When I consider the chemicals that now reside in our bodies, chemicals acquired through ingestion, breathing and touch, I wonder what changes they have made and I wonder if their work is done.
_________________________________________________________________________________________
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
On My Mind Tonight
I watched Paul Ryan discuss the Republican budget on C-Span tonight. Taking questions from the audience, Mr. Ryan was asked how he justified not raising taxes on millionaires while cutting programs that serve the poor.
Mr. Ryan replied that the questioner's formulation was incorrect for this reason: the tax on millionaires proposed by the Obama administration would raise the taxes on small businesses that make over one million dollars a year. Since these businesses are the main source of job creation, the effect from the tax increase on millionaires would retard economic growth.
Here is my problem. According to Forbes, there are over 400 billionaires and over 12,000,000 millionaires in the United States. (It is projected that, by 2020, there will be over 20,000,000 millionaires in the US.) These are individuals, or people. These are not corporations.
It has been my understanding, and I'm quite sure that of the American populace, that talk of taxing millionaires applies to people, or households, that have income larger than $1,000,000 per year.
Mr. Ryan is saying that the tax applies to any entity that makes over 1,000,000 dollars per year, whether an individual or a corporation.
Obviously, one side or the other is confused about (or distorting) the context in which the tax debate is taking place. Or am I missing something here? I would dearly love to recieve an honest and informed answer.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Mr. Ryan replied that the questioner's formulation was incorrect for this reason: the tax on millionaires proposed by the Obama administration would raise the taxes on small businesses that make over one million dollars a year. Since these businesses are the main source of job creation, the effect from the tax increase on millionaires would retard economic growth.
Here is my problem. According to Forbes, there are over 400 billionaires and over 12,000,000 millionaires in the United States. (It is projected that, by 2020, there will be over 20,000,000 millionaires in the US.) These are individuals, or people. These are not corporations.
It has been my understanding, and I'm quite sure that of the American populace, that talk of taxing millionaires applies to people, or households, that have income larger than $1,000,000 per year.
Mr. Ryan is saying that the tax applies to any entity that makes over 1,000,000 dollars per year, whether an individual or a corporation.
Obviously, one side or the other is confused about (or distorting) the context in which the tax debate is taking place. Or am I missing something here? I would dearly love to recieve an honest and informed answer.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
When buying gas didn't hurt.
Around 50 or so years ago, it was not a disagreeable experience to pull into a gas station for a fill-up. You may think I am referring to the price of gasoline then but no. After all, everything was less expensive than today.
No, I recall for your consideration that, as a rule, the following took place with every sale at the pump. You did not have to leave your car. You had already driven over an air hose which activated a bell inside to alert workers that a customer was at the pumps. You were greeted at your car door and asked how much and what kind of gas you required. While the gas was being pumped into your car's tank, the employee cleaned your front and rear windshields, and raised your hood to check the oil, water, and battery. For FREE. At sale conclusion you paid the employee money for the gas. If you were due change from your payment, he walked it out to you and thanked you for your business.
Another curtesy available to any driver was to have the air in the tires checked. For FREE, although a tip was usually proffered unless the driver decided to check tire pressure himself.
If a motorist was planning a trip, one could walk inside the station and find a display of road maps for a dozen or so states as well as a national highway map. All maps were FREE.
Once upon a time (as they say in fairy tales) such courtesies described above were considered good business. Retailers sought customers by being agreeable and offering advantages designed to cause customers to return. This attitude was spread out through many business enterprises at that time.
In the 1970's things began to change. Business people decided that America wasn't a society anymore. We were an empire, a global mover and shaker. All type of markets were available and huge profits could be had without the close attention to detail and customer satisfaction previously seen as important to the bottom line. Accounting and marketing replaced the social and moral values of community enterprise. The stockholder replaced the customer as the focus of attention.
Another feature that was lost in this change, albeit inadvertently, was the disappearance of jobs. Many teenage boys found part-time work at gas stations where they earned money and learned responsibility.
Finally, please don't call this nostalgia. We still have cars that need gas. We still have stations to provide the gas. There is no reason why the same curtesies and amenities we once enjoyed could not be reinstated today.
_________________________________________________________________________________
No, I recall for your consideration that, as a rule, the following took place with every sale at the pump. You did not have to leave your car. You had already driven over an air hose which activated a bell inside to alert workers that a customer was at the pumps. You were greeted at your car door and asked how much and what kind of gas you required. While the gas was being pumped into your car's tank, the employee cleaned your front and rear windshields, and raised your hood to check the oil, water, and battery. For FREE. At sale conclusion you paid the employee money for the gas. If you were due change from your payment, he walked it out to you and thanked you for your business.
