Thursday, September 29, 2005

Don Adams RIP

The Cone Of Silence has descended upon the life of Don Adams, and the prospects of another "Get Smart" reunion special have dimmed.

I was too young to appreciate this anarchistic commentary on the idiocy of secrets and spys and the very ordinary people who keep them and make them.
The first time around anyway.

Don Adams, as Maxwell Smart Agent 86 was, I'd bet closer to the truth than either the creator's Buck Henry and Mel Brooks would admit or the real people in government who were subject to this satire would even recognize.

I was only eight years old when the show began on NBC. Then, I thought the funniest thing on the air was Ozzie Nelson. I was pretty stupid. Ozzie was pretty funny, sometimes. But the funnier things about him were things I did not know. Like that he didn't work, and fucked Harriet. That would be funny to see.

But "Get Smart", once I was old enough to appreciate it, became a favorite. Maxwell Smart was a complete ass (in a nice way) and as I became more anti-government in my politics, this show was able to define what I was beginning to think; that there are too many secrets, that the people charged with keeping them were inept, and art DOES imitate life. And "Get Smart" did it extremely well.

Anyone who could come up with a cone of silence that did not work, understood really well the ineptitude of those who chase enemies in the fog.

Joe Postove

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Not Dead

This blog is STILL ACTIVE!

I haven't posted in a few days because I'm a bit under the weather.

But aren't we all?

You may now return to your regular routine. We will be back soon.

Joe

Sunday, September 25, 2005

MacArthur Foundation Slops Money To Brains

The John D. And Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation which bestows money on pitiful and unremarked upon geniuses stewing in their own brilliant juices waiting for some ship to come in, or to kill themselves, has ladled out another 12 1/2 million dollars to 25 new MacArthur Fellows for 2005.

These are men and women, mostly operating in obscurity who range from a molecular biologist to a fisherman who futzes around with lobsters and such to a violin maker living in a pile of human excrement and who really needed some bucks (and probably the love of a good woman).


These are all worthy pursuits (I suppose...Who really gives a damn unless I get mine) and the great thing about these grants is the people who get them, get them with no strings attached! Golly Jesus! These people can take their half a mil and blow it on crack, whores, candy and other fine things and the MacArthur Foundation people won't come down on them. These grants are, once bestowed, free and easy money for good times and easy sex.

It is interesting to see the breadth of types that get this sweet sack of swag. I'm sure all of these great minds deserve what they get, but I think if the folks up there with the money ever see me deliver newspapers, we could change the whole paradigm of who gets this grease.

I fold them, stick them in bags, then hang them on hotel room doors, all without asking for your pity or money (not that I'm not asking). AND all without interrupting the perfectly sexy sounds I hear as I pass the rooms. What goes on in a private hotel room is none of my business. But I sure would like to see some of it. I listen with my ear to the door, and imagine the fine action happening between what I know to be UNMARRIED couples jointly engaging.


That's OK. I just hop scotch from room to room, hither and thither, leaving papers at each door, all the while getting a nice earful of audio sex twixt men and women. And who knows? Some of that is probably lesbian and homo too, but I'm much too polite to listen in on illegal sex.

Doesn't all that deserve at least a consideration for a half million from these rich fucks? I work hard, and it would be nice to have some appreciation for all that. It's not like I toodle my trash can full of papers every night to hotels all over Norfolk for my health.

After all. I gotta eat too.

Joe

Saturday, September 24, 2005

Anti War Protest

There was a fairly big anti-war protest in Washington today, and among the plethora of speakers banging the drum, rather than passing the peace pipe, were folks all along the political spectrum that you might likely find at a rally like this. Everything from Palestinian liberationists to Haitian exiles, all getting in licks for their own causes while denouncing the war, made the "right wingers", Ralph Nader, Ramsey Clark and Jessica Lange (in her Francis Farmer outfit) appear almost avuncular.

