An Epilog or a Memorian Maybe - Take Your Pick

A few days ago I found out a best friend from my youth passed away back in 2018. He spent his last days in hospice and died of some kind of cancer. I had not physically interacted with him in over forty years. And in that forty years we had only one conversation over the phone in 2010. I wrote about our conversation in a blog post, "The Phone Call".  It shines some light on the complicated relationship we had with each other as young men.

In the 1960's and 70's we shared the six or seven years in a life young boys spend floundering their way to almost adulthood. Neither Jim nor I made this transition easy on anyone, including ourselves. We were the troublemakers and bad influences our friends' parents warned their children about. I remember resenting it then, but I will own it now. We asked for trouble, we found trouble and sadly some of our dumb ass friends got caught up in our madness. We each had our own reasons for being so angry, but angry teenagers we were.

The adventures we cooked up, the teen aged drinking, the drugging that we participated in, and the shared unwillingness of both of us to sit up straight and fly right ended with the two of us being sent to Charlotte Hall Military School in southern Maryland. Jim went a year before I did. When the Montgomery County school system booted me out, I petitioned my parents to send me to the same school Jim was going to. I figured I would have at least one friend.

We weren't total losers. We just couldn't stop pushing the boundaries we felt trapped in. We got involved in stupidity that today I just shake my head at and wonder how we did not kill ourselves. We got away with so much and still ended up living full lives. Well Jim dying at age 67 may not be considered a "full life"to most folks, but let me just say that anyone who really knew him knows he was lucky to have lasted that long, which the begs the question, how is it I am still breathing? 

So I am wondering why I am so focused on a friendship that lasted barely a decade fifty plus years ago that ended with a serious bad taste in both our mouths. I guess I am not so much sad at Jim's passing, but maybe more that I wish I had done more to mend the rift between us. I probably will not miss him in the future, but I sure will miss the friendship we had and then ruined.

Rest in Peace old friend. Be kinder to yourself wherever you are now.

_______________________

   I found this tune the night I found out Jim had passed. Coincidence? Who cares? If the tune fits, play it.   "Too Old to Die Young" - Brother Dege

Mother Russia is an Evil Whore

So I just caught more news regarding claims that Russia has created forced labor/concentration camps and are putting displaced Ukrainians to work in them. What's being spread on the various media outlets, does not appear to be accompanied with strong evidence, just rumor and innuendo at this point.. I have not seen any images yet, just claims made.

Given the ruthlessness Putin has exhibited so far in all his bad behavior going back to how he treated Chechnya in 1999, I would not put it past him. He has already sanctioned the murder and rape of Ukrainian civilians. It is not too much of a leap to believe he would also include work/concentration camps. 

Putin is nothing but an ex-communist thug who is determined to own another piece of land he feels is rightfully Russia's. And if he has to do it with scorched earth tactics, he will. His lousy record is filled with documented atrocities and blatant lies about those evil deeds and leads me to think the reports of forced labor and conscription might be true. But I will hold my opinion until more experts speak up.

I have no doubt however that a news cycle spin machine is also working overtime in the Ukrainian media to put its own twist on the war and the events that take place inside it. That is to be expected. Every country is going to to put a positive spin on the news, especially when positive news is what bolsters much of the Rah Rah support for the issue being reported on. But, and this is a big but. In my opinion, so far the Ukrainian reports from their military and governing bodies have been closer to believable than the torrent of outrageous and shameless lies created by Putin's propaganda machine. 

It is one thing to twist a story some to reflect better notions in the targeted audience than to totally warp the truth until there is not even one grain of truth left in the report. And no, I no longer nor really ever did give Putin or any other Russian leader the benefit of the doubt. Russia is historically a country of liars controlling a population who loved to be lied to. Mother Russia is an evil whore who will promise anything, do anything, and lie about anything to get her way.

My rule so far in this awful situation in Ukraine is to mostly trust the war narrative coming out of Kyiv and listen to the Russian bullshit at least, just to see how far out in left field they are.

