Fake Champagne and Baby Bibs

Ah, the traditions of the New Year. I've purchased two bottles of sparkling white grape juice and one giant veggie platter with ranch and blue cheese dressing for dipping.

There is a 2007 First Baby baby bib stashed in the nursery. (The good stuff is locked away somewhere, I'm sure, awaiting more capable hands and TV cameras for presentation.)

There will be a list of lowcountry nursery phone numbers clipped to the charge nerd...I mean charge nurse...clipboard.

After the swilling of fake champagne and noshing on goodies, we will get back to work and the night will be spent in making and receiving calls.

"Anyone deliver yet?" will be the most frequently asked question of the night. We will watch laboring women like racehorses heading around the back stretch, everyone wanting to be first.

I've only been present for one "first in the county" delivery, so many years ago, I'm sure the baby is in elementary school by now.

It's fun. It adds a little something extra to a routine night.

Ya'll be safe out there!

Loki sez: I'll be watching you! No drinking and driving! Let everyone have a happy new year!

Rest in Peace

Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but what I knew. Poor little guy. He just got worse and worse as the day went on. By the time Chad the vet saw him, I was basically just waiting for a second opinion.

Intestinal tumors, definately one huge one, possibly a second one. No need to do x-rays or blood work, Sutu was practically comatose by then.

As always, not the decision I wanted to make, but the right one to make. I've never had a doubt when it came down to the moment to decide. Every time, I've known that it was the absolute right thing to do. And no different today.

So, we buried him out in the cat cemetary with Miss Kitty and Conan. I let the kittens see his body before we did, it seemed to help Sutu when Miss Kitty died. Thor stayed with him and seemed to recognize what had happened, he sniffed and nuzzled a bit.

Loki, on the other hand, hissed and ran and is still hiding under the bed. I'm half worried because he was the closest to Sutu. But Loki also spent most of the day going in the cabinet where Sutu was hiding, checking on him, so I think he knew something was happening.

So in memory of my scaredy-est of scaredy cats, one of my favorites pictures:

I had planned to spend the day finishing up chores and contemplating a New Year's Resolution blog.

I had not planned to spend the day half preparing myself for the pet owner's Decision.

Sutu the Amazing Shrinking Cat, as you may know, has been losing weight for completely unknown reasons. My wonderful vet has tested him for everything under the sun, but all tests have been negative.

We tried medicine, we tried dietary supplements. We've tried anti-anxiety meds (for the cat, not me).

His weight stablized at about 7 pounds (his normal weight was 10 pounds) and since we could find nothing wrong and he didn't seem to be in any unusual distress (he is one of those extreme scaredy-cats), we just let it be.

Last week, I thought I noticed a little weight gain around his belly. Then a couple of days ago, I really noticed a rounded belly. At first I was pleased, but when I thought about it, it didn't make sense. He is still pretty emaciated and if he were gaining weight, he'd fill in his muscle mass first, not put on a round belly.

Yesterday, I could really feel a round, firm belly. It didn't seem to cause him any discomfort when I touched it, other than a general "stop poking my belly" reaction.

Then this morning, Jason said Sutu didn't come out of his hidey-hole for breakfast. I didn't give it too much thought, I opened the cabinet doors and he looked up at me, bright eyed. I mean, this cat isn't in the best mental health.

But when Jason left for work, Sutu didn't come out to sit on my lap like he usually does. He was just laying there, in the cabinet, not doing much of anything. Three hours later, he is still there. I gave him some water and he took a few drinks, but wouldn't touch the food I gave him.

I called the vet who says I should bring him in this afternoon.

So of course, now I'm in half panic mode. What if's running through my mind. Trying to figure out what I'm going to do if it's something serious. Trying to balance what I want against what would be best for this particular cat.

And I know what that is. If it is anything ultimately fatal, that might be delayed by medical intervention, Sutu won't stand for it. He hides for days after a routine vet visit. He runs in terror when I have to give him a pill. He throws up if furniture is moved to a new position.