Most everyone got the anti-war rhetoric right and steamed up the place right nicely. But since we libertarians are really good talkers and very poor doers, the peace movement gets hijacked by the far left, and it is left to them to carry the flag of anti-imperialism. They even dug up a communist, and he was pretty good, considering we don't see them much anymore.


But those who are ardently against the war in Iraq and put their theory into action, do themselves a great disservice when the movement is diverted by cranks and kooks. The John Birch Society did Barry Goldwater no good in 1964. Commies and Filipino anarchists attract only the dregs of political society, when what is needed are the millions of moderate, non-political Americans watching C-Span in search of a place to put their own political action. I simultaneously retched and turned off the tv when those two Filipino gals started singing "Another Brick In The Wall".


We don't need no education, perhaps. But we need an anti-war movement for Ma and Pa Kettle, who may yet soon have to sacrifice one of their own to Bush's Folly. We desperately need a movement in this country that will appeal to that great middle, but who might agree on very little else.

We don't need no stinking Communists.

Joe Postove

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Hey! What About Me ?!

I realize the world is going to hell, but each of us still has to deal with our little tiny problems, which does not feel me up any better because of the hurricane and downfall of western society.

On Wednesday morn, my van had a stroke while I was out on the route, the worst possible time, since the thing is full of newspapers, which you probably know will not deliver themselves. I've looked into a system where I could just build pipes from the newspaper warehouse and shove the papers, one at a time, down the pipe to the proper hotel and they would just dance themselves to each room, in its own time.

This is not practical. The papers would probably get stuck in the piping and besides, the sides of the pipes are greased with shit to make the shoving more efficient. However, my boss nixed the idea, because he said the hotel people wouldn't take a paper greased with shit. Cest la vie!

I took the van to the repair shop. The top man there gave it a good looking after, and said that everything is wrong with it. I asked, what in particular, are the major problems. He said that the headlights worked, and the radio could get a couple of country stations, and oh yeah, the porno magazines in the bag were some fine action. Other than that, show me your wallet please.

Bottom line: $1125.02 to get my piece of shit from his fine establishment (full of bull shitters). Here come the credit cards again. And I'll pay the fee and toodle out of there happy as a lark....But under my breath, I'll be motherin' this and MF that, and you come up with some dirty acronyms. I'm tired.

And I had to take PUBLIC transportation to get home from the repair shop and to go back again today. This ain't so bad, since it seems things have settled down on buses (I used to think it was all whores and booze, with a crap game in the back) and basically no one looks at you, as long as you don't look at them.

As you know I am a racist. I hate the white people. So riding on the bus was somewhat of a treat, since I was the only whitey on board, the loathing I have for myself these days was mitigated by all of my black brothers and sisters who all ignored me. Which made for a fine trip for all.


Burn this letter!

Joe Postove

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Notes On New Orleans: An International Free Port

It could happen. Another hurricane (Rita) may hit or cause New Orleans to be flooded before the week is out, and take and destroy what little bit was left.

Thought experiment: Suppose this was three or four years down the line and the federal government has spent half a trillion dollars on reconstructing the city? This is a reasonable prediction. When the government is spending my money, twos tend to become fives and the two hundred billion will easily become five hundred or more. This is the way of statecraft. No dollar goes unspent and there is always something (and someone) else to funnel to. This doesn't even go to the question of graft. This is New Orleans. What say?


What if, at that point the city had been rebuilt and taken down once more by another "100 year storm"? Do we borrow more from China, so that the government can rebuild again? The Chinese have already started to wipe their asses with our T-Bills.

Why not consider opening up New Orleans to an experiment in economics? Make this the world's first truly free trade zone (FTZ). Not the wimpy shit that some governments claim as FTZ's, but a real live, wide open town. Try this on for size, mommy; let New Orleans rebuild itself! No government built this unique place the first time around, so why should a government have to rebuild it?

