Nontroversy
When you think of a new word, and it is rather obvious, the odds are that someone else has thought of it. With the supply of media outpacing the inventory of messages, it is no wonder that some things are blown up out of proportion. The outcry over the Cheerios commercial is one recent example. The commenters at Youtube are not the arbiters of American thought. Even the ones employed by General Mills to spike cereal sales.
So PG began to ponder the word nontroversy, obviously derived from controversy. It only generates 24k results at google, which means it is almost an original thought. Word spy and urban dictionary have it listed. There is a twitter hashtag, #nontroversy. Most of the tweets use the word controversy.
There was a story in Coeur d’Alene ID. “Councilman Mike Kennedy thought he’d struck gold Thursday when he conjured the word “nontroversy.” According to Mike’s definition, “nontroversy” means roughly “a ginned up scandal, controversy or otherwise politically inspired nonsense by some political partisan (from either side).” In jest, Mike was busy on his Facebook wall calling for a lawyer to help him copyright the word when a buzz-killer noted that “nontroversy” was already defined in the “Urban Dictionary. Approximate same definition.”
Since the opposite of con is pro, a search for protroversy. This is not the same as the movie Promtroversy. This word only has 87 results on google. It is also tough to say out loud.
The best result is from Arguments Anonymous. “Harry, I once created a great deal of controversy. Or was that PROtroversy? I know that the pro’s are better at it than the cons, but of course, pro’s have not yet been busted and cons have been incarcerated. Or, did I lose the subject? I mean, a verb and a predicate make a sentence, and a con gets to serve it!”
Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives,Georgia State University Library”.
Thanks Debbie Downer
A few days ago, there was a comment on facebook. PG felt a comment coming on. There is a document on his desktop for emergencies like this. This is what was finally posted. – “I have gotten into the habit of typing comments in a word document, editing, and then deciding whether or not to post. Often, once I get it out of my system, I choose to not post it. I can always compile these old comments into a blog post which will confuse everybody”. ~ There are no pressing issues to discuss today. A little girl pouring cereal on daddy in a commercial just doesn’t do it. This seems like a good day to recycle the emergency document. We can start with the second part of the comment above. When you pre-write comments, you can leave out parts that will offend. ~ 2- I have seen some threads with so called liberal, enlightened people. Some of these threads are just as ignorant and judgmental as the Fox news crowd. ~ As Ann Althouse might say, “I’m an idiot I’m a drunkard “ ~ Pontius Pilate likes this.
In the post, the word attitudes was used. In the fb response, the word beliefs was used. When I tried to find more information about this, the word values came up. This formed a three word group… attitude, belief, values. Later, I mentioned that if someone was going to label someone else a racist, then they should educate themself about contemporary race thinking. This led to a comment about false equivilency. ~ Maybe a moratorium on the r word is needed. It has been defined to the point where it no longer has a meanning. ~ “The absurd is sin without God.” — Albert Camus ~ Comments are filtered for language and registration is required. The Times makes no guarantee of comments’ factual accuracy. Readers may report inappropriate comments by clicking the Report Abuse link next to a comment. Here are the full legal terms you agree to by using this comment form. ~ What about “the regular marginalization, threats, and violence that occur against” ALL PEOPLE?
Saying that condoms are “only” 80% effective is problematic. Do you have a link for that? That is a study I would like to read the fine print on. A problem with saying something like that is when people hear it, they decide a condom is not worth the effort. A condom that is not used is 100% ineffective. ~ Fox should change it’ s name to Wolf, like the one the little boy cried about. They have done so much negative squealing about BHO that many do not believe them. When a serious screw up like Benghazi took place, many thought it was just more hot air from the conservatives. ~ Any U.S. tax advice contained in the body of this e-mail was not intended or written to be used, and cannot be used, by the recipient for the purpose of avoiding penalties that may be imposed under the Internal Revenue Code or applicable state or local tax law provisions. ~ Sometimes when I’m in a bad mood I get on dating websites and apps and point out their problematic language to them. It never goes well.
some bedsprings were squeaking in denver to make another puker ~ “A non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity.” ― Franz Kafka ~ This comment was removed by a moderator because it didn’t abide by our community standards. Replies may also be deleted. For more detail see our FAQs. ~ neil and bob were walking in the park. they saw a dog licking his balls. neil said I wish i could do that. bob said why don’t you pet him first. ~ Liberal and conservative are meaningless labels. This is true with capital letters or small letters. The use of these words as insults says more about the talker than the object of derision. The same goes for terrorist. Hypocrisy is in the eye of the beholder. ~ 1- When you have a quote like this thirty seven seconds in, you know it is going to be fun. 2- Dan Savage has a good story about a man and his horse. There was a man in Kentucky, the KY state, that had sex with his horse. At the end of the interview, Mr. Savage asked the KY man the gender of the horse. The man said it was a female horse. He was offended that Mr. Savage would think that he was homosexual, by carrying on with a male horse. ~ I am patient with stupidity, but not with those who are proud of it. – Dame Judith Sitwell
After not heeding the teacher’s warning for excessive talking, Jung Li learned the hard way to obey authority. ~ I went to get my drivers license renewed once. There was a sign in the office. At the time, the State of Georgia had a program to encourage the “drug free workplace”. The sign said to contact the state, and we will help get your employees off drugs. The phrase they used was “get you up to speed”. ~ pg to uzi you can see more scenery at the park without listening to my comments uzi to pg you assume that i am listening ~ “The smallest bookstore still contains more ideas of worth than have been presented in the entire history of television.” — Andrew Ross ~ If someone “defriends” you because of a facebook post, then that person was probably not your friend. ~ This comment has been removed for violation of the visitor agreement. ~ There was this great idea for a visual display. A cool way to present the words. The only problem was the creator. He didn’t have anything to say.
