|
||||||
 |
Recent Posts | Search by username | |
Contact Us | |
Login | |
Register |
 |
 |
|||||
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
| Moderated by: 24HourNut | Page: 1 2   |
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Author | Post | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
Saint Forum-Blogger© Pioneer100© Member  Polymath
|
  |
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Introduction As a teacher, it is my job to daily assess personalities, societal trends, and the values of our population. In addition, I like to keep track of science and the impact it has on our civilization. So my blog will address the things that I experience in a school for alternative children in a poverty stricken state deep in the Southwest of our country. I will write about the trends of technology which impact our society and my personal opinions of the positive and negative natures of these trends. True Blue Men This is a place and time where I know that my words will be heard and thought about, so the first thing I'd like to address is the modern myth concerning my gender, American males. Let's get this out of the way right now, I've never cheated on a girl in my life and I never will. Not in high school, not in college, and not in my adult life. There is a movement afoot in this country that somehow not only is cheating somewhat acceptable, especially in hardship cases, but all men are doing it. Many people assume, and this is supported by the movies, TV, and common mythology, that men are slaves to their sex drives. It's also true that there are enough prominent examples out there (even a president!) to give even the most skeptical person pause. But nothing could be more false. Most of the men I know, and I'd venture to bet that most of the decent men in America, no matter their religion or creed, have a core value system. Call it dignity, honor, personal self-worth, or even the "Code of the West", most men do not and will never cheat on a girl. Written into the souls of these males who call themselves "men" are a few hard, never-to-be-crossed lines: 1. I am responsible for my family. 2. I will never hit a girl. 3. I will not cheat on a girl. 4. I will not compromise my honor or integrity. The men who follow those rules, and live by them, have a heart that is what I have labeled, "True Blue." This core decency and respect for those we care for is very obvious to any who speak or interact with us. It would come through to you instantly, were you to ever meet one of us on the street. As a matter of fact, I believe that most men have it, despite what you see on TV. To us, to suggest that we betray the trust of those that we love and care for is to suggest that we betray our very nature. For one of us to break this bond we have with ourselves is to turn our backs on everything we are. I'll be honest here: I have encountered situations many, many times in the past where I was tempted to cheat. I'm 6' 1", broad-shouldered, blonde-haired and blue-eyed. People who know me tell me I look like Robert Redford and sound like Johnny Cash. I've worked occupations that are almost virtual breeding grounds for this behavior too, fighter pilot and rock guitarist, radio DJ and corporate manager. I'd be a liar if I said that the thought of cheating never crossed my mind, especially in the light of some of the incredibly attractive and intelligent women I've met in a very storied and diverse life. But I am telling the honest truth when I say that each time that thought stuck me, I found it distasteful and appalling in a place that is at the very core of my being. I knew that to give in to such thoughts, much less the actual act, was not just weak, but abhorrent to my very soul. Were I to do so, I knew that I would never again be who I am. My "true blue" heart has helped me through most of my life to avoid this kind of dilemma, but now I have something that makes it even less likely... I finally found someone I truly love. My wife and I are so deeply in love that we cannot go anywhere without holding hands. I can't leave for work without kissing her face in her sleep. Each meeting at a restaurant is treated as a first date by both of us. (We never go in the same car, we meet each other there and flirt with each other as if we are still going steady, then we race each other home, weaving and dodging throught traffic, laughing all the way. On cold days, I build a roaring fire in the fireplace and we cuddle on the couch and watch old romantic movies on Turner Classic Movie channel, then we play videogames together till long into the night. I sing and play the guitar for her and she paints paintings for me. We take turns cooking for each other. When the weather turns nice, we swing on the tree swing behind our house. We sit out in the jacuzzi at midnight and listen to oldies as we count the stars, We float down rivers on inner tubers, we see movies together, we go camping, we ride bikes, we swim everday together (but that's geting harder to get her to do because of the horrible scars), we play pool and cards and trivial pursuit and ...a million other things. We are each other's best friend, confidant, and lover. When she is ill, I am at her side in the hospital every waking moment I am not at work. I take her stuffed animals, (which reminds me, I really need to do something about them, they are taking over the back bedroom!) and read to her. I tape our favorite shows and bring a VCR to her room so that we can watch them together. I hold her hand and watch over her as she sleeps. Deep down, (and we never talk about it) we both know that our time together will be cut heart-breakingly short. We didn't meet each other until we were in our mid-thirties, something we both lament. But to us, that just means that each hour, each minute, each second is more precious than the most beautiful diamond. Like a flower that is cut, our days together are numbered, but all the sweeter for it. So to you who are reading this, the next time someone propounds the fact that all men are sleazes and willing to jump into bed with any girl who asks, think carefully about your decision and ...take a stand against an untrue, unproductive, and malicious myth.
