It's a Nanny State & The Professor Thing

Dear America,

"Official motto of the White House economic team: Those who can, do. Those who can’t, fantasize in the classroom, fail in Washington and then return to the Ivy Tower to train the next generation of egghead economic saboteurs. Life is good for left-wing academics. Everyone else pays dearly."

that's what she said.

That is what Michelle Malkin opened her column with just yesterday; hm. same day G was thinking the exact same thing.  Only, Malkin, far more polished in her delivery, backed up thoughts with names, numbers and data to string a mile long...for G, not so much. [insert smiley face here]  But gotta love it when, there she was, with Sean Hannity last night, explaining the "abandoning ship...going back to academics" theory on national TV -- hence, backing up the G thing hook, line and sinker.

Poking some kind of fun back on the lefties who come off "untouched and unscathed by reality" while living in their Keynesian house of cards, she keeps building up her case..."and we get told we're the morons!" she added, basically throwing down all her cards and showing Sean, along with the rest of his viewers, black jack.

good times. good times indeed.

Considering G was hopped up on everything free market yesterday, in the middle of her piece, Malkin said this:

"Goolsbee’s most recent “innovation”: the “White House White Board,” a weekly video lecture teaching everyone else how to hitch what remains of America’s free-market system to the wagon of the state and how much (or rather, how little) we should make doing it. He illustrated his grand interventionist strategy to pick and choose “Startup America” winners by drawing a trough of broken light bulbs (symbolizing entrepreneurial ideas) piling up in a “Valley of Death” because they lacked government support.

A comical choice of imagery given the Democrats’ enviro-nutty ban on incandescent bulbs. But I digress."

And speaking of digressing, nothing like starting off the day with one, eh.  This isn't exactly where I wanted to go this morning, but I just couldn't help myself.  My first thought of the day went right to sweet synchronicity rounding up full circle.  To read her full column, go here. 

so, from what remains of the free market to the remains on a day...what else...what else... oh right...now this is really neither here nor there, I mean, my gosh, the story came up from down under.  But did you hear about the new protectionism, specific to wildlife, showing favor expressly for a certain group, namely possums?


The way the story goes, domestic felines have a curfew; no more gallivanting around the neighborhood in the middle of the night, causing all sorts of mayhem.  Possums seem to be unable to hold their own down under, so again, the first thing environmentalists think of is scratching natural law and order, scrapping Darwin's survival of the fittest, in one giant leap.  And again, deciding for us, who deserves special privileges, special rights of passage and the like, posing one animalia against another even -- all while swiping the civil liberties of the domestic cat with one scratch.

Here's a bit of kitty kibble on the matter:

"There have been some 564 reported cat attacks on ringtail possums in the last year alone, making up the biggest part of total cat attacks on wildlife, wildlife protection agency WIRES said. 'It's a small thing to ask people to keep their cats indoors if it means protecting our native wildlife.' McKenzie said 'After all, they were here first, we've introduced domestic pets, so we have a responsibility to control them.' "

really?

How do we know if whether or not the possums started it?  I mean, is someone actually stalking the Sydney neighborhoods in search of cats run amuck, wreaking havoc upon the poor, defenseless possums?  I'm sorry, are we talking about Fluffy, Dingleberry, and Boo?  C'mon.

And seriously, if a possum can't seem to handle a little harassment from frick and frack, who is to say they deserve to be in the wild in the first place?  what a let down in the name of wildlife everywhere, eh.  Oh G is a heartless bitch this morning.

But really, I love wildlife as much as the next girl (as long as that girl does not subscribe to the philosophy and actions of greenpeace... most often an outfit controlling the rights of mother nature to the extremes) -- but this seems downright ludicrous. Perhaps the way to go might be to begin "domesticating" possums, ever think of that?  If they can't handle the real world, let's bring them indoors and treat them like babies.

Now, in my old neighborhood, not to be confused with my new neighborhood which is pretty much the same, we get possums, and raccoons, and rabbits, and what not -- sometimes even coyotes.  And the truth is, we seem to be losing more felines (proof is in the pictures taped to the sides of telephone polls...the sweet faces of lost Dingleberries pop up all the time).

How would might this group suggest we keep the possums in -- at night?  Because I have seen possums willing to take on small children in these here parts  (really)  (not kidding).