Free Wood Post is a news and political satire web publication, which may or may not use real names, often in semi-real or mostly fictitious ways. All news articles contained within FreeWoodPost.com are fiction, and presumably fake news.Any resemblance to the truth is purely coincidental, except for all references to politicians and/or celebrities, in which case they are based on real people, but still based almost entirely in fiction. FreeWoodPost.com is intended for a mature, sophisticated, and discerning audience. ~ That is how the internet goes. I have written things that I thought was important, and they were ignored. Write some silly stuff, and you get attention. I don’t know what to make of it. but I am not going to give up. Regarding the HRC… I have heard criticism for a long time, but have seen little substantial evidence. I have seen some discussions about HRC, and the equal sign, that got very ugly. That sort of toxicity does nobody any good.
as much fun as this little titter tat has been let me close it out by saying we are completely incompattible in every way imaginable, but I wish you the very best of luck. ~ Tom Clancy sold insurance before he wrote books. “I never do life insurance. It is too morbid. I do fire and casualty” ~ Ann Althouse on guns and suicide. ~ When we were preparing to invade Iraq, there was a tax cut passed, with the support of both parties. This one act shows the divide between rhetoric and reality on a number of levels. People who claim to be pro life wanted to go kill women and children eight time zones away. People who claim to support smaller government wanted to send 200k troops eight time zones away, to kill women and children. People who claim to want fiscal responsibility voted for a tax cut, before sending 200k troops eight time zones away to kill women and children. ~ I fear the day that technology will surpass our human interaction. The world will have a generation of idiots Albert Einstein Luther Mckinnon I suspect that Dr. Einstein did not say that. Wikiquotes does not have this quote. Whenever you see a quote without a source, you should suspect it. Also, what is the context? If a comment is true, it does not need a famous name at the end. Carrie Williams Thanks Debbie Downer
Joker Guarantee If there is any defect in this pack we shall be glad to replace it. Return it unused to The United States Playing Card Company Cincinnati, Ohio 45212 ~ @tejucole I learn more about privilege from what I get wrong about misogyny than from what I get right about racism. ~ An individual may contribute up to $2,600 for the primary election and $2,600 for the general election. Contributions are limited by federal law. Contributions are not tax deductible as charitable contributions. Federal law requires us to use our best efforts to report the name, mailing address, occupation, and name of employer of individuals whose contributions exceed $200 during an election cycle. Federal law prohibits contributions from a corporation, labor organization, or national bank. Federal law also prohibits contributions made in the name of another, from federal government contractors, or from foreign nationals. ~ And so my advice to all young people who wish to become poets is: do something easy, like learning how to blow up the world- e e cummings
A chilling comment. ~ Aaron Coady is a barroom performer who can’t hold his liquor. This is probably what happened when he wrote that autograph. ~ Ke$ha had to break up with her bf. They went to dinner, and he ordered the GMO special. He explained that Madonna’s felching diet needs his help. Ke$ha was offended that the bf was cheating on her with a Catholic billionaire. Madonna is going be whipping, and eating out of, his ass until 2014, when Obamacare can rescue him. ~ I you like me, then I am probably going to like you. If you don’t like me, then I probably will not like you. That covers a lot of human interaction. ~ Selah
Midtown
The neighborhood along Peachtree Road has always been a great place to be a freak. For a long time it didn’t have a name. It is north of downtown, between Piedmont Park and Georgia Tech. Sometime in the early eighties, people started to call it Midtown, and the name stuck.
In the time after the War Between the States, this area was a shantytown called “Tight Squeeze”. It evolved into a pleasant middle class area. In the sixties, hippies took over. The area was known as the strip, or tight squeeze. Many stories could be told.
After the flower children moved on, the area went into decline. Gays started to move in, with the battle cry “Give us our rights or we will remodel your house”. Developers, worshiping the triune G-d of location, location, location, began to smell money. The neighborhood became trendy, then expensive, then more expensive. The freaks with money remain. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives,Georgia State University Library”.
Golden Rectangle
PG is not a math freak. However, he does appreciate the Fibonacci sequence, and the golden rectangle. Recently a picture project utilized these numbers. (2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21)
The medium is faux stained glass. To get the colors, sticker paper is applied to a film base. There is an one eighth inch overlap between the sections. This overlap serves the same purpose as solder in stained glass. The images are designed on a grid. Each block is half an inch square, with one eight inch overlap on all sides. In the design phase, a half size model is used.
The design is a grid of rectangles and squares. The Fibonacci sequence of numbers is used. Horizontally, the 5 rows are 3 tiles wide, 5 tiles wide, 8 tiles wide, 13 tiles wide, and 21 tiles wide. Vertically, the rows are 2 tiles wide, 3 tiles wide, 5 tiles wide, 8 tiles wide, and 13 tiles wide. The totals are 50 tiles wide, and 31 tiles tall. This is close to the 1.61:1 ratio of the golden rectangle.
The final product is 18.875″ x 11.75″. It is centered on a format sheet 22″ x 17″, the standard size for these projects. The picture was designed, and the models built, at half size. The models were 9.4375″ x 5 .875″. (These dimensions are typically described using fractions. PG has a scale with the dimensions on it. The decimal numbers are easier to use in this text.)
The models are built using scrap from previous projects. The colors are assembled in the required shapes, and changed until the best arrangement is found. Normally, the biggest size building block is 3×4, or .625″ x .8125″. Since some large spaces were going to be filled in, PG decided to put tick marks on the design, to show where the individual tiles would go. This made for a model with a very neat appearance, which PG found appealing. A decision was made to break the shapes down into the smaller units. This would create a rhythm within the picture.
At first, the smaller tiles were arranged portrait style, that is they had the four tile side standing vertical. One night, PG realized that the picture was flowing horizontally, and that the smaller tiles needed to be portrait style, with the three tile side as the vertical side. The next move was to change the 3×4 tile to a 3×5 tile, which is a Fibonacci sequence of numbers.
There were now 3 dimensions in this model: 2 tiles (.4375″), 3 tiles (.625″) and 5 tiles (1.0″). There are four sizes of tiles: 2 x 3, 2 x 5, 3 x 3, and 3 x 5. There is a pattern. They start in the top left corner with small numbers, and work down into the large numbers at the bottom right. The bottom right has 5 rows of tiles by 5 rows of tiles, just like the overall picture.
As the model began to progress, a decision was made to do some sections as a green-blue checkerboard. This alternates with red and yellow sections. A decision was made to do the red and yellow sections as one solid tile in the final product, and keep the grid pattern in the green-blue sections.
Grayscale pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives,Georgia State University Library”. The other two are a photograph of the final product, 345 fibnuchi, and a sample of the design grid.
