Archive for September, 2016

People who read books live an average of almost 2 years longer than those who do not read at all, a Yale research found.

 

reading-a-book

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If Tommy Boy Were A Drama

Posted: September 30, 2016 in Humor, Movies
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Love it.

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Yep.

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My exasperation at the overprotection of modern society has been well documented. From the banning of dodgeball in our schools to removing monkey bars from our playgrounds, the powers-that-be continue their ruination of all things fun. Why the hell do these people think kids climb trees? Ride a bike fast down a hill? Jump off the roof us a house? Because it’s a little dangerous and therefore fun, man!

I’ve written several blogs on how things have changed, including Our Soft Society, or How In The Hell Did I survive My Childhood?Killer Toys, Soft Kids and a Sobering Realization and . . . oh, hell, just type in “wussification” in the search box up there and all sorts of stuff will pop up.

And hey, little league baseball players wearing helmets has been around forever, right? But now they’re wearing them in the field. Hey, I know a line drive can hurt you but isn’t that what gloves are for? Sweet Jesus.

Which brings me to the latest example of how we’ve become soft, whiny, sissified namby-pambys.

It’ll be easier to cut the chatter and just show you a couple photos. First off we have a photo of the New York Mets celebrating their recent division championship:

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Next we have a photo of the 1955 Minnesota Twins celebrating their title:

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If you haven’t noticed yet, there’s a difference. The guys in the top photo are wearing goggles because the champagne will sting their eyes. Sweet Mother of God. However, the real men in the bottom photo are feeling the burn, baby!

Of course they never wore seatbelts, smoked like chimneys and thought women were second class citizens aas well, but that’s neither here nor there. We were a tougher breed back then, man.

Sadly, the Wussification of America is alive and well.

PS: That might be beer in the second photo. Same difference.

Nov 7, 2015; San Antonio, TX, USA; San Antonio Spurs head coach Gregg Popovich reacts during the second half against the Charlotte Hornets at AT&T Center. Mandatory Credit: Soobum Im-USA TODAY SportsWe’ve all read the commentary regarding Colin Kaepernick’s decision to kneel during the National Anthem as a protest against the police and their treatment of African-Americans in the United States. I read a lot of comments along the lines of “Leave the country if you don’t like it!” which seems to be a bit of an hysterical reaction but hey, it’s America, we’re all entitled to our opinion. Wait . . .

Maybe “hypocritical” would explain that stance better.

Anyway, Coach Gregg Popovich of the San Antonio Spurs was asked his opinion of the whole controversy, and I thought his insight was interesting.

“I absolutely understand why they’re doing what they’re doing, and I respect their courage for what they’ve done. The question is whether it will do any good or not because it seems that change really seems to happen through political pressure, no matter how you look at it. Whether it’s Dr. King getting large groups together and boycotting buses, or what’s happened in Carolina with the NBA and other organizations pulling events to make it known what’s going on. But I think the important thing that Kaepernick and others have done is to keep it in the conversation. When’s the last time you heard the name Michael Brown? With our 24/7 news, things seem to drift. We’re all trying to just exist and survive.

“It’s easier for white people because we haven’t lived that experience. It’s difficult for many white people to understand the day-to-day feeling that many black people have to deal with. It’s not just a rogue policeman, or a policeman exerting too much force or power, when we know that most of the police are just trying to do their job, which is very difficult. I’d be scared to death if I was a policeman and I stopped a car. You just don’t know what’s going to happen. And part of that in our country is exacerbated by the preponderance of guns that other countries don’t have to deal with. It gets very complicated.

“At this point, when somebody like Kaepernick brings attention to this, and others who have, it makes people have to face the issue because it’s too easy to let it go because it’s not their daily experience. If it’s not your daily experience, you don’t understand it. I didn’t talk to my kids about how to act in front of a policeman when you get stopped. I didn’t have to do that. All of my black friends have done that. There’s something that’s wrong about that, and we all know that. What’s the solution? Nobody has figured it out. But for sure, the conversation has to stay fresh, it has to stay continuous, it has to be persistent, and we all have a responsibility to make sure that happens in our communities.”

Agree or not, it’s refreshing to see a professional head coach with an opinion. Thoughts?

Wonder if he fetches?