Surely there will be the basics like roads and water that government will insist only they can provide adequately. But this introduces the awful argument of displacement; ie: that certain things can only be done a certain way, not looking to alternatives. This is mostly a problem of those in government, who's concepts rarely, if ever, allow them to seriously consider the still widely unappreciated energy and vigor that a true free economy brings to the world. Even the poor conservatives in the Republican party (now owned and operated by NEOCON!) mostly cannot conceive of taking a look at what built cities in the first place, and applying some of that to all of this.


Turn this city, outside of the operation of law enforcement, totally and unambiguously over to private enterprise and individual initiative. Can this be worse than the way that things have been running so far? Free the slaves!

If New Orleans HAD been run as a private city and this all happened, it would be demanded that it be turned over to the government, who is the only proper administrator of society (so I hear) . Everything that went wrong after Katrina in New Orleans was the failure of government. I call for the state and federal government to remove themselves from their awful failures that has cost this city and nation so much, and give the ropes to private, competitive companies, operating on a fair footing and equal basis without favoritism or preference by government, and let them and the small and large business community rebuild New Orleans.


I think you would have a very pleasant surprise.


Joe Postove

Monday, September 19, 2005

It's Face Transplant Time Everybody!

According to The Internet doctors are inching closer to pasting other people's faces on yours. I never really thought of a face transplant for myself. I am a very handsome man, although I do not commit the sin of pride by walking around with all my good looks hanging from my face. After all "Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall" so I wouldn't want to intimidate people, therefore I'm more modest about how hot I am.

However, it is nonetheless intriguing what kind of face I would get when they become commercially available. I realize a "Larry Fine" or "Jack Palance" would be cheaper than a "Gary Cooper" or "Robert Taylor" but price would not be the prime objective for you people who feel the need to stitch on a new kisser. You would want to have the doctor give you something you would feel comfortable with the rest of your life. Word is, that they won't redo these face transplants even if they come out less than perfect. One should consider whether he wants to risk having an ass face.

Me? I'm a very handsome man. And I can walk down the street unbesieged by women because I can keep my good looks in their proper perspective.

Joe


Friday, September 16, 2005

Ophelia Misses Norfolk...But Devastates Atlantic Ocean!

We dodged a real bullet here in the Queen City, but I do feel for the poor folks down in the outer banks of North Carolina, who quite caught the brunt of the storm. Just because they're white and rich I think the government is going to let them fix themselves up, and will have to forego the cheese and other delights that the feds will be whoring onto the fine folks of New Orleans.

More than cheese, yeah. Those poor people who have been through Hurricane Katrina and survived are going to get so much Fed goodies that after all is said and done this could turn the people of New Orleans into hedonists...Well, even some more. But the rich people who have pulled through Ophelia will have to get by with regular hellos from the President as they dip the wings of Air Force One as it steams to Louisiana to have Bush tap dance until all the goodies are unpacked.

With all of that money and goods going to the fine folks of New Orleans, you 'd better watch out. If you thought Mardi Gras was something in the past, just imagine all of the whores, carpetbaggers, nice looking cross dressers, reptilian politicos and other con men staking some territory next February as the NEW IMPROVED New Orleans celebrates a new era.

Ordinarily, during Mardi Gras, New Orleans is slick with shit, Shlitz, garbage, rats, and other party favors to help folks celebrate. The next one with all that 200 zillion dollars (may need more...check with mayor) will make the 2006 Fat Tuesday, fatter, slimier, even more homoesque than any you've ever seen before. Party on, New Orleans. You got the bucks. Now go out and get all dirty again for next year.

As for North Carolina, these rich whities are gonna have to wing it. I think the best they can do is peel off a few quizillion off this here New Orleans deal. And that only for beer and nuts.

I hate Whitie as much as the next guy. He's always kept me down. But he needs us now. Let's show the world that we treat everyone the same.

Some samer, of course.

Joe Postove

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Waiting For Ophelia

It is very calm here in Norfolk as we await the couple of billion dollars that comes with the hurricane. Ophelia is moving very slowly down in North Carolina in the Outer Banks so we are feeling very little of the effects of the monster storm.

