"Does anybody have a dictionary?"

A friend, on her blog, pointed out that Marco Rubio doesn't know the difference between less and fewer. I would suggest that he's ignorant in many areas of the English language. In a recent 60-second Rubio promotion, the bubble-headed senator in glorifying his father, said,  "So my father stood behind a small portable bar in the back of a room for all those years, so that I could stand behind this podium in front of this room and this nation. That journey from behind that bar to behind this podium, that's the essence of the American dream." Sorry, Marco, you cannot stand behind a podium. You stand on a podium and behind a lectern. True, using the word podium instead of the correct word lectern is a common mistake and since you are so common, I'm not surprised.

UNWANTED PORNOGRAPHY

In order to illustrate this blog, I take images from Bing. Up till now it has worked fine. But now, no matter what visual I request, it includes many, many, many pornographic images. Why? I just typed in "Dramatic shots of man on stage" and along with a smattering of photos of men on stage was an array of pornographic shots both straight and gay, some erotic, most repulsive, having very little to do with a stage. I'm not opposed to pornography, but shouldn't it be something you requested?

Note: The visual above is just one of the less obscene, but equally creepy, offerings included when I
requested "Dramatic shots of man on stage." Yuck.

A money-making invention.

It's depressing to find out that someone we sort of like turns out to be a greedy little shit, or at least his family does. It seems that Ahmed Mohamed, that Muslim-American teenager who was arrested after bringing a homemade clock to school, is suing the city and school district. It seems that his family feels that the minor discomfort he suffered (when authorities who thought the device which did look like a bomb looked like a bomb) is worth $15 million in damages. It's a pity that somebody always wants to profit from any kind of misuse of authority, no matter how minor. Hopefully the judge will see this for what it is, and accept that the though the teacher overreacted, she still erred on the side of safety in a world where, yes, a child might bring a bomb to school disguised as a clock. Ahmed's parents are, with this opportunistic suit,
setting a terrible example for Ahmed.

Death of a friend.

As a fan of true crime I often watch programs like Forensic Files. It is surprising how many of their true cases involve a spouse, usually a husband, slowly poisoning his wife or business partner with arsenic. More often than not the doctors and hospital cannot understand the patient's deterioration until they conduct special searches for arsenic which they don't often do. Usually they attribute the patients sudden failure to thrive to some disease or organ malfunction. Once the patient is dead, good detectives test for arsenic, often using hair samples. This is why so many killers rush their spouse to the crematorium. It's always a horribly sad story that happens to people you don't know. But today I was made aware of it on a personal level. Years ago a close female friend, who was attractive and vivacious and had a coterie of admiring friends met an obnoxious and controlling Englishman18 years older than her 26. For some reason she adored this bombastic bore, so much so that she eventually gave up all her friends and family. Even though I had not heard from her for over 20 years, I always expected to run into her. Today I learned from another long ago friend that she had died at 53. I, and everyone else that knew her, immediately assumed that he had murdered her. By doing some research I found that she had supposedly died of celiac disease, but no tests for poisoning were ever done. She was immediately cremated and this ne'er-do-well inherited her home and trust fund. When he returned to his ill-gotten house, showing no signs of grief or regret, the neighbors and all past friends scorned and ignored him. I'm happy to report that 18 months after her death, and having no one to control or even communicate with, this creature committed suicide by taking pills, his body, upon discovery, was rancid, bloated, and fly-infested.

It's about time.

Today I did something that took a lot of courage. And I'll bet you haven't been able to do it. And I know you need to, because almost everyone needs to. You think about it, and you're almost ready to take the plunge, and then you stop. Maybe I should wait a little longer, you think. Or this could turn out real bad. Then you think it's a memory problem. If only I could remember what these are, you tell yourself. Then you fail to, once again, do what you should, what I actually did today at about 4:30 pm. I threw away every key I've had for ages that I didn't know what it unlocked. Every last one of them. Just tossed them. About fifteen different keys. Impressive looking brass keys that certainly unlock doors or bolts. Tiny little silver keys that surely open up boxes and tins, maybe even miniature padlocks. Familiar-looking keys and some that are totally foreign to me. I didn't care. I just took them all, put them in a plastic bag, tossed them in the rubbish, and even took them out to the trash bin, which I then rolled directly to the sidewalk. I feel really good about this action, cleansed, relieved, unburdened by the constant awareness of those mysterious, possibly necessary, keys uselessly cluttering up kitchen drawers. The only thing I don't feel good about is that they don't take the trash until tomorrow.