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Check out the Pangolin, man. Dude looks like an artichoke with legs. No offense Pangolin. Take a gander at the large, protective scales covering his skin. They are the only known mammals with this adaptation, which is cool as hell. They live in Africa in hollow trees or burrows, depending on the species. Pangolins are nocturnal, and their diet consists of mainly ants and termites which they capture using their long, specially adapted tongues. On a related note, a girl I dated in college named Heidi had one of those. Heidi was a popular chick. Pangolin tend to be solitary animals, meeting only to mate and produce a litter of one to three offspring which are raised for about two years. Oh, and it may not surprise you to learn that this guy is related to the Armadillo and even rolls up into a ball like one when threatened. I may try that move my own self, man. Anyhoo, Pangolin.

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Don’t do it, bro. DON’T DO IT.

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Americans wasted $2 billion in 2015 putting premium gasoline into cars that don’t need it.
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Dead on.

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That’s great reaction time right there.

Bad decision, drunk dude.

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E.

Let’s begin with my favorite E story. A few years ago he was asked to provide a quote for the dust jacket to Kurt Cobain’s posthumously published diaries. He complied, providing this quote:

Please don’t do this to me after I kill myself.”

Needless to say, the blurb wasn’t used. Still, it helps provide a glimpse into the mind of a man called E.

But let’s go back to the beginning, at least for me. I guess it started with the voice. Soulful, sad, carrying with it a kind of a plaintive desperation if you will. A friend of mine (’twas a man called Goose, a legend in his own right) had given me a mix tape that had “Susan’s House” on it back in 1996 and I was instantly intrigued. So began my introduction and fascination with E and his group, the Eels.

For those in the know, the Eels are essentially one man, the aforementioned E, whose given name is Mark Oliver Everett. E plays piano, guitar, drums, and virtually every other instrument you can think of. He’s known critically for his innovative combination of instruments and musical styles. He’s had his share of traumatic life events to say the least. He found his father dead in his bed when he was 19. His sister, who he was very close to, committed suicide in 1996, and his mother lost a long battle to cancer in 1998. He also lost several close friends during this time. Enough you say? Not quite. His cousin, Jennifer Lewis née Gore, was a flight attendant on the plane that struck the Pentagon during the September 11, 2001 attacks. So, E is the last surviving member of his family. The tragedies in his life have contributed to his musical style that includes mortality’s toll, mental illness, and loneliness. And as I said, the mournful, hoarse voice lends itself perfectly to his lyrics and musical tone. Not to fear though, his catalog includes upbeat and uplifting songs as well, a lot focusing on survival. As he sings on E’s Tune:

Life’s just an ugly mess,

The angry souls in such distress,

But there’s a time when moments can be sweet,

And it feels like someone’s smiling down on me.

Sometimes it feels like I’m all alone, (Most of the time actually I am alone)

That’s all right, don’t give up now I’m almost there.

Never fear though, as Everett can rock with the best of them. If proof is needed, check out Souljacker Part 1, Rags to Rags, or Saturday Morning. If you’re worried that E’s stuff lacks an edge, give a listen to It’s a Motherfucker, not to be confused with Fucker. The former is an angst-filled homage to his dead mother (I’m not kidding), the latter a whimsical look at an ex-girlfriend (wait for the surprise ending).

Interesting tidbit – E’s dad was Hugh Everett III. He was a mathematician and quantum theorist, notable for formulating the many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics in 1957. You know, parallel universes and whatnot. Let’s just say a dummy he wasn’t. E, on the other hand, flunked freshman Math. He channeled his talents in another direction.

E’s early work included two solo albums, A Man Called E (1992) and Broken Toy Shop (1993). The latter were finely crafted pop gems unleashed in the middle of the grunge uprising, thus they went basically unnoticed. They were also recorded before E’s loss of his mom and sister so they are certainly lighter in mood. Note: E also released an independent album in 1985 called Bad Dude in Love, which I’m currently trying to locate on the interweb. When I find it you’ll have a full review.

