Mon - May 5, 2008
HILLARY X
the little that is all.
Remember when some people -- including that
all-high arbiter of cultural identity, Professor Cornell West -- were wondering
if Barack Obama is black enough? It's safe to assume, I suppose --
Professor West, after all, is now a staunch Obama supporter and advisor -- that
everyone worried about such things decided that he is. But I've been wondering
whether those same people are now afraid that Hillary, long-time favorite of
African-American voters and wife of the former First Black President, is perhaps too
black.
While Senator Obama orates himself across the country, telling us that he has a dream of hope and change, Senator Clinton takes a more fierce and occasionally radical approach, stirring up trouble and angering the establishment and doing her best to win the nomination by any means necessary. It's not just Senator Breath of Fresh Air vs. Senator Sniper Fire; it's Senator Dr. King vs. Senator Malcolm X.
Which means that John McCain must be Senator George Wallace.
While Senator Obama orates himself across the country, telling us that he has a dream of hope and change, Senator Clinton takes a more fierce and occasionally radical approach, stirring up trouble and angering the establishment and doing her best to win the nomination by any means necessary. It's not just Senator Breath of Fresh Air vs. Senator Sniper Fire; it's Senator Dr. King vs. Senator Malcolm X.
Which means that John McCain must be Senator George Wallace.
Posted at 12:39 PM
Tue - April 29, 2008
GREETINGS, GIFTS, GRATUITIES
and plaintive cries for
humanity.
I am, of course, incredibly biased -- the guy's
been one of my best friends for twenty years, and he was the
Mother-of-All-Toasts-Giving Best Man at my wedding -- but even if I didn't know
him, and I had just stumbled upon this Contact
Info text next to a grainy photo of a guy with a really wide eye that
seemed to be staring straight over my left shoulder at something sure to scare
the hell out of me, I would still repeat it here, because it's one of the
funniest things I've read online in a very long
time:
Please send greetings, gifts, gratuities, business offers, endorsements, requests, love letters, and fond farewells to:
jim [a/t] jimpascoe [d/o/t] com
If you can't figure out this coded email, please consult with someone under the age of 16.
If you are a spam robot and CAN figure this out, I will immediately rent THE TERMINATOR and cry for humanity.
So if you're under 16, a souped-up new spam robot, or just someone who appreciates good humor, please consider sending Jim a greeting or a gratuity. Tell him that TWM tipped you off. And then ask him to play "Freebird."
Please send greetings, gifts, gratuities, business offers, endorsements, requests, love letters, and fond farewells to:
jim [a/t] jimpascoe [d/o/t] com
If you can't figure out this coded email, please consult with someone under the age of 16.
If you are a spam robot and CAN figure this out, I will immediately rent THE TERMINATOR and cry for humanity.
So if you're under 16, a souped-up new spam robot, or just someone who appreciates good humor, please consider sending Jim a greeting or a gratuity. Tell him that TWM tipped you off. And then ask him to play "Freebird."
Posted at 01:24 PM
Tue - April 22, 2008
KILROY CALLED
and so did everyone else.
With apologies to
Styx...
Domo arigato, Mr. Robocall
Domo...domo
Domo arigato, Mrs. Robocall
Domo...domo
Domo arigato, Mr. Robocall
Damn you...damn you
You're wondering who I am
With calls made from Japan
Hillary or Barack
Michelle or now Chris Rock
I've got a secret I've been hiding in your phone
My voice is human, your blood is boiling, on and on I drone
So if you hear me acting strangely, don't be surprised
I'm a consultant who needed someone to charge and drive
To keep me alive, to keep me alive
Something to do, to keep me justified
I am the modren call, who hides behind a wall
So no one else can see my own caller I.D.
Domo arigato, Mr. Robocall
Domo...domo
Domo arigato, Mrs. Robocall
Damn you...Damn you
Thank you very much, Mr. Robocall
For doing the jobs that humans used to
And thank you very much, Mr. Robocall
For calling me at home when I don't want you to
Thank you, thank you, I want to thank you
Please, thank you
The problem's plain to see
Too much technology
Machines to make our calls
Machines to whore us all
The time has come at last
To throw away this mask
So everyone can see
My true caller I.D.
It's 6-6-6!
6-6-6!
6-6-6!...
Domo arigato, Mr. Robocall
Domo...domo
Domo arigato, Mrs. Robocall
Domo...domo
Domo arigato, Mr. Robocall
Damn you...damn you
You're wondering who I am
With calls made from Japan
Hillary or Barack
Michelle or now Chris Rock
I've got a secret I've been hiding in your phone
My voice is human, your blood is boiling, on and on I drone
So if you hear me acting strangely, don't be surprised
I'm a consultant who needed someone to charge and drive
To keep me alive, to keep me alive
Something to do, to keep me justified
I am the modren call, who hides behind a wall
So no one else can see my own caller I.D.
Domo arigato, Mr. Robocall
Domo...domo
Domo arigato, Mrs. Robocall
Damn you...Damn you
Thank you very much, Mr. Robocall
For doing the jobs that humans used to
And thank you very much, Mr. Robocall
For calling me at home when I don't want you to
Thank you, thank you, I want to thank you
Please, thank you
The problem's plain to see
Too much technology
Machines to make our calls
Machines to whore us all
The time has come at last
To throw away this mask
So everyone can see
My true caller I.D.
It's 6-6-6!
6-6-6!
6-6-6!...
Posted at 05:08 PM
Wed - March 26, 2008
A BRIEF INTERLUDE
for the sake of the political
aesthetic.
Hi there.
I don't actually have a new post ready to go yet, but I had to write something here, because I was tired of being haunted by the thought of that damned Newsweek cover still sitting at the top of the page.
This should push it down a little farther.
And a little farther.
And just a little farther still.
There we go.
That's better.
Carry on...
I don't actually have a new post ready to go yet, but I had to write something here, because I was tired of being haunted by the thought of that damned Newsweek cover still sitting at the top of the page.
This should push it down a little farther.
And a little farther.
And just a little farther still.
There we go.
That's better.
Carry on...
Posted at 05:18 PM
Mon - March 17, 2008
CARBOLIC WEAR
wear the funny.
In our ongoing quest to take over the world one
joke and one media outlet at a time, the Carbolic
Smoke Ball team proudly announces the opening of the CarbolicWear
web
store. We've set up shop with the fine folks at SpreadShirt to
deliver high-quality t-shirts at reasonable
prices.
We currently have three designs in multiple styles and colors. Many more are on the way, and we're always happy to take requests for your favorite Carbolic stories, headlines, and images.
(Just to spice things up a bit, the Spreadshirters are offering a Coupon Code for $5 off shipping on all orders over $25 placed between now and March 21st. Just enter the code MarchMadness at checkout, and your wickedly quick delivery -- I placed a test order on a Monday night and got my t-shirt Wednesday afternoon -- of your wickedly cool t-shirts will be wickedly cheap too.)
If you like to read the funny, we hope you'll want to wear the funny too.
We currently have three designs in multiple styles and colors. Many more are on the way, and we're always happy to take requests for your favorite Carbolic stories, headlines, and images.
(Just to spice things up a bit, the Spreadshirters are offering a Coupon Code for $5 off shipping on all orders over $25 placed between now and March 21st. Just enter the code MarchMadness at checkout, and your wickedly quick delivery -- I placed a test order on a Monday night and got my t-shirt Wednesday afternoon -- of your wickedly cool t-shirts will be wickedly cheap too.)
If you like to read the funny, we hope you'll want to wear the funny too.
Posted at 07:07 AM
Sat - March 15, 2008
WHEN GERMAN EYES ARE ROLLING
at a wee bit o' blarney.
This afternoon, around 5:15, on opposite corners of
Forbes and Murray, a man and a woman stood brandishing green signs with white
letters, a shamrock posing as an apostrophe, and the inscription:
O'BAMA.
My first thought was: O'LAME-O.
My second thought was: I can't wait to see the OBAMAWITZ signs at Passover.
My first thought was: O'LAME-O.
My second thought was: I can't wait to see the OBAMAWITZ signs at Passover.
Posted at 08:21 PM
Tue - March 11, 2008
Sun - March 9, 2008
HAIR TODAY
gone to morrow.
A sure sign that, time change or no time change,
you should have stayed in bed: when you wake up, get up, turn on your television
with the hope of catching a weather report, and see instead a close-up of a man
combing his Guinness-Book-certified world's longest ear hair.
