tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6850655822818483432024-03-05T20:03:09.560-05:003 Ring BinderA place to collect, store, and integrate ideas.Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.comBlogger1199125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-82369066757172487512019-11-03T11:01:00.000-05:002019-11-03T11:08:03.334-05:00The Last of His Kisses<style type="text/css">
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<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">The barking has stopped, but there is no relief.</span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">The last of the tumbleweeds have been swept.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">The gentle tapping of the too-long nails,</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">The happy thumping of excitable tails,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">The last of wet kisses - now memories wept.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">The barking has stopped, but there is no relief.</span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><br /></span></span></span>
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigs1jQFInJCHsbbwBljF5-58jozr5AW6b6Bto-bahpNpxrZ2Z0rOq4wwpsJ9Hl_z1Fs4DFVcFdhyZ-DYGXyOlOVC425fGNA9zux6yxW_ashyP3eogIj40EA6MG9ohkAChpTJJMzR9c8uU/s1600/IMG_7722+2.jpeg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigs1jQFInJCHsbbwBljF5-58jozr5AW6b6Bto-bahpNpxrZ2Z0rOq4wwpsJ9Hl_z1Fs4DFVcFdhyZ-DYGXyOlOVC425fGNA9zux6yxW_ashyP3eogIj40EA6MG9ohkAChpTJJMzR9c8uU/s320/IMG_7722+2.jpeg" width="320" /></a> </span></span></span></div>
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<i><span class="s1"></span><br /></i></div>
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<span class="s1"><i>For Hapi, Buddy, and Chloe</i></span></div>
<br />Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-41930233864647412902019-03-06T10:35:00.000-05:002019-03-06T10:54:14.925-05:00Sokal-led AcademiaBriefly, three academics could no longer understand the state of social discussions and the immediate dismissal of people through the labelling of "racist, sexist, homophobic" of anyone wanting to actually discuss issues. They followed the path from shouting moral certitudes back to sociological studies published in academic journals. They decided to create and submit 20 theoretical social studies papers for some of these journals. What they discovered is that even if you take a chapter of <i><b>Mein Kampf</b></i>, switching out specific references with sociological buzz words, a peer-reviewed journal may accept your work.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2018/10/new-sokal-hoax/572212/" target="_blank">What the New Sokal Hoax Reveals About Academia</a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=97FuO-hEhQo&t=53s" target="_blank">Dave Rubin interviews Peter Boghossian and James Lindsay</a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kVk9a5Jcd1k" target="_blank">Their own video of the problem of grievance studies</a><br />
<br />
<br />
This is neither a <i><b>gotcha!</b></i> moment, nor a prank to be dismissed.<br />
<br />
It should be a turning point in how academic journals consider their own objective: to further knowledge in their specific fields, or to further an agenda of their specific fields.<br />
<br />
Instead of the soul-searching that should be evident for the journals, the work appears to have caused the three who wrote these pastiches of fake research--all liberals--to be threatened verbally and physically.<br />
<br />
So read or watch the links above if you'd like to gain a little insight into what they tried to accomplish -- unless, of course, you consider even the <i>discussion</i> of this problem as violence or if you find using reason to be a weapon of Western scientific discovery perpetuated by the patriarchy. Then read or watch them twice.<br />
<br />
<br />
If you'd like to read an abstract of one of their accepted journal articles, you can find it here as an <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/0966369X.2018.1475346?journalCode=cgpc20&" style="font-style: italic;" target="_blank">"exemplary scholarship in feminist geography"</a>.Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-37340640280778331052018-04-23T13:02:00.000-04:002018-04-23T13:02:17.415-04:00Dirge Without Music<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>By Edna St. Vincent Millay</i></span><br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="p4">
I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.</div>
<div class="p4">
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:</div>
<div class="p4">
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned</div>
<div class="p4">
With lilies and with laurel they go;<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
<div class="p4">
but I am not resigned.</div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p4">
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.</div>
<div class="p4">
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.</div>
<div class="p4">
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,</div>