I have refrained from commenting on the war in Ukraine in recent weeks. Every day I come away from reading about another new horror Ukrainians have to deal with and all my years of hatred for anything to do with war boils up and I feel sick. For my own peace of mind, I will continue to not post as much about Ukraine as I probably should, but hey, if its turning me into a basket case, then I am no good to anyone, not even myself.

As ever, I will do my best to "Keep it 'tween the ditches". I hope you will too.

_________________________

Now it is time to pick some music for this post. It seems picking a tune here should be one based on emotion rather than pure anger. I choose this Ukrainian folk song sung by a Ukrainian who left his band touring in the US to return to Ukraine to fight the Russians. Not sure of the name of the song, and I couldn't understand a single lyric, but it brought tears.

Anyway - Here is Andriy Khlyvnyuk 

Our Way or the Highway

About fifteen years ago or so, the GOP began to consolidate some of  the last fringe groups who had been hanging onto the edges of Conservatism these past fifty years. Where once these groups had been written off as safe havens for nut jobs and  Right Wing lunatics, the breakaway Tea Party proved ultra conservative lunacy did have legs and the GOP better pay attention. They did and managed to bring those wackos into their fold. That was the final death knell of the Moderate Republican leader for probably a rather long distant future and marked the birth of a nastier rank and file that  has surprisingly managed to become the voice of the party in the last decade.

Where before the GOP  appeared to not have been woke yet and now they were, well, this process actually had begun many years ago, some say when President Nixon resigned on August 8, 1974. That was the beginning of the end of the moderate Republican and the birth of a new nastier, self serving type of Conservatism less likely to willingly share power with the Left and more likely to only favor what made the Right more powerful along with the rich and powerful who backed them. An "Our way, or the Highway" type of mentality.

Many Southern Democrats were angry about the Civil Right's legislation of the 1960's. They looked for someone who would carry their weight in the future. They did not seem interested in actual fixes, they just wanted the promises. Ronald Reagan gladly stepped up. He was the perfect candidate at the perfect time. He was not too bright but he was charming while he made promises his administration had no intention on keeping.

Two terms as governor of California during the chaotic Sixties gave Reagan plenty of time to mold his racist and xenophobic beliefs into rhetoric that was more palatable to a broader cross section of the population. He made grand promises, but instead of meeting those promises honestly, his claimed policies more often than not were followed by positive action and played out in results directly in opposition to the promises made on the campaign trail.

He fired all the Air Controllers and put a final nail in the organized labor movement. It would be thirty five years before any meaningful unionization happened again. And in the meantime, the minimum wage crawled and clawed its way to the current level it has been at for the last thirteen years. 

Reagan got away with treason by selling arms to Iran, an avowed terrorist state enemy in order to finance his war in Nicaragua. To ease and lubricate the supply network, a wink, wink policy of not insisting the CIA create any definitive anti drug smuggling rules was unofficially put to work. Many of the pilots who flew the planes south filled with arms, then returned from Contra country with drugs. Probably the worst kept secret of the 1980's. Reagan's crew headed by Ollie North successfully pulled off some of the most damaging treason in US history.  (* Iran Contra )

One of Reagan's big promises when he ran for his first term was fighting Crime. He assured us that if we went after the illegal drug trade, crime would drop like a rock. Yet, he and his crew were already a major cog in the illegal drug trade that was fueling the drug epidemic he claimed he wanted to eradicate. 

Before his first term was over the normal amount of hypocrisy that accompanies any politician or party was taken to a new height. There were no longer anymore checks and balances on how hypocritical one could be. Politicians began to shrug it off instead of shrink in disgrace when called out in a lie.

