Linda Lisa Seaborne
Georgia executed Curtis Osborne this week.
The story is here. The murders took place in 1990.
Executions are set to become routine. The Supreme Court has ruled that lethal injection is an acceptable method for offing convicts.
As live apartment fire notes:
The Department of Corrections tries to have at least one media witness to every execution. There’s a print reporter from middle Georgia who witnessed dozens of them. It seems a distasteful assignment. We once saw an AJC reporter leave the Jackson prison grounds in tears after witnessing an execution.
It’s also an important assignment (in spite of increasing media disinterest– WAGA covered the execution with a 25 second reader). The blunt-instrument power of government is on no greater display than when it puts a human being to death. Eyewitness accounts ultimately led to the demise of the electric chair. Pieces like the one written by Cook will keep lethal injection under legitimate scrutiny as well.
One wonders about the deterrent value of an execution eighteen years after the crime. When the crime occurred, the Braves were in last place, Daddy Bush was President, and Saddam Hussein was preparing to invade Kuwait.
The execution did not bring the victims back.
Mr. Osborne alledgedly killed Arthur Jones because Mr. Osborne did not want to hand over $400 he had made selling the victim’s motorcycle. Linda Lisa Seaborne was there at a bad time.
The reports do not say what happened to the motorcycle.
He just looks like him
A popular local radio whiner got on the subject of phrases today. The expressions today were words that said, when you heard them used, that you were listening to an idiot. The ones suggested by the listeners were about what you could expect:neo cons, social justice, global warming and the like. When I am driving the truck, I don’t have time to call in. I did have an answer.
Whenever I hear the phrase “main stream media” or “msm”, the light goes off in my head. Do not pay any more attention to this moron.
The radio whiner in question works for Cox Enterprises. Cox owns the local monopoly fishwrapper, a network affiliate tv station, and lots of other things. That sounds pretty mainstream to me.
The whole thing about liberal media is a joke. The print and electronic story mongers are profit driven corporate things. That is their bias. And where is the bias in the stock market charts, want ads, or baseball standings? This is what the fishwrapper is made of. Any news stories are just something to put between the ads.
So, I am writing this while listening to a Tom Waits performance. It is called Storytellers, and Mr. Waits tells a story before each song. I suspect that the story has nothing to do with the song, but is just good to tell entertain the audience. The bar probably did a good business while he told stories.
The pictures I put up with the posts have nothing to do with the text. These images came from a snowstorm last January. I took my camera up to Peachtree Road, started at the funeral home and went over to Oglethorpe. Turning around at the gothic stadium, I went back down the street toward Chamblee proper. Todays selection includes a statue from the antique collectibles yard. Statues are like cemetery people, in that they are not camera shy, and never mind standing still to pose.
So Tom Waits has a swear jar in his house, where you have to put a dollar in if you cuss. He would put a ten in and not ask for change. This concert is at the Airport in Burbank CA. Laugh In was from Beautiful Downtown Burbank, but Mr. Waits didn’t make it past the airport.
As the church sign said, ” When your ship comes in, will you be at the airport?”
I saw Tom Waits at a concert once. Tim Curry was playing at the Agora Ballroom, and I was wandering through the balcony. Mr. Waits was playing the next night, but I was too slack to attend. I saw Mr. Waits and some people sitting at a table. I asked this guy who looked like a guard if that was Tom Waits. “No, it just looks like him”.
Marching in Alabama
Recently your humble reporter has been wallowing in the pixelage of “World Class Stupid”. If the rearranged that to be World Stupid Class they could call it geography.
The big dog at WCS is a well spoken fellow, and I sent him a letter yesterday asking for permission to quote some of his work. I may yet do that, but I am distracted by some examples of World Stupid…without any class…from the Bush White House.
The first quote is from WCS itself. You have to admire someone called that who doesn’t mind a bit of competition. It refers to Scott McClelland. Regarding his tell all book at W and the bois: “[Scott] McClelland was reportedly paid $75,000 for his tome. A White House staffer referenced the Bible in response by telling the media, “Ironically, in today’s dollars that amount is worth exactly 30 pieces of silver.”
