitchen table, or engage in frequent spirited conversation with a fellow back yard grass cutter. It’s no wonder that he enjoyed such immense universal popularity for such a lengthy time period.

In rather sharp contrast, we developed a much different feeling as regards his immediate White House successor, George Bush Sr. Should he be residing that close by, we envision an approximate weekly pounding on our door to proclaim in vociferous tones “Your dog peed
on my shrubbery!”

A LONG AND WELCOME SARTORIAL STRIDE

Whenever we venture out on various excursions for shopping, social events, or other purposes these days, we find it interesting to note the wearing apparel which adorns roughly 95% of the men observed. Clothing once viewed as fit for only a hobo or a hopeless wino is now the accepted mode. The casual look has become the universally accepted male fashion.

Anyone who watches early era movies on television or DVD will see how strictly conservative masculine garb prevailed in those days. Among our best remembered examples was a scene with approximately twenty men grouped together in the stands viewing a hockey game. Without exception, they wore business suits, neckties, and felt hats, more resembling chorus line members than spectators. To our subsequent century eyes, this seemed nothing short of ridiculous. Nevertheless, that's how we chaps were virtually required to drape ourselves much of the time a half-century or so back.

Contrarily today, about the only situations that force a fellow to clad himself thusly occur when sitting in a stuffy board room or attending church services. Being retired, and otherwise not having not occupied a pew for decades, we wouldn't be overly surprised to learn that some might be showing up at both such locations wearing more relaxed duds by now. However, we hold no particular anxiety to check either matter out.

To help the trend along, several latter-day U.S. Presidents have shed such senseless formality as well, when making public appearances under appropriate conditions.

A close acquaintance once described an incident which took place when he was an early teenager (circa 1939), vacationing with older relatives at a rustic cabin resort in the Pennsylvania hills. He showed us a family photo where every person except his father wore casual outfits. In stark dissimilarity, Pop had on a white shirt and a tie -- at an Appalachian wilderness retreat! Furthermore, he'd shaved, after allowing his five o'clock shadow to build up for several days, according to our narrator.

The reason readily became clear, as our friend went on to explain. There was periodic need for someone to drive into the nearest hamlet to seek supplies or whatever. As head of the household, the old man had the procurement obligation, and had groomed himself with due propriety. During those times, a true gentleman never trod the sidewalk without a single-color suit plus a necktie, and likely a hat on top, even in Hickburg, Pa. Besides that, only bums let their beards grow back then. His return had immediately preceded the picture-taking, with only a few minutes to shed his coat and sombrero.

Speaking very candidly, it's a pleasure not having to put up with such false formality any longer. In turn, dare we suppose the day will come when judges and barristers in England's and its many commonwealth countries' courts of law might stop wearing those silly powdered wigs, faggoty cravats, and outmoded robes?

TACTICAL ADVICE FROM A WOULD-BE FIFTH COLUMNIST CHASER

Quite recently, the apartment complex where we reside sent out invitations for any and all occupants to attend a brief reception at its club house a few days further on. With the announced hour being "by 1:00 PM", our initial thought was to drop in at 11:00 and stay only long enough to meet a 12:30 appointment elsewhere. Shortly afterward though, the realization struck that the correct starting time would be somewhat later than first anticipated, making our presence impossible.

How did reach such conclusion? Purely and simply because we knew the bulletin had been composed by a Latina lady, who had grown up in another country. With no disrespect intended, we could tell that her use of by didn't actually mean before, but rather near, hence around or about one o'clock.

To expand upon this innocent type of linguistic error, we've long held to the certainty that should we ever become engaged in counterespionage activity, an enemy agent posing as a U.S. patriot could eventually be tripped up through noting improper English preposition use. As an unofficial, yet dedicated student of various foreign tongues, we've experienced countless cases where such application can be much different between one language and another, especially when a direct textbook translation pattern is followed. Consequently, a reasonably lengthy interview with a supposed "one of us" would guarantee spy detection results in due course.

Another alleged way to catch an unwanted infiltrator would merely be to sketch a diamond on a piece of paper, then ask him or her to place an X where the shortstop belongs. We scoff at this idea for two sound reasons. Firstly, we've met any number of native-born Americans unable to perform such exercise properly, which might lead to false presumption. Conversely, a well-trained enemy agent could handle the matter with his or her eyes closed.

Everything we've said above is likely old hat to the CIA et al lads and lasses. Nevertheless, we just wanted to flaunt our vicarious capabilities.

WHAT CONSTITUTES A SOCIAL GATHERING?

Years ago, when this writer was in the employ of a leading professional services firm, two annual parties would be hrown for the staff and their wives. The first came during the late spring months in the form of a cocktail party at a prominent local hotel, and the second near Christmas time, complete with drinks and an elaborate buffet dinner. Each occasion usually offered a pleasant evening for all.

In most organizations we've dealt with, the invitation lists for events of this sort include every current employee. However, that was never the policy adhered to by said company. Since its business consisted of serving the blue-chippiest clientele possible, a distinctly stuffy attitude constantly prevailed, with attendance limited to those holding university degrees, perhaps supplemented by professional certification.

What we're saying is that the secretaries, the typists, the office clerks, the reproduction equipment operators, and the messenger boy were never allowed to participate. Granted, they'd be given a small annual affair of their own at a separate spot, mingling solely among themselves.

When we once inquired as to the whys and wherefores of such practice, a company bigwig coolly replied by expressing a fear that some young lady might bring along her husband or boy friend, who could be a common laborer. Perish the thought of some professional type finding himself engaged in conversation with a hod carrier or rubbish collector. The explanation was concluded with "That, in our firm's eyes, does not make a social gathering". A page had clearly been taken from India's caste system.

Happily, while later working with similar firms over the years, we never found this outlandish situation duplicated.

From our anti-Republican viewpoint, a Christmas party or comparable occasion should provide an excellent atmosphere for camaraderie, where file clerks can brush shoulders with vice presidents. Even if some poor slob gets a snoutful and openly calls the big boss a fatassed s.o.b., the whole affair is supposed to be in fun.

We've never managed to forget or forgive such ultra-snobbishness.

WHAT CONSTITUTES A SOCIAL GATHERING?

WHAT CONSTITUTES A SOCIAL GATHERING?

WHAT IS A SOCIAL GATHERING?

HOW DO YOU SPELL HIPPOCRATIC OATH?