I know I'll have to put him down. So I'm preparing myself for that. Jason asked me if I was prepared for that. Yes. No. Yes, I'm prepared to do what is going to be best for Sutu. No, how are you ever really prepared to order the death of a pet?

The least conflicted I've ever felt about it was with my old Miss Kitty, who was almost 17, diabetic, arthritic to the point of hardly being able to walk and in kidney failure. It was a kindness at that point.

And so I'll spend today mentally girding myself for this visit and it'll probably be that he's constipated and just needs to poop and he'll be around for another 10 years or so, happily hiding in his cabinet.

Year in Review

Shamelessly stolen from Geoff.

Very interesting. The resulting Microsoft Word document reminded me of the story told by Philip Roth, in which he found (in a diner I believe) a single page with nineteen sentences written on it. He then used each of these sentences as the first line of his novels.

2006 Kittens on the Keyboard Review:

January 2006:

It's just not fair.

February 2006:

"America is addicted to oil, which is often imported from unstable parts of the world."

March 2006:

My property sits on the banks of Church Creek, a tiny tributary twisting off the Ashley River.

April 2006:

Last Friday evening, to great rejoicing throughout the land, well, throughout the house, Jason found Loki's red and white polka dot ball.

May 2006:

My mom bought me a diary for my tenth birthday.

June 2006:

Jason planted an herb garden in a big wooden tub right outside the back porch.

July 2006:

I watched the shuttle take off yesterday.

August 2006:

Some time back, I wrote an email message to my (well, to the rich, white, male, heterosexual members of the 1st District's) representative, the lovely Henry Brown.

September 2006:

How many people out there knew that while every major news network and every local channel were chasing poor little Ernesto up the coast there was a Category 4 hurricane beating the heck out of the Mexican coast and a Super Typhoon rampaging across the Pacific?

October 2006:

I've been a little sad all summer.

November 2006:

We will be out of town for the next couple of days.

December 2006:

Long, long ago at a hospital far, far away, I was enthralled by a co-worker’s description of her Christmas celebration back home.

Sweetest Picture of 2006:

Loki by JAZ

Just say NO

..to cat nip. You know, it seems harmless and fun. It's legal and cheap in almost any store where cat food and supplies are sold. But it has a dark under belly of matted and unwashed fur. You start out, just a little, for kicks, you know. But some kittens can't say no more, they need to just say NO.

The first hint of a problem is when you start to know the different nips out there. Like that Cosmic Catnip is the bomb. That Hartz shit is okay in a pinch, but the Cosmic is where it's happening. That grocery store crap? Might as well feed it to your granny, nothing but stems and chaff, dude.




The next thing you know, you're bogarting all the nip.




And it seems so good. Dude, look at the water flow, it's so zen. Cos like, we are like water, with our blood flowing and tumbling and trickling within us, just like this fountain. We are creatures of the sea, dude, it is part of us and we are part of it and the salt water in the ocean is the same as the salt in our blood and we belong to the ocean and the earth and it to us. Deewwd.



Dude! Look at this giant mo-fo bug, dude! Right there. On the wall. Whaddaya mean there ain't nothing there? You blind? Dude! Itzz right there, man!




What happened last night? I was grooving on the zen, next thing I know, I wake up, covered in Meow Mix Kitty Catch crumbs.



Only you can prevent nip abuse. It starts with being a good role model.




Note: "Zen Thor" photo by JAZ. The rest, could of been him, could have been me. I'll invoke the usual disclaimer: if it is a good picture, Jason took it. If it's an okay picture, I took it.

Kitten Christmas

Loki the Lookout keeps an eye out while Thor scouts out the Santa booty.

"Wait! I think I hear some one coming! Hide!"

Loki's favorite new toy: Blue Fluff Ball.

Thor inspects the pile of kitten presents.

And selects his favorite: the wrapping paper.

