Meme Abuse

Posted in Politics, The Internet, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on August 21, 2013








Last Sunday, PG had his peace of mind torpedoed by a tacky graphic on facebook. Some would say to just ignore it. While this is a good course of action sometimes, it will leave you unable to appreciate the good messages that are broadcast. It can be tough to tell the difference between the good, and the bad. This post is a proposal for responsibility on the part of the meme monger.

This comment was made:
” I respectfully suggest you read the book or at least a precis before you opine on this issue Luther. You do not know the facts and your ignorance of them is painful to me.” Maybe the person who posted the graphic is the guilty party. When you post something, you should be prepared to back up your statements. You should supply easy to navigate links, to show people where you get your information. The messenger should do a bit of heavy lifting. It is the responsibility of the meme monger to back up the claims that are made.
If someone challenges what you say, they are taking you seriously. This is a compliment, whether you realize it or not. When someone asks for a link, this means that they want some evidence that the statement presented is, in fact, the truth. It is easy to say, oh that’s just so and so talking. When you ask for evidence, it means you are paying attention. (A side note: If you are going to insult someone, do not start your statement by saying “I respectfully suggest”.)

The proliferation of memes is a problem. There are so many graphics with a message, and it is so easy to share. Thought is not required. The deplorable graphic quality of many memes is another issue. This post is about the message, not the medium. Pictures for today’s graphic extravaganza are from “The Special Collections and Archives,Georgia State University Library”.









Coat Of Many Colors

Posted in Music, Politics, Religion by chamblee54 on August 20, 2013

This feature was originally posted last august. The first part was about the 2012 election. At the time where Mr. Romney was taken seriously. Out of kindness to the readers, that part has been left out today. The pictures, from The Library of Congress, are a year older. Dolly Parton is a year younger.

When PG saw this, he thought about the song, “Coat of many colors”. The b side was by Porter Wagoner, “Coat of many sequins”. COMC is about a woman who is too poor to buy her little girl a coat at the store, so she makes a quilt. The other kids make fun of her, but little Dolly knows that the coat is really made of love. Mitt Romney never had a coat of many colors.
The song talks about a story in the Bible. PG had heard about the story, but didn’t remember the details. He must have been daydreaming in Sunday School when that story was taught. With the help of google, Genesis 37 appears, as if by magic. Pass the popcorn.

2 These are the generations of Jacob. Joseph, being seventeen years old, was feeding the flock with his brethren; and the lad was with the sons of Bilhah, and with the sons of Zilpah, his father’s wives: and Joseph brought unto his father their evil report.
3 Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his children, because he was the son of his old age: and he made him a coat of many colours.
4 And when his brethren saw that their father loved him more than all his brethren, they hated him, and could not speak peaceably unto him.

Ok, hold on for a minute. Israel had at least two wives. The Biblical definition of marriage must be between a man and two women.
The story gets a bit weird here. Joseph has this dream, where he becomes the boss hog brother. The other brothers decide something needs to be done, that Joseph needs to die. Reuben tries to help Joseph, and has a plan to save him. Joseph is stripped of the coat of many colors, and placed in a pit, with no water. Before Reuben can sneak Joseph out of the pit, a camel caravan comes by. Twenty pieces of silver change hands, and Joseph is sold into slavery. The brothers decide to pull a cover up, and make it look like Joseph was dead. Reuben made another sandwich.

31 And they took Joseph’s coat, and killed a kid of the goats, and dipped the coat in the blood;
32 And they sent the coat of many colours, and they brought it to their father; and said, This have we found: know now whether it be thy son’s coat or no.
33 And he knew it, and said, It is my son’s coat; an evil beast hath devoured him; Joseph is without doubt rent in pieces.
34 And Jacob rent his clothes, and put sackcloth upon his loins, and mourned for his son many days.
35 And all his sons and all his daughters rose up to comfort him; but he refused to be comforted; and he said, For I will go down into the grave unto my son mourning. Thus his father wept for him.

Guilty Party

Posted in Trifecta, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on August 19, 2013


















Posted in Georgia History, Music by chamblee54 on August 19, 2013








A comment at a recent post mentioned “Jenning’s Rose Room, a classic poor white juke and dance hall … where Trader Joes now sits.” PG had been in that building when it was called Richards, and knew stories. Pictures are from ” The Special Collections and Archives,Georgia State University Library”.

There is no telling what the original use of the building at 931 Monroe Drive was. It was across the street from Grady Stadium, and adjacent to Piedmont Park. The railroad tracks that became the beltline ran behind it. The parking lot was primitive, with a marquee sign built at some point. (PG drove by that sign several nights and saw that Lynyrd Skynyrd was playing. Somehow, he did not make it inside.)

There was another nightclub building on the hill behind JRR. One night, PG went to see a jazz band there, accompanied by someone who lived in a nearby house. After seeing the band, PG was led to a horse stable behind the bar. The horses were not well maintained … you could see the ribs sticking out. There is a story of a goat getting loose from the stable, and being chased out of the jazz bar during happy hour.

Jennings Rose Room was before PG’s time. There is a story that some men had lunch there, and made a bet. The idea was to hit a golf ball from the JRR parking lot, and putt it into a hole at Piedmont Park. A biscuit was used as a tee. The first shot went across the street, onto the field at the stadium. Eventually, the ball was hit across Tenth Street, onto a green, and into the cup.

At some point, Jennings Rose Room closed. A gay club called Chuck’s Rathskeller was opened in that location. A rock and roll club or two did business there. Then Richards opened.