<div class="p4">
A formula, a phrase remains,—but the best is lost.</div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p4">
The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,—</div>
<div class="p4">
They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled</div>
<div class="p4">
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.</div>
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More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p4">
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave</div>
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Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;</div>
<div class="p4">
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.</div>
<div class="p4">
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.</div>
<br />Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-9802390128449911872018-03-16T17:10:00.000-04:002018-03-16T17:10:09.913-04:00Old Lady DreamsIs it just me, or do you also think about how when you get old, you can do amazing things? And I'm talking really old, so I'd better lose some weight and get some sleep.<br />
<br />
For instance, I can see myself becoming a really cool old lady actress. Movies must need really cool old ladies for something -- like portraying really old ladies -- and I can't imagine having a career in Hollywood and then wanting to see myself as wicked old on the big screen. Since I've never been on the big screen . . . no problem. It's all gravy.<br />
<br />
Another thing I think I'll be really good at, and it's quite a valuable skill as well, is being able to decipher handwriting. I just saw this meme and it reminded me of my living as Rosetta Stone desires.<br />
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<br />
Or saying whateverthefuck I want. I'm pretty damn close to that now, but still, there are some things that I just wouldn't say. Someday, though, all bets will be off!<br />
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You have been warned.<br />
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<br />Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-36096911512289855942018-03-08T16:54:00.002-05:002018-03-08T16:54:33.169-05:00Because This Cracks Me Up.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I got this little app called <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/my-talking-pet/id662090840?mt=8" target="_blank">My Talking Pet</a> and I can't stop playing with it. </div>
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My daughters have told me in no uncertain terms to stop texting them movies of their beloved pets talking. That such a practice is disrespectful and gross. </div>
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I cordially disagree. </div>
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This here is comedy gold.* </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx15nYTuEtmMy_8MnbbDa9nY2CEdGme1k2c1mCiL0BUwU-gy0mQ_sqmo2Of-NlOlpf5c4Zl3JPq6T3y6xFNSA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">*Especially if your family often quotes the Beatles-like vultures in the original Jungle Book movie. </span></div>
Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-50633710076901676022017-06-30T15:40:00.000-04:002017-06-30T15:44:10.616-04:00Hypnotizing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
The rippled and rippling reflection pool under the portal bridge to Point State Park in Pittsburgh, which is itself under a bridge. Or two.<br />
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<br />Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-35211560230041056012017-06-30T07:17:00.000-04:002017-06-30T07:17:19.128-04:00Invictus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-10734106521701443382017-06-30T07:14:00.000-04:002017-06-30T07:14:15.260-04:00Trump.The election was almost seven months ago.<br />
<br />
The inauguration was over five months ago.<br />
<br />
While I herein have no beef with the system which allowed these events to occur, and acknowledge the sanctity of the process of a peaceable exchange of leadership in our country, I just can't use the word <i>President</i> before his name. It seems surreal. Like a bad joke. Like a betrayal of the office of President of the United States. <br />
<br />
While mine wouldn't be the first, last, or worst betrayal of the office, it is mine with which I wrestle.<br />
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<br />Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-9303444683580608712017-03-28T18:50:00.000-04:002017-03-28T18:50:10.361-04:00Depression, Anxiety, and PTSD: A CNN article.Read <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2017/03/14/health/climate-change-mental-health-eprise/" target="_blank">this</a>.<br />
<br />
Tell me exactly what the psychologist, James Rubin from Kings College, says about the mental effects of climate change.<br />
<br />
Nothing.<br />
<br />
Not a damn thing.<br />
<br />
He has studied and discusses the mental impact of flooding.<br />
<br />