Sigh, there is one in every family.

Random Thoughts

Turkey takes a long time to cook.

Marshmellow robes from Gullah Gourmet. I may never wear clothes again.

I need a real oven.

I hope everyone is having a wonderful day.


Thor sez: Whaddaya mean, Scrooge?

Early Kitten Present

Or, how to have to mop your kitchen floor again.


Thor sez: You touch it!
Loki sez: I ain't touching it, you touch it!


Thor sez: Touch it! I dare you, I double dog dare you, I triple dog dare you!
Loki sez: Okay, okay, keep yer fur on, will ya? I'm touching!


Loki sez: Uh, is this edible?

Once again people think I can cook

No one wanted to have Christmas dinner. So I said, well, the hell with it, I'll just make dinner for the boys and me. Then it started. "Oh, you're doing Christmas dinner?"

Dinner for three has now become dinner for at least six, perhaps eight.

For Pete's sake. Don't these people remember that Thanksgiving? When I had four matching plates? My little two person table? The wobbly card table?

Any way. The menu:

Appetizer:

Lemon-dill shrimp

Main Course:

Rosemary-basil turkey breast
Roast finger potatoes
Sweet potato and cranberry pie
Roasted green beans with shallots and hazelnuts
Mac & Cheese (my mom is baking this - I think it's the law)
Gravy, of course

Dessert:

Bullwinkle cake
Some chocolate thing that my mom makes that just thinking about it 1)makes me gain 5 pounds, 2) pops about twenty zits out on my face and 3) sends my blood sugar sky rocketing.

Well, that's the dream menu in my head. We'll see what happens when I actually have to start cooking all this in my woefully inadequate kitchen with my two feet of counter space and cantankerous stove top stove that I hate.



Loki sez: Can I wear my party hat?

Looking for the next big thing.

I have a great deal of respect for JK Rowlings and found this to be amusing.

I find it amusing because I know what she means. When writing, particularly an emotional harrowing scene, I get that same mix of elation and overwrought emotions. But I don't think I've ever dreamed about my characters during writing.

(I have, after a hectic shift, woken up in a panic, worried that I couldn't watch the babies if I was in my bed sleeping.)

Her series is a perhaps once in a generation success story. All over the world, there are writers who are trying to figure out what could be the "next" Harry Potter. I'm pretty sure it isn't something you can plan.

Here is a semi-secret: literature for young adults/older children is some of the best story-telling you'll find. To hold the attention of children, it better be good.

That's why Harry Potter has crossed all generation lines. It is just darned good story telling. This also holds true for the Narnia Chronicles. And for the lesser known, but better, in my humble opinion, Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials series, with three books: The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spylass. (Warning: if you found Harry Potter objectionable due to religious beliefs, don't read Pullman.)

So if you are bored with your reading materials and looking for something new, head over to the childrens section and look at what they have. It's way better than when I was a kid, when there was practically nothing for ages 12-18.



Sutu sez: I prefer Russian Literature myself, thank you very much. I get to wear my fur hat.

I've been tagged!

Five things people don't know about me? Thanks Jason.

I don't think there are five things people don't know about me. I'm a pretty open book. Too open sometimes, perhaps.

1. In San Francisco, I maxed out my 'food buying' credit card to buy a Blue Meanie statue.

2. I once used a thermos to 'borrow' some water from the Fountain of Youth in St. Augustine, Florida.

3. I used to ride horses for four dollars an hour at the Surprise Acres Horse Farm across Highway 61 from the Springfield Subdivision entrance. Part of the dirt road is still there, but it leads nowhere now.

4. I've fired a 357 Magnum and critically wounded a tree, my elbow, my ear drums and my ass.

5. I once killed a rattlesnake with my mom, a shovel, a hoe and a hell of a lot of screaming in our backyard.

Wow. Deep. Sorry, I'm boring.



Loki sez: I'm shocked. You didn't know you were boring?

