Yesterday, I stopped by the grocery store and picked up a squirt bottle of ketchup. Del Monte ketchup. It was only a buck, on sale. But I must say that when I got it home, I was very impressed. In fact, what I found filled me with abiding hope. Behold.
My little bottle of squirtable tomato stuff is going to be around long after the United States has passed into obscure and debatable history. If I don’t propel it onto my al dente new potatoes, it will outlive our progeny to about 40 generations. A thousand years from now – April 3008 – when the marbles of Capitol Hill and Wall street have been cannibalized for a giant Wal*Mart, the likes of which we can hardly imagine, my ketchup will live on. I’m not so sure about me.
Author Archives: Kyle Kimberlin
sage advice
[a joke I received by e-mail today]
It is the night after the state of the union speech. The Senate Foreign Relations Committee has passed a resolution amounting to no confidence in the war plans of the president. George W. Bush is tossing restlessly in his White House bed, where suddenly he sees the ghost of George Washington appear.
Bush says to him, “George, I need some help, I feel so hopeless and everyone hates me. What’s the best thing I can do to help the country?”
“Don’t be led by dishonest people. Set a strong, honest and honorable example, just as I did, There is always hope for change,” Washington advises, and then fades away.
An hour later, Bush is astir again, and sees the ghost of Thomas Jefferson moving through the darkened bedroom. Bush calls out, “Tom, please! What is the best thing I can do to help the country?”
“Show respect for the constitution. There is always hope, ” Jefferson advises, and fades from sight.
Sleep is still not possible for Bush. He awakens to see the ghost of FDR hovering over his bed. Bush whispers, “Franklin, What is the best thing I can do to help the country?”
“Forget your rich friends and start helping the less fortunate, just as I did. There is always hope.” FDR then fades into a mist.
Bush still isn’t sleeping well, worrying about his dropping numbers, when he sees a fourth figure moving in the shadows. It is the ghost of Abraham Lincoln. Bush pleads, “Abe, what is the best thing I can do right now to help the people of the United States?”
Lincoln replies, “Go see a play.”
we’re not convinced
Sorry, Mr. Bush, but it appears that your pleading may have fallen on deaf ears last night.
Oh pawleeze let me keep my little war. It’s not a big big war, but it’s so important and it’s the only one I’ve got, mostly. I’ll cure aids and fix Darfur and give health insurance, sort of, to the tattered remnants of the middle class. Just please please please don’t cancel my war.
But in the cold light of day, the applause has faded, and the Senate is considering doing just that.
Aw shucks, y’all are just no fun anymore.
party?
In a couple of weeks, I’m going to roll over 1500 posts on this blog since about the time the war started in 2003. Are you guys going to throw me a party? Wait, I don’t want to know. Let it be a surprise!
Speaking of the war, I’m aware that I didn’t mention it in my cursory assessment of the SOTU speech. I didn’t forget, I’m just leaving it to the bloggers more qualified to untangle that twisted morass. I keep getting the earbuds of my iPod in a knot. A man’s gotta know his limitations.
orange you
glad you opened this blog? . And I’ve just been sitting here sitting about the philosophy of shared moral intuitions – normative ethics – and I just might decide to impart my thoughts. Or not. I don’t feel like I necessarily ought to. You know what I mean?
I picked an orange from the tree in my parents’ back yard this afternoon, and just a little while ago I ate it. It was good.
You never know about an orange. You bite into it, it might be sweet or bitter. But I peeled this one, broke it open and stuffed a big chunk in my mouth, because I trust an orange to be the best it can be; to be sincere, without deception. An orange does not have a nefarious hidden agenda. It might make up pucker up, but it won’t get you killed for no good reason. I trusted that orange more than I trust the good intentions of President Bush tonight.
Yeah, I watched the speech. Couldn’t help myself. And he said some good things. He wants to make things better for the people. But I don’t trust him. He’ll mandate progressive programs, maybe, but he won’t fund them. And that tax break for health insurance thing is a sick joke. What about the millions of people who can’t take advantage of a tax break because they don’t make enough to pay taxes in the first place, let alone pay for insurance. What about the poor and the working poor? No, I don’t trust him. And more’s the pity.
