Common Ground

I just read an editorial piece posted on ‘Being Liberal’, a Facebook page. Oddly enough it was about ‘being liberal’ about Pres. Obama’s apparent wish to make war with Syria acceptable when we all KNOW war with Afghanistan and Iraq and Libya and Egypt and Jordan and Lebanon and so on and so forth is not acceptable. What the piece said, essentially, is that everything President Obama does is OK, no matter what. No matter what he says or does, he’s OK. This confirms my own thoughts about ‘being liberal’, which was immortalized in the words of the song “I’m a lumberjack and I’m OK’.

See article here: https://www.facebook.com/beingliberal.org Notice the photo of Dr. Martin Luther King displayed at the top in FALSE colors. How appropriate. I’m sure Dr. King would be spinning in his grave to know what Democrats have become in this day and age.

See my definition of ‘Being Liberal’ below:4300_The lumberjack

I’m a lumberjack, and I’m okay.
I sleep all night and I work all day.

MOUNTIES:
He’s a lumberjack, and he’s okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

BARBER:
I cut down trees. I eat my lunch.
I go to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays I go shoppin’
And have buttered scones for tea.

MOUNTIES:
He cuts down trees. He eats his lunch.
He goes to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays he goes shopping
And has buttered scones for tea.

He’s a lumberjack, and he’s okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

BARBER:
I cut down trees. I skip and jump.
I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women’s clothing
And hang around in bars.

MOUNTIES:
He cuts down trees. He skips and jumps.
He likes to press wild flowers.
He puts on women’s clothing
And hangs around in bars?!

He’s a lumberjack, and he’s okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

BARBER:
I cut down trees. I wear high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra.
I wish I’d been a girlie,
Just like my dear Papa.

MOUNTIES:
He cuts down trees. He wears high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra?!

[talking]
What’s this? Wants to be a girlie?! Oh, My!
And I thought you were so rugged! Poofter!…

[singing]
He’s a lumberjack, and he’s okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

He’s a lumberjack, and he’s okaaaaay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

Nobel Prize

I have decided to win the Nobel Prize for literature. I know that it is an unusual decision for a writer, but I’ve been thinking about it for quite some time. I do believe it is possible for a Texan to win the Prize even though it is virtually impossible for most Americans to win such a prize simply by way of being American. I am quite sure that being a Texan makes all the difference in the world. I mean, think about it. When Texans go abroad and visit foreign countries they invariably answer the question “And where are you from?” with “Texas!”. It would never cross our minds to say “America” since that might include not only the United States, but Canada, Mexico, Honduras, Nicaragua, Belize… you get the picture, right?

Oddly enough, most ‘foreigners’ already know that Texas is part of the United States (the best part) and they love the way we talk.  Mind you, not the way we speak, not our eloquence, elocution or elegance of expression, just the way we talk in general. We are like a whole ‘nother country. They said so on television so it must be true. I, for one, would not wish to or want to or willingly live anywhere else on a permanent basis (unless I could come home at will whenever I felt the urge).

So, as I was saying, I want to be the first Texan to win the Nobel Prize for Literature. Just wanted to get that out there so the people who do the nominating know that I am ready to accept the honor.

Now, I know you are wondering why I think I have a chance at winning such a prize. It’s simple. All you have to do is Google some of the more recent winners and you will see that absolutely anyone can win a Nobel Prize. And if you go further and read some excerpts from the works of the prize winners, you will understand why I feel I am a good candidate. Why, you might even be a candidate yourself. You never can tell.nobel

A Penny Saved…

Here is an interesting piece I published on Readwave, but beware, it’s political! LOLben

Executive Office of the President

United States of America

Washington, D.C.

July 17, 2013

Hon. Benjamin Franklin, President

Society for the Abolition of Slavery

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA

Dear Mr. Franklin,

I am honored beyond human expression to be able to write to you as the 44th President of the United States of America and as the first democratically elected President of African descent.

I have enclosed a slightly modified copy of my last State of the Union address to the American people dated February 12, 2013. I have instructed that it be modified in order to make sure you were able to understand the contents by adding descriptions of our great scientific advances made over the past 224 years. I have also enclosed a current world political map, a copy of the Constitution as it stands today and a new Merriam Webster Dictionary for your convenience.

I would like to ask you, sir, as one of our venerated American Founding Fathers to peruse the enclosed documents and make comments concerning your honored opinion of our progress as a nation. Your words will be an inspiration to me, as President of the Greatest Nation on Earth, and to the American populace.