The author of the report put (climate change) in parenthesis in a direct quote from Rubin as well interspersed Rubin's words with tidbits about flooding events "expected to rise," "could be heat waves," plus a bunch of other horrors and finally "suicide for those who cannot cope."<br />
<br />
Rubin is concerned about the mental health of people who experience natural disasters and doesn't think the problems will necessarily go away on their own.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: #fefefe; color: #262626; font-family: CNN, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, Utkal, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">He recommends that adequate mental health services be provided as standard parts of a response effort and that risk factors be identified to help protect people from developing any of these conditions in the first place, such as helping people who have been cut off from social support services or preventing extensive damage to homes.</span></span></blockquote>
At no time does he talk about the impact of climate change on mental health. But that doesn't stop the author from putting this beauty forth at the end of the section with Dr. Rubin:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: #fefefe; color: #262626; font-family: CNN, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, Utkal, sans-serif;">But the feelings will always be there -- worry, anxiety, fear -- feelings many people not just around the world are experiencing as they think about the future of the Earth.</span> </span></blockquote>
Bait and switch. Subliminal messaging. Fake it 'til you make it.<br />
<br />
Whatever you want to call it, this "reporting" from CNN causes me great anxiety. Now I'm a slightly depressed. And CNN has a bad case of PTSD, if PTSD means Prone to Transmit Slanted Data. Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-36542664479699197182017-03-22T11:48:00.000-04:002017-03-22T11:48:06.679-04:00ICE: An Unscheduled OneTiny snaps underfoot titillate.<br />
Stepping gingerly. Sliding slightly.<br />
Leveraging stability for euphoria,<br />
Beckons venturing further afield.<br />
<br />
The promised rush of nothingness.<br />
No weight. No worries. No world.<br />
<br />
Latent ice in her veins freezes,<br />
And cracks.<br />
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<br />Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-32866044715230537992017-03-09T09:00:00.000-05:002017-03-09T09:05:16.611-05:00My dog. <div class="p1">
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<span class="s1">This is my dog.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">This is my happy dog.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">This is my happy dog hightailing away from me.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">This is my happy dog hightailing away from me after I had him in a headlock.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">This is my happy dog hightailing away from me after I had him in a headlock to take a picture with me.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">This is my dog after having to take a picture with me. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Happy.</span></div>
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<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">And now you know why. </span></div>
Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-20393801589301750962016-11-17T08:56:00.001-05:002019-11-03T10:39:40.708-05:00Naughty or NiceBefore bestowing the bounty of toys on Christmas Eve, that's Santa's litmus test. Have you been naughty or nice? He really doesn't give a shit if you have deep, passionate feelings about certain things, attachments that you're willing to fight for, or an outrageously tight and innate sense of justice. He just wants to know if you've been naughty or nice.<br />
<br />
When you think about it, it makes sense. He doesn't have time to check on all the little nuances that make each child a worthy and wonderful little person.<br />
<br />
But Santa is for suckers. There's no way that one old, fat dude can get all that crap to all those kids. I'm just sayin'.<br />
<br />
We, however, are not suckers. We are individuals who must deal with each other as other individuals. Naughty or nice. Or in the parlance of today's political realm, nasty or nice.<br />
<br />
A friend recently wrote on her Facebook wall that someone accused her of being not nice. Later, she said the other person thought she was nasty. Is that all? Is that the litmus test for friends? Nasty or Nice.<br />
<br />
Personally, I find both superficial and boring.<br />
<br />
"Oh, she's real nice."<br />
<br />
It makes my skin crawl to hear people describe others this way. (Partly because, obviously, I'm nasty and partly because "real" is not an adverb)<br />
<br />
Nice.<br />
<br />
<b><i>Nice</i></b>? What the hell does that even mean? <i>She's giving and loving, or she always has a big smile and always agrees with me. </i> I suspect it's more of the latter these days, but either way, when used as the primary descriptor, <i>nice</i> is a synonym for <i>doormat</i> to me.<br />
<br />