101 Ways To Say Death Part One
In 2008, a blogger started a series, 101 Ways to Say “Died”. It focused on epitaphs from New England cemeteries. Most of the headstones used were carved before 1825. The series has gone past 101, and is up to 118 now. If you look at the site, you see links to the individual parts. That is the number before the epitaph. Some have been skipped. The VPI site has photographs of many of the headstones used here. HT to Twenty Two Words. Pictures by Chamblee54.
4 HERE LYES BURIED ye BODY OF THAT FAITHFULL SERUANT OF JESUS CHRIST ye REUEREND MR MICHAEL WIGGLESWORTH PASTOUR OF ye CHURCH OF CHRIST AT MAULDEN YEARS WHO FINNISHED HIS WORK AND ENTRED APON AN ETERNAL SABBATH OF REST ON ye LORDS DAY, IUNE ye 10th 1705 IN ye 74th YEAR OF HIS AGE HERE LIES INTERD IN SILENT GRAUE BELOW MAULDENS PHYSICIAN FOR SOUL AND BODY TWO
5 Here rest The remains of Samuel Kelton who in the midst of his usefulness and activity with the fairest hopes & most sanguine prospects fell a victim to an untimely disease on the 31 of July 1805 AEt. 40
7 Erected In Memory of CAPT. THOMAS STETSON who was killed by the fall of a tree Nov. 28, 1820, AEt. 68. Nearly 30 years he was master of a vessel and left that employment at the age of 48 for the less hazardous one of cultivating his farm. Reader, remember that man is never secure from the arrest of Death. “Watch ye therefore for the son of man cometh in an hour when ye look not for him.”
8 NANCY. left us Feb. 19, 1858, I am happy.
12 HERE LYES THE BODY OF DEACON JOHN STONE WHOSE LIFE WAS MUCH DESIRED & WHOSE DEATH IS MUCH LAMENTED AGED ABOUT 55 YEARS HE WENT REJOYCING OUT OF THIS WORLD IN- TO THE OTHER THE 26 DAY OF MARCH 1691
13 MARTHA JUE WIFE TO MIELES JUE AGED 77 YRS DYED IN Ye FAITH IN PATIENCE MEEK LOUING SUBMITING HER SELF TO Ye WILL OF GOD
IN LIFE OR DEATH Ye 15 OF SEPTEMBER 1683
14 In Memory of PETER COOLLIDGE Son of Mr. DAVID & Mrs. DOROTHY COOLLIDG who fell asleep Oct. 30th 1784 in ye 15th Year of his Age.
Within this Grave here one doth lie who saw God’s glory & did die.
15 Sacred to the MEMORY of Mr. William Goger who changed a fleeting World for an immortal rest the __ of March A.D. 1771 In the 33d Year of his Age.
16 In MEMORY of the well beloved Mr. Richard Lyman who after he had served God & his generation many years in this Life by the will of God fell asleep in the Cradle of Death on the 3d day of June AD 1746 in the 67th year of his age.
17 Here lies ye Body of that Graciou [sic] Saint of Christ Mrs. Elizebth Huntington Wife to Capt. Thomas Huntington Esqr. & after She had liued Apios life fell Aslep in jesus Decembr 29 1729 Ageed 59 yr
18 In Memory of a Daughter (of the Rev. Mr. John Payson and Mrs. Anna his wife,)
who was still born Augt. 16th 1775.
19 HERE LIES THE BODY OF THEODORE PARSONS AN INFANT SON OF THEOPHILUS PARSONS, ESQR. AND MRS. ELISABETH PARSONS. HE ENTERED THE THEATRE OF LIFE AUGUST XIITH MDCCLXXXVI, AND INNOCENTLY RETIRED FROM IT FEBRUARY XVIII MDCCLXXXVII.
20 HERE LYES INTERRED ye BODY OF JOHN SON TO JOHN & MARY EMERSON MINISTER OF ye GOSPEL AT PORTSMOUTH AGED ABOUT 2 MONTHS WHO EXPIRED JAN ye 7TH 1713 Psalm ye 90: vrs ye 6th In the morning it flourisheth & groweth up in the evenig it is cut down & withereth.
21 Sacred to the memory of CAPT. JOSEPH MELCHER youngest son of MR. JOSEPH & MRS MARY MELCHER of Brunswick who perished in a storm Nov. 7th 1802 on Ipswich Bar In the 21st year of his age. Amidst the raging billows drove, My life to save in vain I strove; And soon my strength began to flee, I perish’d in the Cruel sea. My weeping friends, your silence keep, When to my Grave you come to weep; Prepare to follow me you must And mingle with your native dust.
22 In Memory of MRS. MEHETABEL TREADWELL, the amiable consort & for a few fleeting years the kind & prudent partner the pleasing & consoling companion of the HON. JOHN TREADWELL ESQr. she departed from this in hope of a better life July 2, 1786 AEt. 44 The fashion of this world passeth away. Set your affections on things above not on things on the earth.
23 Sacred To the memory of DANIEL PUTNAM TYLER Son of DANIEL TYLER Junr, And MEHITABEL his wife Who having gone thro’ His Collegiate Studies And qualify’d himself For the Profession of the LAW on the 18th of Janr, AD. 1798 Was summon’d to appear Before his JUDGE AEtatis 21 In life’s and nature’s freshest bloom Death came remorseless on and sunk him in the tomb.
24 In Memory of 2 Infants, sons of Mr. Daniel & Mrs. Lydia C—— they was born March 17th 1791 one liv’d about 2 hours the other about 24 Sleep on my babes and take your rest,
God call’d you home he saw it best.
25 OMINEM crede Diem tibi diluxisse supremum Sacred to the Memory of the pious Mrs. ANNA BARNARD The worthy & examplary Consort of the late Venerable REVERAND JOHN BARNARD, Who for many years was the faithful Pastor of the first Church of Christ, in Marblehead. In all the Virtues of a Life of Faith and Holiness, She shone below, respected and belov’d; Until matur’d for higher Spheres. She set to Earth, rever’d & lamented; But rose upon the Horizon of perfect endless day on the 24th of August 1774: AEt. 78. The holy Triumph of her soul, Did Death itself out-brave. Left dull mortality behind And flew beyond the Grave.