After those two early albums E formed the Eels. He chose the name Eels because he wanted his “E” work to sit beside his “Eels” work in the CD bin at the record stores. Only later did he realize groups like The Eagles would separate the two. Oops. The Eels discography includes ‘Beautiful Freak” (great album cover) (1996), “Electro-Shock Blues” (1998), “Daisies of the Galaxy” (2000), “Souljacker” (2002), “Shootenanny!” (2003), “Blinking Lights and Other Revelations” (2005), Hombre Lobo (2009), End Times (2010)  Tomorrow Morning (2010) Wonderful Glorious (2013) and The Cautionary Tales of Mark Oliver Everett (2014). Some notes on each, for your perusal:

  • “Beautiful Freak” – Includes the singles “Novacaine for the Soul“, “Susan’s House” and “Your Lucky Day in Hell“. The album is influenced by several musical styles, including grunge and hip-hop. A smooth and flawless studio recording.
  • “Electro-Shock Blues” – This album deals with a lot of pleasant subjects including suicide, death, and cancer. It’s a very dark album. I mean, with songs like “Elizabeth on the Bathroom Floor”, “Going to Your Funeral”, and “The Medication is Wearing Off”, how could it not be? Still, incredible stuff, with some unbelievable black humor. An album straight from E’s broken heart.
  • “Daisies of the Galaxy” – If you’re going to buy one Eels album, this would be the one to get in my opinion. As E stated, “if Electro-Shock Blues was the phone call in the middle of the night that the world doesn’t want to answer, then Daisies of the Galaxy is the hotel wake-up call that says your lovely breakfast is ready.” Great album that includes the hidden track “Mr. E’s Beautiful Blues”. You know, the one with the lyric “Goddamn right it’s a beautiful day.” That one. Another cool tidbit –  the piano E used on this album was the same one Neil Young used on “After the Gold Rush.” Sweet.
  • “Souljacker” – Definitely a heavier feel and more rock-orientated sound on this one. The opening song, “Souljacker, Part 1” is apparently about a serial killer, as E sings, “22 miles of hard road, 33 years of tough luck, 44 skulls buried in the ground, Crawling down through the muck, Oh yeah.” To lighten things up, the song also includes lyrics about incest and a kid planning to kill people at his school. Cool. Check out “Dog-Faced Boy” as well.
  • “Shootenanny” – E stated that there needed to be a word to describe the act of when a guy goes on a shooting rampage. His suggestion was to say the guy went on a “shootenanny”. What can I say, the man’s brain is in a different place. Again, the album is a little rougher, possibly because it was recorded in only 10-days. A personal favorite? An absolute gem called “Rock Hard Times.”
  • “Blinking Lights and Other Revelations” – The Eels first double album, it contained 33 tracks and featured contributions from Tom Waits, Peter Buck of R.E.M. and ex-Lovin’ Spoonful leader John Sebastian. A highlight is Wait’s crying like a baby on the song “Going Fetal.” Trust me, you gotta hear it to truly appreciate it. The Alternative Press said of the album, “A devastatingly beautiful collection of songs, and in some circles, it could be the best album released this year.” And how about this from Entertainment Weekly, “Everett finally delivers the absolute stone masterpiece fans have always known lurked inside his dour heart.” I know, I know, it’s Entertainment Weekly. But still . . .
  • “Hombre Lobo” – Hombre Lobo is desribed as a “concept album about desire.” Long story, but it was also inspired by E’s facial hair. Like I said, long story. I also might add that the album is about a werewolf. I kid you not. Anywho, this album has more of a stripped-down feel than his previous stuff, and as always it’s solid work. Having said that, my favorite song is probably “My Timing is Off“, a mellower tune. If you want harder-edged stuff, lend an ear to ‘Prizefighter” or “Tremendous Dynamite.”
  • “End Times” – This album centers around divorce and aging. I know, not exactly uplifting themes, huh? Having said that, my favorite song on the album is “Little Bird“, an achingly sad song about, well, a little bird . . . and another love lost.
  • “Tomorrow Morning” – This CD actually has a more uplifting feel to it, rare for my boy E. Let’s face it, optimistic he usually ain’t. For a sampling, give a listen to “Spectacular Girl” or “The Man.”
  • “Wonderful Glorious” – A lot like his previous offering, this album is a collection of harder songs, but ultimately more uplifting. I love “On the Ropes.”
  • “The Cautionary Tales of Mark Oliver Everett” – This one immediately became an all-time favorite of mine upon its release. Just an amazing collection of songs, including the incredible “Where I’m At” and “Parallels.” Instant classic.

The Eels released a few other albums, including the live “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning” and “Eels With Strings” as well as an E offshoot album “I Am the Messiah” that he recorded under the name MC Honky. That one was an experience in experimentation that needs to be heard to comprehend because I can‘t begin to describe it. Give a listen to “Like a Duck” for a crazy-ass sampling. There’s also a compilation CD called “Essential Eels – Meet the Eels” that I would pass on if I were you. Instead let me make a 4-CD Super Mix for ya.

