Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Being nice

On being a nice foolish, wanton simpleton

Origin of “nice” (from Merriam-Webster) Middle English, foolish, wanton, from Anglo-French, silly, simple, from Latin nescius ignorant, from nescire not to know. First Known Use: 14th century.

Etymology is the study of the history of words, their origins, and how their form and meaning have changed over time. By an extension, the term "the etymology of [a word]" means the origin of the particular word. Semantic change (also semantic shift, semantic progression or semantic drift) is the evolution of word usage — usually to the point that the modern meaning is radically different from the original usage. (from Wikipedia)

I attended a live-in post secondary educational facility for more or less (mostly less) a year after high school. It was a rather closed little community and the kids there had mysteriously adapted a language of modified english, german, and low german which no one on the outside world could decipher. It was a school where we studied one of the biggy religions of our time. Being nice, the major realization I came to from this fundamentally principled institute of learning was our inability to grasp the meaning not just of words, but the concepts of people who lived two thousand years ago. If the kids in this school could accomplish a radical semantic shift in words and phrases in just a couple of years how could a prosecuted group of very early followers of Jesus, who obviously would spend much time together, not develop a double speak if for no other reason than for their own protection.

Barbara Thiering has visualized a world in which early followers used a pesher, a system of speaking and writing where one word directly stood for another word, so they could tell a parable with one meaning to an audience but only those who understood the pesher would know the real meaning. The academic world has rejected her theory as unproven and for me, the simpleton, it would be an immense undertaking to remember the meanings of all those words. However, she opens up a remarkable vision of Christianities earliest days and there is a grain of truth in everything.

When the wanton me pictures a parable I always have this feeling that there's something more to this story than I'll ever comprehend. Something these early followers were aware of kept them together. What came of it later is history, and as Napoleon said “History is a set of lies agreed upon.”

At that post secondary institute we would attend various churches. We could go anywhere as long as we went. Foolish me would sometimes partake of an older order Mennonite low german church service. When they prayed there was dead silent concentration and you could feel the static so strong your hair would tingle. This universe has forces we haven't begun to comprehend. Words try to describe them. Parables possibly do it best. Semantic progression changes the meanings of the words, but the forces out there remain the same. May the force be with you. Shalom.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Man oh man old man I am


I still have a tool, it's called a slide rule
It's powered by porridge and steak
It slides back and forth on the flick of a whim
And calculates wealth oft with scorn

I have too a board and a t-square to boot
And angles and curves which can draw
Mansions with gold faucets and huge walk in closets
At scales of one thousand to one

My efforts at schooling were driven by yearning
For knowledge of cathodes that glowed
With a punch card inserted they'd give you the gigo
When loops just had no where to go

My commodore sixteen was hooked to the tv
The numbers came live on the screen
Games were envisioned with wild contusions
Till the memory was thrashed for the crash

Learned booting with floppies, dos pirated from Gates
Used Basic as the backdrop for programing
Silly paradigms with no hope of reward, so
Succumbed to compilers but my dog chewed them up

First cads were a nightmare, they should have been outlawed
Just took my computer and pawned it for greenbacks
And took my dog fishing, him with his floppies
Now that I'm ancient I just use it for porn

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Kleptocratic democracy

Kleptocratic democracy (a dispassionate journey which insinuates next to nothing)

Government of the corporate masters, by the corporate masters, for the corporate masters, in control of a pseudo democratically elected knavish ideological great leader, via a divide and conquer modus operandi, who disdains the views and needs of the majority of his demography.

From Wikipedia: banana republic, kleptocracy:

Kleptocracy, alternatively cleptocracy or kleptarchy, from Greek: κλέπτης (thief) and κράτος (rule), is a term applied to a government subject to control fraud that takes advantage of governmental corruption to extend the personal wealth and political power of government officials and the ruling class (collectively, kleptocrats), via the embezzlement of state funds at the expense of the wider population, sometimes without even the pretense of honest service. The term means "rule by thieves". Not an "official" form of government (such as democracy, republic, monarchy, theocracy), the term is a pejorative for governments perceived to have a particularly severe and systemic problem with the selfish misappropriation of public funds by those in power.”