 A^2 + B^2 = C^2 |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Saint Forum-Blogger© Pioneer100© Member Polymath
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
today's topic is what I call The Climate of Education and I've got a ton of things to say about that. Let's start with an overview of my job. I teach at the Transition Academy: http://fc.fms.k12.nm.us/~jives The Transition Academy is basically an educational trauma center, an educational "M*A*S*H unit, if you will. I work with kids that are retained in the eighth grade. The students that come to my school are perfectly normal in IQ, they are not learning diabled or behavior disordered. Life just got in the way. One of the provisions of No Child Left Behind was that parents can no longer override the schools concerning retention in the 8th grade. (They can also only override retention one time in the first 8 years.) This is a very, very good thing. However you feel about NCLB it is giving power back to teachers that was misguidedly taken away in the "feel good" 60's and 70's. When I was going to school in Montana, there was always one kid in the 6th grade who was six feet tall and had a moustache. If you asked anyone what was up with him, the answer was "Oh, that's Joe, he got held back." The deterrent factor of that absolutely cannot be underrated. In those days students would do anything to make sure that they did not get "held back." Everyone knew you were expected to get A's and B's. C's and D's meant you were the dumb kid and you would most likely get teased about it. But no one, would take a chance of getting an "F" because that could rip you from your peer cohort and destroy your life. The result? Students almost never got retained, education was taken seriousl by both families and students, and America experienced a technological revolution unparalleled in mankind's history. Name something you think is cool. Aviation? Space? Television? Computers? The climate of education in America at that time caused a revolution in those industries. Then came the Humanists and the Whole Language Proponents. Their philosophy was "Do not allow anything in the classroom that would possibly hurt a student's self esteem." Although this may seem like a worthy goal, it's completely unrealistic and even dangerous. The result was grade inflation and social promation. Don't hold Joe back! that could damage his self esteem! Really? Well how damaged will he be when he graduates from high school with no marketable skills and an inability to hold a job and support a family? Tell all the students they are good kids, even if they are bullying others and destroying the school. It's not their fault, they had tough backgrounds. Do not allow competition in the classroom, that will make the underachievers feel bad about themselves.There, there now, it'll be OK, everyone will get an "A" on this assignment if they try, regardless of the quality. Really? No competition? No rewards for excellence? No recognition of effort? Everybody is good, I'm OK you're OK? Is that really the way the world works? Absolutely not! Students the leave the school system were in for a big shock when they suddenly found that the entire planet was competetive![/e] An adult in this world has to compete for literally everything! Jobs, housing, mates, and even food! Parents were given the power to override all decisions that teachers made unilaterally. Now think about it...that's just a bad idea. I know that most people think that being a teacher is easy and anyone could do it. After all, we all went to school, didn't we? (Although I wouldn't presume to walk up to another professional, such as a welder, and tell them that they were doing their job wrong!) But the fact is, there is much more to being a good teacher than most people know. What is especially true is that just knowing a lot about something does not mean that you are capable of teaching it to others. So parents overrode decision after decision. (Which makes about as much sense as telling your doctor you don't want him to set a broken leg.) The result? You see it today. The Climate of Education in this country deteriorated. A whole generation graduated high school seriously deficient in the actual skills it takes to keep a nation at the forefront of progress. Worse yet, since they couldn't get good jobs and still had to make a living, instead of more schools, we began to have to build more and more prisons! Thankfully, that is changing today. The process is slow, and seriously flawed. Standardized testing is one problem, what if you have a stomach ache that day? Or your parents were fighting? Or just got divorced? Is it right to stamp a number on a human being and consider them categorized? But that's a topic for another day. The good news is that the balance of power is swinging back in favor of teachers. Acountibility is the watchword of the day. There Tomorrow: Parenting: is it possible in a modern world?