The WCS feature about this Bible Buckle Humor had a link to a Washington Post article about McClelland and W. This article has a link to mother jones, which does not require a subscription for much the same information.
The quote below is from a book by Ret. Lt. Gen. Ricardo S. Sanchez. His book has been largely ignored in the flap over the McClelland book, but may well be more credible. A military man has an obligation to follow orders more severe than a press spokesman. When Gen. Sanchez denounces the dunces, he carries more weight.
In the speech quoted below, Mr. Bush was speaking to his national security team and some Generals. It is after an incident in 2004 when some contractors were killed in Fallujah. The president speaks:
“Kick ass!” . “If somebody tries to stop the march to democracy, we will seek them out and kill them! We must be tougher than hell! This Vietnam stuff, this is not even close. It is a mind-set. We can’t send that message. It’s an excuse to prepare us for withdrawal.”
“There is a series of moments and this is one of them. Our will is being tested, but we are resolute. We have a better way. Stay strong! Stay the course! Kill them! Be confident! Prevail! We are going to wipe them out! We are not blinking!”
This from a man who spent Vietnam marching on weekends in Alabama (sometimes).

What is dirty about Louie Louie?
The sixties were a great time to be a kid. As long as you were too young for a Vietnam Vacation, there were kicks to be had.
One of the more enduring legends was the dirty lyrics to “Louie Louie”. Recorded by an obscure band called the Kingsmen, the song was a massive hit in 1963 ( It never was Number One). When WQXI put out lists of the greatest songs of all time, “Louie Louie” was at the top of the list. This is despite, or because of, the raucous sound. The song was recorded in one take, when the band thought they were playing a rehearsal. The vocals are difficult to make sense of, and rumored to be obscene. No one was ever quite sure why .With the garbled sound on the record, the listener could hear almost anything they wanted to.
The Governor of Indiana, Matthew Welsh, banned radio stations from playing the song in that state.
On February 7, 1964, Attorney General Robert Kennedy got a letter from an outraged parent about the lyrics to “Louie Louie”. An F.B.I. investigation followed. After thirty months of investigation, the Bureau concluded that they could not make sense of the lyrics, and did not know whether it was obscene.
There was a girl on my street named Carol. A tomboy who could whip most of the boys, she had a pet skunk named Napoleon. Carol claimed to have heard a band at Lenox Square play “Louie Louie”. “He said the words real slow so you could understand them. I can’t repeat what he said,but it was dirty”.
Here is a transcription of the lyrics.
Louie, Louie Oh no, me gotta go.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, said, ah
Louie, Louie Oh, baby, me gotta go
A fine little girl she waits for me Me
catch a ship for cross the sea.
Me sail that ship all alone Me never think how I make it home.
Ah, Louie, Louie No, no, no, no, me gotta go.
Oh, no. Said, Louie, Louie Oh, baby, said we gotta go.
Three nights and days I sail the sea Think of girl, oh, constantly.
Ah, on that ship I dream she there
I smell the rose, ah, in her hair.
Ah, Louie, Louie Oh, no, sayin’ we gotta go.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
but, ah, Louie, Louie Oh, baby, said, we gotta go.
[Yelled] Okay, let’s give it to ’em right now! [instrumental]
Me see Jamaica, ah, moon above.
It won’t be long, me see me love.
Take her in my arms again, I got her; I’ll never leave again.
Ah, Louie, Louie Oh, no, sayin’ me gotta go.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
But, ah, Louie, Louie Oh, baby, said, ah, we gotta go.
I said we gotta go now, Let’s get on outta here.
[Yelled] Let’s go.
Transcribed by David Spector Sept. 2000 Public Domain
If anyone reading this can explain what was so dirty about that, please tell me.
Thank you Wikipedia for your help in assembling this.
Providence Canyon
PG arrived to get DD at 8:02 . This was two minutes after he had planned to arrive, which is pretty punctual. Going through L5P and the Krog tunnel, they arrived at the Flap palace at 8:34. Dr. B and the resident were there, waiting for Dr. C. He was taking MARTA, and delayed at the Lindbergh Station. There was a phone call at 9am. Flap went to the Inman Park station to get Dr. C, while PG, DD, and Dr. B proceeded in the black Jetta. The plan was to go down Moreland to I285, and on down to Providence Canyon. The Hiram two would meet them at the park.