While this is going on, the nation was raising new generations under this cloud of unethical and morally bankrupt shenanigans that were so so obvious. The leaders of the Right began to hold their ears, cover their eyes as they forced one big lie after another onto the public, who naively thought at least some honesty and integrity still existed among the leaders of the Right.. Calling them out as liars and con men did not matter anymore. We Americans were well into our period of re-education regarding the political ethics we should expect now as opposed to the political ethics our parents grew up on.

During this reconstruction of our political landscape, Americans also stepped up from Consumers consuming based primarily out of need to consumers who consumed just because they could. Buying stuff became more than a fad, it became a duty. The normal range of greed that used to be the rule was now out of the barn and going crazy. We became the disposable society who could not care less what happened in Washington DC as long as the cheap, disposable lifestyle we had come to expect continued unabated.

Flash forward thirty five or so years to where we are today and the populations supporting the Right are made up of folks like the woman to the left; Many of these new "conservatives" cannot add and apparently own mindsets only one of their kind can understand. They seem to have little knowledge based on facts, only conspiracy theories and rumor. The rest of the Right who know their platform is bullshit, do not care. They are winning elections with numb and dumb. Why rock the boat?

As an aside, can anyone explain to me what this woman is trying to say with her sign? I know her math is flawed, but what the Hell is her message?

So what does this all have to do with Trump? Hmm.............

Trump is not the cause of all this recent polarization, hate and discontent the Right is so full of today. He is the poster child of the movement. If it hadn't been him, it would have been someone else.Trump is the result of the fifty years of changes and adjustments to the aims and goals of the GOP. 

He may not be exactly what many on the Right wanted, but he fills the stands with safe votes for anything the Right wants. Trump is now providing what the GOP has always wanted, a rank and file who do not question their leaders and frankly do not think much at all. They follow directions. The perfect voter is right there sporting a sign with bad math and no clue about what they are trying to say. 

The Right has finally cluster fucked into existence a political world they feel at home in. They no longer need to think up policies to govern with. Now the lazy, greedy bastards only have to prevent the Left from what it wants and keep their own minions full of fear of things that go bump in the night. And now they, without guilt, use any lie, co-opt any song or slogan they want and claim it as theirs. There are finally no rules or decorum. They can be shameless, hypocritical and possibly will soon be able to shoot a lib on Main Street, East Gish Florida and get away with it. 

What a great Country!

Later,

______________________________

 Because the GOP and the Right have no shame, I am sharing a song they claimed for themselves without permission or respect to the songwriter who is a hard nosed Progressive. Here is Neil Young's "Rockin in the Free World". 

 

Snooze, You Lose, Now I Got Nothing

An hour ago I was pumped, primed, and ready to rip off 500 words on something or other I felt at the time was so important it was all I thought about until I sat down here in front of the blank screen. As if on cue, my mind took the blank screen's suggestion and followed suit. I sit here now wallowing in my usual state of mind; Lights are on and again Mike's not home.

What is really irritating, is what was a momentary moment of brilliance that was bound to astound, amaze and possibly create weak knees somewhere out there in the far reaches of the internet ether continued to tease me with nose thumbing as they moved along to the next clown who might be ready to take advantage of such awesome reflections, conjectures and observations. 

In seventy years of taking up space, I certainly have had enough twinges of regret after I did not do this or failed to do that when the moment came to fish or cut bait. However, for each opportunity that knocked and I was not home or hid behind the couch until Opportunity stopped knocking and found some other poor slob to bother, I am fairly certain I did jump on most of the snooze you lose moments that passed my way. I certainly peppered my life with interesting times, situations and strangers who most days made me thankful I had met them.

There were some notable regrets though. Some regrets came instantly and other regrets had to mature over time in order for me to feel their full magnitude. The slow burning regrets were the ones that hurt the worst, had the biggest impact, left the deepest scars. Thankfully, the instant regrets only resulted in trips to the ER, apologizing profusely, or digging into a pocket to throw good money after bad.

But honestly as I consider regrets along with snoozing and losing; overall I would have to say that the only regret I have is I did not jump into the frying pan more often than I did. However, given my my checkered past I will most likely continue snoozing and losing on a semi regular basis.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ................................................

