Saturday, June 18, 2016
Friday, June 17, 2016
AMERICAN DIGEST: Comment on Against Compassion
AMERICAN DIGEST: Comment on Against Compassion: Jesus fed the hungry, and even more powerfully healed the lame and blind, and most importantly gave all, that poor beggars such as we might find salvation.
I don't have a lot. I give what I can as the spirit moves me. When I do, it brings me closer to the Lord, because I know that nothing of this physical existence matters. Only the spiritual will remain in the end, and I need to spread all the love that I can. If some poor soul tricks me, well the sin is his not mine, and his is a poor soul indeed. I'm richer, because I still get to keep the love I shared.
I don't have a lot. I give what I can as the spirit moves me. When I do, it brings me closer to the Lord, because I know that nothing of this physical existence matters. Only the spiritual will remain in the end, and I need to spread all the love that I can. If some poor soul tricks me, well the sin is his not mine, and his is a poor soul indeed. I'm richer, because I still get to keep the love I shared.
AMERICAN DIGEST: Comment on Against Compassion
AMERICAN DIGEST: Comment on Against Compassion: Out here in the urban jungle of Jakarta
Out here in the urban jungle of Jakarta, it's easy to find all the
beggars you could want, some of them as young as 5. Women with babies,
too, as well as the occasional amputee or street singer. You can give
them quartas (about 2500 rupiah) if that makes you feel good and salves
your conscience. Problem is, the kids and women and amputees will only
see a small fraction of the money. Look more closely at the major
intersections and traffic circles where the beggars congregate. See
him? No, over there, sitting next to the motorcycle taxi stand. Yeah,
him, the tough-looking guy keeping a close eye on the action. That's
the beggars' "handler", who works for the local "preman" or godfather.
That's the organized crime boss who runs groups of beggars (who really
are poor) to increase his own bottom line. He'll also do really
despicable things like take babies from their mothers and give them to
other women to hold while begging, to increase the sympathy factor.
Sometimes, these women will pinch the kids--hard--in order to make them
cry and generate even more sympathy. In return, the street kids and the
rest get enough food and money to survive, barely. Westerners are
viewed as particularly attractive targets, because we're all "rich",
suckers for suffering kids, and most don't know how the system works.
But what some other long-term residents and I have started to do is to
carry around some local snacks that we can give out when caught at some
of the interminable traffic lights (and traffic jams) they have around
here. The snacks are fairly nutritious, the women and kids like them,
and, unlike money, they're worthless to the thugs. That's life in the
big city out here.
Posted by waltj at August 27, 2009 8:35 AM
beggars you could want, some of them as young as 5. Women with babies,
too, as well as the occasional amputee or street singer. You can give
them quartas (about 2500 rupiah) if that makes you feel good and salves
your conscience. Problem is, the kids and women and amputees will only
see a small fraction of the money. Look more closely at the major
intersections and traffic circles where the beggars congregate. See
him? No, over there, sitting next to the motorcycle taxi stand. Yeah,
him, the tough-looking guy keeping a close eye on the action. That's
the beggars' "handler", who works for the local "preman" or godfather.
That's the organized crime boss who runs groups of beggars (who really
are poor) to increase his own bottom line. He'll also do really
despicable things like take babies from their mothers and give them to
other women to hold while begging, to increase the sympathy factor.
Sometimes, these women will pinch the kids--hard--in order to make them
cry and generate even more sympathy. In return, the street kids and the
rest get enough food and money to survive, barely. Westerners are
viewed as particularly attractive targets, because we're all "rich",
suckers for suffering kids, and most don't know how the system works.
But what some other long-term residents and I have started to do is to
carry around some local snacks that we can give out when caught at some
of the interminable traffic lights (and traffic jams) they have around
here. The snacks are fairly nutritious, the women and kids like them,
and, unlike money, they're worthless to the thugs. That's life in the
big city out here.
