Well, I swanee! There hasn't been this much wailing and railing, gnashing of teeth, tearing of hair, beating of breasts, and ripping of lapels since Fox Books drove The Shop Around the Corner out of business.
Similar evolutionary business developments have occurred in real life. Wal-mart spelled doom for a variety of mom and pop operations. The Home Depot and Lowe's caused the demise of many small Ace Hardware and True Value stores. Walgreens and CVS did in almost all the little corner drug stores scattered in towns around the country. And now we in the Tampa Bay area are soon to witness the incursion of Bass Pro Shops Outdoor World.
Don't know what Bass Pro Shops is? Check out "Last Man Standing", the Tim Allen sitcom that airs on ABC on Friday nights. His Outdoor Man store is essentially what Bass Pro Shops is all about.
Anyhoo, you would think this coup would be a cause for universal celebration. Bass Pro Shops is, after all, a "chain store mecca for hunters and recreational fishermen that is both a shopping palace and indoor expo." It draws customers from miles around. Because of its wild popularity, other stores spring up around it like remoras to a shark. It provides jobs, both for its initial construction and its retail operations.
To woo Bass Pro Shops to its future location in Estuary, a retail complex near Brandon, Hillsborough County anted up $6.25 million in road improvements. Estuary will benefit by gaining a powerful anchor tenant which should help fill the rest of the complex.
"I have a very clear conscience in supporting this project," said one county commissioner. "This is about economic development at its best."
"In my 10 years on the County Commission, the county has not had an economic development opportunity that generates such an immediate return on investment," said another commissioner. Indeed, the $6.25 mil is expected to be paid back in a mere four years.
Win, win, right? Not so fast, Pollyanna. Enter now the buzz-kills.
"I have a real issue with using taxpayer dollars for a multibillion-dollar company to grow its business," said the lone dissenting commissioner. And yet he has no issue at all with spending taxpayer dollars for the multimillion-dollar boondoggle that is light rail.
"Corporate welfare!" screamed one newspaper columnist. What alarmist hyperbole! Corporate welfare is subsidizing businesses that would otherwise fail. This is corporate investment.
Several business owners also have their knickers in knots over the spending of tax dollars on a project they see as benefiting an out-of-state megachain that will compete against them for customers.
Horrors! You mean this may very well spell doom for long-time establishments such as Joe's Stinky Bait Shoppe, Billy Bob's Beef Jerky Emporium, and Leroy's Galleria of Lures and Jackknives? Can our economic system survive the extinction of such arcane Americana?
I think so. I'm more concerned about the evolution of the Hillsborough County Commission. Now that the comedy relief tag team of Ronda "Boom-Boom" Storms and Brian "Killer Bee" Blair have long since gone, the commission is a lot less fun.
But we take hope from Commissioner Les Miller. Les paid his wife $13,186 for "services rendered" as his campaign manager in 2011 and 2012, a campaign during which he ran unopposed. Is this a great country, or what?
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Profile of a Florida Legislator
As budding political dynasties go, this one is more apt to evolve into the Borgias than the Kennedys.
She is a Haitian-American and had graduated a registered nurse from a college in Port-au-Prince. She and her husband moved to Florida, and in 2002 she formed a company and became owner of several group homes for the elderly and disabled. Her facilities were less like those of "Cocoon" and more like Arkham.
Under her watch, a male patient raped a female patient who died shortly after the assault. A second patient suffered a facial cut and developed a fungus infection. She died two days after having finally been taken to hospital. A third patient choked to death on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. A fourth died after being taken to hospital with a suspected bowel obstruction. Inspectors from the Department of Elderly Affairs found rodent droppings on food shelves and dead roaches on the floors. Her employees complained of having to work 80-hour weeks.
By 2006, after just four years, the DEA had had enough. After all, nursing homes may be way stations between this world and the next, but they're supposed to ease the journey, not expedite it. The department cancelled its contract with the nurse's company.
In the meantime, her husband, who has a felony conviction for mortgage fraud, was alleged to have used the identifications of two business partners to defraud the DEA of hundreds of thousands of dollars. He is currently in bankruptcy and two of his properties are in foreclosure.
Looking for an alternate career path, the nurse, Daphne Campbell, ran for state representative from Florida's HR District 108, which comprises a large section of Miami. She was elected in 2010 and began at once slopping at the public trough.
In 2011, her 28-year-old son was charged with Medicare fraud for allegedly billing the government for $299,000 worth of services through separate group homes, services he did not provide.
Last year, her secretary was arrested for defrauding Haitian constituents of thousands of dollars by charging them fees to assist them with mortgage issues, immigration concerns, and traffic violation summonses.
First order of business for Representative Campbell in 2013? Get rid of the red-light cameras installed at intersections to shoot pictures of those running red traffic lights.
"My constituents complained and the people are hurting," she said. "I promised them when I went to Tallahassee that I would repeal the red-light cameras."