If this particular article fails to bring on loud retorts in defense of the sacred medical profession, we can’t possibly imagine what will. The matter we’re about to lay on the table deals with relationships established between physicians and the pharmaceutical companies, regarding what benefits may be forthcoming in return for prescription writing, excessive or otherwise.

A browse of the internet on such subject makes it abundantly clear that the drug manufacturers are known indeed to provide gifts (lacking a more suitable label) to doctors for having pushed their wares, due to age-old overly aggressive marketing habits. Still, we see no concrete statements to the effect that direct kickbacks are being paid.

Nevertheless, supposing we take a look at what can be readily accomplished with our 21st century technology. When picking up a prescription at any pharmacy, the doctor is expressly identified on the label, which means his name and address have also been lodged in a computer file. Reporting sales of products X, Y, or Z back to the drug companies, naming the initiator in each case, can be duck soup.

While living in Thailand for a great many years, we observed that every hospital and medical clinic carried huge quantities of pharmaceutical products. We further found that any direct charges for routine doctor services were either relatively minimal if not nil, with the profit derived from the small pile of prescriptions the patient carried to the stock room to be filled. Since the national mentality in said country is predicated on believing a doctor’s words to be the gospel according to St. Whoever, no person dares not to fork over the funds for the list of drugs dished out. In this case, the revenue comes from direct sales, but requiring a rather massive inventory investment. Accordingly, the drug producers can’t be other than blissfully pleased.

Our stateside system differs, of course, in that medical clinics don’t normally house drug stocks, letting the independent pharmacies carry the inventory burden. Theoretically then, the only profit is earned at the retail level, with the prescribing physician’s task a mere ordering service for no added remuneration. Correspondingly, medication issued from stores within hospital walls and charged to a patient’s account would produce revenue for the institution only.

However, can this always be true in real life practice? Might direct (or at least camouflaged) percentage kickbacks not be due the doctors?

Even if such condition may exist today, and we’re frankly inclined to harbor such suspicions, this wouldn’t necessarily imply that prescriptions are being written with an eye only on resulting rebates. In any such case, the physician would be on the borderline of a Hippocratic Oath violation.

In all due fairness, therefore, we shouldn’t jump to unwarranted conclusions. Still, it is common knowledge that doctors are extensively trained to combat illness with drugs, drugs, and more drugs. They spent long years in medical school having this point driven home. Even though many offer useful lip service to careful dieting, tobacco use restriction, ample exercise, and other natural cure methods, the underlying indoctrination back at dear old Siwash can’t be easily forgotten.

Fundamentally speaking, we feel that the prime fault has to lie with the pharmaceutical companies, whose sales promotion methods have irretrievably branded them as having resided in Satan’s bailiwick for as far back as any of us can remember. Besides, they have no Hippocratic Oath to hold them in check.

A SOMEWHAT IMPASSIONED PLEA FOR MORE HOLLYWOOD REALISM

This piece focuses on the gentry who churn out movies in assembly line fashion, most pointedly the screenwriters. We hold nothing short of utter contempt for their ceaseless history revising, fact distortion, and classic literature corruption. The industry obviously has no qualms about insulting our alleged intelligence through truth manipulation for entertainment’s sake. It seems the only text they won’t twist around is that which comes from the Bible, perhaps due to inherent fear of recriminations from the Almighty.

Moreover, thanks to needed liberalization of those past days’ ridiculous censorship measures, our more modern film creators now go too far overboard, seldom failing to feature superfluous “in the sack” scenes, before blowing massive structures to bits as a finale. At least the earlier era bluenose-controlled productions couldn’t be overladen with erotic and violent sensationalism. However, we digress, since our current quest is for greater authenticity, not moderation.

Supplementing our above-stated misgivings, we’d like to add a few relatively minor pet peeves, where war and other military life films are concerned. We have no appreciation for lack of realism when portraying either battle scenes or barrack-room dialogue, and thus tend to wince at any of the aspects discussed below.

Military Rank Insignia
Anyone who ever served in direct confrontation combat knows that, beforehand, non-coms will have torn off their stripes, and officers discarded their bars, oak leaves, eagles, or stars. In addition, the facsimiles painted on their helmets get thoroughly coated with mud. To the enemy, such exposed designations signify leadership capacity, thus making the bearers more logical targets for snipers or other close range opponents.

Nevertheless, even in sterling war epics like The Longest Day and The Band of Brothers, among many lesser flicks we’ve watched over the years, no soldier ever appears without his rank prominently displayed for all to see and aim at. From our viewpoint, this lacks essential realism.

Shoulder Patches
The above point applies equally here, and never once have we noted the absence of military unit identification on any actor-soldier’s duds. Standard military procedure calls for such patches to be ripped off and thrown away before reaching the front, in the interest of security. Allowing the enemy to recognize what outfit they are facing has always been strictly taboo, with their forces’ having been thoroughly indoctrinated in noting and reporting any such observations.

Artillery and Mortar Fire
All too often, we witness troops moving forward, while shells keep landing and exploding no more than a few feet away from many of them, yet they carry on, miraculously untouched. The naïve film viewer is to suppose that only direct body hits will be damaging. Even the Rambo movies follow this erroneous pattern. Again, as many of us have learned from bitter experience, a strike that close will send deadly shrapnel flying in every direction.

Soldier, Sailor, Marine, and Air Force Vocabulary
We’re all aware that military personnel are prone to employ salty language as a matter of routine, and our latter-day films do a pretty adequate job in this regard. Although we have no objection to such practice, we have long deplored the unceasing use of two especially inaccurate expressions, both “clean” by nature, and normally applicable to off-duty or between-skirmish scenes.

The first overworked word in army films is sarge, used when addressing a sergeant. Throughout this fellow’s entire military service career, that abbreviation was not heard on a single occasion. The custom has always been to call said person by the full term and/or his name.

Furthermore, in countless army or navy-based movies, we’ve listened to only one word ever applied when reference is made to members of the fair sex. Quite frankly, we’re sick and tired of their being called dames, without exception. Even that classic song from South Pacific, which complained of their absence, exploited such expression to the hilt.

Having participated in an endless number of barracks bull sessions, conversations with college fraternity associates, various stag affairs, poker parties, and the like, this writer has yet to hear the ladies so labeled, either individually or collectively. Although there are words applicable by the dozen, ranging from semi-complimentary to degrading to anatomically vulgar, never has a male colleague of this writer been known to designate them as dames.