You can click here to see the band’s official website. Also, there was BBC documentary about E and his father (E is huge in England) called “Parallel Worlds, Parallel Lives” that you can see a snippet of on YouTube.

Well, there you go. A little background on my favorite band of the 90’s, 00’s, and 10′s. I hope you learned a little and might just give The Eels a listen and a chance. As I mentioned, I will happily burn for anyone who asks an Eels Mix. I’m always eager to spread the word.

*Random Encounter: I was in Cleveland to catch The Eels at The Odeon, and I was cruising down the street in a cab that afternoon. Suddenly, a buddy of mine said, “Hey, is that him?” “Who?”, I wittily asked. “E”, he said. Well, it sure enough was. He was walking down the sidewalk, hoodie over his head, head down, all by his lonesome. I ordered the cab to stop, jumped out, and ran up to him, scaring the living hell out of him in the process (I can be just a little scary if you don‘t know my sparkling and engaging personality). After he realized I wasn’t a madman, we had a short and pleasant conversation. Again, a nice moment for me.

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Leonardo da Vinci created plans for a “mechanized knight,” – a robot-like creation reliant on a system of pulleys. When these plans were found almost 500 years later and built according to Leonardo’s specifications, the design worked perfectly.

 

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Losing Tim

Posted: September 27, 2016 in Death, Inspiration, Life
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Today marks 18-years since I lost one of my best friends, Tim.TimBeckMike

I first met him when I was in high school. I played basketball at Paint Valley and he played for Bishop Flaget. Honestly? At first I hated the guy. If you think trash talking began in the 90’s you’d be mistaken. Tim had it down to a fine art in 1974.

It was one of those deals where you wanted to be mad at the him but it was difficult because you were too busy laughing at him.  Bottom line though, we respected each other.

As time went by we found ourselves running into each other more and more. We both worked at a State Park in the summer, doing odd jobs around the lake like mowing, picking up trash and cleaning bathrooms. It gave us a lot of time to talk about life, sports, politics, and most importantly, music.

Beatles music.

Tim is the only person who I ever felt appreciated the Beatles as much as I did. We’d talk for hours about them, arguing about song lyrics or album covers, the relevance of certain songs, who was the most talented Beatle. I was always a Lennon guy, he leaned towards McCartney. We used to argue about which was the greatest Beatle album. He always said it was Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and I always argued for Abbey Road.  We could never come to an agreement on that one, arguing for hours on end over which was the greatest album.

I remember once when he came up with the idea that he and I should do a radio show. We sat down and had it all planned out. The format, ideas for different shows, everything. It was to be a 3-hour show from 10-1 on Saturday night. We were going to argue about music and different songs, compare cover versions of songs, play Beatles stuff backwards, point out songs that were clearly rip-offs of earlier tunes, we had it all figured out.

Tim knew everyone in town, so it was no problem to arrange a meeting with the head of the local radio station. The only problem was, when we met with the guy he’d already asked around about us. Turns out there was zero chance this guy was going to unleash us on the unsuspecting masses. We even told him we’d make a demo tape for him, but in the end we had no chance.

Seems our reputations had preceded us, damn it.

Tim was honest to a fault. If you didn’t want to hear the truth he wasn’t a guy you wanted to have around. It wasn’t uncommon to run into Tim, and if you hadn’t seen him for awhile he’d say something like, “Jesus Shoe, you’ve gained some weight, right?” or “Man, you’re losing more hair every time I see you.”

You know, pleasantries like that.

Listen, I’m not going to sugarcoat things here. Tim rubbed some people the wrong way. They didn’t appreciate his brand of honest, straightforward candor. As for me, it was exactly what I expected from a friend.

And often times that honesty was exactly what you needed. I remember running into him years ago, after I’d flunked out of college and was working in a local factory. I hated my job, was unhappy with my life, and was generally making everyone around me miserable. Tim took one look at me and said, “You look like hell. What’s wrong?” I told him I was fine but he wasn’t buying it. He said, “No you’re not. You hate yourself because you know you can do better. You need to get out of that fucking factory.”

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And I did.

He was exactly right and I knew that, but sometimes it takes a friend to say it out loud.

