Showing posts with label survival tactics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label survival tactics. Show all posts

Friday, February 27, 2009

Miss Clifton Wades In

Today there is much rejoicing. Our Federal Government, the one that dictates how fast we can drive, what light bulbs we use and how much water we need to flush the damn toilet, is ceding to the states the right to legalize weed. And of course, the Bay Aryans are all a-dither in their adulation of the extremely clever and humane administration of our only president. I swiped that last bit from Molly Ivins. She won't care. She's dead from cancer or drinking or an ugly disposition. Something. Anyway, back to the potheads.

I have a series of questions for you, ahem, smokers out there. If you read the comments you get the same old blather about Prohibition and lost tax revenue, yada yada. OK. If marijuana is harmless, why were we subjected to The Grateful Dead for freaking decades? They only made two good albums! Only TWO!!! Why hasn't anybody come up with a more evolved, compelling comparison than Prohibition? Why is this the only time stoners care about something dull like tax revenue? Why is this the singular instance of their noodling out the math? That and mentally doing metric weight conversions. And you know what, Ben and Jerry's isn't exactly good for you.

Oh, not you, of course. You're a productive citizen. Never broke any other laws, always held a job, paid your own way, the whole nine yards. That may be. But you have to know, in your more lucid moments (like the day before payday when you've been smoking resin since Tuesday) how much more productive you could be if you didn't have to spend all that time finding your keys. But today's payday and you have your mind on other things, like working groceries and rent and dope. So I'll tell you why this is a crappy-ass idea from a government that doesn't give a damn about you, that uses you like a punk every two years when it's time to vote for them to continue living off you. Think of it as my public service. I'm a giver.

Legal dope means more people can get it cheaper. Woo Hoo!! I hear you. But think on this: You know how you'd rather not be bothered with certain details when you're high? Or you hear stuff and then forget about it? Or you hear stuff, period? Or you get these big ambitious ideas you never follow through on? Yeah. That's what they're counting on. You like conspiracy theories? Almost as much as you like Sunchips? Mmmm, French Onion... where was I? Oh, yeah. Our government is kind of saying that they'd really dig it if they could keep you... well, suggestible. That it'd be the path of least resistance to just do as you're told, and since you won't remember what you're told that could be a new thing every week. "Giving" your state this "right" is a means by which to buy loyalty through the indenture of your addiction. Because this isn't about sick people. Sick people take Marinol or eat weed; addicts smoke, and you know it as well as I do.

Every worker works because they have a lifestyle to maintain. Nobody has any incentive to earn more than they absolutely need when they know any surplus will be confiscated. Children provide a pretty good incentive. So does a drug habit.

This isn't giving you "the right" to anything. This is cynically preying on people's weaknesses. It's what the British did to the Chinese with opium, to make them malleable and less able to resist The Crown's predation. Read up on the Boxer Rebellion. And you'd celebrate the guy you voted for doing the same to you? You must be on drugs.

Monday, August 4, 2008

The Meanest Nice People in the World.

I get a lot of heat from my family and friends over my political views, especially from friends I've reconnected with after a period of being out of touch. It varies from indulgent disapproval (hi, mom) to vitriolic name-calling. That would be my older brother. He's bald and bitter. My friends and I share a mutual befuddlement; them over "how conservative I've become," and me over how they managed to get lead poisoning. Kidding. It's more likely mercury from the fluorescent lights. I feel like the guy in the Joe Walsh song: "Everybody's so different/ I haven't changed."

And I really think I haven't changed. I've always thought that we were each in charge of our individual destiny, that women and men are complimentary equals -- as in, not the exact same, thank God, that race doesn't matter; like love, stupid sees no color. I also think the strong should show consideration for the weak, and that the weak have an obligation to become stronger so they can shoulder their responsibility for themselves. My favorite freedom, though, the one I really miss, is -- as W.S. Burroughs put it -- the freedom to mind my own damn business. I never really thought of these as conservative views. I always kind of saw them as the way things were supposed to work.

