A Pledge of Allegiance

14 June 2002

As a seasoned amateur performer, having participated in a score or more of community theatre productions, I have a love for both pageantry and audience participation. Thus, combining that with a love for this country, and for the flags of our past, present, and future, I have always enjoyed The Pledge of Allegiance. However, it has also somewhat troubled me. Many patriotic Americans love their country and her flag no less for being non-religious, and many of us, understanding the principles of States’ Rights and State Sovereignty, would often find ourselves pausing over the expression, “one nation, under god, indivisible.” While we are, indeed, a single confederation of states, there is no support in our Constitution for the concept of indivisibility, and, while there is no mention of a “separation of church and state,” the First Amendment does stipulate that “Congress shall make no law respecting the establishment of religion,” which leads inevitably to the conclusion that there can be no Federal or national support for religion. Therefore, as a pledge to the flag of the United States, the expression, “one nation, under god, indivisible,” is, at best discordant, and more likely presumptuous.

I would not attempt to do away with a cherished public ritual that acts so well to draw a crowd to a common feeling and a common purpose. I would, however, like to offer an alternative to awkward silence for those of an atheist (or simply more private) persuasion, as well as those understanding the voluntary and confederal structure of our Union.

If I may…
I pledge allegiance to the flags of the united States of America,
and to the Republics for which they stand, sovereign states,
in confederation
, with Liberty and Justice for All.

“Don’t ask Jack to help you, ’cause he’ll turn” a Deaf Ear

26 September 2017 

(thanks to Graham Nash for the stolen lyric)

There are many things that I should try to avoid hearing from customers, because an genuine response is apt to make things worse.  For copious examples:

Don’t work too hard.”
Are you suggesting that I am too stupid to know my limits, or are you encouraging me to deny my employer the best efforts that I’ve promised?

I guess it’s free.” (said by customers who either don’t see a price tag)
I guess you’re an idiot.
No wait!  I actually DO know better than to say that one out loud, even though it’s what I’m thinking every time I hear it.  What I have actually dared to say in response to that one is, “Do you have any follow-up guesses, because that guess if way off the mark.”  I’ve given up on saying “Okeh” because too many people don’t understand the difference between agreement and acknowledgment.

Know whum sane?” (see also “Blagga Mau Mau”)
English, please.

Haaaava Goodwuhn!”
Lick yourself.  Even if I were to concede that “one” was a meaningful pronoun, it would still have no meaning without an antecedent.
Well, that’s pretty abrasive.  A better, but still ill-advised response is,
“Which one?  Bambi Goodwin?  Betty Goodwin?  Kandi Goodwin?”

Give me…” (or “I want…” or “I need…”)
Please go home and complain to your parents that they have failed to prepare you to interact with civilized grownups.

Can I ask you a question?”
Isn’t it obvious?

My bad.”
GET OUT!  Your dismissive two syllable response is the practical OPPOSITE of an actual apology.

How we doing?”
“WE” is a pronoun that ALWAYS includes the speaker, and we’ve just met, so how am I supposed to know how “we” are doing when you remain a mystery. -or-
Not well, one of us is working right now, and the other is struggling with English.

Just look at this parade.

30 October 2016
(a late election retrospective)

There’s the Anointee in the lead, resplendent astride her Regal Ass. She is followed by the Pompous Pasha perched upon his Pachyderm. Trailing him is the Flower-Child / Iron-Athlete walking his Pet Porcupine. Even farther behind, and Hugging her Tree…

It gets worse if you recast the contest as a race for the Iron Throne.

At the top of the bill, we have corrupt and conniving Cersei Lannister against serial abuser blowhard Ramsey Bolton.
Filling out the supporting cast…

You’d think their agendas wouldn’t converge, but they’re both committed to ethereal orthodoxies, and they’re equally ready to sacrifice humanity to their higher purpose. The Red Woman? The Green Woman? Color means little to the metaphorical corpses heaped at their feet.

And finally, and most depressing of all, we come to my guy. (Yes, full disclosure: I am a libertarian, and I will be voting for the Republican Governors). In this Game of Thrones skit I’m imagining, my guy… *sigh* My guy is Theon Greyjoy. He couldn’t come up with a solid argument or a rigid principle to save his life. And he’s the least bad of the lot!

ow ow ow ow ow!

17 February 2010

Oozing, suppurating, rancid, infected, abscessed tumors!
Incest and sodomy!
Death and taxes!

& did I mention “Ow”?

