© 2009 Stan Spire
Here in the northeastern corner of New York State – NENYland (nee-nee-land) – criminals with the highest IQ’s amaze the public with their daring exploits.
Take the recent bust of a local meth lab. Usually such operations are hidden in way out in the countryside, lost in the wilderness.
Apparently one enterprising criminal decided to save on travel costs; he set up his lab inside an apartment complex in Plattsburgh. Why live in the middle of nowhere when he could take advantage of city life? Also, most of his customer base would be in the city area.
But this genius got busted. Did a friend rat him out? Or did undercover officers get the goods on him?
No. A minor detail tripped him up.
Neighbors noticed this detail and called the police.
One reason why meth labs normally operate in the sparsely populated sticks: no one around to complain about the powerful smell during the manufacturing process.
A minor detail, like I said.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Hail, Great Leader! Mop Faster!
© 2008 Stan Spire
A photo in the local (news)paper: two visiting students from China mopping a floor in a building owned by a community service organization, free of charge.
What was the occasion? These students and others were participating in “Leadership Day,” a special program sponsored by local colleges to give leadership skills and experience that the students could take back to their country.
So what does mopping floors as an unpaid volunteer have to do with leading others? Maybe someone got “leader” mixed up with “coolie.” With the economy being so bad, you gotta make do with what you’ve got. Calling janitor work a “leadership skill” fits the bill – a bill of goods, that is.
After all the years I worked as a janitor, I should be qualified to be US president. (But I’m probably disqualified because I was paid minimum wage.)
A photo in the local (news)paper: two visiting students from China mopping a floor in a building owned by a community service organization, free of charge.
What was the occasion? These students and others were participating in “Leadership Day,” a special program sponsored by local colleges to give leadership skills and experience that the students could take back to their country.
So what does mopping floors as an unpaid volunteer have to do with leading others? Maybe someone got “leader” mixed up with “coolie.” With the economy being so bad, you gotta make do with what you’ve got. Calling janitor work a “leadership skill” fits the bill – a bill of goods, that is.
After all the years I worked as a janitor, I should be qualified to be US president. (But I’m probably disqualified because I was paid minimum wage.)
Sunday, January 11, 2009
The Grapes of Wreath
© 2009 Stan Spire
How sad. They removed the Xmas wreaths from the lampposts in downtown Plattsburgh.
About every other lamppost had been adorned with a green wreath with tiny white lights. You would think that with the city whining about its dire budget shortfall, it would’ve saved some time and money by not putting them up. A gas-guzzling utility truck with a cherry picker had to go from each designated lamppost to affix and later take down each wreath.
But to make money you have to spend money. The wreaths were a great success, drawing crowds away from the mall. People came downtown to walk around and greatly admire each wreath. They oohed and aahed. (Except the French Canadians: they went “ooh-la-la.”)
And while they were downtown, the crowds would spend money at many outstanding establishments in the area, such as the used bookstore and the bars and the coffeehouse and the bars and – well, the bars.
Unfortunately problems ensued. During the daytime wreathophiles couldn’t find a place to park. They kept driving in circles, waiting for a spot to open up. And since they were used to the free unlimited parking at the mall, they were shocked to find parking tickets on their vehicles after two short hours.
At nighttime when the wreaths were in their nocturnal glory, parents with their children had to explain why a shabbily dressed man reeking of alcohol was staggering around, shouting obscenities. They told their innocent young ones that the man had a “medical problem.”
But the crowds did generate some money, especially from the parking tickets.
And isn't that what the holiday$ are all about?
How sad. They removed the Xmas wreaths from the lampposts in downtown Plattsburgh.
About every other lamppost had been adorned with a green wreath with tiny white lights. You would think that with the city whining about its dire budget shortfall, it would’ve saved some time and money by not putting them up. A gas-guzzling utility truck with a cherry picker had to go from each designated lamppost to affix and later take down each wreath.
But to make money you have to spend money. The wreaths were a great success, drawing crowds away from the mall. People came downtown to walk around and greatly admire each wreath. They oohed and aahed. (Except the French Canadians: they went “ooh-la-la.”)
And while they were downtown, the crowds would spend money at many outstanding establishments in the area, such as the used bookstore and the bars and the coffeehouse and the bars and – well, the bars.
Unfortunately problems ensued. During the daytime wreathophiles couldn’t find a place to park. They kept driving in circles, waiting for a spot to open up. And since they were used to the free unlimited parking at the mall, they were shocked to find parking tickets on their vehicles after two short hours.