One of those constituents, perhaps the only one, was her husband, who had racked up four $158 tickets. One photo of his minivan plainly shows a Campbell campaign sticker on it. Two videos show it making reckless turns on red, one left and the other right. Representative Campbell admitted to having received a ticket herself in October, but did not know anything about the other four.
"Something is definitely wrong," she told a reporter. "You are the one who just told me about it. This is news to me."
"I don't know how she wouldn't know, unless her husband didn't tell her," said a spokesperson for American Traffic Solutions, the vendor that supplies the cameras. "Someone there knows about them because three have been paid."
Despite the video footage of the minivan blowing through red lights, she didn't believe it. "It's a lie," said Representative Campbell. "That camera is a made-up story. You can do anything with the computer now."
Is that your strategy, your ladyship? Ignorance and denial? Seriously? We are to believe you had no idea your secretary was selling access to your office to the very people who pay your salary? You had no clue that your son was ripping off taxpayers by defrauding Medicae? You deny the hard evidence of your husband's scofflaw and instead blame the technology that caught him in the act?
Good thing you're in the minority party in the Legislature. You can only take up space when you're there, and no one misses you when you're not.
She is a Haitian-American and had graduated a registered nurse from a college in Port-au-Prince. She and her husband moved to Florida, and in 2002 she formed a company and became owner of several group homes for the elderly and disabled. Her facilities were less like those of "Cocoon" and more like Arkham.
Under her watch, a male patient raped a female patient who died shortly after the assault. A second patient suffered a facial cut and developed a fungus infection. She died two days after having finally been taken to hospital. A third patient choked to death on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. A fourth died after being taken to hospital with a suspected bowel obstruction. Inspectors from the Department of Elderly Affairs found rodent droppings on food shelves and dead roaches on the floors. Her employees complained of having to work 80-hour weeks.
By 2006, after just four years, the DEA had had enough. After all, nursing homes may be way stations between this world and the next, but they're supposed to ease the journey, not expedite it. The department cancelled its contract with the nurse's company.
In the meantime, her husband, who has a felony conviction for mortgage fraud, was alleged to have used the identifications of two business partners to defraud the DEA of hundreds of thousands of dollars. He is currently in bankruptcy and two of his properties are in foreclosure.
Looking for an alternate career path, the nurse, Daphne Campbell, ran for state representative from Florida's HR District 108, which comprises a large section of Miami. She was elected in 2010 and began at once slopping at the public trough.
In 2011, her 28-year-old son was charged with Medicare fraud for allegedly billing the government for $299,000 worth of services through separate group homes, services he did not provide.
Last year, her secretary was arrested for defrauding Haitian constituents of thousands of dollars by charging them fees to assist them with mortgage issues, immigration concerns, and traffic violation summonses.
First order of business for Representative Campbell in 2013? Get rid of the red-light cameras installed at intersections to shoot pictures of those running red traffic lights.
"My constituents complained and the people are hurting," she said. "I promised them when I went to Tallahassee that I would repeal the red-light cameras."
One of those constituents, perhaps the only one, was her husband, who had racked up four $158 tickets. One photo of his minivan plainly shows a Campbell campaign sticker on it. Two videos show it making reckless turns on red, one left and the other right. Representative Campbell admitted to having received a ticket herself in October, but did not know anything about the other four.
"Something is definitely wrong," she told a reporter. "You are the one who just told me about it. This is news to me."
"I don't know how she wouldn't know, unless her husband didn't tell her," said a spokesperson for American Traffic Solutions, the vendor that supplies the cameras. "Someone there knows about them because three have been paid."
Despite the video footage of the minivan blowing through red lights, she didn't believe it. "It's a lie," said Representative Campbell. "That camera is a made-up story. You can do anything with the computer now."
Is that your strategy, your ladyship? Ignorance and denial? Seriously? We are to believe you had no idea your secretary was selling access to your office to the very people who pay your salary? You had no clue that your son was ripping off taxpayers by defrauding Medicae? You deny the hard evidence of your husband's scofflaw and instead blame the technology that caught him in the act?
Good thing you're in the minority party in the Legislature. You can only take up space when you're there, and no one misses you when you're not.
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Would You Eat This?
Years of gallivating around the planet exposed me to any number of culinary opportunities. Some were to die for; others...well, possibly to die of.
Some foods might have been good, but I just couldn't get to the point of actually biting into them. Folks who have eaten snake tell me it tastes just like chicken. My response is, fine, then I'll just have chicken. Calamari? Pass. Escargot? Pass the barf bag. Caviar? Please!
When I went through both survival and jungle survival schools I was introduced to all the grubs, insects, rodents and other skin-crawling fauna I could use to ward off starvation. I determined then that, given that menu, I was very likely going to die.
Stuff I have tried that I wish I hadn't include saimin, a raw fish and noodle dish I sampled in Hawaii. I ordered steak and kidney pie once in Edinburgh, just to see what made this one of Britain's specialty dishes. I'm still trying to figure it out. Once in the good ol' US of A I ordered anchovies on a pizza. I know, right?
