Bridget Phetasy
This is a repost from 2019. @BridgetPhetasy had a baby, and enthusiastically supports Israel in the dispute over Gaza. … Joe Rogan Experience #1367 – Bridget Phetasy hit the ether last week. Miss Phetasy bills herself as Writer, Comedian, Verified Nobody. Her real name is Bridget Anna Walsh. The Rogan appearance was impressive. At 03:00, Miss Phetasy made a comment.
03:00 “I don’t blame myself for that happening but I do have to take responsibility for the fact that when you’re a woman or a girl and you’re out getting blacked out … bad things happen.” Where was this voice of reason during the Brock Turner circus? A young lady, with a history of blackout drinking, passes out behind a dumpster. This was scarcely mentioned in all the outrage about Brock Turner.
Before going further with this, we can mention a couple of youtube gadgets. If you look under the viewing window, you see three dots. If you click on those dots, you will be able to see a transcript of the show. You copy some of this text, and make a comment. If you put the time of the text in your comment, youtube will make a link to the text. That is how the link, at the start of the paragraph above, was made. The link goes directly to the “don’t blame myself” comment.
Bridget Phetasy is a cool person. She has a youtube show, Dumpster Fire. She likes to make fun of sjw goofiness … a topic that never runs out of material. At 3:48 of the latest episode, she dropped this tidbit: “moving on … clapping banned at Oxford University to stop people from being triggered” She ranted for a few minutes, leading up to this: “around this they banned clapping banned it like I’m gonna end up in the gulag someday fucking clapping I know by these people.”
PG had never heard of this, and wanted to know more. There were several tabloid articles, and this: ‘University of Oxford Clapping Ban’ Rumor. This is the danger of saying “google it.” Someone might find information that you don’t want them to find.
“The first Student Council meeting of the academic year, … passed the motion to mandate the Sabbatical Officers to encourage the use of British Sign Language (BSL) clapping, otherwise known as ‘silent jazz hands’ at Student Council meetings and other official SU events. … BSL clapping is used by the National Union of Students since loud noises, including whooping and traditional applause, are argued to present an access issue for some disabled students who have anxiety disorders, sensory sensitivity, and/or those who use hearing impairment aids.”
Clapping out loud is not banned. Nobody is going to the gulag for applauding. While some noise-weary people might appreciate the use of jazz hands, this ban is simply not going to happen. Bridget Phetasy does not always know what she is talking about. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. The spell check suggestion for Phetasy is Pheasant.
Punzi Scheme
1. The fattest knight at King Arthur’s round table was Sir Cumference. He acquired his size from too much pi. 2. I thought I saw an eye doctor on an Alaskan island, but it turned out to be an optical Aleutian. 3. She was only a whiskey maker, but he loved her still. 4. A rubber band pistol was confiscated from algebra class, because it was a weapon of math disruption. 5. No matter how much you push the envelope, it’ll still be stationery. 6. A dog gave birth to puppies near the road and was cited for littering. 7. A grenade thrown into a kitchen in France would result in Linoleum Blownapart. 8. Two silk worms had a race. They ended up in a tie. 9. A hole has been found in the nudist camp wall. The police are looking into it. 10. Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana. 11. Atheism is a non-prophet organization. 12. Two hats were hanging on a hat rack in the hallway. One hat said to the other: ‘You stay here; I’ll go on a head. ’13. I wondered why the baseball kept getting bigger. Then it hit me. 14. A sign on the lawn at a drug rehab center said: ‘Keep off the Grass.’ 15. The midget fortune-teller who escaped from prison was a small medium at large. 16. The soldier who survived mustard gas and pepper spray is now a seasoned veteran. 17. A backward poet writes inverse. 18. In a democracy it’s your vote that counts. In feudalism it’s your count that votes. 19. When cannibals ate a missionary, they got a taste of religion. 20. If you jumped off the bridge in Paris, you’d be in Seine. 21. A vulture boards an airplane, carrying two dead raccoons. The stewardess looks at him and says, ‘I’m sorry, sir, only one carrion allowed per passenger.’ 22. Two fish swim into a concrete wall. One turns to the other and says ‘Dam!’ 23. Two Eskimos sitting in a kayak were chilly, so they lit a fire in the craft. Unsurprisingly it sank, proving once again that you can’t have your kayak and heat it too. 24. Two hydrogen atoms meet. One says, ‘I’ve lost my electron.’ The other says ‘Are you sure?’ The first replies, ‘Yes, I’m positive.’ 25. Did you hear about the Buddhist who refused Novocain during a root canal? His goal: transcend dental medication. 26. There was the person who sent ten puns to friends, with the hope that at least one of the puns would make them laugh. No pun in ten did. 27. Pictures for this entertainment are from The Library of Congress. This is a repost..