A^2 + B^2 = C^2 |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Saint Forum-Blogger© Pioneer100© Member Polymath
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
The Separation of Church and State About this time of year, as I'm shopping at Wal-Mart, I usually over hear conversations like this: Woman 1: "There's more gang violence this year." Woman 2: "yeah, I wish those teachers would get off their butts and teach these kids some manners!" Woman 1: "Most of those teachers are just socialists and commies. They just want to brainwash the kids, not strainten them out." Woman 2: "Yeah, I always say that they need to teach religion in school! That would straighten those hoodlums out! Put the fear of God in 'em!!" Hold it right there...I understand their frustration with gang violence (heck, I had a bullet put into my mailbox last year for expelling a gangster!) but they are so far off the beam that they don't even realize what they are saying now. OK. Let's look at their argument for a second. What religion should we teach? Buddhism? Hinduism? Islam? Oh, of course! “In God We Trust!” It’s got to be Christianity! the U.S. is overwhelmingly Christian after all. (Although I do know a very nice Hindu family, aren't they an important part of our little country?) Fine, which version of Christianity should we teach? Lutheran? Presbyterian? Baptist? Methodist? Catholic? (It is the oldest after all) Are Mormons Christian? (They sure think they are!) Are you starting to get my point? No matter what the schools did, they'd never please everybody. Perhaps they’re worried that Christian values and morals aren’t being taught to young people. They shouldn’t worry another second. Every American teacher I've ever met has modeled and practiced nothing but the best of Christian virtues: honesty, integrity, respect, and dignity. "lead by example, " is the best policy and teachers practice it every single day without fail. But who will teach religion if not the schools, you ask? Simple. The family and the Church. Who better to teach these things than the people that care the most about the children, their parents. Where better to learn than the Church? The Pilgrims came to America because they didn't like their religion being controlled and dictated by the state. George Washington didn't like it. Thomas Jefferson didn't like it. Trust me, you won't like it either.
A^2 + B^2 = C^2 |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Saint Forum-Blogger© Pioneer100© Member Polymath
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Is Violent Music bad for Children? Well the word is out this week that music with sex-laden lyrics have a positive correlation to teen pregnancy and sexual promiscuity. Who would have guessed it? This is the very thing that was absolutely apparent and completely common sense to our grandparents, but takes a survey and scientific analysis to be proven to us. So now that this has been proven, how about we spend a few hundred thousand dollars and research the effect of violent music on younger people? What do you think we'll find? Again, it should be common sense, "garbage in, garbage out," as my mother used to say. What she was referring to was the fact that what you read, watch, and listen to does have an effect on you subconscious and your day to day decision making processes. It is a part of you, for better or worse. I used to argue this every day with her, especially the corollary, "The clothes make the man," and her favorite, "You'll go deaf if you listen to that stereo so loud." Well, I am approaching 50 years old, as I dressed up in my Piere Cardin suit the other day to meet with a principal of another high school, I realized that my wife was shouting something at me from the kitchen but I couldn't make it out. That's when it hit me...you were right Mom...and you didn't even need scientific evidence. So today I'd like to say a little about violent music and videogames. Now, before you flame me, you'd better realize that I am a gamer. I've played almost every game on every system since the Atari 2600 came out. I know videogames. I know music too, I play guitar, I have an extensive music collection, and have even (shortly) played in a band before. So when I say that there must be a line that we as a society should not cross, I know what I'm talking about. My favorite "band to blame" is the hard core band Insane Clown Posse. Is it a coincidence that the last four female students that became pregnant while in school were rabid fans of ICP? Not according to that study! Nor is it a coincidence that by far the number of disciplinary referrals and violent incidents I've seen in my educational career involved fans of this band. A typical ICP song carries the traditional, "I don't care about anyone" theme that goes back as far as Black Sabbath. That doesn't bother me. What does bother me though is that this band incites violence towards innocent bystanders. ICP lyrics exhort teens to "stab the mailman," jump on the old guy's head until he's dead,' and a host of other explicit acts that go so far over the top that they are almost comical. Videogames like "GTA: San Andreas" encourage teens to beat up hookers, kill pedestrians, and shoot police officers. To me...that crosses the line. Now, I know what you are going to say: "No one in their right mind would take this stuff seriously, it's just music." Really? Tell