A roadblock on the information highway.

One thing that no longer exists as it once did is Information, 411. It's still there, but it's practically useless. Though I have foolishly tried to use it many times in the past couple of years, it never provides the correct number until the recorded device turns you over to an equally ignorant operator. Today I tried to get the number of a friend named Cheeseman. The record kept saying, "You want the number of Junior Achievement. Is that correct?" When I finally did reach a living person, she finally figured out  the name I wanted. However, before it was read to me I had to listen to several commercials, including one for my most hated nemesis Comcast. The Internet isn't much more helpful. Technology has replaced many services that were far superior to modern technology.

No YouTube today.

I'd love to watch some YouTube videos today, but I can't. Well I could, but it would mean I have to keep watching the irritating Bold Look of Kohler commercial which plays before every single video I want to watch. Who decided that the same video commercial has to be played over and over for every YouTube selection? It doesn't make me want to buy the product so much as never purchase anything made by the company. Note I did not include the commercial. Why should you suffer, too?

What SunTrust calls protection.

Today I received my new SunTrust card in the mail. This was the card with "chip technology for enhanced security".  To activate it, I was required to call a phone number (probably in Omaha). Since I assumed this was a security measure, I was prepared to provide them with my Social Security Number, home address, mother's maiden name, or any other information that would safeguard my identity.  Therefore I was surprised when the mechanical voice asked me to read the 16-digit number on the card.  Since SunTrust has a lousy phone system, it could not make out my carefully articulated reading, so I typed it in. Once I did, the voice thanked me and said my card was now activated. I am assuming the system identified me by my phone number, but I'm not convinced in this age when more and more consumers lack land lines.  One wonders if a  thief had stolen my mail today and opened it to find my new credit card, would all he or she have to do is read off, or type, 16 numbers, then have complete freedom to use my credit card?

"Gawd, this man is ugly."

I'm guessing, and I could be wrong, that Rafael Cruz
doesn't know that he's terminally unattractive.  If he did, he would not have put his ugly mug on the cover of his ghost-written book. He would not look so peacocky at fundraisers. And he would never subject his audiences to his Grandpa Munster smile. But sadly he not only thinks he's attractive, but—are you sitting?— macho and funny. This mistaken belief can be the only possible explanation for his video Making Machine Gun Bacon with Ted Cruz. In the video, a goony grinning Cruz wraps bacon around the barrel of a semi-automatic machine gun and then fires off a round of shots which supposedly heats the bacon. One wonders why someone this disturbed owns a semi-automatic machine gun and what this demonstration is supposed to prove. Is it a fundraising tool designed to arouse the generous donations of Duck Dynasty fans everywhere? Or does he think Hormel will hire him as their new spokesman once he fails to get any kind of support for the presidency? All it proved to me is that Rafael Cruz is a huge rancid lump of Canadian bacon.

The dead are not grateful.

Ironic that so many of these rock bands think it's "cool" to have morbid names like Eagles of Death Metal and feature such stage decor as the skeletons seen here. Sadly it's not so cool when real death intrudes on their trendy motifs as it did in Paris.  I've never understood why young people with so much to live for have such an affected fascination with death and dying, but I hope this terrible Paris massacre inspires some bands to choose more life-affirming names.

In a way I feel bad for Ben Carson. I remember when I was competing in the Olympics, we were constantly under scrutiny by the organizers and the press. I remember telling  Jennifer Lopez I had to cancel dinner because I thought the publicity might hurt her career. Naturally she was angry. I think that's why she married Marc Anthony. But she got over it, and I had three gold medals to comfort me. But I was in it for the sport, not the money which is why I told Wheaties to shove it, but not in those words. Like Ben,  I wasn't looking for attention and glory. Not at the Olympics, and not when I turned down the scholarship at the Naval  Academy. So I can appreciate Ben's problems with the press. I think he's sincere. Let me ask this: If they didn't keep the wheat in the pyramids, where did the keep it? I've been to Egypt four times and I never saw any wheat storehouses. And what kid doesn't stab a  friend or two all in good fun? Ben is a neat guy and I hate to see everyone picking on him. But he's tough. He can take it. After all he is the great great grandson of Kit Carson. 