During this process of tasting, or passing on, various foods, I did find some gems. Kobe steak in Thailand is one, a hunk of beef (water buffalo?) the size of a large baked potato the thought of which still makes me drool. I became addicted to Mongolian barbecue in Taiwan, where, incidently, I also enjoyed exquisite Russian soup. The best lasagna I ever had was not in Italy, but came from a brick oven at the Rummel Brewery in Darmstadt.
Of course, here at home I have my favorite foods and know just where to get them: rotisserie pulled pork sandwich piled high with deep-fried onion strings in Wisconsin at Lake Geneva's Popeye's, chicken pot pie at any Bakers Square, gyros at Seminole's Greek Village, Cuban sandwiches at Columbia's on Sand Key, Skyline chili in either Cincinnati or Clearwater, etc, etc, ad yummy.
All this is by way of intro to a "Tampa Bay Times" column by Sean Daly, wherein he describes new items available at the Florida State Fair.
* Pizza cone: Find it difficult to walk around the fairgrounds while trying to eat a sagging slice of pizza, the toppings of which are sliding off onto your shirt or the ground? No problem! Here, the pizza crust is shaped into a cone and filled with six ounces of the toppings of your choice, plus enough cheese "to feed an entire family in Wisconsin."
* Cereal chicken on a stick: Take a plank of white-meat chicen and coat it with your choice of cereals: Cap'n Crunchy, Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch, Rice Krispies or Honey Bunches of Oats. Deep fry it and, if you prefer, drizzle it with peanut butter or marshmallow. You ask me, it's a waste of good chicken. But what do I know?
* "Redneck with attitude" burger: Place a hamburger patty on a bun. Pile it high with fired bologna, potato sticks, baked beans, cheese, lettuce, tomato, onions and pickles. Daly found it "AWESOME," but seeing as how I hate fried bologna I doubt I would share his recommendation.
* Pumpkin spice funnel cake: Added to the already famous red velvet funnel cake are new flavors pumpkin spice with frosted drizzle, pecans and "frenzy of powdered sugar," and pineapple inside out.
Well, it's like Hannibal explained to the little boy just before he fed him a tidbit of FBI agent Krindler's brain: "You should try new things."
Fair enough. You first.
Some foods might have been good, but I just couldn't get to the point of actually biting into them. Folks who have eaten snake tell me it tastes just like chicken. My response is, fine, then I'll just have chicken. Calamari? Pass. Escargot? Pass the barf bag. Caviar? Please!
When I went through both survival and jungle survival schools I was introduced to all the grubs, insects, rodents and other skin-crawling fauna I could use to ward off starvation. I determined then that, given that menu, I was very likely going to die.
Stuff I have tried that I wish I hadn't include saimin, a raw fish and noodle dish I sampled in Hawaii. I ordered steak and kidney pie once in Edinburgh, just to see what made this one of Britain's specialty dishes. I'm still trying to figure it out. Once in the good ol' US of A I ordered anchovies on a pizza. I know, right?
During this process of tasting, or passing on, various foods, I did find some gems. Kobe steak in Thailand is one, a hunk of beef (water buffalo?) the size of a large baked potato the thought of which still makes me drool. I became addicted to Mongolian barbecue in Taiwan, where, incidently, I also enjoyed exquisite Russian soup. The best lasagna I ever had was not in Italy, but came from a brick oven at the Rummel Brewery in Darmstadt.
Of course, here at home I have my favorite foods and know just where to get them: rotisserie pulled pork sandwich piled high with deep-fried onion strings in Wisconsin at Lake Geneva's Popeye's, chicken pot pie at any Bakers Square, gyros at Seminole's Greek Village, Cuban sandwiches at Columbia's on Sand Key, Skyline chili in either Cincinnati or Clearwater, etc, etc, ad yummy.
All this is by way of intro to a "Tampa Bay Times" column by Sean Daly, wherein he describes new items available at the Florida State Fair.
* Pizza cone: Find it difficult to walk around the fairgrounds while trying to eat a sagging slice of pizza, the toppings of which are sliding off onto your shirt or the ground? No problem! Here, the pizza crust is shaped into a cone and filled with six ounces of the toppings of your choice, plus enough cheese "to feed an entire family in Wisconsin."
* Cereal chicken on a stick: Take a plank of white-meat chicen and coat it with your choice of cereals: Cap'n Crunchy, Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch, Rice Krispies or Honey Bunches of Oats. Deep fry it and, if you prefer, drizzle it with peanut butter or marshmallow. You ask me, it's a waste of good chicken. But what do I know?
* "Redneck with attitude" burger: Place a hamburger patty on a bun. Pile it high with fired bologna, potato sticks, baked beans, cheese, lettuce, tomato, onions and pickles. Daly found it "AWESOME," but seeing as how I hate fried bologna I doubt I would share his recommendation.
* Pumpkin spice funnel cake: Added to the already famous red velvet funnel cake are new flavors pumpkin spice with frosted drizzle, pecans and "frenzy of powdered sugar," and pineapple inside out.