Here's a piece of advice handed down to cat owners in the wake of this assault upon the average possum (considering that there is no law in place to give them any authority to forbid households to let their cats out at night):

"Whilst the curfew cannot be strictly enforced, an education and information program to be sent out by the local government will propose that cat owners keep their pets indoors between dusk and dawn, monitor their cat's activities during the day and attach two bells to their collar."

attach two bells, they suggest...
that's gonna go over well.
they seem not to have a clue about how the typical cat ticks.

Isn't that domestic cat abuse?  wouldn't a couple of bells announcing their every move cut a cat's psyche right in two, emasculating whatever natural tendencies they happened to be born with as one of God's beautiful creatures?

and this may sound over the line, but wouldn't this be like telling a gay or lesbian student to wear a letter across their chest in school, announcing who they are on the inside, and to back off, long before they've even had a chance to say hello?  I mean, what you are asking a cat to do here is wrong.  What gives you the right to decide how to level the playing field -- and assuming the field is full of land mines only blowing up one side?   For isn't the real world a place where we all have to get along...even in conditions that might test our very souls, if not, our outright ability to fight for what we believe and who we are?

Maybe, why stop at bells and whistles calling out all cats, how about we have possums sit down and watch a video like "It gets better" while we're at it.

And call me stupid if I think possums could probably do a better job at adapting, or move to higher ground.

But again, throwing the risk of repetition against the wind, how do we not know for sure that it was the possum who stuck it's tongue out in the first place?

I would also be remiss if I did not ask the age old question:  Is Fluffy really capable of taking down a wild animal like a possum?  My bet goes to the feral kitty sitting there in the corner, looking like the Cheshire cat.  Can you say gill tea? 

so no. my two cents today did not remain inside American borders.  shoot me. throw me in a cage. leave me for dead.  whatever.

but if need be,  I can make a course correction right now, on the fly, if you like... 

Survival of the fittest is a good thing, it makes us adapt, and expand, and take action -- to protect and guide and manifest a magnificent future.  It is a very American ideal, indeed.  It is an idea not intended for wussies, or should I say pussies, as the observations of today chime in in the back of my head (who are we kidding, it was just a couple of bells).

WE, as a country, used to teach all our youngin' how to hold their own -- getting better at it as time went by -- generated by the top down (ergo from mom and pop, people of authority, our leaders...).  Kids understood their place -- and how to work awfully hard to get out from under parental control and make their own way, albeit in a warped give me liberty or give me death kind of way.

But somehow, in the last thirty or forty years, we have shifted -- going against the natural Darwinian flow and teachings surrounding our duty to raise self-reliant, able-bodied, rootin' tootin' kids ready to take on the world -- these days, we are raising a bunch of fluffies with a social cause ringing around their ears.  Yes, extreme G lives and reigns.  But think about it, here in America and down under, the social justice agenda is replacing a beautiful industrial life in a dog-eat-dog cat-scratch-fever kind of way.

With good intentions (I'm sure...say that with some attitude please) our political correctness has enabled scores of protectionists, environmentalists, fascists, marxists, social justice-ists, to control the population.  It always starts out small and grows.  First, it is adding a just couple of bells around our neck, but pretty soon, we are locked up in cages (but only at night).

I am not happy with things down under with this whole goodbye kitty police state.  And it has taken me by surprise, really; for, of all places, you would think the great Outback would choose Darwin over Code Pink Hello Kitty any day of the week.  The thing is, considering evolution by the hundredth monkey effect seems to be in full force, this doesn't bode well for the rest of us.

here we go. there we go. it's all the same thing on this incredibly stupid day.  are you ready for a cat fight?

Make it a Good Day, G

speaking of which, did you know we are engaged in a fourth war?  covert ops, they say.  In Yemen.  oh yes, and you lefty's thought you had found yourself an anti-war anti-imperialist golden child  -- thing is, he just doesn't tell anyone about it or get congressional approval.  that's all.  may I suggest you write your congressman.   but really now, can I get a chorus of "whiskey tango foxtrot" for the president?

Dear America,

"It's an absolute joke. I was looking forward to this. 

It would have been a real experience. 

This is what football is all about. 

We're becoming a nation of wussies."  

Ed Rendell, Governor of Pennsylvania, sometime yesterday...

I guess it takes something really big to happen before a liberal even notices; yes, Govena, we aw a nation of wussies...and we sure didn't get here by way of the foundation laid by our fine forefathers who gave us everything with nothing more than perhaps a pat on the butt, maybe with a resounding 'buck up buttercup' as we set out to become something, be something, as purely evident by our duty and delight of just being a part of the home team, and a winning one, at that.