Tzu-kung asked, What is leadership?
The Master said: “Food enough, troops enough, and a trusting people.”
Tzu-kung said: “Were there no help for it, which could best be spared of the three?’
“Troops,” said the Master.
“And were there no help for it, which could better be spared of the other two?”
“Food,” said the Master. “From of old all men die, but without trust a people cannot stand.”
countdown to duh day
Just half an hour now until President Bush climbs the steps to the podium and — since he always takes all the rope he needs, he will hang himself again. Metaphorically speaking. It’s been the season for such, hasn’t it? The unstrung puppets of power, slowly and squeakily twisting in the wind. It’s appalling, embarrassing. I’ll read about it later, but I shall not watch. I know where the forks are kept here, and I fear that if I watched, I’d soon be driven to jab one in my eyes to save my sanity.
lettin this deal go down
I have a rhetorical question: who in the wide wide world of sports is sitting out there watching the professional poker tour on the Travel Channel? Whose life is sure to be so long, and his nights so deeply steeped in oblivion, that he’s willingly watching some self-absorbed asshats doing nothing but playing cards?
And what in the wide world of travel does poker have to do with the Travel Channel anyway?
There is a reason why people don’t watch chess on TV, and there’s a reason why people do watch poker on TV. And I submit the difference is precisely the difference between people who like chess and those who like poker. And if you find that observation offensive, then Bingo! … No! For Pete’s sake don’t start showing bingo on TV too.
costly day
I need to update the count for the day. Twenty. 20.
Twenty little brothers – maybe sisters – dead. In one day. And if anybody says they died protecting Old Glory, Apple Pie, Truth and Justice, I’m going to scream. In fact, you can assume I’m screaming anyway.
the psychological benefits of writing
I’ve been saying it for years …
Many people want to write, and the funny secret is, anyone can. In fact, we all have the ability. Studies show that memoirs have a therapeutic effect on highly stressed individuals.
surge within a surge
U.S. copter down in Iraq; 13 aboard dead:
‘BAGHDAD, Iraq – A U.S. military helicopter crashed Saturday northeast of Baghdad, killing all 13 people on board, a new blow to American efforts in Iraq’
Three other US military deaths were announced separately today … 16 deaths in one day. … It’s enough to make you sick.
Meanwhile, the Iraqi government is trying to work out how to divvy up the oil money “we” started this war to get. The unmitigated audacity.
future history
So I was reading Eckhart Tolle tonight: “Usually, the future is a replica of the past,” which in our present context is a rather disturbing prospect. The past is, in pertinent part, a long line of madmen who lead their hapless tribes and countries into senseless bloody conflict, and it has never solved a thing or served a reasonable purpose, and it’s still going on. At least, that’s the way I read history.
This gave me an idea: history!
We have, perhaps for the first time ever, a chance to really effect how history records what is going on. We have the technology to create a viable grassroots record. We can write it ourselves, and make it much harder for Big Brother to claim “Oceana has always been at war with Eastasia.“
So here’s a start:
Bush’s Legacy: The President Who Cried Wolf. This is a special comment by Keith Olbermann. We should save this, and everything else we see that captures the truth, and keep it moving around the net. Create a repository of the truth.
Speaking of which, check out truthout.org.
somethin’ needs fixin’ alright
I don’t usually post jokes like this on the blog, though we all need a chuckle now and then. But this one – just received by e-mail – made me think, “Yep, that about sums it up.” And you might ask, “Sums up what, Kyle?” It sums up the depth of understanding of the average American of our place in the world, and his willingness to be circumspect. Most people in our 50 states think Israel is Muslim, all Muslims ride camels, and all Mexicans sit around in the shade of half-ruined adobes, dozing under overlarge sombreros.
Y ahora, aliste o no, aquí está la broma…
A rednect couple, both blonde, had 9 children. They went to the doctor to see about getting the husband “fixed”. The doctor gladly started the required procedure and asked them what finally made them make the decision; why after nine children, they would choose to do this.The husband replied that they had heard that one out of every ten children being born in the United States was Mexican, and they didn’t want to take a chance on having a Mexican baby because neither of them could speak Spanish.
And here’s more hilarious and troubling proof that Americans are dumb.
Metaphor 