stripped of their hauteur
by thoughtless frolicking gales,
rattling brown bones
Sunday, October 28, 2018
Today humbugs flourish like weeds
We live in a time of greatly expanded and disseminated information. But not all of this information is true. We need to be cautious as we seek truth and choose sources for that search. We should not consider secular prominence or authority as qualified sources of truth. We should be cautious about relying on information or advice offered by entertainment stars, prominent athletes, or anonymous internet sources. Expertise in one field should not be taken as expertise on truth in other subjects. Dallin H. Oaks.
Today humbugs flourish like weeds,
preying upon our deep needs.
They act like a god
while offering fraud;
their words never match their small deeds.
Saturday, October 27, 2018
Reporter Valerie Bauerlein of the Wall Street Journal Loves Small Town America
It takes a special type of large-hearted person to write sympathetically yet realistically about small town America. Most reporters can't summon up enough empathy, nor discard enough sophistication, to do it. Valerie Bauerlein is the exception; her work on podunks and jerkwater communities makes them come alive, and then lumber off into the distance chased by peasants with pitchforks and torches.
Which is strange, when you come to think of it, because her birth and background are anything but small town. Born and raised in a penthouse apartment that overlooks Central Park, she is the child of unparalleled luxury. Her great grandfather invented the rubber cookie jar, which laid the foundation for one of the most fabled fortunes in America. She not only grew up with an indoor swimming pool and bowling alley, but had a shooting gallery on the terrace for her friends that featured nothing but Ming vases. As a teenager she spent summers on the Riviera and winters sailing among the majestic fjords of Spitsbergen.
Turning down an invitation to lecture at the Sorbonne, Ms Bauerlein instead attended Duke University and went to work as a cub reporter at the Raleigh News & Observer. Unfortunately, she thought they said 'curb' reporter and spent several unproductive years investigating street gutters. But in 2005 she realized her mistake and joined the Wall Street Journal as their Foam Rubber Futures reporter. From there it was just a hop, skip, and a jump to wandering the highways and byways of small town America, reporting on everything from pothole theme parks to paint drying exhibitions.
Her work has been awarded the Sarah Needleman Trophy for outstanding chirography.
When not reporting on how to make box elder bug cuff links, Sarah likes to relax with a cup of homemade Borax and the latest Margaret Oliphant novel.
***************************************
He hasn't got the sense God gave geese!"
Reporter Mike Rosenwald of the Washington Post and the Saluki Conspiracy
Mild mannered reporter Mike Rosenwald of the Washington Post has an MFA from the University of Pittsburgh, where he became interested in the saluki conspiracy theory.
Mike wasn't always an obsessive and determined investigative reporter. He grew up in a small town in a small state with small expectations that were demolished when his maternal uncle was indicted for running an illicit hamster-juggling academy in Bemidji, Minnesota. The shame was too much for the Rosenwalds, so they changed their name to Skamfull -- everyone, that is, except Mike, who refused to give up his family's proud surname because of a crazy uncle. His noble action led indirectly to the Florida Marlins winning the World Series in 1997.
An anonymous tip first led Mike to suspect that salukis were behind the outbreak of Tutmania in Great Britain during the 1920s, and his further research convinced him that salukis and so-called slughis have been in cahoots ever since to bring about a sinister New World Order. His manuscript articles on the subject have been publicly burned by The Economist, The New Yorker, the Boston Globe, and the Columbia Review of Journalism. His life has been overlooked on numerous occasions -- but he has declared that he will continue his investigation until every saluki in America is properly licensed and wormed.
His other interests include the Japanese art of Hikaru Dorodango, or dirt polishing, and playing the crwth.
*******************************
"I bet no one even knows it's a dog he's babbling about."
Friday, October 26, 2018
haiku: the spilling yellow
the spilling yellow
is held back by the autumn shades
waiting for frost fall
haiku: the wan moon sinks low
the wan moon sinks low
behind inky black branches
mourning absent leaves
Megyn Kelly -- Never Trust a Saudi -- Polluters to Pay Big Fees in Washington State -- Return of the Dreaded Candy Corn
A media star, name of Kelly,
found her career turn to jelly.
One thoughtless remark
about minstrels dark,
and they kicked her right off the telly.
*******************************
From the moment the dissident journalist Jamal Khashoggi disappeared after walking into the Saudi consulate in Istanbul this month, Saudi officials have offered a dizzying variety of public accounts about his fate. NYT
The truth, as it's told by a Saudi,
is very creative, though shoddy.
Scheherazade knew
of Arabs a few
know how to account for a body.
******************************
One piece of that transformation . . . will be decided on Election Day by people across Washington state, who will vote on whether to charge companies and utilities for their carbon emissions. The proposed carbon fees, aimed at curbing climate change by making the burning of fossil fuels more expensive, would be the first such state initiative in the nation, and other states are closely watching the election outcome. NYT
A close look at our history
will show that whenever a fee
for doing a wrong
is pushed very strong
it winds up in obscurity.
**************************************
At least 16 states and Washington, D.C., pass out candy corn in sufficient volume to place it among their top 3 Halloween treats in a ranking by candystore.com. And in seven states, it’s No. 1. WSJ
Of all the treats at Halloween,
worse than the licorice jelly bean,
the candy corn stands out as vile --
yet people serve it with a smile.
Should I be offered just one piece
they'd better ring for the police!
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"Give me a caramel apple, any day!"
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