“In economics, a banana republic is a country operated as a commercial enterprise for private profit, effected by a collusion between the State and favoured monopolies, in which the profit derived from the private exploitation of public lands is private property, while the debts incurred thereby are a public responsibility. Such an imbalanced economy remains limited by the uneven economic development of town and country, and tends to cause the national currency to become devalued paper-money, rendering the country ineligible for international development-credit. Such government by thieves is a kleptocracy; such a kleptocratic government is manipulated by foreign (corporate) interests, and functions mostly as ceremonial government that is unaccountable to its nation. The national legislature is, in effect, for sale, influential government employees illegitimately exploit their posts for personal gain (by embezzlement, fraud, bribery, etc.), and the resulting government budget deficit is repaid by the country's working people who earn wages rather than making profits.”

Kleptocracies are generally associated with corrupt forms of authoritarian governments, particularly dictatorships, oligarchies, military juntas, or some other forms of autocratic and nepotist government in which no outside oversight is possible, due to the ability of the kleptocrat(s) to personally control both the supply of public funds and the means of determining their disbursal. Kleptocratic rulers typically treat their country's treasury as though it were their own personal bank account, spending the funds on luxury goods as they see fit. Many kleptocratic rulers also secretly transfer public funds into secret personal numbered bank accounts in foreign countries in order to provide them with continued luxury if/when they are eventually removed from power and forced to leave the country.”
Kleptocracy is most common in developing countries whose economies are based on the export of natural resources. Such export incomes constitute a form of economic rent and are therefore easier to siphon off without causing the income itself to decrease (for example, due to capital flight as investors pull out to escape the high taxes levied by the kleptocrats).

The effects of a kleptocratic regime or government on a nation are typically adverse in regards to the faring of the state's economy, political affairs and civil rights. Kleptocracy in government often vitiates prospects of foreign investment and drastically weakens the domestic market and cross-border trade. As the kleptocracy normally embezzles money from its citizens by misusing funds derived from tax payments, or money laundering schemes, a kleptocratically structured political system tends to degrade nearly everyone's quality of life.

In addition, the money that kleptocrats steal is often taken from funds that were earmarked for public amenities, such as the building of hospitals, schools, roads, parks and the like – which has further adverse effects on the quality of life of the citizens living under a kleptocracy. The quasi-oligarchy that results from a kleptocratic elite also subverts democracy (or any other political format the state is ostensibly under).”

From wiseGEEK:

“Conditions ideal for exploiting workers are propagated by sham democracies in banana republics. A pseudo-democracy means that elections are rigged, so that a pre-selected candidate is guaranteed victory. This puppet leader has ensured the colonial or corporate power that he will follow their directives to make the most profit. Other methods of instituting a compliant government include the staging of political coups, where the foreign power backs an insurrection, often resulting in assassination of the current leader. The military coup only succeeds with weapons and resources secured by a foreign power. Once in control, the new government might be further supported with foreign subsidies to their agricultural crops.

The concept of banana republics has evolved with the changing political climate. For instance, more than fruit, resources such as oil and coffee spurred banana republics in the 20th century. Corruption at all levels usually arises in these unstable governments, breeding a system rife with bribes and black markets. Increasing privatization of basic social services leaves the population with reduced wages and worsening living conditions. Critics of the United States frequently relate its policies to the phenomenon of banana republics both in South America and the Middle East.”

Les remords de la patrie
Demographic splits:

The application of the principle of democracy has a great obstacle. The general population of every country is divided on how they view life and on how they should be governed. The best we as humanity have developed so far is the election of representatives who usually belong to a party, and the party with most representatives elected forms a government, or a coalition of these parties will form a government. This leaves a large portion of the population, often a majority, with no real say in the decisions made. Advertising has swayed voters into the hands of those with the largest purse strings – it is an accepted fact that advertising buys votes.

