Friday, June 11, 2010

Can Y'all Keep a Secret?

Years ago, while James was visiting Andy and Lauren in Ohio (back when Lauren was pregnant with our granddaughter) and he just happened to be snapping photos in their kitchen, he inadvertently took a shot of their refrigerator, which just happened to have magnetic letters spelling out baby names. Thus, long before Andy and Lauren got around to announcing the baby's name we knew the short list of possibilities.



Well, as it turns out Lauren is again expecting just right when James is visiting. So before James and Amber headed off for their Alaskan vacation, we reminded James to let us know if they found any interesting names magnetized to the fridge. Sure enough our spy has come through for us. James emailed us a picture just this morning, so now we know the potential names for our first grandson!

Because I'm completely confident that none of my readers would dare tell Andy & Lauren about our spy sharing their tightly held secret, I feel safe blogging about our discovery. Feel free to share your opinions about your preferences among these names.


Saturday, June 5, 2010

Ain't It Great?

Ain't antisemitism great? I mean, where's the downside?

To me (as it was to dear old Papa Joe Kennedy) antisemitism means ...
  • Not ever having to bother with rational thinking;
  • No need to ever examine yourself for moral flaws;
  • Giving your darkest impulses full vent while smugly claiming superiority over those who are your betters;
  • Always having a ready patsy for the consequences of your bad decisions;
  • But best of all, antisemitism means ... defaulting on your debt to the God of Israel -- and thus assuming your rightful place as the final arbiter of "right vs wrong".

As John Lennon (or was that Vladamir Lenin?) used to urge us: "Imagine!"

Imagine Passover leaven, bacon cheeseburgers 'n fries;
The only bris in hubris, not e'en reform rabbis.
Imagine no Yom Kippur -- having our own way.

Imagine there's no Israel, no People God did choose;
No one to gas at Auschwitz, none of those pesky Jews.
Imagine nosy Yentas gone from all the world.

You may say that I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.
I hope someday you'll join me -- my world will be mine to run.

Imagine no Hebrew Bible; I wonder if you can.
No Heebs or kafir Yahoodi from here to Pakistan.
Imagine Muslim brothers living life in peace.

You may say that I'm a dreamer, and I'm not the only one.
I hope someday you'll join us -- Allah's world will live as one.


Ain't antisemitism great?

Saturday, May 29, 2010

The Paint Fairy

Two Christmases ago I posted a poem about my having extended the Santa myth just a bit longer than I probably should have. To set up this story, I need to share that ditty once again:

'Tis the night before Christmas and up at the table,
Little Ben is a-scribbling as best as he's able,
The kids at the school have been dissin' the man,
So Ben's little mind is devising a plan.

Ben should be nestled all snug in his bed,
But questions of truthfulness buzz in his head;
He scrawls on his card stock; I bring the ink pad.
He's cleverly testing if he has been had.

The milk and the cookies have always been downed,
But now he needs proof a little more sound.
His marker, it moves with a flair and a flash,
"Lev your tum print Santa---" he ends with a dash.

Our little wise guy, so cunning so slick,
Has baited his trap for alleged Saint Nick.
Then carefully sets out the ink pad and note,
So Santa will use it (like Iraqi's all vote).

"Ben's dashing, now dancing, now prancing, and fixin'
to check if old Santa rides a sleigh that he sits in!
I say, "To bed with ya now!" [down the end of the hall]
"Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
So Ben mounts to the bunk, his bed way up high.
Then Mom and I wait for the whispers to quiet,
We've got us a ploy, but not sure if he'll buy it.

Next morning Ben's thrilled by the handsome ink blot,
But checks out each hand, looking for spots.
With nary a stain on the parenting mitts,
He exultantly cries, "There is a Saint Nick!"

Mom and I stifle our dance in the zone,
(lest high-fives now possibly make our sin known:
With a wink of my eye and a nod of her head,
Without overt lying, we've once more misled).

A year then has past and (kids getting pubescent)
I figure it's high time that I get confessant.
I lay out the truth as plain as you come,
Answers Ben back: "How 'bout the print of the thumb?"

"Didn't check my toes, didja?" I humbly admit.
Ben looks at me hard, then utters, "Aw ... shux!"
But he heard me exclaim, ere he walked out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to y'all, and to y'all a good-night."






