POWIP Piece of Work In Progress

Neuter America’s Space Ambitions

We're all going to have to sacrifice, but rather than cut back on bureaucrats, Obama would rather cut back on NASA. He'd promised to protect their jobs, but I guess they aren't unionized or something, so he's changed his mind.

And in case someone might call him on it, he made sure that not a single NASA worker was invited to his press event.

Change!

Thanks for restoring science to its rightful place, with Potemkin crocodile tears. Back in the day, we could put a man on the moon, but we can no longer even get this highly motivated President to Poland, because of the volcano that has erupted due to global warming.

At the same time, Eric Holder's defending those wacky kidz whose sympathies lay with America's enemies. Because real visionaries have visions that are better than yours, peasant.

Dan Collins

Dan Collins is a dude who blogs. He used to blog elsewhere. Now he blogs here.

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On Days Like These…

Seems we've finally made it through Winter here in SE Wisconsin. A good thing too, as I couldn't stand any more of it.

To those who don't live in Wisconsin, please keep in mind that it is somewhat of a responsibility of Cheeseheads like me to complain about the weather. When it is too hot, we wish for Fall... when it is too cold, we wish for Spring. When it is too cool we wish for Summer... so forth and so on. But mostly, we look forward. Most of us wonder aloud whether we live here for the weather or the taxes. Even though the weather is out of our control, we as a state continue to embrace olde-world socialism by voting in the likes of Gov Doyle... oddly, these Dems usually win by a margin of 1-2% - when late-night vote tallies from the outlands of Wisconsin arrive at 1 or 2 in the AM. Nevertheless, we remain in Wisconsin. It is very common for Wisconsinites complain and remain. I don't know if that is a reflection of ethic, commitment, or a desire for martyrdom.

Sorry for rambling.

It is on days like today, with the windows open and the cool breeze blowing through the house - so desperate are we for fresh air after being caged in our homes for 5 months during Winter - that I feel like being outside. I like to be outside, sitting in the sun, listening to the birds and wondering about things while I smoke.

James pretty much hated Wisconsin. He hated the weather. But also found the deeply-rooted Germanic culture cold too. He preferred New Mexico. He liked the mountains and the desert. He wanted to move back West as soon as possible. Having grown up in suburban Milwaukee... having moved out to the SW in his twenties, and then having moved back for work in his mid-thirties, James had cause to know which he preferred.

We talked about everything. We were in business together. Both of us were fascinated by the Cosmos and all of the mysterious therein. We would talk about stuff that others would surely take to mean we had lost our wits. But when we discussed crazy shit and outlandish ideas, there were no limits... no constraints. No fear of being accused. Everything was open to discussion. Nothing was off-limits. And even if years had passed us by, a tendril of a concept could be picked up right where we left it. And this meant that over the almost 30 years of our friendship, we had disagreed on very much. But we had also come to accord on many, many matters... having tested each of these under the scrutiny of extreme heat and repeated hammers. We were forging our friendship and helping each other grow spiritually.

James would probably be here today. Sitting on one of our patio chairs gifted from Jane his mother to Jennifer and I when she sold her house 15 years back. He would be shaking his head with disbelief as I challenged or asserted this or that. He had a habit of uncomfortably long pauses as he considered his words. He would be smirking, staring down at his pouch of tobacco, paper ready to be receive just enough. I would say, "What?" He would take his time, tamp down the tobacco, roll it like a million times before, put it up to the tip of his tongue like a typewriter return. Then, he would let it hang there and glance at me as if to say, "You're such a dumb shit." Then, he'd light his smoke, take a deep breath, lean back, exhale, and say, "Dude..." Which meant, "why are you being so daft?" Then he would argue how naive I was or purposefully dense. I would act like I was offended or confused about what he meant by being purposefully dense. He would laugh, knowing I was daring him to say what he was saying aloud. He would very rarely give me such satisfaction. Instead, he'd repeat, "Dude!" Which meant, "Seriously. You're such a jack ass. You know what you're doing. Fuck, I hate it when you do that." I'd raise my eyebrows and look surprised, "Me? Purposefully daft to make you explain yourself and that shit logic?"

And this went on for years, whether over the phone, at the bar, at a restaurant, instant messaging, via text, voice mail, etc. .

On days like these I can see him. And I miss him very much. I will never have that again.

This is the pain we feel when we lose someone so close to us - so close that it is impossible to explain. When we reflect on that missing part. The tear in the mainsail of our soul. The wind blows right through it. Like a house with its windows wide open.