Advertising buys votes, it also buys our soles. Viewed as an addiction or as a freely chosen life style, consumerism and the economics which thrives on it, has become the driving force behind the thoughts and tribulations of our great leaders. These leaders get most of their political advertising money from large corporations who also endow the general population with a host of essential products and a glorious lifestyle. It is more these corporations than politicians who must draw a fine line between filling their pockets and keeping us addicts content. But corporations are greedy and the pacifying of the electorate is not native to their id. So they pay off politicians to do the dirty work for them.

Thus we have: pick a sucker who has your views, school him, enrich his ego, place him in prominent positions, and finally back him financially into the backdoor world of politics. If he's not a total dunce he'll go places the rest of the world wouldn't want to dream of going. “And let me make myself perfectly clear.” (about the facts of life perhaps?)

Problem is, there are many of us who are content with home made soup and a good book and a walk in the park. Have a fun job and not to worry about the future. And don't vote, just attend every anarchist rally you can find. Not me of course, just saying. This is what you call a demographic split, and it's what our sucker politician is yearning to utilize. Anyone who doesn't buy the glorious life style becomes an anarchist, or communist, or ant-Semitic, or terrorist. Divide the good law abiding, tax paying citizens from the wicked – divide and conquer. How could you not vote for this hero?

As the title says, just a dispassionate journey, insinuating next to nothing.


Wikipedia www.en.wikipedia.org/
wiseGEEK www.wisegeek.com/
‎ A Theory of Divide-and-Rule: Kleptocracy and Its Breakdown Xuezheng CHEN

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Hologenic brains

Blew the first two days of the rest of my life
Thought it might come in handy to educate my brain
Learned about brain microtubule vibrations
And the holonistic approach to life
Amazing stuff that wave collapse thing
Quantum computing inside my skull
String theory envisioning that out in deep space
My brain will develope outside it's case
And billions of versions will leave me insane
Oh dum de dum de dum

Monday, February 17, 2014

Offshoot biker gang goes green

Offshoot biker gang goes green

Bunkum News reporter Crystal Really met with Igor the Terrible in a rare face to face meeting on a trip to southern California last week. Igor was rumoured to have split with his mentor bros to found a new order in the motorcycle club world.

Igor told Crystal Really that he had no ill will toward his former colleagues, but he just loved electric bikes, and this didn't necessarily go over too well with a bunch of Harley enthusiasts. With his love for bikes and speed he just could not resist the new Lightning bikes which went over 200 mph and left the old Harleys in the dust. And he loved the silence – no one could hear him coming.

He was also really hyped up about his new venture into green energy. He didn't like paying anyone for electricity so his club, the Heaven's Nerds, were buying up chunks of property in the Nevada desert were they planned to set up huge solar and wind energy projects. He said there was more money available from the government for this type of operation than he could ever make “Bustin peoples' heads,” and the future for green energy was so rosy it just made him giddy. And he could race his bikes all he wanted with “no friggin cops botherin me.”

When asked about the unique patch he was wearing, Igor just about cracked up and said yes, it might be a take off from his old associates. But he immediately reiterated that there were no hard feelings, and his old buds had been out in the desert “drinkin beer and racin bikes more than ever”.

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Love me gentle, love me sweet

I used to frig around with magnets and coils of wire. Tesla was my hero. None of my own inventions ever worked very well and most of them ended up in a heap on my bench. One time I'd been working on this Tesla light bulb thing. It had a huge coil of wire and some camera parts on top, but it just would not work. So there it sat on my bench.

I was sitting there on my stool sort of disheartened and my cat Pandy came by. Of course he figured this was a good time for some attention so I started petting him and he was totally enjoying it and purring away. And if that stupid light didn't start glowing. The louder Pandy purred the brighter it glowed.

Well, what was causing this? Was it static? Pandy had had enough so off he went and the light went out. I sat there in wonder and my mind drifted off to supper time and my wife and how sweet she was and if that stupid light didn't start glowing again. Well this time it wasn't static. Incredible. The light went out and sat there dead cold. I gave up and went in for supper.