______________________

Struggled this time finding music I thought fit the post. Growing frustrated, I picked a tune that always makes me smile. It is a medley by IZ of "Over the Rainbow" and "What a Wonderful World". And this tune sort of fits because no matter how deep a regret is, play this tune and perspective will return. It is indeed a Wonderful World we live in.

Image from "Ukulele Magazine" 

Boycotting

Florida is winning by a nose over Texas. They would be neck and neck if I had not lived through some semi dark years in Florida in the 1960s. Yeah, I had to pick Florida when the following question showed up on my Facebook feed.

What are you boycotting until the day that you die?

I shot from the hip, gave a knee jerk answer, spoke before I thought when I answered "Florida". Now, a couple of hours later after scrutinizing my reasons for and my reasons against voting Florida, I realize that this knee jerked the answer does a fine job of reflecting my current attitude regarding the Sunshine State.

Making declarations that one cannot back out of without some redface time, well, that has never bothered me. Hell, I remember declaring in Second Grade that I would never ever kiss a girl, and well, that final, no doubt about it proclamation lasted until fourth grade when I kissed Tall Lois. No tongue mind you. I had no clue we were supposed to stuff our tongues in each other's mouth. If I had known that then, I most assuredly would have kept the faith with my proclamation through sixth grade at the least. 

The stupidity of Florida's majority party and their Dumber than dirt governor, Ron DeSantis along with the brain dead population that gave them their power is but some garnish for the longer lists of whine's I have about the state that gave us the word "Cracker". 

My family went through some internal strife when we lived there in the early 1960's. Later in 1977, when I was driving for Black Oak Arkansas, we had a day off in central Florida after a concert in Orlando. The crew and the band all went to the unfinished Disney World. We were busted for smoking joints on their aerial trams and all of us were banned for life. Florida was where I learned the harsh lessons of racism and segregation. It was the first time I felt shame for being white. 

The photo to the left was taken on March 27, 1964. It is of the Civil Rights demonstration in front of the capitol which my parents specifically told me not to attend. I went anyway and I was shocked at how nasty white people could be.

So, I will do what I can to not give Florida any more of my time, money, or presence.

Texas was a close second. But Texas holds fond memories of my time when I worked out of Dallas hauling Rock n Roll tours in the mid 1970's. I had many insane and wonderful times laying over in the Big D waiting for my next tour. I also have family there and a friend or two hanging out in or around Brownwood, Texas, about 170 miles South West of Dallas. But have no doubt I consider the political make up of Texas as much of an insanity as Florida.

I generally do a decent job of honoring my self imposed boycotts. I did not enter a Wall Mart for over thirty years. But then I did and so what? They did not get a penny out of my pocket for thirty years. That was what I consider a personal best boycott. At the moment I cannot think of any boycotts other vowing to never vote for a Republican again until they smarten up. Hmm.... Chances are that in the years I have left, they won't. They seem well entrenched in stupidity at the moment and we all know that current slogan, "You can't fix Stupid." Their continued quest to prove that point is testimony.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ..................................

__________________________

Musical pick today is a tune I found that gives me one more reason to look unkindly on the State of Florida. In 1978 in Jacksonville I broke up with my then "on the road" girl friend. Gave her a bus ticket back to her home in San Diego. She had been with me for several months. Anyway here is "So Far From Memphis", by Easton Corbin. For some reason this song reminded me of that moment in time.

Reading

Another question post passed through my feed on Facebook awhile ago. I donated 2 or 3 seconds of my ever present poor attention span and considered its worth. If the posts don't grab me by then, I'm quickly a scrolling fool again. This one stopped long enough that now an hour later I am still thinking about it.

What Books Have Changed Your Life?

At first I followed directions and tried to think of the books that might have changed my life. In my mind I began to line up previous books I had read in my past. More than few held up their hands, some even shook those hands while screaming, "Pick me, Oooh ooh pick me".