As for <b><i>nasty</i></b>, I think that people don't like to be contradicted. About anything. Nasty is usually reserved for those who are not only opinionated, but also get a little heated when stating those opinions.<br />
<br />
You can reject my connotation of nice, but I adamantly reject the connotation of nasty. Nasty should be reserved for people who try to rile up others but really have no concern about the matter at hand. For those who snipe, mumble rather than speak their differences. For those who are uninterested in discourse unless they are guaranteed to get the last word.<br />
<br />
Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-33385877607293180252016-11-16T15:26:00.000-05:002016-11-16T15:27:02.532-05:00Living LargeLast night I went with a friend to see the National Theatre's movie presentation of <a href="http://ntlive.nationaltheatre.org.uk/productions/ntlout18-hamlet" target="_blank">Hamlet</a> starring Benedict Cumberbatch as the tortured Dane. I was so proud of myself for agreeing to go out on a weeknight and see a movie of a Shakespearean play that I didn't think my night could get any better.<br />
<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj924TcukMaFSRl9s8myo0S8aORhGdLg1mMMPXIq7LUSg_B0zj0cGbh3fN7Y08Rlvm-Hd2Jo04xCc8z09HGn7ZXVSaJGsoDSzhE_op44mSY1u14twHJ_PsTRkD4V0OzyO4KNUxrt9NfkI8/s1600/website_header_moved_bc_face.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj924TcukMaFSRl9s8myo0S8aORhGdLg1mMMPXIq7LUSg_B0zj0cGbh3fN7Y08Rlvm-Hd2Jo04xCc8z09HGn7ZXVSaJGsoDSzhE_op44mSY1u14twHJ_PsTRkD4V0OzyO4KNUxrt9NfkI8/s320/website_header_moved_bc_face.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It did. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There was a bar at the theatre! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It's not that I would in any way need a bar to sit through four hours of Shakespeare. No! It's just that it was such an unexpected delight. It's almost like I hadn't been to the movies since they invented the reclining seats. But, I digress. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Not only did the theatre have a bar, but there was "real" food. (By "real" food in this context I mean anything not made by Mars, Incorporated or deep fried.) As it was the Ides (of November, so not really), I ordered the Caesar chicken salad wrap. After many, many minutes and missing the beginning of the Cumberbatch mini-interview, I got my food and settled into my recliner to watch. Wrapped up in the witty words, I then proceeded to dip my down vest into the dripped Caesar dressing. After a while, despite their elevation, my feet started to swell because of the salty food and I thought I was going to have to strip naked because of the heat in the auditorium. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Other than that, and being completely appreciative that my friend drove in the rainy dark, I am totally killin' it with my sassy, devil-may-care, I-can-stay-out-past-10-on-a-weeknight attitude! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Regarding the play, not only was Mr. Cumberbatch a wonderfully physical Hamlet, but Claudius was none other than Ciaran Hinds! (I <b><i>love</i></b> him!) While some of the smaller parts were not as well inhabited (I could not really understand Horatio and his was not a small role), the massive and creative staging contributed perfectly to the somber mood and big drama. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'd do it again.</div>
<div>
On a weekend.</div>
<div>
Minus the Caesar salad.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-39797476247534318452016-09-20T15:06:00.000-04:002016-09-20T15:07:20.486-04:00Dog, the AdolescentHe stands poised, ears erect, at the edge of wide cart path, staring into the woods.<br />
A chipmunk, a squirrel, a robin, even, catching his momentary interest.<br />
But it is only momentary. Less than a minute, really. Waiting for a signal.<br />
Waiting for a louder call into the woods -- the tipping point to the chase.<br />
It doesn't come.<br />
Instead he hears, <i>let's go dog!</i> and his wild revelry is broken.<br />
<br />
Thirty feet later, he does it again.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDK54QwCEVPSI2MLUDvkqdsNelx7ozaB7Zhhw8BqthoESQgowpe2oWOkl20HWDP-RL9_cLpvNlPA5aChgoXDnl7bMCAXDBlGG3mSnIIUjEwYpb2JNVwNXLSZDGR515_g7XtWfXkKtKGkw/s1600/IMG_0144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDK54QwCEVPSI2MLUDvkqdsNelx7ozaB7Zhhw8BqthoESQgowpe2oWOkl20HWDP-RL9_cLpvNlPA5aChgoXDnl7bMCAXDBlGG3mSnIIUjEwYpb2JNVwNXLSZDGR515_g7XtWfXkKtKGkw/s320/IMG_0144.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-76021542362713227562016-09-07T20:37:00.002-04:002016-09-07T20:38:23.040-04:00The Accordian JobEvery year one of the churches in our town holds a country fair in September. Every year we innocently go to this fair and poke around. Every year we come home with bags of books: books we've heard of, books we've had, books with recipes, books with pictures, books with hardcovers, books with paper covers, book without covers, books, books, books.<br />
<br />
Well, you get the idea.<br />
<br />
This year, in the spirit of decluttering, minimizing, and cleaning, I've decided we need to pull an accordian job at the fair.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