I told my wife about my project, and after we finished the dishes she came with me to the shop to see my contraption. There it sat on the bench cold as ice. She gave me a big hug before heading back to the house and over my shoulder she giggled “your lights on”. We both looked in amazement as it slowly faded back out. She said “Lets try this again” and she hugged me again and if that stupid light didn't start glowing again. She gave me a big kiss and it got even brighter! Well heavens to Betsy.

The next few weeks were rather entertaining as we tried different things to get the light glowing. We even had our neighbours come by and had them hug in the shop. They thought we were pulling some kind of a weird hoax on them. The thrill sort of wore off and I was busy with work so the project just sat there. This whole story might have ended right here if these nice gentlemen hadn't stopped by.

My guess is they got wind of my ventures into metaphysics from our fast becoming allusive neighbours. This shop hugging thing hadn't been my brightest idea, not that I have many. Anyhow, these gents showed up in an unobtrusive black Taurus and gave a hefty knock on our door. I remember the words “Being charged with diabolical insubordination” if I didn't cooperate with them in investigating paranormal activities emanating from my shop.

So, not wanting to be insubordinate, diabolical or not, I cheerily unlocked my shop and showed them my coil of wires with the light bulb. They seemed to snicker a little and then one asked me if I'd heard of Tesla, and me being sort of on to them by now said “Tessy who?” and they let it drop at that. We chated a few minutes about the nice weather and then the tall one said they'd best be going so he could be back for his daughter's birthday that night, and you could tell he really loved his daughter cause he got kinda choked up, and if that stupid light didn't come on real bright.

Jumpin Jehosaphat! The black Taurus got pulled around the back and out came cameras and detectors and insulated boxes and when they were gone three hours later my work bench was bare and they'd cleaned up most of the other junk laying around too. Never even said goodbye.

My good wife said “Well, they saved you a trip to the dump,” and we figured that was that. I got rather philosophical about the whole thing after a time figuring that factories would have a real production problem if everyone had to keep a huggin and kissin to keep the lights on. And if it got advanced enough to power automobiles there might be more than a few traffic jams due to distracted drivers. Well enough to leave it alone.

Surprisingly an unmarked delivery van came by about six months later and they piled everything back neatly in the middle of my shop for me. There was a brief note with it from some outfit called the bureau of investigative surveillance which in not too kind words told me my stuff was a pile of junk and they had tried everything to make that light come on and that I was an idiot and if I kept this up I would bamboozle myself straight into the court house for public mischief. I was sort of chuckling to myself while reading this because my Pandy had come by to get his tummy rubbed and that stupid light was on as bright as ever. That bureau of investigative surveillance must be one bitter environment to work in.

I buried my Pandy at the ripe old age of twenty-three and put my light project in with him. The light was on as I covered him, and I'm sure it comes on to this day when I think of him. Bye Pandy Pandy.

Friday, February 14, 2014

Man hater tart vs chauvinist pig

Went to Walmart today to find a nice tart
Had visions of sweetness filling my heart
Just wanted to taste one and savor it's fill
Desire consumed me never mind the bill

The search was intended to enhance the pleasure
So into the pet food I went for good measure
And to my surprise I did see a nice pie
But it's label said catnip not what I'd try

I hid in men's clothing and peeked down the aisles
Ignoring promotions the site lines were miles
When something enticed me way past the barrage
Rats, my eyes had deceived me it was just a mirage

So hither the food court I wandered nonchalantly
And into the pastries and there I found promptly
A tart so inviting my heart was just lopen
But trying was vain it's wrapper to open

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Oil sands - lookout polar vortex

Canadian oil sands development reinforcing polar vortex drift

The polar vortex is a mass of cold air which in winter rotates counter clockwise over the polar region in a cyclone fashion. An influx of warm air in the upper atmosphere (stratosphere) can cause this cyclone to weaken and even reverse at which time parts of the cold air mass can break off and be pulled southward by the jet stream.