One Man Heart Circle
This is a repost from 2015. It was a simpler time. … It is the first full day back in town, after the 2015 fall gathering. If you have to ask where I was, you don’t need to know. Today, the custom of the morning circle is brought back. This is where anyone, who wants to, can talk about the gathering.
Since this is the return to solitary city life, rather than in an improvised community, this will be a one man morning circle. I’m Luther, and my preferred pronoun is he. Pronouns are not a big deal to me. Since this is a one man circle, a singular pronoun is preferred. The concept of using they, as a non-binary alternative to he/she, is confusing and yucky.
Some things are so much easier in this life. One of the chores I assigned myself was clearing weeds off a stone staircase. One of the tools needed an adjustment. I spent a half hour trying to find a phillips head screwdriver. Just now, I needed a flat head screwdriver to pry open a zipper. I found one in less than a minute. City life has advantages.
I don’t pay much attention to omens. If I did, I may have left after the first day. I put my tent up to a group of people who played canned music on a device. I moved my tent, further down the yurt yard. When I was putting my tarp up, I saw a seven foot non poisonous snake. This reptile made another appearance a couple of mornings later, when I was returning from my morning piss. After that, I looked where I stepped. The sticks always seemed to be moving.
Very few people send postcards from gatherings. If they did this time, they would not say “the weather is beautiful wish you were here.” It rained every day, except for the last day. It drizzled. It thundered. It splattered. It dripped. It took away the sun. The paths turned into mud. Everything got wet. It was horrible. Yes, the rain did force people to stay indoors and talk to each other.
There were some wonderful moments. The Know Talent show was not planned at first, and then a wonderful man agreed to facilitate. I brought some poems. It was the first time I had read in public. I was one of the last people to perform, and was wondering if it would happen at all, or if anyone would be left to watch. Fortunately, I did not have to follow an amazing musical act. The act before me was, literally, falling down drunk. Performance art.
Somehow, things came together. Meals were served, and were usually fabulous. The dishes got washed. The costumes were a sight. You could overlook things like saturday morning. I was making my mandatory visit to the chapel. Someone said, could you hand me some toilet paper. Another voice said, there is none here either, and no box on the top shelf.
Sunday, the sun came out. I took down my tent, and got stung by a yellow jacket. I got a wheel barrow, and almost slipped in the mud. This was the last time I would walk through the yurt yard mud, hopefully for the rest of my life. I loaded the vehicle, and started up the driveway. Someone was walking in the driveway, I lost the momentum, and had to back up and try again. The second time I made it up the hill. The rest of the journey home was uneventful.
So what did I take away from the gathering? There were moments when I looked up to the sky and said thank you g-d for letting me do this. There were moments on a dance floor surrounded by spectacular human beings. There were also moments of being wet, cold, and totally miserable. I will probably want to do it again. Blessed be.
Mick Jagger
This is a repost from October 2012. It was a simpler time. Barry was about to be re-elected. Facebook was festive. There were problems in the world, but rock and roll was more fun than social justice jihad. … There was a book at the Chamblee Library, Mick: The Wild Life and Mad Genius of Jagger. The work is credited to a man named Christopher Anderson, who has a slew of best sellers to his credit. The copyright was issued to “Anderson Productions.”