The government must realize that we are in crisis mode down here in Norfolk. Not so much that we've had any damage yet, but that we are really scared and can't sleep. Besides, I've eaten about half of my emergency food and if the storm starts to spit up on us now, I'm fucked.

Hurry and send the two billion, plus maybe another billion for groceries, since its a real bitch going into the lower class stores, like the Dollar Store next to the insane asylum, and it would be better if we could stock up at the store that cost more than a dollar.

Please hurry! We can't lose Norfolk! What do you want; Virginia Beach to survive?

When the storm really starts to boogie, look for me on the roof with what's left of my peanut butter sandwiches. Otherwise, I'll be in my pay stall. It'll be between those two places.

God be with us.

joe

STOPPED CLOCK CHIMES A WINNER!

I was sitting on the toilet this morning (I found a dime under the Coke machine) reading the paper and George Bush made me gag. Gagging in the restroom is not recommended, but on the back page of the front section (where I assume it will be overlooked) the Associated Press reported that the President has called for the elimination of all tariffs and subsidies, worldwide, to promote peace and prosperity.

Thank God for twice a day. Because even a stopped clock like George II can get it right then. Considering that the entire White House inner circle is now made up of a "War Council", I just have to wonder who in the administration is feeding President Bush such a wonderful, right on, idea like this one.

I've been banging the gong (get it on) on this blog since...always, that people who trade freely with each other tend not to fight each other. That partners in commerce have every incentive to avoid conflict and work together for the betterment and enrichment of mankind. God...The Chinese are getting it, even though they have heavy tariffs on some goods. They understand that peace and prosperity comes from freedom, and freedom begins with one man or woman being free to pursue his dreams, unencumbered by the state.


It matters not at all whether the pickle relish I put on my hamburger is made by someone I don't know in North Carolina or someone I don't know in Hong Kong. It is provincialism at its worst to root for someone in Winston-Salem to eat better than some guy in Poop Stack Shitslovia. It's not really very American, to root for our freedom over someone else's.

The constitution, of course, outlaws tariffs between the states. The world should outlaw them between the nations. It wouldn't take long for us to be amazed at the things a truly free market can accomplish.

Kudos for whoever manipulated the President into voicing this bold, OLD, idea.

Joe Postove

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Stocking Up!

I just went to the store to stock up on essentials and it was a madhouse! Actually, I went in through the wrong door at the Dollar Store, and entered the real madhouse by mistake. They're right next store. I can't blame them for being crazy, what with living right next to the Dollar Store, and only getting 50 cents a week allowance. But what can I do? I am not responsible for them. Besides, a real buxom nurse lives in the house with them, and they could live off of her in case they ran out of food.

I picked up some canned meat at the $ store, but forgot to get a new can opener. The old one ran off with the corkscrew. If things get really bad here, I can always crash the cans against the pay toilet down the hall (mine is covered in fur and it wouldn't open any cans) and get the food out that way. That's only one of a number of ways to open a can without a can opener. One other way is to stomp on it with your foot until the meat begins to ooze out, and then you can suck on the can.

Then I went to the big grocery store where they charge more than a dollar for everything and got a cooked chicken. Six dollars and forty nine cents was the price! I'll bet that chicken was cheaper alive. But he probably wouldn't have sold himself to me, chickens having no use for money.

Of course I bought peanut butter and bread. I'll probably eat all of that (I love it so!) before Ophelia even strikes. If that happens I'll start in on the other food. But I will miss my peanut butter sandwiches, eating them on the roof of my apartment, or hiding in the pay toilet in the hall so that fellow apartment dwellers won't know what I have. If you see someone on TV eating a peanut butter sandwich on his roof, begging the president for help, it's probably me. I'll wave.

And of course I got lots of pop and my lottery tickets for three days forward, just in case the stores here lose electricity, and I can't buy one. The jackpot is 250 million for Friday, and I do not want to miss that! I can buy my own hurricane with that kind of money.

More updates as they occur.

Joe Postove

Hurricane Ophelia And HELP!