The first time PG was in the house was after a Johnny Winter concert at the Fox. There were rumors of visiting musicians dropping by Richards to play after their shows. Mr. Winter was only onstage for a couple of minutes after PG got there.

The most memorable trip to Richards was during the summer of 1973. The headliner was Rory Gallagher, who was ok but not spectacular. The opening act was Sopwith Camel, one of the forgotten bands of the seventies. They performed a novelty hit, “Hello Hello”. Someone in the audience liked it, and paid them to do it again. The band wound up doing “Hello Hello” five times, and said that was the most money they made on a show in a long time.

Average White Band was making the rounds that fall, and had a show at Richards. A lot of the audience was black, and they hit the dance floor in unison when “Pick up the Pieces” was played. Fellow Scotsman Alex Harvey was in town, and joined AWB to sing “I heard it through the grapevine”.

Muddy Waters played at Richards one night. The band did most of the playing, with Mr. Waters tossing in a few licks on bottleneck guitar. He might have sang a couple of times.

About this time, Iggy Pop played a few shows at Richards. One night, someone snuck up on him, and gave him a hug. It was Elton John, wearing a gorilla suit.

PG saw three more shows (that he can remember) at Richards. Richie Havens was worth the two dollar admission. Soft Machine played in the winter of 1974. Larry Coryell played a show that summer, with the Mike Greene Band opening. PG got to talk to Mike Greene that night. The National Association of Recording Arts and Sciences (who do the Grammy Awards) had a President named C. Michael Greene at one time. PG thinks this is the person he talked to that night.

Two friends of PG went, as their first date, to see Spirit at Richards. They were married a few years later. Towards the end of 1974, Richards was running out of steam. They advertised a New Years Eve show starring B.B. King, and sold high priced tickets. When the crowd showed up for the show, they found the doors locked. Richards had closed.

The next tenant for 931 Monroe Drive was going to be Cabaret After Dark, a gay club. There was a fire the night before the grand opening. The building was never used again. Eventually, a shopping center was built on the site.
UPDATE: Here is an article, from the Great Speckled Bird, about Richards. This is a repost.









What World Do You Live In LOL

Posted in Race, The Internet by chamblee54 on August 18, 2013








It was a lovely sunday morning, until this graphic appeared on facebook. The all caps text proclaims “5 TIMES AS MANY WHITES ARE USING DRUGS AS AFRICAN AMERICANS, YET AFRICAN AMERICANS ARE SENT TO PRISON ON DRUG OFFENSES AT 10 TIMES THE RATE OF WHITES.” Somebody did not want “WHITES” to have peace of mind on this sunday morning. A facebook smackdown comment discussion followed.

Statistics, semantics, and rhetoric are a formula for disrupting a peaceful sunday morning. ~ Mass incarceration can ruin your whole day (Like · 1) ~ See The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander (massive documentation) (Like · 2) ~ This should not be a race issue. The war on drugs affects all americans. When you make something a race issue, you make enemies of the white people who should be your allies. ~ I respectfully suggest you read the book or at least a precis before you opine on this issue Luther. You do not know the facts and your ignorance of them is painful to me. (Like · 1) ~ Luther, what world do you live in? LOL

By this time PG was very angry. The sign offended him on a number of levels. All caps is considered yelling. The statistics are tough to believe, and probably improperly used. The semantics of the text are annoying. (Is alcohol considered a drug? If not, why not? Your liver does not know that it is legal.) The text has an insulting racial slant. Why is one group hyphenated americans, and the other group the absence of color? Two wrongs do not make a right.

The racial events of the last year probably multiplied the impact of the sign. Also, the criminalization of some drugs has long offended PG. The fact that tax money is used to house drug criminals affects everyone. The disrespect for other laws that is created by the drug laws is a major problem. To have this seemingly blamed on “WHITES” is just a bit much.

Lets break it down. Is that per capita usage, or the totals consumed by the population? Is that the total numbers sent to prison, or the percentage of the population? Why were the handy numbers five and ten used? How was the data collected and tweaked? Were averages involved? If there were averages used, was it the mean, the median, or the mode? Were any inconvenient numbers ignored by the author of the “massive documentation”? How do we know that Michelle Alexander is a person of integrity? Who paid for the study? Is there another study that came to a different conclusion?

The statistics might be accurate. Black people are incarcerated more than white people. This is a problem for everyone. The people who are “out of town” suffer. The tax payers pay to support them. When the prisoners get out, they are going to be better criminals. The criminalization of drugs has too many problems to list here. While black people may be affected worse than white people, there is plenty of suffering to go around.

Nonetheless, this meme is not helpful. There is little benefit to going for the divide and conquer tactics of race war. The people that will benefit are the ones who support the war on drugs. This includes the alcohol industry, media that sells alcohol advertising, and the prison industrial complex.

White people are tired of being “called out”. While we are not perfect, we are not the devil. When you introduce race into an issue, you are going to alienate white people. If the drug laws are going to be changed, then the support of white people will be needed. You will lose this support when you shout about race. Even if the statistics are accurate, and properly used.

