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Greetings, Quotaholics:
I try to use this space for several purposes. Of course, my main
goal is to entertain, but at the same time I want to make people think
about issues and consider them carefully, while reader feedback often
makes us all think of things in ways we hadn’t before. I also
use it to inform people of things that don’t seem to be covered by the
news.
Today entertainment is at the bottom of the list, while informing and
providing fodder for thought are ranked 1 and 2.
We know about the ongoing disaster at the nuclear plants in Fukushima,
Japan, but a look at US media coverage gives the impression that it
never happened, and to those whose memory is longer than one news cycle,
that it’s completely under control. Move along, folks. Nothing
to see here.
The reality is that technicians and engineers are still struggling with
extremely high radiation levels, and the containment structure that
is supposed to keep the fuel from melting through to the outside world
and environment has apparently failed in at least one of the 6 affected
reactors. There is virtual media silence on an issue that is arguably
the most serious nuclear disaster of all time.
But it’s Japan, and for Americans it’s a long ways away and anyway,
it certainly couldn’t happen here. And if something untoward happened,
we can at least be sure that our media would keep us informed, just
as it did with Three Mile Island.
Or can we?
Have any of you heard about serious problems at the Fort Calhoun Nuclear
Power Plant near Omaha, Nebraska? I haven’t, and was very surprised
to learn in an article in Pakistan’s The
Nation newspaper of a "catastrophic loss of cooling" to
one of its idle spent fuel rod pools on 7 June after this plant was
deluged with water caused by the historic flooding of the Missouri River
which resulted in a fire. The Federal Aviation Agency (FAA) issued
a "no-fly ban" over the area, which media personnel believe
was aimed at their helicopters.
A report prepared by Russia’s Federal Atomic Energy Agency (FAAE) on
information provided to them by the International Atomic Energy Agency
(IAEA) states that the Obama administration has ordered a "total
and complete" news blackout relating to any information regarding
the near catastrophic meltdown. Personally I have no idea who
might be responsible for it, but clearly somebody, somewhere must be
pulling strings to keep this under wraps. I can’t think of any
other reason for the complete lack of even a mention of it.
The Fort Calhoun Nuclear
Plant denies on their website that their plant is at a "Level 4"
emergency by stating: "This terminology is not accurate, and is
not how emergencies at nuclear power plants are classified."
Russian atomic scientists
in the FAAE report, however, say that this statement by the plant’s
owners, Omaha Public Power District (OPPD), is an "outright falsehood"
as all nuclear plants in the world operate under the guidelines of the
International Nuclear and Radiological Event Scale (INES) which clearly
states the "events" occurring at the Fort Calhoun Nuclear
Power Plant do, indeed, put it in the "Level 4" emergency
category of an "accident with local consequences" thus making
this one of the worst nuclear accidents in US history.
Though this report confirms independent readings in the United States
of "negligible release of nuclear gasses" related to this
accident, it warns that by the Obama administration’s censoring of this
event for "political purposes" it risks a "serious blowback"
from the American public should they gain knowledge of this being hidden
from them.
Speaking for myself,
I find it shocking that this has been ongoing for two weeks and I knew
absolutely nothing about it. I assumed that the 4th Estate, the
press, would have informed me and everyone else in the country of such
a situation, but clearly that was a false assumption.
I ask you for your
reaction to all of this. Were you aware of Fort Calhoun’s plant
or its problems before reading this piece? Do you believe this
to be an "oversight" by the press, or does it indicate that
some higher powers are controlling what we see and hear? Is it
worthy of coverage? Is there anything we can do to change this
besides staying online and reading alternate news sources? Should
Americans have to rely on Pakistani media to find out what’s happening
in our back yard?
Mushroomly,
P.S. In case you have
never heard the expression before, being "treated like a mushroom"
means that you’re constantly kept in the dark and fed nothing but bullshit.
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| Today’s
Quotes |
A father carries pictures where his money used to be. - Unknown
He didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.
- Clarence Budington Kelland
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| Today’s
Chuckle |
Bad
Examination
[Thanks Bonnie]
The
man told his doctor he wasn’t able to do all the things around the house
that he used to do. When the examination was complete, he said,
“Now, Doc, I can take it. Tell me in plain English what’s wrong with
me.”
“Well, in plain English,” the doctor replied, “You’re just a plain lazy
old fart.”
“I was afraid you would say that.” said the man. “Now give me the medical
term, so I can tell my wife!”
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| Life
Sentences |
It isn’t what they say about you, it’s what they whisper.
The public has always expected me to be a playboy, and a decent chap
never lets his public down.
Women won’t let me stay single and I won’t let me stay married. – all
from Errol Flynn, Australian actor, born on this day in 1909
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| Image’n
That! |
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Dancing
With The Stars
Odd Couple Edition
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| My
Most Embarrassing Moment
My Scariest Moment |
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Speak right up!