It looks like Ophelia is going to smash right into the outer banks of North Carolina with full force, top notch, hurricane winds, and we here (AT SEA LEVEL!) in the Norfolk, Virginia area will perhaps catch some tropical storm poo, and Peter Pan winds. Or we may all be killed.

Now, before we type another word......... ok, just now then, I think the President should learn from his mistakes in New Orleans and send us the dough now. Lets start off with a Billion, see how things go, and then we'll call for more, as needed. If the electricity goes out, we'll call on the cell phone, ok?

Here in Norfolk, at sea level, and with a number of neighborhoods below sea level, we should start pumping out the water to Lake Pontchartrain right away, to avoid any signaling to the federal government that we ain't trying our best. I realize that lake is down in New Orleans, but we don't have a nice big lake like that up here, so could we borrow yours?

Also there's no water here in Norfolk yet, but we could be minutes away from the rooftop boogie. Better send another Billion while I'm thinking of it. That's only two bill and that's not real money yet, so quit your yapping. We're talking about the citizens of Norfolk, Virginia; perhaps the finest city between the North Carolina border and Newport News, and we must be saved!

You've been warned. Don't fool with this hurricane. Also besides the money, we would like some boats, gum, $2,000 debit cards, wine and beer, cheese and crackers, and maybe some board games in case the electricity goes out.

For God's sake, don't leave Norfolk to float away in this crisis (besides, we could float over to Virginia Beach, and that would be a bad M...)

Thanks. And I'll wait here for the check.

Joe

Sunday, September 11, 2005

Einstein On Pay Toilets

It was revealed today, for the first time, that noted physicist and philosopher Albert Einstein installed a pay toilet in his home in 1951.

During his lifetime, Einstein entertained many notables in the arts and sciences. One day, while plunging some shit out of his toilet, he discovered that many of his guests had figured out how to jerry rig it to make long distance phone calls. Al called the first person he could think of, J.P. Getty, who already had a pay stall in his house, for advice. Getty told Einstein he didn't know how people could make phone calls through a toilet and slammed down the receiver, flush with excitement that a genius had called him.

This was a rather odd occurrence, in that Einstein had only the finest people as guests in his house during this time. People like Bunny Wilson, Abe Vigoda, Dorothy Kilgallen and even posher folks like Zsa Zsu Pitts and Tallulah Bankhead (who would sit on the toilet in his study and regale him for hours about the seedier side of show business) would stay weekends and even longer, if they couldn't get a cab. So the great scientist was befuddled by all this.

Once the workmen installed the toilet and word sprawled like a fine disease that can only be spread by such talk, Einstein's house became less of a salon for the chichi, and more a place to have a picnic lunch, as the poorer folks closer in town would come around with their dimes in hand and baskets filled with food. Al would stand with a stopwatch, making certain that no one tarried in their duty.

He realized that this action had cost him the friendships of many who he treasured. But he also knew that sometimes doing the right thing can bring unforeseen consequences.

Einstein spent the rest of his life trying to figure out how to call long distance through a toilet.

Joe

9/11

Four years ago, at this moment, the first plane hit the World Trade Center Tower.

It seems like 100 years.

jp

Friday, September 09, 2005

50 Billion And Counting

Congress passed the bill to send 50 billion dollars down New Orleans way, and the President will sign it, today. I would suggest Western Union, as I wouldn't trust the mail with a check for that amount.

Not that the check is good, anyway. You don't think the government has fifty billion sitting down in the treasury checking account, waiting for disasters like this, do you? That money goes out of there as fast as it comes in. They'll do what lots of us do; kite a check for the whole amount and then go out to the long bond markets and sell our grandchildren's hides to the Chinese at eight per cent.

So when people say that the government is wasting our money on one thing or another (not this...God Forbid! God Forbid!) that is not actually the case. They are spending the money our children's kids have yet to earn. This goes also to the issue of forgiveness of debt by the west to African nations. It looks more and more like a good idea.

One day, it will be us, hat in hand, asking the rest of the world to save the USA. And if they won't go along, we'll invade them.