Well, it's like Hannibal explained to the little boy just before he fed him a tidbit of FBI agent Krindler's brain: "You should try new things."
Fair enough. You first.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Of Guns, Entitlements and Financial Ruin
Wondrous words of wit and wisdom with which to while away a waning week....
* Gun Control: I don't have a recipe in this cook-off. I don't have a horse in this race, or a dog in this hunt. Last time I fired a weapon was on a military firing range. I carried a .38 on my hip like a gunslinger when I flew combat support missions, but I never fired one and probably would have hit everything but a target if I had. One crewmember who did was playing with it between launch and orbit when it went off. The bullet penetrated both the fuselage and a wing. Luckily, the bullet was not a tracer. But that's another story.
Those who are pushing for stricter gun control are pushing from the wrong direction. The Constitution says that the right of individuals to bear arms will not be infringed upon. Nowhere does it empower anyone to manufacture, sell, distribute or import firearms. Seems to me they should be campaigning to outlaw those activities. The only exemptions would be to fill specific orders from the military and law enforcement agencies. Eventually, even though folks could still possess guns, there would be no more guns to possess. Extend the ban to ammunition to speed the attrition process. For good measure, tack on an extra ten years to the sentences of those convicted of committing a crime while in possession of a firearm.
Mark Kelly, husband of former US Representative Gabrielle Giffords, argued before the Senate Judiciary Committee that requiring private sellers of guns to complete background checks and getting those records into the system "will prevent gun crime." Remember the Brady Bill and its seven-day wait requirement? How did that work out for Gabby, there, Major Tom?
* The World Owes Me a Living: Heather Johnson is 22 years old, unemployed, and lives with her mother in mostly upscale Bradenton, a bedroom community a few miles southeast of Tampa. If I had to guess from her picture in the paper, I'd say she weighs in at about 325. Whatever her actual weight, it is clear that she is not suffering from malnutrition.
Heather's pantyhose is in a knot because the Job Corps, to which she has applied for training so she might compete in the job market, has placed a moratorium on applications until at least July because of budget cuts. She does not seem particulary distressed.
"They can pay for my welfare and food stamps, or pay for my education so I can support myself," Heather told a reporter. Either way, somebody is going to have to pay so Heather can at least maintain, if not actually expand, her enormous girth.
Here's a tipper from your ol' Uncle Dave, Heather. How 'bout you get a job emptying bedpans and changing diapers in a nursing home or bagging groceries and stocking shelves in a supermarket, and pay for your own education? Just do yourself a favor and resist the temptation to work in the fast food industry. Okay, Precious?
* Infrastructure vs Bells and Whistles: Detroit is on the verge of bankruptcy. Its annual debt-service cost alone is $597 mil, while its three biggest sources of revenue generate only $538 mil. What's worse, its net assets, which in 2010 were worth $265 mil, now have a negative value. The only question is whether the bankruptcy will be managed politically or through a conventional Chapter 9 court process.
And yet, as I reported in last week's blog, "Light Rail Redux", Detroit is preparing to spend $140 mil on a three-mile streetcar run through its downtown. Tourists, if there actually were any, would presumably be able to enjoy a virtual tour of Beirut without ever having to leave the good ol' US of A.
Does the name "Jabberwocky" mean anything to you?
* Gun Control: I don't have a recipe in this cook-off. I don't have a horse in this race, or a dog in this hunt. Last time I fired a weapon was on a military firing range. I carried a .38 on my hip like a gunslinger when I flew combat support missions, but I never fired one and probably would have hit everything but a target if I had. One crewmember who did was playing with it between launch and orbit when it went off. The bullet penetrated both the fuselage and a wing. Luckily, the bullet was not a tracer. But that's another story.
Those who are pushing for stricter gun control are pushing from the wrong direction. The Constitution says that the right of individuals to bear arms will not be infringed upon. Nowhere does it empower anyone to manufacture, sell, distribute or import firearms. Seems to me they should be campaigning to outlaw those activities. The only exemptions would be to fill specific orders from the military and law enforcement agencies. Eventually, even though folks could still possess guns, there would be no more guns to possess. Extend the ban to ammunition to speed the attrition process. For good measure, tack on an extra ten years to the sentences of those convicted of committing a crime while in possession of a firearm.
Mark Kelly, husband of former US Representative Gabrielle Giffords, argued before the Senate Judiciary Committee that requiring private sellers of guns to complete background checks and getting those records into the system "will prevent gun crime." Remember the Brady Bill and its seven-day wait requirement? How did that work out for Gabby, there, Major Tom?
* The World Owes Me a Living: Heather Johnson is 22 years old, unemployed, and lives with her mother in mostly upscale Bradenton, a bedroom community a few miles southeast of Tampa. If I had to guess from her picture in the paper, I'd say she weighs in at about 325. Whatever her actual weight, it is clear that she is not suffering from malnutrition.
