What Fresh Hell?

This is the State of American Politics.

What Fresh Hell?

This is a great honor,

I realize, I was instructed, not to go looking,

but, well,

I just had to.

Here is the plaque I got.

What Fresh Hell?

Dirt Farmer


Oh the poor old dirt farmer,
he's lost lost all his corn
and now where's the money
to pay off his loan?
he lost all his corn
cant pay off his loan
he lost all his corn.
well the poor old dirt farmer,
he only grows stones.
he grows then on down
till they big enough to roll.
he rolls them on down
to the tax man in town.
ya, he rolls them on down
now the poor old dirt farmer
he's left all alone.
his wife and his child
renthey've packed up and gone.
packed up and gone
he's left all alone
they've packed up and gone
well the poor old dirt farmer
how bad he must feel.
he fell off his tractor
up under the wheel.
and now his head
is shaped like a tread
but he aint quite dead.
well the poor old dirt farmer
he cant grow no corn.
he cant grow no corn
cause he aint got a loan.
he aint got no loan
cant grow no corn
he aint got no loan

What Fresh Hell

Please see the comments from My (MOI) last post to fully understand

this joy.

Mr. Walking Man has taken time from his busy day to say,

to wit:

While said in jest I think

if you want more awards for work done

you need to take a chance, go out on a limb, be willing

to be a bit exhibitionist for your art....or

you could just send me an email and I will

forward you a whole file full of awards that I never learned

how to convert to the HTML code necessary to post them.

I award you all of them.

yeah buddy!!!

See, That Jest part is just in jest.

Say What?

Well as it turns out I did not get 4 awards like i thought. Dang, it was just one, for Honest Scrap.
Now it seems that the awards committee is reviewing the process, due to my dis-honest posting of the award last evening.
Somedays, I just can't catch a break.

Walking Man's suggestion of a nude photo of this blogger was the only way he could tell if I was an fine blogger, will not be acted upon.

So here is the award. Thanks Mr. JadedJ, for thinking of me now and again.

What Fresh Hell?

Soooo Like JadedJ gave me an award a while back and I just now picked it up. Pretty Cool Huh?

Thanks JJ Did not realize I was such a fine blogger.
I feel like dancing all night, let's burn the barn down




How 'bout a little more bluegrass.
Blue Yodel #8 Bill Monroe never had it so good.

What Fresh Hell?

Got a new computer.

Bought Windows 7.

Vista sucks the big one.

Hardware changes and blows out all your drivers,

64 bit blah, blah, blah, still working on gettin' it up.

The post now are coming from a 4 year old laptop. best money I every spent.

Here is a photo of the new computer, runs like a champ,

but be careful with the screwdriver

when you connect the dots to start.

Not for chrilrens'

40 Years After

Yesterday's post was yesterday. Here is Jimmy Cliff in 2007.
God Damn the Military Industrial Complex to Hell.
But that is just one poor beggars prayer.

Thanks to Mr. Charleston, for reminding us all what war is good for,

Absolutely Nothing.

Yesterday I got a letter from my friend fighting in Vietnam

And this is what he had to say:

'Tell all my friends that I'll be coming home soon

My time'll be up some time in June

Don't forget', he said, 'to tell my sweet Mary

Her golden lips are sweet as cherry'

And it came from Vietnam,

Vietnam, Vietnam, Vietnam Vietnam, Vietnam, Vietnam

It was just the next day his mother got a telegram

It was addressed from Vietnam

Now mistress Brown, she lives in the USA

And this is what she wrote and said:

'Don't be alarmed', she told me the telegram said

'But mistress Brown your son is dead'

And it came from Vietnam,

Vietnam, Vietnam, Vietnam Vietnam, Vietnam -

hey - Vietnam

Somebody please stop that war now!

Vietnam, Vietnam, Vietnam, Vietnam - oh Vietnam, Vietnam -

oh - Vietnam, oh oh oh oh -

somebody please stop it Vietnam, Vietnam -

oh - Vietnam, Vietnam, oh oh oh oh Vietnam -

hey - Vietnam - aha - Vietnam -

oh oh yeah

I wanna say now

somebody stop that war - Vietnam .... - oh yeah, aha ....

There is a famous dead guy, that some go so far as to call The Son of god.

I am Certain if he were to return, as they say he will, he would shake his head and

say Jesus, this is not what i meant at all and take the A train Home.

On a lighter note, this is the Joy a Letter from Home can bring.

nuff said

Not for the weak.

This is from my brother who lives in Forrest City, Arkansas.

It is very disturbing, I don't know what to do with it, but the sadness is too great to not so something, even if it is wrong. There is a callous level of torture that define understanding.

What Fresh Hell

nuff said

nuff said

Go over to Mr. Charleston's and watch the kids.

These cats are their grand parents.

Well, ya know, back in the day.