We ain't America for nothing.

Joe

The Rolling Stones

The Stones are back on the road (this is the "Do Not Resuscitate" tour) and sadly they are starting up just to slow down a little bit, yeah, yeah, girl.

Although Mick Jagger still has the chops and can kick out the jams as if it were 2003, you can tell the age thing is getting to be a factor. The "ladies" throw him their support hose and plastics jars of Maalox instead of their room keys. They would throw him their room keys, but they are staying with their children while following the Stones on tour (Dead style).

Speaking of death, Keith Richards is probably doing best of all on the tour. He is finally starting to look his age, which is about 85. He and Jagger can still groove just all right still, except that his colostomy bag sometimes bumps Micks artificial bladder, and that's some shit.

Charlie Watts is still about the coolest drummer in Rock n Roll, but does have some trouble keeping proper time with the band having dropped back to 2/4 time instead of 3/5 time after his retirement party in 2004. He thought part of the deal of his continuing with the band was that they would slow down everything so that he could relax more during the time between when his sticks actually hit the drum set. So far he's hurting.

One big change as the Stones begin to age ever so slightly is that they have become much less demanding about what goes on backstage and hotel roomwise. Each man only gets one professional whore (except Ronnie Woods, the baby at 58, gets two due to his younger genitals) and two groupies a night. This ain't so bad, because the boys just want to talk nowadays, anyhow.

The bowl of coke has been replaced with a pitcher of Diet Coke. And the red and green M&M's have been tossed for a plate of Ex-Lax. Also, instead of throwing tv sets out of hotel room windows, they watch the shows. Keith Richards was said to be devastated by the death of Myron Floren. Mick watches the news channels, except when the news is really bad. Then he turns it off and goes quietly to bed, a tear in his eye.

Good luck to the Rolling Stones! And get your tickets while you can. This may be their third or forth next to last concert tour this decade.

jp

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Fingers Pointing...Our Heros Take Credit, Cast Blame

The finger pointing between Republicans and Democrats has heated up enough to make me want to attempt to draw up my poor old pitiful "special" finger and point out where we all went wrong. But I tire easy. And this week is a wreck.

The liberals wanted George Bush to leave his Fortress Of Solitude BEFORE the hurricane struck, turn it around and throw it out to space. He is the president. Where WAS he?

The Republicans respond by pointing to the now $FIFTY BILLION (Please allow me to emphasize...$FIFTY BILLION!!!) load of cash being sent out to New Orleans and environs, snickering as they do when they show the world how much money they can spend too. I would ask for a bill of particulars or an itemized list of what is planned with my fifty billion, but we can't wait to think about what the money's for. It's for the sad sad people of New Orleans, who need our help (even if it means that we help them enough that one day, we will have to go callin', hat in hand, to have them help us back).


War in Iraq. Utter destruction along the Gulf Coast. And now the politicians, the carpetbaggers of false charity, will blow strong, the winds of altruism that all Americans possess.

Would have liked to have been asked though.

Joe Postove

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

George Gets His Groove Back

Probably for the first time since he got TWO coke spoons for his 25th birthday, George Bush II looks like the Cheshire cat who just ate a shit cake. For the first time in over 30 years there are TWO vacancies on the Supreme Court, and the president gets to fill them both. George has got his groove back!

Neither the battle of New Orleans or that old damnditty war in Iraq is gonna subdue his excitement over getting to "conservatize" (as the pres might say) the court a little more. He's so happy, even his Mom is starting to look good.


Since the President is going to try to boost Roberts up to chief to replace his mentor Rehnquist (RIP), now he has to put on his thinking cap, and come up with another selection for Congress to consider. Since his thinking cap is still down at the ranch, he'll have to get one of the old former presidents to fetch it for him. If nothing else, the President is a great employer of ex-presidents. Except Jimmy Carter, of course. He won't even let him in the yard.

Now that the opening of the court's new session is less than a month away, the pressure is on to name a nominee. He will cross his fingers, pray to Jesus, and have to come up with a girl, probably, and one not so righty.