MUD

As a person who has been retired from the working rat race for a number of years, this writer finds ample time to view a private DVD collection and browse the internet at will. Although relaxing in some ways, such practice can also bring on discouragement, depending upon what happens to be watched.

Just a day or two ago, we chose to replay a 1972 film entitled The Candidate, with Robert Redford in the lead role as a chap who rose from the ashes to win a U.S. Senate seat from California, against a typically stodgy Republican old-liner. Not unexpectedly, this movie struck a decided parallel tone with the 2008 presidential race, wherein a man overcame an inherent two-strike handicap to eventually succeed after a most arduous campaign.

One major difference between real life and tinseltown is that Barack Obama has proven to be a more composed and outwardly self-assured candidate than the character portrayed by actor Redford. Nevertheless, we found the true sincerity of both the fictional and living parties virtually identical. In turn, each one faced the usual small-minded Republican opposition, promoting its customary “make the rich richer and to hell with the little guy” practices, along with the “God bless the special interest groups” motif.

Furthermore, we recently called up the 2008 election night rally in Chicago on the internet, to listen again to Obama’s acceptance address. We can confidently say that it rates with the best public speeches ever heard, not only from the standpoint of the principles advocated, but the new president’s unswerving poise as well. It is no wonder the massive crowd felt tremendously inspired.

Our estimation is that the time elapsed between Mr. Obama’s closing words and the start of rolling the ball toward discrediting him at every turn thereafter to have been no more than three minutes. In fact, we can be sure that contingent plans for such dedicated undermining of his cause had already been conceived even before the vote-counting was over.

For as long as we can personally remember, and that goes back to Roosevelt in 1932, Republican tactics have been predicated strictly upon negativity. The philosophy of “If you can’t beat ‘em, ridicule ‘em ad nauseam” hasn’t abated one bit throughout every national and lower level election ever since. The same fabricated and grime-laden accusations were hurled at John Kennedy, Bill Clinton, and plenty of others. Today, the devoted mudslingers have an even more readily available listening audience, in that the current president doesn’t belong to the “superior” white race.

It is always easier, not to mention desirable, to believe the dirt cast upon a person or collective group rather than what true good he, she, or they are striving for, and this has forever been the foundation for Republican back room tactical maneuvering.

Having offered personal support and encouragement to the Obama efforts throughout 2008, we now receive the administration’s policy comments via email every week. The most notable feature is the outright cleanliness of each such message, coupled with sound logic and fair play, consistent with the man’s campaign issues.

On the other hand, we strenuously object to the disgustingly foul Republican mudslinging which has been evident for so long, as an unfitting substitute for constructive thinking.

A NEWLY-DISCOVERED WAY TO "BEAT THE SYSTEM"

As a recently reformed foodaholic, this writer has been blessed with a hitherto unappreciated personal satisfaction source. A 180-degree switch from cholesterol-laden meats, ultra-high calorie sweets, and other fattening delicacies in huge consumptive quantities over to fish, fresh fruits and vegetables, whole grain cereals, and the like has proven to be a major event for a guy who previously spent many decades stuffing whatever he damn pleased down his gullet. The results to date have been noticeably beneficial, leading to a strong desire to remain atop the proverbial wagon at all costs.

Undoubtedly, however, the biggest satisfaction comes from dining in restaurants which feature those all-you-can-cram-down buffet tables. It has literally become fun to stroll about and scoop up such healthful offerings as sweet potatoes, corn on the cob, lima beans, and similar healthful commodities, while nonchalantly observing women who might make excellent defensive tackles for the Indianapolis Colts, and men who look as though they could be seven months pregnant digging into the fat-ringed roast beef and deep fried potatoes, followed by double portions of gooey dessert.

It’s a glorious feeling indeed to leave the eatery with the sincere knowledge of having beaten the system once more.

NO SUBSTITUTIONS, PLEASE

According to the internet, some feeble-minded film industry moguls recently did a film remake of Gone with the Wind, set in Australia, heaven forbid. In this writer’s opinion, that is virtually tantamount to rewriting the Bible as though the Garden of Eden were a small Pacific island and Jesus had delivered the Sermon on the Mount in New York’s Central Park.

As we view such matters, GWTW isn’t the only film upon which the “never again” label should be permanently affixed. Taking it from there, we intend to present below our private selection of ultraclassical movies, wherein certain individual or collective performances can never possibly be equalled, no matter how hard the directors and actors may try.

Unhappily, several of our chosen flicks have already been subject to attempted duplication, in one form or another. The listless results will also be covered below, as appropriate.

Without further ado then, we consider the following movies as being far too sacred to either be or have been redone, along with brief reasons why, presented in alphabetical sequence.

1. Butch Cassady and the Sundance Kid (1969)
Without the joint performances by Newman and Redford and their ultra-snappy dialogue, this production would have been no more than just another western. A prequel appeared a few years afterward, portraying the two legendary outlaws in their more youthful days, but amounted to mighty little.
2. Casablanca (1942)
Imagine this one without Bogie and Bergman! Had anyone else been cast in those leading roles, today we’d be asking “Casa where?” whenever it might be mentioned. Claude Rains did an unmatchable job as well.
3. The Godfather (1972)
The team of Brando, Pacino, Caan, and Duvall proved itself so memorable, that only the world’s biggest dunderheads would even think of a potential remake. Had it not been for that crew, the end result would have been a dry update of Little Caesar.
4. The Old Man and the Sea (1958)
Here is a very simple story, with Spencer Tracy turning out the best all-by-oneself acting we’ve ever witnessed. We didn’t see the 1990 rehash with Anthony Quinn playing the lead, and most assuredly never want to.
5. On Golden Pond (1981)
Despite all his previous successes, Henry Fonda was never better than in the old codgerish role which brought his sole Oscar award. Christopher Plummer’s subsequent rendition for television some years later didn’t even come close.
6. Psycho (1960)
As the disturbed and unbalanced killer, Anthony Perkins was nothing short of brilliant, in perhaps the most frightening top-of-the-line movie ever filmed. Describing that 1998 remake as utterly insipid is being polite and considerate.
7. Finally, we have an unbreakable tie, since the two lead parts dealt with a blind person making use of his and her remaining faculties to the fullest extent. The films we’re honoring are:
Scent of a Woman (1992)
Wait Until Dark (1967)
In our book, Al Pacino and Audrey Hepburn rank with the greatest the industry has produced. Their respective performances in the aforementioned flicks aren’t easy to forget.