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| Cliff’s
Notes
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Patience
"Hurry
up and wait." How many times have we heard that one?
It has been an idiom in our vernacular since forever.
Many of us awaken early so we can prepare for our workday, then get
in line with the masses to enjoy the oxymoron known as "Rush Hour",
then do it again later when we head back home. We know that the
trip would take only minutes if we were the only vehicle on the road
and we still stayed within the speed limits. However, we also
know that isn’t the norm. Instead, we line up and become frustrated
with the traffic moving slower than a person could walk. A newly
coined term, "road rage", has joined the lexicon from
just such situations.
Other traffic conditions also test our patience. Road repairs
and construction usually surprise us when they occur. Don’t even
get me started about traffic accidents that the non-involved must slow
down and inspect in minute detail. Roadways and travel offer the
best test of our patience.
Once we are finally at work, some of us have to deal with people.
Now THERE is a patience factor if there ever was one! Just today
I had the pleasure of dealing with an IT professional. Being in
Information Technology, he has to deal with users of computers and high-tech
equipment. He is never surprised at some of the questions he receives.
As I was in his company, he received a call from a coworker wanting
to know how they could fax something to themselves so they could test
their fax machine. He simply sighed when he hung up the phone.
But a few minutes later, his own lack of patience appeared when
he wanted me to do something physically impossible. He realized
his error when I explained why it wouldn’t work, then he regained his
patience for a while.
We weren’t done testing his patience yet. He had informed me that
he had to leave at 4 p.m., so I had to finish what I was doing, or return
the next day. At 4:05 p.m., I was in my car and a successful conclusion
had been accomplished only minutes before. However, from about
an hour before, right up to when I completed the task, his assertions
of the need to get done by 4 p.m. were repeated often and with decreasing
intervals between them. Yes, my patience was being tested as I
had to explain what I was doing, and why, and how, as I went along.
Then there’s the time between when we leave work to the time we get
to escape back to the the hectic, but ordered, realm of our professions,
we have to endure the chaos and uncertainty of our home lives.
We have to go to the store and stand in line to check out with the one
thing we needed, yet have to wait behind a long line of people
who seemed to have purchased one of everything the store sells.
We have to be patient and wait our turn, or be bold enough to ask if
we can go ahead with the one little thing the Mrs. sent us to get.
Here’s your quiz:
Do you turn up the radio and jam to the tunes while you’re stuck in
traffic too?
Do you bite your tongue when people ask you silly questions that you
know won’t work?
Are you bold enough to ask whether you can cut ahead in line at a store?
Patience - Doctors Have Them, I Don’t
Cliff (the High-Tech Redneck who doesn’t rate a fancy ’signature pic’)
P.S.: A very happy birthday to my wife,
who, on this day, becomes the same age as me …. again.
Comment
on this article |
| Ranina’s
Ruminations |
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Kirsten’s
Krazy Kaleidoscope |
Email Kirsten
“I don’t care
how poor a man is; if he has family, he’s rich.”
~ M*A*S*H, Colonel Potter ~
Today I had grand intentions to write an over-excited post about a new
writing project I am taking on. It all started with a friend’s status
update on Facebook, and within about thirty nanoseconds, this idea had
blossomed in my mind. I contacted the author of the status update that
started all of this, and he expressed interest. So now I am mulling
over the possibilities in my head, and I am really excited. You know
how you can get a puppy and then go on vacation for a month, and when
you get back the puppy gallops towards you, all gangly and over-excited,
and just about knocks you off your feet in its joy? That’s how excited
I am.
I’ll tell you more about the reason another day. It’s almost 11:00 p.m.,
and it is only now that the post-Fathers-Day cleanup has been done and
the dishwasher loaded and put into motion. Not that the dishwasher is
actually in motion, although parts of it are, because… oh, never mind.
I am running a serious risk of going off on a wild tangent, never to
be seen again.
Our Fathers Day celebrations were very simple but absolutely lovely.
My younger son started the day by giving his Dad a present that he had
“made” - a device called a slinky cup. It’s really an ordinary coffee
mug with a slinky toy balanced on top. That way, says my son, the recipient
of the gift can drink tea AND play. At the same time!
We had breakfast, and then I went shopping for picnic stuff. Bread,
cheese, cold cuts, some pita bread and dip. A variety of salads and
some olives. Wine. Grapes, Goldfish Crackers and hotdog stuff for the
kids. A pack of cupcakes emblazoned with Fathers Day messages.
I took the spoils home and made them look all pretty on plates. Honestly,
it was like I was channeling Martha Stewart. Then I took everything
out to the table in the backyard and rounded up my family - a task not
unlike herding cats.
We had a lovely picnic, right there in our own backyard. The kids were
having a great time playing, we were relaxing, and we were all so contented
that we didn’t want to come in. Eventually we had to, of course.
