Unix, Music, and Politics ... What was I thinking?

I've got my eye on a set of Bridgestone Dueler A/T 694 Revo's for my Hemi Ram. The awful Michelin LTX A/S factory tires have worn down after only 30K miles, and the thing is worse than Bambi on ice when bad weather comes around. I'm also moving up slightly from the stock size of P245/70-17 to the optional P265/70-17 size. This has to be done before pull a trailer and haul Scouts to summer camp in Colorado, so the tax refund is coming in at just the right time.

Anyone running the Revo's on your truck right now? Opinions?

Fellow Business Executives:

As the Chief Financial Officer of this business that employees 140 people, I have resigned myself to the fact that Barrack Obama will be our next President, and that our taxes and government fees will increase in a BIG way.

To compensate for these increases, I figure that our clients will have to see an increase of about 8% in fees, but since we cannot increase our fees right now due to the dismal state of our economy, we will have to lay off six of our employees instead. This has really been eating at me for a while, as we believe we are family here, and I didn't know how to choose who will have to go.

So, this is what I did. I strolled through our parking lot, found 8 Obama bumper stickers on our employees' cars, and have decided these folks will be the first to be laid off. I can't think of a more fair way to approach this problem. These folks wanted change; I gave it to them.

If you have a better idea, let me know.

Sincerely,
Management

Pull out of Iraq?!?!

Perhaps the U.S. should pull out of Chicago?

Body count:

In the last six months:

292 killed (murdered) in Chicago;

221 killed in Iraq.

Chicago.... Who Runs it:
Senators: Barack Obama & Dick Durbin

Rep: Jesse Jackson Jr.,

Illinois Gov: Rod Blogojevich,

Illinois House leader Mike Madigan,

Illinois Atty. Gen. Lisa Madigan (daughter of Mike),

Chicago Mayor Richard M. Daley (son of Mayor Richard J. Daley)


our leadership in Illinois.....all Democrats.

Thank you for the combat zone in Chicago.

Of course, they're all blaming each other!

Can't blame Republicans; they're aren't any!

State pension fund $44 Billion in debt, worst in country.

Cook County (Chicago) sales tax 10.25% highest in country. (Look 'em up if you want).

Chicago school system rated one of the worst in the country.

This is the political culture that Obama comes from in Illinois. And he's gonna 'fix' Washington politics for us?

I think I’ve figured out today exactly why firearms are not allowed past the security checkpoint at the airport. If they were not prohibited, there would be multiple United Airlines agents lying dead and bleeding.

My 8:40am flight Monday morning was delayed to 9:05. Meh, big deal. But sitting on the plane at the gate for 90 minutes following the late boarding, it was announced that the forward flap on the left wing was not operating properly. Further, it was necessary to fly-in a part and the mechanic to fix it. Time to get off the plane. The next United flight to Denver was also scrubbed due to a tire pressure problem. Fine. Time for Plan B.

CW Travel located a couple of Frontier flights with seats available that would get me to San Francisco around 4pm. Since I was already ticketed, I’d need to call United for the switch. Great. After a few calls to United, I finally got connected to an agent with a marginal grasp of the English language. He confirmed me on the Frontier flights to SFO via Denver. Problem solved, right? Not exactly.

At the Frontier counter, I was told that both flights were full, and I was not confirmed on either. I’d need to go back through security and wait at the Frontier gate. At the Frontier gate, they used the “confirmed” record locator that United had given me. According to this particular minion of Satan, the United agent on the phone hadn't "done it right", and I'd need to go see the United gate agent to have them fix it. The ONE United gate agent already servicing a line of 20+ people. And I had 5 minutes before standby seats were released on the Frontier flight. This is the point at which my cherub-like demeanor began to wane.

Back to the United line for a lengthy wait. Long enough to miss the Frontier flight. It's now nearly 1pm. United thought the original plane for flight 1231 to Denver would probably be ready to re-board and leave around 3pm. But hey, what's a 6-hour delay among friends? Make that a 9-hour delay. We did not board the 8:40am flight to Denver until 6pm. The next connecting flight from Denver got me into Oakland kinda late. I think it was just beyond the point where nocturnal woodland creatures say, "Screw this, it's late and I'm tired. Let's go to bed."

Fast forward to Friday. The engagement is done, the customer is happy, and I'm back at the Oakland International Airport where my departing flight with United seems to be on time. Stupid me. Two minutes after we were to board United 452 to Denver, it was announced that the flight was one stewardess short and would be delayed by about an hour. Perfect! If, IF I manage to get in the air an hour late, I'll have just enough time to catch my connecting flight in Denver.

The wayward stewardess showed up from San Francisco, and we were on our way about an hour late. When I got to Denver, I find out that my connecting flight has been delayed by about 30 minutes. After arriving at gate B26, I had to make my way clear down to B55. After waiting for my delayed connecting flight, we get a gate change announcement gleefully informing us that the new deparutre gate will be B33. I'm convinced someone with a sadistic sense of humor and access to security video is manipulating all of this.