We, the people of the United States, stand by with tremendous anticipation while awaiting your answer.

May God bless and keep you, sir.

Barack Hussein Obama, Commander-in-Chief of the United States of America

Philadelphia July 31, 1789

Mr. President,

I was quite taken by surprise to receive your letter, but none-the-less was I pleased to find that our nation has endured the years as I and my colleagues had hoped and dreamed. After studying your letter and attachments late into the night, I sent at once for my attorney and his learned associates in order that they should help me interpret the documents with the least misunderstanding possible for a man of my advance age and weakness of body.

We poured over the contents for several days, making notes in the margins, admiring the font and perfection of the type, the quality of the paper all the while analyzing the contents with great alacrity and excitement… at first. However, after much debate, hither and thither, as well as to and fro, we became disheartened, apprehensive and, at times, furthermore demoralized as not only the construction of the letter, but the spirit of the letter became evident.

While I am delighted to learn that much wondrous advancement in science, medicine and the human condition have been made by your time, I am discouraged by your mention of war, poverty, immorality and imperialistic ideology in your address to the American people.

I am pleased and proud to attach my comments to certain portions of your address with questions as well as observations. It seems my doddering old age is preventing me from completely comprehending some of the items enumerated in your address even with the assistance of my good and plenty advisors. In particular, I would like to address the idea that the American government has become an ‘investor in the business of creating jobs’ as well as, an ‘investor’ in what I discern might be private business ventures. It has always been my contention that business creates jobs and that the government’s business is to should stay out of commerce, i.e. ‘business’.

Your commentary concerning charitable acts enforced by the government by way of providing medical care and other emoluments for the poor, elderly and disadvantaged; indebtedness encouraged upon the young by provision of low interest loans for homes; and by the ‘creation’ of jobs wherein the government itself is the primary employer pained me greatly and seems somehow counterproductive to a healthy economy of national commerce.

In particular, I would respectfully and humbly request more information concerning the Affordable Care Act and Medicare. Perhaps, a copy of the initial proposals would shed more light on those programs since I have no current frame of reference from which to draw proper conclusions.

Yours in all faith and sincerity,

B. Franklin

Attachment I

Excerpts taken from Barack Obama, President ‘s for the Year of Our Lord, Two Thousand Thirteen address State of the Union with parenthetical comments inserted on presidential request by Benjamin Franklin, President, Society for the Abolition of Slavery, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. July 30, 1789

After a decade of grinding war, our brave men and women in uniform are coming home.  After years of grueling recession, our businesses have created over six million new jobs.  We buy more American cars than we have in five years, and less foreign oil than we have purchased in twenty years.  Our housing market is healing, our stock market is rebounding, and consumers, patients, and homeowners enjoy stronger protections than ever before. (I SEE THAT WAR AND ITS RAVAGES CONTINUE TO PLAGUE MANKIND EVEN IN THE FAR FUTURE. I AM SADDENED TO HEAR OF SUCH AFTER A LIFE SPENT IN MUCH TOIL ENSURING A BRIGHT, HOPEFUL FUTURE FOR AMERICA AND AMERICANS. I AM ENCOURAGED TO HEAR THAT CONDITIONS ARE IMPROVING)

It is our generation’s task, then, to reignite the true engine of America’s economic growth – a rising, thriving middle class(I AM APPALLED TO LEARN THAT A CLASS SYSTEM SEPARATING MEN INTO CATEGORIES LIKE SO MUCH CHATTEL HAS SPRUNG UP IN AMERICA. HOW CAN THIS BE?)

It is our unfinished task to restore the basic bargain that built this country – the idea that if you work hard and meet your responsibilities, you can get ahead, no matter where you come from, what you look like, or who you love. (WHAT HAPPENED TO THIS BASIC TRUTH? I MUST READ ON IN HOPES OF DISCOVERING THE CAUSE OF THIS TRAGEDY!)

Over the last few years, both parties have worked together to reduce the deficit by more than $2.5 trillion – mostly through spending cuts, but also by raising tax rates on the wealthiest 1 percent of Americans.  As a result, we are more than halfway towards the goal of $4 trillion in deficit reduction that economists say we need to stabilize our finances.  (THESE NUMBERS DEFY COMPREHENSION AND LEAVE ME BREATHLESS. SURELY YOU EXAGGERATE, MR. PRESIDENT. AM I TO BELIEVE THAT AMERICA IS INDEBTED TO SUCH AN EXTENT? I DARESAY THE COUNTRY IS CERTAINLY DAMNED IF THESE NUMBERS ARE TRUE.)