When you write about Mickie, you have to post a few videos. One of the first to come up is “Waiting on a friend.” This was the first video that PG saw on MTV. One night in early 1982, PG rode his bike to an apartment on Buford Hiway. While he was there, someone said hey watch this, music television. The video was a favorite that first winter of MTV, even though it wasn’t really that good.
Mick Jagger has been a part of many lives the last fifty years. The stones were conceded to be number two to the beatles, but stayed together longer. The era of rock concert as megaevent coincided with the reinvention of the stones, after the demise of Brian Jones. He did after all start the band. Mr. Jones had become too much of a druggie to be relied on, and was fired. The book says that Mr. Jones was drowned, by a construction worker.
Ok, we are three paragraphs in, and we have not discussed Mr. Jagger’s pecker. Most of the book is about this instrument of undetermined size. The book says Mick stuffed a sock in his pants before shows. Mick has screwed thousands of women, and more than a few men. Whether Mick is a top, or a bottom, is left to the imagination.
The phrase “fuck Mick Jagger” is seminal. One night, the B52s were playing at a toilet on Ponce De Leon Avenue called the Big Dipper. The venue was later torn down, the ground decontaminated, and an animal clinic built on it’s site. After the show, one of the girls (either Kate or Cindy, or maybe neither, since this story is possibly probably an urban legend) was hanging out in the parking lot. “Beulah” was running his mouth, as he liked to do, talking about his hero Mick Jagger. Finally, the 52-girl had heard enough. “Fuck Mick Jagger, one day Mick Jagger will come see me me me.”
The book goes into excruciating detail about the stones story. Mick grew up middle class, and was close to his parents. He bit the end of his lip playing basketball, and sounded different. While going to the London School of Economics, he connected with Keith Richard, and found that they both liked Chuck Berry. The Glimmer Twins started to hang out together, and played a few gigs at a nightclub owned by Alexis Korner. (Mr. Korner opened for Humble Pie and Edgar Winter at the Atlanta Municipal Auditorium in 1972. He was ignored by the festive crowd.)
At this time, Mick had been introduced to sex by the other boys at his school. The first time with a woman was when Mick was an orderly at Bexley Mental Hospital. A nurse “yanked him into the linen closet where, surrounded by sheets, mops, and bedpans, Mick lost his virginity standing up”.
At some point Brian Jones came into the picture. Mick moved into a flat with Brian and Keith, and lived in picturesque squalor. At some point Mick and Brian bumped gooberheads, which left Mick confused. It is not known whether the lads could afford drugs at this point.
The story goes on and on. There are ugly moments, pretty moments, good songs written, lots of drugs, lots of sex. As Mick said in “Shattered,” “sex and sex and sex and sex and sex and sex and sex.” A few begin to wonder if he is capable of a one on one relationship, but those opinions don’t count.
One afternoon in 1978, PG was driving a truck in Decatur. He worked for a lady who did sampling projects, which means giving out samples to consumers. The product this time was Playtex Plus deodorant tampons. The truck was the rag wagon. There was an announcement on the last am rock and roll station in Atlanta. The stones were going to play the Fox Theater, and tickets were on sale now. The signal of the am station faded out at this point, with a gospel station preacher blocking out the rock and roll announcement. PG did not hear the location of the ticket sales. It turns out the tickets went on sale at the box office of the Municipal Auditorium, which was two blocks away from the rental facility of the rag wagon. Such is life.
In 1991, PG was walking to work and noticed an army of movie trucks. Mr. Jagger was appearing in a film, “Free Jack.” PG saw a scene filmed from his perch in the Healey Building, and stood behind a chair with the name “Mick Jagger” stenciled on. There were reports of a van rocking in Cabbagetown. On January 12, 1992, Georgia May Ayeesha Jagger was born.
Mick: The Wild Life and Mad Genius of Jagger is not a bad book. It is easy to read, and does not skimp on slime. The phrase “cringe inducing” is used several times, which may be the result of a focus group. It is not worth $27.00, or $29.99 Canadian. The publisher is Simon&Schuster. The dalliance between Mr. Jagger and Carly Simon is dutifully noted. Pictures are from The Library of Congress.