The only downside is that in my efforts to make the food look like something
you’d present to the judges in Top Chef, I used just about every dish
in the house.
But still, a good time was had by all.
Kaleidoscopically yours,
Kirsten
Comment
On This Article
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| Lucille’s
Lunacy |
Being blind has its disadvantages. For instance, rumor has it that I
am a much worse driver than anyone else in my family, with the possible
exception of Lady Baltimore. These limitations are something I’m used
to having, and my town’s citizens are safe from my driving exploits
since I bought my own car, and have to pay its insurance.
There are more subtle annoyances to blindness. Uncovered manholes are
a minor inconvenience, unless of course you tumble into one. Not being
able to read the information monitors at airports can be annoying, and
signs like This Window Is Closed" can provide useful intelligence
if you’re waiting for service that will never come, because, "this
window is closed".
I would happily dispense with these annoyances. In fact, the language
they inspire would probably not be missed by anyone who knows me. However,
an incident that happened to Lady Baltimore has made me content to endure
what I have to, as long as I don’t have to be exposed to (gag!) the
kind of thing that (gag!) happened to her the other day.
Lady Baltimore has two dogs. As we who live with those lovely 4 legged
gifts from above know, dogs have a much closer relationship to nature,
its smells, and its gorier aspects than do we humans. In short, if it
smells bad, feels yucky, or looks worse, dogs assume it is there for
their edification, and, being the generous creatures they are, they
are anxious to share.
Thus, it was that either Reeny, Lady and Lord Baltimore’s golden retriever,
or Moose, their equally large dog of unknown parentage, gave them a
surprise the grossness of which even reaches across state lines (gag!)
as I (gag!) mentioned earlier.
The gift was a mouse. This poor little rodent had died of natural causes,
and one of her ladyship’s dogs thought it should be buried at sea. Since
they don’t live near the ocean, said canine opted to drop it in the
pan under the doggy water bowl. It remained there for a respectable
amount of time, and then, it started to perfume the atmosphere.
"What stinks?" Lady Baltimore may have asked.
"Why, the mouse we dropped near the water dish is developing a
lovely aroma, yes?" Moose probably said to Reeny.
"Divine," she concurred.
"Should we try to figure out what it is?" Lord Baltimore contributed.
"I think it’s coming from the bathroom. Actually, it’s a little
strong around the dog’s water bowl. Maybe dumping it out would be a
good idea." Lady Baltimore added as she poured the doggy’s drink
down their favorite punch bowl.
"No change," Lord Baltimore probably Opined.
"None what so ever," her ladyship agreed. "But, that
seems to be where it is coming from. Maybe it’s in the splash bowl under
the water dish."
It was. It was squishy and waterlogged. It squirted something that Lady
Baltimore did not elaborate upon, except to say that it required a shower.
I made the appropriate noises, and, anyone who knows me will agree that
if I had been on the burial detail, I would have had to be committed.
As it is, I think I’ll find a closed window to stand in front of, and
when one of my colleagues reads the "closed" sign to me and
makes me blush, I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that it could
be a lot worse.
Comment
On This Article |
| Poet-Tree |
Ldo has agreed to start formatting the limericks
for me. Because of this change, we’ve got a new email address
for limerick submissions. The new address is, limerickrgq@gmail.com
or you can use the link below. Thanks for your submissions and
thanks for the help ldo!
Next opening line…
There once was a man from the shire….
Hints:
Here’s a great new rhyming/composition tool. http://www.writerhymes.com/
There’s also a great rhyming dictionary at http://www.rhymezone.com/
Limerick rules. http://freespace.virgin.net/merrick.sheldon/limerickrules.htm
Submit
Opening Line
Submit
Limerick
There
once was a bloke with a toke,
who invented a bong called the stoke.
The fire got hot;
the stoke it did not.
The bloke was no longer so broke. - ldo |
There
once was a bloke with a toke,
who relished a really good smoke.
He flicked up a flame
for he and his dame,
then made love on top of his cloak. - ldo |
There once
was a bloke with a toke
Which kept him perpetually broke
Wanting cash for his needs
He planted his seeds
But everything went up in smoke. - Bonnie |
There once
was a bloke with a toke
Who panicked if he ran out of "smoke"
Things would look kinda hazy
And he’d go kinda crazy
To him it wasn’t a joke. - Skeeter |
There once
was a bloke with a toke
He thought it was not a good joke
To not have some weed
Peppered with seed
Without it he wanted to "croak". - Skeeter |
There once
was a bloke with a toke
Who often found himself broke
‘Cause he spent all his money
On that grass that was funny
And sometimes a bit on some coke. - Skeeter |
There once
was a bloke with a toke
He carried it ’round in a poke
He kept by his side
And didn’t try to hide
Whenever he wanted to stoke. - Skeeter |
There once
was a bloke with a toke
of something that one shouldn’t smoke
for he was quite high
and he couldn’t quite lie
in fact for him it all was a joke. - Cassandra in New York |
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Reader Comments
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Re: Copyright
As long
as you credit the source, and don’t try to sell other people’s materials
without their permission, you’re fine. If you get sued, let me know.