The Cruel Whims of Kittens

Ah, the love of a kitten is fleeting. Who would have ever thought that red and white polka dot ball, after almost two years, would fall so far out of favor as to be relegated to a dusty lonely spot behind the couch?

When they seemed like forever buddies?

Poor red and white polka dot ball. Replaced in his prime. Replaced after being lost, found, hidden, found, drooled on, dunked in water bowls, even put in the litter box once (I suspect Thor). All that abuse and still he was the faithful friend.

Then. Loki met puff-ball.

A little beige puff-ball.

Now, nothing but puff-balls will do. Little ones. That can easily be lost. So many lost that I went to the fabric store and bought a bag of 50 just so I could toss out another one when the supply ran low.

Oh, Loki adores his puff-balls. He puts them in places where he has to 'work' to get them out. He pretends he can't find them. He stuffs them under closet doors so he can make a human do the door opening trick.

Poor red and white polka dot ball. How can he compete?




Loki sez: No comment.

Sneezing and Editing

Now, would Driving And Crying have been as successful if named Sneezing and Editing? I think not.

Let me state two things that are indisputable facts in my life.

One I hate and detest editing.

Two I hate when what I think is just a bad allergy day turns out to be an "oh, I'm SICK" day.

But let us combine the two, because I do so love to torture myself. So, ibuprofen on board to beat back the fever delirium, Day-Quill on board to stem the tsunami of snot, hot tea to soothe the savage throat, I begin.

Yank out a random chapter, okay, not so random chapter from The Novel. (Technically, it is a random chunk because, here is a stranger fact: I don't write in chapters. Never have, never have been able to force myself to do so. It ruins my narrative flow. And no, I don't wander all the hell over the place like I think I'm Stephen King or something.)

Enter random chunk into its own little Word document.

Word count: 4100 (and change)

Contest limit: 2500

First massive edit. Word count: 3100. Say a bad word.

Second massive edit. Word count 2800. Say several bad words.

Indulge self in childish, petulant rant about how word limits are bogus and so like totally destroy the entire creative process. I'm an artist, damn it. I shouldn't be forced to follow stupid rules. If I need 2800 words to tell my story, I should have them!

Realize that Sutu doesn't really give a cold hairball for my artistic purity.

Begin massive edit number three.

Update: vicious edit number three complete. Word count: 2389.
Happy dance begun.
Story probably makes no freaking sense now.

Thor sez: Quit yer bitchin' and pick up that red pen.

Cattails

Or...what lengths won't I go to to avoid laundry, dishes and writing?
Super-duper bragging rights to who ever can tell which tail belongs to what cat. (Jason not eligible)

Freaky Friday

To the "person" in Pacifica, California who google searched "pictures of Marie Osmonds titty"s" - get some professional help you sick puppy.

To the MSM who put on pious little sincere faces to assure the family of Sen. Tim Johnson that he was in their prayers before the drool started spattering on telepromters as they gleefully pontificated on what might happen if Mr. Johnson died or was incapacitated - quit your jobs and go in search of your humanity.

To the "mother" in California who left her baby alone in the car, but took her dog in the store with her - way to go, I'll bet you'll get a free membership in PETA.

That's about as grumpy as I can be with a Thor on my lap. Off to finish shopping as soon as he decides he is done with me.



Thor sez: Resistance is futile! Adore me! Now!

I hate to pick on CNN, really, but again they give me no real answer to choose from in the "Quick Vote" today.

Question: Has the E. coli outbreak made you less likely to eat at a Taco Bell?

The only available answers are yes or no.

My answer would be: If Tacho Hell had an E. coli with bubonic plague outbreak (Ebola virus available in certain locations, after 2am), I still could NOT possibly be less interested in eating at one of those....places.

I see that the senator from SD, Tim Johnson, has fallen ill. I hope he gets better.

I wonder how long it will take Pat Robertson to claim that it was a punishment from God for electing a Democrat?