At nighttime when the wreaths were in their nocturnal glory, parents with their children had to explain why a shabbily dressed man reeking of alcohol was staggering around, shouting obscenities. They told their innocent young ones that the man had a “medical problem.”
But the crowds did generate some money, especially from the parking tickets.
And isn't that what the holiday$ are all about?
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Happy Birthday, Sol
© 2008 Stan Spire
December 25th: Dies Natalis Solis Invicti – Birthday of the Unconquered Sun.
Before Christianity became the state sponsored religion of ancient Rome, Romans believed in Sol Invictus, not “God.” Sol’s feast had been preceded by Saturnalia, a holiday in honor of Saturnus, the god of seed and sowing.
During Saturnalia slaves were free. They could gamble and let off some steam. Once the holiday was over, it was back to the usual social order. The same thing happens now when wage slaves are given the day off and are allowed to get drunk and rowdy at office parties.
Another pagan tradition – Yule or Yule-Tide – was observed by Germanic peoples. Apparently evergreens – wreaths and trees – symbolized the promise of undying life because they stayed green throughout the long winters. Of course, modern man doesn’t bother to mindlessly follow such rituals, spending money on the perfect wreath or tree.
But what ties it all together is the Winter Solstice. Once again we’re back to Sol, the sun-god. Saturnalia, the Feast of Sol Invictus, Yuletide, Christmas – holidays that keep the masses distracted so that they don’t realize that their elitist rulers are greedy idiots wrecking everything.
Keep in mind neither Saturnus or Sol Invictus saved the Roman Empire.
Can Santa or Christ save the American Empire?
December 25th: Dies Natalis Solis Invicti – Birthday of the Unconquered Sun.
Before Christianity became the state sponsored religion of ancient Rome, Romans believed in Sol Invictus, not “God.” Sol’s feast had been preceded by Saturnalia, a holiday in honor of Saturnus, the god of seed and sowing.
During Saturnalia slaves were free. They could gamble and let off some steam. Once the holiday was over, it was back to the usual social order. The same thing happens now when wage slaves are given the day off and are allowed to get drunk and rowdy at office parties.
Another pagan tradition – Yule or Yule-Tide – was observed by Germanic peoples. Apparently evergreens – wreaths and trees – symbolized the promise of undying life because they stayed green throughout the long winters. Of course, modern man doesn’t bother to mindlessly follow such rituals, spending money on the perfect wreath or tree.
But what ties it all together is the Winter Solstice. Once again we’re back to Sol, the sun-god. Saturnalia, the Feast of Sol Invictus, Yuletide, Christmas – holidays that keep the masses distracted so that they don’t realize that their elitist rulers are greedy idiots wrecking everything.
Keep in mind neither Saturnus or Sol Invictus saved the Roman Empire.
Can Santa or Christ save the American Empire?
Just Another Day
© 2008 Stan Spire
Taking a look at the headlines:
-- Attacks kill five in Iraq
-- Two NATO soldiers slain in Afghanistan
-- One British marine killed in Afghanistan on Christmas Eve
-- Gunman in Santa suit kills three at LA party
So where’s all this peace and good will that’s supposed to save the world?
Ask for a refund.
Taking a look at the headlines:
-- Attacks kill five in Iraq
-- Two NATO soldiers slain in Afghanistan
-- One British marine killed in Afghanistan on Christmas Eve
-- Gunman in Santa suit kills three at LA party
So where’s all this peace and good will that’s supposed to save the world?
Ask for a refund.
Not Obliged
© 2008 Stan Spire
If you’re expecting me to wish you “Merry Xmas,” go elsewhere.
If you’re having a great day, good for you. Don’t let me pee on your parade. Just understand that not everyone is marching in step with you. I’m entitled not to get caught up in the holiday cheer, pretending that today is the most special day of the year. I have the right to ignore, dislike – or even hate – the so-called “Happy Holidays.”
Conformity. Fit in or else. If you’re not into the winter holidays group think, there is something wrong with you. Scrooge! Grinch!
Maybe what is “wrong” with me is that I’m an individual. Neither my life experiences and present situation match yours.
Anyway, I’m not depressed – because I’m not pretending, I’m not in denial.
What’s your story?
If you’re expecting me to wish you “Merry Xmas,” go elsewhere.
If you’re having a great day, good for you. Don’t let me pee on your parade. Just understand that not everyone is marching in step with you. I’m entitled not to get caught up in the holiday cheer, pretending that today is the most special day of the year. I have the right to ignore, dislike – or even hate – the so-called “Happy Holidays.”
Conformity. Fit in or else. If you’re not into the winter holidays group think, there is something wrong with you. Scrooge! Grinch!