</Be Kind To Your Enemy
Did Jesus say to “Love your enemy”? Some believe this, and do it. Some claim to believe this, and practice the opposite. There are others who claim to love their enemies, but you have to understand what they mean by it. It can be very confusing. This is a repost.
PG went to a source for documentation. Oh, the blessed conjunction of copy paste with public domain. When PG entered enemy (singular) in the search engine, 100 verses came up. When the request was made plural (enemies), 237 entries popped up. The last mention of enemies is Revelation 11:12 “And they heard a great voice from heaven saying unto them, Come up hither. And they ascended up to heaven in a cloud; and their enemies beheld them.” Loving your enemies does not include bringing them to heaven with you. There is also the star of the show.
Matthew 5:44 “But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.”
There is scholarly debate about what Jesus did, or did not, say. The words available to modern man have been copied by hand, edited, translated, and interpreted. PG does not know Aramaic from Alabama. Like anyone else, PG can only read and listen, and think for himself.
In a sense it does not matter what Jesus “really” said. The cult of Jesus Worship is going to believe what it wants. More important, it is going to practice what it wants. As far as the difference between what Jesus “really” said, and what his believers say and do…they can explain.
What follows is a humble suggestion. Did the translators and scribes get it wrong? Maybe Jesus did not say to love your enemy. Maybe what Jesus said was to show kindness to everyone. This is a practice thing, rather than a belief thing.
It is not as much fun to be nice to someone, as it is to scream about life after death. Kindness does not need to be justified by a quote from a magic book. You just need to do it.
Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
The Cynic’s Word Book E – G
What follows are selections from The Devil’s Dictionary, by Ambrose Bierce. Many things could be said about Mr. Bierce. TDD began as a newspaper column, and was later published as The Cynic’s Word Book. TDD is a dictionary, going from A to Z. Today’s selection covers E – G. More selections are available. A – D Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. This is a repost.
EAT, v.i. To perform successively (and successfully)
the functions of mastication, humectation, and deglutition.
ECONOMY, n.
Purchasing barrel of whiskey that you do not need for price of cow that you cannot afford.
EDIBLE, adj. Good to eat, and wholesome to digest, as a worm to a toad,
a toad to a snake, a snake to a pig, a pig to a man, and a man to a worm.
EGOTIST, n. A person of low taste, more interested in himself than in me.
ELOQUENCE, n. The art of orally persuading fools that white is the color that it appears to be.
It includes the gift of making any color appear white.
EMOTION, n. A prostrating disease caused by a determination of the heart to the head.
It is sometimes accompanied by a copious discharge of hydrated chloride of sodium from the eyes.
EPICURE, n. An opponent of Epicurus, an abstemious philosopher who, holding that pleasure should be the chief aim of man, wasted no time in gratification from the senses.
EPITAPH, n. An inscription on a tomb, showing that virtues acquired by death
have a retroactive effect. Following is a touching example:
Here lie the bones of Parson Platt, Wise, pious, humble and all that,
Who showed us life as all should live it; Let that be said—and God forgive it!
ERUDITION, n. Dust shaken out of a book into an empty skull.
ETHNOLOGY, n. The science that treats of the various tribes of Man,
as robbers, thieves, swindlers, dunces, lunatics, idiots and ethnologists.
EULOGY, n. Praise of a person who has either the advantages of wealth and power,
or the consideration to be dead.
EVANGELIST, n. A bearer of good tidings, particularly (in a religious sense) such as assure us of our own salvation and the damnation of our neighbors.
EXCOMMUNICATION, n.
This “excommunication” is a word In speech ecclesiastical oft heard,
And means the damning, with bell, book and candle,
Some sinner whose opinions are a scandal—
A rite permitting Satan to enslave him Forever, and forbidding Christ to save him.
EXHORT, v.t. In religious affairs, to put the conscience of another upon the spit
and roast it to a nut-brown discomfort.
EXISTENCE, n.