In a usual northern-hemisphere winter, several minor warming events occur, with a major event occurring roughly every two years. One reason for major stratospheric warmings to occur in the Northern hemisphere is because orography and land-sea temperature contrasts are responsible for the generation of long Rossby waves in the troposphere (lower atmosphere). These waves travel upward to the stratosphere and are dissipated there, decelerating the winds and warming the Arctic.

Bunkum News, after obtaining an email through the freedom of information act, has learned that the Canadian government and the corporate oil industry have a two fold purpose in developing the oil sands. The first is obviously to produce and sell crude, but the second is rather devious. The heat from this massive development generates Rossby waves which because of their location in northern Alberta greatly augment any natural warming trends heading north in the stratosphere. This causes more major warmings to occur in the polar vortex and thus America has more cold spells and more oil and gas will be sold often at a premium rate.

 Since most of the oil sands bitumen is buried under about 200 feet of sediment, Steam Assisted Gravity Drainage (SAGD) is used to extract it. This involves the drilling of two horizontal wells, one at the bottom of the formation and another about 15 feet above it. The upper well injects steam into the reservoir. The resulting heat melts the bitumen which allows gravity to assist it to flow to the lower well, and the bitumen is pumped to the surface.

SAGD is still largely a brute-force method of sucking up deeply buried bitumen. At Christina Lake for example, pairs of perforated wells sink 375 meters deep, reaching a layer of bitumen 25 to 30 meters thick. There, the wells flatten out to run 800 meters horizontally through the lower third of the deposit, one well five meters above the other. Steam is forced through the top wells at 250 °C to heat and eventually melt the bitumen, which drains away from the sand, clay, and other minerals. The bottom “production” wells then suck a mix of water and melted bitumen to the surface, where the water is separated from the bitumen and recycled. Finally, the bitumen is blended with a hydrocarbon diluent to make it thin enough for pipelines before being handed off to an adjacent oil terminal and beginning its journey to refineries in the United States.

The site itself is more like a medium-sized chemical plant than a mining facility. Towering over it are five 32-meter-tall steam generators; four more are under construction. These mammoth furnaces burn natural gas and blast out 250 million BTUs of steam per hour. In all they put out the heat equivalent of 50,000 backyard grills. (With every hour of combustion and heat from Christina Lake’s steam generators comes 75 metric tons of carbon dioxide emissions—roughly 45 kilograms of carbon dioxide for every barrel of bitumen.)
The bad news for Alberta’s oil-sands industry is that Christina Lake is a best-case scenario for SAGD today. They need to steam just two barrels of water to produce a barrel of bitumen, making it Alberta’s most efficient in situ (non surface disturbing) operation. Competitors (and most future SAGD operations) must target thinner bitumen deposits, some streaked with rock and water that divert injected heat. As a result, the average barrel of bitumen produced via SAGD last year required just under three barrels of steam, according to Alberta’s Energy Resource Conservation Board. That’s why, once shipping and refining are taken into account, Alberta’s in situ production process creates far more greenhouse-gas emissions than making fuel from conventional crude.
According to the National Energy Board, it requires about 1,200 cubic feet (34m3) of natural gas to produce one barrel of bitumen from in situ projects. Since a barrel of oil equivalent is about 6,000 cubic feet (170m3) of gas, this represents a large gain in energy. That being the case, it is likely that Alberta regulators will reduce exports of natural gas to the United States in order to provide fuel to the oil sands plants. As gas reserves are exhausted, however, oil upgraders will probably turn to bitumen gasification to generate their own fuel. In much the same way as bitumen can be converted into synthetic crude oil, it can also be converted into synthetic natural gas.