Posted at 09:01 AM
Thu - March 6, 2008
DAY OF THE DICKHEAD MINIVAN DRIVER
a sequel no one was waiting for, but everyone
was expecting.
There must be something about Thursdays. And
minivans. In Squirrel Hill.
After last Thursday's semi-satirical, Romeroesque rant about the death of safety and civility and the rise of zombie-worthy minivan drivers on the mean and savage streets of the greater East End, today comes an email from one of TWM's most faithful and favorite readers -- we'll call her Mrs. Smith -- with another tale of Squirrel Hill horror and minivan mayhem:
Given your recent post regarding minivans and the dickheads who drive them, I know you will appreciate my own minivan encounter from this morning. Sadly, I must add, it also involves endangering the lives of young children.
As I approached the intersection of Forward and Murray, I was cut off by a minivan. Not just any minivan mind you, but one that was transporting school children. We both turned onto Pocusset. As I followed behind, I could see the silhouette of a cell phone in the driver's extended right hand with the driver talking into the phone. At the top of the hill, instead of stopping at the stop sign, the minivan pulled a U-turn, turning the vehicle across both lanes of traffic on Wightman, bringing all traffic to a halt. Apparently the minivan was picking up a school student waiting at the corner. Once the child was inside the minivan, the driver turned down Pocusset, all the while still chatting away on the cell phone.
Here I thought it was just people dropping off their children at school we had to worry about. But now it's the school vehicles as well. I'm surprised the driver actually stopped to pick up the child. I almost expected the side door to slide open with the waiting child running alongside so he could jump in. What's more important, your damn phone call or the safety of the children for which you are responsible?
I guess I got my answer.
You certainly did, my dear. Too bad it's the same one we always get, over and over and over again, whenever we hit the streets and hope for the best and try to survive a world in which drivers of two-ton deadly weapons show the same amounts of human concern and consciousness as these guys.
After last Thursday's semi-satirical, Romeroesque rant about the death of safety and civility and the rise of zombie-worthy minivan drivers on the mean and savage streets of the greater East End, today comes an email from one of TWM's most faithful and favorite readers -- we'll call her Mrs. Smith -- with another tale of Squirrel Hill horror and minivan mayhem:
Given your recent post regarding minivans and the dickheads who drive them, I know you will appreciate my own minivan encounter from this morning. Sadly, I must add, it also involves endangering the lives of young children.
As I approached the intersection of Forward and Murray, I was cut off by a minivan. Not just any minivan mind you, but one that was transporting school children. We both turned onto Pocusset. As I followed behind, I could see the silhouette of a cell phone in the driver's extended right hand with the driver talking into the phone. At the top of the hill, instead of stopping at the stop sign, the minivan pulled a U-turn, turning the vehicle across both lanes of traffic on Wightman, bringing all traffic to a halt. Apparently the minivan was picking up a school student waiting at the corner. Once the child was inside the minivan, the driver turned down Pocusset, all the while still chatting away on the cell phone.
Here I thought it was just people dropping off their children at school we had to worry about. But now it's the school vehicles as well. I'm surprised the driver actually stopped to pick up the child. I almost expected the side door to slide open with the waiting child running alongside so he could jump in. What's more important, your damn phone call or the safety of the children for which you are responsible?
I guess I got my answer.
You certainly did, my dear. Too bad it's the same one we always get, over and over and over again, whenever we hit the streets and hope for the best and try to survive a world in which drivers of two-ton deadly weapons show the same amounts of human concern and consciousness as these guys.
Posted at 03:21 PM
Sat - March 1, 2008
ONE-IN-EIGHTEEN-THOUSAND
the item is a joke; the stat is a
fact.
A few months ago, my friend and colleague over at
the Carbolic Smoke Ball, the Honorable Rufus Peckham, Esq., J.D., Q.E.D.,
borrowed a post of mine -- something about a boy mayor and a bunch of grapes, if
I remember
correctly -- and cross-posted it because he absolutely loved it,
because he wanted more people to read it, and because (let's face it) he was
probably too lazy to come up with another post of his own. I've been meaning to
return the favor and the honor for my favorite His Honor ever since, and Lord
knows I could have done it any number of times -- the guy is, in addition to
being a jurist and a webmaster and a star advice columnist for the Pittsburgh
Tribune-Review, a bona fide comedic genius -- but I've been waiting for just
the right one to come along.
Yesterday, it came.
Now the Judge, being the incredibly nice and humble guy that he is, likes to give credit where it is due and sometimes even where it is not. He credits me and my campus rape myth post for much of the inspiration for this piece, and, while it is true that I suggested the giveaway item when he ran the idea across my inbox, it is also true that, were I (or anyone else, for that matter) to have spent six weeks on this concept, I (or anyone else, for that matter) could not have come up with such a damned fine and delicate balance of laugh-out-loud comedy and spot-on social commentary:
PITT TO GIVE AWAY iPOD FOR EVERY SEXUAL ASSAULT COMPLAINT
IN EFFORT TO INCREASE 'EMBARRASSINGLY LOW' STATS
PITTSBURGH - Velveeta Swayne-Lugosi, coordinator of the University of Pittsburgh's Office of Sexual Assault Services, announced that starting immediately the University will give away a free iPod to every female on campus who reports a sexual assault. "It is our hope that women subjected to brutal rapes will be able to enjoy their iPod Classic, with up to 160 GB of storage, throughout the entire medical, judicial, and recovery ordeal."
The giveaway is designed to increase Pitt's historically low sexual assault numbers. "There is a campus rape epidemic in America, except that the victims themselves don't know about it," explained Ms. Swayne-Lugosi. In 2006, of all the crimes reported to Pitt's campus police, there was just one report of an on-campus sexual assault of any kind, compared to 32 burglaries and 120 liquor law violations. "One would think with so many liquor law violations, we would have far more sexual assaults, but sadly that's not the case," said Ms. Swayne-Lugosi.
Ms. Swayne-Lugosi chronicled the chilling facts about campus rape. "Rape is the most underreported of all crimes. We know it's underreported because no one is reporting all these rapes that must be occurring. Which proves, of course, that rape is rampant on campus. We think the free iPod will encourage those women who like to listen to good music and who have been brutally raped, usually by a formerly trusted and loyal male friend or classmate, to come forward."
Ms. Swayne-Lugosi discounted the concerns of male students that the giveaway might encourage false accusations. "That's the whole idea, Einstein," she said. After a short pause she added, "Please don't print that."
And what if free iPods don't get the numbers up? "Well, given the number of burglaries on campus, maybe we'll have to think about changing the feminist mantra from 'All men are rapists' to 'All men are burglars.'"
Once you've stopped laughing, here's a note to make you cry -- and to prove Tuesday's point all the more: that number of sexual assault reports for the University of Pittsburgh in 2006 is not a joke. It's a fact. One sexual assault report, in an entire year, from a campus of roughly 18,000 young women.
If one-in-four were correct, young women at Pitt should have suffered roughly 4,500 sexual assaults in 2006. (And most of those should have taken place between August and Thanksgiving. Right?) Even if you cut that number by one-fourth again, figuring that the numbers should correspond not to the whole campus but to a single class moving through a four-year cycle, young women at Pitt should have suffered roughly 1,125 sexual assaults in 2006. And yet they reported 1. Which means, of course, that if we are to believe that absurd, discredited, yet still oft-cited, oft-repeated, oft-mutated one-in-four statistic, sexual assaults at the University of Pittsburgh were, in 2006, under-reported by 99.98%. Or at least by 99.91%.
No wonder they're giving away the iPods.
Yesterday, it came.
Now the Judge, being the incredibly nice and humble guy that he is, likes to give credit where it is due and sometimes even where it is not. He credits me and my campus rape myth post for much of the inspiration for this piece, and, while it is true that I suggested the giveaway item when he ran the idea across my inbox, it is also true that, were I (or anyone else, for that matter) to have spent six weeks on this concept, I (or anyone else, for that matter) could not have come up with such a damned fine and delicate balance of laugh-out-loud comedy and spot-on social commentary:
PITT TO GIVE AWAY iPOD FOR EVERY SEXUAL ASSAULT COMPLAINT
IN EFFORT TO INCREASE 'EMBARRASSINGLY LOW' STATS
PITTSBURGH - Velveeta Swayne-Lugosi, coordinator of the University of Pittsburgh's Office of Sexual Assault Services, announced that starting immediately the University will give away a free iPod to every female on campus who reports a sexual assault. "It is our hope that women subjected to brutal rapes will be able to enjoy their iPod Classic, with up to 160 GB of storage, throughout the entire medical, judicial, and recovery ordeal."