The turn onto I185 was missed. PG had a map, and saw a highway that would connect them onto the correct interstate with little time lost. The rest of the trip down was spent playing roadkill bingo and driving funny around trailer parks.
Finally the players arrived at the park and made an emergency visit to the first available restroom. The Hiram two made the trip from Atlabama in good time , and had been waiting a half hour. The first item on the agenda was the white trail. This was a three mile trail at the top of the canyon, and was different from the seven mile red trail. Nobody had a permit for the red trail, so the white trail was the way to go.
It was a hot early summer day in Middle Georgia, with lots of direct sun and humidity. PG was glistening as he trailed behind the others going up the hill to the other side of the canyon. There was a sign imploring hikers to use good judgment while enjoying the park. The sign made a deep impression on Dr. C.
There was a homestead on the site of Providence Canyon once. Some vehicles were abandoned, and left behind. Dr. C. took a close look at the vehicles, after his experience on MARTA. There did seem to be a problem with taking delivery of the vehicles, not to mention none of them having a motor.
The red trail ended at the parking lot, not far from the initial pitstop. At first the crew was walking back on the road to the cars and food, but cooler heads prevailed. It was noted that, on a previous trip to the canyon, PG had walked on the floor of the canyon. The rim trail was a good workout, and the trees were pretty, but had few knockout views of the canyon.
There was a group of ladies resting on a bench. The hikers discussed the situation with the ladies, and one of whom had a map of the park. A decision was made to go down the hill and walk in the creekbed until the hikers reached the floor of the canyons. The ladies also took a group picture of the hikers.
The floor of the canyons yielded some spectacular sights. The canyon is the result of shaky land management. The land was cleared for farming, and started to erode when it rained. The gullies grew to 150 feet deep, revealing many colors. The site is sometimes called Georgia”s Little Grand Canyon. Indeed, there are more pine trees there than in the Arizona Canyon.
After a few minutes exploring this glorious natural disaster, the hikers went back up the hill, and got water from the cooler. They got in the vehicles, went to the covered picnic table, and had lunch.
Like a Bearskin Rug
P.G. was driving down a road in Marietta when he passed a bar. The sign in front advertised “KY Jelly Wrestling”.
The implications were clear and slippery.
A bar in Marietta was involved in a spectacular DUI case a few years back. A patron was driving home when his pickup truck swerved off the road, and went under the guy wire of a telephone pole. His passenger had his head stuck out the window, where it was separated from his body by the guy wire. The driver continued home. He went to bed without changing his clothes.
P.G. thinks it was the same bar, but would not want to say something like that in black and white…or whatever color he choses to print this.
His thoughts were distracted a few minutes later by some radio nonsense. A whiner, who is an attorney, was saying that ” a statement is not a lie unless you knew it was false when you said it”. While technically true, this does not absolve the person who spreads falsehoods of responsibility.
The whiner at law was referring to remarks by President Bush before the War in Babylon. Mr. Bush may have felt that Iraq did indeed have weapons of mass destruction. There is reason to believe that Saddam bought poison gas from The United States when he was our ally…and Daddy Bush was Vice President. Bush the Younger is reported to have demanded the CIA give him “evidence” of WMD’s in Iraq, so that he could justify his war lust. When people told him what he wanted to hear, he did not dig deeply to make sure it was true.
His lips were moving when he said it.
Technically it was not a lie. Nor was it telling the truth.
Finally, before the weekend gets started, here is a minstrel show.
A clergyman from the Roman Pedophile Church was speaking at the Trinity United Church of Christ. You know, the one that Barack Obama went to for twenty years, but never heard the preacher say anything really bad.
This pasty white goes to a black church and carries on like a true soul brother. I wonder if he talks like that when he is talking to a white audience.
As for his claim that Hillary thought she deserved the nomination because she was white…what color were the other Democrats that sought the nomination?