28 Mr. JASON RUSSELL was barbarously murdered in his own House by GAGES bloody Troops on ye 19 of April 1775 AEtats. 59. His body is quietly resting in this Grave with Eleven of our friends who in Like manner with many others were cruelly Slain on that fatal day. Blessed are ye dead who die in ye Lord. ~ ~ Here lies ye Body of the Widow LYDIA DYAR of BOSTON; the Place of her Nativity where She left a good Estate & came into ye Country May 22d. 1775 to escape ye abuce of ye Ministerial Troops sent by GEORGE ye 3d to subject North-America to Slavery. She died July 28th 1776, Aged 80 Years. The sweet Remembrance of the Just shall flourish when they Sleep in dust. ~ ~ Here lies the Body of Mrs. REBECCA WHITE Widow of Mr. ISAAC WHITE late of Boston. When the British Troops took possession of the Town of Boston, she went to her Son JOHN WHITE Esq. of Charlestown and continued in his Family ’til She died at Billerica, Sept. 13th 1782 Aged 94 Years. ~ ~ Here lies buried the Body of Miss Faith Durant Who was driven by the hand of tyranny from BOSTON the place of her Nativity She departed this life Octr. 7th Anno 1775 Aged 56 Years.
30 In memory of CHARLES A. FROST. son of Jonathan & Sibil Frost
who was killed by a waggon Sept. 11, 1837
Fascism Test
After World War II, people wondered why so many other people agreed with the fascist dictators. Some “research” was done, and a book came out, The Authoritarian Personality (Studies in Prejudice). It was influential at the time, but is somewhat discredited today. The concept is that some people are more authoritarian than others. This mindset is also known as dogmatism and facsism.
A test was devised to determine a person’s tendency to authoritarianism. The most popular version on google is at the Anesi website. It is named for Chuck Anesi, who apparently is the blog perpetrator. He focuses on fascism, and has a helpful companion page, What is Fascism? Seventy years after the Third Reich, fascist has become a meaningless insult. Terms like Islamo-fascist are tossed around, without much thought as to whether or not they make sense.
The F scale test here is 30 statements. You choose from six answers to each. They are 1-Disagree Strongly, 2-Disagree Mostly, 3-Disagree Somewhat, 4-,Agree Somewhat, 5-Agree Mostly, 6-Agree Strongly. The more that you agree, the more fascist you are.
When PG took the test, his score was 2.6. This means “you are a liberal airhead”. The other possible scores were: Less than 2 – A whining rotter. 2 to 3 – A liberal airhead. 3 to 4.5 – Within normal limits; an appropriate score for an American. 4.5 to 5.5 – You may want to practice doing things with your left hand. 5.5 or higher – Have trouble keeping the lint off your black shirts?
Here are the thirty statements: [1] Obedience and respect for authority are the most important virtues children should learn.[2] A person who has bad manners, habits, and breeding can hardly expect to get along with decent people. [3] If people would talk less and work more, everybody would be better off. [4] The business man and the manufacturer are much more important to society than the artist and the professor. [5] Science has its place, but there are many important things that can never be understood by the human mind. [6] Every person should have complete faith in some supernatural power whose decisions he obeys without question. [7] Young people sometimes get rebellious ideas, but as they grow up they ought to get over them and settle down. [8] What this country needs most, more than laws and political programs, is a few courageous, tireless, devoted leaders in whom the people can put their faith. [9] No sane, normal, decent person could ever think of hurting a close friend or relative. [10] Nobody ever learned anything really important except through suffering. [11] What the youth needs most is strict discipline, rugged determination, and the will to work and fight for family and country. [12] An insult to our honor should always be punished. [13] Sex crimes, such as rape and attacks on children, deserve more than mere imprisonment; such criminals ought to be publicly whipped, or worse. [14] There is hardly anything lower than a person who does not feel a great love, gratitude, and respect for his parents. [15] Most of our social problems would be solved if we could somehow get rid of the immoral, crooked, and feebleminded people. [16] Homosexuals are hardly better than criminals and ought to be severely punished. [17] When a person has a problem or worry, it is best for him not to think about it, but to keep busy with more cheerful things. [18] Nowadays more and more people are prying into matters that should remain personal and private. [19] Some people are born with an urge to jump from high places. [20] People can be divided into two distinct classes: the weak and the strong. [21] Some day it will probably be shown that astrology can explain a lot of things. [22] Wars and social troubles may someday be ended by an earthquake or flood that will destroy the whole world. [23] No weakness or difficulty can hold us back if we have enough will power. [24] It is best to use some prewar authorities in Germany to keep order and prevent chaos. [25] Most people don’t realize how much our lives are controlled by plots hatched in secret places. [26] Human nature being what it is, there will always be war and conflict. [27] Familiarity breeds contempt. [28] Nowadays when so many different kinds of people move around and mix together so much, a person has to protect himself especially carefully against catching an infection or disease from them. [29] The wild sex life of the old Greeks and Romans was tame compared to some of the goings-on in this country, even in places where people might least expect it. [30] The true American way of life is disappearing so fast that force may be necessary to preserve it. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives,Georgia State University Library”. HT to Backstory Radio. This is written like Mario Puzo.
Heather Has A Mommy And A Daddy
Heather Has a Mommy and a Daddy
Deep in the heart of Dullsville, at the end of a cul-de-sac, behind a lawn of scratchy brown grass dotted with giant plastic butterflies, three flaking cement deer, and a philodendron the size of Bob Hoskins though with fewer decorative parts, lives Heather Thompson. Heather has a mommy and a daddy. Heather’s daddy is an accountant. Her mommy is a homemaker. Before Heather was born they met, fell in love, and got married. “I love you very much and I’m having your child,” Heather’s mom said.
Danitra is Heather’s best friend. One of Danitra’s dads is an empowerment facilitator. The other is an aura consultant. Danitra doesn’t know what they do at work, except they don’t need briefcases. Before Danitra was born her daddies met and fell in love, and after seventeen years spent discussing caring and support, handling acceptance, and negotiating intimacy, they had a commitment ceremony. “I love you very much and I’m designing the rings,” Danitra’s Daddy Mike said.
One day in school Heather’s teacher, Mrs. Weinberg-Lopez, tells the class to draw pictures of their families. Danitra draws two men, Julio draws two women, and Heather draws a man and a woman. Keanu points at the woman Heather drew, with squiggly yellow hair, a crude red dress and simple brown shoes. “This dad here’s got some ugly drag going on,” he says.