A transient, horrible, fantastic dream, Wherein is nothing yet all things do seem:
From which we’re wakened by a friendly nudge Of our bedfellow Death, and cry:”O fudge!”
FASHION, n. A despot whom the wise ridicule and obey.
FEAST, n. A festival. A religious celebration usually signalized by gluttony and drunkenness, frequently in honor of some holy person distinguished for abstemiousness.
FIDDLE, n. An instrument to tickle human ears by friction of a horse’s tail on entrails of a cat.
FLOP, v. Suddenly to change one’s opinions and go over to another party.
The most notable flop on record was that of Saul of Tarsus,
who has been severely criticised as a turn-coat by some of our partisan journals.
FORK, n. An instrument used chiefly for the purpose of putting dead animals into the mouth. Formerly the knife was employed for this purpose, and by many worthy persons is still thought to have many advantages over the other tool, which, however, they do not altogether reject, but use to assist in charging the knife. The immunity of these persons from swift and awful death is one of the most striking proofs of God’s mercy to those that hate Him.
FRIENDLESS, adj. Having no favors to bestow. Destitute of fortune.
Addicted to utterance of truth and common sense.
FUNERAL, n.
A pageant whereby we attest our respect for the dead by enriching the undertaker,
and strengthen our grief by an expenditure that deepens our groans and doubles our tears.
GALLOWS, n. Whether on the gallows high Or where blood flows the reddest,
The noblest place for man to die— Is where he died the deadest.
GENTEEL, adj. Refined, after the fashion of a gent.
Observe with care, my son, the distinction I reveal: A gentleman is gentle and a gent genteel.
Heed not the definitions your “Unabridged” presents, For dictionary makers are generally gents.
GHOUL, n. A demon addicted to the reprehensible habit of devouring the dead. The existence of ghouls has been disputed by that class of controversialists who are more concerned to deprive the world of comforting beliefs than to give it anything good in their place.
GLUTTON, n. A person who escapes the evils of moderation by committing dyspepsia.
GOUT, n. A physician’s name for the rheumatism of a rich patient.
GRAVE, n. A place in which the dead are laid to await the coming of the medical student.
GUILLOTINE, n. A machine which makes a Frenchman shrug his shoulders with good reason.
Rainbows
Lately, I have been walking to the gym. It is about 1.4 miles one way. I go there, do my workout, and walk home. One consequence is not riding the stationary bike, and listening to podcasts. When it is a good story, this can be transformative. It is an magical escape from one place, into another.
Today, I chose to listen to a story while walking home. The story was Rainbows, by @JosephONeillx. It was one of the good ones. By the time I went through the railroad underpass off Peachtree Road, my pace had grown even more glacial than normal. I did not want to miss a single detail. It did help that I was off the busy main road, whose loud traffic drowned out the action.
Listening to a story, as opposed to reading it, is a different path for the information. The author’s voice telling the tale is a more intimate connection that reading dead tree text. In this story, the reading author is a man. I assumed the lead character, Clodagh, was also male. When a Aoife, the daughter, appeared, and a husband named Ian, I just thought this was just the trendy New Yorker. It wasn’t until much later in the story, that it dawned on me that Clodagh might be female. The gender is never confirmed one way, or the other.
The story is rather disturbing. (Spoiler to follow) Aoife is being sexually harassed at school, and files a complaint. The boy who gets metooed is the son of a laundry owner. Clodagh Nolastname is a VIP customer. (This all happens in New York. Clodagh is not poor.) The Chinese laundry lady tells Clodagh to take her business elsewhere. Clodagh is mortified that it was not handled family-to-family, but through the authorities.
I continue to walk through a glorious October afternoon. The election is in two weeks, and we will see what becomes of the anti-christ POTUS. The story ends when I get into the house, and I listen to the credits. Theme music is by North American Plastics, which somehow sounds as New Yorkeresque as not knowing whether mom is a man, or a woman. This is a repost.