The giveaway is designed to increase Pitt's historically low sexual assault numbers. "There is a campus rape epidemic in America, except that the victims themselves don't know about it," explained Ms. Swayne-Lugosi. In 2006, of all the crimes reported to Pitt's campus police, there was just one report of an on-campus sexual assault of any kind, compared to 32 burglaries and 120 liquor law violations. "One would think with so many liquor law violations, we would have far more sexual assaults, but sadly that's not the case," said Ms. Swayne-Lugosi.
Ms. Swayne-Lugosi chronicled the chilling facts about campus rape. "Rape is the most underreported of all crimes. We know it's underreported because no one is reporting all these rapes that must be occurring. Which proves, of course, that rape is rampant on campus. We think the free iPod will encourage those women who like to listen to good music and who have been brutally raped, usually by a formerly trusted and loyal male friend or classmate, to come forward."
Ms. Swayne-Lugosi discounted the concerns of male students that the giveaway might encourage false accusations. "That's the whole idea, Einstein," she said. After a short pause she added, "Please don't print that."
And what if free iPods don't get the numbers up? "Well, given the number of burglaries on campus, maybe we'll have to think about changing the feminist mantra from 'All men are rapists' to 'All men are burglars.'"
Once you've stopped laughing, here's a note to make you cry -- and to prove Tuesday's point all the more: that number of sexual assault reports for the University of Pittsburgh in 2006 is not a joke. It's a fact. One sexual assault report, in an entire year, from a campus of roughly 18,000 young women.
If one-in-four were correct, young women at Pitt should have suffered roughly 4,500 sexual assaults in 2006. (And most of those should have taken place between August and Thanksgiving. Right?) Even if you cut that number by one-fourth again, figuring that the numbers should correspond not to the whole campus but to a single class moving through a four-year cycle, young women at Pitt should have suffered roughly 1,125 sexual assaults in 2006. And yet they reported 1. Which means, of course, that if we are to believe that absurd, discredited, yet still oft-cited, oft-repeated, oft-mutated one-in-four statistic, sexual assaults at the University of Pittsburgh were, in 2006, under-reported by 99.98%. Or at least by 99.91%.
No wonder they're giving away the iPods.
Posted at 01:32 PM
Thu - February 28, 2008
DAWN OF THE DICKHEAD MINIVAN DRIVERS
when there's no more room in hell, the dead will
drive a caravan in squirrel hill.
I have in the past made no secret of my disdain for
most minivan drivers -- please note that I said, most; my brother- and
sister-in-law are excellent and courteous minivan drivers, as are our old next
door neighbors and, I'm sure, three or four other people in the world -- and the
events of this morning's mini-commute, taking Adam to his bus stop and Wendy to
the soul-sucking vortex that is the Tepper School of Business, will do nothing
to soothe that prejudice.
At Forbes and Murdoch, a silver minivan braking, then blowing through a stop sign to cross oncoming traffic.
At Murray and Hobart, a dark blue minivan, in clear and dangerous violation of state law, with its roof, its rear window, and two of its side windows still covered in snow through which the driver could not possibly have seen unless he were Superman. Or God. (And I'm doubting either would choose to tool around town in, of all things, a dark blue minivan.)
At Shady and Beacon, a beige minivan -- is there a more fitting symbol of all that is dull and uninspiring in the world? -- waiting for something I could not determine (the first day of Spring? the second horseman of the apocalypse?) to come along and signal that it is safe to turn left at a green light when no cars or pedestrians or even small mammals are headed your way.
At Forbes and Denniston, a black minivan, in clear and frustrating violation of state and city law, sprawled across an intersection, blocking the box for two different cars trying to move in two different directions, its driver happily chatting away on her cell phone, while her toddler, deep into perhaps the tenth minute of his commute and already careening toward chronic overstimulation, cast his vacant stare toward an overhead video screen showing Finding Nemo.
A better choice, for that minivan and for all its automotive brethren this morning, would have been The Incredibles. Or maybe Dawn of the Dead.
At Forbes and Murdoch, a silver minivan braking, then blowing through a stop sign to cross oncoming traffic.
At Murray and Hobart, a dark blue minivan, in clear and dangerous violation of state law, with its roof, its rear window, and two of its side windows still covered in snow through which the driver could not possibly have seen unless he were Superman. Or God. (And I'm doubting either would choose to tool around town in, of all things, a dark blue minivan.)
At Shady and Beacon, a beige minivan -- is there a more fitting symbol of all that is dull and uninspiring in the world? -- waiting for something I could not determine (the first day of Spring? the second horseman of the apocalypse?) to come along and signal that it is safe to turn left at a green light when no cars or pedestrians or even small mammals are headed your way.
At Forbes and Denniston, a black minivan, in clear and frustrating violation of state and city law, sprawled across an intersection, blocking the box for two different cars trying to move in two different directions, its driver happily chatting away on her cell phone, while her toddler, deep into perhaps the tenth minute of his commute and already careening toward chronic overstimulation, cast his vacant stare toward an overhead video screen showing Finding Nemo.
A better choice, for that minivan and for all its automotive brethren this morning, would have been The Incredibles. Or maybe Dawn of the Dead.
Posted at 08:55 AM
Mon - February 25, 2008
BARACK OBAMA IS TURNING ME INTO A NEO-CON
and i'm kinda freaked out about
it.
For a long time now, I've been skeptical of Barack
Obama and his candidacy. Now I'm starting to get pissed at them. If only
because, in the past week alone, they've forced me to read, and then to agree
with, a column by Karl Rove and another by Jack Kelly.
Those two incidents were frightening and infuriating enough for a lifetime. And then, this morning, I (sort of) agreed with Ruth Ann Dailey. So let me say right now that if, sometime in the next few weeks, I'm suddenly agreeing with Rush Limbaugh or Glenn Beck too, I'm gonna have to shoot someone. And it's not gonna be me.
(Note to Michelle Obama, Edna Medford, and that young acquaintance of Clyde Barrett: Don't worry, it's not gonna be Senator Obama either. I'm only joking. Mostly.)
Those two incidents were frightening and infuriating enough for a lifetime. And then, this morning, I (sort of) agreed with Ruth Ann Dailey. So let me say right now that if, sometime in the next few weeks, I'm suddenly agreeing with Rush Limbaugh or Glenn Beck too, I'm gonna have to shoot someone. And it's not gonna be me.
(Note to Michelle Obama, Edna Medford, and that young acquaintance of Clyde Barrett: Don't worry, it's not gonna be Senator Obama either. I'm only joking. Mostly.)
Posted at 12:27 PM
Wed - February 20, 2008
THESE SLIPPERY PEOPLE
help us understand what's the matter with
them.
From a self-described avid reader of TWM --
we like those kind; we'll call this one Ms. G. -- comes a note that the National
Weather Service, in its infinite delirium, fears for our safety this evening
because of...
...wait for it...
...SLIPPERY SPOTS TONIGHT...
THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE SAYS SNOWFALL THIS EVENING WILL BE LIGHT WITH MOST LOCATIONS GETTING NO MORE THAN A THIN COATING. HOWEVER THERE CAN BE SLIPPERY SPOTS...SO TAKE EXTRA CARE WALKING AND DRIVING.
IT SEEMS REGARDLESS OF HOW SMALL THE SNOWFALL...ITS IMPORTANT TO TAKE EXTRA CARE WHEN ONE VENTURES OUT IN SNOWY WINTRY WEATHER. UNTREATED PAVEMENTS CAN BECOME SLIPPERY EITHER FROM NEW SNOWFALL OR FROM MELTED SNOW LEAVING A MOISTURE RESIDUE THAT CAN UNEXPECTEDLY DEVELOP INTO BLACK ICE. PAY PARTICULAR ATTENTION RIGHT AFTER IT GETS DARK...AS THIS SEEMS TO BE A FAVORABLE TIME FOR THIS TO HAPPEN.
And there you have it, folks: watch out for slippery spots, black ice, that dreaded moisture residue, and sudden squalls of poorly written, unnecessarily alarmist weather bulletins.
...wait for it...
...SLIPPERY SPOTS TONIGHT...
THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE SAYS SNOWFALL THIS EVENING WILL BE LIGHT WITH MOST LOCATIONS GETTING NO MORE THAN A THIN COATING. HOWEVER THERE CAN BE SLIPPERY SPOTS...SO TAKE EXTRA CARE WALKING AND DRIVING.