Over the years we grew even closer as I became a teacher and coach and he worked as the chairman of our local political party as well as holding other jobs in local and state government. My family had been active in local politics my entire life, so it was one more thing we had in common. We did a lot of work together with local government, and because of Tim I got to meet President Bill Clinton and several other important political people.

Bottom line, he was exactly what I needed – honest with me when I needed it most, pointing out my faults without exception, and accepting me for who I was, warts and all. What more could anyone possibly want in a friend?

It was the early summer of 1999 and I was vacationing in the Outer Banks when I got a call from my father. He said he’d heard some bad news regarding Tim and that I might want to give him a call. I did, and after the usual greetings we had the following conversation:

Me: “Hey, I heard you got some serious news yesterday. Are you OK?”

Tim: “Well, only if you consider being told you have 12-weeks to live serious. Otherwise I’m great.”

Good God. Leave it to him to make light of the most morbid situation imaginable. But seriously, you know what he was doing, right? He was worried about my feelings. He’d heard the worry in my voice was trying to make me feel better.

Think about that. That should tell you all you need to know about him.

Over the next few weeks Tim gradually deteriorated despite seeing the experts and doing all the things recommended medically. It was difficult to watch, and he handled it much better than the rest of us, believe me.

Later that summer we talked him into going to the first game ever played in Cleveland’s new football stadium. It was a preseason contest against the Minnesota Vikings, on August 21st. We knew he didn’t have much time left but he sucked it up and agreed to go. He was down to probably 130 pounds, maybe less, and was feeling awful. In fact, he was spitting blood into a paper cup on the way to the game.

I remember he’d gotten a rather severe haircut before we left, and I kept telling him he looked like a Nazi war prisoner. He was so thin and gaunt, and that combined with the haircut made his ears look twice their normal size. At some point one of our wives started calling him “Wingnut” and it stuck for the rest of the weekend.

After checking in at our hotel, Tim and I got a cab to the stadium. For some reason we only had two tickets so the ladies stayed behind. After arriving we realized our seats were in the nosebleed section, w-a-y up top. It immediately became clear that the walk up there wasn’t going to be easy for Tim. He was already out of breath, and we’d barely started. No way he was going to make it.

Finally we saw an elevator, but it had a “V.I.P. Only” sign on it and was being guarded by a humongous man with a shaved head and arms the size of tree trunks. I walked up and explained the circumstances, hoping the guy would see our situation and cut us a break. But, it was the first game ever played there and the guy was under strict orders. He was having none of it.

Suddenly, Tim was there:

Look at me. I can’t walk up there. It’s obvious I’m dying. Help me out.”

At that point the guy stared at Tim for what felt like an eternity, then nodded his head in the direction of the elevator, punched in a code and said, “Get on.”

And we did. Then Tim looked at me, smiled and said, “Might as well use it to my advantage while I can.”

We finally made our way to our seats and sat down. Now, anybody who knew Tim will tell you he was a flirt with the ladies. He definitely had a weakness where beautiful women were concerned. That said, a few minutes later a hot blonde took the seat right next to him. He glanced over, did a double-take, and said, “Well, hell-ooo. How YOU doin’?

I could only stare and shake my head. Here he was, days away from dying, skinny as hell, hair sticking up all over, spitting blood into a paper cup, just so damn sick.

But still flirting with the girls? Hell yes.

On September 26th my wife and I had a political fundraiser at our house for my cousin Mike, a State Senator at the time. I believe it was a Sunday. There were 25-30 people there, and towards the end of the party Tim walked in. The place grew completely quiet, as many of the people there hadn’t seen him in weeks or even months and were stunned at his appearance. I remember our Scottish Terrier, Poe, coming out of the bedroom and looking at Tim. Poe normally stayed in the bedroom when we had large groups of people over, as he wasn’t crazy about big crowds. This time, however, was different. He walked over to the chair that Tim has just sat down in, jumped up on his lap, and began crying and licking his face. For the rest of Tim’s stay Poe wouldn’t leave his side.

Somehow, Poe knew.

The next evening I got the phone call nobody ever wants to get, and I immediately went over to Tim’s house.

I’ll always be thankful for the fact that I was able to spend a few of his last minutes with him.

I’d lost friends before, but they’d all passed suddenly. They never had a chance to think about what was happening, no time to say goodbye, no time for anger or sadness.

Tim had time for all of those things.