Yesterday, Jason blogged about our less than pleasant experience at the Sunflower Cafe here West Ashley. I have to say that I am probably the most laid back diner in the tri-country area. Mess up my order? Well if what you brought looks better, I just might keep it with a thank-you. Busy and taking a long time? No problem. I have eyeballs, I can see it is busy.

I have never got up and left a restaurant. But this place was not busy. The girl blatantly ignored us. She walked to the table behind ours, caught my eye (Jason had his back to her), asked the people how they were doing, glanced at me again, then turned around and went back to her soda behind the counter.

So, we left.

And ruined my nostalgia buzz in the meantime. That little strip of stores, which used to be the only 'shopping' along the Pierpoint section of Hwy 61, was home to Virginia's Stitching Post. Which was my grandmother's fabric and embroidery store. Miss Juanita also had a miniscule branch of the U.S. Post Office tucked away in one corner. Across from the stores was a Dairy Queen. My brother and I used to wander out to that field (can't believe it hasn't been entombed in concrete yet) and pick blackberries. We would then pool our pennies and dimes and buy some ice cream to go with the berries. Yum.


Loki sez: I'm utterly fascinated. No, please tell me more. I'm hanging on your every word, darling. Positively enthralled.

Yes/No/IsNotHelpful

CNN has on its website a story about a new poll on racism in America. It is very interesting reading.

Then, further down on the page, is the "Quick Vote" they always have. Now, I've rolled my eyes at these questions on numerous occasions because of the idiocy of trying to boil down complex issues into yes or no answers. But this one is so stupid it is shameful.

The question: "Do you like people of your own race more than people of other races?"

CNN should be ashamed of having a question like this on their website. Really. It isn't even possible to answer.

Perhaps this is a huge chunk of the problem. Our urgent desire to glue labels on people as a short cut that allows us to not think, but merely react to what we "read" on a person. How can anyone but the most rabid racist say that they like some unknown person better than some other unknown person based on race? How can CNN even endorse that line of thinking with this stupid question?

My answer to CNN is the choice that they didn't give the American public: I like nice people more than I like mean people. I like people who share my values and ideals more than people who don't. I like people who are funny more than people who aren't. I like people who like furry little creatures more than people who don't. I like people who are interesting and can teach me something about the world or myself or humanity more than people who can't. I like people who read books more than people who don't.

I realize that my answer is too complex for your question, CNN, but I can't help it. People are complex. Human relationships are messy and don't fit neatly into little round "click here" boxes. Deal with it.


Thor sez: I told you if you sang "Ebony and Ivory" one more time, I was gonna whup your behind!

Tuesday Goofiness

Now this is funny.

Dewd! Oh, man, deeewwwddd! He like teefed my weed, dewd!

See, lesson number one for any future (or current) dr...uh...independent pharmacuetical reps...out there.

Never use your product!


Loki sez: Whaaa? The nip is gone, dewd-ette? 'Ssokay, I got my sunbeam. It'ssall kewl.

She's making a list...

checking it twice. Or three times or four, I forget, it all runs together.

Tree decorated. Check.

Minor freak out that Thor ate a decoration. Check.

Christmas knick-knacks up. Check.

Good chunk of shopping done. Check.

Yearly minor psychotic break in which I contemplate a party and/or cooking dinner before coming back to reality that 1) I hate parties and 2) I don't cook. Check.

Christmas wish list from the child. Oh, wait, no check.

Airplane arrival time from the child. Oh, wait, no check.

Hmmm. Where can I buy lumps of coal?

Okay, you have been very good and read through my nonsense. Here is your daily dose 'o kitten, photos compliments of JAZ:

The Dinner Hour


Thor sez: yummy supper!


Thor sez: Patooey! This isn't right!


Thor sez: There has to be a perfect morsel of yumminess for me!


Thor sez: At last! Oh perfect morsel, I have found thee!

The Christmas Tree Inspection

Tis the Season (Still!)