Shades of Gray
A clean pair of socks is change you can believe in…The intangibles include believe, respect, good will, and trust. Semantic fine tuning aside, these words mean the same thing… A man has to believe in something. I believe I will have a drink. W.C. Fields said that… A cynic is someone who knows the cost of everything and the value of nothing. A discussion on belief needs balance… Mr. Barnum once said “there is a sucker born every minute”. This belief served Mr. Barnum abundantly… Miss Teenage South Carolina gave a famous speech. The first three words were ” I personally believe”… Anyone can quote the Bible. To do so without the trust of the listener is to speak in vain… Opinions are like a smelly,though productive, body part. What does this say about beliefs?… If you express your thought in less than twenty two words there is no need to continue…Believe is a seven letter word. The first two letters are BE. The next three letters are LIE…Cher had a hit song called “Believe” The hair is a wig, the plastic surgery is paid for, but do you believe… John 3:16 has more than 22 words. That verse helps reduce Jesus to a scheme for life after death… My opinions about G-d, the Bible, Jesus, and Life after Death are none of your business… This rumination was inspired by twentytwowords.com. The twentytwo word limit was observed in most of these passages.
Number One Hits

There is a man known as XWinger. He sells Celtic music, promotes DimSum groups, and has a blog.
Once at his place I saw a link to a site that tells you what the Number One song was on that day. The arbiter of number oneness is Billboard Magazine.
The List goes back to 1892. On January 1, 1892, the #1 hit was “Drill, Ye Terriers, Drill” by George J. Gaskin. I imagine that before a certain date this would refer to sheet music, or maybe player piano thingies. Other big hits from the Gay Nineties include “The Fatal Wedding” (1894, George J. Gaskin), “Little Alabama Coon” (1895. Len Spencer) and ” A Hot Time in the Old Town”(1897, Dan Quinn).
When my daddy was born in 1916, the top hit was “M-O-T-H-E-R ( A Word that Means So Much to Me) by Henry Burr. When mother was born in 1922, folks were listening to “Stumbling” by Paul Whiteman.
In October 1929, the stock market crashed to “Am I Blue” by Ethel Waters.
When Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, the big song was “Chattanooga Choo Choo” by Glenn Miller. Mr. Miller joined the Army after the start of the War, and toured with a band to entertain troops. On December 15, 1944, his plane disappeared in France. The number one hit that day was “I’m Making Believe” by the Ink Spots and Ella Fitzgerald. The Ink Spots played at the Domino Lounge downtown when I was a kid. The shows were advertised on the radio, and I heard people say “the Ink Spots have been around for a while”.
In 1954, this reporter was born. The number one hit that day was “Wanted” by Perry Como. Two years later, my brother was born to the sounds of “Heartbreak Hotel” by Elvis Presley.
One way to track the hits through the years is to pick a date and follow it. It should be noted that Billboard is the essence of “commercial”. On my tenth birthday, the big sound was “Hello Dolly” by Louis Armstrong. On the verge of the summer of Love, the big hit was “Something Stupid” by Nancy Sinatra and Frank Sinatra. At no time in early May did the Beatles have a number one hit. This lack of hipness was partially compensated in 1969 with “Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In” by the Fifth Dimension.
The seventies continued the commercial tradition with “Joy to the World” by Three Dog Night. This was in 1971, the year they played a big show at Atlanta Stadium. The disco monster raised its glittering hand with “Night Fever”, by the Bee Gees in 1978.
As the eighties rolled in, I got a job and apartment, and music became less familiar. The first big May hit of the eighties was “Call Me” by Blondie. It was from a movie starring Richard Gere. The movie did not feature gerbils. The decayed decade was not a total loss, as 1983 featured “Beat It” by Michael Jackson.
Moving into the nineties and oughts, my old fogey decrepitude is near total. Or is that the wasteland of pop music? By this time top 40 is all but extinct, am radio given over to all talk stations, and fm music so spread out that no one style of music is dominant. The number one hit on my birthday this year is “Bleeding Love” by Leona Lewis.
Of course, the leaders of our country don’t always listen. On May 28, 1915, the biggest song was “I Didn’t Raise My Boy To Be A Soldier” by the Peerless Quartet. And, in 1964 on this day, the number one hit was “Love Me Do” by the Beatles.
Watering Hole Story
PG and his neighbor DA went out to drink beer and shoot pool. The destination was a place called the Watering Hole.