Einstein, Facebook, God
“I love this … When Einstein gave lectures at U.S. universities, the recurring question that students asked him most was: Do you believe in God? And he always answered: I believe in the God of Spinoza. Baruch de Spinoza was a Dutch philosopher considered one of the great rationalists of 17th century philosophy, along with Descartes.
(Spinoza) : God would say: Stop praying. What I want you to do …” Today’s commodity wisdom goes on for 687 words. The bs detecter was buzzing. It was time to consult with Mr. Google.
“At home in Berlin in April 1929, Albert Einstein received an urgent telegram from Rabbi Herbert S. Goldstein of New York: “Do you believe in God? Stop. Answer paid 50 words.” Boston Archbishop William Henry Cardinal O’Connell had derided Einstein’s famous relativity theories as “befogged speculation” conjuring “the ghastly apparition of Atheism.” An alarmed Goldstein sought to douse these rhetorical flames with reassurance from the great man himself.
“Einstein wired back “I believe in Spinoza’s God, Who reveals Himself in the lawful harmony of the world, not in a God Who concerns Himself with the fate and the doings of mankind.” (“Ich glaube an Spinozas Gott der sich in gesetzlicher Harmonie des Seienden offenbart, nicht an Gott der Sich mit Schicksalen und Handlungen der Menschen abgibt.”) The rabbi might have saved himself a little money; in the end, Einstein’s reply in the original German used only 25 words.”
“Einstein often saved ink by referring this way—a sort of philisophical shorthand—to Benedict (Baruch) de Spinoza, the 17th-century philosopher and scientist excommunicated from Amsterdam’s Sephardic Jewish community for his beliefs. … Spinoza did in fact “remain alone” for most of his life. Raised in an Amsterdam enclave of Marranos—Jews converted under the inquisitions of Spain and Portugal who had returned to Hebrew tradition in the Netherlands—Spinoza was considered a stellar pupil by his rabbis. When he began questioning the idea of a biblical God, however, they expelled him from the sect. Rather than convert to Christianity, he defied convention by living without organized religion. He never married and supported his life of scientific and philosophical inquiry through solitary work in a “high-tech” industry of his day, lens grinding.”
The key word in the question, “do you believe in God”, is believe. Whether you say G0d, Allah, Nature, or Football, there seems to be a consensus that something exists. Is belief the best way to approach this issue? What are the middle three letters of believe?
FWIW, Dr. Einstein pondered the God question from time to time. While video of Dr. Einstein does exist, there is little way of knowing whether students asked him about God, at every lecture.
The facebook wisdom-fest does not offer a source, for Spinoza’s ideas about Mary’s babydaddy. PG is not a Spinoza scholar, and quit reading the facebook post after a few sentences. He did look at a wikipedia page, and a document from Stanford University. A search was done for the phrase “God would say: Stop praying.” The terms “stop” and “pray” do not appear in either source.
God is in the details. Instead of “do you believe in God”, the question could be “do you believe in a facebook meme?” Pictures are from The Library of Congress. This is a repost.
Mansplain
There was a link on facebook to a rather wonky article, Mansplaining 101: How to Discuss Politics and Feminism Without Acting Like a Jackass. The concept is that men sometimes do not show women adequate respect when talking to them. The Urban Dictionary has entries for both mansplain and womansplain. Neither entry is complimentary. This is a repost. Many of the links no longer work. The pictures are more entertaining.
The policymic feature is a few months old, and apparently was the scene of a lively comment debate. Unfortunately, Some people flagged a bunch of the comments. Little is left. This is the top comment: “Feminism doesn’t need to make room for men, men need to make room for feminist ideas in their spaces.” In one sentence you managed to discredit your entire argument. Who wants to argue with someone who thinks any opinion from the opposite sex isn’t worthwhile? “
When you google mansplain you are referred to a tumblr, Academic Men Explain Things to Me. This is supposed to be an authority on mansplaining. As this post is written, the top three posts are a boss who mispronounces a name, a grandfather who tells girls how to shave their legs, and an eavesdropping customer who tells a woman how to get to sleep better. This is not especially helpful.