Heather's pantyhose is in a knot because the Job Corps, to which she has applied for training so she might compete in the job market, has placed a moratorium on applications until at least July because of budget cuts. She does not seem particulary distressed.
"They can pay for my welfare and food stamps, or pay for my education so I can support myself," Heather told a reporter. Either way, somebody is going to have to pay so Heather can at least maintain, if not actually expand, her enormous girth.
Here's a tipper from your ol' Uncle Dave, Heather. How 'bout you get a job emptying bedpans and changing diapers in a nursing home or bagging groceries and stocking shelves in a supermarket, and pay for your own education? Just do yourself a favor and resist the temptation to work in the fast food industry. Okay, Precious?
* Infrastructure vs Bells and Whistles: Detroit is on the verge of bankruptcy. Its annual debt-service cost alone is $597 mil, while its three biggest sources of revenue generate only $538 mil. What's worse, its net assets, which in 2010 were worth $265 mil, now have a negative value. The only question is whether the bankruptcy will be managed politically or through a conventional Chapter 9 court process.
And yet, as I reported in last week's blog, "Light Rail Redux", Detroit is preparing to spend $140 mil on a three-mile streetcar run through its downtown. Tourists, if there actually were any, would presumably be able to enjoy a virtual tour of Beirut without ever having to leave the good ol' US of A.
Does the name "Jabberwocky" mean anything to you?
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Light Rail Redux
One of the most disingenuous op-ed pieces I have ever read was published in the January 22, 2013, edition of the "Tampa Bay Times". "It has been decades since Detroit was seen as a forward-looking urban community instead of an inner-city wasteland racked by crime, vacant buildings and government debt," it begins. "But the federal government last week put the finishing touches on what will soon be a 3-mile light rail system through the heart of downtown. [I]t should stand as an example for how Tampa Bay could get its act together on transportation."
Any comparison of the Tampa Bay metroplex with Detroit is ludicrous on its face. If you were to contain a graph comparing crime rates on a single page, you would need a magnifying glass to find Tampa's while Detroit's would spill over the edge. Detroit's downtown looks like Gotham's after Bane got through with it; Tampa's is vibrant and safe.
Detroit doesn't need light rail; it needs a fleet of bulldozers.
But Detroit isn't building a light rail system, anyway. It nixed a nine-mile line two years ago. Instead, it's building a three-mile streetcar run, the projected cost of which will be $140 million. You and I both know the final cost will be much more than that. It'll be months and possibly years behind schedule; the maintenance fees will be exorbitant, and hardly anyone will ride it.
How do we know this? Tampa already has a streetcar run. It originates in a part of town where the only foot traffic consists of folks walking from parking facilities to their offices. It passes by a second-rate aquarium, a failed complex of shops and restaurants, a couple of cruise ship ports, and dead-ends at Ybor City. Its only riders are the occasional handful of tourists who are attracted by its novelty.
Soon after it was built it was declared a white elephant. The sentiment was to halt its runs and rip up the track, but no one wanted to spend the money to do it. The city then tried to sell it, but private companies are in the business of making money, not flushing it down the toilet. It continues to operate largely on handouts from the kindness of those with too much money and no clue as to what to do with it.
Now Pinellas County wants to put a referendum on the ballot to see if there is public support for a 26-mile line from Clearwater to St Petersburg. Thanks to the Sunshine and open records laws, I was able to obtain a transcript of the county commissioners' discussion of the issue.
"Okay, who wants light rail?"
"I do! I do! I love choo-choos!"
"But who's gonna ride on it? Can't make anybody ride it."
"Don't have to make them ride it; you just have to make them want to."
"How do we do that?"
"Easy. Reduce the number of parking slots by at least half. Do away with one-way streets and timed traffic lights. Cause auto gridlock so bad that folks will beg to ride it."
"How we gonna pay for it?"
"We'll jack up the sales tax from seven to eight percent. The rest we can get from the feds."
"That's like double taxation. Ain't nobody gonna buy into that, not in this economy."
"I will! I will! I want my choo-choo!"
We've had this discussion before. We've taken votes on light rail before, and it has always been voted down. But like shingles, just when you think you have it beaten once and for all, it flares up again to fester and annoy.
Here's some good advice, commissioners. You want to play with trains? Go to a hobby shop and buy a Lionel set and an engineer's hat. Okay, Casey Jones?
Any comparison of the Tampa Bay metroplex with Detroit is ludicrous on its face. If you were to contain a graph comparing crime rates on a single page, you would need a magnifying glass to find Tampa's while Detroit's would spill over the edge. Detroit's downtown looks like Gotham's after Bane got through with it; Tampa's is vibrant and safe.
Detroit doesn't need light rail; it needs a fleet of bulldozers.
But Detroit isn't building a light rail system, anyway. It nixed a nine-mile line two years ago. Instead, it's building a three-mile streetcar run, the projected cost of which will be $140 million. You and I both know the final cost will be much more than that. It'll be months and possibly years behind schedule; the maintenance fees will be exorbitant, and hardly anyone will ride it.