As the line became longer and the titles grew more loudly anxious to be at the top of the list, I decided there was no one book I could point to that changed my life. I can only imagine their disappointment and all the expletives mumbled  as they returned to the back rows they ran down from.

Not being able to answer the question quickly and with assurance that this was the book does not mean there was no book. It means that I was caught flat footed by the question with no quick answer at the ready.

I made coffee, finished emptying the dishwasher and considered what I would surprise my wife with for dinner. I smiled then at the thought of me cooking. It doesn't happen as often as it should I guess and when it does, thankfully, I often pull it off. It would be a bitch to cook and fail. I'd be a real sad sack then. ....

Back on track Mike........ Jeezum.

I decided that it was not a book but learning to read a book that changed my life. A fact I have taken for granted these past 70 years. Of all the things I learned, how to swim, drive a car, and how to properly wear a holster when playing cowpokes and indian folks, reading is without a doubt the most valuable tool I picked up to help me make it from the cradle to the grave. 

But if I was cornered and had to pick the one book that changed my life, ................... It would be the first book I read out loud for one or both of my parents. According to the story my mom told me, I read "Little Engine" out loud before I was four. I think though, the truth of it might be that I had memorized the text after having it read to me multiple times multiple times before I was asked to read it myself. And again maybe not.

Keep it 'tween the ditches .............................................

_____________________

Music for this post is "Paperback Writer" - the Beatles. Enjoy the memories.

My Excuse Index

It's another dreary rainy day in April. 39' F. Just enough rain coming down to make me wish I had found that umbrella or rain coat before I went out with Maggie for her morning pee. Any outside plans I may have had for today should have been attempted yesterday before I put them off to accomplish today. I was sure I would be in more of a nose to the grindstone state of mind on a Tuesday than on a Monday, the least productive day of any week.

Of course I failed to and still fail to acknowledge that every day in my life now is not a Monday, nor any other day of the week. Now days, every day is nothing but another day of retirement. And that is fine. But with every day holding the same significance , trying to use excuses for my slothly ways based on traditional working man excuses falls flat. Again, that's okay. I just invoke one of the new rules I have developed because of retirement. There are no rules now, I'm retired. ............ Yeah, I am good with that.

Does this mean I no longer have any obligations and duties? Of course not. I have just adjusted my excuse index to reflect my new station in Life. If there is work to be done, in case of an emergency or even just because I do not feel like doing it, there needs to be a work around work that will be there the waiting for whenever, so why push so hard? After all Life is now but a really long weekend.

Nothing like enjoying the guilt of not doing what you promised yourself you would do.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ...................................

______________________

My music choice for this post has to be "Lazy", by Deep Purple. Saw them at Constitution Hall in DC, 1971 - I think. 

  

A Mom Story

I have enough documented and mis-remembered memories to fill a memoir several hundred of pages long if I wished to do that. The jury is still out on the quality, but there is no doubt my itch to write about my trips down memory lane has been a major focal point of my writing.

Many memories are brief flashes I often don't even have time to think, "I ought to write about that". Others are memories passed to me by family and friends. Some were so popular with family or friends, the incidents were common go to good times to relive at dinner, on a road trip, or in the evening after dinner with whatever liquid refreshment one usually had after dinner as they relaxed in the comfort of over stuffed furniture. 

My Mom was a good story teller. One story she told numerous times always made me laugh no matter that I knew it by heart. It was about her and my older brothers.

First, I think I need to lay some background here. 

Mom was a proud 5th generation Californian; or was 4th generation? Regardless, her forebears were among the earliest settlers in that area before the Gold Rush. Her parents were members of the movers and shakers in the San Francisco Bay area. The social scene of her youth was probably like that of any area in the rest of the country that had a sizable upper middle class. Traditions were adhered to that had begun years earlier.