IT SEEMS REGARDLESS OF HOW SMALL THE SNOWFALL...ITS IMPORTANT TO TAKE EXTRA CARE WHEN ONE VENTURES OUT IN SNOWY WINTRY WEATHER. UNTREATED PAVEMENTS CAN BECOME SLIPPERY EITHER FROM NEW SNOWFALL OR FROM MELTED SNOW LEAVING A MOISTURE RESIDUE THAT CAN UNEXPECTEDLY DEVELOP INTO BLACK ICE. PAY PARTICULAR ATTENTION RIGHT AFTER IT GETS DARK...AS THIS SEEMS TO BE A FAVORABLE TIME FOR THIS TO HAPPEN.
And there you have it, folks: watch out for slippery spots, black ice, that dreaded moisture residue, and sudden squalls of poorly written, unnecessarily alarmist weather bulletins.
Posted at 07:16 PM
READ, REFRESH, WEEP
love.
Great title, isn't it?
I stole it from my good friend Jim Pascoe, who used it as the subject line of an email he sent me last night. That email contained only a hyperlink.
This one.
I stole it from my good friend Jim Pascoe, who used it as the subject line of an email he sent me last night. That email contained only a hyperlink.
This one.
Posted at 08:54 AM
Tue - February 19, 2008
SHE THINKS NOT
the outside-the-buffer-zone idiot letter of the
week
It's been a while since we've had one of these --
not, of course, because they haven't been written or published, but because the
ones that have been written and published just haven't reached out and grabbed
me by the brain or the throat and demanded that I dissect them. This one, from
Ross' own Elizabeth J. Pascuzzi, reached out and grabbed me by the uterus. I
figured that was close enough...
The logic of Erica Fricke ("About Abortion Rates," Feb. 1 letters) makes no sense.
Never mind that Erica Fricke's logic makes perfect sense. (Don't believe me? Read it for yourself.) And never mind that logic, by definition, must make sense. (If it didn't make sense, it would be illogic.) Just consider that whenever a letter to the editor begins by criticizing someone else's sense and logic, the chances of finding actual sense and logic in it are roughly the same as finding sense and logic in the aspirations of a newborn baby. What follows is often little more than a random succession of gurgles and spit-ups.
Ms. Pascuzzi does not disappoint.
She came to the conclusion that "education and contraception" alone have reduced the abortion rate...
That's not exactly the conclusion to which Ms. Fricke came. Her exact words were: it turns out that it's not laws that reduce the abortion rate, but education and contraception. She cites several different statistics in her letter to support that suggestion, and you can find a whole hell of a lot more that she didn't cite.
Education and contraception have reduced the abortion rate. This is a fact. One that people like Ms. Pascuzzi would obviously rather not admit, but also one from which they can not, lest they stick their heads up their own birth canals, hide.
...and that her Planned Parenthood health center is instrumental to this task.
And here you have it, folks. Yet another letter from yet another zealot who sees sex, abortion, education, contraception, women's health, and especially Planned Parenthood as a pitched battle between black and white, between good and evil, with no shades or grays or counterbalances to be had. That sort of stuff sounds good on the stump, and I'm sure it plays well in the vestibules of Ross Township churches where everyone wants to protect the unborn fetus but precious few want to nurture the unwanted child. But out here in the real world, where the real issues are not so simple and the real people who must negotiate them are less simple still, we do well -- and, indeed, do best -- when we acknowledge that complex problems require complex solutions, and that sacrificing good work on the rigid altars of ideology only deepen the divide we hope to cross.
Planned Parenthood is one of the largest abortion providers in the country.
That, of course, is indisputable. Just as it is indisputable that Planned Parenthood is one of the largest preventers of abortion -- through education and contraception, through resources and counseling -- in the country. Just as it is indisputable that Planned Parenthood is one of the largest providers of women's health care in the country.
But not, of course, to hear Ms. Pascuzzi tell it...
Doctors at Planned Parenthood kill babies, that's what they do, that's their job.
Comma splices, run-on sentences, and stillborn grammar aside... yes, that's part of their job. That's part of what they do. Because that's one of the services the offer. But I dare you, Ms. Pascuzzi, to go and talk to a Planned Parenthood doctor, or to any doctor who performs abortions, and try to find one who really loves his work, one who gets us every morning and looks forward to performing abortions and hopes that unwanted pregnancy rates stay nice and high so she'll be performing them for the rest of her life.
I promise you that there's a complexity to these folks -- at least to most of them -- that you are not giving credit to, and surely are not displaying yourself, in your letter. And I also promise that, no matter what you might think or fear, they do not look like this.
Planned Parenthood has a part in reducing the rate of abortions?
Yes. It does. Through education and contraception and a whole host of programs you can read about on its website. Because it really is possible, out here in the real world, to simultaneously provide a medical procedure and reduce the numbers of that procedure being performed. If you don't believe me, go ask any breast cancer surgeon whether, through practice and consultations and alternative procedures, she is not also actively working to reduce the rate of mastectomies she (or anyone else) is performing.
I think not.
That, Ms. Pascuzzi, is quite clear.
And it's just possible that one of the reasons the abortion rate has declined is that more and more young people, through "education," realize that life begins at conception, and that abortion is just plain wrong.
Indeed it is. Just as it is possible -- and, indeed, confirmed -- that more and more young people (and grown people) are taking advantage of the services of Planned Parenthood and other family planning clinics and even their own doctors to realize that they won't have to consider the wrong of abortion if they take a few right and simple steps to prevent the conception. Just as it is possible that, with a little more empathy and a lot less zealotry, people like Ms. Pascuzzi could see a bit more gray -- and a lot less red -- in their not-so-black-and-white world.
The logic of Erica Fricke ("About Abortion Rates," Feb. 1 letters) makes no sense.
Never mind that Erica Fricke's logic makes perfect sense. (Don't believe me? Read it for yourself.) And never mind that logic, by definition, must make sense. (If it didn't make sense, it would be illogic.) Just consider that whenever a letter to the editor begins by criticizing someone else's sense and logic, the chances of finding actual sense and logic in it are roughly the same as finding sense and logic in the aspirations of a newborn baby. What follows is often little more than a random succession of gurgles and spit-ups.
Ms. Pascuzzi does not disappoint.
She came to the conclusion that "education and contraception" alone have reduced the abortion rate...
That's not exactly the conclusion to which Ms. Fricke came. Her exact words were: it turns out that it's not laws that reduce the abortion rate, but education and contraception. She cites several different statistics in her letter to support that suggestion, and you can find a whole hell of a lot more that she didn't cite.
Education and contraception have reduced the abortion rate. This is a fact. One that people like Ms. Pascuzzi would obviously rather not admit, but also one from which they can not, lest they stick their heads up their own birth canals, hide.
...and that her Planned Parenthood health center is instrumental to this task.
And here you have it, folks. Yet another letter from yet another zealot who sees sex, abortion, education, contraception, women's health, and especially Planned Parenthood as a pitched battle between black and white, between good and evil, with no shades or grays or counterbalances to be had. That sort of stuff sounds good on the stump, and I'm sure it plays well in the vestibules of Ross Township churches where everyone wants to protect the unborn fetus but precious few want to nurture the unwanted child. But out here in the real world, where the real issues are not so simple and the real people who must negotiate them are less simple still, we do well -- and, indeed, do best -- when we acknowledge that complex problems require complex solutions, and that sacrificing good work on the rigid altars of ideology only deepen the divide we hope to cross.
Planned Parenthood is one of the largest abortion providers in the country.
That, of course, is indisputable. Just as it is indisputable that Planned Parenthood is one of the largest preventers of abortion -- through education and contraception, through resources and counseling -- in the country. Just as it is indisputable that Planned Parenthood is one of the largest providers of women's health care in the country.
But not, of course, to hear Ms. Pascuzzi tell it...
Doctors at Planned Parenthood kill babies, that's what they do, that's their job.
Comma splices, run-on sentences, and stillborn grammar aside... yes, that's part of their job. That's part of what they do. Because that's one of the services the offer. But I dare you, Ms. Pascuzzi, to go and talk to a Planned Parenthood doctor, or to any doctor who performs abortions, and try to find one who really loves his work, one who gets us every morning and looks forward to performing abortions and hopes that unwanted pregnancy rates stay nice and high so she'll be performing them for the rest of her life.
I promise you that there's a complexity to these folks -- at least to most of them -- that you are not giving credit to, and surely are not displaying yourself, in your letter. And I also promise that, no matter what you might think or fear, they do not look like this.