that to the group of ten year olds that stomped another child to death on the playground in Norway because they saw it on "Power Rangers." Sure, I'll even admit that I watched uncounted hours of the "Bugs Bunny / Road Runner" show and never once dropped an anvil on anyone's head. But I will say that when I'm listening to Frank Sinatra and driving down main street, I am mellow, driving the speed limit, and letting others pass and change lanes. But put in my "Rammstein" CD and I begin to change. I swear at other drivers. I speed up. I cut people off and get frustrated. I weave from lane to lane. In short... I turn in Mr. Hyde. Some may argue that this a "freedom of speech" issue. I'm not buying that. Your rights end where mine begin. You don't have the freedom to yell "fire" in a crowded theater. Why? Because my right not to get trampled to death overturns your right to free speech. This is similar. Your right to listen to violent hate music is superceded by my right to make is home safely in traffic with you. I'm not suggesting that we begin to censor and ban all violent music. ( Heck, even the National Anthem is a song about a battle.) but I am saying that we as a society do ourselves a disservice to let violence and hate go unchecked and unlimited. We must draw a line somewhere so that the "better angels of our nature" will have a chance. A fighting chance! Last edited on 10:45 pm by Saint A^2 + B^2 = C^2 |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Saint Forum-Blogger© Pioneer100© Member Polymath
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
The Tort System I have this funny thing.... it’s called a conscience. It bugs me sometimes, usually right before or after I do something wrong. Apparently, some other people are lacking this particular personality trait and I find this appalling. I don't think I was born with it, as I seem to remember doing some rather heinous things as a boy, chopping Mom's counter tops with a butcher knife to see the pretty pattern and relieve my boredom, electrocuting grasshoppers, and other such childish games. I also seem to remember that I gradually acquired a conscience by suffering consequences for my actions, imposed by two older people I lived with, who called themselves, "My Parents." My conscience can cost me sometimes...sometimes real money. Here's an example. I was walking one day in my apartment complex in Phoenix. I was on my way to the pool, which was just a few yards from my door. I didn't wear shoes that day, since the pool was so close and the sidewalks led literally right to it. I wasn't paying too much attention to where I was stepping, so I didn't see the rusted piece of metal, part of an expansion joint between two slabs of concrete, which was sticking up like a razor blade in my path. As I swung my foot across it, it slashed the bottom of my foot open from toes to heel, all the way down to the bone. I gasped in surprise and amazement, and staggered, limped, hopped back to my apartment. If you've never felt the bones of your foot touching concrete, be happy, it isn't pleasant. I sat in the bathtub, trying to tape the huge wound shut. I was having trouble; since I had lost so much blood that I was a little "tipsy.” I called a friend of mine to come over and help me. When he arrived, he turned pale as a ghost at the sight of the bathroom. It probably looked like a psychopath had been slaughtering pigs in it. Blood was everywhere, on the walls, the floor, and the tub had very little white left. I told him, "Dude, I cut myself, I need you to stitch it up, 'cause I can't see what I'm doing!" He took one look, gasped, and said, "You gotta be kidding! I can see the bone. Dude! You gotta go to the hospital for this one!" I replied, "I can't, I don't have any money right now, and my car is busted." (He didn't have a car either.) Then he had an idea, "Hey! I'll go get the landlord, they are probably insured for this kind of thing!" I tried to stop him, thinking it was futile, in my experience; landlords never helped people, only took their money and got mad at them when they painted their skateboards in the apartment. The landlord returned, took one look at the wound, (and by this time I was feeling pretty "happy") and told my friend, "Don't worry, we have insurance, I’ll drive him to the hospital.) I thought the hospital would be a good thing, but I forgot something. There are as many nerves in your foot as in your hands, more maybe. The doctors tried everything they could think of to deaden the foot, Lydocaine, Zylocaine, Mytocaine, they even tried spraying Novocaine right into the wound itself. But every time they would ask, "Can you feel that?" My agonized answer was "Yeeessssssssss!" Finally they just gave up torturing me and set to stitching it up. The wound healed beautifully! Since the slash was razor sharp, the edges were clean and there was barely a scar there within a month. Then one day.... a man came up to me at the gas station I was managing at the time. I'll never forget the day. I was standing in the cool morning sunlight, washing down the tarmac, when he walked up, rumpled blue business suit and all. He said, "Do you know where I might find Jon St. Ives?" To have a little fun with him, as I was wont to do when I was younger, I replied in my best English, " I am the person to whom you refer." His face took on a surprised look, followed