I’ll represent you for a 100% raise in my writing fee. - Lucille
Re: Accidents
I have to laugh at this
whole thing. It was just too funny. Sometimes you just cannot help
but laugh. While at the Seeing Eye, we eventually got to the point
where we were going and getting our own dog’s food every day. Of course
we did not take our dogs with us to get said food, else they would
have been trying to eat out of the containers the food was in, so
I caned it down to get the food. Now let me explain that walking with
a cane after using a dog for a while can be confusing, and so I managed
to run smack in to a wall. My instructor was behind me helping others
get their food, and he heard the smack. He looked up to see me standing
face to face with a wall that refused to move, and he laughed and
said, "Gees lady, I think you need a Seeing Eye dog". hehehaha!
The room erupted in laughter. I don’t know about others, but if I
did not laugh at myself I’d spend alot of time crying. I have also
been a pin ball. I have a nice wide hallway, but in the morning I
just cannot for whatever reason walk straight, and so sometimes I
am going from one side of the hall to the other, and thus bouncing
off the walls. Boing! Boing!
" When
God leads you to the edge of the cliff, trust Him fully and let go,
only 1 of 2 things will happen, either He’ll catch you when you fall,
or He’ll teach you how to fly!" - Tazz
My
cat, Misha, is in his senior years and not so fast anymore. However,
at one time he broke all records for speed in a small house. I swear
I still see claw marks in the carpet from his one-time escape from
hell. Misha loves paper and plastic. He lays on or in paper, and he
chews plastic… then regurgitates soggy plastic on the floor. But
never mind the plastic. The paper is what caused the panic attack
in this story, or more precisely, a large paper sack with handles,
the kind one gets at the grocery store. Misha was playing hide and
seek with himself and the new paper sack. At one point he decided
to peek around the corner of the sack by sticking his head through
the rope handle. He then saw Annie, our other cat, come around the
corner of the doorway. Going into attack mode, he wiggled his behind,
setting his feet up for the pounce. At just the precise moment he
pounced… and went nose first into the carpet, with the sack handle
still around his neck. Thinking that something was attacking him from
behind, he jumped up and started running away. The sack hit him in
the ass. He ran faster. The sack hit him again. Like a streak he took
off through the living room. The sack was still attacking from behind,
and seemed to be catching up. He punched it into passing gear as the
sack was attacking his tail. He slid around the coffee table, catching
the sack on the corner of the coffee table leg, ripping the sack away
from the handle. The sack was no longer attacking, but somehow, something
had him around the neck and wasn’t letting go. He jumped up on the
bed, trying to shake whatever it was from his neck. He then tried
leaping to the top of the dresser from a greater distance than he
had completed before, but whatever had him around the neck was holding
him down. He slammed into the side of the dresser catching the sack
handle on the dresser knob. He immediately got free, took off again,
and faster than I could follow this time, disappeared from sight.
A thorough search of the house found him under the guest bed panting
heavily with the sack handle still around his neck. Apparently he
came to peaceful terms with… the enemy. After much coaxing, he came
to me and I was able to remove the handle from around his neck and
show it to him. He looked at it, sniffed it, then stood up, proudly
walked a couple of feet, sat down and started washing his front shoulder.
In cat language this means, “I meant to do that.” To this
day he avoids paper sacks, even though I cut the handles off. But
he still does the plastic thing. - ldo
Once upon a time,
my friends and I were in the habit of taking a late-night break in
a local park. On the way there, we would be joined by a house cat
who enjoyed our company. After several nights of this, the cat started
hanging back, and then racing past us and up a tree, to look down,
Tiger-like as we passed. Unfortunately, after a few of those, it chose
a steel lamp pole, got up about six feet, and slid back down. We all
had a good laugh, and had to apologize to our friend before it would
continue with us. - Bob of the North
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Disclaimer- All quotes printed in this publication are believed to be
accurately attributed, but no guarantees are made that some incorrectly
attributed, or even outright false quotes won’t get in here from time
to time. I assure readers that I will do my best to weed out incorrect
quotes, and will print a retraction as soon as I become aware of any errors.
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Click here to see the archives of past issues, or go to http://groups.yahoo.com/group/reallygoodquotes/messages.
If you run across something really outstanding when perusing the archives,
I’d appreciate it if you’d mail me at TheBestOfRGQ@yahoo.com
and point it out to me. I’m in the process of compiling an e-book
called, not surprisingly, The Best of RGQ, and I’d like to hear from you
which pieces impacted you the most.
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