The Watering Hole used to be a veterans of foreign wars. There was a TV repair store next door. When the county legalized bars, the VFW went somewhere else, and the Watering Hole was born. The TV repair store became the game room. You could see on the floor where the counter used to be.
This was a weeknight. One of the few other customers was a gentleman who was already past his limit. The drunk was fussing at the bartender about something when PG and DA walked in.
PG got lucky and hit a good shot on the pool table. He got a bit cocky and said And now for my next trick The drunk staggered into the game room and lay down on an empty pool table. DA replied Is that your next trick?
Before long, it was time to go home. As PG and DA were leaving, the drunk was arguing with the bartender. He wanted to buy a twelve pack to take home with him. He won the argument, and started walking up Clairmont Road with his prize.
PG got a block or so away from the place, when he realized what was going on. He turned around, and saw the drunk sitting in front of a seven eleven store. He was sitting on the curb drinking a beer.
PG drove in front of him and stopped the car. DA got out, walked over to the curb, picked up the eleven pack, and walked over to the car with it. The drunk stood up and yelled obscenities as the car pulled off into the night.

Memorial Day

Today is the observance of Memorial Day. According the invaluable Wikipedia, this holiday began as Decoration Day. It was intended to honor the soldiers who died in the Union Army during the War Between the States. It was expanded after World War I to honor casualties of any war or military action. As the story unfolds:
The official birthplace of Memorial Day is Boalsburg, Pennsylvania. The village was credited with being the birthplace because it observed the day on May 5, 1866, and each year thereafter, and because it is likely that the friendship of General John Murray, a distinguished citizen of Waterloo, and General John A. Logan, who led the call for the day to be observed each year and helped spread the event nationwide, was a key factor in its growth.
General Logan had been impressed by the way the South honored their dead with a special day and decided the Union needed a similar day.”
In the South, Confederate Memorial Day was observed. The day chosen was April 26. On April 26, 1865, Confederate General Joseph E. Johnston surrendered to Union General William T. Sherman.
Of course, in the intervening years, Memorial Day has become the start of summer, and a time of great merriment. The question arises, does this day honor the Confederate soldiers who did not come home?
Before we get too far along, I should say out loud that slavery was not a good idea. It was terrible for the African Americans. It was backwards economically, and dragged the South into a war which damaged it for many years post bellum.
The War Between the States had several causes, slavery being one of the important ones. Once the Union won the war, this is the cause that the history books mentioned.
Many of the men who fought for the Confederacy did not own slaves. The slaveowners were a dirty bunch. Not only did they brutally enslave the Black people, they got the poor whites to fight in the war.
There is this problem in history of the soldiers who died fighting for the losing side. We do owe our freedoms and way of life to the soldiers who sacrificed in battle. But what to make of these Confederate soldiers who died so their rich neighbors could keep their slaves? They are just as brave as the Union troops, often fighting with less food, weapons and clothing.
The modern side to this dilemma is the Vietnam Vet. Often drafted, sent to fight a war which few wanted, these brave soldiers have been dumped on. While the war did not end well, they are every bit as valiant as those who fought in other conflicts.
When (and if) the current conflicts in Iraq and Afganistan are over, it is hoped that the troops who served there will be treated with honor.

Cost Plus
The radio whiners were discussing the oil executives talking to congress about their profits recently. A congressman proposed a special excess profits tax, which upset the whiners. ( It has long been suspected that these radio talkers are on the oil industry payroll)
Your gentle reporter heard this talk, and a light bulb went off in his head. What about a special tax for the contractors in Babylon?
Before we get any further, I should say that I oppose a special tax for war profiteers. While the “Daddy Warbucks” tax would feel good to impose, it probably wouldn’t improve honesty or make the war less expensive. The companies would do some accounting magic, call the assets something else, and get the same return on their investment. In fact, this tax might even make the process more costly.
Money is a weapon in war. The ability to fight depends on the ability to finance. A robust at home economy is needed to pay for a war, and for the interest on the money that is borrowed to pay for it. Arguably, when you steal from the war effort, you are committing treason.