Down to gate B33 I go where we all wait again and enjoy the B31 gate agent make six (SIX!) final boarding calls for the flight to Dulles. So is it final or not. Apparently the first five really weren't. Yes, well back to my flight which is now boarding. And quickly. We've been cautioned by our expert gate agent that we must board quickly and get off the ground lest our pilots cannot fly due to being out of their duty hours. Oh, that is rich. After what I've been through this week, they can just sit down, shut up, and fly the stupid plane regardless of how long I take to find my seat.

As the final insult, I find myself in a window seat sandwiched between the fuselage and the girth of a 600+ pound man. I'm not a small person, but at least I fit all of me into one airline seat. I feel sorry for the guy that was next to me, but honestsly he should have purchased two airline seats rather than sharing himself with his adjacent passengers. All kidding aside, only 34% of this guy fit in his assigned seat. Another 33% pinned me to the window and the final 33% forced his other seatmate to lean way into the aisle. Frankly, it was gross.

With no thanks to United, I made it back to OKC late but with just enough sanity left to drive home and pass out. I swear to you my Labrador Retriever could do a better job of running an airline. Fuel prices are not the problem. Rude, clueless, inept people "running" the airline are the real downfall.

A redneck and a yuppie were sitting next to each other at the bar....

redneck: "So I guess youins went to college?"

yuppie: "Yes, I did."

redneck: "Where'd you go?"

Yuppie: "Yale."

Redneck: "I SAID WHERE'D YOU GO?"

While a new student at Harvard, I was talking to a professor and asked him, "Where's the library at?" The professor said, "Young man, this is Harvard. We do not end sentences with prepositions." So I said, "Okay. Where's the library at, asshole?"

What to wear when your wife has chores for you to do:

In election 2008, don’t forget Angry White Man

Gary Hubbell
February 9, 2008

http://www.aspentimes.com/article/2008198091324

There is a great amount of interest in this year’s presidential elections, as everybody seems to recognize that our next president has to be a lot better than George Bush. The Democrats are riding high with two groundbreaking candidates — a woman and an African-American — while the conservative Republicans are in a quandary about their party’s nod to a quasi-liberal maverick, John McCain.

Each candidate is carefully pandering to a smorgasbord of special-interest groups, ranging from gay, lesbian and transgender people to children of illegal immigrants to working mothers to evangelical Christians.

There is one group no one has recognized, and it is the group that will decide the election: the Angry White Man. The Angry White Man comes from all economic backgrounds, from dirt-poor to filthy rich. He represents all geographic areas in America, from urban sophisticate to rural redneck, deep South to mountain West, left Coast to Eastern Seaboard.

His common traits are that he isn’t looking for anything from anyone — just the promise to be able to make his own way on a level playing field. In many cases, he is an independent businessman and employs several people. He pays more than his share of taxes and works hard.

The victimhood syndrome buzzwords — “disenfranchised,” “marginalized” and “voiceless” — don’t resonate with him. “Press ‘one’ for English” is a curse-word to him. He’s used to picking up the tab, whether it’s the company Christmas party, three sets of braces, three college educations or a beautiful wedding.

He believes the Constitution is to be interpreted literally, not as a “living document” open to the whims and vagaries of a panel of judges who have never worked an honest day in their lives.

The Angry White Man owns firearms, and he’s willing to pick up a gun to defend his home and his country. He is willing to lay down his life to defend the freedom and safety of others, and the thought of killing someone who needs killing really doesn’t bother him.

The Angry White Man is not a metrosexual, a homosexual or a victim. Nobody like him drowned in Hurricane Katrina — he got his people together and got the hell out, then went back in to rescue those too helpless and stupid to help themselves, often as a police officer, a National Guard soldier or a volunteer firefighter.

His last name and religion don’t matter. His background might be Italian, English, Polish, German, Slavic, Irish, or Russian, and he might have Cherokee, Mexican, or Puerto Rican mixed in, but he considers himself a white American.

He’s a man’s man, the kind of guy who likes to play poker, watch football, hunt white-tailed deer, call turkeys, play golf, spend a few bucks at a strip club once in a blue moon, change his own oil and build things. He coaches baseball, soccer and football teams and doesn’t ask for a penny. He’s the kind of guy who can put an addition on his house with a couple of friends, drill an oil well, weld a new bumper for his truck, design a factory and publish books. He can fill a train with 100,000 tons of coal and get it to the power plant on time so that you keep the lights on and never know what it took to flip that light switch.

Women either love him or hate him, but they know he’s a man, not a dishrag. If they’re looking for someone to walk all over, they’ve got the wrong guy. He stands up straight, opens doors for women and says “Yes, sir” and “No, ma’am.”