Planned Parenthood has a part in reducing the rate of abortions?
Yes. It does. Through education and contraception and a whole host of programs you can read about on its website. Because it really is possible, out here in the real world, to simultaneously provide a medical procedure and reduce the numbers of that procedure being performed. If you don't believe me, go ask any breast cancer surgeon whether, through practice and consultations and alternative procedures, she is not also actively working to reduce the rate of mastectomies she (or anyone else) is performing.
I think not.
That, Ms. Pascuzzi, is quite clear.
And it's just possible that one of the reasons the abortion rate has declined is that more and more young people, through "education," realize that life begins at conception, and that abortion is just plain wrong.
Indeed it is. Just as it is possible -- and, indeed, confirmed -- that more and more young people (and grown people) are taking advantage of the services of Planned Parenthood and other family planning clinics and even their own doctors to realize that they won't have to consider the wrong of abortion if they take a few right and simple steps to prevent the conception. Just as it is possible that, with a little more empathy and a lot less zealotry, people like Ms. Pascuzzi could see a bit more gray -- and a lot less red -- in their not-so-black-and-white world.
Posted at 09:33 AM
Thu - February 14, 2008
WHEN IT COMES TO COMMUNICATING THAT BLEAKNESS
he's using mere words to communicate the
wordiness of the words being used.
In case you're just joining us, or if you thought
it was safe to stop playing along at home, let's get you up to date on the
continuing saga of Opinion 250.
First came my Pittsburgh Post-Gazette op-ed piece about failed leadership and faulty work ethics in Pittsburgh. Then came the clumsy, cliché-ridden response, published this past Sunday in the PG, from The Boy Who Would Be The Boy Who Would Be Mayor. Then came my inevitable, exhaustive, 3,900-word rip-snorter of a response to the response, posted this past Sunday right here on TWM. Then came The Burgher's too-kind but much-appreciated declaration of my response to the response as a masterpiece and a work of genius. Then came Admiral Richmond K. Turner's equally gracious suggestion that, with my response to the response, I had outdone [my]self this time, and... that's really saying something. And now comes, perhaps, the best of the lot.
Last night, I received an email from a regular TWM reader, semi-regular correspondent, and prominent local writer -- we'll call him Mr. T. -- who passed along an Opinion 250 submission so smart and so funny that it made me shoot soda out my nostrils, and at least two other orifices I shall not mention, as I read it. This is one of those pieces of sheer, subversive, satirical genius that I wish I'd written. And that I'm damned glad to have read...
In David Caliguiri’s Forum piece about Chad Hermann’s Forum piece about maybe getting up off the sofa and doing some stuff instead of just talking about doing some stuff, I am also compelled to ask: Isn't David Caliguiri guilty of doing the very same thing Chad Hermann is guilty of doing? Which is nothing?
It seems that David, too, is using mere “words” to communicate the wordiness of the words being used by Mr. Hermann, when, like Chad, perhaps he should be using some other form of communication, or perhaps no communication at all. Maybe David should be writing his essay with actions, not letters and punctuation marks, which are the hallmark of a lazy civic thinker (though, admittedly, necessary if you want to write stuff. Which we don't).
Isn’t David, by sitting at his computer and typing up a retort and e-mailing it to the Post-Gazette, just talking and waiting for somebody to come along and have the stones to do something about Chad Hermann’s pitiable existence and feeble wordiness? Shouldn’t David be doing something, instead of writing about it? Why doesn’t he take action? Why doesn’t he pick up a phone book, find Mr. Hermann’s address and kick his fucking ass?
David Caliguiri wrote, “I understand he wants to make a point, but his point would be better made if he offered something more than a simple recitation of Pittsburgh's challenges.” Perhaps David’s point would be better made if, instead a recitation of why Chad Hermann is an ineffectual goob, he went out and proved it. Using science and and experiments and steel.
Isn’t that the way Carnegie would have done it? Would Carnegie have sat around wishing for steel to be made? Writing about steel? No – he bought some land and hired some starving Hungarians and made the steel. And whatever Hungarians were left over, he would have had them go to Chad Hermann's house and kick his fucking ass.
I don’t believe that writing about the bleakness of Mr. Hermann’s outlook is the best approach when it comes to communicating that bleakness. Perhaps sculpture would be a more effective medium. Abstract painting? Quilt-making? Interpretive hammocking? Smoke signals? An elementary school poster contest? The theme could be, make a poster that conveys, in as few words as possible, why words and writing are stupid, and the winner gets a pizza party from Domino’s.
In fact, I know a guy at Domino’s. I’ll call him right now. That’s action, David. Not writing. And when I get him on the line, you can bet I won’t be using words. I’ll scream at the top of my lungs until he guesses what exactly it is I’m trying to convey. It may take a while, but I'm a doer, not a writer, David.
Well, I actually am a writer. But I don’t go around advertising it.
Perhaps the real answer is that it is up to all of us, collectively, to run down Mr. Hermann with our cars the next time we see him walking down the street. The only question is, who among us has the courage to take action and slam their foot to the accelerator? I don't think that's too much to ask. Hell, I’ll do it. I have a shitty car anyway.
In summary, these are the times that try men's souls, and perhaps in these troubled times, Mr. Caliguiri and Mr. Hermann should…
…wait.
What?
Exactly.
First came my Pittsburgh Post-Gazette op-ed piece about failed leadership and faulty work ethics in Pittsburgh. Then came the clumsy, cliché-ridden response, published this past Sunday in the PG, from The Boy Who Would Be The Boy Who Would Be Mayor. Then came my inevitable, exhaustive, 3,900-word rip-snorter of a response to the response, posted this past Sunday right here on TWM. Then came The Burgher's too-kind but much-appreciated declaration of my response to the response as a masterpiece and a work of genius. Then came Admiral Richmond K. Turner's equally gracious suggestion that, with my response to the response, I had outdone [my]self this time, and... that's really saying something. And now comes, perhaps, the best of the lot.
Last night, I received an email from a regular TWM reader, semi-regular correspondent, and prominent local writer -- we'll call him Mr. T. -- who passed along an Opinion 250 submission so smart and so funny that it made me shoot soda out my nostrils, and at least two other orifices I shall not mention, as I read it. This is one of those pieces of sheer, subversive, satirical genius that I wish I'd written. And that I'm damned glad to have read...
In David Caliguiri’s Forum piece about Chad Hermann’s Forum piece about maybe getting up off the sofa and doing some stuff instead of just talking about doing some stuff, I am also compelled to ask: Isn't David Caliguiri guilty of doing the very same thing Chad Hermann is guilty of doing? Which is nothing?
It seems that David, too, is using mere “words” to communicate the wordiness of the words being used by Mr. Hermann, when, like Chad, perhaps he should be using some other form of communication, or perhaps no communication at all. Maybe David should be writing his essay with actions, not letters and punctuation marks, which are the hallmark of a lazy civic thinker (though, admittedly, necessary if you want to write stuff. Which we don't).
Isn’t David, by sitting at his computer and typing up a retort and e-mailing it to the Post-Gazette, just talking and waiting for somebody to come along and have the stones to do something about Chad Hermann’s pitiable existence and feeble wordiness? Shouldn’t David be doing something, instead of writing about it? Why doesn’t he take action? Why doesn’t he pick up a phone book, find Mr. Hermann’s address and kick his fucking ass?
David Caliguiri wrote, “I understand he wants to make a point, but his point would be better made if he offered something more than a simple recitation of Pittsburgh's challenges.” Perhaps David’s point would be better made if, instead a recitation of why Chad Hermann is an ineffectual goob, he went out and proved it. Using science and and experiments and steel.
Isn’t that the way Carnegie would have done it? Would Carnegie have sat around wishing for steel to be made? Writing about steel? No – he bought some land and hired some starving Hungarians and made the steel. And whatever Hungarians were left over, he would have had them go to Chad Hermann's house and kick his fucking ass.
I don’t believe that writing about the bleakness of Mr. Hermann’s outlook is the best approach when it comes to communicating that bleakness. Perhaps sculpture would be a more effective medium. Abstract painting? Quilt-making? Interpretive hammocking? Smoke signals? An elementary school poster contest? The theme could be, make a poster that conveys, in as few words as possible, why words and writing are stupid, and the winner gets a pizza party from Domino’s.