We’ll be more than pleased, as always, to hear any reader arguments.

PERHAPS WE'RE JUST TOO OLD-FASHIONED

Despite these super-duper days when many of us are inspired to utter such statements as “Ain’t technology great?”, this writer retains his constitutional right to abhor one particular aspect. To put it more strongly, one thing we’ve learned to hate immensely since returning to U.S. shores following an extended offshore stay is placing a phone call, only to get some (expletive deleted) machine recording instead of an on-the-spot person.

Altogether too often, none of the button pushing options given out by the golden-voiced chick at yonder end seem to fit our particular needs. Having almost reached the exasperation point of no return by this time, we’ve become sorely tempted in future cases to tell the machine to perform an impossible act on itself and slam the phone down.

REVISION TO OUR MOST RECENT BLOG TOPIC

In regard to the piece entitled The Saga of Naïve Morton and Misguided Robert, we must confess to having made a slight error which definitely requires correction, and that is what will be attended to herein.

Our corruptive rephrasing of Artimedorus’ written warning to Julius Caesar includes a line which reads as follows:
Latinos love you not;

Considering the era in which this writer was a growing lad, the major influx of Latinos into this supposedly unblemished country still lay a few decades off, meaning that said ethnic group needed no defamation cast upon it for some time to come. However, upon harking back to the indoctrination process administered in our household during those years, it would be fitting to change the above-cited line to read:
Southerners love you not;

Yes, we were also taught that our neighbors down Dixie way held us Yankees in contempt, allegedly due to sour grapes dating back to the outcome of the 1861-1865 fracas. Anyway, that was the party line.

Having recently taken up residence below the Mason-Dixon line, we realize beyond any doubt that such categorization was just as big a crock as the rest of the slurs quoted in our Shakespearean alteration.

THE SAGA OF NAIVE MORTON AND MISGUIDED ROBERT

We begin this piece with a true episode in the life of Morton, a personal acquaintance from long ago, whose last name will be withheld, except to mention its being Hebrew by nature.

Mort was a Jewish lad who grew up in a semi-remote Nebraska location, where his faith had a very sparse membership at the time, which may not have changed since. He once explained how his family needed to travel a great many miles to and from the nearest temple for religious ceremony attendance.

Upon graduation from the University of Nebraska law school in the early 1950s, Mort underwent various interviews with prospective employers. Having expressed a desire to work in an eastward city, he accepted a position offered by the Cleveland, Ohio office of a major professional services firm.

After taking up his new job, Mort, already married and with an expectant wife, was anxious to settle down in a permanent home. He promptly contacted a real estate agent on Cleveland’s multi-national east side, and soon found a house which he and his missus liked very much. Accordingly, he filed a formal offer and plunked down the requisite deposit.

Having heard nothing from the agent for several days, Mort phoned him to check on the status of his intended deal.

The answer came in a somewhat stumbling tone, well punctuated by umms, ahs, and ers where needed.

“You ….. er ….. won’t be able to buy that house, Morton.”

“Oh!” Our hero quickly chimed back, “Don’t worry. I’m ready to come up a little.”

“Well ….. umm ….. ahh ….. that is, the owner refuses to sell to you.”

“Why?” inquired the young Jewish boy recently out of Nebraska.

“It’s ….. er ….. because of your religion.”

Poor Mort’s immediate reaction was to ask “What does that have to do with it?”

In pretty short order then, Morton learned that Cleveland, Ohio was not Nebraska, insofar as intolerance went.

Nevertheless, this part of our tale has a happy ending, since Mort did eventually acquire a nice house for his budding family.

We’ve long dwelled on that baptism of fire experienced by Brother Morton. One unfortunate aspect is that it recalls the general spirit of this writer’s own Cleveland, Ohio upbringing, in the most bigoted of household surroundings. The best means we can find for summing up such situation is to relate it to Shakespeare’s classic drama Julius Caesar, Act II, Scene III.

Being fully cognizant of the plot to assassinate Caesar on that fateful morning, the minor character Artimedorus had prepared a written message to hand to the imminent victim as he passed by, which amounted to a dire warning about the conspiratorial band.

We’ve thus chosen below to alter the Bard’s words slightly, in conformity with the lessons given regularly and frequently to this growing lad.

Robert, beware of Jews,
Take heed of Catholics,
Come not near Negroes,
Have an eye to American Indians,
Trust not Italians,
Mark well Eastern Europeans;
Latinos love you not;
Thou hast wronged Orientals.

Although a fearless Caesar arbitrarily brushed Artimedorus aside, it took this fellow a few years to outgrow the hatreds ingrained in him as a boy. For that and other reasons, it’s been nice to have escaped from Cleveland.

We can’t resist adding that, despite such atrocious childhood indoctrination, this writer’s closest friends during his (ugh! ptui!) U.S. Army days were Tom Donegan, Milton Feldman, and Phil Daniele.

A SHARP REBUTTAL FROM AN OFFENDED M.D.

The most recent contribution to our Let It All Hang Out blog gave the medical profession a hefty punch in the solar plexus, by openly criticizing its proclivity for prescribing drugs as a prime cure-all, as opposed to insistence on patients’ sensible eating practices. However, since our reading audience includes no doctors, we deem it only fair to offer a reply from a mythical physician, based on the reaction that would likely result.

Accordingly, here is what we might expect in retaliation from an irate medical practitioner:

“Do you believe for an instant that we doctors are unaware of the benefits forthcoming
from a carefully controlled diet? Most of us have forgotten more than you presently
know about this matter. Nevertheless, how much could we ever accomplish by focusing
principally on choice of foods as the best approach for a patient? Can you honestly
expect the great majority of them to listen? Forget it. The unfortunate fact is that we’re
practically forced into writing hefty prescriptions, just to offset the damage so many
people have brought on themselves by eating improperly, and otherwise not taking good
care of their bodies.

“We continually tell people to quit smoking, but how many ever really do? Way too many
of them will go on puffing and wheezing until Joe Camel knocks them cold some day
not too far down the line. Furthermore, how are we expected to treat those who
obediently nod their heads in response to our semi-stern advice about reducing their
calorie, sugar, cholesterol, and other harmful intakes, then leave our offices and head
straight to the nearest McDonald’s for a burger and fries lunch?

