Sunday, January 27, 2019

Photographic Still Life

Sticky rice and mango. 2019. by N.D. Bangkok, Thailand.








Saturday, January 26, 2019

It takes a heap of money from the bank to buy a house




California accused one of its own cities of blocking the construction of enough affordable places to live, filing a lawsuit Friday that signals an aggressive approach to the state’s housing crisis by the new governor, Gavin Newsom.
Huntington Beach, an upscale coastal city outside Los Angeles, is “standing in the way of affordable housing production and refusing to meet regional housing needs,” according to an announcement from the office of Mr. Newsom, a Democrat elected in November.
WSJ
It takes a heap of money from the bank to buy a house;
through the sun and shadow mortgages are like a louse --
perhaps you will grow used to one and soon forget to pay,
and that will be the end of you as you are dragged away.

A house is what we dream of when we think of livin' good;
a thick green lawn, two car garage, in some rich neighborhood.
With kids upon the swing set and a dog sniffin' the fence,
a patio with gas grill and much more -- hang the expense!

But jobs are such a song and dance that one can never know
when the layoffs might begin and finances grow low.
The smell of roses round the porch will cloy your hopeless brain,
cuz second mortgages don't come as quick as April rain.

I wonder what "affordable" means to Re/Max agents now?
Half a million dollars is the lowest they'll allow.
Without a push from government a house I'll never own;
a cardboard box will likely be my castle and my throne.

Low cost housing still costs more than I can e'er afford.
And renting an apartment keeps me permanently floored.
I think I'll move to Thailand so I can live upon the beach,
and build myself a wikiup from palm fronds that I pleach.





Are Christians Too Loud?



Houses of worship have featured live music for centuries. In recent years many have been plugging into rock-style sound systems and cranking up the volume. The effort to appeal to more and younger churchgoers is splitting opinions—and ears.
WSJ  @estherfung 

Way up in the heavens, where the cherub choirs sing,
heads were being shaken and pure hands began to wring.
It seems that here upon the Earth a problem had occurred
that irked celestial councils and great bitterness had stirred.

In churches scattered round the globe the music was disturbed;
twas loud and harsh, metallic, and it left some folks perturbed.
The soothing hymn, the chanting plaint, that once rose up to God,
had been supplanted with a racket like the riot squad.

Pastors who viewed empty pews as personal affronts
decided that the young folks wanted heavy metal stunts.
And so they brought in singers who split eardrums with great ease,
that played electric instruments at levels that shook trees.

Younger members of the church responded very well;
but older folk thought that the noise came straight from down in --
well,
they simply didn't like it and they wanted it to stop.
But they were superseded (and they couldn't call a cop.) 

So young folks came while old folks frowned, and deafness crept on in --
was energizing membership quite worth the awful din?
The problem was of such import that in the Heavenly City
angels formed an earth-bound team in choler and in pity.

Gabriel would lead the crew to find the reason why
mortals were so crazy all their hymns to amplify.
Invisible they wafted down to Earth to take a gander
and find out if the hubbub was real music or loud slander.

Into chapel, into church, they floated to observe
the piety, or otherwise, of those who played with verve.
They looked at congregations that in fervor oft arose
to chant along while clapping (wearing earmuffs made by Bose.)

It soon became apparent to the otherworldly squad
that quietude was deemed a lack of loyalty to God.
Silence was not golden, and parishioners believed
that stillness made the holy spirit very much aggrieved.

Gabriel decided that the Earth was close to nearing
a catastrophic loss of faith and probably of hearing.
He and his angelic band resolved right then and there
that mortals should all lose their ears -- to save them from the blare.

And so it came to pass that ev'ry nation, class, and creed,
lost their hearing handles with no pain but lots of speed.
Eyeglasses were tied around the back of people's heads;
otherwise they'd fall off and be trampled into shreds.

No longer in the thrall of noise, church services resumed
their quiet introspection while the members were illumed.
The world became a better place for all mankind betimes --
and this was most of all so true for street performing mimes.


***********************************


Bread in Myanmar, by N.D. January 2019.