Maybe what is “wrong” with me is that I’m an individual. Neither my life experiences and present situation match yours.
Anyway, I’m not depressed – because I’m not pretending, I’m not in denial.
What’s your story?
Friday, November 28, 2008
You Greedy Piglets
© 2008 Stan Spire
Bloated. Sitting on your couch, half-hypnotized by the TeeVee. You’re tired, unmotivated. That’s the way The Elitists want you most of the time: indifferent, unaware, but still pliable.
But you can’t loaf around all the time, mired in your abode. This is the time of the year that the Elitists (the Boss Hogs) want you and the other piglets to support their elegant lifestyle, Olympic swimming pools and private jets. It’s time to get you motivated, focused on their goals.
The TeeVee shouts: Big Sales! Grab the Bargains! Don’t Miss Out!
The Elitists appeal to your greedy piglet brain. You stir, ad after ad rousing you into a state of tremendous anticipation. You could enjoy an extra day off from work after the Thanksgiving holiday – but no! You have to get that One Perfect Xmas gift for a loved one. And at a low price. The race is on!
It’s called Black Friday because it helps the stores push their yearly sales up high, great profits. Only black, not red, ink is tolerated. Lots of black ink.
Black Friday also refers to the darkness of people’s souls. Whipped into a frenzy, the materialistic piglets allow their baser emotions to rule. The Elitists sit back and laugh, safe in their comfortable mansions, amused that their manipulations have once again succeeded.
One Xmas parents could only prove their love by buying their offspring a Tickle-Me Elmo doll. Adults acted like bratty kids in the store, pushing each other, to grab that One Perfect Xmas Gift.
Six months later I walked through a Wal-Mart and noticed a display of Tickle-Me Elmo dolls stacked up to the ceiling. People walked by. No one was excited. Yesterday’s news.
But you can’t wait for summer. You have to buy that One Perfect Gift NOW! Set the alarm clock and get up early. Show up at the store in the cold darkness, squeeze in, claiming your spot as part of the growing human tsunami.
You and your fellow beastlings herd outside the locked doors. The handmade sign proclaims: BLITZ LINE STARTS HERE. Pressing, pressing, ready to bolt and grab the bargains inside. At the split second the store swings open its gates, you storm into the retail fortress. Nothing can stand before the stampede. The quick or the dead.
And that’s how you trampled to death a Wal-Mart employee at a Long Island store on Black Friday, 2008.
Bloated. Sitting on your couch, half-hypnotized by the TeeVee. You’re tired, unmotivated. That’s the way The Elitists want you most of the time: indifferent, unaware, but still pliable.
But you can’t loaf around all the time, mired in your abode. This is the time of the year that the Elitists (the Boss Hogs) want you and the other piglets to support their elegant lifestyle, Olympic swimming pools and private jets. It’s time to get you motivated, focused on their goals.
The TeeVee shouts: Big Sales! Grab the Bargains! Don’t Miss Out!
The Elitists appeal to your greedy piglet brain. You stir, ad after ad rousing you into a state of tremendous anticipation. You could enjoy an extra day off from work after the Thanksgiving holiday – but no! You have to get that One Perfect Xmas gift for a loved one. And at a low price. The race is on!
It’s called Black Friday because it helps the stores push their yearly sales up high, great profits. Only black, not red, ink is tolerated. Lots of black ink.
Black Friday also refers to the darkness of people’s souls. Whipped into a frenzy, the materialistic piglets allow their baser emotions to rule. The Elitists sit back and laugh, safe in their comfortable mansions, amused that their manipulations have once again succeeded.
One Xmas parents could only prove their love by buying their offspring a Tickle-Me Elmo doll. Adults acted like bratty kids in the store, pushing each other, to grab that One Perfect Xmas Gift.
Six months later I walked through a Wal-Mart and noticed a display of Tickle-Me Elmo dolls stacked up to the ceiling. People walked by. No one was excited. Yesterday’s news.
But you can’t wait for summer. You have to buy that One Perfect Gift NOW! Set the alarm clock and get up early. Show up at the store in the cold darkness, squeeze in, claiming your spot as part of the growing human tsunami.
You and your fellow beastlings herd outside the locked doors. The handmade sign proclaims: BLITZ LINE STARTS HERE. Pressing, pressing, ready to bolt and grab the bargains inside. At the split second the store swings open its gates, you storm into the retail fortress. Nothing can stand before the stampede. The quick or the dead.
And that’s how you trampled to death a Wal-Mart employee at a Long Island store on Black Friday, 2008.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