This accordian player finishes a gig, throws his accordian into his car and starts home. On the way he stops at a convenience store to get a drink but forgets to lock his door. He comes out of the store, opens the car door and shouts, "Oh no! It's happened again!".</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
In the backseat now sits two accordians.</blockquote>
I wonder if they'll notice the book table getting more full each time we pass.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgneDme2DqfCvjft7I-hBOv0OyCgkjrnHU-HQAo7PMiih8yp6oqVF15P1Jp7hf21luYT7odupJ49652arXyvla79yXaRyap9TLq4Jzm5ulfKjnAwjQGN1Ao9TWaw0fSszI6hJ3F_BqOUGc/s1600/SqueezeThis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgneDme2DqfCvjft7I-hBOv0OyCgkjrnHU-HQAo7PMiih8yp6oqVF15P1Jp7hf21luYT7odupJ49652arXyvla79yXaRyap9TLq4Jzm5ulfKjnAwjQGN1Ao9TWaw0fSszI6hJ3F_BqOUGc/s320/SqueezeThis.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I just hope this isn't there.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-65211039269913848842016-09-02T06:31:00.000-04:002016-09-02T06:31:33.521-04:0010 Things I Learned (or Confirmed) By Walking Every Day.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiclRu0a9Y2LforMCX7dnno-Jn4Eq6QKXgawqdJur4ioFx4uU_EMsIzelMtVjbW4UowwAHrTZfUb9RQFKGEXgLAJFB_MBsUYjSsBEjDAt4Ea5WfB3G6g6rHdbv2IxuC2N08lApLlVWGZpo/s1600/IMG_5247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiclRu0a9Y2LforMCX7dnno-Jn4Eq6QKXgawqdJur4ioFx4uU_EMsIzelMtVjbW4UowwAHrTZfUb9RQFKGEXgLAJFB_MBsUYjSsBEjDAt4Ea5WfB3G6g6rHdbv2IxuC2N08lApLlVWGZpo/s320/IMG_5247.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<ol class="ol1">
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">If there is a woods option, take it.</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">There is usually hiking or walking path within 30 minutes of wherever you are. Use technology to find it. </span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">I am the only one enamored of shadow pictures.</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">Walking alone is restful, unless you are particularly restless.</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">What's more exhilarating than pockets of warm and cool air as you walk? Pockets of good and bad smells. (Well <i>exhilarating</i> might not be the best word for the bad ones.)</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">Proper footwear should <b>never</b> be discounted.</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">It is much harder to walk on a very humid day is than it is to walk the rest of the year -- even through snow and rain.</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">Walking with friends is great! Walking with my dog is great! Walking with my dog and my friends and their dogs does not work for me. </span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">I have gone from timing how fast I can walk to exploring how much can soak in. I'm not sure that's a good thing. I suppose it depends on my objective, which was to walk every day for a year. No more no less.</span></li>
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">Walking everyday makes me happy.</span></li>
</ol>
<br /><br /><ol class="ol1">
</ol>
Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-3555839848656074362016-09-01T08:26:00.000-04:002016-09-01T08:27:43.197-04:00TransientsWith all of my interest in interior design, my quest to be at rest, comfortable in an aesthetically pleasing space, my fascination with dual purpose pieces and multi-functional furniture, you'd think that my house would be a perfectly designed and lovely haven. Not. Even. Close. I've given it some thought and it's the convertibility thing, I think. Everything is in a state of flux. Those who know me know my stock phrase, "it's in transition." <br />
<br />
So it really shouldn't surprise me that each of my children have lived in my house as if they were transients. But it does.<br />
<br />
We've been lucky enough to have rooms for each of the children from a very young age (it was tough sharing with the screaming Mimi for two year, for which I apologize to the Boss). Each room was carefully designed and decorated to delight, comfort, and provide a quiet space to work, think, or read. We painted murals on the walls, including integrated chalk boards, sewed canopies, curtains, and stuffed palm trees! I wanted these rooms to be my children's haven.<br />
<br />
Apparently, they were only <i>my idea</i> of a child's haven. My children, however, chose -- each in his own way -- to treat their rooms more like an AMC tent platform/transfer station. From sleeping in a sleeping bag <i>on</i> the bed so he wouldn't have to make the bed (a request I gave up years ago), to hoarding things under her bed in case the candy-apocalypse should come, to having her own "if it smells okay, wear it" clothing-pile boutique, each child made her room her own.<br />
<br />
As the last child is poised to head off to college, I've begun to wonder what I should do with the now three, not quite empty bedrooms. After a shake up in the room pairings, my other half has converted the smallest into the music room with great success. Both he and my youngest have spent hours and hours in there filling the house with music. But two rooms remain without purpose.<br />