Postcards to President Trump



Friday, January 25, 2019

And one was wealthy; one was poor




WASHINGTON—Democratic presidential candidate Elizabeth Warren is proposing an annual wealth tax, attempting to combat inequality and raise trillions of dollars with a significant new levy on the very richest Americans.
Ms. Warren’s proposal would impose a 2% annual tax on household wealth above $50 million and an additional 1% tax on wealth above $1 billion. The tax would affect about 75,000 households and raise $2.75 trillion over a decade, according to economists Emmanuel Saez and Gabriel Zucman, who analyzed the plan for the Massachusetts senator.
WSJ  @RichardRubinDC  

The stork dropped in to town one day;
two infants in two cribs did lay.
And one was wealthy; one was poor.
So one had less and one had more.

 Do not hasten to conclusion;
down the road there'll be confusion!
Poverty and wealth aren't easy
to define if you are breezy.

The wealthy babe grew up with cash;
enough so he could make a splash
by giving much to charity
and living pretty worry free.

In fact, the older that he grew
the less was money like a glue
that stuck to him through thick and thin.
(His bankers thought his gifts a sin.)

So when he reached a ripe old age
his wealth had not become a cage;
unlike that Bible rich guy, Dives,
our friend was happy (no ex-wives.)

Yet it did please the IRS
to cause this man complete distress;
they wanted all his wealth to tax,
but found he gave away such stacks

that there was little left to grab,
and so they sent the cops to nab
him for an unjust allegation --
he was charged with tax evasion!

And now he languishes in jail;
his spirits droop, his skin is pale.
He's stamping license plates all day,
and wonders how he went astray.

The other babe, in poverty,
grew up a welfare prodigy;
while on the dole he learned to shirk
and to avoid all honest work.

Beguiled by government largesse
he spent his time in playing chess,
and learned the game so well that he
soon gained complete proficiency.

He entered tournaments galore
and soon built up a mighty store
of prize money that made him rich.
(And still he never worked a stitch.)

Retired to a Swiss chalet
he whiles away each pleasant day
in teaching idle youth to play
the game of chess his winning way. 

So there you have my moral tale;
I hope it wasn't very stale.
When all is over, said, and done,
just which of these two really won?


Postcards to President Trump




Thursday, January 24, 2019

Photographic Still Lives. Thursday. January 24. 2019. Deseret Industries, Provo.







The Speech That Wasn't Made



WASHINGTON—President Trump said late Wednesday that he wouldn’t deliver his State of the Union address until the government reopened, following days of high-profile squabbling after House Speaker Nancy Pelosi urged the president last week to delay his speech.
WSJ



Donald Trump has now become a name that will not fade
from history in tribute to the speech he never made.
He had his notes and prompt book and was ready to convey
to Congress and the people his amazing cabaret.

But suddenly Pelosi slammed the door right in his face,
and Trump no longer had his presidential gabbing place.
He thought he might try Central Park, or Disneyland instead;
he even thought it could be done from Lincoln's White House bed.

At last he gave it up as just another left wing ruse
to keep the country uninformed and issues to confuse.
Then speculation grew as to what was in his postponed speech;
would IT have made the Democrats collapse without a screech?

Big Pharma thought he would complain about the price of drugs.
Labor was as certain that he'd call them dirty thugs.
Wall Street knew deep in their bones that Trump would not gainsay
the reckoning to come to them upon the Judgment Day.

Trump refused to say a word about his canceled speech.
And so the innuendos grew as strong as Clorox bleach.
He'd give Green Cards to refugees who paid beneath the table;
he wanted to give Kim Jong-un a beautiful fur sable.

Putin would become an honorary Eagle Scout;
Robert Mueller was demoted to a Brussels sprout;
Ivanka was appointed the Ambassador to Spain;
Mitch McConnell would be granted funds to find a brain.

Global warming was outlawed as terroristic thinking;
polar icecaps were too big and needed modest shrinking.
We'd be invading Canada, as soon as it stopped snowing.
And NATO could just hit the road, their soldiers take up sewing.

The commentary on Trump's speech that never would be given
caused an uproar coast to coast and left the country riven.
In panic whole communities fled to the isle of Fiji,
while billionaires wiped windshields with a tattered filthy squeegee.

The Pentagon decided to go in for renovation,
becoming a large shopping mall and Conoco gas station.
Women marched on Nordstrom stores and caravans of kitties
infiltrated Instagram and set up large committees.

The speech Trump never gave was soon so infamous that he
was taken out of office and sent to a nunnery.
And that is why his name is used to frighten little nippers
and as a cuss word when adults get fingers caught in zippers.



Bangkok Outdoor Market Photographic Still Lives, By N.D.













Postcards to President Trump