quickly by a dejected expression. I instantly understood the situation. He was a legal man. He had been hoping I was an unintelligent, easily duped, blue-collar worker. He recovered quickly, but the cat was already out of the bag. "Mr. Ives, I'm from the insurance company that insures your apartment complex, I've come to discuss the compensation for your accident. Do you have time right now?" I despise beating around the Bush, especially with people I perceive to have only their own interests at heart and not mine. So I replied, "Let's cut to the chase, shall we? How much money are you offering?" He replied, "What do you think your pain and suffering was worth?" (They must teach these guys never to give an offer first, sheesh!) I studied his face. He was sweating profusely, getting more and more worried by the second. Apparently, he had figured out by now that he was dealing with a keen intellect, despite the dirty gas station rags that camouflaged it. I said, "The pain was incredible, and it's possible that I will walk with a limp for the rest of my life." That was a complete lie, the foot felt as good as new already. But to tease him a little, since I saw his brow furrow with even more worry, I said, "I don't think I will require anything as exorbitant as a million dollars. One hundred thousand dollars will most likely cover everything." I had been joking, of course, but I saw something then that shocked and amazed me...He was actually relieved! I knew in an instant that I could have actually asked for and received a million dollars, perhaps even more. Then it happened...my damn conscience. It started speaking to me. Screaming actually. My foot was fine; to take that kind of money would be a crime, it said. You'll never be able to look yourself in the mirror, it said, Theif! It cried, until I wanted to hold my hands to my ears. With a bit of wistfulness, I looked the man squarely in the eye. He was already saying something about, "That would be fine with his organization, and would I please just sign this statement, guaranteeing me the money, but forbidding me from trying to get any more later?" Then I heard my own voice speak; it seemed without my volition, "Mister, I'm not being serious. My foot's fine, it's healed completely, and in my family, we don't take money that we don't earn and don't deserve. My medical bills amount to $2000 dollars, and I'd like an extra $1000 for my pain so I can fix my car and still have enough to throw a party for my friends. That's it." I don't think I've ever seen another human being as incredulous as the Insurance Man. Then or now. His jaw hung open and slack with amazement. He stammered, "Ya, ya, you mean that you don't want $100,000 dollars? You only want $3000?" "Yes, that's what I want. Just enough to take care of the bills. No more than is fair." He hurriedly filled out the forms, as if he was afraid I might suddenly change my mind, or someone might come along and talk some sense into me. I signed them then and there. He handed me a check for the exact amount I had requested and then turned to leave. Before he left, though, as he walked away, I saw one more thing. He turned towards me, with a thoughtful look, and took one last glance at me in my dirty gas station rags, as I stood there in the morning light, hands on hips. A slow smile spread across his face and something else, a look of respect. As if he had never imagined he would find someone like me, but had after all. He gave me a slow, respectful little bow and then walked slowly away. I've thought a lot about that day since then.... How would my life have changed had I taken the money? What if I had asked for the whole million? I sure would have gotten it, but how would I have felt. I feel now, more and surer as I grow older, that I dodged a bullet that day. That, by being true to myself, I somehow passed a test. I thing's for sure. When I shave in the morning, I can look myself right in the eye...and smile.;) So what do you think about people who file frivolous lawsuits, for example the woman who tried to defraud Wendy's, the burglar who sued the homeowner or the man who sued Winnebago because cruise control didn't keep him on the highway? We've lost a lot of things to this kind of mentality. Long-chained swings on the playground, merry-go-rounds, diving boards in hotel pools, jungle gyms...and much more. There was a time when people realized that life was inherently risky, and personal responsibility was the rule of the day. Can we get that back again? Or is it gone forever? Last edited on 10:46 pm by Saint A^2 + B^2 = C^2 |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Saint Forum-Blogger© Pioneer100© Member Polymath
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Just Another Quick Thought I was also thinking after telling that story that one of the greatest evils of modern society is the Insurance Company. Things like merry-go-rounds and Teeter totters are a God-given right to children. Who here doesn't remember the incredible fun and horror of watching someone get sucked under one? Or being at the top of a teeter-totter and having the person on the other end jump off? It's a part of life! If the insurance companies get their way, someday we will all be sitting in our living rooms playing with clay. Because everything else will have been deemed "to dangerous for us" and will have been taken away.
