Friday, August 28, 2015

So Taxing...

I looked at my check stub for the last two weeks, and, as usual, complained about how much money is taken out for state/federal/ssi.  I figured up the number of hours I worked to pay those taxes... it was 33!  The first 33 hours I worked were for the government. 

I'm not going to be one of those who complains how some people don't work and get paid from the money I pay.  That's not true, anyway.  The government couldn't tax us enough to pay for all the obligations it has created.  My money just disappears.

It goes into the black hole of government debt.

So, then, why do they tax us?  If our money isn't even capable, at a 100% tax rate, of servicing even the interest on the debt, why, then, are we required to continue to pay it?

It makes no sense.  But that is to be expected from an entity which does nothing that makes sense.  Government authority makes no sense.  It is like an amateurish story written one line at a time by random and mostly idiotic people who hallucinate themselves into believing they know what everyone wants. 

Phrases go nowhere.  Dialogue trails off into oblivion.  Devices, barely started, lie unintelligibly mangled in a tangle of redirection.

What can we do?  I strongly doubt there are enough people who've looked at their check stubs and done the basic math to care.  Half the country doesn't even pay income taxes.  There is naught to do but laugh at the futility of it all and wonder how long it will last before the whole stupid mess collapses in on itself.

Friday, August 21, 2015

Easy is Rarely Best

...but sometimes it is... oh, sometimes it really is.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Dreaming All Weird

I had a really weird dream last night.  There wasn't time between waking up and getting up this morning to think about it.  Now, the details have been forgotten.

There is a memory of not wanting to wake up. The knowledge it was a dream was there, yet the memory of what it was about seems to be inaccessible.  There is just the memory of the feeling that it was odd, but in a very comforting way.

We all dream every night.  With little time to think about them, dreams quickly fade from memory.  This dream was just so pleasant I really wish I could remember what it was. 

I say that, but if the memory suddenly returned of the night's dreaming, there would probably only be disappointment.  Perhaps it's the vagueness of memories that make them so dear.  Like a grainy picture of a loved one long ago lost.

Saturday, July 18, 2015

Hee Haw

Does it mean I'm old if I watch a lot of MeTv and RFDTV?

Thursday, May 28, 2015

No, I don't want your + account...

I have been avoiding logging in to my youtube account for a long time due to the fact that it has been prompting me to select a different user name than the one I had in the pre-google days.  Well, I finally broke down and selected one that was exactly the same, only with a lower-case T.  Yay, right?

Wrong... suddenly, it tells me I now have a PLUS account with google.  I don't FRIGGIN' WANT a + account.  So, I have to start jumping through hoops again to disconnect my youtube from +.  Then, when I try to delete my + account, it tells me it will delete my google profile and associated accounts.  WHAT?  WHY?

Finally, reaching the point of pissed-offness that says, "I JUST DON'T CARE,"  I hit the 'delete' button, even knowing I had a blogger account that I didn't want to delete, and gmail, etc... I just wanted to be rid of the tentacles that are GOOGLE.

Why does google buy everything, connect it, and proceed to make it suck?

Friday, April 17, 2015

This Could Be the Last Time

I was just reflecting on how you never think when you do something on a regular basis that it will be the last time you ever do it.  Like the last time I rode my bicycle around the 'bend' where I grew up, or the last time I rode it down the sidewalk at my grandmother's house.  I must have ridden that gravel road we called the 'bend' tens of thousands of times and made many, many more circuits of the walk in front of Grandmother's house. The trees claimed the 'bend' decades ago, and it has been even longer since I spun my 'wheel', as my grandaddy called my bike, on my grandmother's walkway.  I know the last time I did, I never suspected it would be the last.

I wonder what things I have done recently for the last time without knowing about it.  I suspect it happens every now and then, with no fanfare and no recognition until much later... until it's too late to do it again.  Some of them probably never get recognized. 

Sometimes I dream about doing those things... but I suppose that doesn't count.

Today, Again


Thursday, March 05, 2015

24 Hours in Selma

It was 80 degrees outside 24 hours ago, and now it's friggin' snowing... proving the old saying: If you don't like the weather in Alabama, just wait 24 hours.