Blank splaining seems to be a versatile label. It seems to be a way of attacking the messenger, instead of dealing with the content of the comment. It is true that the tone of comments can be troublesome. People often come across as condescending, especially when they are. It just seems to this observer that little is gained by putting a label, like mansplaining, on this phenomenon.
PG has been in many discussions where he was spoken down to. Jesus worshipers are notorious for not respecting people who don’t agree with their ideas about religion. There is also the possibility that people use this attitude of superiority as a weapon to cover up uncertainties about their position. Human beings are funny animals. We are not always the fair, logical creatures we think we are.
Another label to be put in front of splaining is white. The urban dictionary says this about whitesplain: “The act of a caucasian person explaining to audiences of color the true nature of racism; a caucasian person explaining sociopolitical events and/or history to audiences of color as though they are ignorant children.” Contrast this to the word on blacksplain: “Explaining things pertaining to African American history and culture, to someone who is racist or racially ignorant.” The white person is always wrong in this scenario. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
25 Things About Georgia
These daze, there is more media than messages. People need things to write about. One popular theme, at least in itp/otp, is lists about life in Georgia. A web facility that should know better, thought catalog, recently put out 25 Things You Need To Know About Georgia.
25TYNTKAG was written by Jeremy Populus Jones. He seems to be the CEO of something called GAFollowers. (@GAFollowers on twitter) From the fine print: “GAFollowers was created on a “strength in numbers” foundation, finding a creative way to use free online social networking sites to strengthen the “bond” between people in Georgia to help better form this state. … GAFollowers is one of the largest twitter accounts in the state of Georgia that spans nearly every corner of the region.”
These lists about Georgia life usually have a few common comments. There is the heat, the bugs, the traffic, the multiple Peachtrees, and southern accents. They seldom mention the shameless corruption, religious mental illness, rampant obesity, or racial pandemonium. Lets take a look at 25TYNTKAG. Mr. Jones will be in blue, and Chamblee54 in green. This is a repost, with pictures from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.
1. The weather here is just as inconsistent as your ex-girlfriend. Not really. It gets cold in January, hot in July. Your ex-girlfriend is staying out of this.
2. We call all interstates in Georgia, “The Highway”. Most people use the number.
3. Only in Atlanta is everything named “Peachtree” without a single tree with peaches around. Peachtree is all over OTP.
4. Terio and Honey Boo Boo were born and raised here. You couldn’t do this without google. Terio is a chubby kid who dances. Sometimes ignorance is bliss.
5. “Knuck if you Buck” is the song we will always get hype to no matter the age. Yuck.
6. White girls wear Nike shorts with big t-shirts covering their shorts. (How many can you spot?) Maybe there was a sale on big t-shirts at Walmart.
7. Zaxbys is what you eat. The TC comments said this is not accurate. They mentioned a certain spelling challenged company, that specializes in overpriced chicken sandwiches. At least the son of Mr. Zaxby doesn’t run off potential customers with his big mouth.
8. We call it a “rag” not a “washcloth”. Do people up north say a woman is on the washcloth?
9. Going outside at anytime during the summer instantly guarantees a minimum a 7 bug bites. This is mostly true. Who is counting?
10. In Georgia when someone ask, “Where you from?”, people usually reply with a county not a city. In Atlanta, when you say “Where are you from?” it is almost always somewhere outside of Georgia.
11. The speed limit is 65 mph but if you’re not going at least 80 mph you’ll be ran off the road. This is also true on surface roads. In hilly Atlanta, there are few places to pass on two lane roads.
12. In Georgia it’s not a shopping cart, it’s a buggy. Do people really say shopping cart? At Kroger it is a bascart. The stores have a bascart corral.
13. We get more inches of pollen in a week than inches of snow in a full year. Pollen season hits in early spring. It is rough for many people. The rest of the year gets relatively little pollen. There is a good ice/snow storm every ten years or so. This one is probably true.
14. You say Georgia, we say Jawja. Others say George-ah. To untrained ears they sound the same.
15. Sweet tea is our water. Very few people wash cars with sweet tea.
16. The night has been a success if you ended up at Waffle House. This is especially true if you are scattered, smothered, and covered.