In fact, I know a guy at Domino’s. I’ll call him right now. That’s action, David. Not writing. And when I get him on the line, you can bet I won’t be using words. I’ll scream at the top of my lungs until he guesses what exactly it is I’m trying to convey. It may take a while, but I'm a doer, not a writer, David.
Well, I actually am a writer. But I don’t go around advertising it.
Perhaps the real answer is that it is up to all of us, collectively, to run down Mr. Hermann with our cars the next time we see him walking down the street. The only question is, who among us has the courage to take action and slam their foot to the accelerator? I don't think that's too much to ask. Hell, I’ll do it. I have a shitty car anyway.
In summary, these are the times that try men's souls, and perhaps in these troubled times, Mr. Caliguiri and Mr. Hermann should…
…wait.
What?
Exactly.
Posted at 02:19 PM
Tue - February 12, 2008
A QUICK QUESTION FOR A SNOWY TUESDAY MORNING
because i saw it on tv.
For striking writers to approve a new contract
today, will they have to take a voice vote?
Posted at 07:27 AM
Thu - February 7, 2008
LOLITA, BED OF MY LIFE, DESK OF MY LOINS
put it right next to the humbert humbert night
stand.
Here's a great item, emailed to my attention from
one of TWM's most faithful and favorite readers -- we'll call him Mr. R. --
about the inverse relationship between marketing strategy and cultural
literacy:
LONDON (Reuters) - A chain of retail stores in Britain has withdrawn the sale of beds named Lolita and designed for six-year-old girls after furious parents pointed out that the name was synonymous with sexually active pre-teens.
Woolworths said staff who administer the web site selling the beds were not aware of the connection.
In "Lolita," a 1955 novel by Vladimir Nabokov, the narrator becomes sexually involved with his 12-year-old stepdaughter -- but Woolworths staff had not heard of the classic novel or two subsequent films based on it.
Hence they saw nothing wrong with advertising the Lolita Midsleeper Combi, a whitewashed wooden bed with pull-out desk and cupboard intended for girls aged about six until a concerned mother raised the alarm on a parenting website.
"What seems to have happened is the staff who run the website had never heard of Lolita, and to be honest no one else here had either," a spokesman told British newspapers.
"We had to look it up on (online encyclopedia) Wikipedia. But we certainly know who she is now."
Woolworths said the product had now been dropped.
I would comment on this, but I fear that, beyond what Mr. R. already noted in his email...
Chad -- Consider the implications here: nobody at a major company appears to be aware of Vladimir Nabokov or his signature novel. Nobody. And they're in Britain, a place once so educated I wouldn't be surprised if kidnappers sent ransom notes in classical Greek. So where do they get their ultimate answer? From Wikipedia, the online source for information that comes from we know not where.
...I could add only redundancy. So I'll just stop here, as we all scramble to our bookshelves and our retail catalogs and eagerly await the rollouts of the Jay Gatsby roadster and the Willy Loman briefcase.
LONDON (Reuters) - A chain of retail stores in Britain has withdrawn the sale of beds named Lolita and designed for six-year-old girls after furious parents pointed out that the name was synonymous with sexually active pre-teens.
Woolworths said staff who administer the web site selling the beds were not aware of the connection.
In "Lolita," a 1955 novel by Vladimir Nabokov, the narrator becomes sexually involved with his 12-year-old stepdaughter -- but Woolworths staff had not heard of the classic novel or two subsequent films based on it.
Hence they saw nothing wrong with advertising the Lolita Midsleeper Combi, a whitewashed wooden bed with pull-out desk and cupboard intended for girls aged about six until a concerned mother raised the alarm on a parenting website.
"What seems to have happened is the staff who run the website had never heard of Lolita, and to be honest no one else here had either," a spokesman told British newspapers.
"We had to look it up on (online encyclopedia) Wikipedia. But we certainly know who she is now."
Woolworths said the product had now been dropped.
I would comment on this, but I fear that, beyond what Mr. R. already noted in his email...
Chad -- Consider the implications here: nobody at a major company appears to be aware of Vladimir Nabokov or his signature novel. Nobody. And they're in Britain, a place once so educated I wouldn't be surprised if kidnappers sent ransom notes in classical Greek. So where do they get their ultimate answer? From Wikipedia, the online source for information that comes from we know not where.
...I could add only redundancy. So I'll just stop here, as we all scramble to our bookshelves and our retail catalogs and eagerly await the rollouts of the Jay Gatsby roadster and the Willy Loman briefcase.
Posted at 04:44 AM
Sat - January 26, 2008
FEEL HER WRATH
and smell it, too.
On our way home from Forbes & Murray this
morning, for reasons too complicated to explain and doubtless too embarrassing
to admit, a wide-ranging, far-rambling Hermann Family conversation produced what
we're certain would be a supercool name for a cartoon villainess: Alexis
Bigfart.
Cartoon Network? Disney? Nickelodeon?
We're waiting to hear from you.
Cartoon Network? Disney? Nickelodeon?
We're waiting to hear from you.
Posted at 11:45 AM
Sun - January 13, 2008
REVISIONIST MYSTERY
when wrong is right and right is
left.
Great headline in this morning's Pittsburgh
Post-Gazette: Pollsters say they weren't
wrong.
So Obama did beat Hillary in New Hampshire. We just don't know it yet.
Oh, and this just in: Kerry beat Bush in both Florida and Ohio.
So Obama did beat Hillary in New Hampshire. We just don't know it yet.
Oh, and this just in: Kerry beat Bush in both Florida and Ohio.
Posted at 12:26 PM
Thu - January 10, 2008
ALL COVERS ARE DERANGED
they're addicts feigning shame.
Well, my copy of Newsweek arrived today.
But despite my best efforts, I still wasn't prepared for
what I
saw.
It's just about the only way they could have made it less subtle.
It's just about the only way they could have made it less subtle.
Posted at 03:57 PM
Sun - December 30, 2007
I DON'T WANT YOUR SCHOOL, BUT I DO WANT YOUR MONEY
the privately educated idiot letter of the
week.
Now that we're a full five days past Christmas --
and remember: some cards suggest you only have to wait one minute -- I feel perfectly comfortable
pointing out intellectual vacuity and letter-writing lunacy when I am
unfortunate enough to see it. As I did yesterday, thanks to Cindy Hudson of
Brookline...
I'm writing with a different response regarding the Pittsburgh Promise.
If by different you mean unique or unusual, you're mistaken. Because several letter writers and comment threaders, and even one City Councilman, have already made the same silly suggestion.
But if by different you mean selfish or stupid or senseless, then you're right. It sure is different.
I'm not incredibly concerned about the deal that UPMC attempted to make.
After all, it's not as if that deal were a shady, pay-it-forward, backroom-brokered-and-piecemeal-announced quid pro quo arrangement that betrays a lack of ethics and honesty from both UPMC and (yet again) the Ravenstahl Administration.
Assuming that the Pittsburgh Promise will become a reality, what I would like to ask is why is it not extended to children in private and parochial schools?
Assuming that Ms. Hudson has not been living under a rock for much of the past year, what I would like to ask is: why, Cindy, do you think a deal negotiated by the Superintendent of the Pittsburgh Public Schools, for the benefit of Pittsburgh Public School students, as both a reward for kids who graduate from the public schools and a benefit for families to consider living in the city and to send their children to public schools, should be extended to children in private and parochial schools?
Oh, that's right -- because your kids don't go to the public schools.
They are also the future of our city. And they are also just as deserving of a chance to further their educations.
Of course they are. And they will have plenty of chances to do so. After all, it's not as if the Pittsburgh Promise stands in their way. Or makes them any less likely to further their own educations. But if your children don't attend the Pittsburgh Public Schools, then they can't get scholarships offered to Pittsburgh Public School students.
Is that really so hard to understand?
Those of us who chose to enroll our children in schools other than the public schools did so for our own reasons, and many of us struggle daily to pay the tuition required.
Then you'll be well-prepared to struggle daily to pay the tuition required for your kids to go to college.
Those of us who enroll our children in the Pittsburgh Public Schools did so for our own reasons too. And when our children graduate from them, we will benefit from their scholarship. Those are the rules, and that is the reality. If that $5,000 a year is so important to you -- if it will really make a difference for you and your children -- then you should consider enrolling your children in the Pittsburgh Public Schools. The last time I checked, there was no entrance exam.
And I know they'll welcome your kids with open arms. Even if they are as dense and as self-centered as you.
But our children are still a part of this city, too, and will face the same hurdles that all kids will face when it comes time to pay for college.