The thing is though, over those last 3-months I never saw him angry. I never saw him play the victim, never saw him feel sorry for himself, never saw him scream at God and ask why. Around me at least, he carried a quiet dignity that was remarkable. I respected that so much.

Once, towards the end, I mentioned this to him. I said that if I were in his position I’d be tempted to avenge very person who ever did me wrong, at the very least tell them how I felt before I left this earth, really let them have it.

His response?

“That’s because you’re an asshole. I am too, but something like this makes you see things a little differently. Why waste time on negative stuff like that? Life’s too short.”

Coming from him at that moment, truer words were never spoken.

I’ve not always been successful, but ever since he said that I’ve tried to not waste time using negative energy in my life. It seems a cliché, but you really do have to try and be the best person you can be every day. Like he said, why waste precious time?

He was only 42 when he died, and that was way too soon. And as difficult as it was to watch him suffer, at least he got to say his goodbyes to those he loved, especially his daughter Becky and his son Mike. That’s a kind of blessing, right?

After Tim’s funeral, we went out with some mutual friends and basically reminisced about him. It was an emotional day, and afterwards I just wanted to get home, spend some time alone and relax.

I went down to my basement where I had a bar, my library, and my music collection. I made a drink, sat down on my couch and laid my head back, just trying to unwind after a trying day. When I finally looked up, though, something caught me eye. A CD had fallen from one of my shelves and was on the floor, right in the open, where it had inexplicably landed right in the middle of the room.

The album was Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. 

It seems that Tim had gotten the last word.

I walked over and picked it up, put the CD in the player, hit play, and listened.

Check out the Lichen Katydid, man. We just discovered this little bro recently. You see, when you don’t hang out in the upper echelons of the food chain and can’t rely on brains and brawn to keep yourself from being eaten, you come up with other tricks like mimicry and camouflage. That’s what the Lichen Katydid do. Oh no he Katydin’t. Anyhoo, Lichen Katydid.

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Dude got trucked, man.

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There 'tis. See the antennae?

There ’tis. See the antennae?

Did you know there are practically no protocols in place to prevent a sitting US president from unilaterally ordering a nuclear strike?

It’s true.

The idea is that America’s nuclear arsenal must be equipped for fast deployment to properly deter an attack. The president must therefore have the ability to launch a strike quickly and without delay. The Secretary of Defense is required to verify the order, but cannot legally veto it.

As then-Vice President Dick Cheney in 2008:

“The president could launch a kind of devastating attack the world’s never seen. He doesn’t have to check with anybody. He doesn’t have to call the Congress. He doesn’t have to check with the courts. He has that authority because of the nature of the world we live in.”

Chilling, really.

You see, the President is always accompanied by a military aide carrying a ” Nuclear Football” with launch codes for nuclear weapons. The football is a metal briefcase carried in a black leather jacket. The package weighs around 45-pounds. A small antenna protrudes from the bag near the handle. You can see it in the photo up top.

However, there is a scenario that would allow the Secretary of Defense to refuse to relay the order and use his codes to launch –  theoretically, he could make a quick call to the Cabinet and Congress and report that the President had gone bonkers. The Cabinet could then declare the President unfit in a letter to Congress.

Slim chance that would happen, though, so there’s that.

Anyway, food for thought, huh?

When I posted the original “Remnants of Old Route 50” blog I assumed maybe 5-people would care. Turns out it’s one of the most viewed in the history of this site. Who knew? Anyway, what you’ll see below is an old tunnel that went under Old Route 50, about a mile east of Bourneville on the left. If you turn into where they have the motocross races and take a quick right and go about 100-yards you can find it. Pretty cool.

PS: Coming soon will be photos of Old Route 50 west of Bainbridge.

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If I’ve said it once I’ve said it a million times. nobody writes the headlines like me, amirite? I mean, who couldn’t click on that title?

Listen, I always knew something was up with Matt Damon. Dude has always acted like he knew something the rest of us didn’t, ya know?

Anyway, as we all know, Matt Damon looks like this:

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And here’s a recently discovered photo. It was taken in 1964.

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Yep, that’s Matt Damon alright. He definitely traveled through time or doesn’t age. Bro probably has wives in every decade for the past five-hundred years.

Anyhoo, Matt Damon? You, my man, have been busted.

Peaceful.

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In 2016, North Korea accidentally leaked its DNS data, showing they only have 28 “.kp” domains. In comparison, there are 10 million “.uk” domains.