This war has been outsourced like no other. Many of the chores once done by conscripted soldiers are now performed by well paid contractors. Many of these contracts are “cost plus” which means that the contractor gets all of their money back plus a percentage of profit. Their is no incentive to be efficient.
As TomPaine.com reports:
“What followed was a U.S. corporate invasion of Iraq.
While some 150 U.S. companies received contracts for work in Iraq following the invasion, the big reconstruction winners (after Halliburton) were: Parsons Corporation of Pasadena, Calif. ($5.3 billion); Fluor Corporation of Aliso Viejo, Calif. ($3.75 billion); Washington Group International of Boise, Idaho ($3.1 billion); Shaw Group of Baton Rouge, Louisiana ($3 billion); Bechtel Corporation of San Francisco, Calif. ($2.8 billion); Perini Corporation of Framingham, Mass. ($2.5 billion); and Contrack International, Inc. of Arlington, Va. ($2.3 billion).
These seven companies are responsible for virtually all reconstruction in Iraq, including water, electricity, bridges, roads, hospitals and sewers. One reason for their failure was that companies, such as Bechtel, came to Iraq with the hopes of ultimately winning contracts to privatize the services they were hired to rebuild. Because many U.S. contracts guaranteed that all of the companies’ costs would be covered, plus a set rate of profit—known as “cost-plus contracts”—they took their time, built expensive new facilities that showcased their skills and would serve their own needs were they to run the systems one day”

Another take is from a blogger nickleberry-huxtable:
“War is a gift from heaven for these corporations. Their everyday `peace-time’ activity is rampant enough, but the checks and balances on their activity still chafe. War provides a chance to avoid these checks, it releases massive amounts of money and creates a chaos of unaccountability and lack of regulation. In the midst of all this, money can leak away in bundles and be quietly directed towards those who desire it most – the greedy rich.
A warning though: This is not to say that this is the reason we went to the war in the first place, or even that it was a factor in the decision to go to war. Instead it is simply the case that war tends to throw up situations of chaos which can be easily exploited by the wealthy and powerful. When war is prosecuted by people who have a vested interest in maintaining this chaos (as is often the case) this exploitation increases”.
While doing research for this feature, I found an article at commondreams.org, about prostitution in Iraq.
“Another major change has been the reliance of the U.S. military on private contractors, who have now surpassed the number of soldiers in Iraq. … Less attention has been paid to how private contractors are changing the nature of military prostitution. In the best known example, DynCorp employees were caught trafficking women in Bosnia, and some indications suggest that similar acts may be taking place in Iraq.”
Getting back to the radio whiners, their silence on war profiteering is most curious. ( I can think of an exception. Laura Ingraham has said that Brown and Root is losing money feeding the troops in Iraq.)They would much rather lambast domestic critics of the war. The truth is that war profiteering is hurting the war effort. It makes the war much more expensive, and is costing America resources that could be used in the war effort. It hurts morale among our troops, who see the contractors growing rich while the soldiers risk their lives.

Forever Stamps
PG wrote the checks for his bills, and took off on bicycle for the post office in chamblee.
He had gone to the dedication of this post office in 1964. He was ten years old, and he talked to a congressmen named Charles Weltner. This was his year to be excited by politics, and he asked Mr. Weltner if he was going to the Democratic Convention. “Yes, I am going to speak” . Two years later Mr. Weltner resigned his seat rather than run on the same ticket as Lester Maddox.
The post office was horrible. What was once a simple matter…buying stamps from a machine…has become a complicated ordeal. PG was not sure what the current cost of postage was, and finally bought the 42 cent stamps and hopes they work. The stamps say forever, so they should be good.
Leaving the post office, and past the inevitable antique shops, PG came to the Woody Malone underpass. A mural had recently landed on the east wall of this facility. At first it was clouds and a jagged edge. Then an airplane flew in, which is fitting for the home of camp carroll and pdk. Then same the smiling multi hued children, which is surprising to PG. He remembers how redneck Chamblee was when he was a kid. It is hoped that the mural is complete, before King Kong starts harassing the smiling multi hued children
.















































2 comments