How do we know this? Tampa already has a streetcar run. It originates in a part of town where the only foot traffic consists of folks walking from parking facilities to their offices. It passes by a second-rate aquarium, a failed complex of shops and restaurants, a couple of cruise ship ports, and dead-ends at Ybor City. Its only riders are the occasional handful of tourists who are attracted by its novelty.
Soon after it was built it was declared a white elephant. The sentiment was to halt its runs and rip up the track, but no one wanted to spend the money to do it. The city then tried to sell it, but private companies are in the business of making money, not flushing it down the toilet. It continues to operate largely on handouts from the kindness of those with too much money and no clue as to what to do with it.
Now Pinellas County wants to put a referendum on the ballot to see if there is public support for a 26-mile line from Clearwater to St Petersburg. Thanks to the Sunshine and open records laws, I was able to obtain a transcript of the county commissioners' discussion of the issue.
"Okay, who wants light rail?"
"I do! I do! I love choo-choos!"
"But who's gonna ride on it? Can't make anybody ride it."
"Don't have to make them ride it; you just have to make them want to."
"How do we do that?"
"Easy. Reduce the number of parking slots by at least half. Do away with one-way streets and timed traffic lights. Cause auto gridlock so bad that folks will beg to ride it."
"How we gonna pay for it?"
"We'll jack up the sales tax from seven to eight percent. The rest we can get from the feds."
"That's like double taxation. Ain't nobody gonna buy into that, not in this economy."
"I will! I will! I want my choo-choo!"
We've had this discussion before. We've taken votes on light rail before, and it has always been voted down. But like shingles, just when you think you have it beaten once and for all, it flares up again to fester and annoy.
Here's some good advice, commissioners. You want to play with trains? Go to a hobby shop and buy a Lionel set and an engineer's hat. Okay, Casey Jones?
Saturday, January 19, 2013
The Only Good Terrorist...
Michael Kinsley, columnist and talking head, has written a piece so idiotic one must assume that his DRD4 gene has, like the DNA of the teleported fly did with Seth Brundle, completely corrupted and incapacitated his rationality. Mikey is appalled--appalled, do you hear--that the US is launching drones against terrorists. Perhaps you may find reason in his rant. I readily confess it is well beyond my mortal ken.
Mikey begins by instructing us on military history. "[M]ore civilians died in World War II, of various causes, than did soldiers," he quotes one historian. "That was not true of World War I or most earlier conflicts."
No doubt that WWII was especially hard on civilians, particularly those in Germany and Jpapn, and especially when you add in the six or so million Jews killed in the Holocaust. Some have argued that the hundreds of thousands of lives lost in the nuking of Japan saved the millions of lives that would have been lost to starvation, had we simply blockaded the country. Understand--we did not nuke Japan to save Japanese lives; we nuked Japan to end the war before those pesky Ruskies could overrun all of Korea. But that's another story. In the end, the civilians in both countries were enablers of their governments' war-mongering aggression, either by fully buying into their madness or simply acquiescing to it. The resulting devastation was the price they paid; no tears of sympathy from me.
Earlier wars, like earlier football contests, were ground games which "used to be conducted on battlefields, between soldiers in uniforms lined up in rows, bayonets at the ready. People famously took picnic baskets to watch the first battle of Manassas...," an event, one supposes, that may have marked the country's first tailgate party. Air power, with its indiscriminate saturation or carpet bombing, brought war directly and massively to the general population. The introduction and proliferation of nuclear weapons gave the world deterence.
Today, Mikey laments, vastly improved capability has restored impetus. He points out that drones "can aim at and hit a target with enormous precision." While most would perceive this as a good thing, because "no American lives are put at risk, and the precision minimizes collateral damage...," Mikey argues that it is actually bad, because when you have the ability to strike at an enemy with zero risk to your own people, you are more likely to do so.
A valid point, no doubt. But let's project Mikey's logic to its unstated but inevitable conclusion. What really has his pinkish tutu riding up in his nether orifice is that it just isn't fair that we, who have drone technology, can whack some terriorst towel-head at will and not suffer consequences. Never mind that our enemy is not above hijacking our airliners and driving them into buildings. Never mind that they welcome their own deaths as martyrdom.
Moreover, he argues, drones "highlight a terrible anomaly of civil libertarian societies: the contrast between how we treat killing--state sponsored killing--in battle, and how we treat killing in civilian life. There are no Miranda warnings in the trenches," he philosophizes.
Concepts such as the Miranda right don't compute with terrorists. They can't even spell "Miranda," Mikey, let alone understand what it is.
Here's the thing. We cannot apply societal norms to those who live outside society. Terrorists do not differentiate between soldiers and civilians; we are all infidels and must therefore die. We will never defeat them at their game by adhering to self-imposed, unilateral rules. "Civilized war" is oxymoronic on its face. Civilized war against the uncivilized is simply moronic.