“Quit blaming us for trying to do our best to salvage what we can out of an ailing,
mistreated human anatomy. Give us due credit for a noble effort.”

Thank you, Doctor. We stand duly admonished.

WORDS OF WISDOM GLEANED FROM BROWSING THE INTERNET

Upon selecting a title for this particular piece, we were promptly reminded of Wordsworth’s classic Lines Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey, written in 1798. However, we must assure the reader that what we’re about to expound upon falls far short, from the lyrical beauty standpoint, in comparison to the master’s chosen metric verse. As a matter of fact, the central theme which concerns us here is a rather unsavory one, namely bowel cleansing, hence improved health, through proper and careful dietary habits. Ugh!

We also admit to thoughts having arisen concerning musical virtuoso Arthur Sullivan, whose well-known The Lost Chord describes how he had allegedly created a singular perfect sound one afternoon, while browsing at an organ. We raise this point because we recently experienced a vaguely similar feeling, again nowhere near the blissful sensation described in the famous song, but rather by coming across a rare touch of sheer wisdom, thanks to certain internet content.

What the foregoing paragraphs add up to is that, while happening to read about the somewhat uninspiring subject cited above, we noted how the article included a little-known quotation by Thomas Edison back in his day. Although not a qualified physician, this gentleman nevertheless did utter a medical-related statement which we feel makes a tremendous amount of sense. Unfortunately, what the esteemed genius of the scientific world had to say on the matter has never sunk in, despite his sage prediction.

Very simply, Edison’s prognosticative utterance was:
“The doctor of the future will give no medicine, but will interest his patient in the care of
the (human) frame, in diet and in the cause and prevention of disease.”

How about that, Folks? As far as we’re concerned, the man was right as rain in principle, yet a full 180 degrees off base from the accuracy angle.

To summarize our case as succinctly as possible, we merely ask the question “How many doctors have you ever consulted, receiving prime advice about careful dieting? Sure, the boys and girls of the medical world might bring the matter up, but almost always as a secondary issue. Once they’ve diagnosed your ailment, the first method of attack lies in loading you up with drugs by the veritable carload, while ignoring not only the superior benefits accruable from better eating, but the potentially harmful side effects which those pharmaceutical concoctions are apt to bring about.

Obviously, the Pfizers, Squibbs, Bayers, and Mercks of this world love those solid medical practitioners, who are so inclined and adept at helping peddle their questionable value wares.

From our personal end, though, we fail to hold anywhere near the same respect.

WHO'S ON FIRST?

We find ourselves a bit perplexed these days as to which professional group is the bigger gouger when it comes to billing for services. We’re unable to determine whether lawyers or doctors stand in first place. It seems to be a mighty close race.

OUR OWN MISTER ED

Ed was a classmate throughout our high school days. We never had a chance to get to know him too well, since he lived in the far yonder part of town. According to memory, he tended to keep to himself, not having much to say, even in response to the teachers up front.

There are, however, some unique features about this quiet and reserved lad. The first was his family setting. Reliable sources informed us that his father owned a good-sized piece of farm land, and in his spare time had sired seventeen children, mostly female, all occupying the same domicile. Ed had arrived second last among the brood.

The old man would haul the undergraduate portion of his flock to school in his truck each morning, then pick them up after classes had ended. As we understand it, he’d actually call the roll every afternoon, as an army platoon sergeant might, making sure the crew was complete.

Farming didn’t generate a whole lot of revenue in those days, and having to feed, clothe, and otherwise support a congregation that huge put wide gaps in the household budget. This was quite evident in certain cases. Every few weeks or so, Ed and his younger brother (Nos. 16 and 17 in respective sequence) would both show up at school with freshly cropped hair, and their father’s sugar bowl utilization couldn’t go unnoticed. Typically, only the outer edges would have been trimmed off, leaving the covered area untouched, and hence resembling an overgrown lawn.

During our final year, the coming graduation amenities required each senior to visit a designated photo studio for a class annual mug shot. This obviously called for a conventional suit to pose in, which was a luxury Ed’s parents couldn’t afford. He likely arranged to borrow the needed woolens from somewhere, since his youthful face did appear along with those of his class confederates.

In the post-graduation years, our paths crossed but once for a few brief casual words, no more. We have learned, though, how in due course our once sugar bowl-coiffed, tweedless Ed and his siblings inherited the farm land their father had long tilled, converting the area into a housing development.

For the past several decades, therefore, our Mr. Ed has enjoyed millionaire status, and we applaud his good fortune, especially in view of such a humble beginning. While residing in several foreign countries and meeting natives from numerous others, we’ve seen or learned about very few where similar opportunities are available to a kid growing up on the wrong side of the tracks.

THE NEED FOR A FITTING SLOGAN

Slogans have long been put to use as inspirational battle cries. A look at our past history brings several prominent ones to mind. Prime examples include “Remember the Maine!”, “Remember the Alamo!”, “54-40 or Fight!”, “Remember Pearl Harbor!”, “Sink the Bismarck!”, “I shall return!”, “We Shall Overcome!”, and others adopted for various organized endeavors.

It stands to reason, then, that our esteemed Republican Party is deeply lacking a proper and meaningful theme. In light of its record over the past century – at least from the end of Teddy Roosevelt’s administration forward – we feel they should choose a fighting slogan which matches the political doctrines consistently extolled year after year. Accordingly, what could be more appropriate than “Repeal that stupid Magna Charta!”?

THE BADDEST DAY

Our literary gentry have long forgiven the Bard of Avon for his classic grammatical blunder when describing the knife wound inflicted by Brutus on his friend Julius Caesar as the “most unkindest cut of all”. Actually, the gentleman had no choice but to preserve a ten-syllable line, in what the scholars label iambic pentameter. Although certainly not claiming to measure up to Willie Shakespeare, we’ve nevertheless decided to take comparable license in the above title. Our theme in this instance is speculation on what singular event throughout the just-closed 20th century stands as the most disruptive to mankind’s ongoing welfare -- applying our chosen vernacular to call it the “baddest”.

Quite a few disastrous occurrences immediately come to mind, due to either human action and/or failure to exercise adequate preventive measures. Each item on our selected list is cited and analyzed below, in determining which we consider as having wrought the most devastating long range effect.