Another curtesy available to any driver was to have the air in the tires checked. For FREE, although a tip was usually proffered unless the driver decided to check tire pressure himself.
If a motorist was planning a trip, one could walk inside the station and find a display of road maps for a dozen or so states as well as a national highway map. All maps were FREE.
Once upon a time (as they say in fairy tales) such courtesies described above were considered good business. Retailers sought customers by being agreeable and offering advantages designed to cause customers to return. This attitude was spread out through many business enterprises at that time.
In the 1970's things began to change. Business people decided that America wasn't a society anymore. We were an empire, a global mover and shaker. All type of markets were available and huge profits could be had without the close attention to detail and customer satisfaction previously seen as important to the bottom line. Accounting and marketing replaced the social and moral values of community enterprise. The stockholder replaced the customer as the focus of attention.
Another feature that was lost in this change, albeit inadvertently, was the disappearance of jobs. Many teenage boys found part-time work at gas stations where they earned money and learned responsibility.
Finally, please don't call this nostalgia. We still have cars that need gas. We still have stations to provide the gas. There is no reason why the same curtesies and amenities we once enjoyed could not be reinstated today.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Saturday, March 3, 2012
On My Mind Today
Iran asserts it is not working to build a nuclear weapon.
Israel asserts it does not possess nuclear weapons.
Of these two, which is the bigger lie?
______________________________________________________________________________
Israel asserts it does not possess nuclear weapons.
Of these two, which is the bigger lie?
______________________________________________________________________________
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Anniversary at Buffalo Creek, West Virginia
Today is the 40th anniversary of the Buffalo Creek mining disaster in West Virginia.
The destruction occurred when an earthen dam holding mining waste gave way and flooded the hollows through which the creek ran. 130 million gallons of coal sludge destroyed the towns of Saunders, Lundle, Pardee, Lorado, Crites, and others. 125 West Virginians were killed. 4000 were left homeless. Lakes, ponds, and creeks were polluted; aquatic life destroyed.
The mine owners called it an Act of God. Today, in this more secular age, they might say "Yeah, like, shit happens, you know?"
Everyone who lived there knew the dam would collapse one day. But that made no difference then. No difference now either. The same regulations in effect then are in effect today.
But this happened in a place no one cares about and to a people no one cares about. This is life in Appalachia.
When George W. Bush made the statement that Americans are "addicted to oil" I was shocked. I couldn't tell if it meant that even an oil-rich Texan sees a problem or if it meant that there was no need to pretend anymore.
Our lust for energy sources is rapacious. Our profligate use of energy is depressing. The Power People tell us that we must drill, strip and frack for "Energy Security." Ah, that word 'security'. It has covered so many sins over the years.
What they don't mention is that a half dozen refineries are planned (permitting underway) to process natural gas into a state feasible to transport and sell abroad.
Right now oil companies are exporting American oil abroad even as they tell us we need to find more here for our uses.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
The destruction occurred when an earthen dam holding mining waste gave way and flooded the hollows through which the creek ran. 130 million gallons of coal sludge destroyed the towns of Saunders, Lundle, Pardee, Lorado, Crites, and others. 125 West Virginians were killed. 4000 were left homeless. Lakes, ponds, and creeks were polluted; aquatic life destroyed.
The mine owners called it an Act of God. Today, in this more secular age, they might say "Yeah, like, shit happens, you know?"
Everyone who lived there knew the dam would collapse one day. But that made no difference then. No difference now either. The same regulations in effect then are in effect today.
But this happened in a place no one cares about and to a people no one cares about. This is life in Appalachia.
When George W. Bush made the statement that Americans are "addicted to oil" I was shocked. I couldn't tell if it meant that even an oil-rich Texan sees a problem or if it meant that there was no need to pretend anymore.
Our lust for energy sources is rapacious. Our profligate use of energy is depressing. The Power People tell us that we must drill, strip and frack for "Energy Security." Ah, that word 'security'. It has covered so many sins over the years.
What they don't mention is that a half dozen refineries are planned (permitting underway) to process natural gas into a state feasible to transport and sell abroad.
Right now oil companies are exporting American oil abroad even as they tell us we need to find more here for our uses.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Quotation
"Yet such is the control of semantics over the mind that when words (above all, abstract labels) are learned early in life, the associations acquired with them at the time seem almost permanently "imprinted," except for the small number of people who in each generation try to enlarge or correct them."