At lunchtime Danitra sits on the bench next to Heather and pulls a sandwich out of a brown paper bag.“Want to trade?” Danitra asks. “I’ve got grilled eggplant and goat cheese on marjoram foccacia.” “Um, I didn’t bring lunch,” Heather stammers, kicking her brown paper bag out of sight. “I’m … uh … on a diet.”
“Diet?” Danitra asks. “Haven’t your dads told you not to buy into that patriarchal looks-based chauvinism? And anyway, what’s this then?” she asks, holding up the bag with “HAVE A SUPER DAY!” written in sparkle marker on it.
Julio, who was listening nearby, runs up and grabs Heather’s lunch. “Yeah, what’s this? It’s somebody’s lunch!” Heather jumps at the bag but Julio holds it out of reach. “You give that back!” Heather yells. “Try and make me!” Julio chides. He pulls Heather’s sandwich apart and drops it like it was electrified. He wobbles away, holding his stomach.
“Oh my God!” he cries. “There’s like dead stuff in there!” Danitra looks at the sandwich lying on the cement. “Is that MEAT? Is that like SPAM?” Claudia, sitting quietly at the other end of the bench, bursts into tears. “Heather’s eating BAMBI!” “It’s friggin’ Wonder Bread!” Julio scoffs. Keanu walks toward the bread and peers at it. “And it’s got LUBE all over it!” “You idiot, that’s MAYONNAISE.” “What’s mayonnaise?” “It’s like goat cheese for heterosexuals.”
“Heterosexuals?” Keanu asks. “Heather’s mommy and daddy are heterosexuals?” Heather starts to yell. “No! I don’t have a mommy and a daddy. I’ve got two daddies!” “Hell-OOOO!” Danitra says, drawing the word out to twelve syllables. “We can see your clothes!” “Um . . . “ Heather stalls, “then I’ve got two mommies.” “And we’ve seen you play baseball,” Julio answers.
Heather, unable to think of a response, sits on the bench and starts to cry. Danitra pulls a robin’s egg blue bandana from her pocket and dabs at Heather’s face. “Maybe your mom’s not really a woman,” Danitra offers. “Well,” Heather says, sniffing, “she cleans the house, and cooks, and does the laundry.” Danitra fumes. “We’re trying to establish that she’s female, not that she’s an idiot.”
“Maybe your dad’s not really a man,” Julio suggests.“Well,” Heather answers, wiping her nose. “He’s big and strong and he’s got a mustache.” Several of the children wonder what this proves but nobody says anything.
“So let’s say you’ve got a mom and a dad,” Keanu says. “Then where did you come from?”Heather thinks for a minute. “They went to bed together, and then I was born.” Some of her friends express further interest, but Heather doesn’t have a brochure. “Daddy put his thing in mommy — “
“Oh, man,” Keanu interjects. “Is that legal?” “HelLLLLO!” sings Danitra, who gets the word up to eighteen syllables this time. “We’re in CaliFORnia!”
“And nine months later I came out of my mommy’s tummy,” Heather adds. Several of the children wonder why they didn’t hire a surrogate with a vagina but nobody says anything.
Heather Has a Mommy and a Daddy, Part Two
One night there’s a dance at Heather’s school and her parents offer to chaperone. While Heather’s dancing with Danitra she sees from the corner of her eye her mom and dad moving onto the dance floor. She watches in horror as her mom just sort of stands there swaying, her gingham granny dress limply hanging to the floor. She grimaces as her dad starts chopping at the air like Jackie Chan being attacked by locusts.
Occasionally their movements coincide with the beat. Heather runs to the bathroom crying.“Heather, don’t feel so bad,” Danitra says. “Lots of kids have embarrassing parents.” She starts to lead Heather out of the bathroom, then stops. “Um, maybe we should stay in here a while longer. They just started doing the Bump.”
One day the class projects are due. Heather brings in the model she’s made. It’s a lump of brown Play-Doh with ketchup poured over it and dotted with marshmellows stuck on with toothpicks. She sets it on the table as her teacher comes over to look.
“Why, Heather! That’s . . . nice! Very very nice!”“What the hell is it?” Tommy asks. “TOMMY! Heather’s parents had me over for dinner once. This is what they call ‘Salisbury steak.’” Heather bursts into tears. “NO IT’S NOT! It’s a VOLCANO! That’s lava, and that’s steam coming out.”
Danitra enters and places her project next to Heather’s on the table. “Why, Danitra, what’s this?” Danitra delicately removes the sheet protecting her project. “Versailles.”
Heather takes one look at the tiny replica of Louis XIV’s summer home, constructed by Danitra and her two dads out of two hundred cubic yards of teak plank, thirty square feet of gold leaf, sixty pounds of Italian travertine marble from the same quarry Michelangelo used, tiny topiary and functional miniature fountains, and cries even harder.
“Why did I have to have a mom and a dad?” Heather sobs. “Why can’t my family be like all the rest?”
Mrs. Weinberg-Lopez pulls Heather close. “Children,” she says,”every family is special, including those conforming to the rigid, stereotypical standard of male domination.” She starts to tell the class about her own family, including her hearing-impaired Hispanic mother, her height-challenged Israeli father, and her Gypsy recovering-substance-abusing brother-in-law and Armenian sex-addict half-sister, but stops, realizing the school year is only 4,074 hours long.
“Just because Heather’s parents are heterosexual doesn’t mean they’re slow-witted philistines, though there are strong correlations you don’t need a PhD in statistics to understand. But Heather is lucky to have a sweet mom and a wonderful dad and a dog named Molly and a hamster named Samson, and they all live together in a lovely house. They’ve got interesting avocado-colored appliances, carpet as long as your hair, and furniture that‘s by-and-large wood that must have taken them hours to assemble. There’s a big plastic sofa that turns into a bed, and a La-Z-Boy — ”
“A what?” Keanu asks. “A La-Z-Boy,” Mrs. Weinberg-Lopez repeats. “It’s a big vinyl chair that reclines.” “Oh, man!” exclaims Keanu, covering his face with his hands. “And I thought our Herman Miller reproductions were embarrassing!”
Mrs. Weinberg-Lopez continues. “But the important thing is, they’re a family. They’re a group united for a common purpose, where each individual is given a sense of empowerment and their shared bonds are formalized in a ritualistic manner.” “Oh,” the students respond in unison. Everybody hugs.
THE END
The story was borrowed from World Class Stupid.
Pictures are from The Library of Congress. This is a repost.
