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Reason Offline.

What’s in a name? Whatever you want if you are Frank Zappa or this guy

Beezow Doo-Doo Zopittybop-Bop-Bop. Yes, that is the guy’s name.

I want to point something out.

Last week a teenage widow with an infant was told by the dispatcher that he could not tell her to shoot the intruders in her home but she needed to do what she needed to do to protect her child.

And the cops, being adults, said she was within the law. And they were right.

But then there is the judge that allowed “Beezow Doo-Doo Zopittybop-Bop-Bop” to change his name. You could argue that it is a free country and that as an adult he had the right… But most adults find this sort of a name to be indicative of a ridiculous time-wasting attention-getting cry of a man-child with separation-anxiety issues involving his unhealthy fixation on his third-grade teacher.

Calling bullshit on people and refusing to cave to their childish little bullshit excuses for being a wanker ought to be the norm, not the wild exception, even more so for judges.

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I think everywhere you go they ought to just start banning people for using their damn cellphone where it is totally rude, but this is a start… a cellphone stack

It works like this: as you arrive, each person places their phone facedown in the center of the table. As the meal goes on, you’ll hear various texts and emails arriving… and you’ll do absolutely nothing. You’ll face temptation—maybe even a few involuntary reaches toward the middle of the table—but you’ll be bound by the single, all-important rule of the phone stack.
Whoever picks up their phone is footing the bill.

I have several co-workers, boss included, that don’t seem to understand that not only are the rest of us unimpressed by their self-importance-inflating toys, we’re kind of insulted that in spite of us having other things to do than be held captive in a stupid meeting ourselves, we’re sitting there while they conduct their more important business. So we sit and listen for when the next ringtone will disrupt 23 people’s meeting yet again.

To get the same interrupting BS at a restaurant? I do not pay good money for a table, food, and good service so I can be put on edge by someone else’s delusions of multitasking.

I think I like the idea of crushing the offender’s phone in a doorway better.
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Lets get this out of the way, shall we?

If this be truly a religion of peace they’ll be offended and let it at that…

… but we know that’s not going to happen, right?

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I think it’s nearly done if anyone has last minute comments or critiques speak up now or forever hold your feces peace.

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Scarcity has been especially for the Kingly kind of Lemurs – so sorry.  I’ve been out of touch and not posted much.

Lately I’ve had cause to be rather pissed.

See, the legal system doesn’t really recognize you as being damaged unless you are in a wheelchair, have missing body parts, or are otherwise visidbly disfigured.

I would just like to have my insurance co. cover my medical expenses, but one of the hurdles is that I continue to work (I have a work ethic).  See, if I’d laid around and missed lots of time at work rather than do my best to not miss work in spite of daily pain then legally I’d be better off.  I have missed time at work but I’ve made up nearly every hour that I missed.

The system rewards you for being a burden.  I’ve worked regardless and – I hate the word “suffered” because it makes one sound like a victim but if you boil it down, suffering fits – suffered for years as a result of that auto accident, and the result of having a code of ethics is the life lesson that ethics don’t pay.  Well, that’s a lesson I am going to ignore.

Why bring it up?  Because the remodel job started by my father-in-law still needs completion.  I had a friend come over yesterday to help with the electrical issues.  I did my best to aid him where I could and he even took on sheetrocking for me.  I did try to help him.  I tried to patch screw holes today, screwed a piece or two of sheetrock up, spackled some seams.

And so I find myself in a significant amount of pain today.  Painkiller-bad pain that resists painkillers.  If past events hold true then I stand to have a rough time of it tomorrow and Tuesday.

The question becomes:  What the hell is the difference if you “can” do something vs. can’t (paralyzed perhaps) if the payoff is that your life is fundamentally f***ed up for days?

This isn’t a poor-me post – this is a rant-against-the-system post.  In nearly every other area of this country we do the same thing – we reward those who go by the default position, which is the one that requires the least effort and provides the most burden for others.

We’re giving all sorts of second chances to people who are in danger of defaulting on homes that they can’t afford.  We aren’t taxing half the nation and some of them are getting PAYMENTS come tax time.  We are socializing our health care at a time when entitlements are at an all-time high and growing higher.

Where did we stop having a higher degree of respect for intestinal fortitude, a can-do attitude, and a desire to succeed in spite of personal cost?

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I can’t stand the New York Times and I know the slant they are shooting for in this article on soldiers with PTSD coming back from Iraq, but there’s some truth to it.

There’s a tough-it-out mindset in the military that doesn’t lend itself well to the realities of the mental/emotional damage that happens to our soldiers.  They are human beings, not machines.  And they don’t need just pills, they need someone who is trained to help them through mental and physical pain, too. Sure, meds are important, but they aren’t the whole story.  And, being human, every single one of them needs someone to sit down and tailor their treatment – you can’t assembly-line this stuff.

Update:  The Army has issued statements to refute the NYT article.  This doesn’t change the fact that the military could do more in the area of mental trauma and psych issues – especially given the strain it can put on families as well as the soldiers.  Like I said, I KNOW the NYT has a slant on it, but there’s a bit of truth, too.

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Over at WeaselZippers, a news tidbit – a seeing eye dog refused entry to a restaurant because the waiter thought it was gay

stunned silence.   more stunned silence.   crickets chirp once and go silent.

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