One tradition were Saturday afternoon strolling tours by well heeled ladies wearing the latest fashions through the cluster of department stores and the streets of downtown San Francisco. While purchases were sometimes made, it was more about being seen and seeing what the other women were flaunting this week. Often they would gather on corners or store entrances in small groups and exchange polite niceties while smiling at snarky remarks made at the expense of those ladies not present. The younger women with children often gussied up the brood and dragged them downtown with them. After all, well dressed, well behaved children were the perfect accessories to have in tow to really impress the judgmental grand dames who controlled the social scene in the area. Getting a smile or a nod from them was what moved the younger ladies up in standing. Often the day was topped off with High Tea at the Palace Hotel.

My mother's first husband was a Navy Captain who was busy fighting WWll out in the Pacific somewhere. Mom moved back home with her parents while he was deployed. Naturally, she picked up the habits she had been weaned  on and often trekked into San Francisco for the Saturday ladies parades. She would often clean up my two older brothers and drag them along. 

My brothers, at ages six and seven, looked like twins. My mom loved dressing them in matching outfits. One Saturday she had the boys clothed in recently purchased matching sailor outfits, complete with the classic white dixie cup hats. Off to San Francisco they went. 

After parking and making sure the two little punks were still clean and worthy, she began her Saturday afternoon strut, a boy firmly gripped in each hand. Their first destination was The Emporium, a huge department store on Market Street. Somewhere along the way, they encountered a man who had a disability. He dragged one foot, one of his arms hanged useless and his face was contorted. Joe and Doug were very interested in this guy; so much so Mom said she had to stop and fill them in with what she thought was the man's problem without being mean. The boys apparently accepted her explanation and the three of them entered The Emporium. 

As they began the approach to the escalator, two older women were walking towards Mom.  As they got closer, my mom heard one say to her buddy, "What a cute set of twins. Isn't a shame though about the one."

Mom turned to look at Joe, my oldest brother. He was dragging one foot with an arm drooping and his face was contorted with his tongue hanging out. Mom didn't hesitate. She gave him a slap across his mouth and said, "Christ on a crutch Joey, straighten up and fly right." 

The two dowagers gasped and hurried on their way. 

My other brother Doug was grinning from ear to ear until Mom gave him the stare. Having straightened out her little punks, she regained her proud composure and returned to her strut. 

_____________________________

I picked 1973's "Super Strut", by Eumir Deodado. It is definitely strutting music..... One of the all time great jams from the 1970s. Turn it up to wow!

Ban the Books

There was a time in this country when a book being banned was front page news. The story and its follow up often outlasted the initial 24 hour news cycle. Those days are gone now. Books being banned today are just another news clip fighting for air time with hundreds, if not thousands of other insane events. It becomes just another contributor to the deafening background noise that swirls around all of us today.

Of the thousands of catastrophic events, man made and otherwise, that are in play on any given day, the leaders of the Right force their gas lit messages into the public square. Pro Choice v Pro Birth is the poster child of the inane and stupid issues at the core of the Right's effort to control the messages that we take in. Little of the distractions they jam down our throats are ever as important to all of us as it is to their goal of taking control using every weapon they have in their sleazy quiver of tricks. 

Concerns about book banning, burning and other closed culture acceptances of the silencing of Free Speech should be at the top of the lists of indignities we all have filed in our brain pans. Instead many of us find it more important to waste valuable time and resources legislating away a woman's right to choose, legislating what educators can and cannot teach their children, and creating legislation to squeeze certain groups out of their access to the voting booth. And yes, the same group of Right Wing assholes want to decide through legislation what can be read at the public library.

In my opinion, the right to read any goddamn thing I want is as important if not more so than any other right to Free Speech. Controlling as much of the messaging we absorb through the various media outlets inhibits our ability to think freely and therefore we are then unable to coherently speak freely. 

Critical thinking needs massive amounts of information from everywhere to be effective. Putting up roadblocks to that ability is what the Republican Party and the Right wants. They should be ashamed of themselves, but they are to busy frothing at the mouth slurping their party's kool aid and at the moment they cannot get their heads out of the party's ass long enough to see just what their leadership is doing to all of us, them included.

