From CAPT Doug Traversa: And now for something completely different. Here are some of the more austere rules of Camp Phoenix: First of all, no alcohol is allowed here. This is not an issue to me, as I have never been drunk, and rarely drink wine, never mind hard liquor. So I couldn”t care less about the booze prohibition, but it wears on a lot of my compatriots….
It’s been a busy week in Wally World: the Universe’s source of cheap plastic crap. On The Writing On The Wal — the blog USA Today says should be on its readers’ radar — Jonathan Rees, Robert Feinman and I continue our work dedicated to drawing back the curtain on the Bentonvile Behemoth’s corporate disinformation and other flackery.
WHY SHOPPERS LOVE WAL MART, NO. 110… The consumer revolution is being blogged and one of the walls up against which retailers are being placed is My 3 Cents. Stop in and type a search for Wal-Mart and watch the search engine whir. I got 309 hits, like this one: Keep reading…
OBAMA, EDWARDS AND WAL MART… More than a year ago I was looking for a way to articulate why Wal Mart was bad for America and I wrote about Senator Barak Obama”s (D-Ill.) 4 June 2005 speech in which he spoke the phrase: We chose to act, and we rose together. Keep reading…
LET THE FISKING BEGIN… I”m off to class in 10 minute so I”m not going to be able to do this piece by Art Carden, a graduate student in Economics at Washington University in Saint Louis. justice, but I know my co-bloggers are going to have a a field day pulling this one apart. Here”s just a taste: Keep reading…
WHY SHOPPERS LOVE WAL MART, NO 111… The consumer revolution is being blogged and one of the walls up against which retailers are being placed is My 3 Cents. Stop in and type a search for Wal-Mart and watch the search engine whir. I got 309 hits, like this one: Keep reading…
AT THE WALLY PLEX… There are sound stages on Hollywood”s back lots smaller than Bentonvile”s behemoths, so it”s no surprise that budding video talent has been sneaking cameras in at odd hours. And now for the midnight show at the Wally Plex featuring jzenman. Keep reading…
WHY SHOPPERS LOVE WAL MART, NO 112… The consumer revolution is being blogged and one of the walls up against which retailers are being placed is My 3 Cents. Stop in and type a search for Wal-Mart and watch the search engine whir. I got 309 hits, like this one: Keep reading…
WHY SHOPPERS LOVE WAL MART, NO 113… The consumer revolution is being blogged and one of the walls up against which retailers are being placed is My 3 Cents. Stop in and type a search for Wal-Mart and watch the search engine whir. I got 309 hits, like this one: Keep reading…
WHY SHOPPERS LOVE WAL MART, NO 114… The consumer revolution is being blogged and one of the walls up against which retailers are being placed is My 3 Cents. Stop in and type a search for Wal-Mart and watch the search engine whir. I got 309 hits, like this one: Keep reading…
WHY SHOPPERS LOVE WAL MART, NO 115… The consumer revolution is being blogged and one of the walls up against which retailers are being placed is My 3 Cents. Stop in and type a search for Wal-Mart and watch the search engine whir. I got 309 hits, like this one: Keep reading…
WHY SHOPPERS LOVE WAL MART, NO 116… The consumer revolution is being blogged and one of the walls up against which retailers are being placed is My 3 Cents. Stop in and type a search for Wal-Mart and watch the search engine whir. I got 309 hits, like this one: Keep reading…
November is a light-blogging month for me as I take part in the National Novel Writing Month and pound out 50,000 words in 30 days. During this time I’m relying on a cache of emails from my dad to help fill in the space so that Have Coffee Will Write doesn’t go dark. I’ll be back full-time on Friday, 1 December. B’shalom, Y’all.
My name is Jeff Hess and I’m a biblioholic. I own hundreds of books. Not valuable books, mostly Science Fiction paperbacks and text books, tomes rescued by the bag from library book sales. A few years ago, in the interest of not burying myself, I began reading more books from the library and taking notes. My electronic chapbook was born.
This is a passage I copied from A Charlestonian”s Recollections 1846-1913 by Daniel Elliot Huger Smith.
A number of negroes were examined as witnesses, but they were not put under oath. This was the case always in those days with negro testimony. it was never under oath and was only considered of value when corroborated. p. 37
Mark your calendars: Friday, 29 December 2006 is National Drunk Blogging Day. The rules are this: Start drinking. Start writing. No regrets. This could be so much fun if we could come up with designated drivers to get us all home from the Town Fryer. I think I may want a flying-liquids screen to throw over my laptop though.