A^2 + B^2 = C^2 |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Saint Forum-Blogger© Pioneer100© Member Polymath
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
In Sickness and in Health, 'Till Death Do Us Part When people take marriage vows, I have a feeling that many of them do not understand just how binding and important those vows can be. Maybe that's why there are so many divorces these days. When it comes time to live up to the vow, many people find that ...they just don't have it in them. That strikes a chord with me. You see....my wife had terrible health problems when she married me. She had already had two bowel resections and a complete hysterectomy as well as a long history of other ailments. I met her during a period of relative health for her and never suspected she had problems at all....and she didn't tell me for fear she would lose me. We dated for a year, and then married. That's when the health problems resurfaced and they've been an uphill battle ever since. She's had TIAs, strokes, four more surgeries, each worse than the last. She's troubled by horrible post-traumatic syndrome thanks to an abusive marriage in her youth, and of course like anyone in her position, she has terrible insecurity and is constantly worried she will lose me. She suffers horrible nightmares, her circulation is so bad that parts of her body die off occasionally and have to be nursed back to health painstakingly. We've been to 14 doctors, six hospitals, and innumerable specialists. She has been hospitalized, for periods greater than a month, over 110 times in the last 13 years that we have been married by my counting. It's 13 years later now, I've been bankrupted, I work 3 jobs to make ends meet, and yet even with my stable and dependable job, over $1,000,000 worth of health bills loom in the future. The future is unbelievably bleak. Her health continues to deteriorate, she will die, not too soon, but not too much later either. I give her slightly over 15 years, perhaps less with her heavy smoking, about the time I will retire. At that time, all that I have built in my life, my savings, my car, my very home may be forfeit for the bills. I may end my life dead broke after a lifetime of work. (I've only been unemployed for a total of 7 days since I was 15). After lifetime of striving and grappling, I will most likely end my life a ward of the state, destitute and alone. You'd most likely think this prospect would depress me. You might also be wondering why I stayed with her for so long at the sacrifice of my own entire life and future, despite her deception, and never bailed to save myself. That would be love. when I said, "in sickness and in health" like everyone else, I assumed that I would get way more health than sickness, but that hasn't turned out to be the case. A vow is a vow, however. And I don't intend to break it. The good Lord knows I thought of it often, but each time I was reminded just how much she means to me, and that without her, life itself might be more comfortable, but would be infinitely pointless. I have no regrets, I've lived a life of adventure that most men can only dream of, from the high stratophere of near space to the gutter, from the pinacle of the corporate world, to the depths of jail, from....well, you get the picture. So I have held on to her, cherishing every single second that I get with her. A thousand times at her bedside, as I looked at her gray skin and closed eyes, listened to her shallow breathing and watched her sunken features, I have asked the Lord to grant me just one more hour, just another day, a month, a year.... And each time he has relented and let me have her for just a little more time. (I'm kind of selfish that way.) So when I die, others may see my final years as tragic, not me. It was all worth it.
A^2 + B^2 = C^2 |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Saint Forum-Blogger© Pioneer100© Member Polymath
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Will Bureaucracy Be the End of Civilization? As I get older and civilzation gets more entrenched, (America is still pretty young after all) I'm finding that bureaucracy is playing a larger and larger part in my life. I deal with it every day in a huge school system where no one seems to know what the others are up to and even after running my school for six years, other teachers still ask me, "What school are you from? I never heard of that one." The tendency to become departmentalized and isolated does not seem related to business, however. Why? Because they must innovate , communicate and turn a profit. (No cracks about schools not innovating please. We know it, but we're working on it.) The Government and the State, on the other hand, have absolutely no reason to be easy to work with. Why should they? It's obvious that politicians and elected leaders like school board members must pander to the people's wishes a bit if they want to keep their jobs, but that is absolutely false when you are talking about the average local, state, or federal employee. Being customer-friendly or communicative only increases the workload for these people and being human, they try to avoid that as much as possible. They don't have to worry about being fired for incompetence or even rude behavior. Why? Because they most likely, barring extreme misconduct, have their jobs for life. Systems such as greivance, tenure, and mediation insure that even in extreme cases, they will not lose their job. Add to that what we New Mexicans call the "Good 'Ol Boy" system where each employee, including bosses looks after each other and you have a juggernaut of uncaring, unfeeling, uncooperative people. It works like this: Let's say you are treated badly by a state employee. You decide to complain. Now you must see their supervisor. In many cases, that person is either related to the person whom you have a problem with or knows that family. State crews are notorious for being closely-knit. (See: Police - The Blue Wall) Your complaint will be listened to, documented, and disposed of the second you leave. All traces and evidence