W. Jackson Bate
"Samuel Johnson"
_________________________________________________________________________________________
W. Jackson Bate
"Samuel Johnson"
_________________________________________________________________________________________
Goldfish - A Short Story
Four goldfish swam in a sunken bowl pond fringed with water grass in the small walled garden. The garden adjoined the dormitory where the whores lived in an off-limits part of town. There were four of us lounging on the gravel surface surrounding the pond, young soldiers who were a few weeks away from finishing a two-year tour of duty in Japan, and just a few months more from being discharged into civilian life. We were having morning tea in the garden which was reached by an open side door of the dormitory. Well, all except Mike - he was drinking beer.
"How do we get out of this part of town where we're not supposed to be without being seen?," I asked.
Don was acknowledged as our group leader. He said "We ask mama-san to call us a cab. We can't get in trouble if we are seen riding through."
"The hell we can't," I said.
"We'll blame it on the driver," said Don.
"What'll we do today?" said Mike.
Virgil said "Why don't we catch a matinee? The new Cinemascope is over in Fukuoka." Virgil liked movies.
"Maybe," Don said.
"After the movie, what?" I said.
"Let's go to the turkey farm," said Don.
"Gobble, gobble, gobble," said Mike.
"The turkey farm," I said, "Where's that?"
"Gobble, gobble," said Mike again.
"In Fukuoka," said Don. "Hey, mama-san," he called.
An old woman in a robe came to the door. Coming up from her bow, she smiled. She had a face like a marbled gourd.
"Mama-san, dozo," said Don, "Please get a rickshaw for us."
"Hai," she said, bowing again and disappearing inside.
"Gobble, gobble," said Mike, rubbing his crotch.
"I didn't know they had turkeys in Japan," I said.
"Geez, Tom," said Don, laughing with the others, "We're not talking about turkeys. It's girls who gobble your meat. They call the place the turkey farm."
"I know," I said lamely.
"Sure you do," said Mike.
"We'll take the train to Fukuoka and talk about what to do on the way," said Don.
All agreed that was a good idea and fell silent, staring at the goldfish until Virgil spoke. "What are you guys going to do when you get out?"
"Geez," said Mike, "Who wants to talk about that now?"
"Well, I've been thinking about it lately. Thinking alot about it."
"Hell, Virgil," said Don, "there must be something you like to do. Pick something and try it."
"That's just it. I can't. I don't have a choice. Something's already happened and that's what I'll do, that's what I'll be." Virgil was more morose than usual.
"That's crazy. You can choose."
"I don't know, Don." Virgil pointed to the dormitory. "Last night I'm watching a Japanese girl get the bed ready. I don't know her name. She doesn't know mine. She's naked and so am I. We're gonna screw each other, and sleep together. She's in there now if I want more, and it comes to me. She didn't want to be a whore and I didn't want to be in Japan. But some old guys started a war fifteen or twenty years ago and here we are. We had no choice."
"Well, Virgil," said Mike, "did you screw her or just think about it?"
"That girl and I ought to be doing something else in some other place, but here we are with nothing to say about it. Do you see what I mean? Don't you think there's stuff we can't explain?"
"You mean," said Don, "like why don't girls whistle?"
"Or why don't birds fly upside down?" said Mike.
We were all smiling, good-natured in the tease.
"Come on, Virgil." said Don, "you sound like a kid."
Virgil swatted the air with his hand. "I know that. I just don't wanna...I don't know... I don't wanna live with nothin' to say...oh, Hell."
"You will, Virgil," I said.
"Maybe," Virgil said, but I'm telling you Life has secrets that we don't know anything about."
"Worse than that," said Mike, "is to know what the secrets are but you don't understand them."
"No, worse than that," said Don, "is to know what they are and understand them but not know how to use them."
Don and Mike were laughing. They looked at me to see what I had to say. I was looking at the goldfish in the pond. They were motionless in the water save for the flutter of their gills. I knew what Virgil meant. Things happen to people that they just can't seem to do anything about. My father tried one thing, then another, and nothing went the way he expected. So he gave up and drank and left the family alone. My mother grew bitter, silent. My sisters drifted away. But I knew what I was going to do. I was going to re-enlist. It had come to me one night in barracks when I couldn't sleep and I lay there listening to the sounds one hears in a facility open every hour of every day. Even when you were asleep, I thought, you knew that out there on the base life was continous, lights were on, work was getting done, a friend was smiling and talking. And, on waking, it was all there waiting for you to step in and take your place and do your job and keep things whole while others slept. Life had mutuality. You felt important. And there were no big life secrets to worry about. How about that, I got ready to say as I came back from my reverie to hear Mike finish saying "...damn sure won't find me re-upping in this goddamn army."