But you would have us play nice with these wild-eyed violators of hemorrhoidal goats, wouldn't you, Mikey? You want us to put ourselves in the line of fire so that the terrorists we target will have an equal chance of taking us out.
Now really. Isn't that taking your egalitarianism nonsense just a little too far?
Mikey begins by instructing us on military history. "[M]ore civilians died in World War II, of various causes, than did soldiers," he quotes one historian. "That was not true of World War I or most earlier conflicts."
No doubt that WWII was especially hard on civilians, particularly those in Germany and Jpapn, and especially when you add in the six or so million Jews killed in the Holocaust. Some have argued that the hundreds of thousands of lives lost in the nuking of Japan saved the millions of lives that would have been lost to starvation, had we simply blockaded the country. Understand--we did not nuke Japan to save Japanese lives; we nuked Japan to end the war before those pesky Ruskies could overrun all of Korea. But that's another story. In the end, the civilians in both countries were enablers of their governments' war-mongering aggression, either by fully buying into their madness or simply acquiescing to it. The resulting devastation was the price they paid; no tears of sympathy from me.
Earlier wars, like earlier football contests, were ground games which "used to be conducted on battlefields, between soldiers in uniforms lined up in rows, bayonets at the ready. People famously took picnic baskets to watch the first battle of Manassas...," an event, one supposes, that may have marked the country's first tailgate party. Air power, with its indiscriminate saturation or carpet bombing, brought war directly and massively to the general population. The introduction and proliferation of nuclear weapons gave the world deterence.
Today, Mikey laments, vastly improved capability has restored impetus. He points out that drones "can aim at and hit a target with enormous precision." While most would perceive this as a good thing, because "no American lives are put at risk, and the precision minimizes collateral damage...," Mikey argues that it is actually bad, because when you have the ability to strike at an enemy with zero risk to your own people, you are more likely to do so.
A valid point, no doubt. But let's project Mikey's logic to its unstated but inevitable conclusion. What really has his pinkish tutu riding up in his nether orifice is that it just isn't fair that we, who have drone technology, can whack some terriorst towel-head at will and not suffer consequences. Never mind that our enemy is not above hijacking our airliners and driving them into buildings. Never mind that they welcome their own deaths as martyrdom.
Moreover, he argues, drones "highlight a terrible anomaly of civil libertarian societies: the contrast between how we treat killing--state sponsored killing--in battle, and how we treat killing in civilian life. There are no Miranda warnings in the trenches," he philosophizes.
Concepts such as the Miranda right don't compute with terrorists. They can't even spell "Miranda," Mikey, let alone understand what it is.
Here's the thing. We cannot apply societal norms to those who live outside society. Terrorists do not differentiate between soldiers and civilians; we are all infidels and must therefore die. We will never defeat them at their game by adhering to self-imposed, unilateral rules. "Civilized war" is oxymoronic on its face. Civilized war against the uncivilized is simply moronic.
But you would have us play nice with these wild-eyed violators of hemorrhoidal goats, wouldn't you, Mikey? You want us to put ourselves in the line of fire so that the terrorists we target will have an equal chance of taking us out.
Now really. Isn't that taking your egalitarianism nonsense just a little too far?
Saturday, January 12, 2013
A Rose By Any Other Name
Some bad things, concepts, and, yes, people, just won't die. Like shingles, as soon as you think you've gotten rid of them they flare up to fester and annoy.
Political correctness, scourge of the '90s, is just such a pestilence. Remember when garbage collectors became waste managers and janitors became sanitation engineers? When "negro" became "person of color," then "black," then "African-American?" When "deaf" became "hearing impaired," "blind" became "visually challenged," and "fat" became "full figured?"
PCness was particularly idiotic in public schools, where teachers became afraid to say or do anything that might offend someone's sense of self. They couldn't fail anyone lest they stigmatize a student as a failure. Hence the "F" grade became a "U." "A" grades implied elitism, so they set about leveling the grade curve. Instead of sending those who had mastered one block of instruction on to the next, they were held back to help others who had fallen behind. Better everyone get a "C" than some an "A" and others a "U." Developmentally disabled students were mainstreamed to foster an illusion of normalcy, doing grave disservice to teachers, regular students, and, ironically, themselves.
PCness also infected sports. Not wanting to exalt winners by labeling losers, a movement was begun to eliminate scores in kiddie games. Participation trophies were presented to all who, well, participated, because it just wasn't fair that some kids might get one while others didn't. For a long time in college football games, the names of players committing penalties were not announced, just their numbers. And if an award was made in the name of a player on a winning team, one also had to be made in the name of one on the losing team.
PCness insanity even resulted in mascot name changes, largely due to the mad scramble to suck up to the American Indian Movement. AIM was formed in Minnesota in 1968 by 200 Indians. In 1972, an AIM-organized "Trail of Tears March on Washington, DC" was held. 500 showed up. I don't have the exact 1972 American Indian population, but it was between six and ten million. You figure the percentage.