Because I’m devoting most of my time in November to the Novel In A Month Challenge, I’ve set up 30 items from my blogpile — items I once thought interesting but never blogged about — for everyone to discuss. Next up is Birthday calculator. Scoop, lever, heave, scoop, lever…
From Tadpole: We finished building a school today. It is one of many schools we have built throughout Afghanistan. Locals come to the ribbon cutting, everyone seems very pleased. Next week, the Taliban will burn the school. A week or two later we will repair it. Such is the dance. The Afghan people are stuck in a strange situation. On one hand are the Coalition Forces. We do…
November is a light-blogging month for me as I take part in the National Novel Writing Month and pound out 50,000 words in 30 days. During this time I’m relying on a cache of emails from my dad to help fill in the space so that Have Coffee Will Write doesn’t go dark. I’ll be back full-time on Friday, 1 December. B’shalom, Y’all.
New Guide to World Politics…
DEMOCRAT
You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
You feel guilty for being successful.
Barbara Streisand sings for you.
REPUBLICAN
You have two cows.
Your neighbor has none.
So?
SOCIALIST
You have two cows.
The government takes one and gives it to your neighbor.
You form a cooperative to tell him how to manage his cow.
COMMUNIST
You have two cows.
The government seizes both and provides you with milk.
You wait in line for hours to get it.
It is expensive and sour.
CAPITALISM, AMERICAN STYLE
You have two cows.
You sell one, buy a bull, and build a herd of cows.
BUREAUCRACY, AMERICAN STYLE
You have two cows.
Under the new farm program the government pays you to
shoot one, milk the other, and then pours the milk down the drain.
AMERICAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You sell one, lease it back to yourself and do an IPO on the 2nd one.
You force the two cows to produce the milk of four cows. You are surprised
when one cow drops dead. You spin an announcement to the analysts stating
you have downsized and are reducing expenses.
Your stock goes up.
FRENCH CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You go on strike because you want three cows.
You go to lunch and drink wine.
Life is good.
JAPANESE CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and
produce twenty times the milk.
They learn to travel on unbelievably crowded trains.
Most are at the top of their class at cow school.
GERMAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You engineer them so they are all blond, drink lots of
beer, give excellent quality milk, and run a hundred miles an hour.
Unfortunately they also demand 13 weeks of vacation per year.
ITALIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows but you don’t know where they are.
While ambling around, you see a beautiful woman.
You break for lunch.
Life is good.
RUSSIAN CORPORATION
You have two cows.
You have some vodka.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You have some more vodka.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
The Mafia shows up and takes over however many cows you really have.
TALIBAN CORPORATION
You have all the cows in Afghanistan, which are two.
You don’t milk them because you cannot touch any creature’s private parts.
You get a $40 million grant from the US government to find alternatives to
milk production but use the money to buy weapons.
IRAQI CORPORATION
You have two cows.
They go into hiding.
They send radio tapes of their mooing.
POLISH CORPORATION
You have two bulls.
Employees are regularly maimed and killed attempting to milk them.
BELGIAN CORPORATION
You have one cow.
The cow is schizophrenic. Sometimes the cow thinks he’s French, other times
he’s Flemish.
The Flemish cow won’t share with the French cow.
The French cow wants control of the Flemish cow’s milk.
The cow asks permission to be cut in half.
The cow dies happy.
FLORIDA CORPORATION
You have a black cow and a brown cow.
Everyone votes for the best looking one.
Some of the people who actually like the brown one best accidentally vote
for the black one.
Some people vote for both.
Some people vote for neither.
Some people can’t figure out how to vote at all.
Finally, a bunch of guys from out-of-state tell you which one you think is
the best-looking cow.
CALIFORNIA CORPORATION
You have millions of cows.
They make real California cheese.
Only five speak English.
Most are illegals.
Arnold likes the ones with the big udders.
My name is Jeff Hess and I’m a biblioholic. I own hundreds of books. Not valuable books, mostly Science Fiction paperbacks and text books, tomes rescued by the bag from library book sales. A few years ago, in the interest of not burying myself, I began reading more books from the library and taking notes. My electronic chapbook was born.
This is a passage I copied from A Charlestonian”s Recollections 1846-1913 by Daniel Elliot Huger Smith.
A number of negroes were examined as witnesses, but they were not put under oath. This was the case always in those days with negro testimony. it was never under oath and was only considered of value when corroborated. p. 37
Because I’m devoting most of my time in November to the Novel In A Month Challenge, I’ve set up 30 items from my blogpile — items I once thought interesting but never blogged about — for everyone to discuss. Next up is Can I have something for nothing?. Scoop, lever, heave, scoop, lever…
From CAPT Lee Kelley:
A year ago, there was no running water on my base. It was just a pile of dirt and debris, with a few old buildings here and there. Some of the buildings may have been nice once upon a time. I hear they used to be part of an agricultural college. But now they are nothing more than dirty, sand-bag-covered husks…
November is a light-blogging month for me as I take part in the National Novel Writing Month and pound out 50,000 words in 30 days. During this time I’m relying on a cache of emails from my dad to help fill in the space so that Have Coffee Will Write doesn’t go dark. I’ll be back full-time on Friday, 1 December. B’shalom, Y’all.