Now, some in this Congress have proposed preventing only the defense cuts by making even bigger cuts to things like education and job training; Medicare and Social Security benefits. (I DO NOT QUITE GRASP THE MEANING OF THIS PARTICULAR ITEM. HENCE MY REQUEST FOR MORE INFORMATION ON “MEDICARE” AND “SOCIAL SECURITY”. IT SEEMS UNCLEAR WHO MIGHT BE FUNDING THESE THINGS. DO YOU MEAN TO SAY THAT EDUCATION AND JOB TRAINING ARE PROVIDED BY THE GOVERNMENT? THE NEXT FEW COMMENTS CONCERNING “THE AFFORDABLE CARE ACT” AND “MEDICARE” LEAD ME TO BELIEVE THAT THE GOVERNMENT IS SOMEHOW PAYING FOR THESE ACTS AND/OR PROGRAMS THROUGH TAX MONEY. I SHUDDER TO THINK THAT THE AMERICAN PEOPLE ARE BEING BURDENED WITH TAXES IN YOUR DAY AND AGE JUST AS WE WERE BURDENED IN OUR DAY BY THE KING OF ENGLAND.)

(I FOUND MANY CONFLICTING AND CONFUSING IDEAS LITTERED THROUGHOUT THE REMAINDER OF THE ADDRESS. I FAIL TO COMPREHEND HOW THE GOVERNMENT HAS COME TO BE INVOLVED IN SO MANY ASPECTS OF THE AMERICAN CITIZEN’S DAILY LIFE. I ALSO CANNOT BELIEVE THAT YOU ARE ONLY JUST NOW INSTITUTING PROTECTION FOR WOMEN AND CHILDREN WHILE ENCOURAGING YOUNG PEOPLE TO VENTURE INTO A STATE OF INDEBTEDNESS IN ORDER TO ACQUIRE A HOME FOR THEMSELVES AND THEIR FAMILIES. WHAT HAPPENED TO HELPING YOUR NEIGHBOR? AND FOR THE LOVE OF ALL CREATION, WHY WOULD THE GOVERNMENT BE INVOLVED IN THE ACT OF CHARITY? IS THIS NOT AN INDIVIDUAL DECISION? CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME AND SHOULD NOT BE DICTATED BY THE GOVERNMENT. FORGIVE ME, MR. PRESIDENT, BUT PERHAPS I NEED TO SEE MORE BEFORE I COMMENT MORE. I SHALL RESERVE FURTHER COMMENTARY UNTIL I HAVE READ MORE ABOUT THIS “AFFORDABLE CARE ACT” AND “MEDICARE”.

Executive Office of the President

United States of America

Washington, D.C.

August 5, 2013

 

Dear Mr. Franklin,

I think I can speak for all of American when I say how overjoyed we were to receive your letter.

Although I was a bit unsettled by your obvious misunderstanding of the current problems facing our nation today. Things are much more complex now than when they are in your day and age. In 2013, the entire world looks toward the United States of America for guidance and example. Global politics are extremely volatile and require much of our national resources in order to maintain our position as the Greatest Nation on Earth. Our involvement in global trade and global initiatives is imperative. We as a nation must concern ourselves with the condition of humanity not only in America, but across the planet. Of course, we must concern ourselves with the welfare of the American populace first and foremost.

Taxation is a necessary evil, I’m afraid, in this day of global competition for energy resources and industry. We must compete and we must appease the appetites of other nations in order to ensure our continued success as a nation. The American Dream may be harder to achieve now, but it is not impossible. My reference to the Middle Class is simply a of delineating mark, if you will, between the haves (Upper Class) and the have nots (Lower Class). The vast majority of Americans live somewhere between poverty and wealth. We believe that everyone is entitled to pursue happiness regardless of their circumstances and wish to make certain those at the bottom of the ladder have as much opportunity as those at the top. Sometimes this may require progressive methods and techniques not always popular with everyone, but certainly appropriate for the better good of the people.

I have enclosed a copy of Title XVIII of the Social Security Act covering the creation of Medicare and a copy of the Affordable Care Act passed by congress under my Administration.

I hope that you will be able to look over these documents and send your comments as soon as

Thank you, sir, for your time and attention.

God Bless You and Yours,

Barack Hussein Obama, President of the United States of America

Philadelphia, April 1790

 

Hon. Mr. President Obama,

It is my sad duty to inform you that my colleague, the very honorable Benjamin Franklin, President of the Society for the Abolition of Slavery has passed from this earth into God’s own hands. May we be so blessed as to live such a distinguished life as our fellow Pennsylvanian, Statesman and Friend to all Mankind.