Posted by waltj at August 27, 2009 8:35 AM
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
Hillary Clinton: I sparred with Muhammad Ali — The Dandy Goat
Hillary Clinton: I sparred with Muhammad Ali — The Dandy Goat
Presumptive
Democratic presidential candidate Hillary Clinton has paid tribute to
boxing legend Muhammad Ali, recalling how she sparred with the
three-time world champion in the early 1970s.
“I remember back in 1970 when the
Nixon administration had banned him from boxing. I would often spar with
him to keep him fresh, you know, keep him on his toes,” Clinton
recalled.
And that wasn’t the only Clinton family connection to the man known as “The Greatest” to fans around the world.
“My daughter Chelsea was an au pair to his children at the same time. They used to call her mammy,” said Clinton.
“I remember the day Martin Luther
King, Jr. was shot. I was eating fried chicken and watermelon with
Muhammad’s mother. She wept uncontrollably into my shoulder. I still
have that tear-stained dress.”
“And I just remembered that my middle
name is Muhammad and that name was actually given to me by my parents
in homage to Mr. Ali,” Clinton went on.
“After all, what nobler calling could
an African-American have than to beat the crap out of another
African-American for the amusement of white people, giving
themselves permanent brain damage,” said Clinton.
“Another thing I just remembered,”
said Clinton, “is that on 9/11 when I went into the South Tower to
rescue Chelsea, Muhammad was there with me, and he took my hand and led
me up those 398 floors.”
Clinton continued: “Muhammad, if he
could have spoken coherently in the last few years of his life, would
have said, ’You run girl.’ And you know what? That hot sauce I keep in
my purse? It’s Muhammed Ali’s own recipe that I created with him when we
were lovers.”
PresumptiveDemocratic presidential candidate Hillary Clinton has paid tribute to
boxing legend Muhammad Ali, recalling how she sparred with the
three-time world champion in the early 1970s.
“I remember back in 1970 when the
Nixon administration had banned him from boxing. I would often spar with
him to keep him fresh, you know, keep him on his toes,” Clinton
recalled.
And that wasn’t the only Clinton family connection to the man known as “The Greatest” to fans around the world.
“My daughter Chelsea was an au pair to his children at the same time. They used to call her mammy,” said Clinton.
“I remember the day Martin Luther
King, Jr. was shot. I was eating fried chicken and watermelon with
Muhammad’s mother. She wept uncontrollably into my shoulder. I still
have that tear-stained dress.”
“And I just remembered that my middle
name is Muhammad and that name was actually given to me by my parents
in homage to Mr. Ali,” Clinton went on.
“After all, what nobler calling could
an African-American have than to beat the crap out of another
African-American for the amusement of white people, giving
themselves permanent brain damage,” said Clinton.
“Another thing I just remembered,”
said Clinton, “is that on 9/11 when I went into the South Tower to
rescue Chelsea, Muhammad was there with me, and he took my hand and led
me up those 398 floors.”
Clinton continued: “Muhammad, if he
could have spoken coherently in the last few years of his life, would
have said, ’You run girl.’ And you know what? That hot sauce I keep in
my purse? It’s Muhammed Ali’s own recipe that I created with him when we
were lovers.”
Curmudgeonly & Skeptical presents Boned Jello
Curmudgeonly & Skeptical presents Boned Jello: This particularly resonates with me because my wife, over years of working as an RN in Hospice, Critical Care, and surgical wards, witnessed quite a few incidents along these lines. Some are still so terrifying that she has difficuly relating them; i.e. One of her patients, a nice man, near death, suddenly jumped out of his bed. The look on his face was hideous, and he "hissed," then made nightmarish guttural noises before throwing his arms in the air, swatting away, yelling "OKAY I'M COMING!" And dropped dead.
Curmudgeonly & Skeptical presents Boned Jello
Curmudgeonly & Skeptical presents Boned Jello: why not ban illicit drugs, then there would be no more drug problems.
AMERICAN DIGEST: Comment on What Pisses Me Off About The Orlando Terrorist Attack
AMERICAN DIGEST: Comment on What Pisses Me Off About The Orlando Terrorist Attack:
One article indicates that this perp was super vetted and licensed to use firearms by the State of Florida. If the politicians got their ultimate firearms confiscation wet dream, this guy, who worked under a DHS contract, would still be armed.