The facebook exchange was starting to get out of control. PG wrote another comment, but chose not to post it. 1- I was a serious pothead for thirty years. All that time I was an outlaw because of the war on drugs. To suggest that I am at fault for this useless endeavor, or that I somehow benefit from it, because I am European American is appalling. 2- I was having a pleasant sunday morning until I saw that horrific graphic. It pushes all my buttons. It is sleazy use of semantics and statistics. It is in all caps, which is shouting. I do not have the time, or the interest, to read a book about this depressing subject. 3- If you consider alcohol as a drug, then the figures will probably be very different. 4- “Luther. You do not know the facts and your ignorance of them is painful to me.” This is an insult. 5- I have seen the damage done by the war on drugs except alcohol. I have quit using the one legal drug, that is endlessly promoted in the corporate media. I do not need to read a book to know this. It is not my fault because I am european american. I do not benefit from it because I am european american.








Boast Not Truth

Posted in Undogegorized by chamblee54 on August 18, 2013









how many pinheads can fit on the wings of an angel? ~ What story is this connected to? One of the headlines: “New Coat Made From Chest Hair” ~ Does anyone else feel like a fat-positive clothing-optional pool party would be awesome? Or is it just me? ~ In a “fat-positive clothing-optional pool party” there would be no judgement and shaming about bodies. This is a good idea. Maybe we could extend this acceptance of our neighbor to include attitudes about race. ~ facebook will not stop oppression ~ It is amazing how they could do all those signs while the cars were parked in the same place, and the shadows didn’t move.

This cartoon hoodie looks a lot like a Klansman hat ~ The invisible hand of the market keeps groping me without my consent. ~ Here is a better chat about the book. The Fox interview might be part of a bizarre marketing scheme for the book. You could make a drinking game out of the interview. You do a shot every time he mentions his Phd. ~ when you give a cussword, do you gift wrap it? ~ a clown sees it all walking home makeup scraped off smile in a bag weight of the world on his shoulders lady by the stop sign pays for everything ~ It’s more fun to blame Jesus.

Dr. Aslan has degrees in Religions from Santa Clara University, Harvard University, and the University of California, Santa Barbara, as well as a Master of Fine Arts from the University of Iowa, where he was named the Truman Capote Fellow in Fiction. ~ 1- I have, almost, always agreed with Abbie Hoffman. … Stay away from needle drugs. The only dope worth shooting is Richard Nixon. 2- Is the syringe half empty, or half full? ~ Can you prove that the Abba turd in “Priscilla” was really the product of Agnetha?

Maybe, just maybe, your ideas are not “right”. As to whether the people around you are your friends. When you say friends, do you mean people you have bonded with, or social media contacts? One advantage of facebook “discussions” is that you can finish what you have to say without being interrrupted. That seldom happens face to face. ~ When I hear of antics of New York politicians, I think of our own characters, like Cynthia McKinney and Newt Gingrich. At least they don’t get caught sending naughty pictures over the internet. For which we can all be grateful.

Are parents and teenagers still fighting over haircuts? ~ This collection won second place in a writing contest. The pictures are from Short Mountain. One comment: “As always, you’ve bookended your writing with unique (and a tad creepy) photos.” ~ Michelle Nunn sponsored an unnecessary post about the ravings of a guitar player. ~ tell the inconvenient truth and they might banish you Maybe productive is a better goal. I suspect the intent of some people is to throw mud. The road to heaven is paved with bad intentions. Yes it does. Being told to ignore it is little help. I wonder how many people will unfriend you because of this. Truth is dangerous.

In the CNN interview, Rachel Jeantel talked about some tweets by Trayvon Martin being “boast, not truth”. This phenomenon may be more widepread than many think. The trouble is, if you call people on it, they call you nasty names. ~ 1- GSV has it’s share of quirks, and. like the faeries, defies easy explanation. 2- My problem with the concept of atheism is the dependence on what I call the belief paradigm. Mankind has evolved into a thinking critter, and many of us are proud of our thoughts. 2a-The question of whether or not you believe in G-d may be irrelevant. Maybe the question should be whether you have a knowledge of G-d, aka gnosis, whether than what you believe.

2b- This belief paradigm is a holdover from the Christian dominance of our culture. Christianism is based on beliefs, rather than practices. When people leave the Christian religion, they tend to look at non religion as being in the same format. 3- Any appropriation of Native American culture in the faeries tends to be rather shallow and improperly used. It is often little better than kids playing cowboys and indians. The same thing goes for new age G-ddess worship. We mean well, but get a lot of things wrong. 4- I was in a discussion once which said there were rave faeries and circle faeries. Circles certainly are less important now than they were twenty five years ago. Part of this is a function of having eight hundred people at a gathering. It simply is not practical to have everyone sit in on a morning circle.

5- Years ago, the Atlanta faeries (few used the R adjective then) wrote a feature about communities for RFD. There was a discussion, which was taped. The three qualities of faeries were said to be listening, honesty, and acceptance. 6- I have never been to a gathering outside the south. I suspect they do things different elsewhere. 7- This will teach me not to look at facebook so often. ~ The faerie world seems to be more about experience than belief. Maybe the issue of believer, or atheist, is irrelevant. While I have never heard this concept articulated, it would seem to be in tune with the faerie feng shui.

There is a culture shock when you go from the everyday world into faerie space. Maybe putting aside the belief paradigm is part of the difference. ~ the road to heaven is paved with bad intentions ~ When I was in high school I worked at a golf course. One day a man missed a putt. He threw his putter down, and shouted “shit, piss, and corruption”. !~ haiku dangerous – embarrass in the morning – hide the evidence ~ ~ Just what we need. Another story about an ass hole.