<br />
My immediate task is to change the boutique from the pile-it system to something more livable and inviting for when she brings home friends from college (again - <i>my idea</i> of what she needs), and the other into a real guest room, unoccupied by metaphorical candy wrappers. Once those transitions are completed, maybe I'll be bold enough to introduce that white damask duvet cover in my own restful haven.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBDePBC2Y23rZBXF6jGwRc-DDNqEGoZZrcH42mTj30e5z3E3W3JLiKhG0sk0tBmebUeLrjyTk8rJtDdETRcLGmm8nwSHUWRYm9NmE2x0SQM8e3aP1Cw_SgQEKNc9JquCtMNxmEta22Us/s1600/room2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBDePBC2Y23rZBXF6jGwRc-DDNqEGoZZrcH42mTj30e5z3E3W3JLiKhG0sk0tBmebUeLrjyTk8rJtDdETRcLGmm8nwSHUWRYm9NmE2x0SQM8e3aP1Cw_SgQEKNc9JquCtMNxmEta22Us/s320/room2.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-91340536747289406482016-08-31T18:04:00.000-04:002016-08-31T18:05:07.702-04:00Hey. I'm back.While walking, laughing, crying, dancing, and marching in the cemetery this morning, I had an epiphany.<br />
<div>
<br />
I need a selfie drone to follow me and record my attitudinal changes while walking in the cemetery. It occurred to me as I switched from a audible laugh thinking about a book club conversation I had recently with friends (which oddly, had nothing to do with the book) to a teary-eyed suppressed sob as I passed by the taken-too-soon "Always Daddy" headstone. I breathed deeply and leveled out into a stroll under the towering pines, hopped back onto the cemetery proper, and marched up the hill like a soldier.<br />
<br />
I was alone.<br />
I wasn't wearing headphones.<br />
I enjoyed my own thoughts,<br />
And am my own best counsel.<br />
But I felt a little crazy.<br />
<br />
It was then I decided: I'm going to blog again. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Now, I know you're all saying, "<i>Lynne! That's fabulous! We've missed you so</i>!!!" Or maybe not, but frankly, I don't give a damn, my dear. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I blog for me. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And I've been busy. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>Doing what?</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Maybe I'll be able to articulate a quotidian life in a fascinating fashion. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Maybe I won't. We'll just have to find out. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
For now, however, here is a snapchat of me as the Terminator.<br />
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXSkef2nF9HBbT2zG0aM_0MDo6KZcQXh0jBLZg5EIvVvtt4wRfmFpMgbxYFsktIexZM7MyfvJCQI6ndyWRMDGTk7vrQ4frpILlE7umRS6OryYakOTaHNjl1eaDqb-fOa26-ljJ1TxYnIs/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-08-31+at+5.45.05+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXSkef2nF9HBbT2zG0aM_0MDo6KZcQXh0jBLZg5EIvVvtt4wRfmFpMgbxYFsktIexZM7MyfvJCQI6ndyWRMDGTk7vrQ4frpILlE7umRS6OryYakOTaHNjl1eaDqb-fOa26-ljJ1TxYnIs/s320/Screen+Shot+2016-08-31+at+5.45.05+PM.png" width="252" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And, yes. This is the kind of sterling writing and eye candy you can expect from me for the near future.</div>
Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-64304778457990534362015-08-26T06:23:00.000-04:002019-11-03T10:39:40.949-05:00<a href="http://everydayfeminism.com/2015/06/cultural-appropriation-wrong/" target="_blank">Why Cultural Appropriation is Wrong</a><br />
<br />
I might further dissect and integrate this bit of writing later, but I needed quickly to say that the author makes fantastic leaps between individuals celebrating interesting aspects of different cultures (through casual appropriation) and perpetuating oppression.<br />
<br />
There is a deep, dark flaw in thinking that not only allows, but further <i><b>advances</b></i> these leaps in an attempt to shame individuals who have the audacity to embrace looks, behaviors, habits, or practices that a person has chosen for himself regardless of where he first encountered them.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/editorial_opinion/oped/articles/2009/02/27/the_yoga_fatwa/" target="_blank">Why Cultural Appropriation is Right</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://3-ring-binder.blogspot.com/2009/02/our-magpie-culture.html" target="_blank">My take.</a>Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-90570562207368704162015-06-21T13:29:00.000-04:002015-06-21T13:29:30.756-04:00Willful Refusal<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><span style="background: white; color: #555555; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">They say to each of us, black and white alike, that we must
substitute courage for caution.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>They
say to us that we must be concerned not merely about who murdered them, but
about the system, the way of life, the philosophy which produced the murderers.
