Ramble ramble ramble...
WARNING: no rhyme or reason to the following. Still fighting the ravages of a monster cold.
Well, I’m back at it today. Still not 100%, but much better. That was just an amazing cold, and I hope none of you get it. Wednesday I was sneezing a little bit, but nothing too alarming. When I got home from work, within the space of an hour I was down for the count. Thank God it was just a 24-hour bug. Now I can get back to what’s important, which is…well, you know my views on what’s important: nothing, in the great scheme of things. So, if anything, I can get back to focusing my brain on the meaningless of it all rather than dwelling on the fact that my sinuses were at full refining capacity for 24 hours.
Don’t get all mad at me for the “meaningless” thing, by the way. I’m joking. Lighten up.
My cold made me think of the bird flu. Have you had about this bird flu thing? Apparently, if this flu mutates into the type of virus that can be transmitted from human to human, our species is screwed. Some estimates of the death toll have been as high as 150 million, but today the Center for Disease Control lowered that to 2-7 million.
You all know I’m not a Michael Moore fan, but something he said in his documentary “Bowling for Columbine” is really ringing true right now: the fact that the media really thrives on perpetuating utter fear in the populace. We’re all acutely aware of the inaccuracies reported about Hurricane Katrina: 150,000 dead. Rapes and murders in the Superdome. Police officers sodomizing children stranded in daycare centers. Okay, I made that last one up, but it’s not too far off the mark.
Then there were gas prices: If Hurricane Rita strikes the coast with full force, gas prices will skyrocket. I heard conservative pundit Sean Hannity prodding a governmental official to come out and say gas prices could top five dollars per gallon. “Could it happen? Huh? Pretty please? Please, please, please tell me we’ll be paying five dollars per gallon for gas.”
It was like hearing a five-year old badger his parents for a trip to Disneyland. He seemed to be deriving genuine pleasure from eliciting some acknowledgement from an official source that people would experience genuine suffering.
Of course, we’re all hearing that heating prices will be increasing two or even threefold this winter, which brings to mind the Boy Who Cried Wolf story. I’ve become so desensitized to the media’s incessant claims of catastrophe that if and when it occurs, I’ll be wholly unprepared. And besides, what can I do about it? Like very other working person, I'll simply shrug my shoulders and make do somehow.
The thing is, while new doom and gloom prophecies are tossed out on a daily basis, very real things are happening that should give sober men pause. The Saint Paul Pioneer Press reported this week that city residents are facing a 20% property tax increase. Read that again: a 20% property tax increase. While forecasters say that natural gas prices will double or triple, I can guaran-damn-tee you that low income folks will continue to be immune from the higher prices. They’ll continue to receive heating assistance from the government (i.e. that big pot of magical money delivered daily to the state capitol by unicorns) while working stiffs scratch their heads seeking ways to make ends meet without declaring bankruptcy. And the federal government, despite a call for a quarter billion dollars in aid for victims of Hurricane Katrina, nonetheless continues to dole out pork-barrel money by the trillions for unnecessary roads, obscene artworks, and countless other projects guaranteeing Congressmen and Senators continue to get re-elected year after year.
I’m fearful, but not of the bird flu, nor of natural disasters. I’m fearful that we’ve reached the genuine point of no return as far as common sense in government. The fact that the City of Saint Paul is willing to increase property taxes by an incredible 20% and not address spending problems is unconscionable. Forgive me for mentioning it again, but it brings to mind the book Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, wherein out-of-touch government officials place Herculean taxes and restrictions on businesses and working folks, then express genuine puzzlement when productive members of society begin dropping out.
A local newspaper ran a story this week about affordable housing. They spotlighted a 24-year old single mother who has been on a waiting list for affordable housing for three years. For three years she’s waited patiently for a handout. There was no indication of whether she had sought other means to provide for herself and her child. Rather, the reader was to pity her for not receiving a cheap apartment compliments of the Saint Paul taxpayer who, as mentioned above, will soon be forking over an additional 20% in property taxes on top of God knows how much more in energy costs.
We’re reaching the point where the working man can no longer sacrifice. I know that in my own life, I’m making decisions based on rising taxes and energy costs. My wife and I will be moving to the cities, closer to our jobs and my college. I will be seeking employment closer to my home, given that my daily 60 mile round trip commute is eating me alive in fuel costs. I’ll be keeping a close eye on the thermostat this winter, probably buying an extra sweater or two rather than pay through the nose for natural gas and electricity.
And yet there are those who needn’t sacrifice. The welfare checks will continue to be printed. Single moms will have their stipends increase with each child, receiving subsidized food and housing. Government officials, who have no idea what a loaf of bread or gallon of milk costs, will continue shelling out money to non-producers so their lucrative government jobs are secure. And folks like you and I will continue to cut corners wherever we can, but when we get to the point of no return, what then?
I foresee a rebellion in this country. A rebellion by productive citizens against over-reaching government and non-producers. I don’t know how it will manifest itself, but if my own frustration is any indication I think it could get quite ugly, and perhaps it’s about damned time.