Nevertheless, AIM purported to speak for all American Indians. Liberal institutions of higher learning fell all over themselves in the stampede to satisfy AIM's demands that those with Indian-related nicknames change them forthwith. As one result, the Marquette Warriors became the Golden Eagles. My own high school, whose nickname was "Indians," replaced its proud Indianhead logo with a "C" (for Carlisle) and adorned it with a few scraggly chicken feathers. With a rare display of sanity, Florida State University, whose nickname is "Seminoles," retained the name after the Seminole tribe proclaimed its pride in it and told AIM to kiss off.
That was all decades ago. You'd think by now PCism is a dead issue. Well, you'd be wrong, horse blanket-breath.
The NFL's Washington Redskins, a team that has been around decades longer than either AIM or PCism, plays its games in Landover, Maryland. Its practice field and headquarters are in Ashburn, Virginia. Apparently there is talk of the team moving into DC proper.
"Not so fast," said DC mayor Vincent C. Gray. "They want to move here, they gonna have to change that name. Can't be upsetting no 500 or whatever Indians, no sir."
What should we call them, then, Mayor Munchkin? I know, something that reflects DC. How 'bout the Washington Felons, in recognition of your crime rate? Or perhaps the Washington Hucksters, in homage to all the politicians you harbor?
What's next? For sure we gotta rename the Packers. See, the Packers were named after a meat-packing plant, which has to be offensive to both vegans and animal rights whackos. Maybe the Green Bay Lemmings? They do play on frozen tundra, after all. And what about the 49ers? Can't have a team named after gold-digging capitalists hell-bent on destroying the environment, can we? The San Francisco Poufs certainly would be an appropriate option, don't you think?
Or, better yet, what say we all just get over ourselves?
Political correctness, scourge of the '90s, is just such a pestilence. Remember when garbage collectors became waste managers and janitors became sanitation engineers? When "negro" became "person of color," then "black," then "African-American?" When "deaf" became "hearing impaired," "blind" became "visually challenged," and "fat" became "full figured?"
PCness was particularly idiotic in public schools, where teachers became afraid to say or do anything that might offend someone's sense of self. They couldn't fail anyone lest they stigmatize a student as a failure. Hence the "F" grade became a "U." "A" grades implied elitism, so they set about leveling the grade curve. Instead of sending those who had mastered one block of instruction on to the next, they were held back to help others who had fallen behind. Better everyone get a "C" than some an "A" and others a "U." Developmentally disabled students were mainstreamed to foster an illusion of normalcy, doing grave disservice to teachers, regular students, and, ironically, themselves.
PCness also infected sports. Not wanting to exalt winners by labeling losers, a movement was begun to eliminate scores in kiddie games. Participation trophies were presented to all who, well, participated, because it just wasn't fair that some kids might get one while others didn't. For a long time in college football games, the names of players committing penalties were not announced, just their numbers. And if an award was made in the name of a player on a winning team, one also had to be made in the name of one on the losing team.
PCness insanity even resulted in mascot name changes, largely due to the mad scramble to suck up to the American Indian Movement. AIM was formed in Minnesota in 1968 by 200 Indians. In 1972, an AIM-organized "Trail of Tears March on Washington, DC" was held. 500 showed up. I don't have the exact 1972 American Indian population, but it was between six and ten million. You figure the percentage.
Nevertheless, AIM purported to speak for all American Indians. Liberal institutions of higher learning fell all over themselves in the stampede to satisfy AIM's demands that those with Indian-related nicknames change them forthwith. As one result, the Marquette Warriors became the Golden Eagles. My own high school, whose nickname was "Indians," replaced its proud Indianhead logo with a "C" (for Carlisle) and adorned it with a few scraggly chicken feathers. With a rare display of sanity, Florida State University, whose nickname is "Seminoles," retained the name after the Seminole tribe proclaimed its pride in it and told AIM to kiss off.
That was all decades ago. You'd think by now PCism is a dead issue. Well, you'd be wrong, horse blanket-breath.
The NFL's Washington Redskins, a team that has been around decades longer than either AIM or PCism, plays its games in Landover, Maryland. Its practice field and headquarters are in Ashburn, Virginia. Apparently there is talk of the team moving into DC proper.
"Not so fast," said DC mayor Vincent C. Gray. "They want to move here, they gonna have to change that name. Can't be upsetting no 500 or whatever Indians, no sir."
What should we call them, then, Mayor Munchkin? I know, something that reflects DC. How 'bout the Washington Felons, in recognition of your crime rate? Or perhaps the Washington Hucksters, in homage to all the politicians you harbor?
What's next? For sure we gotta rename the Packers. See, the Packers were named after a meat-packing plant, which has to be offensive to both vegans and animal rights whackos. Maybe the Green Bay Lemmings? They do play on frozen tundra, after all. And what about the 49ers? Can't have a team named after gold-digging capitalists hell-bent on destroying the environment, can we? The San Francisco Poufs certainly would be an appropriate option, don't you think?
Or, better yet, what say we all just get over ourselves?
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