"...it was the worst of times."

'ACT OF WAR' 
ISIS CLAIMS CREDIT

Two comments this Saturday morning after the attacks in Paris. At least one news outlet (HuffPost) wrote that ISIS, "CLAIMS CREDIT". Don't they know that you take "responsiblity", not "credit". Killing 120 people is not an admirable act.  Also columnist Howard Fineman wrote that, "We are all Parisians, again." What kind of idiocy is that? When were we all Parisians before? And isn't it time to retire that cliche, which was not a cliche when President Kennedy said we were all Berliners. The Paris attacks are hideous, horrific, and frightening because such carnage can happen anywhere when they involve soulless zealots. It's hard to imagine that there is an army of creatures filled with so much hate that they can kill so indiscriminately. But I am sure that we, the civilized, will stupidly employ reason and law to deal fairly with these monsters once we capture them, if we capture them outside of their moment of terrorism. That's a pity. Because to dispatch every proven member of ISIS whether home-grown or newly arrived for another country, including and especially the United States, I would like to see the return of the guillotine, and I will happily take up knitting.

credit noun (PRAISE)

› [C/U] ​praise or ​approval, esp. to ​recognize ​achievement:[U] You have to give him credit for being so ​honest.[U] How can he take credit for ​work he didn’t do?

America's pious pinhead.

This past Friday, presidential candidate Rafael Cruz said that he believes anyone who wants to be president must fear God and pray daily and that "an atheist is not fit to be president." In short, he feels that every president should believe in magical thinking, assume that some supreme being somewhere in the sky will hear a president's plea for world peace and act on it, and that that "old time religion" is necessary for any occupant of the White House. He clings to this belief despite the fact that there is world hunger, global warming, horrible violence, millions of homeless refugees, and hundreds of other daily occurring atrocities which Cruz's pray-worthy God doesn't seem to have any interest in preventing, (not to mention that He made Cruz himself god-ugly). Plus how naive is this moron to assume that none of our presidents have been atheists? Of course they couldn't out and say so in a pseudo-Christian country, but it is foolish to assume that all of our past presidents were as blindly superstitious as he is. Also considering that Rafael is such a liar, panderer, and hypocrite, it wouldn't surprise me a bit if he weren't an atheist himself, although I don't think he's enough of a rational thinker for that to be the case.

Liam calls it in.

I've just watched one of the worst films I've seen in years. I probably shouldn't even admit that I would waste several hours watching anything is worthless as Taken 3, but I did. The good news is when you're watching poorly-directed trash like this, you can muse about other things. Like: Would Liam Neeson ever land high-salaried drek like this if, at 63, he hadn't kept a full head of hair. Or: How do directors as mediocre as Olivier Megaton get to helm million dollar projects like this, even if they are crap? Or does it even make sense that a man, to find the killer of his wife. will endanger hundreds of people on the L.A. Freeway, destroy several buildings, create a panic at a college that could have left students trampled, destroy lots of private property, beat the hell out of cops just doing their job, demolish a two million dollar aircraft and possibly killing the pilots, and never face any kind of arrest at the end? Or: When did all the mediocre directors get together and decide that you have to change the screen image at a headache-causing every three seconds to keep up the momentum which was never there in the first place?  What's the point of bitching about it. Rotten serials like Taken 3 will be made again and again, and probably rake in lots money from willing morons or moviegoers like me who actually liked the first Taken. What I found most amusing about the entire experience is that at the end of the film, the first credit to be seen was: Directed by Olivier Megaton. So I guess he didn't realize that this piece of shit was something to be embarrassed about. On the other hand Megaton sounds like a pseudonym, so maybe he did.

I don't like Comcast anyway. But is it a coincidence that my service seems even slower on Sunday?  Longer waits. More disconnects. More screw-ups. If this is true of you, too, you can let me know by
clicking, "No comments", the idiotic way this blog encourages readers to make comments.

MISSING FOR EIGHT YEARS.