This is as good a place as any to end the first part of your story. I hope there is more to come. Obviously you survived the next twenty seven years, as did I. Inserting the date into this chapter helps me to gauge where I was in 1986. It was very different from hustling in New Orleans. I am also reading “Significant Others” by Armistead Maupin now. It is set in 1985 San Francisco, which was a third alternate reality. There will be a book report on my blog in the next day or so. I am starting to ramble, and may send an email with details I don’t want to get into the public domain. Anyway, you are off to a good start. The key thing now is to continue to produce.

Are season ticket holders required to buy tickets to the practice games?. ~ what is there to do – probably write a haiku – a cow would say moo ~ poetry warning – embarrass in the morning – video porning ~ existential threat – Israel nuclear bet – Iran Internet ~ It is not the same situation. However, the knee jerk urge to “do something” often has unintended consequences. Also, this is Russia we are talking about. This is a mysterious country. Winston Churchill called it a ” a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.” America has loved to hate Russia for years and years. I sense the old anti communist fervor is being brought out of the closet, pardon the expression. I seriously doubt the IOC is going to do anything, especially with just a few months to go before the games.

The lady said to William Faulkner: I have read Sanctuary four times, and I still don’t understand it. Mr. Faulkner said to the lady: Read it a fifth time. ~ You don’t need a weatherman To know which way the wind blows Bob Dylan ~ “Liberal Media” is a myth. It is concocted by self described conservatives, who think liberal is an insult. There are a few folks on the internet who might call themselves liberal, but they tend to be just as trashy as the self described conservatives. ~ three rules for on site operators: 1 it is none of your business 2 you do not understand it 3 you are not interested

Maybe you can believe in being right and practice being kind. ~ “Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect.” – Mark Twain. ~ This is a thought provoking concept. The problem is where this thinking will lead. ~ “Star policy is not to write about suicides, except when they occur in public areas, as Manley’s did.” ~ Or you could make a game about the infinite capacity for denial. ~ Why did a PFC have access to these secrets? ~ 1- The salaries of our elected officials is tiny compared to the bribes, or campaign contributions, that get them elected. This is much more of a scandal. 2- The fact that our soldiers are fighting to uphold a corrupt Afghan government is ridiculous. The soldier should be playing war games at a base in South Georgia. We have gotten our revenge for 911. It is time to move on. ~ Pictures are from The Library of Congress. ~ Selah









Martin Manley

Posted in The Death Penalty, The Internet, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on August 17, 2013









As you may have heard, a gentleman named Martin Manley kicked his own bucket the other day. He set up a website to document the act. Some will find the site interesting. Others wonder where the thought process would go from there.

Ironic comments are floating around. Mr. Manley’s former employer, the Kansas City Star, said “Star policy is not to write about suicides, except when they occur in public areas, as Manley’s did.” Apparently, Mr. Manley followed through on his plan. Another site, knowyourmeme, reports “The domain name was registered on May 22nd, 2013, but the website did not go live until August 15th, 2013.”

Mr. Manley prepaid for web hosting for the sui-site. “UPDATE, Saturday, Aug. 17, 11:55 a.m.: On Friday night, Yahoo took down Martin Manley’s website. A spokesperson told me: “After careful review, our team determined that this site violated our Terms of Service and we took it down.” Manley’s site lives on, for the time being, on various mirror websites not hosted by Yahoo.”

The decision to end a life on the 60th birthday is troubling to someone PG, who is 59 years old. Like most people who get to that age, there have been a couple of close calls with the grim reaper. Numerous friends, relatives, enemies, and acquaintances have checked out. PG does not always have the best mental health, and is not especially happy some days. However, there are still good days mixed in with the bad. Once you make that choice, you don’t get a second chance. There is also the concept that G-d gets to choose when to end a life. You are usually better off letting her make the call.









Chapter VII. A Mad Tea-Party

Posted in Undogegorized by chamblee54 on August 17, 2013






There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it: a Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head. ‘Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse,’ thought Alice; ‘only, as it’s asleep, I suppose it doesn’t mind.’
The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one corner of it: ‘No room! No room!’ they cried out when they saw Alice coming. ‘There’s PLENTY of room!’ said Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table.
‘Have some wine,’ the March Hare said in an encouraging tone.
Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea. ‘I don’t see any wine,’ she remarked.
‘There isn’t any,’ said the March Hare.
‘Then it wasn’t very civil of you to offer it,’ said Alice angrily.
‘It wasn’t very civil of you to sit down without being invited,’ said the March Hare.
‘I didn’t know it was YOUR table,’ said Alice; ‘it’s laid for a great many more than three.’
‘Your hair wants cutting,’ said the Hatter. He had been looking at Alice for some time with great curiosity, and this was his first speech.
‘You should learn not to make personal remarks,’ Alice said with some severity; ‘it’s very rude.’
The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he SAID was,
‘Why is a raven like a writing-desk?’