Surrender Dorothy
Should we surrender here?
We are charged with illegal thinking.
The punishment will be severe.
Lets go back to Buford Georgia.
The charges there are shoplifting.
Mugshots by Gwinnett County are more flattering.
I Sing The Body Electric
1
I sing the body electric,
The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul.
Was it doubted that those who corrupt their own bodies conceal themselves?
And if those who defile the living are as bad as they who defile the dead?
And if the body does not do fully as much as the soul?
And if the body were not the soul, what is the soul?
2
The love of the body of man or woman balks account,
the body itself balks account,
That of the male is perfect, and that of the female is perfect.
The expression of the face balks account,
But the expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face,
It is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the joints of his hips and wrists,
It is in his walk, the carriage of his neck, the flex of his waist and knees,
dress does not hide him,
The strong sweet quality he has strikes through the cotton and broadcloth,
To see him pass conveys as much as the best poem, perhaps more,
You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side.
The sprawl and fulness of babes, the bosoms and heads of women,
the folds of their dress, their style as we pass in the street,
the contour of their shape downwards,
The swimmer naked in the swimming-bath, seen as he swims through
the transparent green-shine, or lies with his face up and rolls
silently to and from the heave of the water,
The bending forward and backward of rowers in row-boats,
the horse-man in his saddle,
Girls, mothers, house-keepers, in all their performances,
The group of laborers seated at noon-time with their open dinner-kettles,
and their wives waiting,
The female soothing a child, the farmer’s daughter in the garden or cow-yard,
The young fellow hosing corn, the sleigh-driver driving his six horses
through the crowd,
The wrestle of wrestlers, two apprentice-boys, quite grown, lusty,
good-natured, native-born, out on the vacant lot at sundown after work,
The coats and caps thrown down, the embrace of love and resistance,
The upper-hold and under-hold, the hair rumpled over and blinding the eyes;
The march of firemen in their own costumes, the play of masculine muscle
through clean-setting trowsers and waist-straps,
The slow return from the fire, the pause when the bell strikes suddenly again,
and the listening on the alert,
The natural, perfect, varied attitudes, the bent head, the curv’d neck
and the counting;
Such-like I love—I loosen myself, pass freely, am at the mother’s breast
with the little child,
Swim with the swimmers, wrestle with wrestlers, march in line
with the firemen, and pause, listen, count.
3
I knew a man, a common farmer, the father of five sons,
And in them the fathers of sons, and in them the fathers of sons.
This man was a wonderful vigor, calmness, beauty of person,
The shape of his head, the pale yellow and white of his hair and beard,
the immeasurable meaning of his black eyes,
the richness and breadth of his manners,
These I used to go and visit him to see, he was wise also,
He was six feet tall, he was over eighty years old, his sons were massive,
clean, bearded, tan-faced, handsome,
They and his daughters loved him, all who saw him loved him,
They did not love him by allowance, they loved him with personal love,
He drank water only, the blood show’d like scarlet
through the clear-brown skin of his face,
He was a frequent gunner and fisher, he sail’d his boat himself,
he had a fine one presented to him by a ship-joiner,
he had fowling-pieces presented to him by men that loved him,
When he went with his five sons and many grand-sons to hunt or fish,
you would pick him out as the most beautiful and vigorous of the gang,
You would wish long and long to be with him, you would wish to sit by him
in the boat that you and he might touch each other.
4
I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enough,
To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough,
To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough,
To pass among them or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly
round his or her neck for a moment, what is this then?
I do not ask any more delight, I swim in it as in a sea.
There is something in staying close to men and women and looking on them,
and in the contact and odor of them, that pleases the soul well,
All things please the soul, but these please the soul well.
5
This is the female form,
A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot,
It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction,
I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor,
all falls aside but myself and it,
Books, art, religion, time, the visible and solid earth,
and what was expected of heaven or fear’d of hell, are now consumed,
Mad filaments, ungovernable shoots play out of it,
the response likewise ungovernable,
Hair, bosom, hips, bend of legs, negligent falling hands all diffused,
mine too diffused,
Ebb stung by the flow and flow stung by the ebb, love-flesh swelling
and deliciously aching,
Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous, quivering jelly of love,
white-blow and delirious juice,
Bridegroom night of love working surely and softly into the prostrate dawn,
Undulating into the willing and yielding day,
Lost in the cleave of the clasping and sweet-flesh’d day.
This the nucleus—after the child is born of woman, man is born of woman,
This the bath of birth, this the merge of small and large, and the outlet again.
Be not ashamed women, your privilege encloses the rest,
and is the exit of the rest,
You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.
The female contains all qualities and tempers them,
She is in her place and moves with perfect balance,
She is all things duly veil’d, she is both passive and active,
She is to conceive daughters as well as sons, and sons as well as daughters.
As I see my soul reflected in Nature,
As I see through a mist, One with inexpressible completeness,
sanity, beauty,
See the bent head and arms folded over the breast, the Female I see.
6
The male is not less the soul nor more, he too is in his place,
He too is all qualities, he is action and power,
The flush of the known universe is in him,
Scorn becomes him well, and appetite and defiance become him well,
The wildest largest passions, bliss that is utmost, sorrow that is utmost
become him well, pride is for him,
The full-spread pride of man is calming and excellent to the soul,
Knowledge becomes him, he likes it always, he brings every thing
to the test of himself,
Whatever the survey, whatever the sea and the sail
he strikes soundings at last only here,
(Where else does he strike soundings except here?)
The man’s body is sacred and the woman’s body is sacred,
No matter who it is, it is sacred—is it the meanest one in the laborers’ gang?
Is it one of the dull-faced immigrants just landed on the wharf?
Each belongs here or anywhere just as much as the well-off, just as much as you,
Each has his or her place in the procession.
(All is a procession,
The universe is a procession with measured and perfect motion.)
Do you know so much yourself that you call the meanest ignorant?
Do you suppose you have a right to a good sight,
and he or she has no right to a sight?
Do you think matter has cohered together from its diffuse float,
and the soil is on the surface, and water runs and vegetation sprouts,
For you only, and not for him and her?
7
A man’s body at auction,
(For before the war I often go to the slave-mart and watch the sale,)
I help the auctioneer, the sloven does not half know his business.