The most disturbing thing about Leah Remini's fascinating expose of the Church of Scientology is the question, "Where is Shelly Miscavige?". This is a question Ms. Remini has asked repeatedly about her one-time friend who has been missing, or at least non-communicado, since 1990. As the wife of the powerful head of the church David Miscavige, one is very curious what could possibly have happened to her. Even more of a mystery is why did the Los Angeles Police Department refuse to even follow up on this missing person's report, taking the word of church leaders that, "she was fine and did not want to be found." (Imagine if someone had said that about Elizabeth Smart.) The story is that she is at the Church's desert compound  (a punishment center in Riverside County, California.) Considering that Miscavige has been accused of imprisoning and personally beating up disloyal members at this compound, the idea that Shelly is dead is not so far-fetched. Since the Church was able to blackmail IRS agents into giving them undeserved tax-free status (allowing them to amass billions) it is not unlikely that their influence is felt with many law enforcement departments, possibly even the FBI. One will only know that this is not the case when these crime-solving authorities get off their asses and find Shelly Miscavige, dead of alive.

Heh Heh Heh

Don't Cheney and Bush look like two villains from a superhero comic book, gleefully laughing at all the death and destruction they have caused? On this earth there are not two more despicable creatures. And to think that the Republicans want to install a statue of Cheney in the Capitol. That shows just how much the GOP really cares about the thousands of service men and women who died in the faux war of these gloating war criminals.

"Duh. I think silos might make good cemeteries."

It seems Ben Carson has revealed another one of his idiotic theories. Now he is of the opinion that the ancient Egyptians built the pyramids, not as tombs, but to store wheat. One can only imagine how easy it would be to access those vast volumes of wheat from narrow hallways and hidden chambers. He also feels that God helped them with the design and not some visiting aliens—equally unlikely helpers. The Egyptians did not worship Benny's non-existent God so it is unlikely He would have helped them with construction even if all supreme beings—from Osiris to Jehovah— weren't a complete fantasy. The fact that this truly stupid Being There character is number one in the polls is one of the great mysteries of the 21st Century.

Note: I think I found a clue to Carson's success. On the Internet I could not find a single photo that  reflected just how incredibly ignorant this guy is.

Odd rituals.

Straight men are terrified of showing affection for another man. A quick and awkward hug is about as far they will go. But just let them win a game or series and they're hugging, kissing, and rubbing their bodies together in ecstatic embraces. It's a pity that most men can't show the same kind of love for lifelong, or even recent, male friends that they do for teammates who may be total strangers to them off the field.

Everyone's missing the point.

This Sunday on "Meet the Press" Paul Ryan told Chuck Todd that the smell of cigarettes from Boehner's chain smoking still lingered in the speaker's office. He wasn't sure how he could get the smell out. This led to lots of media discussion about the evils of smoking and the lingering odors. But I think everyone missed the point of this story. I think this is an incredible indictment of Ryan's character. He chose to publicly ridicule John Boehner by pointing out that he probably smoked illegally in a public building, that he was addictive, and basically that he stank. Now I don't like Boehner and never have. But Ryan is supposed to be a loyal Republican. But in order to remind Americans how pure and healthy he is he chose to expose his colleague to public derision. I think this was a despicable act of disloyalty from a smug and thoughtless punk. Ryan should have dealt with the problem, embraced his new job, and kept his prissy little mouth shut.

So many baaaad ideas.

One of the most annoying requests in life, the one that fills me with fury and an immediate f.u. response is when any supplier, notably Comcast writes on the bill "Please put your account number on the check."What am I, their clerk?  While paying the bill that I think is far too costly anyway, why should I take the time to seek out and write down on the check their 15-digit account number? More and more businesses are depending on you to do part of their job, such as self check-out at CVS and Home Depot. No thanks.  I want someone to ring me up. Another major offender are restaurants and fast-food outlets that want you to bus the  table when you are done. This is a perfectly acceptable request when  the prices are so reasonable that one is glad to provide a helping hand to keep them low. (That, after all, was its original intent.) But it should not apply to such pricey establishments as Starbucks. But then we Americans are easily manipulated. Look how often we—including me—give tips to people who are standing behind a counter and not providing any extra service. Why do we feel we have to help prosperous business owners pay their help?

Comments please.

I get almost no comments from my blog. Surely I must have amused you, or irritated you or, even better infuriated you, but still no comments. Too bad because I like debating. And, besides, there are so many things I don't know that could be answered by someone reading my blog. But maybe you don't know how to reply. It isn't very clear. But I think it's simple. All you have to do is click,"No comments" and presto, you have a place to comment. So how about giving it a try. Especially you: One of my favorite people who showed up at my birthday party 33 years ago dressed as Harpo Marx.