‘Come, we shall have some fun now!’ thought Alice. ‘I’m glad they’ve begun asking riddles.—I believe I can guess that,’ she added aloud.
‘Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?’ said the March Hare.
‘Exactly so,’ said Alice.
‘Then you should say what you mean,’ the March Hare went on.
‘I do,’ Alice hastily replied; ‘at least—at least I mean what I say—that’s the same thing, you know.’
‘Not the same thing a bit!’ said the Hatter. ‘You might just as well say that “I see what I eat” is the same thing as “I eat what I see”!’
‘You might just as well say,’ added the March Hare, ‘that “I like what I get” is the same thing as “I get what I like”!’
‘You might just as well say,’ added the Dormouse, who seemed to be talking in his sleep, ‘that “I breathe when I sleep” is the same thing as “I sleep when I breathe”!’
‘It IS the same thing with you,’ said the Hatter, and here the conversation dropped, and the party sat silent for a minute, while Alice thought over all she could remember about ravens and writing-desks, which wasn’t much.
The Hatter was the first to break the silence. ‘What day of the month is it?’ he said, turning to Alice: he had taken his watch out of his pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking it every now and then, and holding it to his ear.
Alice considered a little, and then said ‘The fourth.’
‘Two days wrong!’ sighed the Hatter. ‘I told you butter wouldn’t suit the works!’ he added looking angrily at the March Hare.
‘It was the BEST butter,’ the March Hare meekly replied.
‘Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well,’ the Hatter grumbled:
‘you shouldn’t have put it in with the bread-knife.’

The March Hare took the watch and looked at it gloomily: then he dipped it into his cup of tea, and looked at it again: but he could think of nothing better to say than his first remark, ‘It was the BEST butter, you know.’
Alice had been looking over his shoulder with some curiosity. ‘What a funny watch!’ she remarked. ‘It tells the day of the month, and doesn’t tell what o’clock it is!’
‘Why should it?’ muttered the Hatter. ‘Does YOUR watch tell you what year it is?’
‘Of course not,’ Alice replied very readily:
‘but that’s because it stays the same year for such a long time together.’

‘Which is just the case with MINE,’ said the Hatter.
Alice felt dreadfully puzzled. The Hatter’s remark seemed to have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English. ‘I don’t quite understand you,’ she said, as politely as she could.
‘The Dormouse is asleep again,’ said the Hatter, and he poured a little hot tea upon its nose.
The Dormouse shook its head impatiently, and said, without opening its eyes, ‘Of course, of course; just what I was going to remark myself.’
‘Have you guessed the riddle yet?’ the Hatter said, turning to Alice again.
‘No, I give it up,’ Alice replied: ‘what’s the answer?’
‘I haven’t the slightest idea,’ said the Hatter.
‘Nor I,’ said the March Hare.
Alice sighed wearily. ‘I think you might do something better with the time,’ she said, ‘than waste it in asking riddles that have no answers.’
‘If you knew Time as well as I do,’ said the Hatter, ‘you wouldn’t talk about wasting IT. It’s HIM.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Alice.
‘Of course you don’t!’ the Hatter said, tossing his head contemptuously.
‘I dare say you never even spoke to Time!’

‘Perhaps not,’ Alice cautiously replied: ‘but I know I have to beat time when I learn music.’
‘Ah! that accounts for it,’ said the Hatter. ‘He won’t stand beating. Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he’d do almost anything you liked with the clock. For instance, suppose it were nine o’clock in the morning, just time to begin lessons: you’d only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the clock in a twinkling! Half-past one, time for dinner!’
(‘I only wish it was,’ the March Hare said to itself in a whisper.)
‘That would be grand, certainly,’ said Alice thoughtfully:
‘but then—I shouldn’t be hungry for it, you know.’

‘Not at first, perhaps,’ said the Hatter: ‘but you could keep it to half-past one as long as you liked.’
‘Is that the way YOU manage?’ Alice asked.
The Hatter shook his head mournfully. ‘Not I!’ he replied. ‘We quarrelled last March—just before HE went mad, you know—’ (pointing with his tea spoon at the March Hare,) ‘—it was at the great concert given by the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing
“Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! How I wonder what you’re at!”
You know the song, perhaps?’
‘I’ve heard something like it,’ said Alice.
‘It goes on, you know,’ the Hatter continued, ‘in this way:—
“Up above the world you fly, Like a tea-tray in the sky.Twinkle, twinkle—”‘
Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep ‘Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle—’ and went on so long that they had to pinch it to make it stop.
‘Well, I’d hardly finished the first verse,’ said the Hatter, ‘when the Queen jumped up and bawled out, “He’s murdering the time! Off with his head!”‘
‘How dreadfully savage!’ exclaimed Alice.
‘And ever since that,’ the Hatter went on in a mournful tone, ‘he won’t do a thing I ask!
It’s always six o’clock now.’

A bright idea came into Alice’s head. ‘Is that the reason so many tea-things are put out here?’ she asked.
‘Yes, that’s it,’ said the Hatter with a sigh: ‘it’s always tea-time, and we’ve no time to wash the things between whiles.’
‘Then you keep moving round, I suppose?’ said Alice.
‘Exactly so,’ said the Hatter: ‘as the things get used up.’







‘But what happens when you come to the beginning again?’ Alice ventured to ask.
‘Suppose we change the subject,’ the March Hare interrupted, yawning. ‘I’m getting tired of this. I vote the young lady tells us a story.’
‘I’m afraid I don’t know one,’ said Alice, rather alarmed at the proposal.
‘Then the Dormouse shall!’ they both cried.
‘Wake up, Dormouse!’ And they pinched it on both sides at once.

The Dormouse slowly opened his eyes. ‘I wasn’t asleep,’ he said in a hoarse, feeble voice:
‘I heard every word you fellows were saying.’