Furthermore, his coworker quit because of the toxic work environment caused by his constant mouthing off about potentially killing all blacks. The company refused to discipline the very important Muslim employee.
Now, I don't know about you, but I am incredulous that this nut could kill, with small arms, 50 victims, and wound about the same number, all by himself. That is almost a miracle. The USMC will be studying this event for practical reasons for decades to come. I see now that he might have somehow missed or wounded the door guard, then had three hours of freedom to slaughter his victims before the SWAT team arrived. He got so bored with killing, he called 911 to make sure his motives were recorded.
One article indicates that this perp was super vetted and licensed to use firearms by the State of Florida. If the politicians got their ultimate firearms confiscation wet dream, this guy, who worked under a DHS contract, would still be armed.
Furthermore, his coworker quit because of the toxic work environment caused by his constant mouthing off about potentially killing all blacks. The company refused to discipline the very important Muslim employee.
Now, I don't know about you, but I am incredulous that this nut could kill, with small arms, 50 victims, and wound about the same number, all by himself. That is almost a miracle. The USMC will be studying this event for practical reasons for decades to come. I see now that he might have somehow missed or wounded the door guard, then had three hours of freedom to slaughter his victims before the SWAT team arrived. He got so bored with killing, he called 911 to make sure his motives were recorded.
AMERICAN DIGEST Essays, News, Notes, and Quotes
AMERICAN DIGEST Essays, News, Notes, and Quotes:
Walt Whitman:
To The States, or any one of
them, or any city of The
States, Resist much, Obey
little,
Once unquestioning obedience,
once fully enslaved,
Once fully enslaved, no nation,
race, city, of this earth,
ever afterward resumes
its liberty.—
Walt Whitman:
To The States, or any one of
them, or any city of The
States, Resist much, Obey
little,
Once unquestioning obedience,
once fully enslaved,
Once fully enslaved, no nation,
race, city, of this earth,
ever afterward resumes
its liberty.—
Monday, June 13, 2016
Saturday, June 11, 2016
Joke Humor
Curmudgeonly & Skeptical presents Boned Jello: their two five-year-old boys were getting acquainted.
"My name is Joshua. What is yours?" asked the first boy.
"Adam," replied the second.
"My daddy is a doctor. What does your daddy do for a living?" asked Joshua.
Adam proudly replied, "My daddy is a lawyer."
"Honest??" asked Joshua.
"No, just the regular kind." replied Adam.
"My name is Joshua. What is yours?" asked the first boy.
"Adam," replied the second.
"My daddy is a doctor. What does your daddy do for a living?" asked Joshua.
Adam proudly replied, "My daddy is a lawyer."
"Honest??" asked Joshua.
"No, just the regular kind." replied Adam.
Monday, June 06, 2016
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Up the street from my apartment, at the intersection of my small street
with the main road, there sat an old beggar with a long white beard and
longer white hair. Every day, monsoon or blazing sun, he was there. I
would pass him every day averting my eyes. He was just one more of
many.
One day, my cook came to me horrified--"you must come right now with
me--and bring money." She dragged me down the block first to the
coconut salesman, then to the center of the crossroad (to break the
coconut, of course), and then to the foot of the beggar.
"He's a good man," she said. "He just does not know. I will teach him. Please forgive him."
Meanwhile, a crowd had gathered about. They were apparently most
interested in the transaction and seemed to approve of what my cook was
saying.
She then instructed me to empty my pockets, including the bedes, in
front of the beggar, to the wholehearted approval of the audience, and
then she dragged me from the corner.
"The beggar chats everyday about the welfare of everyone on HIS
block. He knows who gives, who does not give, and who should give but
doesn't. For a while now, he has been saying that you could give at
least a few paisa or an orange. He is YOUR beggar. Do not neglect him
in the future."
I give something to them all everyday. Before Shabbat, I also give some oranges. Make no mistake--God listens to their cries.
Posted by Daniel Jackson at June 10, 2010 2:49 AM