So now, here's the reason for that poetic interlude:

I'd just shoved the key into the lock when I heard the phone ringing. We'd had a wonderful three-day visit with that amazing bundle of energy and imagination who is our three-year-old granddaughter, but we (having hugged the darling goodbye and completed our four-hour drive home) were thankful to be home. Again the phone screamed for attention, so I quickly pushed the door open, stepped to the nearest phone, grabbed the receiver and handed it to my social secretary.

Joyce spoke:
"Hello?
...
Oh hi Ben! We just walked in -- are you ready to go to supper?
...
Where did you work today?
...
So how long do you figure it'll take you to drive back from ... ? Wow!!! Someone went and painted the living room and kitchen while we were gone!

By this point even I had started smelling the latex fumes and begun marveling at the dazzling brilliance that was so recently the patched ceiling (which I'd re-textured more than a year ago). I got on the phone and started quizzing Ben about how he could have accomplished all this in short time we'd been gone.

Then after we said goodbye to our youngest son, I spotted the note on the kitchen counter:


Monday, May 24, 2010

Now Global Warming Makes Sense

Joyce: Now that's ridiculous!

Bob: What's that?

Joyce: This article says that global warming is being caused by all those baby-boomer women going through menopause at the same time.

Bob: So you mean to tell me the scientists were wrong, and global warming's not being caused by flatulent cows? ... Ummm, then again ...

Joyce: I can't believe you said that.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

Inconceivable? - Apparently Not

So the big news is ... It seems James's beautiful bride is NOT ...



Now, as for baby names. After hours of discussion, Joyce and I have finally picked out the perfect name -- a name everyone has heard repeatedly in the past year, but one which will not likely be shared by half of the kindergarten class of 2016: "Eyjafjallajokull" (you know, that active volcano in Iceland that's been fouling air traffic in Europe).

Okay, so maybe giving a wee baby a 16-character first name (added to the injury of a 10-character last name) would be going a bit overboard, but that's easily fixed. We'd just use the nickname: "Eyja".

We're still working on a boys name. Yeah, it'll be hard to top "Eyjafjallajokull" but we're working on it. James and Amber, you can count on us.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Corpus of Christie

I know I'm not suppose to look at porn (even Conservative Porn like this), but I just can watch this video of New Jersey's Governor Christie enough times.


Thursday, May 13, 2010

Joining That Long Line

Finally (after months of waiting, while rumors flew and preparations proceeded fitfully), James's unit has received orders -- they will deploy to Afghanistan around the beginning of July. And so it is that James leaves his young bride and joins that long line of soldiers who've gone before.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

A Mothers Day Hint

Upon learning that Joyce and I have been married for over 32 years, folks often ask, "So what's the secret to a successful marriage?"

And I always answer (despite my having to interrupt about three seconds into Joyce's "Ummmm, well ... uh, let me see ... uhhhhhh ..."): "Gift giving! Joyce can always count on me to give the perfect gift on just the right occasion. I mean, how can she keep herself from loving a guy who knows how to satisfy her deepest desires the way I do?"

And since I'm such a caring and sensitive guy (as a service to my vast readership here at the LOST FART), I always keep my eye out for helpful holiday gift ideas that can aid you on your journey to marital bliss.

Some of you may remember my dynamite Mother's Day gift suggestion from last year: "The Rodenator". As great a gift as the Rodenator was for any mother with a troublesome gopher infestation, not all moms are potato farmers in Idaho. So as Mother's Day looms, you may be asking yourself, "But what should I get my non-agrarian mom on her big day? Is there a gift that almost every mother can use?"

Indeed there is. I have found that perfect present for virtually every mom. Consider this: It's simply a statistical fact that most moms are married, and among all those married moms, the vast majority of them are wed to a member of the cruder gender. And further, among all those mothers who foolishly married men, there's a near statistical certainty that her man suffers from chronic nighttime flatulence. So here it is: The one Mother's Day gift that is sure to make mom's life much more pleasant.



Don't thank me. I'm a giver.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

The Right to Health Care

Not long ago Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi declared health care a right. By this she meant: Whether a person has the means to pay for medical services or not, he is nonetheless entitled to them. As appealing as that idea might seem, let's consider its logic. Let's say one of our neighbors (we'll name him "Tom") suffers from diabetes and he has no means to pay a doctor for treatment or a pharmacy for his insulin. Does Tom have a "right" to "Dr. Dick's" services and a prescription from "Harry's Pharmacy"? And, if those services are not provided without charge, should Tom be able to call for criminal sanctions against Dick and Harry for violating his right to health care?