17. In Georgia it’s necessary to look at the weather before picking out an outfit. A reason not to do numbered lists. Just think of what you have to say, write it down, and hope it is not copyrighted.
18. We pray that we get snow during the winters. The people who pray for winter storms are merchants. They have an inventory of batteries, milk, ice, and eggs to sell.
19. We are the creators of, “Turn Up”. You can’t squeeze blood from a turnip.
20. Here in Georgia white girls can twerk. No Miley Cyrus. Ditto reaction to number 17. What was PG thinking of when he decided to do this post?
21. You will usually be 30 minutes away from just about every destination that you’re heading to. 22. There’s a Waffle House in walking distance of every Waffle House. These two have been combined, for obvious reasons. Do people proofread these lists before sending them out?
23. Any dark soda is simply called “Coke”. Many say Cocola, without the second syllable.
24. We pronounce it “Atlanna”. Whatever. Sometimes the second t is audible, sometimes not. It definitely is not the ATL, except to radio shouters.
25. Braves, Falcons & UGA are the teams we really care about. Tech fans may disagree. Ditto taxpayers, who don’t care if Rankin Blank gets a new stadium.
Shoes
“Before you judge someone, walk a mile in their shoes. Then, who cares? They’re a mile away and you have their shoes.” This item turned up on my facebook feed recently. “Walk a mile …” is a metaphor. You should consider a person’s life experience before judging them. Nobody expects you to actually put your foot in their sneakers. If you do, please make sure your feet are clean.
Recently, I got to walk a 200 yards in someone else’s shoes. There was at an event, where people took their shoes off. When getting ready to leave, I saw a pair of basic black jogging shoes. I put them on, and they fit. I walked to my cabin, and went to sleep.
The next morning, I put these shoes on, and went to the dining hall. A man, who I will call Tom, told me that I had his shoes on. I looked under the table, and did not see the under armor logo on my feet. Tom said we could go to his vehicle after breakfast, and get my shoes.
What did I learn about Tom by walking 200 yards in his shoes? He wears the same size shoe as I, and his feet don’t stink. He handles a potentially embarrassing situation with kindness and tact. If I had to judge Tom, after walking 200 yards in his shoes, I would say that he is a cool dude. Pictures for this size twelve morning are from The Library of Congress.
The Scarlet R
This is a repost from 2016, with horrible sound. … Bloggingheads.tv released a chat with Glenn Loury and John McWhorter. With election days 35 days away, there was lots of talk about Donald and Hillary. It only took 1:44, to learn what is expected. The assignment is to call DJT a racist, and lament what a terrible thing that is. This is political discourse in 2016.
At 3:28, there was an aha moment. The line was that DJT, instead of an orange haired ogre, was really just a seventh grade bully. When PG was in seventh grade, there was a mean person who gave him problems. This individual is now a facebook friend, and regularly posts memes supporting DJT. PG likes to know what the “other side” thinks. Ignoring the memes is always an option.
At 9:22, the importance of identifying racism in others is stressed. This is said to totally justify the appeal of DJT. Once you call someone a racist, you no longer have to work to understand their motives. When the scarlet R is super glued to somebody, that is all you need to know.
The Scarlet Letter is the rip roaring tale of Hester Prynne. She got caught fooling around, and had the scarlet A, for adultery, pinned to her chest. It was pinned to her chest, and she could see who did the pinning. In today’s “woke” world, the scarlet R, for racist, is super glued to the back of the terrible person. The person never knows who gave them this dreaded, irrevocable, label.
At 21:28, John tells an amusing story. He was talking to a well meaning white woman, said to be helpful in selling more books. At some point, the woman felt obligated to say that “we don’t like to talk about race.” John was too polite to laugh in her face.
The truth is that talking about race is the new national pastime. Does anyone listen? In all that talk, is anything worthwhile said? These questions are considered rude, and probably racist.
At 31:09, John said the n word. It is not known whether it ended with -er, or with -a. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.
Chamblee54 
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