Most have done checked out of the Waiting on Jesus Towers.

What Fresh Hell?

From the NY Times.
There has to be a limit, to greed.
Natural or otherwise.
I read something like this and just wonder
what the mothers of these men were like.


A Billion Here, a Billion There

By EDUARDO PORTER
Published: October 4, 2009
Past the initial schadenfreude, it’s hard to figure out what to think about the shrinking of the nation’s 400 most gilded fortunes. It is reassuring that the super-rich can lose money too — $300 billion in the last year, according to Forbes, bringing their total down to $1.27 trillion. It’s about the same percentage that was lost by Americans’ private pensions, whose assets dropped by about $1.1 trillion, nearly 19 percent.

It can hardly hurt as much. Warren Buffett lost $10 billion but still has $40 billion. Kirk Kerkorian has $3 billion left, after losing $8.2 billion. Citigroup founder Sanford Weill dropped off the billionaires list, but still has many millions.

Every year as I get worked up over Forbes’s latest billionaire review, I try to convince myself that accumulation of wealth at the top can serve a social function. I tell myself that inequality of income is a standard feature of capitalism, pushing the best and brightest into the most profitable jobs. It encourages people to study hard and work hard, or at least to become a banker. Big financial rewards push people to excel, and thus the economy to grow.

But $1.27 trillion? That’s a decade of health care reform in one of the more expensive versions. This isn’t garden-variety inequality — this is a winner-take-all deal that can destroy incentives for everyone except those in the upper crust.

Lawrence Katz, a labor economist at Harvard, sensibly points out that one could generate incentives to excel for less: “I don’t think the added incentive of earning $100 million over $50 million is very different than the incentive of making $10 million over $5 million,” he told me once.

Maybe the jolt of billion-plus losses can spur plutocrats to change. Ralph Nader just wrote a novel called “Only the Super-Rich Can Save Us!” in which Mr. Buffett (already a major philanthropist), Ross Perot and a few other billionaires go to Maui to “redirect” society onto the right path. Warren Beatty gets to run California. Wal-Mart workers unionize. Corporate greed is brought to heel.

There is no sign of such enlightenment on Wall Street. Financial markets are back up; bankers are scouring the horizon for new opportunity. The hottest new incomprehensible financial object is the “re-remic,” bundles of distressed mortgages repackaged in a way that banks and insurers can minimize how much cash they must set aside in case the investments go south, again. Amid all this it’s hard to see how our oligarchs could be persuaded to restrain their appetites.

Perhaps I’m being too pessimistic. We could promise that Mr. Nader wouldn’t have a say in the outcome. That would seem like a reasonable incentive.

What Fresh Hell?

This morning I was awakened by my alarm clock which is powered by electricity generated by the public power monopoly regulated by the US Department of Energy. I then took a shower in the clean water which is provided by my municipal water utility.

After that, I turned on the TV to one of the FCC-regulated channels to see what the National Weather Service of the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration determined the weather was going to be like using satellites designed, built, and launched by the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. I watched this while eating my breakfast of food inspected by the US Department of Agriculture and taking the drugs which have been determined as safe by the US Food and Drug Administration.

I saw my son off as he boarded the bus that takes him to the public school, and then I gathered my mail I have to be sent out via the US Postal Service.

At the appropriate time as regulated by the US congress and kept accurate by the National Institute of Standards and Technology and the US Naval Observatory, I got into my National Highway Traffic Safety Administration approved automobile and set out to work on the roads build by the local, state, and federal Departments of Transportation. On my way to work, I stopped to purchase additional fuel of a quality level determined by the Environmental Protection Agency, using legal tender issued by the Federal Reserve Bank.

After spending another day not being maimed or killed at work thanks to the workplace regulations imposed by the Department of Labor and the Occupational Safety and Health Administration, I drove my NHTSA-approved car back home on the DOT roads. I returned to my house which had not burned down in my absence because of the state and local building codes and fire marshall's inspection, and which has also not been plundered of all its valuables thanks to the local police department.

We had dinner - where myself and my family once again consumed food deemed safe by the USDA - with my grandparents who in no way would be able to afford their medications and would likely not still be with us without the assistance of the Medicare program.

After dinner my son played with his toys. One of his toys he no longer has because I was able to dispose of it in a timely manner after the US Consumer Product Safety Commission alerted me that the toy was defective and deemed dangerous as it posed a serious cutting hazard. After playtime, I put my son to bed while reading him a book I was able to check out for no charge from the public library.

All of the day's events were possible in part because of the the national security that's afforded me by the branches of the United States Armed Forces.

Then, as the day neared its conclusion, I logged on to the internet (which was developed by the Defense Advanced Research Projects Administration) so I could post on the FreeRepublic forums and the FoxNation forums how outraged I was that SOCIALISM and government-run programs are DESTROYING AMERICA