I will admit, here and now, that I am a bad girl. Not a "bad girl", but that I am bad at being a girl. Blame it on growing up with three brothers, blame it on raising a son. Blame it on having surrounded myself all my life with males, from the furbags even down to the guinea pig.

I hate to shop. I despise the mall. I despise gift shops. I despise cutsey little specialty stores. I even hate my grocery store now that they have rearranged all the aisles and it takes me twenty minutes to figure out where they've put the refried beans or some other random food item.

But, tis the season, buy some presents, ho ho ho, mistletoe and cheer. Let's all head out to the mall and max out our credit cards. (Which I do not do, laboring as I still do with my poor-person syndrome. If I don't have cash, I don't need it. And neither do you.)

The night before my shopping jaunt (which more closely resembles a male's know what you want, know where it is, get it, pay for it, and leave routine than a female's oh there might be something I could possibly talk myself into buying over there routine), there was the shoot-out at the Food Court. But since I'd rather eat raw chitlins than mall food, I figured I'd be pretty safe.

HOLY THIRD WORLD COUNTRY BAZAAR, ST NICK!

WTF is up with all the vendors in the mall halls? I couldn't take two steps without being accosted by someone wanting me to touch something or let them spray something on me. I was even chased down by one over eager young man who said he "wasn't going to bite". I think he mistook my expression of extreme annoyance for fear. He better learn some better people reading skills if he wants to survive the holiday shopping season, that's all I gotta say.

So what was so important that he chased me down? He needed to know if I had "natural nails". To which I wished I'd replied by jamming one into his eye socket so he could see it better, but I really just said, "Yes, I'm in health care and that is all I am allowed to have" before stomping off.

Then the same girl who tried to spray me only five minutes before (I had to actually dodge the spray cloud and tell her I had allergies) came at me again. "I STILL HAVE ALLERGIES," I said, mentally adding the "you stupid twit ass bitch" because I didn't think it would earn me any good karma points.

Next time I'll take my chances dodging bullets in the Food Court.


Thor sez: I don't see any presents under the tree!

Answer of the Day

Although Loki will sit on a lap and curl up beside a human (or two) on the couch, he does NOT like to be held! And in this case, held until he gives a "giant King Kong meow".

Unlike Thor who now expects to be tossed over my shoulder and toted around like a sack of potatoes.

Question of the Day

What horrible CATastrophe is befalling Loki?
A. He has just been told there will be no second supper today.
B. He has just learned that all the world's puff balls will disappear at midnight.
C. He is being held.
D. Thor is eating all the catnip.

Tis the season

I usually try to get all my Christmas shopping done before Thanksgiving. This year, however, I was disabled by an intense case of profound laziness. So I set out this morning with the intent to finish all my shopping today. Before noon if possible.

The first store I went to was closed. The second store I went to was closed. What is up with opening at 10am. That is so wrong. Beyond wrong. So. They don't get none of my $$$

Third store did not have what I was looking for. Fourth store only had one thing I was looking for. Fifth store was so overheated I about had a stroke and had to leave.

So. I failed in my quest.

I did, however, see 23 people talking on cell phones. One blond lady in Barnes and Noble has an elderly grandmother who is worried about getting some presents to somebody in time. Thanks for sharing at the top of your lungs while I was trying to browse.

I witnessed unnecessary snottiness to a clerk by some fat chick who should not wear pink. You know, just because you can be snotty doesn't mean you should.

Then there was the young "lady" in the SUV who blared her horn at the 110 year old old lady who was just trying to get her Flying Dutchman of a car straight in its parking space and when little old lady didn't move fast enough to the constant blare of the horn, young "lady" powered down her window and added a finger gesture just in case anyone in West Ashley may have missed how annoyed she was.

Tidings of comfort and joy my ass. People need to get a grip.



Loki sez: Um, I've changed my mind. I don't want to play kill the sock monster anymore.