Their death says to us that we must work passionately and unrelentingly for the
realization of the American dream.</span></b></blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="background: white; color: #555555; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #555555; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">~ Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., September 18,
1963. </span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="background: white; color: #555555; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"> Eulogy for the Young
Victims of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church Bombing</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
I am impressed with the clarity of Dr.
King’s words, sad that our President had to evoke them this week, and ultimately
confused as to why we refuse to recognize their application to the innocent victims
of 9/11, Ft. Hood 2009, or the Boston Marathon 2013. </div>
Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-27636165417312642922014-12-11T15:51:00.000-05:002015-07-18T14:39:14.277-04:00Bad FaithThis recent exchange between a Harvard Business School professor and a bartender/owner of a Chinese Restaurant cracks me up in one regard: this guy is the reason that "douchebaggery" is now a popular word.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.boston.com/food-dining/restaurants/2014/12/09/harvard-business-school-professor-goes-war-over-worth-chinese-food/KfMaEhab6uUY1COCnTbrXP/story.html" target="_blank">Ben Edelman v. Chinese Mom and Pop</a><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
However, and more importantly, this exchange touches upon two important principles that seem lost in the preposterousness of the exchange:<br />
<br />
When a bad law exist, there will always be bad actors to exercise its power.<br />
<br />
The lineage/size/age of your business should never be used as an excuse to mistreat your customer. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.boston.com/food-dining/restaurants/2014/12/10/there-more-edelman-did-this-before-and-worse/00mTW39jcyXb3VNHZoXEYN/story.html?p1=trending_article_page_2" target="_blank">The Backlash</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.boston.com/news/local/massachusetts/2014/12/10/ben-edelman-sorry/KHSxhY6GiT4EgYd4GefEGL/story.html?p1=trending_article_page_3" target="_blank">The Apology</a><br />
<br />
Having written plenty of complaint letters, I sympathize with the lawyer in getting something other than what he thought he paid for. Unfortunately, Mr. Edelman pilloried himself by approaching the matter of a $4 overcharge -- for that's exactly what happened -- as a serious violation of his rights. Unfortunately for him, he knew not only of the Consumer Protection Act, but also that he had "rights" - dammit! - under that statute.<br />
<br />
If he had just approached the matter as "I want to pay what you advertised I was paying" (although there is certainly an argument to be made in favor of the restaurant here as well) perhaps he would happily be eating his leftovers with four more dollars in his pocket rather than suspected of having the littlest dick in the elitist world.<br />
<br />
As far as the bartender/public relations guru of the restaurant goes -- I don't care if you've been in business since the dawn of time and your family is from a colony of lepers (well, maybe I'd care enough to not eat there) -- if you advertise a price, honor it.<br />
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<br />Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-90290310935319892572014-09-22T16:20:00.000-04:002014-09-22T16:20:05.430-04:00This is What a Hero Looks Like<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well-heeled mobs demanding government-forced curtailment of cheap, efficient energy to feed their collective fantasies of "clean" energy have a twisted morality.</div>
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Read Alex's book, <a href="http://smile.amazon.com/Moral-Case-Fossil-Fuels/dp/1591847443/" target="_blank">The Moral Case for Fossil Fuels</a>. </div>
<br />Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-56673238042746150892014-06-02T15:29:00.001-04:002015-07-18T14:39:50.581-04:00Lame-OI really like rereading some of my old blog posts.<br />
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The best part of writing in a personal blog rather than single-issue or advocacy/activism blog is that I've written most of the posts as I speak. I'm rereading my own voice here. It's really, really fun for me to revisit fun me. I like her. In fact, if I <i>weren't </i>already her, I'd want to be her best friend.<br />
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We share so much.<br />
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<br />Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-91097662152118583952014-05-09T13:35:00.000-04:002014-05-09T13:35:55.327-04:00It's Raining Meh.<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/07/us/politics/using-weathercasters-to-deliver-a-climate-change-message.html" target="_blank">This</a>.<br />
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The contradictions jump out of this piece all on their own, but in case you've used your self-preservation-allotment of outrage on something more important today--like the <a href="http://becausestupid.wordpress.com/2014/05/04/real-men-dont-buy-girls/" target="_blank">effetely-met</a> kidnapping of over 200 young women in a Nigerian school nearly a month ago, or the use of the word "compromise" as it should relate to the Constitution-- I'll just point them out for you. </div>