Gentlemen look on this wonder,
Whatever the bids of the bidders they cannot be high enough for it,
For it the globe lay preparing quintillions of years without one animal or plant,
For it the revolving cycles truly and steadily roll’d.
In this head the all-baffling brain,
In it and below it the makings of heroes.
Examine these limbs, red, black, or white, they are cunning in tendon and nerve,
They shall be stript that you may see them.
Exquisite senses, life-lit eyes, pluck, volition,
Flakes of breast-muscle, pliant backbone and neck, flesh not flabby,
good-sized arms and legs,
And wonders within there yet.
Within there runs blood,
The same old blood! the same red-running blood!
There swells and jets a heart, there all passions, desires, reachings, aspirations,
(Do you think they are not there because they are not express’d
in parlors and lecture-rooms?)
This is not only one man, this the father of those who shall be fathers
in their turns,
In him the start of populous states and rich republics,
Of him countless immortal lives with countless embodiments and enjoyments.
How do you know who shall come from the offspring of his offspring
through the centuries?
(Who might you find you have come from yourself,
if you could trace back through the centuries?)
8
A woman’s body at auction,
She too is not only herself, she is the teeming mother of mothers,
She is the bearer of them that shall grow and be mates to the mothers.
Have you ever loved the body of a woman?
Have you ever loved the body of a man?
Do you not see that these are exactly the same to all in all nations
and times all over the earth?
If anything is sacred the human body is sacred,
And the glory and sweet of a man is the token of manhood untainted,
And in man or woman a clean, strong, firm-fibred body, is more beautiful
than the most beautiful face.
Have you seen the fool that corrupted his own live body?
or the fool that corrupted her own live body?
For they do not conceal themselves, and cannot conceal themselves.
9
O my body! I dare not desert the likes of you in other men and women,
nor the likes of the parts of you,
I believe the likes of you are to stand or fall with the likes of the soul,
(and that they are the soul,)
I believe the likes of you shall stand or fall with my poems,
and that they are my poems,
Man’s, woman’s, child, youth’s, wife’s, husband’s, mother’s, father’s,
young man’s, young woman’s poems,
Head, neck, hair, ears, drop and tympan of the ears,
Eyes, eye-fringes, iris of the eye, eyebrows, and the waking
or sleeping of the lids,
Mouth, tongue, lips, teeth, roof of the mouth, jaws, and the jaw-hinges,
Nose, nostrils of the nose, and the partition,
Cheeks, temples, forehead, chin, throat, back of the neck, neck-slue,
Strong shoulders, manly beard, scapula, hind-shoulders,
and the ample side-round of the chest,
Upper-arm, armpit, elbow-socket, lower-arm, arm-sinews, arm-bones,
Wrist and wrist-joints, hand, palm, knuckles, thumb, forefinger,
finger-joints, finger-nails,
Broad breast-front, curling hair of the breast, breast-bone, breast-side,
Ribs, belly, backbone, joints of the backbone,
Hips, hip-sockets, hip-strength, inward and outward round,
man-balls, man-root,
Strong set of thighs, well carrying the trunk above,
Leg-fibres, knee, knee-pan, upper-leg, under-leg,
Ankles, instep, foot-ball, toes, toe-joints, the heel;
All attitudes, all the shapeliness, all the belongings of my or your body
or of any one’s body, male or female,
The lung-sponges, the stomach-sac, the bowels sweet and clean,
The brain in its folds inside the skull-frame,
Sympathies, heart-valves, palate-valves, sexuality, maternity,
Womanhood, and all that is a woman, and the man that comes from woman,
The womb, the teats, nipples, breast-milk, tears, laughter, weeping,
love-looks, love-perturbations and risings,
The voice, articulation, language, whispering, shouting aloud,
Food, drink, pulse, digestion, sweat, sleep, walking, swimming,
Poise on the hips, leaping, reclining, embracing, arm-curving and tightening,
The continual changes of the flex of the mouth, and around the eyes,
The skin, the sunburnt shade, freckles, hair,
The curious sympathy one feels when feeling with the hand
the naked meat of the body,
The circling rivers the breath, and breathing it in and out,
The beauty of the waist, and thence of the hips,
and thence downward toward the knees,
The thin red jellies within you or within me, the bones and the marrow
in the bones,
The exquisite realization of health;
O I say these are not the parts and poems of the body only, but of the soul,
O I say now these are the soul!
Text for this adventure is from the Project Gutenberg.
The text was reformatted by Chamblee54.
“I sing the Body Electric” was written by Walt Whitman.
An audio version of this poem is available from Librivox.
Reposted May 31,2013, Walt Whitman’s 194th Birthday.
Drug Screen
Drug testing used to be an exotic, expensive procedure. In the eighties, it was famous athletes. After that camel stuck his nose under the tent flap, the privilege was extended to anyone who wanted a job. Alcohol use continues to be condoned, with the supply advertised on television. This does not affect the urine industrial complex.
PG is working on getting a job, and testing is part of the ritual. This has happened is four or five times before. The first time was in a dirty MOB downtown, with rude employees. Once, the cup was filled at a chiropractic office, which did drug screens as a sideline activity. All of these had negative scores.
The latest collection experience had a few new twists. You are sent a barcode enabled form to print, and bring with you. The email says to “Limit your fluid intake to no more than 24 fluid ounces in the 3 hours before you test.” An address and phone number are given. PG talks to the lady, who tells him where to park. It is the same lady who will wait on him at the facility.
The collection, and hopeful employment, is in Atlanta GA. “Employer Information” comes out of Riverside CA. “Medical Review Officer/Managed Service Provider” is located in Philadelphia PA. Some delivery service will get some business, and the internet comes in handy again. PG has taken a test where the results were processed immediately in the office. Why is a bi-coastal effort is needed?
In medical dealings, the first concrete indication that you are entering an alien environment is getting the magnetic striped parking ticket from the machine. You drive until you find an empty spot, a few numbers down from the valet parking. Walking past the cluster of conversation at the security desk, you go into the office and sign in.
The lady calls your name, and you go into the room. You hand her the paperwork, and your drivers license. There is a metal box with a lock on it. You place what is in your pockets in the lockbox, and take the key. You go to the sink, wash your hands with plain water, without any soap. It is ok to dry your hands. You are given a plastic cup.