1. The sinking of the Titanic? Not really since, despite the tragedy, this served
as a useful wakeup call against complacent living.
2. The 1929 stock market crash? A depressing blow indeed, but lacking permanent ill effect.
3. The Hindenburg explosion? A latter-day equivalent to the Titanic, but it taught us to abandon the dirigible as a key international transport means.
4. Pearl Harbor? A highly upsetting business, but such happening at least convinced America never again to let down its guard.
5. The bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki? This comes mighty close to rating as the very worst, because of a universal trepidation over nuclear energy use, which hasn’t abated one bit ever since.
6. The 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon? This event made Pearl Harbor look like a mild disturbance by comparison, but has provided yet another valuable lesson in security requirements.

Our studied answer has to be “none of the above”. Except for the last two, the disruptive effect doesn’t shape up as being very long lasting.

Over and above them all, we’ve picked the founding of the Israeli state in 1948. The reason is that such act amounted to pouring gasoline on a fire which has been raging for millennia. The Arab-Zionist controversy, perpetuated through outright mutual hatred, hasn’t slackened off one iota since, and appears unlikely ever to.

Our old adversary Adolf Hitler and his Nazi cronies were indirectly responsible for such unfortunate move. Once the full horror of the Holocaust had become known to the entire world, the international powers had no alternative but to bend over backwards in uttering a profound apology to the Jews. The most fitting gesture at the time could be nothing short of recreating Israel as a nation, even though it meant telling the on-site inhabitant Palestinians to get lost. The Arab universe couldn’t possibly have been administered a more insulting blow.

The most damaging upshot has been Uncle Sam’s ill-fated policy of unceasingly sticking his proboscis into Middle East affairs, always taking Israel’s side, thus making new enemies by the score every day. This situation not only provided the venom to stage the September 11, 2001 raids, but earlier brought on the sabotaged Pan Am plane crash over Lockerby, in obvious retaliation to Ronald Reagan’s mad bomber air strikes on Libya.

Every U.S. President from Harry Truman onward has held an abject fear of offending Israel, to make sure the American Jewish vote doesn’t get sacrificed come next election day. The established doctrine finds our government simply winking at the undiminished inhuman treatment accorded that country’s neighboring Palestinians.

In closing, the message we’re trying to convey here decidedly does not constitute anti-Semitism on our part. We can firmly state that opposition to the United States’ fondling of Israel has no bearing on our feelings toward Judaism. The country is at fault, not the religion.

EDUCATION FAILURE REVISITED

This piece complements the one recently published under the title Our American Classrooms -- Institutions of Learning or Localized Dictatorships? We have a few more comments to make on the subject of a misdirected educational system.

People here and there seem forever to talk about certain schools as being great, leading, outstanding, model, tops, or whatever. In contrast, therefore, those not so glorified automatically become classified as mediocre or worse.

At this point, we'll jump in with our private opinion that there is no such thing as a poor school. Instead we have poor students, due mainly to countless legions of "yessir, nosir, no excusesir" teachers who conform to the system's rigid rules, focusing on disciplinary control, adherence to going by the proverbial book straight down the line, and results measurement exclusively by exam grades.

It's true that a competent teacher will periodically be blessed with a brightly shining pupil, whose classroom capabilities remain in the mentor's memory throughout his or her career. However, this is far from the issue. We needn't be concerned with the occasional brilliant learner and self-applier. The problem revolves around the hoi polloi -- those never properly oriented as to what schooling should really be all about. Meanwhile, as Charles Sullivan laid out so effectively in his essay of previous blog article reference, the system has long been churning out excessively-disciplined automatons, not creative-minded citizens, by the millions.

For further emphasis, we wish to add that we consider strict rule adherence doctrines to be highly non-beneficial. They mold education into a fear-bound process, and accomplish little from the standpoints of individual thinking and free expression.

Nevertheless, we can't overlook the necessity of maintaining schoolroom order, which will require teachers to finally shed their hitherto lord and master rules to become understanding leaders and guidance counselors instead. Obviously, in light of the already hidebound traditions which prevail, this won't exactly be an overnight development. In fact, we're inclined to fear it may never happen.

A SEASONED VETERAN'S VIEW OF THE ECONOMY

Our present era news columnists, television announcers, and other media pundits everywhere are compelled to earn their livings, which means they must continually dream up copy to write or events to comment on, even if it adds up to tedious repetition. Moreover, with their ranks having become so abnormally plentiful, we literally get bombed all day long and day after day with the latest hot poop, altogether too often in regard to how sick our current economic picture happens to be. Since doom and gloom tends to attract headline readers and capture the attention of listening ears, that has become an overly popular theme.

For the benefit of those too young to remember our so-labeled Great Depression of 1929-1937, we will now offer some reassurance by bluntly saying "Look, Folks, these problems today ain't nothin' in comparison".

No, they really ain't, and that's for dang sure. Back in 1933, following a full dozen years of Republican administration bunglings, which included allowing organized crime to flourish due to that imbecilic prohibition law, the economy had sunk to an unprecedented low. Regardless of what you read and hear these days, such condition has not been repeated by a long shot.

Presently however, we can thank the blessed GOP for having done their level best to try making it happen all over again. After Bill Clinton had managed to return the country to at least an annual budget surplus position, a pair of clowns named Bush and Cheney blew the ball game by spending the whole bundle and more engaging in fisticuffs with Sadam Hussein and the Taliban, while attempting to track down the elusive Osama bin Laden. In the meantime, our smirking, foreclosure-motivated finance industry went wild offering fictitious credit swindles for the public to gobble up with hitherto unmatched frenzy, and we suddenly lost our collective ass -- although not enough to prevent the banking wizards from doling out massive government assistance funds as executive bonuses at staggering rates.

Still, despite this eight-year sojourn of Bush-Cheney stupidity, what President Obama inherited in 2009 doesn't hold the proverbial candle to the mess FDR had to face seventy-six years earlier. As depressions go, that was a doozy. We weren't noticing gradual recovery indicators as early as 1933, which has already become the case now.

To help fortify our point, we're about to look back upon common incidents that kept occurring throughout those virtually forgotten mid-thirties, and ask how much has repeated itself in this current age. For example:
* How many city block-long breadlines have you seen, either in person or on TV screens?
* Right around the corner from the breadlines, how many men have you similarly viewed
queuing up by the hundreds, waiting to apply for jobs -- any whatsoever?
* How many freight trains have you watched roll past with primarily empty deadheading
cars?
* Furthermore, how often have you been able to count fifty or more hoboes riding atop or
standing inside the open doors of those empty rail cars?
* How many tramps have shown up at your front door either asking to do odd jobs on your
property in return for a single meal, or else simply requesting some of your pocket change?