He might be a Republican and he might be a Democrat; he might be a Libertarian or a Green. He knows that his wife is more emotional than rational, and he guides the family in a rational manner.

He’s not a racist, but he is annoyed and disappointed when people of certain backgrounds exhibit behavior that typifies the worst stereotypes of their race. He’s willing to give everybody a fair chance if they work hard, play by the rules and learn English.

Most important, the Angry White Man is pissed off. When his job site becomes flooded with illegal workers who don’t pay taxes and his wages drop like a stone, he gets righteously angry. When his job gets shipped overseas, and he has to speak to some incomprehensible idiot in India for tech support, he simmers. When Al Sharpton comes on TV, leading some rally for reparations for slavery or some such nonsense, he bites his tongue and he remembers. When a child gets charged with carrying a concealed weapon for mistakenly bringing a penknife to school, he takes note of who the local idiots are in education and law enforcement.

He also votes, and the Angry White Man loathes Hillary Clinton. Her voice reminds him of a shovel scraping a rock. He recoils at the mere sight of her on television. Her very image disgusts him, and he cannot fathom why anyone would want her as their leader. It’s not that she is a woman. It’s that she is who she is. It’s the liberal victim groups she panders to, the “poor me” attitude that she represents, her inability to give a straight answer to an honest question, his tax dollars that she wants to give to people who refuse to do anything for themselves.

There are many millions of Angry White Men. Four million Angry White Men are members of the National Rifle Association, and all of them will vote against Hillary Clinton, just as the great majority of them voted for George Bush.

He hopes that she will be the Democratic nominee for president in 2008, and he will make sure that she gets beaten like a drum.

While suturing a cut on the hand of a 75 year old California rancher, whose hand was caught in a gate while working cattle, the doctor struck up a conversation with the old man.

Eventually the topic got around to Hillary Clinton and her bid to be our President.

The old rancher said, "Well, ya know, Hillary is a 'post turtle'."

Not being familiar with the term, the doctor asked him what a 'post turtle' was.

The old rancher said, "When you're driving down a country road and you come across a fence post with a turtle balanced on top, that's a 'post turtle'."

The old man saw a puzzled look on the doctor's face, so he continued to explain.

"You know he didn't get up there by himself, he doesn't belong up there, he doesn't know what to do while he is up there, and you just want to help the dumbass get down."

This is one of the reasons Ronald Reagan was one of our most beloved presidents.

Christmas
January 9, 1978

All the traditions associated with Christmas were observed as usual in the past holiday season including the chorus of complaints that over-commercialization is robbing the day of its true meaning. I'll have to confess I can't join that chorus. Somehow the ads offering helpful gift suggestions when we are filled with the spirit of giving, the decorations on the streets and in the stores, the familiar carols add to the Christmas spirit for me and don't really strike me as crass or inssensitive money grubbing.

I am disturbed however about something I read over the holidays which could *really* rob Christmas of its meaning for millions of us who see it as more than just the birthday of a great and good teacher. I realize there are those who by religious belief consider Jesus a very human prophet whose teachings about love for one another, treating others as we would like to be treated ourselves are sound patterns for living; that he is to be respected but not worshiped.

But for many of us he is much more. He is the promised messiah, the Son of God come to earth to offer salvation for all mankind. It was disturbing therefore to read that in many Christian seminaries there is an increasing tendency to minimize his divinity, to reject the miracle of his birth and regard him merely as human.

Meaning no disrespect to the religious convictions of others, I still can't help wondering how we can explain away what to me is the greatest miracle of all and which is recorded in history. No one denies there was such a Man, that He lived and that He was put to death by crucifixion.

Where then you may ask is the miracle I spoke of? Well consider this and let your imagination translate the story into your own time -– possibly to your own home town. A young man whose father is a carpenter grows up working in His father's shop. He has no formal education. He owns no property of any kind. One day He puts down his tools and walks out of His father's shop. He starts preaching on street corners and in the nearby countryside. Walking from place to place preaching all the while even though he is in no way an ordained minister he never gets farther than a narea perhaps 100 miles wide at the most.

He does this for three years. Then He is arrested, tried and convicted. There is no court of appeal so He is executed at age 33 along with two common thieves. Those in charge of His execution roll dice to see who gets His clothing -- the only possessions he has. His family cannot afford a burial place so he is interred in a borrowed tomb.

End of story? No this uneducated, propertyless young man who preached on street corners for only three years who left no written word has for 2000 years had a greater effect on the entire world than all the rulers, kings and emperors, all the conquerors, the generals and admirals, all the scholars, scientists and philosophers who have ever lived -- all put together.

How do we explain that? -- Unless He really was what he said he was.

Where did the term "Tom Cruise Crazy" come from?

Here:
http://gawker.com/5002269/the-cruise-indoctrination-video-scientology-tried-to-suppress

You might find this interesting as well:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/6650545.stm