Friday, December 9, 2016

Your primary tab is empty

"Your primary tab is now empty"
This is the note that I crave
when emails are rising about me,
and all of them I have to save.

The boss has a project a-brewing;
the spouse needs the car right away.
A friend shares a video up link.
The dentist wants me in today.

I start ev'ry morning determined
to clean out my email stockpile;
by noon I am still behind schedule,
 my stomach starts filling with bile.

I'm paralyzed with indecision,
so tempted to hit the 'delete'
to wipe out this online affliction
and go eat a bowl of puffed wheat. 

I yearn for a blackout of power
from nature or nuclear bomb;
or maybe I'll give it all over
and move to a place like Assam. 

I'm up late, replying to queries 
so frivolous I want to scream;
the Internet needs Torquemada
to be its preeminent meme! 

The weekends do not bring abatement;
my smartphone keeps me in the loop.
I get even more dumb malarkey 
from chatty insane nincompoop!

But then comes the notice: I'm laid off.
My emails are caught in a drought.
My inbox is empty and dusty,
and weeds are beginning to sprout.

Oh, for the days when an email
would need a reply PDQ.
Now I'm an internet leper,
whose emails have dwindled to few . . .   



The Chinese are after my name!

Michael Jordan Owns Right to His Name in Chinese Characters, Too, Court Rules
Headline in the New York Times


The Chinese are after my name!
They know it will soon have much fame.
It might sell thumb tacks
and paraffin wax --
Or I might become a board game!




Light the World #7

 Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy: when I fall, I shall arise; when I sit in darkness, the Lord shall be a light unto me.
Micah 7:8


I sat me down in darkness, amidst ashes of distress;
my life become a millstone with no chances of success.
Strangers looked upon me with a narrow sullen eye;
friends were only distant thoughts I didn't want to try.

Fallen, I could not get up nor see a clear pathway,
Till calling on the Lord of Hope, I found the light of day.
Truly, nothing stands between the light of God and me
except the pride that blinds me to His luminosity!

  

Thursday, December 8, 2016

Vladimir Putin drops shock hint at his retirement

Vladimir Putin is dreaming of ending his career and going travelling in his retirement, he revealed today.
from the New Zealand Herald 

If Putin indeed should depart

all Russians would soon take great heart

in losing a thug

who was a humbug,

and treated the Duma like fart. 





It's hard for this poet to find

It's hard for this poet to find

a subject with Trump not aligned. 

For stupor and zeal

he is the ideal;

his folly is easily mined. 






Light the World #6

I have even heard of thee, that the spirit of the gods is in thee, and that light and understanding and excellent wisdom is found in thee.

Daniel 5:4 

Light and wisdom, understanding come to those who seek
illumination from the God of Sinai's bright peak.
No other beacon throws its rays with half the steady glow
as that which streams from mountain top upon this false plateau.
Have ye heard, ye clouded throng, about the God of Light?
He sends his word to kings and counselors in deepest night.
But they cannot interpret what this glory may portend
unless they seek the help of those to whom God is a friend.
That all may know, and all may see, and testify aright
that Christ did come as one and only source of truth and light.  


Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Restaurant Review: Moriscos los Chinchorros. Provo, Utah

This seafood restaurant is located in a former gas station at 610 West Center. In fact, you still have to go outside and around to the back to use the restrooms.

You get complimentary chips and salsa. And they make their own chips; they are thick and crusty.  I ordered the Daily Special, Caldo de Res (beef and lettuce soup) but it wasn't ready yet -- so I ordered some fish tacos while I waited. They were magnificent. And only 99 cents. They don't have a drive through, but I highly recommend if you are in the area and looking for semi-fast food to go you should stop by and order a dozen. Just don't try to eat 'em in the car; you'll spread greens and Mexi-mayo all over the upholstery.

The beef soup was not what you would call haute cuisine. The beef was just plain boiled, and full of fat. It came with enough sides to make the thin broth it's served with very thick and flavorful. I guess you would call it 'peasant cooking'.  I paid $9.67 for the caldo de res and for 2 fish tacos.
I'm giving it Three Burps. I'd probably give it four if I had stuck with just the fish tacos.

The Tragedy of Wheeler & Woolsey

The grim tale of Robert Woolsey reminds us today of a time not too far in the past when workers were expected to cover their own expenses if they were injured on the job; the employer could do something, out of the kindness of his heart, but was not required by law to contribute a single penny to the care of an employee who was injured at work.  Disability insurance and worker’s compensation were just pie-in-the-sky ideas bandied about by social theorists.