But if Tom can force Dick and Harry to serve him without pay, then in what way does that arrangement differ from slavery? However, let's suppose (instead of Tom's being able to force Dick and Harry to provide services without pay) Congress were to use its power of taxation to take money from Peter and it gave that money to Tom so he could pay "Paul's Clinic" for his health care. Is taking Peter's money to pay Paul any different morally than Tom's forcing Dick and Harry to work without compensation?

Of course there would be one important tactical difference -- concealment. Given America's shameful history of slavery, we would be immediately (and rightly) outraged if one person directly and visibly forced another person to serve him without compensation. But using the tax system to stealthily accomplish the same end (transferring the earnings of one person to another) stirs no such outrage.

Genuine rights do not confer the power to steal from others. That means the exercise of my right (whether freedom of speech, or religion, or press, or the right to bear arms) does not impinge on the rights of others, nor impose on them an obligation to provide me with the means to exercise my right. For example, my right to own firearms cannot be understood to mean that other citizens must surrender their weapons or provide me a 45 auto. But (employing the logic of Ms Pelosi's definition of health-care rights) my right of free speech should require the government to force others to provide me with an auditorium, television studio or radio station. My right to travel freely should require the government to force others to provide me with a vehicle, gasoline, airfare and hotel accommodations.

By Nancy Pelosi's definition of so-called this "right to health care" (the guarantee that I will never be denied any good or service that is medically indicated, whether I can afford it or not), the government must diminish someone else's rights, namely their rights to their own earnings. Of course the reason such a "right to health care" necessitates theft from my fellow citizen is simply that the government has no resources of its own.

It would be very generous of President Obama to open his wallet to pay for my medical needs, but sadly Mr Obama is neither independently wealthy nor quite so altruistic. The only stash of money that President Obama has with which to pay for my "right to health care" belongs to someone else -- someone who actually earned that money. Yet apparently Congress (like most little children) still believes in Santa Claus, and sadly the Jolly Old Elf always turns out to be those same old grumps who have to eventually cough up the payment for all the goodies we so carelessly broke on Christmas afternoon. For government to give one person a dollar, it must first confiscate that dollar from some other person.

But there's more than a mere tactical difference between Ms Pelosi's so-called "right to health care" and the old-time institution of slavery. Ms Pelosi's "right to health care" has a great strategic advantage over Antebellum Slavery -- advancing the cause of slavery far beyond the confines of a darkly hued minority. This newly discovered "right to health care" modifies the very meaning of "rights", insidiously changing a "right" from something given by God to something rationed by government. It is the essence of tyranny for the government to define rights as something it alone gives. After all, didn't Adolf Hitler himself claim that Germans had the absolute right to "Freiheit und Brot" (freedom and bread) just before he proceeded to ration out both to the German people?

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Every Knee Will Bow

On this Resurrection Morning, it's time to consider what Paul told the Philippians -- "At the name of Jesus, every knee will bow (of those who are in heaven and on earth and under the earth), and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."

Though we be trumpet or drum
(Else His Breath voicing through us
Or bearing the blow that is due us)
We all give sound to His praise.

Every tongue shall confess
(Else singing praise of Who Bled
Or grinding teeth as the dead)
All cry: "Wondrous His ways!"

Though we be trumpet or drum
(Else His Breath voicing through us
Or bearing the blow that is due us)
We all give sound to His praise.

Every knee shall bow down
(Else at a rugged old Cross
Or when accounting our loss)
None of us meeting His gaze.

Though we be trumpet or drum
(Else His Breath voicing through us
Or bearing the blow that is due us)
We all give sound to His praise.

Friday, April 2, 2010

I'm a Pagan

Bob: What's this? You emailed me this "Jesus Test" email? Why are you sending me junk email with dire warnings that I'm a rotten Christian if I don't send it to everyone in my address book?

Joyce: I had to. I don't want to burn in hell.

Bob: Oh, in that case. That's okay.

Joyce: How about you? Are you gonna burn in hell?

Bob: Yup.