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User Journal

Journal Journal: If a NutJob makes sense, then am I a NUT also for agreeing?

When someone interprets as derogatory almost anything that is said
      about him (or about groups with whom he identifies) we conclude that
      he has inferiority feelings or low self-esteem. This tendency is
      pronounced among minority rights advocates, whether or not they belong
      to the minority groups whose rights they defend. They are
      hypersensitive about the words used to designate minorities. The terms
      "negro," "oriental," "handicapped" or "chick" for an African, an
      Asian, a disabled person or a woman originally had no derogatory
      connotation. "Broad" and "chick" were merely the feminine equivalents
      of "guy," "dude" or "fellow." The negative connotations have been
      attached to these terms by the activists themselves. Some animal
      rights advocates have gone so far as to reject the word "pet" and
      insist on its replacement by "animal companion." Leftist
      anthropologists go to great lengths to avoid saying anything about
      primitive peoples that could conceivably be interpreted as negative.
      They want to replace the word "primitive" by "nonliterate." They seem
      almost paranoid about anything that might suggest that any primitive
      culture is inferior to our own. (We do not mean to imply that
      primitive cultures ARE inferior to ours. We merely point out the
      hypersensitivity of leftish anthropologists.)

Those who are most sensitive about "politically incorrect"
      terminology are not the average black ghetto-dweller, Asian immigrant,
      abused woman or disabled person, but a minority of activists, many of
      whom do not even belong to any "oppressed" group but come from
      privileged strata of society. Political correctness has its stronghold
      among university professors, who have secure employment with
      comfortable salaries, and the majority of whom are heterosexual, white
      males from middle-class families.

User Journal

Journal Journal: I wrote it, I own it, but I don't know where it came from.

Sitting at the beach with bucket and pail in hand... Wondering where the water goes after it falls off the edge, and why the water is suddenly attacking my sand castle. I BUILT WALLS TO KEEP THE WATER OUT! But it managed to just keep me in. The sun was setting that day as I franticaly bailed out my moat. Setting on the castle that slowly crumpled back into the lovely rippled surface from where it came. It was there that I was comprehending my theory on gravity and the massive amounts of energy that must be released by friction to overcome the incomprehensable pull of one grain to the other. The bond that holds all things together was not strong enough to save my childhood or my castle. Slowly time errodes me still, one grain at a time as I edge towards my eventual demise. Worn by water and defeated by the most powerful of all forces, Gravity in the third dimension, Time.

I was pulled to the ground in ways unknown to a child at that time, my feet leaving the impressions of life that would vanish all to soon if left on their own. The world could continue to turn yet my impact would slowly be erased. As I came to this briefest of realizations, I blinked and it was gone. My sand castle had suddenly sucomed to the tides that drive the most primal of systems, the sea. Here I again sit at the shore, listening to the music of this world. One World once populated by a simple species. But like all things that rise, so shall they fall. This ocean pristine again and cleansed of this briefest of moments when we as a species built our buildings of sand. Only to be eventually torn down by that most powerful of all the forces, Gravity in the third dimension, Time. Stripped of their raw materials, even the mightiest of dwellings returned to the land and await reconstruction by the next species that may arise from the ashes. And as I blinked in the blinding light, it was made clear to me that these castles will always be destined to fall as long as we build them from the sands of this world.


User Journal

Journal Journal: something new...

Something new needs to go into here... Ahh, That will do. :)

User Journal

Journal Journal: yawn, I hate mulch

Day 3 of spreading mulch... I wish the wife was back home to do some of the work herself! Oh well, life goes on... But you just get soooo Sore from shoveling mulch and dumping and spreading and shoveling, repeat ad infinium...

Thank goodness tomorrow is a workday. (thought I'd never say that! )

User Journal

Journal Journal: Flamebait

I don't get it... I write a response, add a witty ending... I think it was funny and insightfull at the same time... LOTS of folks reply underneath the thread and it has like a gazillion messages below it, but I get rated as Flamebait...

I just don't get it... Next time try funny... Thats what I was after... oh well, at least it wasn't Troll...

Ok, hissy fit over..

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