Rant over ............ Later ....................................

_____________________________

 Found this little ditty "Ban the Books" very quickly. It fits with the post better than my post fits with the post.

Women and the Bible

I have been trying to get back up to some kind of writing speed after a month long furlough. Started and did not complete more than a few posts, long comments and extra involved meaningless drivel. 200 hundred words or so in, I would run out of steam or decide that my ego did not need this kind of stroking, so I would smoke another doob and watch Perry Mason on the tube instead.

And then we entered the religious season that comes during the showers and flowers of April. Rather than follow the logical flow or annual rebirth that happens every Spring for everthing else under the SUN, this holy event celebrates and neatly ties up the oh so believable tale of a man born of a virgin who died even more believably on a cross and then 3 days later clawed his way out of the grave to be resurrected, and flown first class to somewhere out there in a nether world we cannot see. With this annual celebration of death by Crucifixion, my anti-religious hackles always begin itching to be free again. 

I have mellowed tremendously over the years. I don't get as wound up as I used to. If people want to idolize an idea that is nothing but a mealy mouthed collection of excuses for treating others poorly, then hey, who am I to complain? I have successfully shut them out for the most part....finally.

Then this Facebook meme I found about women in the Bible rekindled my flame some. After all, I am a card carrying limp wristed gay loving pink commie loser unicorn molesting progressive. I can only resist the low hanging fruit the Bible offers for so long. It only makes sense. Right? Hell, if I was a Winger, I would not have even noticed this meme because I would be too busy trying to find snicker worthy meme's that own the Libs and put them in their rightful place. Nothing brings a smile to a Winger face than owning a Lib by breakfast. Even if the Libs don't get it, as long as they do, that is all that counts. Right?

So we have this book purported to have been created through conversations with a god by holier than thou advocates thousands of years ago. And ever since it seems none of the rules have changed, only the versions of this made up Truth have. The lack of updates has created some difficult images and rules to continue to justify as coming from on high. Apparently Slavery is still found to be okay within the pages of the Bible. So is the killing of children and disobedient housewives. 

Of all the targets for God's wrath that are found in the Bible, specifically the Old testament, it seems errant women are at the top of the list, beginning in Genesis with Eve enticing Adam to take a bite of the apple God told them not to nibble on. Apparently it was as difficult back then to keep those crazy ladies under control as it is today.

I think one good argument that the Bible is a book of bullshit would be the implication that our chauvinistic god is a smart god. If he was so smart, why did he even give women brains? Seems to me it might have been a whole lot easier if he made women mindless birthing machines who could cook and clean. Lettin them think about lower deck status only asks for trouble. If he really is the good ole boy rifle rack mental giant his advocates contend, then he screwed up big time. What a maroon.

But no, the solution in the Bible was turning women into property. They are stoned to death for  laying with men not their husband, while in many cases, the man ends up paying someone 50 shekels and gives someone not clearly identified a donkey and their wanton ways are given a free ride. 

Bottom line is just  like I cannot understand how any American woman can be a card carrying Republican, I find it even more difficult to understand how any woman, American or otherwise, can embrace a religion that supports women being considered nothing but child bearing, house keeping chattel. It really does boggle my mind. I have caused myself head cramps thinking about it. 

But then I take some breaths. I remember that our world exists mostly on incongruity and not common sense. I realize we would rather struggle and make Life tougher for anyone else except ourselves. I will remember that self gratification and sexual dominance is our stock in trade. And suddenly it all makes sense again. 

Evolution takes some time and we are not even infants yet.

Later Gators .......................................

___________________________________

I picked a song that reinforced the lessons my mom pounded into my head about women. If memory serves it was my first lesson outside the home when I heard it in 1967. I was 15. Respect by Aretha Franklin: this is a version from a concert in 1991.