Although largely forgotten today, Bert Wheeler and Robert Woolsey were a stellar comedy team, first on Broadway in the 1920’s, and then becoming top-drawing clowns for RKO studies in Hollywood in the 1930’s.

They first met while working as water boys for the circus, and soon cooked up clown makeups and gags that got them invited into clown alley at smaller circuses.  In 1923 they graduated to Broadway, where they played rude bumpkins in several musical comedies staring Ethel Merman.  Their big break came in 1929, when they starred in the Broadway musical “Rio Rita”, which was one of the first Broadway shows to be filmed in sound in Hollywood, with Wheeler and Woolsey continuing in their starring roles.

By now they had refined their stage personas; Bert Wheeler was the young man always on the brink of falling in love while Robert Woolsey played a cigar-smoking wisecracker, leering at the world like Groucho Marx, behind a pair of exaggerated black horn rim glasses. 

During the filming of “Rio Rita” Robert Woolsey was required to be hoisted into the sky on a mechanical whip – a device to give the film audience the impression that the screen actor was flying, like Peter Pan.  In the hands of a competent technician, the whip was completely safe, and had been used for years both onstage and in movies.  But on the day Woolsey was to be filmed using the mechanical whip the technician in charge of it called in sick, so the director, Luther Reed, simply told one of the electrical grips to handle the sensitive mechanism for the scene.  The grip, with no training, attached the straps incorrectly, and when Woolsey was hoisted into the air he had barely reached ten feet when the straps came loose, allowing Woolsey to fall onto a wooden sawhorse.  Woolsey was rushed to the studio infirmary, where a nurse gave him a cursory going-over and proclaimed he had only minor bumps and bruises and should go home to rest and come back the next day to resume filming.

This was the start of the agonizing internal problems that Robert Woolsey suffered until the day of his death in 1938.  It did not enter his mind to seek competent medical help or get the studio to pay for x-rays.  After all, he was just a screen comedian, a lowbrow clown; there were literally dozens of them haunting Broadway and Vaudeville, waiting for a crack at a movie role.  So Woolsey did not rock the boat, but continued to work with his partner Bert Wheeler in series of scintillating musical slapstick comedies.  But Woolsey soon found he could not work for a full day without becoming physically exhausted to the point where he would pass out in the afternoon and be sent home.  Ugly rumors were spread that he was drinking and blacking out, but the truth was he had damaged his kidney in the fall from the mechanical whip; each film he made after that increased his pain, sapping him of energy and strength.  Anyone watching the Wheeler and Woolsey films in chronological order will be struck by how emaciated and stiff Robert Woolsey becomes by the end of his career; he appears to be 30 years older than his partner Wheeler (they were actually just five years apart in age).  In his last film, 1937’s “High Flyers”, Woolsey is not even introduced into the movie until the first 20 minutes have passed.  He looks, and acts, like an old man.  By then everyone at the RKO studio knew he was a dying man.  Two months after finishing the picture, Robert Woolsey entered the Santa Monica Clinic and was treated for kidney failure.  There was little the medics could do, and he passed away quietly, with his partner Bert Wheeler at his side.

After his death the Screen Actors Guild held an emergency meeting and passed two resolutions.  The first one was to award a lifelong pension to Robert Woolsey’s widow, and the second was to threaten to go on strike if Hollywood studios did not immediately institute a series of health and safety reforms, including disability insurance and worker’s compensation as required by California state law.  The studio heads muttered it was all a ‘communist plot’, but they gave in, and Hollywood actors at last were protected on the job in the land of Make Believe. 

Their movies are available as DVDs at Amazon.com  

Michael G. Flynn



The son of the top national security adviser to President-elect Donald Trump was removed from the new administration’s transition team on Tuesday after backing a bogus conspiracy theory that inspired a shooting incident in Washington, according to people familiar with the matter.
from the Washington Post

An idiot, Michael G. Flynn,
Let rumor get under his skin.
The lies he proclaimed
Left his intellect maimed;
He’ll soon find a nice loony bin.

Trump adviser’s son removed from transition after spreading conspiracy theory

Michael G. Flynn and his father, retired Lt. Gen. Michael T. Flynn — Trump’s designated national security adviser — have both used their social media accounts to promote fabricated claims, including allegations that aides to Democratic presidential candidate Hillary Clinton were involved in a child prostitution ring.
from the Washington Post 
When madness leaps from tongue to tongue,
when rumor rules the land;
advisers to the President
become a foolish band.
Their motley, though expensive,
is the same old cap and bells;
the only office they deserve
is silent padded cells.