Okay, back to the effect on the polar vortex. The oil sands are producing 1.5 million barrels of oil per day today. This requires 180 million cubic feet of gas to extract it (per day). For a rough idea on how much this is, it takes about 94,800 cubic feet of gas to heat a newer Canadian home for a year. This works out to heating 693,025 homes. All this heat is forced into relatively small areas and the ground heating is immense, up to 250 degrees C. Heat rises and disperses into the atmosphere but in summer when the temperature in the air is higher than in the ground little dispersion takes place, so most of the heat is radiated in winter when the temperature differential is the greatest. The email which Bunkum News obtained explains that the heated area of one half to one mile square expanses are the perfect size to generate extremely powerful Rossby waves which head straight up into the stratosphere and combine with incoming heat waves from the Pacific. This heat is all slowing down the polar vortex allowing it to intrude the southern realms.

So for our friends to the south if you don't believe this story at least you learned about our polar vortex and how the oil sands work. And don't let the cold get to you, it's a balmy plus 5 degrees Fahrenheit in Winnipeg today and we're all out in our short pants enjoying the sunshine.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Gm slugs to fuel our future







 Top Stories >

Monsanto genetically modifies slugs to produce oil

Bunkum News has learned that Monsanto has been granted a patent for a slug which will be able to produce an oily slim which is highly combustible.  A scientist with Monsanto, Bartholomew Tarradiddle, interviewed by Bunkum News reporter Crystal Really, said Monsanto had been working on modifying the little beasties to make them susceptible to one of their herbicides when they realized they had found a gene which could alter the type of slim it produced.

Tarradiddle said this slug, deroceras reticulatum is almost exclusively restricted to cultivated areas, usually in open habitats, in meadows, near roadsides, in ruins, gardens and parks, not inside forests. It shelters under stones and ground litter (It does not burrow into the soil). It is active at night.

This species is omnivorous, feeding mainly on fresh leaves and fruits or seedings.  Deroceras reticulatum is a serious pest of agricultural crops, garden cultivations and horticulture.  After several years with continuous moist weather conditions abundance can seriously increase. Life cycle covers a few months, usually two generations.
The main reproductive phase is in summer and autumn. It lays hundreds of eggs which hatch during early summer. Maximum age is about a year. Slugs die at the first frosts. Usually only eggs hibernate, sometimes also juveniles. This species originated in Europe and Northern Africa but has in modern times invaded parts of the USA and Canada, and has become especially devastating to soybean crops in Argentina.
A spokesperson for Monsanto who would only speak off record, told Bunkum News that they were fostering the modified slugs in a concrete cistern by feeding them garbage and they were reproducing profusely. He said they had scraped the slim off the floor and walls and experimented with burning it in an oil furnace. He said the game plan was to sell slugs to home owners so they could raise them in their basements and heat their homes with the goop. He also laughingly said Monsanto would make most of their money from them through lawsuits for illegal possession because the little rascals were next to impossible to keep in a confined space.

Waiting for the bus?

I'm waiting and waiting and waiting some more
I'm committed to waiting, but my bums getting sore
Been waiting all morning since the sun came up
And I'll wait here till midnight before I give up

Once I was thumbing when my years were still light
Walked mile after mile with no car in sight
On the back of a sign post still partly showing
Words which still haunt me, “Where are you going?”

This bus shack's for real, my minds pretty sane
But this trail disturbs me, am I waiting in vain?
And now in the tree top a sign not encouraging
A vulture sits croaking, oh how disparaging

This must be a lesson taught by a yogi who's feet
Take his soul down this path to a drum of different beat
He's teaching me patience and humility with spite
So I'll just sit here, hope's not out of sight

Where am I going? I have no great plan
My days are enlightening, I take what I can
My years have imparted me with wisdom and trust
So I'll just keep waiting, laugh if you must

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Thou Shalt Not Lie

Oh joy, please forgive me but I just found my shoe
The sole was in heaven, the laces at Seven-Eleven
It's loss was amusing, the search took repenting
Now my wisdom is missing, I'll have to try Sears

My wife's watching tele, straight Deja View
She has her own theories on how they should slue
Confused in the present, mixes up the past
Can't help but love her, her smile's a blast

I was told in my youth, nonsense was uncouth
But logic is futile when the cats need a bath
The lucky thing is, I can make up a lie
And tell her sincerely “But there's no hair dye”