We haven't had retail or other small business enterprises go bankrupt in fantastic proportions.
Relatively speaking, many seem to be doing rather well in view of this supposedly disastrous downturn.

Restaurants are still crowded at lunch and dinner hours. We observe football stadia, baseball parks, boxing and other sport arenas constantly filled to capacity. We often find standing room only at theater and concert performances. Little or no such ongoing bonanzas existed back then.

Since a man could barely afford to take his kids to a ball game in the afternoon or his wife and family out to an evening movie, he was at least able to drop over to the nearest ice cream emporium and spend a relatively small sum for a household treat to be enjoyed. While slurping away, the people would sit and listen to popular nighttime radio programs, absolutely free. A small degree of pleasure thus remained available at minimal cost. How many of you have had to resort to such penny-pinching activities in the past couple years?

No indeed, this economic stumbling of today ain't nothin' in contrast. Believe us, we sat through the entire rugged affair.

OUR AMERICAN CLASSROOMS -- INSTITUTIONS OF LEARNING OR LOCALIZED DICTATORSHIPS?

Almost everyone these days seems to be aware that our educational system has reached a near-chaotic state. In this writer's usual ultra-critical opinion, this certainly isn't a situation of recent origin. As far as we're concerned, it dates back at least to when this fellow was a rosy-cheeked lad seated in the normal succession of schoolrooms, not so dutifully, not so obediently, and not so impressed with the teaching and disciplinary methods employed.

A browse of the internet will turn up several latter-day essays discussing how and why the process has fallen on its face. Most of them tend to dance around the issue, offering analytical comment from a politically-oriented angle. However, a particular piece by a man named Charles Sullivan entitled The Failure of Mass Education, published in February 2003, hits quite a few nails on their proverbial heads. Our readers are urged to call this one up and go over it closely.

For purposes of emphasis, we've chosen to reproduce Mr. Sullivan's opening paragraph, which sums up the mess quite nicely.

"What are our public schools but an instrument of the state? Our students are not taught the
skills of critical thinking that would serve them well as citizens in a free society for the
entirety of their lives. Mass education focuses upon memorization and scoring well on exams.
Our schools do not promote independent thought or independent actions -- they teach
conformity and control of the masses. Every student is taught virtually the same thing in
essentially the same way -- much of it untrue; especially history and economics. Our
students are not educated to become useful and creative members of society; they are
programmed to be unquestioning conformists and mindless consumers of goods and
propaganda. Thus we are creating a society of automatons who will never challenge
authority, who will behave predictably and will be staunch defenders of the status quo. In
other words, they will become the passive core of American society."

Being strongly in accord with this article's content, we promptly shot off a lengthy email to Charles Sullivan, congratulating him profusely and adding a few relative opinions of our own. For some unfortunate reason, though, the address shown at the piece's end is no longer valid, in light of the failure notice received. Nevertheless, we feel compelled to pass on the above digest of his thoughts, along with a few more observations from our personal "dear old golden rule days" experience.

In thirteen years, from kindergarten to high school graduation, we cannot recall a single instance where any Miss Pruneface up front ever made a statement to the effect that school was an institution where her sworn duty as a teacher involved making sure we students adequately educated ourselves. Oh no, the attitude conveyed never deviated a centimeter from "You'll either behave properly, read your textbooks carefully, and get high examination grades, or suffer the slings and arrows of lifelong damnation".

As a result of living and working in several foreign countries for more than four decades, we've dealt with people from quite a few other nationalities. In many cases, mutual understanding could be difficult, due to variations in the respective teaching practices to which we'd been exposed. However, we never had the slightest communication problems with fellow American expatriates. The main reason is that we all had had identical history, geography, literary, and other classroom dogma crammed down our throats while progressing from one grade to the next. Our common educational backgrounds were predicated on stereotyped methodology.

By way of partial redemption, we are pleased to add that we didn't find such ongoing conditions to be as catastrophic at the university level. Students reaching that stage have attained reasonable maturity and have pretty good ideas about what they're shooting for. Unhappily, a countless number of youthful minds have already become somewhat warped, thanks to their schoolroom training to date.

One of the most severe flaws in our education process is the supposedly vital importance attached to passing examinations with the highest possible marks. Consequently, cheating
by all sorts of means has prevailed for centuries, even in university classrooms. This malady will undoubtedly continue so long as today's teaching doctrines remain unchanged.

Once again, no instructor ever told us the unvarnished truth about periodic tests being intended to show the student how fully he or she has grasped the essential subject matter, thus conveying the need for increased diligence where warranted. Instead, the whole affair has evolved into a rat race, where a person must strive in every possible way to outdo the young ladies and gents seated alongside.

For several years, this writer has been carrying on disappointing one-way correspondence with numerous former classmates. Many have resorted to non-replies, even via quickie email messages, because of a few caustic remarks about the old days. Perhaps equating our high school administration with the Gestapo has had something to do with this ex-communication. Additionally, occasional reference to the institution's revered female Dean of Girls as the Iron Bitch has most likely been another factor. Still, such rather exaggerated opinions stand firm, with no thought of retraction ever being considered.

On the slightly favorable side, we do admit to having grown to respect just three individual high school teachers for their competence and conscientiousness, despite the systematic rigidity foisted on them. The rest were merely punching time clocks and dishing out what the dogma called for. Like Adolph Eichmann, they were only following orders.

Subsequent to our own learning days, we went on to suffer the discomfort of observing the educational process applied to three growing children under North American policies. Not a single improvment was ever noted over our earlier student era.

How long will it be before our teaching monarchy finally realizes and accepts the fact that this perennially-sagging atmosphere simply has to be rectified?

A PAIR OF LEFT-HANDED TRIBUTES

The late night TV show host/comedian Jay Leno has been known to make the following observation in regard to our two leading political parties:

"Every time I think I might want to be a Republican they do something greedy. Every time I
think I might want to be a Democrat they do something stupid."

We are inclined to agree with Mr. Leno to the extent of 75%, which means that the "stupid" label most certainly fits, but we'd substitute "dirty" for "greedy" in the second instance.