But first the good news…

I am once again gainfully employed. Picked up a temporary position with the US Census Bureau. Looks to be full time until about August. Also have been rehired by Kings Island… The park to open in April and run until October… so the income looks better for the next few months anyway. So no more worries for now about eating my savings.

Work is coming along well, I suppose. You know, mostly feeling lost for the first few days as I begin to catch on. The people there are acting like they think I’m smart and funny, and being patient with my unfamiliarity with the specific op system at the Senseless Bureau as I shed my old reflexes to make room for new. So work qua work is not a problem for me.

However.. This nasty winter storm is making life a little too exciting.

But before I proceed, I want to assure you that I am (mostly) well, and in no extraordinary danger. That having been said, I’ll continue with my narrative..

Unless you’ve completely disconnected yourself from the continental steno media, you are no doubt aware of the huge weather system that is dominating the region. Weather maps show it sitting on a wide band from Arkansas to Pennsylvania. And in the middle is me!

On Tuesday morning I was on my way in, switching from one Interstate to the next in a wide gentle three quarters of a circle in a wild snow storm. As I near the end of the loop I notice a little grey coupe in my far left periphery spinning out of control down the highway, raising beautiful big rooster tails of fresh powder and finally coming to rest pointed backwards in the far left lane. Upon initially seeing this possible danger I guess my brain moved into the slow motion seeming adrenaline consciousness that we need in the face of threats. As grey coupe comes to rest I am relieved to realize that he is not going to be my problem as he stopped before the highway reached the point at which I would be merging. As I was thinking that, suddenly a big black SUV enters the left periphery, spinning across the median strip separating my ramp from I-275, slides and spins across my lane, bounces off the guard rail to our right, then slides back across my lane and comes to rest on the very pointy end of the strip just as I drive carefully (as always) through his zone and onto the highway proper. Had I been just a few seconds earlier (or maybe just a fraction of a second — it’s hard to get an accurate read on time when one is dosing on adrenaline) he would have bounced off ME instead of the guard rail. Most of the locals have an appreciation for winter driving… I don’t know whether these two were both idiots (or very unlucky) or just one of them. Since I didn’t see what might have caused either of them to lose control I can only speculate, but judging by their relative proximity to each other — in space and time — I would conclude that AT LEAST one of them is an idiot and possibly spooked the other with his or her shenanigans and the hapless other simply over-corrected to a sudden danger so they both lost control. I made it to work about fifteen minutes later than scheduled, about which no one seemed to be the slightest bit concerned, as others were also trickling in late due to the less than ideal conditions.

And that’s not even the “Ow” part…

On Wednesday (10 February) morning, after I had gotten my windshield dusted off, the engine started and warming up and I was heading back into the house to continue preparing for my departure I stepped onto a slick patch in the driveway and WENT DOWN HARD. It happened all so fast that I’m not quite sure how I lost my footing — I’m usually fairly nimble — but I made a painful three point landing on my right side. I’ve got a nasty bruise on my hip, opened my brow over the eye, and worst of all, wrenched my wrist, probably bending it much farther than recommended. The little cut on the face and the bruise on the hip I could bear, but the wrist has bothered me since. All Wednesday afterwards the pain got progressively worse as I contemplated having broken bones in my hand or even having detached or torn tendons. But of course, I soldiered on during the day. One of the women involved in my training remarked excitedly that it was nice to see another lefty in the office until I explained that I was normally dexter and was only temporarily sinister due to the recent injury. As the pain grew greater during the day and the swelling became quite pronounced, at the end of the day I drove directly to Bud’s house (Sugar not being home from work yet) and told him that I MIGHT be needing his help the next morning. Fearing that there could be broken (or at least cracked) bones in my right hand I thought it could be prudent to seek a professional assessment. Begging drugs from him to get me through the evening I told him that I might be calling him early the next morning to take me to the ER or something. He sighed, I acknowledged the inconvenience, then we agreed that that was something that buds do for each other when needed. Fortunately, Thursday morning, the hand was feeling MUCH MUCH BETTER. Still bad, of course, just better. Typing is not a great hardship now, though any serious heavy lifting that exceeds my left hand’s capacity is still out. I feel very lucky that my health is generally so good, and that my healing ability remains almost adolescent in its vigor. It still hurts today (Saturday), but I am clearly on the mend, and well beyond any need to tithe the medical priesthood.