 

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So Minnesota Vikings running back and noted child-beater Adrian Peterson has gone to Twitter to preach to the masses about the horrors of child abuse.

Oh no he din’t.

Yo Adrian, didn’t you see what happened to Ray Lewis just a couple days ago?

Yep, the Trolls of Twitter were having none of it, calling out Mr. Peterson with the vengeance of a thousand hell demons.

Here’s Adrian’s original, unfortunate tweet:

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Alas, it was a poor decision.

Here’s the first retort:

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Followed by:

Didn’t you abuse your son to the point of seeing blood? And you only got probation?

And then:

Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you get probation for beating the shit out of your 4-year old son?

Oh boy.Then along comes this gem:

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And finally, you always have the one guy who sort of misses the entire point and cuts right to the heart of the matter, hitting where it hurts the most:

You’re not good anymore.

Ouch. That one had to hurt. Bottom line? Don’t mess with The Twitter, boys.

 

The Clowns Are Coming

Posted: September 24, 2016 in Fears, Humor, Things I Hate
Tags:

ABC News: Days after several reports of spooky clowns alarming residents in California, pranksters in similar costumes are popping up in other states.

Sgt. Tom Weger of the Fishers Police Department in Indiana thinks his town is dealing with a copycat.

Chills, man.

Chills, man.

“We have had over the past week three calls of a suspicious person dressed in a creepy clown outfit,” Weger told ABC News today. “We believe it’s just one individual dressing up as a clown and kind of creeping people out a bit.”

The reports come after similar sightings this month in Bakersfield, California, and the launch of social media accounts using the name “Wasco Clown,” showing a scary clown posing at different locations in Bakersfield and nearby cities.

Fishers, Indiana, isn’t alone in the new sightings, days before Halloween residents of Albuquerque, New Mexico, were recently spooked when a scary clown posed for a photo in front of a local restaurant and posted it on social media. But the clown, Tickles, told ABC affiliate KOAT-TV in Albuquerque that he didn’t mean any harm by the scary photo.

And clowns have also reportedly appeared in Jacksonville, Florida, popping up on security footage.

The World Clown Association says such spooky sightings are giving clowns a bad rap.

“People dressed as horror clowns are not ‘real clowns,'” president-elect Randy Christensen said. “They are taking something innocent and wholesome and perverting it to create fear in their audience.”

Lordy.

You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you? The clowns are coming.

For years, clowns built up goodwill throughout the world, appearing at birthday parties, circuses and carnivals, making balloon animals and squirting people with whatever the hell comes out of that flower on their chest. Some even appeared on television under names like Bozo and Clarabell. We even had our own local clown, Flippo.

flippo-cu-jpg

Flippo.

Flippo was nightmare fuel, man.

Famous actors even portrayed clowns. Respected men like Red Skelton and Soupy Sales had clown characters as a part of their act.

Clowns were everywhere, man. And now, this. The true nature of clowns is emerging.

A few of us have always known something was amiss. Something was missing behind the make-up and painted-on smiles.

Something awful lurked there.

Perhaps the trouble all started with Willard Scott, goofball weatherman for the Today Show. He was a clown, you know. Dude never seemed right.

Or maybe it was John Wayne Gacy, serial killer of at least 33 young boys in Chicago.

He buried the boys under his house. Part-time job? Clown.

And now the clowns are tired of pretending, weary of playing out the fraudulent pretense of being friendly, nose-honking fun-makers.

Yes, the clown’s true nature is emerging, and it is horrifying. The clowns ain’t playin’, man.

Soon, Ronald McDonald will be revealed as a poisoner of Big Macs, perhaps the murderer of Mayor McCheese.

ronald-mcdonald

Good God.

The Hamburglar will be found strangled in his sleep, with strands of bright red hair found at the scene.

Facts will be unearthed involving Bozo, the information unspeakable and abhorrent.

Yes, the true nature of clowns will soon be revealed to all, and it won’t be funny.

Note: I still can’t wrap my head around a World Clown Association. Just too terrible to contemplate.

Note 2: Say what you want, Tickles the Clown. I’m not buying it.

Note 3: Remember when I was threatened by an angry clown? That was pretty scary. Hope he doesn’t read this.

Note 4: I stupidly clicked on a “Clowns Near You” link while researching for this article, and while I was terrified the answer would be “right behind you”, this dude popped up. Calls himself Mr. Bugaboo. Sweet God Almighty.bugaboo


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