removed. Even if the supervisor does not have personal reasons to nullify your complaint, the evaluation process guarantees that too many complaints such as this will cost him his job. Since he needs literally reams of documentation to remove a state employee, and that employee will most likely sue and get re-instated anyway, the best solution for him is, again, to pacify then ignore you. After a set amount of time, the momentum of these organizations makes this behavior entrenched. Then you get ridiculous behavior such as my next little story: I noticed my driver's license was due to expire on 10/2. I had previously tried to renew it, but was told that they no longer allowed people to renew too early, you had to wait until it was within 90 days of expiration. (Bureaucracy) So I waited until I got a notice in the mail and proceeded to go down to the office. As usual, I expected a 2 to 3 hour wait, that's pretty much normal for our little town of 50,000. (We only have one DMV office and it is usually staffed by only 4 people, despite having 8 windows. ) Well, things had changed in the 4 years I had been away. They now had a line to see a woman who would give you a number so that you could wait in line. Typically bureaucratic, eh? After about an hour of waiting, a woman came out and told everyone, "If you are waiting to get your Driver's License, the computers just went down statewide." There was a little grumbling, and I politely asked, "About how long do you expect them to be down?" Attendant: "I don't know." Me:"How long are they usually down?" (sneaky of me, since she now had to admit to everyone that the computers went up and down all the time.) Attendant: "Usually about two hours."(blissfully unaware she had just admitted to incompetence.) Not satisfied, I asked, "Have they been down previously today?" Attendant: (forgetting her crowd) "Oh yes, they go up and down all day long." (Then she suddenly saw that the crowd was glaring at her.) Attendant: (now snippy and scowling after realizing I was turning the crowd against her.)"You can wait if you want, but it's up to you." Me: "I'll take my chances." Well I waited another hour, but the computers never came back online. Now I had a problem, my license was due to expire in two days, and unfortunately, that was a Sunday. Like all good State-run operations, with complete disregard to their customers, the DMV didn't open on the weekends and closed at 4:00pm everyday before anyone could get out of work. So I asked the woman at the counter: Me: "Do you suppose I could get a piece of paper stating that your computers were down today?" Woman: "Why?" Me: "Well, so in case I get pulled over on Monday coming here, I won't get in trouble." Woman:" No, just talk to the judge." Me: "But if you'd just give me a statement, I could avoid wasting the city's time and money." Woman: (sarcastically) "You had 90 days to take care of this." Me: (indignant)"And I'm HERE inside the 90-day window. I took care of my responsibility to get here, you're not taking care of your responsibility to renew my license." Woman: (apathetic) "That's not my problem." Me: (exasperated) Yes...yes it is. That's your responsibility." Woman: (rolling eyes) "No, it's not." Me: (trying to be polite) "Look...what am I supposed to tell the officer if I get pulled over?" Woman: (grinning viciously)"Don't get pulled over." So I returned on Monday, looking over both shoulders to make sure I wasn't being tailed, and being scrupulously careful not to speed. After another 3 hour wait, I was finally in front of the "woman" again. Woman: "Well you're in luck! The computers are up today!" Me: (heavy sarcasm) "Yes, what incredible luck." Woman: "May I have your old license?" Me: "Here it is." Woman: "This license is expired." Me: (with eyes burning with nuclear fire.) "Yes it is. But let's not go there, shall we?" Woman: (Deciding that the savage look in my eye was an indicator that she shouldn't continue on that course) "Let's run you through the computer." I wasn't worried, after all I hadn't had a ticket in a quarter century, and had previously renewed my license two times at this very place. Woman: "Hmmm...it seems you have a PCPS hold on your license." Me: "A pukpus?" Woman: (eyeing me like a serial killer) "Have you ever been to Arizona?" Me: "Yes, but I haven't lived there since the '80s!" Woman: "Well you won't be renewing your license today, call this number." So I go home, wondering what in the world could be wrong. Did I forget to pay a ticket? Is there a warrant out for my arrest? I'm a blasted school teacher for Pete's Sake! I don't even double park! (OK, I do.) I call up Arizona from my house, long distance. Operator: (After a 15 minute wait on hold) "May I help you?" Me: "Yes, I have a PCPS hold on my license and would like to find out what's wrong." Woman: "Oh I'll have to transfer you to the next floor." (20 minute hold on long distance, but I don't dare hang up.) Second operator: "May I help you?" Me: "Yes, I'm trying to find out why my license is on hold." ( I give her my information.) Woman: "Okay, we see that you had a ticket." Me: "Did I pay it?" Woman: "Yes, yes you did!" Me: "So why am I on hold?" Woman: "Because you never paid the fee to reinstate your Arizona driver's license." Me: "But I never had an Arizona driver's license!" Woman: (scans the records) "That's true, you didn't." Me: "Okay, I'm confused. How can I pay to reinstate a license I never had?" Woman: "That's not my problem." (Apparently, they include this phrase in DMV training, since I had now heard it from two separate states.) Me: "How much is the fee?" Woman: "Ten dollars." Me: "Can I take care of this now?" Woman: "Do you have a credit card?" Me: "Yes." Woman: "No problem! Let me transfer you to the next floor!" This time I waited for thirty minutes on hold, and worse yet, they had no music, just a guy saying, "we're sorry..." over and over again. "Yeah, I thought, that describes this operation pretty exactly." Finally.... Operator: "Ok, can I help you?" Me: "I'd like to pay my fine." Operator: "It's ten dollars, are you putting it on debit?" Me: "Yes." I calculated the amount of time on hold...one hour. That makes the phone bill actually bigger than the fine. I finally got my license...a week later. You know what's interesting about this story? That is a typical day at the DMV for me and has been since I was 15. Last edited on 10:09 pm by Saint A^2 + B^2 = C^2 |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Saint Forum-Blogger© Pioneer100© Member Polymath