Well, I’m back at it today. Still not 100%, but much better. That was just an amazing cold, and I hope none of you get it. Wednesday I was sneezing a little bit, but nothing too alarming. When I got home from work, within the space of an hour I was down for the count. Thank God it was just a 24-hour bug. Now I can get back to what’s important, which is…well, you know my views on what’s important: nothing, in the great scheme of things. So, if anything, I can get back to focusing my brain on the meaningless of it all rather than dwelling on the fact that my sinuses were at full refining capacity for 24 hours.
Don’t get all mad at me for the “meaningless” thing, by the way. I’m joking. Lighten up.
My cold made me think of the bird flu. Have you had about this bird flu thing? Apparently, if this flu mutates into the type of virus that can be transmitted from human to human, our species is screwed. Some estimates of the death toll have been as high as 150 million, but today the Center for Disease Control lowered that to 2-7 million.
You all know I’m not a Michael Moore fan, but something he said in his documentary “Bowling for Columbine” is really ringing true right now: the fact that the media really thrives on perpetuating utter fear in the populace. We’re all acutely aware of the inaccuracies reported about Hurricane Katrina: 150,000 dead. Rapes and murders in the Superdome. Police officers sodomizing children stranded in daycare centers. Okay, I made that last one up, but it’s not too far off the mark.
Then there were gas prices: If Hurricane Rita strikes the coast with full force, gas prices will skyrocket. I heard conservative pundit Sean Hannity prodding a governmental official to come out and say gas prices could top five dollars per gallon. “Could it happen? Huh? Pretty please? Please, please, please tell me we’ll be paying five dollars per gallon for gas.”
It was like hearing a five-year old badger his parents for a trip to Disneyland. He seemed to be deriving genuine pleasure from eliciting some acknowledgement from an official source that people would experience genuine suffering.
Of course, we’re all hearing that heating prices will be increasing two or even threefold this winter, which brings to mind the Boy Who Cried Wolf story. I’ve become so desensitized to the media’s incessant claims of catastrophe that if and when it occurs, I’ll be wholly unprepared. And besides, what can I do about it? Like very other working person, I'll simply shrug my shoulders and make do somehow.
The thing is, while new doom and gloom prophecies are tossed out on a daily basis, very real things are happening that should give sober men pause. The Saint Paul Pioneer Press reported this week that city residents are facing a 20% property tax increase. Read that again: a 20% property tax increase. While forecasters say that natural gas prices will double or triple, I can guaran-damn-tee you that low income folks will continue to be immune from the higher prices. They’ll continue to receive heating assistance from the government (i.e. that big pot of magical money delivered daily to the state capitol by unicorns) while working stiffs scratch their heads seeking ways to make ends meet without declaring bankruptcy. And the federal government, despite a call for a quarter billion dollars in aid for victims of Hurricane Katrina, nonetheless continues to dole out pork-barrel money by the trillions for unnecessary roads, obscene artworks, and countless other projects guaranteeing Congressmen and Senators continue to get re-elected year after year.
I’m fearful, but not of the bird flu, nor of natural disasters. I’m fearful that we’ve reached the genuine point of no return as far as common sense in government. The fact that the City of Saint Paul is willing to increase property taxes by an incredible 20% and not address spending problems is unconscionable. Forgive me for mentioning it again, but it brings to mind the book Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, wherein out-of-touch government officials place Herculean taxes and restrictions on businesses and working folks, then express genuine puzzlement when productive members of society begin dropping out.
A local newspaper ran a story this week about affordable housing. They spotlighted a 24-year old single mother who has been on a waiting list for affordable housing for three years. For three years she’s waited patiently for a handout. There was no indication of whether she had sought other means to provide for herself and her child. Rather, the reader was to pity her for not receiving a cheap apartment compliments of the Saint Paul taxpayer who, as mentioned above, will soon be forking over an additional 20% in property taxes on top of God knows how much more in energy costs.
We’re reaching the point where the working man can no longer sacrifice. I know that in my own life, I’m making decisions based on rising taxes and energy costs. My wife and I will be moving to the cities, closer to our jobs and my college. I will be seeking employment closer to my home, given that my daily 60 mile round trip commute is eating me alive in fuel costs. I’ll be keeping a close eye on the thermostat this winter, probably buying an extra sweater or two rather than pay through the nose for natural gas and electricity.
And yet there are those who needn’t sacrifice. The welfare checks will continue to be printed. Single moms will have their stipends increase with each child, receiving subsidized food and housing. Government officials, who have no idea what a loaf of bread or gallon of milk costs, will continue shelling out money to non-producers so their lucrative government jobs are secure. And folks like you and I will continue to cut corners wherever we can, but when we get to the point of no return, what then?
I foresee a rebellion in this country. A rebellion by productive citizens against over-reaching government and non-producers. I don’t know how it will manifest itself, but if my own frustration is any indication I think it could get quite ugly, and perhaps it’s about damned time.
posted by Admin Worm at 7:26 AM
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