Enoch_Root

AKA. Bobby Donn Brubaker (the most popular man in Mesa, AZ), the Umbrella of Terror, Jack Ketch.

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American Identifies “His People”

This uncle tom house ni^*er sell-out traitor to the race brainwashed uppity black man African American negro American is very brave... I mean to say these things on camera. What is this world coming to?

Enoch_Root

AKA. Bobby Donn Brubaker (the most popular man in Mesa, AZ), the Umbrella of Terror, Jack Ketch.

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Dear Poland

Keepers and Defenders of The Faith, Most Faithful, Most Beloved: We apologize for our President.

The many Catholics of the United States. What are we to think, brothers?

Among the many prayers, for Mike in NH, Ric Locke, Moxie's dad, and now our own Rocketman. There are so many, Lord. And yet, you have reconciled us all.

Dan Collins

Dan Collins is a dude who blogs. He used to blog elsewhere. Now he blogs here.

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On Lucy’s impending demise

Lucy

Just about everyone knows the old saying, “we all have our problems”, and admittedly mine are few, my life is blessed, and filled with many graces.  But the world today can be a difficult and complex environment to negotiate; each day bringing with it a new set of challenges to face, issues to contemplate, discussions to have, and decisions to take.  There are so many people quietly suffering, for a variety of reasons, whose lives interlock with each of ours, directly or virtually, and who need our support, advice, empathy, good wishes, and prayers.  So I am loathe to relate a matter that seems comparatively inconsequential in the scheme of things; one on which I seek neither your pity nor comfort, but only your thoughts.

Lucy is a little white dog, and our beloved pet.  A “rescue” dog my wife adopted nearly 9 years ago, when the best estimates were that she was already 4 or 5 years; a snow-white Maltese that is no bigger than either of our admittedly large housecats.  Tomorrow Lucy is scheduled to be euthanized…

When healthy, she was almost always loving, bouncy and happy, full of vigor and verve.  Incorrigible when I first moved here, following our marriage 5 years ago, she came to recognize me as the “alpha” in our home.  It never ceased to amaze my wife and mother-in-law that I was able to teach-the-old-girl-new-tricks such as not begging at the table, shamelessly, and to sit and behave when commanded   And I did it without ever striking or physically disciplining her; I mean, a man my size would feel like “two cents waiting for change” had I ever done so.

Lucy was ecstatic whenever my wife or I walked through the front door, hopping about madly on her hind legs in the manner of a performing circus dog; it was endearing as well as  heart wearming, and we used to say she was dancing for us.  And when any “unauthorized” persons came into our yard, she would act as though she were a 90 pound Rottweiler instead of the 9 pound pipsqueak she actually was; charging towards the door and barking like there was no tomorrow.

Unfortunately, there will be only one more tomorrow for her.

A couple of months ago we noticed her getting sick more often.  An imaging examination revealed an already large growth that had begun to insinuate her stomach and nearby intestine; one that, upon further analysis, the veterinarian determined would not be operable.  He couldn’t tell us how long she might survive at that time and attempted to treat her condition with very strong medicines.  However, the treatments were to no avail, and though her condition seemed to improve in the short term, the menacing growth had quickened and there was nothing we could do but pray.

In the past three weeks her condition has deteriorated rapidly.  Unable to eat much, what little she ingests passing through mercurially, Lucy's weight has slowly dwindled to the 5 pounds she is now.  In spite of all this, she kept alternating between periods of energy and lethargy, still dancing when we came in the door; until 4 days ago.  Since then she has barely eaten, with precious little coming out the proper end; we called the vet and told him it was probably her time.

She won’t be dancing anymore…

I’ve been in this situation before in my life, several times in fact.  But what is especially trying about this episode is that I have to watch my lovely wife suffer through it.  It’s been very hard for her and she's spoken of  feeling powerless to help Lucy.  It brings her to tears when she relates how she promised Lucy she’d always take care of her, and now can’t.  And I’m getting a taste of how she feels.  I know this is probably well traveled ground for those of you blessed with children, but it is something that she and I have never faced together.  And although I reflexively fix a stoic look upon my countenance, I must admit to the anxiety roiling underneath.

I think that the worst part for me has been the philosophical dilemma surrounding when to make the hard call.  The truth is, she could probably hold on for some time, and the vet has assured us she is in no physical pain, although most likely a continuous nausea of sorts.  And that brings me to the subject I’d like your opinions and insight on.