There is no doubt that GOP doctrines have long been greed motivated. However, their political maneuvering tactics have seldom failed to take an insulting and underhanded approach, from the days of FDR right up to the 2008 election campaign. Still, what can one expect from a party that has managed to turn out only two completely worthy Presidents (Abraham Lincoln and Theodore Roosevelt) in all U.S. history?

On the other hand, the Democrats have had their fair share of near-moronic moves for as far back as we can remember.

As always, this writer stands open to debate on such issues.

THOUGHTS ON SHORT-TERM CONFINEMENT -- A RATHER INAPPROPRIATE PERSONAL ANALOGY

The scenario we're about to create is purely speculative in nature, for reasons which will readily become obvious. Nevertheless, we're unable to resist dwelling on a little relatively senseless conjecture.

Should this writer be offered the option of spending a month flat on his back in a hospital bed or else in a prison cell, quite frankly a coin flip would be required. Furthermore, if the clink sojourn turned out to be the loser, insistence would likely be placed on at least a two-out-of-three toss basis.

As already stated, this is no more than a hypothetical issue. It's clear that a hospital stay becomes necessary only for health treatment purposes, while going to the pokey stems from breaking the law. The underlying reasons aren't even remotely comparable.

Still, that's not the point we're endeavoring to establish. We're simply saying that a short prison sentence appears preferable in certain respects to sick room confinement.

The immediately foregoing statement isn't based on mere theory. This writer has had his fair share of days reclining in a hospital room. On the other hand, he cannot attest to having spent a month in a civilian hoosegow. A longer stretch as a prisoner of war a few international skirmishes ago must be excluded from comparison, due to many entirely different underlying circumstances.

Now let's move straight to the meat of the situation, namely our personal reasons for giving preference to a supposed jail term over a hospital stay.

First of all, in prison one is allowed to move about within a cell, albeit somewhat cramped spacewise, supplemented by daily strolls outside.

Moreover, nobody comes in every hour or so to glare at you while jabbing needles into your arm, stuffing you with pills, checking your blood pressure and other vital signs, or whatever else is needed to further your recovery. We deem freedom of mobility to be more important than being tied down to a bed and probed in the extreme. Besides, visitors can come see you in either situation.

There is one major offsetting element, of course, in that the people tending to you at the hospital are bound to be far kinder and gentler than the unsavory criminal characters who share slammer quarters with you. Perhaps we're putting insufficient emphasis on this matter. We'd have to be tossed into a cell for about 30 days before arriving at a more fully-studied conclusion.

Before closing this somewhat inane piece, we must acknowledge that neither the patient nor the inmate really amounts to any more than a mere number -- a statistic in recorded medical or correctional history -- even though allowed to retain his or her name for mere identification purposes while on-scene, and becoming almost totally forgotten thereafter.

ON ARKS, ONLY BEGOTTEN SONS, AIDS, AND SPARROWS

The words you're about to read are not the outpourings of a deeply religious-minded person, but rather one who tries to look at all things in a practical light.

Moreover, the intent here is not to debate in the slightest regarding the authenticity of the Bible.
For purposes of this treatise, it must be presumed that all the words in the Good Book represent
absolute facts. Otherwise, proceeding any further would be useless.

The Book of Genesis tells how God advised Noah to build an Ark, so that each living animal species might be preserved to "start over". Then came the Flood, wiping out all land-based creatures in the known world of that era, except for those aboard the vessel.

What is the theological significance of said event? Simply that the Almighty had become disappointed with how Mankind -- conceived in His own image -- had grown to behave. He elected to eradicate His mistake and offer a second chance in that world sector considered to be the seat of religion.

Therefore God, in His infinite wisdom, carried out a destructive act against His living beings. So what was the result? Did Man wise up and improve upon its ways? We all know the answer to that.

Since taking such a devastating course had accomplished little in the long run, a second gigantic gesture was then made -- this time a most productive one. The Lord begat and placed His own son among the people on earth, as described in the first four books of the New Testament.

There is no need to elaborate on the story about Jesus' life and death. Most of us have already been thoroughly indoctrinated on that score. The important point is the manifold influence wrought by the Son of God. Christianity has become the world's dominant faith, and has affected our life styles, business practices, and laws, often infringing significantly upon those who choose different religious pursuits.

Truly, the coming of Christ indeed proved to be supremely influential. His presence may well be felt for ongoing millennia. Unquestionably, this was the Almighty's most productive act since earth's creation.

Did this master step work? We might say yes, at least in contrast to the Ark bit. Still, would you call Mankind's subsequent performance/behavior pattern to date adequate in respect to God's divine will? Absolutely not, and we see no need to cite the countless whats and whys of our negative response to such question.

We've now reached the stage in this writing where biblical "fact" leaves off and supposition must take over.

Within very recent years, a strange hitherto unknown physical malady has contaminated our population. The medical brains have dubbed it the Acquired Immunity Deficiency Syndrome, or AIDS for short. Only homosexuals and prostitutes were attacked at first, but the effect has since become far more widespread, even among many innocent of unnatural or promiscuous misdeeds.

Some relatively fanatical religious types have rationalized AIDS as a "penalty" imposition upon the less-than-straight-and-true populace. Although initial reaction of a logical-minded person might be to scoff at such theory, a little probing analysis actually tends to support the idea, no matter how ridiculous it may sound right off.

If we look back at the Almighty's two "really big" past acts in dealing with humanity -- one destructive, the other productive -- does it not stand to reason that a selective process has now been put into play? Can we arbitrarily dismiss the thought that God has chosen to inflict punishment on those who offend him, due to their immoral habits? Might placing a death sentence upon those who engage in such practices be of divine origin?

Still, we find a strict affirmative answer rather difficult to offer, on the premise that the innocent are suffering and dying along with the guilty. Many men, women, and children bearing untarnished records must have perished in the Flood. With our presumption of unquestionable fact for the Holy Scriptures, it must stand to reason as well that God Himself is not perfect. The "He who weeps at the fall of a sparrow" reference could be a debatable issue.

Prolonging the conjecture on this last topic seems needless, except to simply add that, taken in isolation, our AIDS thesis could easily be deemed unacceptable. Nevertheless, when viewed in perspective with the two major foregoing events -- provided they are considered factual by the reader -- the idea does appear to have merit.

None of us here today can really prove or disprove either the Ark or the Messiah acts to have occurred as written about. Individual interpretations remain a matter of personal belief. However, the last point we've raised, which may eventually impact the entire human race in some way, should at least be viewed as a thought-provoking subject.