Unfortunately, although Mr. Franklin endeavored heartily with all his waning might to read the enormous volume of political claptrap you forwarded to him. I would have advised him otherwise, had I been consulted, rather than use his limited energies to a better end. I do believe his efforts to understand your Affordable Care Act and your Title XVIII Social Security Act have contributed to his demise. Why the sheer weight and volume of the tomes is beyond belief, good sir.

I do not mean to insinuate that your Affordable Care Act has laid our dear Mr. Franklin in an early grave since he has lived long and well, but I can tell you that he did say that your Act was neither ‘affordable’ nor ‘caring’ and sure to be the death of many a good Christian whilst he and/or she struggles to understand it in time to employ it should the need arise. As for the Social Security Act, he advises that the government refrain from trying to take care of men and women who do not need such care and focus on providing protection for American securities and investments at home and abroad so that Americans may take care of themselves by whatever means they may see fit. He reminded me ‘A penny saved is a penny earned’.

Yours in faith,

Prof. Benjamin Rush, Surgeon General Continental Army

University of Pennsylvania

 

Life Now and Then ~~ Kenya/Texas

outhouseI read a wonderful piece on Readwave written by Tamsin Emma and wanted to share it with everyone. She writes about going to Kenya when she was nine years old to visit her older sister who was teaching English there. It is a glimpse into another world and it set me to thinking about how my own grandmother lived right here in Texas when I was a small child. The comparisons were not too very different. Please go and have a look at Tamsin’s article and then read on.  http://tinyurl.com/Goats-and-Footballs

When I was very young, from an infant to seven years old, my grandparents lived in a wooden shanty on a small piece of land that lay between a Santa Fe railroad track and a Texas state highway. The highway was probably less than five yards from the porch. Trucks and cars zoomed past 24 hours a day at speeds exceeding sixty miles an hour, sending hot wind in the summer and cold breezes in the winter whipping  right across the front porch where everyone spent at least half the day, depending on the seasons. In the summer, mornings were cooler on the front porch and in the winter, the front porch was warmer in the afternoons. Staying inside was not much fun any time of the year.

Being a child, the east Texas temperature extremes didn’t bother me very much, but what I remember most about the house with no A/C, no fans and no screens on the windows, was the acrid smell of burning sulfur that was used to keep the mosquitoes at bay during the hot, humid months between May and September. I vaguely remember the burning sulfur in old jar lids. It was something called “Bee Brand Insect Powder”. It was nasty.

The walls were single structure in nature (no inner walls, that is) and there was no paint inside or out. The roof was tin and the ceiling was made of tiny boards. The wiring, which was new in the late forties ran exposed over the walls to a few receptacles in the living area, which doubled as Grandma’s bedroom and a single light bulb in each room. The only ‘modern’ luxury items, I should say, was a television set that was bought for my mom’s youngest brother in 1957, a console radio with a wind-up phonograph/radio that played 78 speed records on top and a telephone next door at the store.

Baths were taken in a number 3 metal washtub. Water was heated for the bath on a huge wood-burning stove in the kitchen. The water came from a pitcher pump located near a rough wooden table equipped with a porcelain wash basin. Dinner was started about eight in the morning right after breakfast. The stove stayed fired up most of the day with a pot of coffee hovering over one of the burners. Even though my grandparents were on the lower rungs of the economic ladder, they always had people stopping by for supper and coffee. People with even less than they had were never turned away. Bums from the passing trains were given big ‘cat-head biscuits’ filled with apple butter or sometimes, just plain butter. They might repay the kindness by chopping wood for the stove or the big pot-belly heater in the living area/slash master bedroom.

The heat in the kitchen kept the kids out of it, but not the flies. Since I was a favored grandchild (meaning mom kept me clean and in line), I got to sit on the step down from the tiny dining area that held a long wooden trestle table flanked by wooden benches. and swat the flies as they zoomed around the house. The flies made it necessary to cover all the food, cooked and uncooked, with cloths. There was always a slab of homemade butter and  a pitcher of buttermilk, along with biscuits or cornbread on the table. Grandma churned fresh milk in a crockery churn and made the butter and buttermilk with mom’s help.