Addendum… Now a whole week out (Wednesday, 17 Feb) from the original injury, and the swelling has considerably subsided. Once again there is clear muscular definition across the back of my right hand and I have resumed wearing my ring on the proper finger. My left hand, in fact, is feeling a bit sore because it had to pick up the heavy lifting slack that the right sloughed off.
100217

update 180115: should mention, I suppose, that the hand did indeed fully heal, though the rest of me continues to deteriorate.

Moebius Trip, chapter 2

The Rainbow Bridge

The asteroids used by Odin Brandt to construct Asgard had been injected into an oblique polar orbit so that his sunscreens would never be shaded, neither by Mars nor its native moons.  Surrounding the vast gossamer film was Odin’s “Rainbow Bridge,” a cupped ring of articulated segments with a gentle half twist that slowly advanced around a twenty-four-hour cycle.  The mechanical sections and Brandt Wave generators were precisely tuned to sustain a comfortable and stable environment within the walled confines.  The daylight side under its dark blue open sky was mildly subtropical with a sun half the apparent diameter as known on Earth, and the night sky was half filled by Mars’ red face, streaked by slashes of green in deep terraformed valleys.

Ham Weisinger coasted off Michigan Avenue and up the smooth path onto the convent grounds.  He swung his leg over his bicycle and stood on one peddle as he coasted to a stop, and hopped off by the arbor where Sister Mary Albertus was checking her sweet pea blossoms.  He glanced at his watch. quietly approving his record time this morning from Seu San Marie back to Holy Toledo.

“Good morning, Sister!  How’re your peas this morning?”

She straightened up and tucked a stray lock of hair back into her headband.  “Much better, Dr Weisinger.  Now that our supplemental lighting is on line, they don’t know the difference between here and Earth.”  She gestured to the great lamp that loomed in the distance, presently opposite the apparent rising sun itself.

Ham frowned.  “May fool the plants, but it seems weird, having two suns in the sky.  Shouldn’t that confuse some plants?”

She smiled.  “Some plants, sure.  Some can be real sensitive to seasonality, too, but pea vines have spent eons under cloudy skies and diffuse lighting.  They’ll spread their leaves wherever they can catch the light.”

a work in progress, commenced on 24 October 2022

Rocke: “I you, muh knee, geh’ville.”

orphans (aka “The Teen Brigade”):
Westley (“Westward Ho'”) Harper, Roy (“Pretty Boy”) Grayson, Richard (“Tricky Dick”) Barnes, and James Buchanan (“Snap”) Jones,
nuns (aka “The Science Counsel”):
Thomist Order:
Married Directors, Father Joe-Marie Salomea & Mother Isaac
w/ Virgin Acolyte Sisters Gregor, Giovanni Riccioli, Albertus Magnus, Copernicus, William of Ockham, Francesco Grimaldi, and Nicolas
Odin Brandt: “Your Realitarian Party is lousy with empiricists and Thomists and cranks, oh my!”

Bishop Thomas Obasi-Ekubo
Pope Thomas, founder of the Thomist Order,
a “Reformed Dominican” order of married priests,
and author of “In Defense of Doubt” and “Saint Thomas, Acquitted

“Our Faith in Mercy is never as strong as We would wish,
so We must oft need referee as Reason wrestle with Revenge.”

“As heat, properly applied, can soften or harden steel,
so too can confronted Doubts firm up Our Faith.”

“Then let Their Celibacy itself be Our Abgar of Edessa.”

Despite his earlier doubts, Thomas the Apostle converted King Abgar of Edessa to Christianity.

240301
I know you’ve expressed your doubts about Catholicism, as you have about many things, but so far as I know, you’ve never actually been excommunicated, so you’re still eligible to be Pope.  Assuming the College of Cardinals ever gets wind of your existence.  As a non-communicant, I have no say in the matter, and while I’d have no problem with “Pope Keith” (though “Larry” is funnier) I’d encourage you to consider “Pope Thomas.”  You’d think, after two thousand years and only a handful of Apostles, someone would have gotten around to Thomas.  But no.  Never.  Not once.  Gracious!  They hit John twenty-three times before repeating Paul again, and Pius or Innocent at least a dozen times, plus a host of gregories and Bonifaces and Benedicts and now Francis.
But no Thomas.

Moebius chapter z

(Based on the Spilhaus Projection?) the Lake of the World
is “antipodal” from Daddle Mountain
while the Great Lakes oppose the Black Hills
and the Mediterranean opposes Mauna Kea.