But you see, Cindy, they're not a part of this city's school district. And that's where the money is. Because that's where the Promise is kept.
Do you expect to get benefits from companies for which you do not work? Do you expect to get rewards from stores at which you do not shop? Do you expect to win jackpots from lotteries you do not play? If you answered no to any of these questions, then you shouldn't expect your children to receive scholarship funds from schools they do not attend.
(If you answered yes to any of these questions, please seek help immediately. You're even more hopeless than I thought.)
Don't they deserve all the help they can get as well?
So what you're saying is you just want someone, anyone, to pay for your kids' college educations.
Wouldn't we all, honey. Wouldn't we all...
Unless I'm mistaken, to achieve the grades necessary to be eligible for the Pittsburgh Promise, parochial school students have an even bigger hurdle to jump, as the standards are higher for them to reach each letter grade.
Unless I'm mistaken, people whose children attend parochial schools always assume their children are smarter, their schools are better, and their standards are higher than those in public districts. And, unless I'm mistaken, those people are self-important, elitist idiots.
But, hey, I could be wrong. After all, I went to public schools.
I do hope that possibly our mayor might consider this and open up the Pittsburgh Promise to all deserving students in this great city of ours.
He can't do that, Cindy. And if you're paying any attention at all -- I mean, beyond just your own self-interest -- you know that.
(I, with my public school education of hopelessly low standards, figured that out all on my own. Isn't that amazing? And both of my knuckle-dragging, Pittsburgh Public School attending sons have already figured that out too. Do you know why? Because we all understand that this deal was brokered in large part by Mark Roosevelt, the Superintendent of those bad, awful, nasty, worthless Pittsburgh Public Schools. And we understand that Mr. Roosevelt and his sidekick, The Boy Who Would Be Mayor, made this deal for the benefit of the Pittsburgh Public Schools and the students enrolled in them.)
And yet, somehow, after all this time and all this consistent, persistent silliness, I think that Ms. Hudson's thinking has actually rubbed off on me. By sheer blunt force and repetition, she's sort of brought me around to her way of thinking. And so, tomorrow, I'm going to go across the street to Mike Tomlin's house and tell him that it's just not fair for him to use his multi-million dollar contract to pay for the college educations of his own children but not for the college educations of my children. After all, my boys are also the future of this city, and they'll face even more hurdles than the Tomlin boys when it comes to paying for college. And Gee, Mike, I'll say, don't my kids deserve all the help they can get as well? Won't you possibly consider opening up your bank account to all the deserving children on this great street of ours? Or at least just to my kids?
If he won't, I'm gonna have to write a letter to the editor.
I'm writing with a different response regarding the Pittsburgh Promise.
If by different you mean unique or unusual, you're mistaken. Because several letter writers and comment threaders, and even one City Councilman, have already made the same silly suggestion.
But if by different you mean selfish or stupid or senseless, then you're right. It sure is different.
I'm not incredibly concerned about the deal that UPMC attempted to make.
After all, it's not as if that deal were a shady, pay-it-forward, backroom-brokered-and-piecemeal-announced quid pro quo arrangement that betrays a lack of ethics and honesty from both UPMC and (yet again) the Ravenstahl Administration.
Assuming that the Pittsburgh Promise will become a reality, what I would like to ask is why is it not extended to children in private and parochial schools?
Assuming that Ms. Hudson has not been living under a rock for much of the past year, what I would like to ask is: why, Cindy, do you think a deal negotiated by the Superintendent of the Pittsburgh Public Schools, for the benefit of Pittsburgh Public School students, as both a reward for kids who graduate from the public schools and a benefit for families to consider living in the city and to send their children to public schools, should be extended to children in private and parochial schools?
Oh, that's right -- because your kids don't go to the public schools.
They are also the future of our city. And they are also just as deserving of a chance to further their educations.
Of course they are. And they will have plenty of chances to do so. After all, it's not as if the Pittsburgh Promise stands in their way. Or makes them any less likely to further their own educations. But if your children don't attend the Pittsburgh Public Schools, then they can't get scholarships offered to Pittsburgh Public School students.
Is that really so hard to understand?
Those of us who chose to enroll our children in schools other than the public schools did so for our own reasons, and many of us struggle daily to pay the tuition required.
Then you'll be well-prepared to struggle daily to pay the tuition required for your kids to go to college.
Those of us who enroll our children in the Pittsburgh Public Schools did so for our own reasons too. And when our children graduate from them, we will benefit from their scholarship. Those are the rules, and that is the reality. If that $5,000 a year is so important to you -- if it will really make a difference for you and your children -- then you should consider enrolling your children in the Pittsburgh Public Schools. The last time I checked, there was no entrance exam.
And I know they'll welcome your kids with open arms. Even if they are as dense and as self-centered as you.
But our children are still a part of this city, too, and will face the same hurdles that all kids will face when it comes time to pay for college.
But you see, Cindy, they're not a part of this city's school district. And that's where the money is. Because that's where the Promise is kept.
Do you expect to get benefits from companies for which you do not work? Do you expect to get rewards from stores at which you do not shop? Do you expect to win jackpots from lotteries you do not play? If you answered no to any of these questions, then you shouldn't expect your children to receive scholarship funds from schools they do not attend.
(If you answered yes to any of these questions, please seek help immediately. You're even more hopeless than I thought.)
Don't they deserve all the help they can get as well?
So what you're saying is you just want someone, anyone, to pay for your kids' college educations.
Wouldn't we all, honey. Wouldn't we all...
Unless I'm mistaken, to achieve the grades necessary to be eligible for the Pittsburgh Promise, parochial school students have an even bigger hurdle to jump, as the standards are higher for them to reach each letter grade.
Unless I'm mistaken, people whose children attend parochial schools always assume their children are smarter, their schools are better, and their standards are higher than those in public districts. And, unless I'm mistaken, those people are self-important, elitist idiots.
But, hey, I could be wrong. After all, I went to public schools.
I do hope that possibly our mayor might consider this and open up the Pittsburgh Promise to all deserving students in this great city of ours.
He can't do that, Cindy. And if you're paying any attention at all -- I mean, beyond just your own self-interest -- you know that.
(I, with my public school education of hopelessly low standards, figured that out all on my own. Isn't that amazing? And both of my knuckle-dragging, Pittsburgh Public School attending sons have already figured that out too. Do you know why? Because we all understand that this deal was brokered in large part by Mark Roosevelt, the Superintendent of those bad, awful, nasty, worthless Pittsburgh Public Schools. And we understand that Mr. Roosevelt and his sidekick, The Boy Who Would Be Mayor, made this deal for the benefit of the Pittsburgh Public Schools and the students enrolled in them.)
And yet, somehow, after all this time and all this consistent, persistent silliness, I think that Ms. Hudson's thinking has actually rubbed off on me. By sheer blunt force and repetition, she's sort of brought me around to her way of thinking. And so, tomorrow, I'm going to go across the street to Mike Tomlin's house and tell him that it's just not fair for him to use his multi-million dollar contract to pay for the college educations of his own children but not for the college educations of my children. After all, my boys are also the future of this city, and they'll face even more hurdles than the Tomlin boys when it comes to paying for college. And Gee, Mike, I'll say, don't my kids deserve all the help they can get as well? Won't you possibly consider opening up your bank account to all the deserving children on this great street of ours? Or at least just to my kids?
If he won't, I'm gonna have to write a letter to the editor.
Posted at 03:53 PM
Mon - December 24, 2007
BAA HUMBUG
a great pile of presents from the
judge.
If you've not already been there, you shouldhead
over to the Carbolic Smoke Ball and check out our 18-post
Christmas Comedy Extravaganza. Chock full of seasonally absurd and satirical
gifts, it's guaranteed to delight and/or offend just about
everyone.
To give you a little preview -- consider it an early stocking stuffer -- I'm shamelessly re-gifting my favorite one right here. Enjoy...
ANGRY SHEPHERD DECRIES VANDALISM, WARNS COLLEAGUES:
"THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DON'T WATCH YOUR FLOCK BY NIGHT"
To give you a little preview -- consider it an early stocking stuffer -- I'm shamelessly re-gifting my favorite one right here. Enjoy...
ANGRY SHEPHERD DECRIES VANDALISM, WARNS COLLEAGUES:
"THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DON'T WATCH YOUR FLOCK BY NIGHT"
Posted at 09:38 AM
Sat - December 22, 2007
THEY TRANSPLANT FUNNY BONES, DON'T THEY?
or, the (especially pissy) idiot letter of the
week.