The cow lived out in a small pasture near the railroad track where the outhouse and tiny barn shook and shuddered with each passing train. Betsy always had company in the form of a calf or two my grandpa bought at auction to raise for butchering. The pork we  frequently enjoyed came from specially earmarked pigs that ran wild in the woods on the other side of the track. They were hunted down annually in the fall, butchered and put in the huge freezer that took up most of the room in which the dining table stood.  The freezer was always full of meat: pork, beef, venison, chicken, squirrels, ducks and a few things I never identified.

Just outside the back door was the ‘workshed’. A low-slung, scary-looking building that was home to rats and chicken snakes where Grandpa kept his old tractor. It was a walk-behind affair that took a strong set of arms attached to a muscular back just to steer it. Here, too, was housed an ancient push mover my uncle used to cut down the weeds around the front porch.

The house, itself was enclosed inside the fence that surrounded the chicken yard, so we had chickens, turkeys, ducks, geese and guineas wandering around under the house, on the back porch and in the barren yard all day, looking for bugs and worms. I loved to help feed the chickens in the mornings (and for some reason, I still love the smell of chicken feed even to this day).  This arrangement supplied an endless supply of fresh eggs, Sunday dinners and holiday meals. I used to follow my grandma and sometimes my mom, around the hen house, holding the big wicker basket while they gathered eggs.

One of the things Tamsin commented on was the homemade soccer ball the Kenyan boys played with. I had a cousin who was an ‘expert’ at making homemade baseballs. I used to watch in utter fascination as he transformed an ordinary rock, bits of cardboard, paper and old rags wrapped with big rubber bands into a baseball. The balls were only useful for maybe one or two games, but it was sufficient fun. Bicycles and little red wagons were out of the question for us. Those were the things dreams were made of and even though my uncle did have one of those fancy kick scooters from Western Auto, underlings, such as I and my cousins, were never allowed to touch it. This did not keep us from worshiping it from afar.

Along with fresh meat, homemade biscuits and cornbread, we always had plenty of fresh or home-canned veggies from grandpa’s garden. Long, summer days were spent picking, shelling, cooking,, and canning a variety of beans, peas and corn. Some of the veggies were seasonal, but I didn’t care for them at the time and thought I should not be forced to work in such a manner since I didn’t eat any of the produce, but the grandparents and mom thought otherwise. Thus I learned much useful information through painful, often tearful, experience.

The outhouse was a particularly interesting experience. It was crude, to say the least, smelly and distinctively unpleasant. The sort of mysterious place that naturally attracts the attention of precocious young children (such as myself). I received many spankings for sneaking off to the outhouse to throw various items down into the cess pit. I cannot fathom why such a thing might have seemed interesting at the time, but who can plumb the depths of the mind of a five-year-old? It was on one of these adventures, when I was around five, that one of the most harrowing of my childhood mishaps occurred. I was standing on the seat inside the outhouse, hiding from my cousins during a rowdy game of hide and go seek, when suddenly I lost my balance and fell into the pit. I only remember screaming as loud as I could and then being pulled out by a pair of strong arms. The next thing I remembered was a tremendous dousing with freezing water and a fierce-faced group of grownups scowling at me as I lay shivering on Grandma’s bed.

I am thankful for one thing above all else from those wonderfully innocent years spent at Grandma’s house and that was the intervention of the very hand of God that kept me from falling head first into that pit!!

Cons of Laziness

When I was a child, my mother used to tell me that being lazy was more work than work. At first, I did not understand her reasoning and so, as children are wont to do, I ignored her. I didn’t think of myself as being lazy, per se, but rather as being discriminating about how and when I spent my precious energy. I later learned that my idea was simply another example of what Mother was talking about: Using twelve words to describe something when one word would have sufficed. Lazy.

By the time I graduated from high school I had gotten a better grip on what Mom was trying to tell me. I saw my friends struggling daily to concoct innovative methods and techniques for avoiding work. I noted many instances wherein these friends, whom my mother would have called ‘lazy’ and been done with them, spent far more time, energy and sometimes money to avoid doing something they could have accomplished with much greater ease had they simply done what needed to be done when it needed to be done. In the end, the ‘work’ still needed to be done and was usually twice as hard due to the time delay. For example, the grass was taller, the stain was set, the food was dried on the dishes, etc.

Most of the innovative methods my friends and later co-workers used to get out of work involved blaming someone else for causing the work to be necessary in the first place and then trying to invoke the idea of ‘fair play’ as an excuse to pass along the work to someone else in the second place. Unfortunately, placing the blame and then whining generally never worked and more like than not just made the whiner look not only lazy, but petulant. Two qualities not well liked by moms and/or supervisors.