Another reason breast is best...

you can keep your children alive when stuck in a snow bank for a week without food or water.

Try that when your Good Start with 'comfort proteins' runs out.



Thor sez: Notify LeLeche, tell 'em you gotta new motto for them!

(Photo by JAZ)

Working on the Night Shift..

How I feel on night three:










What I want to do right now:











How I'll feel at 7:30 am:











What I'll be doing by 8:30 am:

Strangers to ourselves?

There is a line (or two) in KT Tunstall’s song Miniature Disaster that has me replaying it again and again, in awe of its simplicity.

“Coz it’s a hindrance to my health,
if I’m a stranger to myself”

It is a profound truth dressed way down.

At some point in life, one must turn away from the world. Away from parents, lovers, friends and the distractions and diversions of this modern world and look inward for the answers we have sought in the greater world.

Perhaps this is why so many women (myself included) have found their forties to be the best times of their lives. Perhaps because by then we have come to know ourselves, what we want and what we need. We’ve grown the confidence to unapologetically seek out what will make us whole and happy.

We are no longer strangers to ourselves.


Thor sez: Enough about you silly humans! Adore me! Now!

Sleigh bells ring, Part 2

Long, long ago at a hospital far, far away, I was enthralled by a co-worker’s description of her Christmas celebration back home. Back home being one of those states that has too many vowels, snow, and people with rosy Germanic cheeks.

She was teary eyed and breathless as she described the family traditions. Decorating the tree, making eggnog, attending midnight church services. Caroling, for Pete’s sake, in the freaking snow, door to door, getting mugs of hot chocolate. Home made presents, the annual gag gift. Matching sweaters. Christmas dinner. Love and cheer.

From the look of co-worker #2 who was listening in, we both had the same idea: this chick was nuts, living in some sort of Christmas commercial family land.

“You call that Christmas?” I asked.

“That isn’t Christmas. Who got drunk? Who cried? Who told who what they weren’t supposed to? Who had a screaming match? Who stormed out, swearing they’d never come back to this f***ed up place ever again? Who stood in the middle of the living room begging for everyone to just please stop fighting for one hour so we could have a nice Christmas for once?”

“Now, that’s Christmas.”

Co-worker #2 just nodded.


Loki sez: You aren't going to try to make me wear that reindeer antler hat again, are you?

Rarely do my schizoid liberal/conservative tendencies get see-sawed up and down with merely one glance at the headlines at cnn.com

Conservative:

Headline (they've changed it since): Police taser sixth grader.
(It has since been amended to add that he was attacking a girl.)

My reaction: Why didn't they include the information that this was a 200 pound boy beating up a girl. That the boy did not obey the police orders to stop?

See, if the police give you a lawful order, obey it or prepare to be maced, tasered or shot. The police are the front line of our civilization. This democracy we have is nothing but an accepted ideal that we will all behave in certain ways and follow the laws we have put in place to safeguard our pursuits of life, liberty and happiness. Law breakers are directly challenging this ideal and the police have the poorly paid job to deal with them. To protect us. Let's stop painting them as the bad guys all the time. (Yes, I know, some of them have been abusive and racist. So have teachers and nurses and doctors and sales clerks and lawyers and business owners - remember nothing is all or nothing)

Liberal:

Headline: SeaWorld Whale Has History of Attacks

Okay. Here is the thing. The trainer chose to be there, performing for the crowds. The whale did not. Period. If you chose to work with wild animals, be prepared to accept responsibiility for putting yourself in harm's way when they act like wild animals. If a wild animal has attacked before, don't use it in performances anymore. When man takes an animal and domesticates it or imprisons it outside its natural habitat, then man is responsible for the proper care and treatment of that animal. And that includes recognizing its limitations.


Thor sez: Freeze you vile miscreant!
Loki sez: I didn't do nothing. It's my cousin's nip. No, I don't know his name or where he lives. But it's his nip. I ain't never seen that nip before in my life.