Okay, so they wouldn't say 'buttercup', but neither would they say "wussies" either, so na na na nana.

But nooooooooooooo, somewhere down the line, we DID become a nation of wussies; and I couldn't have said it better myself --  just the irony, as the shout out is coming from a die hard left wing entitlement monger, bellowing out onto the field from the sidelines!  The very thought of it gives me more chills up and down my leg than quite possibly if I were sitting in those snowdrifts above the 50 yard line -- if in fact, the game went on in spite of a few flurries as planned.

So they canceled the Sunday Night Football game for a little snow, and this is what turns the liberal upside down, to the point of calling us all a bunch of wussies? wow.

Where is Rendell when it comes to showing up for that same fighting spirit when it comes to the daily grind?  Where is Rendell when it comes to shoring up the business leaders and corporate makers of jobs, for the betterment of all, in hopes of creating jobs and responsibilities and duties above and beyond the local unemployment office? Where is Rendell when it comes to speaking directly to the wussies and the weak-kneed who just need someone to give them a little tough love, the kind that causes someone to grab life by the bootstraps, no matter what, and keep at it?  Where is this Rendell?

Wussies, he says.

What is fascinating, seeing into the future no less, is what kind of other suspicious weather might be lurking around the bend to call for another unusually long commercial break?  Will these actions inspire another team, to use creative license to postpone a game until "Joe Blow" is feeling better, to allow for an additional day's rest, or simply, make the other team sweat for 48 hours longer, or more, weather permitting?

And just who, in fact, makes this kind of call anyway?  Was it just Goodell who threw in the wussie pink flag? Or did he get some help with his own audacious line of commissioner's men, sacking the rush to judgment in a last ditch blitz?

Setting precedence, is setting precedence, just sayin'.

and oh the trouble we've seen when we take an inch, right.

But more important, doesn't this just give us one more reason to gang up against the rising tide of regulation in this country?  yeah, you must have known I would go there...

Even though I woke up really fuzzy this morning, I still have my Common Sense wits about me...

this being the fifth day -- or is it the seventh? -- of a horrid regime of hot tea, naps and NyQuil.  Yes, even over the Christmas holiday, this girl was out cold in a lovely, self-medicated, shut down the cough so I can get some sleep medicine. yum.  You will be happy to know the congestion is all but gone, and I have almost forgot I had a nagging cough.

Being one who is not a wuss when it comes to getting sick (and proud of it) -- hardly ever catching the common cold in the first place -- when it finally catches up to me, I simply go down.  out. down. done. turn out the lights, the party's over, don't bother me, I'm sleeping...

ONLY to wake up from the slumber refreshed! yeah me!


As you can imagine, the in-box was over-floweth, like a blizzard, doncha know.  But one of my favorite things to read is the Heritage Foundation's Morning Bell -- it always chimes in with highly topical, straight up talk of the play of the day; it's kinda like gathering in a huddle with a cadre of  colonial doers and thinkers, all round up dispensing a shot in the arm for the die-hard fan of these United States.  So, in an effort to get to my point before a lingering need to close my eyes comes upon me, read this about BIG GOVERNMENT.

This 111th Congress cannot go down and out fast enough, if you get my drift.  Regulations that we don't even know about, hear about, have a chance to read about, continues unbridled and unguarded all around us.

And just like football, the game -- the AFC meets NFC meets USA  -- the really big show, for real -- was never intended to have this much regulation.

This nation was not made for wussies, damn straight, Mr. Rendell; what he lacks in eloquence, he sure makes up in relevance.

Besides hoping we hit replay on his remarks over and over and over again, my second hope is that this may lead us to a new, new start treaty dating back to this very moment in time, and that one day, we may look back at this and get a good laugh -- for it all began with a little thing called over-regulation, in the hands of an over-zealous commissioner, that perhaps changed the course of a nation gone pansy... all because of the potential of a hundred year storm, rising from the groundswell of fear of the ever so humble itzy bitzy snowflake; with any luck at all, it will roll up into a ball and unceremoniously be thrown in the face of all Americans right here, right now...

meaning nothing more and nothing less than:  WAKE UP!  Snap out of it! This progressive march of over-regulation, these continuous threats thwarting the rule of law by lowly man, along with the constant attack upon the Natural Law, endowed by our Creator, enlightened by our founders, and left in the firm grasp of each and everyone of us, is taking the fun out of everything!  let's just play the game, already. enough is enough.

Make it a Good Day, G

And thank you, Mr. Ed