‘Tell us a story!’ said the March Hare.
‘Yes, please do!’ pleaded Alice.
‘And be quick about it,’ added the Hatter, ‘or you’ll be asleep again before it’s done.’
‘Once upon a time there were three little sisters,’ the Dormouse began in a great hurry; ‘and their names were Elsie, Lacie, and Tillie; and they lived at the bottom of a well—’
‘What did they live on?’ said Alice, who always took a great interest in questions of eating and drinking.
‘They lived on treacle,’ said the Dormouse, after thinking a minute or two.
‘They couldn’t have done that, you know,’ Alice gently remarked; ‘they’d have been ill.’
‘So they were,’ said the Dormouse; ‘VERY ill.’
Alice tried to fancy to herself what such an extraordinary ways of living would be like, but it puzzled her too much, so she went on: ‘But why did they live at the bottom of a well?’
‘Take some more tea,’ the March Hare said to Alice, very earnestly.
‘I’ve had nothing yet,’ Alice replied in an offended tone, ‘so I can’t take more.’
You mean you can’t take LESS,’ said the Hatter: ‘it’s very easy to take MORE than nothing.’
‘Nobody asked YOUR opinion,’ said Alice.
‘Who’s making personal remarks now?’ the Hatter asked triumphantly.
Alice did not quite know what to say to this: so she helped herself to some tea and bread-and-butter, and then turned to the Dormouse, and repeated her question. ‘Why did they live at the bottom of a well?’
The Dormouse again took a minute or two to think about it, and then said, ‘It was a treacle-well.’
‘There’s no such thing!’ Alice was beginning very angrily, but the Hatter and the March Hare went ‘Sh! sh!’ and the Dormouse sulkily remarked, ‘If you can’t be civil, you’d better finish the story for yourself.’
‘No, please go on!’ Alice said very humbly; ‘I won’t interrupt again. I dare say there may be ONE.’
‘One, indeed!’ said the Dormouse indignantly. However, he consented to go on. ‘And so these three little sisters—they were learning to draw, you know—’
‘What did they draw?’ said Alice, quite forgetting her promise.
‘Treacle,’ said the Dormouse, without considering at all this time.
‘I want a clean cup,’ interrupted the Hatter: ‘let’s all move one place on.’
He moved on as he spoke, and the Dormouse followed him: the March Hare moved into the Dormouse’s place, and Alice rather unwillingly took the place of the March Hare. The Hatter was the only one who got any advantage from the change: and Alice was a good deal worse off than before, as the March Hare had just upset the milk-jug into his plate.
Alice did not wish to offend the Dormouse again, so she began very cautiously: ‘But I don’t understand. Where did they draw the treacle from?’
‘You can draw water out of a water-well,’ said the Hatter; ‘so I should think you could draw treacle out of a treacle-well—eh, stupid?’
‘But they were IN the well,’ Alice said to the Dormouse, not choosing to notice this last remark.
‘Of course they were’, said the Dormouse; ‘—well in.’ This answer so confused poor Alice, that she let the Dormouse go on for some time without interrupting it.
‘They were learning to draw,’ the Dormouse went on, yawning and rubbing its eyes, for it was getting very sleepy; ‘and they drew all manner of things—everything that begins with an M—’
‘Why with an M?’ said Alice.
‘Why not?’ said the March Hare.
Alice was silent.
The Dormouse had closed its eyes by this time, and was going off into a doze; but, on being pinched by the Hatter, it woke up again with a little shriek, and went on: ‘—that begins with an M, such as mouse-traps, and the moon, and memory, and muchness—you know you say things are “much of a muchness”—did you ever see such a thing as a drawing of a muchness?’
‘Really, now you ask me,’ said Alice, very much confused, ‘I don’t think—’
‘Then you shouldn’t talk,’ said the Hatter.
This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could bear: she got up in great disgust, and walked off; the Dormouse fell asleep instantly, and neither of the others took the least notice of her going, though she looked back once or twice, half hoping that they would call after her: the last time she saw them, they were trying to put the Dormouse into the teapot.
‘At any rate I’ll never go THERE again!’ said Alice as she picked her way through the wood. ‘It’s the stupidest tea-party I ever was at in all my life!’ Just as she said this, she noticed that one of the trees had a door leading right into it. ‘That’s very curious!’ she thought. ‘But everything’s curious today. I think I may as well go in at once.’ And in she went.
Once more she found herself in the long hall, and close to the little glass table. ‘Now, I’ll manage better this time,’ she said to herself, and began by taking the little golden key, and unlocking the door that led into the garden. Then she went to work nibbling at the mushroom (she had kept a piece of it in her pocket) till she was about a foot high: then she walked down the little passage: and THEN—she found herself at last in the beautiful garden, among the bright flower-beds and the cool fountains.
Today’s entertainment is Chapter VII of ALICE’S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND By Lewis Carroll .
The text is courtesy of Project Gutenberg. This is a repost. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives,Georgia State University Library”.






Good Norweigan Wood

Posted in Music, Trifecta, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on August 16, 2013














A Sad Event

Posted in Undogegorized by chamblee54 on August 15, 2013




It is with the saddest heart that I must pass on the following news. Please join me in remembering a great icon of the entertainment community. The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71. Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.

Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs.Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch. The grave site was piled high with flours. Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded.

Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times he was still a crusty old man and was considered a roll model for millions.

Doughboy is survived by his wife, Play Dough, two children, John Dough and Jane Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly dad, Pop Tart.

I am not clever enough to compose the above piece. Credit is hereby given to whoever wrote it. Pictures are from Gwinnett County.The spell check suggestion for Doughboy is Doughnut.This is a repost.