My father never drove a car.
Well, that’s not quite right.
I should say I never saw him drive a car. He quit driving in 1927, when he was 25 years old, and the last car he drove was a 1926 Whippet.
“In those days,” he told me when he was in his 90s, “to drive a car you had to do things with your hands, and do things with your feet, and look every which way, and I decided you could walk through life and enjoy it or drive through life and miss it.”
At which point my mother, a sometimes salty Irishwoman, chimed in:
“Oh, bull–!” she said. “He hit a horse.”
“Well,” my father said, “there was that, too.”
So my brother and I grew up in a household without a car. The neighbors all had cars – the Kollingses next door had a green 1941 Dodge, the VanLaninghams across the street a gray 1936 Plymouth, the Hopsons two doors down a black 1941 Ford – but we had none. My father, a newspaperman in Des Moines, would take the streetcar to work and, often as not, walk the 3 miles home. If he took the streetcar home, my mother and brother and I would walk the three blocks to the streetcar stop, meet him and walk home together.
My name is Jeff Hess and I’m a biblioholic. I own hundreds of books. Not valuable books, mostly Science Fiction paperbacks and text books, tomes rescued by the bag from library book sales. A few years ago, in the interest of not burying myself, I began reading more books from the library and taking notes. My electronic chapbook was born.
This is a passage I copied from A Charlestonian”s Recollections 1846-1913 by Daniel Elliot Huger Smith.
Among decent people, when a gang of Negroes was sold, great care was always taken to keep families together. p. 34
Because I’m devoting most of my time in November to the Novel In A Month Challenge, I’ve set up 30 items from my blogpile — items I once thought interesting but never blogged about — for everyone to discuss. Next up is Hydrogen atom drawn to scale. Scoop, lever, heave, scoop, lever…
From SPC Ian Wolfe: When we were first told we were going to be conducting first aid classes for the local Iraqi civilians we didn’t quite know what to expect. We were not sure what they knew, who would be there, or if they would listen. Our team, Cpt. Monte Haddix from Cheyenne, Wyoming, Staff Sgt.Tracy French from Virginia, Minnesota, and myself, started research…
I’ve not held a full-time job with benefits in 10 years. I tutor, I write and I hold it together. Barely. But I’ve held it together. And there are days when I get angry, at myself and at the World. Yesterday was one of those. Then I read stories like Chris Dansby’s The Meaning Of Work in this morning’s Washington Post.
Chris’s attention, though, was on a list of jobs on a computer screen. Senior litigation paralegal was the first one. He needed a job suitable to a high school graduate who hadn’t worked steadily in months. Account executive. And who didn’t have a car except when he could borrow one.
Software requirement analyst. And who had a Metro fare card only because a relative gave him one. Director, corporate strategy. And who was so broke that the only thing in his pockets other than the keys to a car that had no gas was a pair of dice that he extracted and rattled whenever he had nothing better to do.
Mail room. He paused and read the job description. “The responsibilities include sorting and delivering mail.” He looked at the address, saw that it was nowhere near public transportation, and moved on.
I’m tutoring a student right now who could benefit reading this article. I’m going to print a copy out for him.
Read the whole series.
November is a light-blogging month for me as I take part in the National Novel Writing Month and pound out 50,000 words in 30 days. During this time I’m relying on a cache of emails from my dad to help fill in the space so that Have Coffee Will Write doesn’t go dark. I’ll be back full-time on Friday, 1 December. B’shalom, Y’all.
My name is Jeff Hess and I’m a biblioholic. I own hundreds of books. Not valuable books, mostly Science Fiction paperbacks and text books, tomes rescued by the bag from library book sales. A few years ago, in the interest of not burying myself, I began reading more books from the library and taking notes. My electronic chapbook was born.
This is a passage I copied from A Charlestonian”s Recollections 1846-1913 by Daniel Elliot Huger Smith.
Shoes were selected for purchase by means of a “shoe-stick” of appropriate size which were bundled and carried to town where each was inserted into the proper shoe and left there until delivered to the owner. p. 30
Because I’m devoting most of my time in November to the Novel In A Month Challenge, I’ve set up 30 items from my blogpile — items I once thought interesting but never blogged about — for everyone to discuss. Next up is ZEEK: A Jewish Journal of Thought and Culture A Jewish Journal of Thought and Culture. Scoop, lever, heave, scoop, lever…
From C. Maloney: I just found out about an hour ago that my husband’s unit is being sent into Iraq. Not from the wives network, as promised, not from my husband, not from his commanders or his Gunny. I read it in the news online. I had a real rough day yesterday, hadn’t heard from him in a bit, thought maybe he was on the move or there was some reason…
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