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
The Nature of Evil Today I'd like to talk a bit about war and the nature of evil. This bothered my father a lot. In WWII he was a P-47 fighter pilot in charge of interdiction in Italy. His job was pretty simple, cut the supply lines and blow up any trains the Germans were using. Unfortunatley, the Germans, especially the Nazis, liked to play dirty. War is war after all. So they had a habit of putting a hospital car or a civilian car in between every troop or munitions car. Then they went to the nearest village and took all the women and children especially if they had babies. They made these women with babies ride on the tops of the munitions and troops cars with instructions that they were to hold up their babies skyward should any Allied plane come by. My father said it was very hard to swoop down on a train and hit the trigger to blow apart all the women with babies. He could see them pleading and screaming for mercy. Clutching their babies and children to their chest, knowing that death was coming for them. But he had to blow them all to Hell anyway. Why? Simple, as evil as this may seem, an even greater evil threatened. Hitler was only months behind the US in nuclear technology. (We lucked out when his shipment of heavy water was sunk into a fjord by some Swedish resistance fighters.) If he had gotten the atomic bomb, with his V2 delivery systems...he would have ruled the world. Does anyone here doubt that if you are not blond-haired and blue-eyed like me...you'd be ashes in a furnace somewhere? My father struggled with this but he eventually realized that God does not expect us to be perfect. He expects us to be flawed. He knows we are not perfect. We lie, cheat, steal...and yes, even kill. But that does not mean he won't forgive us. It's easy for all of us here to sit in our warm rooms and discuss things like the philosophically and propound on what we might do if challenged. But the true test is not words but actions. As for me...My choice was obvious. I am a deeply religious Christian, just like the majority of the German people in WWII. But I understand that evil must be met and faced on this plane with the skills and wits we have at our command now. I belong to the United States of America, a nation that, while flawed and imperfect, strives to do what is right on Earth and combat evil. So I put my money where my mouth is and became... 1Lt. Jonathan St. Ives USAFR
A^2 + B^2 = C^2 |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Saint Forum-Blogger© Pioneer100© Member Polymath
|
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
UFOs: The Truth is Out There, But It's Not Hanging Around. In the Air Force, one of the duties required of all pilots is to spend a week (on a rotating basis) doing what is called "alert duty". During that time, you are required to be in your flight suit and be prepared to fly at a moment's notice. You can travel around the base, but most of us chose to stay at the "alert shack" which was a small building at the end of the runway. It was quite comfortable, outfitted with a foosball table, a couple of pool tables, a big screen TV, and tables for cards, etc. The other room held bunks and toilet facilities. It was generally a boring duty. But twice a week, we would run a "scramble" alert. All the pilots would rush out of the building to the planes that were parked just outside. The aircrews would already have the planes started by then, and you would just jump into the cockpit and takeoff nose-to-tail, seeing how fast you could get off the ground. Usually, 99% of the time, you would just fly afterburners-on to a given coordinate, then be told it was an exercise and to fly back home. We usually liked that because in the absence of a given mission, we could have practice dogfights on the way home or engage in other non-permitted behavior such as flying low to the ground with transponders turned off. Occasionally, you'd have to identify an unidentified aircraft, which usually turned out to be a stupid smuggler or an off-course civilian. They were always more than happy to comply with instructions when surrounded by fighter aircraft. (We intentionally flew VERY close to them to make them even more nervous.) Then there were the other times... I've come screaming up on many "UFO's" at closure speeds of up to 880 kias before. I seen them all, silver ones, bright lights that hang in the air, spinning cylinders with lots of details and no kind of flight surfaces at all. Most of them fell into the 'Mexican Air Force" category. A spinning silver plate, just like the one that flew through the Mexican Air Force's flight show a couple of years ago. But the most impressive, by far, was the HUGE black frisbee that hovered over the mountains off the War Highway near El Paso Texas. I was flying as Whiskey 2 and my formation leader was Whiskey 1. It was just about dusk, but there was still plenty of light. It was hovering about 2000 ft. above ground level. As we came up on it, I could see that it was jet black all over it's top and featureless. It was the size of a small city. What really got my attention, though, was the underbelly which was very visible from our position at a slightly lower altitude. The entire bottom of the object was open, a bright red light was suffusing from it. As I watched, other smaller red lights detached themselves from the object and traveled slowly to the ground. There, they joined many other small red lights moving around on ground level. We closed at over the speed of sound, chattering to each other over the mics. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