The fruit's in the oven, the soap's in the fridge
The plates are in the garbage, but not to despair
We can search together for all things amiss
And when we do find them, she's in pure bliss

Oh nuts, now I'm Popeye, I'll have to pretend
That I really love spinach, and have muscles to fend
It's good to be a hero and rescue that mouse
From her cats who do love her (fed ten times a day)

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

The Tale of George and Peter Rabbit

Befuddled George sat on his throne absorbed in conversation with Peter Rabbit. Peter Rabbit had persuaded George to come with him to Mr. McGregor's garden so they could knock over the scare crow, so George arose from his throne and put on his hat and coat and followed Peter Rabbit out the door. Across the street they went and into the back yard of Mr. McGregor where Peter Rabbit lived with his family in a hole in the ground with a nice kitchen, which was really a bomb shelter (little known to George). They climbed into the hole and Peter Rabbit's mom made them a nice pot of chamomile tea which George really enjoyed.

Then it was time to tackle the scare crow. George looked up at it and it was metal and tall with a large round face on top. George said to Peter Rabbit “This is too strong to knock over but maybe if I climb to the top I can knock the face off so it won't scare anyone.”  Peter Rabbit jumped up and down and said “Yes, please try.” So George started climbing and got half way up when Mr. McGregor came out the back door. Mr. McGregor was startled and blurted “Who are you up there climbing my tower, what are you doing?” And George rather taken aback said “Peter Rabbit wants me to knock the face off your scare crow.” Well, Mr. McGregor was so dumbfounded he went back in his house and called the police.

George continued climbing but when he neared the top he was distracted by the whoop, whoop of a siren coming down the back lane. A fancy car with lights all flashing stopped right behind the house and out got no one other than Tommy Brock, the veteran kidnapper. George thought “Oh no, he's coming to get Peter Rabbit,” but Tommy came over to the scarecrow and looking up said “Hey you up there, I've come to take you away, away, and if you don't come down now I'll call the fire department and they'll carry you down.” So George not wanting to be carried down by the fire department slowly climbed all the way back down to the ground.

When George got to the ground Tommy put a big net over him and dragged him over to the fancy car and stuffed him in the back seat. Tommy drove George all the way to one of Mr. Tod's houses and put him in an iron cage that Mr. Tod had built in the back corner. In the mean time, Peter Rabbit, who had been hiding behind a big cabbage when Tommy came, and knew that Tommy was not a nice man and would make a big pie out of George, had followed the fancy car all the way to Mr. Tod's house. Peter Rabbit sneaked into Mr. Tod's house because the door was open just a crack, and saw George in the steel cage with a huge lock on the door. Peter Rabbit saw that Tommy, with a big bag of doughnuts, had dozed off at the table and a big key was right there in front of him. So very quietly Peter Rabbit jumped up on the table, but the key was too heavy for him to carry, so he jumped down and pushed a broom so George could just reach it.

Peter Rabbit whispered to George “Hook the key with the broom, and when you get the key, put it in the lock real quite and turn it.” So George hooked the key with the broom and put the key in the lock and turned it and the door came open ever so gently. Peter Rabbit whispered “Follow me.” So George and Peter Rabbit real quietly sneaked out the open door and hiding from everyone in the back lanes, made their way back to Peter Rabbit's house where George lived quite happily with Peter Rabbit's family for many years, eating Mr. McGregor's vegetables. Because Mr. McGregor never went into his bomb shelter he didn't know George was there with the rabbits, and Tommy couldn't find George either. And George never climbed up the scarecrow ever again.

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Garbage Terrorists

Found this nailed to our entrance.  Caretaker must have rite him a note.  Don't know how he finds time to help out like this :)     Strange though, we don't even have a recycling bin cause it had a habit of being burnt to the ground.

A Message from Prime Minister S. Harper to the tenants of Deathrock Apartments

We have been made aware of a grave concern for all Canadians. We have a growing proportion of tenants at Deathrock Apartments whose minds are being mislead by the garbage terrorists of our new age. These terrorists are attacking scientifically, pier reviewed principles such as the growth of the GDP, and the recycling of garbage to save our planet.