The Tin Soldiers

Posted in Politics, Religion by chamblee54 on August 14, 2013

1 And G-d spake all these words, saying,
2 I am the LORD thy G-d, which have brought thee out of the land of Egypt,
out of the house of bondage.
3 Thou shalt have no other G-ds before me.
4 Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth:
5 Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them:
for I the LORD thy G-d am a jealous G-d,
visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children
unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me;
6 And shewing mercy unto thousands of them that love me, and keep my commandments.
7 Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy G-d in vain;
for the LORD will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain.
8 Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.
9 Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work:
10 But the seventh day is the sabbath of the LORD thy G-d: in it thou shalt not do any work,
nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle,
nor thy stranger that is within thy gates:
11 For in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is,
and rested the seventh day: wherefore the LORD blessed the sabbath day, and hallowed it.
12 Honour thy father and thy mother:
that thy days may be long upon the land which the LORD thy G-d giveth thee.
13 Thou shalt not kill.
14 Thou shalt not commit adultery.
15 Thou shalt not steal.
16 Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.
17 Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife,
nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbour’s.
18 And all the people saw the thunderings, and the lightnings, and the noise of the trumpet,
and the mountain smoking: and when the people saw it, they removed, and stood afar off.
19 And they said unto Moses, Speak thou with us, and we will hear:
but let not G-d speak with us, lest we die.
20 And Moses said unto the people, Fear not:
for G-d is come to prove you, and that his fear may be before your faces, that ye sin not.
21 And the people stood afar off, and Moses drew near unto the thick darkness where G-d was.
22 And the LORD said unto Moses, Thus thou shalt say unto the children of Israel,
Ye have seen that I have talked with you from heaven.
23 Ye shall not make with me G-ds of silver, neither shall ye make unto you G-ds of gold.
24 An altar of earth thou shalt make unto me, and shalt sacrifice thereon thy burnt offerings, and thy peace offerings, thy sheep, and thine oxen: in all places where I record my name I will come unto thee, and I will bless thee.
25 And if thou wilt make me an altar of stone, thou shalt not build it of hewn stone: for if thou lift up thy tool upon it, thou hast polluted it.
26 Neither shalt thou go up by steps unto mine altar, that thy nakedness be not discovered thereon.
A The ten commandos are not meant to be believed. They are meant to be practiced.
B If you take away the religious whoopee, the ten commandos hold up as common sense rules for living.
C If you meet someone who claims to practice all of the commandos, then you are dealing with a liar.
D We are all G-d’s children. She gave you a heart and a mind. When in doubt, trust your heart.
E The first commando is powerful and under appreciated. It does not include books about G-d.
F There is an ongoing controversy about the public display of the ten commandos. Some say such displays violate the second commando. Does a sign forbidding lying and stealing work in a courthouse?
G The third commando is more than G-d’s last name. It is about the proper use of a sacred name. In a perfect world, the word G-d would only be used for worship and respectful discussion. A “pledge of allegiance” to a nationalist symbol is not an appropriate use of a sacred name.
H Sunday is too fine of a day to spend inside a church house.
I When you are discussing religion, it is normal to be a hypocrite.
If you disagree with people, the easiest, cheapest, and laziest argument is to say they are hypocrites.

J Whenever possible, show kindness to your neighbor.
K The text for Exodus 20 is courtesy of King James Bible Online.
Pictures are by Chamblee54. This is a repost.

101 Ways To Say Death Part Five

Posted in Undogegorized by chamblee54 on August 13, 2013








In 2008, a blogger started a series, 101 Ways to Say “Died”. It focused on epitaphs from New England cemeteries. Most of the headstones used were carved before 1825. The series has gone past 101, and is up to 118 now. If you look at the site, you see links to the individual parts. That is the number before the epitaph. Some have been skipped. The VPI site has photographs of many of the headstones used here. HT to Twenty Two Words. Parts one, two, three, and four have been published.

96 To the Memory of Mr JACOB WALKER who respected by the Brave, Beloved of his Country’s Friends Dear to his Relations, while manfully defending the Laws & Liberties of the Commonwealth, NOBLY FELL by the impious hand of Treason & Rebellion, upon the 17th February AD 1787 in the XXXII Year of his Age. Citizen passing drop a tear And dare to imitate the BRAVE.

98 Polly The daughter of Mr. Danl. & Mrs. Vesta Howard. A Boon received Jany. 25 1778.
Remanded by the . . . d. 1784


100 In testimony of parental affection & endearing recollection of Miss Sarah Patterson, who bid adieu to earthly scenes, Jan 31, 1819 AEt. 18, & David, who died March 6, 1797 AEt. 2 yrs. & Mary, who died Sept. 22, 1800, AEt. 19 M. Children of Mr. Saml. and Mrs. Lydia Goodhue, He was son of Mr. John Goodhue, son of Dr. Saml. Goodhue, son of Dr. Joseph Goodhue, son of Dr. Wm. Goodhue, who came from Engl. & settled at Ipswich 1645.

102 Here lies the remains of a pleasant babe, Jonathan the Son of Mr. Isaac and Mrs. Mary Woods who was taken by death from his mother’s breasts, Octo. 10th 1769 aged 6 months 3 days.

103 In Memory of Mr. LUTHER N. CURTIS Son of Mr. Eli & Mrs. Clarissa Curtis who was suffocated in the cabin of the schooner Globe Feb. 18 1841, AEt. 21 Years. Scituate, MA

104 Here rests SARAH, wife of ye Revd; S. HOPKINS, & Relict of ye Revd; C. WILLIAMS; an Exemplary Christian, pleasant & lovely in her Life, & lamented in her Death. She left {to go & be with CHRIST,} A sorrowful Husband & 14 Children Febr, 5th AD 1774 AE 48. Favour is deceitful, & Beauty is vain: but A Woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.