And once upon a time my friends felt the same way. Some still think they do. But they see the world in childish, comic book terms, where the "Neo-Cons" are the Forces of E-vil and the "Progressives" are the superhero class, like the X-men. All war is bad, unless neither side is white, and then we're not touching that one. That doesn't happen. No person is illegal, unless they are more wealthy than you. Everyone has a right to earn a living, unless it's in oil production or whaling, in which case those damn Eskimos can starve. Women are always better than men. No religion and all religions are better, more virtuous than Christianity, the dominant religion of Western Civilization. Because we're too big, too wealthy, our citizens deserve to be attacked and we don't deserve to defend ourselves. We had it coming.

I'm telling you that to tell you this: If we lay back and allow things to progress the way they are there will come a group of people who aim to take us over for real, people whose lines of reasoning and life philosophies are foreign to ours in every sense of the term:

Is it obligatory for the husband to provide medical treatment for
his wife?
Q: If the wife becomes temporarily or chronically ill, does the husband have to pay for her treatment? If she for example, wants to have children but suffers from problems preventing her from having children,
does her husband have to seek treatment for her and pay for it? If it is not compulsory on the husband to do so, then what shall the wife do if she becomes ill while she does not have money and her husband doesn’t give her money to save?

A: Praise be to Allaah.
According to the majority of fuqaha’ from the four madhhabs, the husband is not obliged to pay for medical treatment for his wife. Some of them gave the reason for that as being that it is not one of the essential needs, rather it is something extraneous. Imam al-Shaafa’i (may Allaah have mercy on him) said in al-Umm (8/337): The man is not obliged to offer a sacrifice on behalf of his wife or to pay the fee of a doctor or cupper for her. End quote.
It says in Sharh Muntaha al-Iraadaat (3/227): He is not obliged to provide medicine or pay the fee of a doctor if she falls sick, because these are not essential needs, rather they are incident and are not obligatory. End quote

See: Haashiyat Ibn ‘Aabideen (3/575); Sharh al-Kharashi ‘ala Mukhtasar Khaleel (4/178).

This is the website that quote came from. To be fair, it ultimately says that it would be a nice thing to do to pay for your wife's medical bills. Do check out the home page, and notice it's in English, among several other European languages.

I don't know how it is that my close circle seems to think that just because the guy down at the corner store is nice that I'm a sheet-wearing racist for implying that maybe Islam is not as benign as they think. I can't understand other women I know who rail and cry over how unfair our society is to them, and I don't understand how anyone who claims to believe in personal liberty could be sanguine with a society that demands you pray to their god five times a day, that bans pet dogs, literature and music, that punishes homosexuality with death, the same way it punishes teaching little girls to read.

I wish there was a way to make them see, before we all have to learn by example.

Monday, May 26, 2008

I fail to understand.

Foreign Policy magazine has compiled a list of the top five worst places to be a terrorist. The U.S. is not on the list. France, charmingly, is at the top. So why are we catching hell for being all xenophobic and awful and whatnot? Why doesn't everybody pester the two muslim countries on the list, Egypt and Jordan? Because we're "racist" and they're not?

Maybe they know something we don't, living in the same region with radical Islamists as they do. Maybe the "You horrible people are racist" thing works so well in England it gives the bad guys the impression we'll fold faster than Superman on laundry day. I doubt it. For one thing, a lot of us pride ourselves on being contrary. Oh, and a lot of us are armed.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Practical advice

Do you have to ride the bus, as part of a commute or for travel? Uncomfortable with the level of intimacy bus travel affords? Here's how to get a seat by yourself, as in, here's how to get someone to move out of the seat next to you and discourage people from taking it:

1) Acquire target seat.
2)Take no more than sixty seconds to pretend like you're falling asleep.
3) Relax your upper body and allow yourself to slump forward until you are bent double. Your arms should hang loosely so that your hands brush the floor and your chin should rest on your knees. Allowing your head to occasionally strike the seat in front of you adds a touch of authenticity. Try not to bite your tongue; that really hurts.

Just for the entertainment value, try this in an aisle seat. People will climb over the back of the seat to get out without touching you.

Worried about maintaining your dignity? Get off the bus. No, actually, there is another method that is somewhat more interactive and requires a prop. Carry your jacket, backpack, attache or soiled rag in a bundle as if it were a baby. Speak to it occasionally. Not loudly, though; you want people to lean in slightly to hear what you're saying. Make a point of noticing them and twist your body away while glaring at them in a hostile manner. With a little effort you'll have your entire half of the bus to yourself, leaving you free to meditate or whatever. You're welcome.