It occurs to me that there is a very fine line between terminating her life too soon, and waiting too long.  On either side of that line are bands of selfishness.  To euthanize her too soon in order to avoid having to clean up after her accidents, spare us watching her decline, and, frankly, to avoid the sudden jolt of waking up and finding her dead seems selfish on our part; that we would be doing it for our convenience.  But, to wait until the absolute bitter end seems selfish too; like we’re keeping her around solely for our benefit, so we can spend one more day with her in our lives.  It’s a fine line indeed…

But the bottom line is that after tomorrow, Lucy won’t be dancing here on Long Island anymore.  I just hope and pray that all dogs really do go to heaven, and that it will only be a metaphysical blink of her eye until my beloved wife, myself, Lucy, and all the folks we love will be together again.

Thanks for listening, and for your insight on toeing the fine line between convenience, mercy, and necessity.

So here’s to Lucy, Requiescat in pace et in amore…

Rocketman

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Dan Collins

Dan Collins is a dude who blogs. He used to blog elsewhere. Now he blogs here.

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The Picnics of Rage

Noam Chomsky: “The level of anger and fear is like nothing I can compare in my lifetime,” he said.

Politically motivated violence.

More incitement to violence.

Matthew Vadum's article on Brandon Darby is relevant, and should be widely read and spread.

Dan Collins

Dan Collins is a dude who blogs. He used to blog elsewhere. Now he blogs here.

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Icelandic Volcano Wants Virgins

EU can't find any.

Let's throw Steven Seagal in there and see what happens. Or Rick Sanchez.

Related: It's sad when continents drift apart.

Obama urges dialogue.

Dan Collins

Dan Collins is a dude who blogs. He used to blog elsewhere. Now he blogs here.

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I’ve Seen the Needle

and the damage done:

Recent polling shows that despite lofty predictions that a broad-based Democratic constituency would be activated by the bill's passage, the bill has been an incontrovertible disaster. The most recent Rasmussen Reports poll, released on April 12, shows that 58 percent of the electorate supports a repeal of the health-care reform bill -- up from 54 percent two weeks earlier. Fueling this backlash is concern that health-care reform will drive up health costs and expand the role of government, and the belief that passage was achieved by fundamentally anti-democratic means. Already we are seeing the implications play out with the retirement of Rep. Bart Stupak (D-Mich.) -- who had effectively become the face of the last-minute, closed-door negotiations that resulted in passage.

via Breitbart.tv

Still more class, and yet more.

Goldman, take a look at my life; I'm not much like you:

Goldman Sacked? [Daniel Foster]

Breaking over at the Wall Street Journal:

SEC charges Goldman Sachs with civil fraud in structuring and marketing of CDOs tied to subprime mortgages.

Stay tuned.

And it's gettin' old . . .

NPR on what we bailed out.

Dan Collins

Dan Collins is a dude who blogs. He used to blog elsewhere. Now he blogs here.

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The Conservative Conundrum

McArdle and Berube are going the rounds regarding whatever institutional barriers may exist within the academy to conservatives. Whatever the reasons for the dearth of conservatives, which I believe may have to do with the extraordinary claims of theorists in the liberal arts, it is clear that the genre of political psychology is skewed in such a way---like feminism, really---as to rake all of the laudable human characteristics in the direction of liberals and to pile the rest on their opponents. A good example of the genre and its tendencies can be found here, and since the accreditation necessary to have such ideas widely disseminated is a function of the academy, I would say that the system is rigged, even if it's not that organized. It's been shown, for example, that self-described conservatives (social or fiscal) give more to charities in all income brackets than their liberal counterparts. Meanwhile, the percentage of liberals who voluntarily surrender to government more than what they owe in taxes is, I would hazard to guess, vanishingly small.

Many of the studies purporting to differentiate between liberal and conservative psychologies forward some version of the thesis that conservatives are psychically risk averse. That's a compelling perspective, if one's a liberal, because it makes one a bit heroic for holding what one regards as heterodox views, and one can congratulate oneself on the fact at large, even if one is in the academy, where such views are coin of the realm. What does it say, though, that liberals are for as large a social safety net as possible (versus practicable)? What does it say that they are staunch defenders of tenure? What does it say that they have become the supporters of schemes to stifle the expression of new heterodoxies? They have become the revanchist conjurers of novel taboos.

And now, if you'll excuse me, it's time for my talking cure.

Dan Collins

Dan Collins is a dude who blogs. He used to blog elsewhere. Now he blogs here.

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