Yeah, I know. At this time of the year, in the
season of love and peace and glad tidings, I should be trying to find a little
more patience and tolerance and goodwill toward my fellow man (and woman). And
I am. Really. But when people keep blowing through stop signs and cutting to
the front of checkout lines and writing really, really stupid letters to the editor, I can't hold back
forever...
As a transplant recipient (kidney/pancreas/bone marrow), I thought Bill Toland's "Saturday Diary" showed great insensitivity and lack of compassion for the nearly 100,000 people in this country who are awaiting a lifesaving organ transplant, 18 of whom will die each day ("An Old-Fashioned Shopper Meets Modern-Day Retail," Dec. 15).
As someone who recommended that essay to his readers, as someone who recognizes satire when he reads it, and as someone who does not take himself, his family, nor any of their various ailments so seriously that he could not possibly write a letter as dour and pissy (I know, but I couldn't resist) and insanely hyper-sensitive as this one, I thought Jack Silverstein of Monroeville showed great absurdity and appalling lack of perspective for the nearly 100,000 people in this county who are smart enough to recognize a harmless joke when they see it.
(That said, don't ever let me catch any of you cracking cancer, diabetes, glaucoma, hypertension, lactose intolerance, or prostatitis jokes, lest you suffer the wrath of my poison pen and poisoned sense of self.)
He wrote, in part, "During the holiday season, a weekend space in a mall parking lot is more valuable than a black-market kidney. You think I'm exaggerating, but which would you rather have in your hand right now, a lifetime reserved parking pass at the mall of your choosing, or an ice-cold kidney? Be honest."
Yes, he did write that. Just a few paragraphs before he wrote that his wife had died in a hang-gliding explosion. Maybe she should have written a letter to the editor too.
But, alas, she did not. Perhaps because she, like (almost) all the rest of us, is capable of sensing what writers and seventh-grade English students like to call hyperbole. Or what writers and freshman English students like to call amplification. Or what writers and people with a sense of humor like to call a joke.
(Something tells me it's not a barrel of laughs over at the Silverstein house. And I'm guessing that they never, ever eat split pea soup. Or kidney beans.)
Sixty-five thousand, or 65 percent, of those on the transplant waiting list are waiting for a kidney; another 10 percent are awaiting a multi-organ transplant that includes a kidney.
I'd be willing to bet that at least ninety-nine thousand, or 99 percent, of those people have a better sense of humor than Mr. Silverstein.
I doubt very much that any of these candidates, or their loved ones, would rather have a lifetime parking space in lieu of a kidney.
I doubt very much that any of them, or their loved ones, would think that Bill Toland meant that sentence to be taken seriously. But I'll bet at least a few of them would rather have a Playstation 3, or maybe a date with Jessica Alba, than an ice-cold kidney.
(Note to Mr. Silverstein: that, too, was a joke. I did not mean to disparage anyone with failing kidneys, Nintendo Wiis, or preferences for Johnny Depp.)
Without a lifesaving transplant, their "lifetime" parking pass would be short-lived.
True. But with that parking pass, their short lives would much more enjoyable.
I believe that Mr. Toland and the Post-Gazette owe an apology to the thousands of recipients and candidates in the PG's reading area, as well as to the beautiful organ donors and their families, for their callousness, insensitivity and indifference.
If they should apologize to anyone for anything, it should be for coaxing Mr. Silverstein out of his humor-impaired hole and then loosing him upon the rest of us. If they feel they must address those thousands of recipients and candidates in their reading area, they should apologize for the possibility that someone will read Mr. Silverstein's letter and assume they are equally mirthless.
My only wish is that Mr. Toland never needs a lifesaving organ, especially a kidney.
My only wish is that Mr. Silverstein one day learns to laugh again. (It is the best medicine, you know.)
If he does, I'll be the first to offer him my parking space.
If he does, I'll be the first to congratulate him. And to be sure that no one ever makes him laugh so hard that he...
...well, you know what I mean.
As a transplant recipient (kidney/pancreas/bone marrow), I thought Bill Toland's "Saturday Diary" showed great insensitivity and lack of compassion for the nearly 100,000 people in this country who are awaiting a lifesaving organ transplant, 18 of whom will die each day ("An Old-Fashioned Shopper Meets Modern-Day Retail," Dec. 15).
As someone who recommended that essay to his readers, as someone who recognizes satire when he reads it, and as someone who does not take himself, his family, nor any of their various ailments so seriously that he could not possibly write a letter as dour and pissy (I know, but I couldn't resist) and insanely hyper-sensitive as this one, I thought Jack Silverstein of Monroeville showed great absurdity and appalling lack of perspective for the nearly 100,000 people in this county who are smart enough to recognize a harmless joke when they see it.
(That said, don't ever let me catch any of you cracking cancer, diabetes, glaucoma, hypertension, lactose intolerance, or prostatitis jokes, lest you suffer the wrath of my poison pen and poisoned sense of self.)
He wrote, in part, "During the holiday season, a weekend space in a mall parking lot is more valuable than a black-market kidney. You think I'm exaggerating, but which would you rather have in your hand right now, a lifetime reserved parking pass at the mall of your choosing, or an ice-cold kidney? Be honest."
Yes, he did write that. Just a few paragraphs before he wrote that his wife had died in a hang-gliding explosion. Maybe she should have written a letter to the editor too.
But, alas, she did not. Perhaps because she, like (almost) all the rest of us, is capable of sensing what writers and seventh-grade English students like to call hyperbole. Or what writers and freshman English students like to call amplification. Or what writers and people with a sense of humor like to call a joke.
(Something tells me it's not a barrel of laughs over at the Silverstein house. And I'm guessing that they never, ever eat split pea soup. Or kidney beans.)
Sixty-five thousand, or 65 percent, of those on the transplant waiting list are waiting for a kidney; another 10 percent are awaiting a multi-organ transplant that includes a kidney.
I'd be willing to bet that at least ninety-nine thousand, or 99 percent, of those people have a better sense of humor than Mr. Silverstein.
I doubt very much that any of these candidates, or their loved ones, would rather have a lifetime parking space in lieu of a kidney.
I doubt very much that any of them, or their loved ones, would think that Bill Toland meant that sentence to be taken seriously. But I'll bet at least a few of them would rather have a Playstation 3, or maybe a date with Jessica Alba, than an ice-cold kidney.
(Note to Mr. Silverstein: that, too, was a joke. I did not mean to disparage anyone with failing kidneys, Nintendo Wiis, or preferences for Johnny Depp.)
Without a lifesaving transplant, their "lifetime" parking pass would be short-lived.
True. But with that parking pass, their short lives would much more enjoyable.
I believe that Mr. Toland and the Post-Gazette owe an apology to the thousands of recipients and candidates in the PG's reading area, as well as to the beautiful organ donors and their families, for their callousness, insensitivity and indifference.
If they should apologize to anyone for anything, it should be for coaxing Mr. Silverstein out of his humor-impaired hole and then loosing him upon the rest of us. If they feel they must address those thousands of recipients and candidates in their reading area, they should apologize for the possibility that someone will read Mr. Silverstein's letter and assume they are equally mirthless.
My only wish is that Mr. Toland never needs a lifesaving organ, especially a kidney.
My only wish is that Mr. Silverstein one day learns to laugh again. (It is the best medicine, you know.)
If he does, I'll be the first to offer him my parking space.
If he does, I'll be the first to congratulate him. And to be sure that no one ever makes him laugh so hard that he...
...well, you know what I mean.
Posted at 02:39 PM
Thu - December 20, 2007
A TALE OF TWO WRITERS
or, i know what i think.
One of TWM's most favorite readers and writers --
we'll call him Mr. R. -- just cast an email line my way, and I couldn't resist
hooking all of you with it as
well:
Mark Twain once called America and England "two nations separated by a common language." Never has it been clearer than in this headline from today's Sun:
WHAT DO YOU THINK?
Rafa's Reds Kop it at Bridge: Is time up for gaffer?
To which I can only respond:
Lor' luv a duck! What da 'ell was that? Innit.
Mark Twain once called America and England "two nations separated by a common language." Never has it been clearer than in this headline from today's Sun:
WHAT DO YOU THINK?
Rafa's Reds Kop it at Bridge: Is time up for gaffer?
To which I can only respond:
Lor' luv a duck! What da 'ell was that? Innit.
Posted at 08:53 AM
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Published On: May 05, 2008 12:39 PM
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Published On: May 05, 2008 12:39 PM