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First, we're told how one weatherman "<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; line-height: 23px;">makes a point of incorporating links between bad weather and climate change into his daily broadcasts.</span>" Then we're told that 8 hand-picked guests were invited to the White House "to spread the word" of the National Climate Assessment. </div>
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Crap. But on par with the proselytizing portion of the religion of Climate Change. </div>
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The article further explains that local weathermen have been shown to be among the most trusted of media figures. </div>
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Okay, now it's getting interesting. </div>
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And . . . </div>
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Sadly for this administration, only a paltry 18% of those most trusted media figures (some meteorologists, some weather broadcasters) believe that there is a connection between man-made activities and climate change.<br />
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BINGO!!!</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 23px;">The broadcasters at the White House on Tuesday not only accept the link, a number of them also prepare their climate-focused broadcasts with help from </span><a href="http://www.climatecentral.org/" style="background-color: white; color: #326891; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 23px;">Climate Central</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 23px;">, a New Jersey-based nonprofit group that creates graphics intended to convey the local impact of climate change for about 100 television stations across the country. Some Climate Central scientists were among those invited Tuesday to the White House.</span></blockquote>
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Then we're told how one weather broadcaster (not to be confused with a meteorologist) goes onto explain how a thousand year rain event happened! And we can expect more of the same! OMG!<br />
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(That doesn't mean it happens once every thousand years, it means that the likelihood of it happening is about 1000:1 in any given year. There's a big difference: the latter is about the size of any storm, the former implies a weather trend.) </div>
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The steam in my coffee (I like a long black) however, is from Jennifer Palmieri, the White House communications director, who says of the gathering, </div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, 'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 23px;">“Trusted messengers are hugely important,'’ Ms. Palmieri said. “No one thinks these meteorologists have an agenda.”</span></blockquote>
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She may have well as added: "So we're going to give them one." <br />
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You can see Climate Central's funding sources <a href="http://www.climatecentral.org/what-we-do/funding/" target="_blank">here</a>. While some of its government funding is apparent, I don't think we'd have to dig too far to find that the the bulk of the other named foundations and institutions are also driven by if not funded by this administration's agenda. Unfortunately, I've run out of self-preservation-allotted outrage to dig any further. </div>
Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-685065582281848343.post-83531429614649417562014-02-07T07:47:00.000-05:002014-02-07T07:48:04.790-05:00Wards of the StateAll your children <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/All_your_base_are_belong_to_us" target="_blank">are belong</a> to us.<br />
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Silly, silly parents. You have this <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N3qtpdSQox0" target="_blank">outdated notion</a> that your children belong to you. They don't. In this special version of the same -- including a presidential attempt to marginalize those who disagree with him -- Paul Reville, former Massachusetts Secretary of Education restates <a href="http://dailycaller.com/2014/02/03/pro-common-core-panelist-the-children-belong-to-all-of-us/#ixzz2sdi3Qpdo" target="_blank">the same</a>.<br />
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Because they attend government schools, your children belong to the government. Yes, you love, feed, house, and nominally guide those children toward adulthood, but the government -- that nameless, faceless collective of local, state, and federal "educators" -- gets to decide <a href="http://blogs.edweek.org/teachers/living-in-dialogue/2013/11/common_core_standards_ten_colo.html" target="_blank">what they learn</a> and <a href="http://fox11online.com/2014/01/31/parents-upset-over-game-played-at-middle-school/" target="_blank">how they learn</a> 180 captive days of every year.<br />
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What's better than that type of thought channelization? They actually <a href="http://3-ring-binder.blogspot.com/2008/03/bs-is-its-middle-name.html" target="_blank">mine the children for data to support future government programs</a>.<br />
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It all works out nicely for the powers that be.<br />
And that, by no means, includes you or those small people you quaintly refer to as <i>your</i> children.<br />
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<br />Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12178771612031280593noreply@blogger.com2