105 Mary Emerson d. 1784 Pepperell, MA Be wise to day, tis madness to defer Erected to Ye Memory of Miss MARY EMERSON, only Daughter of Ye, Revd JOSEPH EMERSON & Mrs. ABIGAIL his wife, who in hopes of a better Left this World June 20th; 1784 in the 33d Year of her age. Though the righteous be prevented by death it Shall be well with him for wisdom is Ye gray hair unto man, & an . . .

106 Olin E. Webster d. 1856 Plymouth, MA OLIN E. Son of Dr. Ervin & Harriet W. Webster; passed onward Aug. 28, 1856, aged 4 years 1 mon. & 20 days.

108 JACOB JOHNSON, JUN. who perished with 41 other persons in Columbia River Oregon on the night of Jan. 31, 1852. by the wrecking of the Steamer Gen. Warren. AEt. 32 yrs. 9 mos.

109 Lucreatia K. dau. of Rev. Wm. S. & Priscilla Douglass, was killed by falling from Cliffs on Newport, Mt. Eden, Me. Aug. 3. 1853. AE 12 yrs. Dead, but not forgotten.
Erected by her Brother J.H. Douglass, in 188

110 Simon Bradstreet, Esquire In the Senate of the Massachusetts Colony from the year 1630 to the year 1673, then Lieutenant Governor to the year 1679, and at last, until the year 1686, Governor of the same Colony by the general and determined vote of the people. He was a man endowed with keen judgment whom neither threats nor honors could sway. He weighed the authority of the King and the Liberty of the People in even scales. In Religion devout and upright in his ways, he vanquished the world and relinquished it on the XXVIIth day of March in the year of our Lord MDCXCVII, and in the IXth year of King William Third, and of his life the XCIVth.

111 Memento mori Mrs ABIGAIL KENRICK Widow of CAPT. CALEB KENRICK left her pleasant habitation in Newton & come to her Daughter Dana’s in Groton, on account of ye civil War;
Sept. 5. 1775 AE 76 was removed by a dysentery to that place where ye wicked cease from troubling
& ye weary are at rest.

112 Memento mori Here lies the Body of Mr. Nathaniel Stone son of Mr. Nathaniel Stone & Mrs. Sybel his wife who died in his Countrys service on Dorchester Hill Octr. 22d. 1776
Aged 17 years one month & 22 days.

113 This Stone consecrated to the memory of Madam JANE ROBBINS consort of the late Revd Dr Robbins who languished from his death 30th June 1799 till 12th September 1800 when in the 60th year of her age She commenced her inseparable union with her much beloved Husband and her God is erected by the Piety of her afflicted children.
Unfading hope when life’s last embers burn, When soul to soul and dust to dust return, Heav’n to thy charge resigns the awful hour Oh, then thy Kingdom comes immortal Power.

114 Here lies the Body of John Bowers the first Born & only son of Mr John Bower and Mrs Lydia his wife who was drouned in a tan pit Augst 24th 1776 Aged 3 Years 3 months & 6 days.
Youth’s foreward slips Death soonest Nips.

115 Memento mori In memory of Aaron Bowers, son of Mr. John Bowers & Mrs Lydia his wife, who was instantlykill’d by a stock of boards Sept 12 1791. AEt 2 yrs & 10 mon Parents dear your idols all take down. Lest God should still upon you frown.

116 Abel Lawrence d. 1770 Groton, MA Memento mori HERE lies Inter’d the Remains of ABEL Lawrence Esqr: son of ye late Col Wm Lawrence & Susanna his wife. Being formed by ye GOD of ye Spirits of all flesh with Superiour intallectual abilities, he was Called forth in Early life to the mannagement of publick bussiness, and acquitted himself with honour. he was for Several years a member of ye General Court, a Justice of ye peace; he was affable in his Disposition when he saw any in Distress he felt for them & was ready to Releive them to the utmost of his power. Beleiving a state of immortality, he endavoured to secure happiness therein, by the Exercise of Repentance towards GOD & faith in Christ. after patiently Endureing a long and distressing illness, he submitted to the Stroke of all Conquering death on the 20th of September AD 1770 Anno AEtatis 41

117 Silas Barron d. 1766 Groton, MA Here lies the Body of Silas Barron, son of Mr. Silasparker Barron & Mrs. Abigail his wife, who died of the 108 Convulsion fit Augt 7th AD 1766. Aged 3 weeks and 1 Day.

118 Mary Eaton, 1817, Haverhill, MA SACRED may this marble long remain, the jut tribute of a huba(n)d’s affection, to the memory of MRS. MARY EATON, wife of FRANCIS EATON ESQ who was hurried from this life by the rapid ravages of a Puerperal Fever, on the 15 day of Feb. AD. 1817. AEt. 31. She left an excellent example in all The various relations of Wife, Mother, Sister, Daughter, Neighbor, Friend, and Christian. 96 To the Memory of Mr JACOB WALKER who respected by the Brave, Beloved of his Country’s Friends Dear to his Relations, while manfully defending the Laws & Liberties of the Commonwealth, NOBLY FELL by the impious hand of Treason & Rebellion, upon the 17th February AD 1787 in the XXXII Year of his Age. Citizen passing drop a tear And dare to imitate the BRAVE.