I nominate Greta Van Susteren. She's already in my court!

jp

Saturday, September 03, 2005

It IS Libertarianism And Things

If you pooch your neck up a notch, you'll remember that we call this blog "Libertarianism And Things". And we do it for a good reason. Government causes by a factor of a million, more misery than it does comfort. And I look for ways to blame government, even when the case is hard to make, just to keep my anti-statist bonifides well greased. The state, manifested so liberally, cannot lift us up, but it can and does, often and well, bring us down.

New Orleans. Even though none of you can lay your finger upon that provision of the United States Constitution that provides for the Federal Government to provide aid to those awesomely poor, pitiful people caught in this most dasterdly of nature's tricks, no one, myself included would interpose himself between the U.S.A. sending all of the help it can to this ruined town. This is a national emergency, people are dead and dying, and damn the Constitution!

I hate myself for saying that, but let it go, Joe. But as someone who cares about the future of the world (I'm sure some of y'all are in that group too) and even more, cares about the future of our country, there are questions that will be asked and need to be answered.

Since no one I know caused the hurricane to cream New Orleans and the Gulf coast, to what extent do we expect the taxpayers to foot the bill for EVERYTHING that the poor people will need in the months and years ahead? Would I be justified in saying "hey wait a minute, I didn't order all that"!

I don't think I should have to pay for a new house for everyone who lost one. At least not right there where your last one blew away. Or a new car. Or too much more than what they need to get back upright. Am I correct that you are not asking for donations, Mr. President? That the ten and one half billion dollar relief bill (old Ev Dirkson would say we're getting into real money here) for the refugees down there is your hand down my pants and into my pocket, not a hand out asking nice like?"

No one can look at the tv this week and not be heartbroken at what has happened to a great city. I never made it to New Orleans, and it looks like I never will. At least not the same one that was waiting for me. I am sick in their woe.

Those that believe in large government, who propose that a government solution to "society's problems" is nearly the sole activity worthy of the state, deserve a large measure of the blame for the aftermath of the hurricane. She blew into New Orleans and took much of her with her, and there wasn't anything to be done about that. But the utter helplessness, the total unprepared state of the city that was a sitting duck for this catastrophe, and more than anything, the culture of dependency and expectation from the state have deprived these people of what is rightfully theirs. The realization of the ownership of the self. As soon as something major goes askew, they have not a clue. Not a goddamned clue how to live long enough for those who do care, the volunteers, to get their act together and man the charities. The liberal "wisdom" has doomed them to a life of plantation living. And when ole' massa (government) isn't up to providing for their needs, these slaves to the state revert to a child-like existence. For those that can continue to exist.

There's nothing we can do about that now. The government has the resources it has stolen from the working people (including those it will now help) and will do its "duty" and march in to save the day. There's no way around that.

Except learn.

Joe Postove

Friday, September 02, 2005

The Big Easy Is A Stoned M...

Who could have guessed that New Orleans was only a hurricane away from ruination? That anarchy could take this most carefree of towns and turn it into a "Thunderdome" of blood, shit and agony.

I paid $3.20 a gallon today. I filled the tank, which ran over 50 bucks and then it occurred to me that it might be nice to have a lock on my gas cap. I couldn't find one. And one was all I needed. If I had a gun and could point straight, I would shoot, on sight, any looters of my precious cargo. Damn if I don't go out late tonight to do my paper route and find some sucker has drained my tank dry. How close are any of us to anarchy?

And those really pitiful, wantful, wasting away people in Orleans, who remind one more of Somalia than a modern American city. Mamma's, children, desperados
and others have after three days of incredible suffering been brought to the level of an American ward, hands always out, eyes always teared, and begging for the government to save them.

It is the begging that pricks my soul. Americans begging for their government to do SOMETHING; if something is only to get them the hell out of there. The government will get there. And eventually, although it will be a long time, most of these folks will resume life as they knew it. But with a big long hard scar.

From one night in the Big Easy.

Joe Postove