Our economic free market system and the concept of recycling are unquestionable laws – realities of our universe. We must have economic growth and keep increasing our GDP for everything to function properly. That is how we create money so everyone can have their fair share.

The free market rewards those who work hard and are honest and pay their debts. Dishonesty, laziness, and sinful overspending should not be rewarded. Anyone who works hard, saves, and recycles can and will make it. Being poor and hungry is a good incentive to go to work and recycle.

Recycling by leaving your recyclables in the recycling bins so conveniently provided at the rear of your building is a reality of our new age. Recycling laziness will lead to depression and drug abuse which is exactly what the garbage terrorists wish to achieve so they can sell you more drugs.

In order to save the people of Canada from the garbage terrorists who are trying to undermine these scientific principles, the Harper Conservative Government's Action Plan for Canada is going to move forward with the following important directive:

We will be building large detainment centers as our neighbor to the south has had to do. The garbage terrorists are extremely intelligent people and in our fight against terror we must use every means possible to stop their propaganda. Our present penal institutions are almost full of common criminals so we need places to detain those amongst us who aim to poison our minds by leaving recyclable garbage on the ground, promoting a zero growth economy, or making the arts a full time work instead of something you do in the evening for relaxation. These ideas must be and will be stopped.

The Harper Conservative Government was elected by Canadians and we will continue to talk with you so we can continue to change our country to make it more the way you want your country to be. We are committed to fighting garbage terrorism and we will look after this grave concern for you.

One small step to the recycling bin is one large step for mankind!

Your friend, Stevie

Backlane Blues

The City of Winnipeg tried something about ten years ago. They put dumpsters up and down the back lanes of the less affluent districts of our fair city. They called it a rehabilitative effort to train us delinquents how to keep our city clean. Needless to say it was not a total success and they have been removed to dumpster heaven.

Rehabilitative endeavors
The Stonehedge of the core
What our city fathers fathomed
Could we ask for more?

Green monsters of the back lanes
Lunging out at cars
Going up in glorious flames
For those who would be stars

So here we all must gather
To give our last just dues
To all those battered relics
Where we put our pee-us

Oh garbage truck I pray
Please come and make my day
The stench is friggin crazy
And the flies are in my way

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Where you from, man?

Not to offend you, but...
Where you from, man?

I've got another confession to make
I'm your fool
We live in cities you'll never see onscreen
Not very pretty, but we all sure know how to run things
Livin' in ruins of a palace within my dreams
And you know we're on each others team
I feel good
I walk alone
But then I trip upon myself and I fall
I stand up and then I'm okay
But then you print some shit that makes me wanna scream
One thousand lonely stars
Hiding in the cold
Take it, oh I don't wanna sing anymore
Is some one getting the best, the best, the best of you
I've got another confession to make my friend
I'm no fool
Foo Fighters, Lorde, Lady Gaga, Daft Punk, Foo Fighters

Ya gotta do what ya gotta do

There was a nice lady who lived on a farm
She raised chickens and pigs and stayed out of harm
Had a big garden and fruit bushes too
And three blind cats who ate all the rats

And on her farm she had a small still
In a small shed at the bottom of the hill
She had three husbands all buried in a row
They mostly died from drinking her swill

She'd been on a space ship that took her to Mars
Always been fortuitous since visiting the stars
They'd taught her of magics and strange looking men
And showed her the wonders in a time back when

She talked with the ghosts when she made a good batch
About life in the suburbs and high in Nepal
She knew all the wisdom of wise men she'd catch
In her journeys to remote places over the dell

Her dress was impeccable as was her mind
And bamboozled her neighbors with merely a wink
Wives would find broomsticks to beat their behind
When husbands were tempted to have a small drink

There was a nice lady who lived on a farm
It's a mystery to fathom her gracious good charm
Her beasties all loved her except for one cat
Who'd never recovered after a fall in the vat