"That's for sure," said Don. Virgil agreed.
"Hey," I said, "let's go to Fukuoka and find those turkeys."
Laughing, we rose quickly, stumbling into each other to get inside. The goldfish fled to the shadowy water grass.
______________________________________________________________________________________
"How do we get out of this part of town where we're not supposed to be without being seen?," I asked.
Don was acknowledged as our group leader. He said "We ask mama-san to call us a cab. We can't get in trouble if we are seen riding through."
"The hell we can't," I said.
"We'll blame it on the driver," said Don.
"What'll we do today?" said Mike.
Virgil said "Why don't we catch a matinee? The new Cinemascope is over in Fukuoka." Virgil liked movies.
"Maybe," Don said.
"After the movie, what?" I said.
"Let's go to the turkey farm," said Don.
"Gobble, gobble, gobble," said Mike.
"The turkey farm," I said, "Where's that?"
"Gobble, gobble," said Mike again.
"In Fukuoka," said Don. "Hey, mama-san," he called.
An old woman in a robe came to the door. Coming up from her bow, she smiled. She had a face like a marbled gourd.
"Mama-san, dozo," said Don, "Please get a rickshaw for us."
"Hai," she said, bowing again and disappearing inside.
"Gobble, gobble," said Mike, rubbing his crotch.
"I didn't know they had turkeys in Japan," I said.
"Geez, Tom," said Don, laughing with the others, "We're not talking about turkeys. It's girls who gobble your meat. They call the place the turkey farm."
"I know," I said lamely.
"Sure you do," said Mike.
"We'll take the train to Fukuoka and talk about what to do on the way," said Don.
All agreed that was a good idea and fell silent, staring at the goldfish until Virgil spoke. "What are you guys going to do when you get out?"
"Geez," said Mike, "Who wants to talk about that now?"
"Well, I've been thinking about it lately. Thinking alot about it."
"Hell, Virgil," said Don, "there must be something you like to do. Pick something and try it."
"That's just it. I can't. I don't have a choice. Something's already happened and that's what I'll do, that's what I'll be." Virgil was more morose than usual.
"That's crazy. You can choose."
"I don't know, Don." Virgil pointed to the dormitory. "Last night I'm watching a Japanese girl get the bed ready. I don't know her name. She doesn't know mine. She's naked and so am I. We're gonna screw each other, and sleep together. She's in there now if I want more, and it comes to me. She didn't want to be a whore and I didn't want to be in Japan. But some old guys started a war fifteen or twenty years ago and here we are. We had no choice."
"Well, Virgil," said Mike, "did you screw her or just think about it?"
"That girl and I ought to be doing something else in some other place, but here we are with nothing to say about it. Do you see what I mean? Don't you think there's stuff we can't explain?"
"You mean," said Don, "like why don't girls whistle?"
"Or why don't birds fly upside down?" said Mike.
We were all smiling, good-natured in the tease.
"Come on, Virgil." said Don, "you sound like a kid."
Virgil swatted the air with his hand. "I know that. I just don't wanna...I don't know... I don't wanna live with nothin' to say...oh, Hell."
"You will, Virgil," I said.
"Maybe," Virgil said, but I'm telling you Life has secrets that we don't know anything about."
"Worse than that," said Mike, "is to know what the secrets are but you don't understand them."
"No, worse than that," said Don, "is to know what they are and understand them but not know how to use them."
Don and Mike were laughing. They looked at me to see what I had to say. I was looking at the goldfish in the pond. They were motionless in the water save for the flutter of their gills. I knew what Virgil meant. Things happen to people that they just can't seem to do anything about. My father tried one thing, then another, and nothing went the way he expected. So he gave up and drank and left the family alone. My mother grew bitter, silent. My sisters drifted away. But I knew what I was going to do. I was going to re-enlist. It had come to me one night in barracks when I couldn't sleep and I lay there listening to the sounds one hears in a facility open every hour of every day. Even when you were asleep, I thought, you knew that out there on the base life was continous, lights were on, work was getting done, a friend was smiling and talking. And, on waking, it was all there waiting for you to step in and take your place and do your job and keep things whole while others slept. Life had mutuality. You felt important. And there were no big life secrets to worry about. How about that, I got ready to say as I came back from my reverie to hear Mike finish saying "...damn sure won't find me re-upping in this goddamn army."
"That's for sure," said Don. Virgil agreed.
"Hey," I said, "let's go to Fukuoka and find those turkeys."
Laughing, we rose quickly, stumbling into each other to get inside. The goldfish fled to the shadowy water grass.
______________________________________________________________________________________
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