One of the worst examples I saw of the Blame/Whine approach occurred when I worked as a supervisor over an institutional food service department where the workers were seasoned criminals and self-proclaimed experts on how to avoid work. Blame/Whine was always the first impulse and deeply ingrained in the prison psyche as the first line of defense when ‘supervisors’, ‘officers’ or ‘bosses’ tried to get them to do work.

I was having trouble with the ventilation system on the cooks’ floor at the time. The vent hoods above nine pizza-style ovens and five 80 gallon steam pots were not working properly. There were no windows in the area and the temperature was reaching upwards of 120 degrees Fahrenheit. I passed through the area to check the vents and the temperature and make sure the four cooks I had preparing the evening meal were drinking plenty of water and taking breaks.

When I walked into the cooks’ area, I felt as if I had been struck a physical blow by the heat. The four cooks were struggling over two steam pots full of boiling foods. They looked extremely stressed by the heat and I could not believe how hot it was. I was about to shut the meal down and evacuate the area when I discovered that all nine of the pizza ovens were turned on and set at 350 degrees. The ovens were empty and had not been used since biscuits had been baked some three to four hours earlier in the day.

I turned to the cooks and asked them why the ovens were on and were they going to bake something I didn’t know about.

They all shook their heads and answered in the negative. Nothing to bake.

I frowned in puzzlement and asked “why didn’t you turn the ovens off?”

One of them replied quite quickly in a decidedly irritable tone “we didn’t turn them on; first shift did it!”

“Oh,” I said “then I’ll call them back to turn them off. Don’t worry. I won’t let them get away with wasting gas.”

Needless to say, the ovens were off when I passed that way again.bars

Sunday is Funday ~ Somebody Wrote a Song About It

I am not ashamed of the fact that I took the day off today (well, almost, I did have to cook a little) and worked on a silly project.

I created a new board on Pinterest and pinned some of my favorite images of mysterious objects from around the world along with the usual conspiracy theory associated with each one. I then used my powerful special sensory perception to gain esoteric knowledge about these images. I then listed my own ideas about what each object might actually represent. Each item has one or more explanations to choose from. I invite all my special friends and fellow conspiracy theorist/ancient alien theorist friends and loved ones to cast his or her respective eyes, whether they be single, double or compound in nature, upon my work for the day. Comments are welcome both here and on Pinterest.

Just a precautionary warning admonishment type notice: P1bf6eb696804dc766809473a78388d01lease be aware of the possibility that your former beliefs and/or dogmas and/or sanity could be seriously challenged by reading my special intuitive insightfulness.

http://pinterest.com/brendancarrol7/mysteriousness/

Disclaimer: Just remember, these things are not of my making, but are left to our imaginations to interpret. If the ancients did not want us musing about WTF they were thinking, then they shouldn’t have left these things lying around for just anyone to find. 

Another Look at Racism

This will be short, but I saw something on Facebook this morning that succinctly proves my point: Ignorance & Racism go hand in hand.

Ignorance is simply the lack of knowledge. Knowledge requires work. Work requires energy. People of all races inherently seek the path of less resistance; the path requiring the least expenditure of energy.

It’s hard to trust, but verify. Acceptance without question is what tyrants depend on. Publish the lie and let  it evolve into truth through repetition. They trust that insufficient numbers will expend the energy necessary to verify.

I read a post from the Tea Party about one of their outspoken black members. His first name was Niger. The comments that followed were typical of  “Tenebrae Supersum” (Excess Ignorance) Oh, by the way, I don’t really speak Latin, but I love to make up faux Latin phrases because doing so makes fun of my own ignorance.

Back to my story. Niger is pronounced Nyjer, long I, soft G. It is taken from the African country of the same name. The comments below the the Tea Party post about Niger were made in ignorance of both the preceding facts either through deficient knowledge of basic spelling rules and/or sad incompetence in the area of geography.

You can infer the nature of the comments from the preceding paragraph.

Conclusion: Racism is propagated, encouraged and exacerbated by the intelligentsia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intelligentsia) upon the proletariat (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Proliterian) in the war on freedom, liberty and enlightenment.

(The map on the right shows the country of Niger in Africa. Please note the country just south of Niger. NIGERIA! Imagine that! But wait, there’s more. These two African country names are the source of the so-called N-word, which was again simply a matter of  poor education, lack of spelling and pronunciation skills and  ignorance of basic geography. Ask anyone on the street where to find the African countries of Niger and Nigeria and they’ll probably say they don’t exist, and call  you a racist or say Canada.)Niger