You enter the collection room. Even though you are not told whether or not to do it, you lift the seat. The cup is filled past the invisible line, and the remainder of the product goes in the commode. You do not flush, per instructions. You go out, and wash your hands again, this time using soap. The lady is wearing plastic gloves now, of a tasteful blue shade. She places part of the sample in a small plastic container, and places a sticker over the lid. The sticker has a bunch of numbers, and a bar code. You sign a form saying that the sample was not adulterated, among other things.
The lady is very nice throughout the visit. The office will not receive results, and does not know where the testing will take place. You walk out to your vehcie. Since you have been there less than twenty minutes, you don’t have to pay.
The next day, saw an email. “We have received your drug results back and they have come back as dilute, which means you consumed too much liquids prior to your testing. You will be required to go back and complete another test. Please try and limit your fluid to no more than 16 fl. oz prior to this test.” Adequate hydration will have to wait.
This message came after a facebook exchange. A post was made to a community page. @tejucole I learn more about privilege from what I get wrong about misogyny than from what I get right about racism. A few minutes later, this comment arrived. “Did you mean to post the out of the blue statement about privilege on the faerie page?” PG took the post down. Let sleeping dogs lie, especially the bitches.
The notice about the second test came at 1:30. PG tried to calculate how many ounces of fluid he had consumed, and decided to wait. At 3:30, he went down the familiar road to pill hill.
The second visit to the collection facility was different. There were several people in the waiting room, and they were all serviced before PG. Finally, he went into the room. The lady was much more businesslike than the one the day before. The procedure was a bit different. Go in there, and fill the cup above the line. Do not flush. A minute later, PG comes back with a full cup. The lady poured a sample into a plastic container, and said to empty the cup into the commode, flush, throw the cup away, and wash your hands with soap and water. The procedure was finished at 4:19, Since PG left his car for more than a half hour, there was a $3.50 charge for parking.
When PG got home, he emptied his pockets. There was an extra set of keys. He had taken home the keys to the lockbox. A third trip to the collection facility was required. Two business days later, the test results came back. PG was certified ready to go to work. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives,Georgia State University Library”.
Historic Revisionism And Memorial Day
There is a bit of polemic on the internet now, The revolutionary origins of Memorial Day and its political hijacking. It tells the story of an incident in Charleston SC, where newly freed slaves buried some Union soldiers who died in a prison camp. The incident is described as the first Decoration Day, which later evolved into Memorial Day. As the article tells it, this Holiday was intended as a revolutionary statement about Black freedom, and was whitewashed into an all caucasian affair. This is not a good summary of the article, but should do for now. You can read it for yourself.
PG read the article, and started to get a headache. While researching a Memorial Day. post, he came across the Charleston incident. Apparently, it did happen. There were also numerous other remembrances of the fallen soldiers. The War Between the States was an incredibly bloody affair, with many families losing someone. The urge to remember these fallen soldiers was overwhelming. The custom of Decoration Day would probably have happened with, or without, the Charleston incident. It is incorrect to say that those former slaves invented Decoration Day.
There was an exchange of messages. PG left a comment, “That article is not completely true.”
Lendon Sadler Thank you for your comment concerning the historical roots of Memorial day, but could you be so kind as to explain a bit more the inaccuracy contained in the posting.For my sake, and that of my friends, it would be greatly appreciated. Thanks. And please feel comfortable saying whatever is on your mind in my pages. Sincere regards, Lendon
Luther Mckinnon I will have to think about it some. Also, I am not sure that I have an interest in exploring this issue. I did some research about the celebration in Charleston. It apparently did take place. However, there were other people decorating graves before that. After the carnage of the War Between the States, there seemed to be a lot of activity towards remembering the dead. The slaves in Charleston definitely did not “invent” decoration day. That they had one of the earliest celebrations is notable, but they should not take sole credit. As to the rest of the article… i would have to think about it some, and to tell you the truth I don’t know if I am particularly interested. One of the pieces I read about the evolution of Memorial Day mentioned World War One, which was the next major war the US was involved in after WBTS. Here again, there was a lot of dead soldiers to remember. This was when the holiday evolved into a remembrance of soldiers from all wars. Anyway, I hope this is helpful, and maybe we can explore some of the other issues of that article.
The article in question is at a site called Liberation, “Newspaper of the Party for Socialism and Liberation at LiberationNews.org.” There is a some historic revisionism, with statements like this. “In 1877, the Northern capitalist establishment decisively turned their backs on Reconstruction, striking a deal with the old slavocracy to return the South to white supremacist rule in exchange for the South’s acceptance of capitalist expansion.” Whatever, dude.
The custom of Decoration/Memorial Day is pretty much what it says it is… to remember the fallen soldiers of our wars, especially the ones with lots of casualties. According to this source, it was World War I that facilitated the transition from Decoration Day, focused on WBTS, to a Memorial Day that honored the dead of all wars. It almost certainly was not done as a gesture of white supremacy.
The so-called lessons of history are very versatile. You can find whatever facts are convenient for your agenda, and if you don’t get what you need you can make some up. After all, there is nobody alive today that can remember 1877. We have to take the word of whoever tells the tale of a “deal with the old slavocracy”. Sometimes, these stories are more plausible than others.
Sometimes, things just don’t ring true. “The concept that the population must “remember the sacrifice” of U.S. service members, without a critical reflection on the wars themselves, did not emerge by accident. It came about in the Jim Crow period as the Northern and Southern ruling classes sought to reunite the country around apolitical mourning, which required erasing the “divisive” issues of slavery and Black citizenship.”
Pictures are from The Library of Congress.
Summertime And The Riding Is Easy
During the time between Memorial Day, and the day Elvis died, the sky is light enough to ride long after suppertime. Around the Summer solstice, daytime heat is such that most sane people stay in the air conditioned shade. It is only during twilight that the outdoors is fit for man and beast.
A bicycle is a great companion for these times. When you go uphill, your muscles clench and relax, your lungs hoover the magnolia scented air, and your heart goes plump plump plump. Many bystanders only see the face of the rider, which may appear to be in pain. Often, the face is playing the martyr, while the heart is delirious with joy. Once you reach the top, you get to ride downhill.
On this day, PG rode past a house that was closed for repair. In a trashcan was the sun bleached remains of an American flag. The flag had been placed in the yard, by a realtor, as an advertising gimmick. PG was offended by the shabby treatment of this flag. He pulled it off the pole, put it in his bike box, and rode on. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives,Georgia State University Library”.
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