Amazing, and Disgusting

The Patriette discusses phraseology and September 11, 2001.

Perhaps to save bureaucratic time and money, we should stop trying to explain/study/describe the day and rather blindly disseminate things that other countries have to say about the event.

You can all spit now.

hln

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Comments?

Do they work? Should I keep them? Are they non-intuitive? Will it rain tomorrow? Will virtual erasers take flight and wipe out all of Blogspot's content?

Answer me these!

(Please).

hln

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Blog as Means of Shaming Those Who Would Shame Us

There - title will be longer than the post. Adam and cohorts encounter jerko car salesman and scathing commentary doth ensue.

hln

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The Berkshire Grill, Bridgeton, MO

Yes, this is a restaurant review. The Berkshire Grill was one of my favorite restaurants for a long time. It's located close to my home, sports a wide variety of food, employs an actual chef who features different specials for a time frame (perhaps a month - not certain), and, at one time, its service was overwhelmingly better than other restaurants of its type and price range (Applebee's, Ruby Tuesday, Red Lobster, Olive Garden - you get the idea). This was a "celebrate birthday and other occasions" restaurant.

And then the ownership changed.

This was less than a year ago, but I'm not certain of the exact date. The only reason I know of the ownership change was that Brian and I visited before the new owners had received their liquor license. Servers were warning all patrons of the lack of alcohol that evening.

I have three incidents, and, well, you know the rule of strike three. Here they are. I figure this is more effective than a simple letter to the management. I don't plan to go back for a few months.

Incident 1: I actually have the date. It was May 22, 2003 - Brian's and my 4th anniversary. I usually order the same dull, boring, but VERY tasty salad, and when the server brought me the dressing, it was woefully unmixed - about 2/3 oil and 1/3 of the good stuff. I asked for a spoon and gave the exact reason - to try to remove the oil from the dressing. Apparently spoons are not normal dining fare at the Berkshire Grill under new ownership; none sat atop my place setting.

The server brought one. I tried for a few minutes, but could not remove a significant enough amount of the oil to make the dressing palatable, and so I asked for more dressing. Usually it's superb, and even my uneducated palate can distinguish crap from superb. He brings me more dressing and has the audacity to say, "Oh, I just had to stir it."

Uh....this is not the mark of a restaurant that distinguishes itself from others because of fantastic service.

Incident #2 - approximately 2 weeks later. My friend Tonya, with whom I try to dine about once a month, and I met at Berkshire on a weekday evening, probably a Wednesday. Same said server dolt decided to feign sweeping other parts of the restaurant during our meal. Everytime he'd find something more interesting to do, he'd prop his broom and dustpan (quite dirty) against some table, and then flee to his other task. This occurred at least three times. Ambiance! Baby!

Incident #3 was last night. I ordered BBQ ribs and specifically stated no cole slaw. I asked for a little bit of extra lettuce on my starter salad instead. (This restaurant has actually done that for me - added more salad in place of a side). Oh, but not this server. Not a big deal that she forgot the lettuce; no big thing. I wasn't going to starve. But, plopped on my plate, with a big old nasty pile of mayonnaise-laden sloppy goo, is this wad of cole slaw. Mom, you're cringing, aren't you. I mean, your head must hurt.

I despise mayonnaise. It's one of the three most disgusting edible/drinkable substances (with mashed potatoes and carbonated beverages rounding out the list). I got no offer of "we'll bring you another plate." Instead, I picked up the blob and put it in my dirty salad bowl, and our server, Shannon, walked away with it.

Now, again, minor irritation. But it's the third time. And, to me, it's more of an irritation than to most. I don't personally ascribe to the "but it all ends up in the same place anyway" theory. BS. I was willing to let it slide in my mind until I noticed that the aforementioned cole slaw had a very runny mayonnaise sauce. Yes, you bet. It was all over my french fries (probably good - those go to my hips), and all over one end of my ribs. I pointed this out. I got a "I'm going to ignore that" look from the server.

So, Berkshire Grill, you've lost a customer (two, actually - Brian) for a while. Perhaps you should hire back those excellent servers whom you've chased off, and read the service manual one more time.

Empty parking lot last night. Give it a month - it'll be emptier.

Those of you from stlbloggers.com - I'd love to know if you feel the same.

hln

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So, Do You Feel Better Now, Donna?

Because there you are - top story of CNN, with your <ad hominem>porcine face</ad hominem> and its dim-witted blank sneer (yes, it's possible).

Fame, there it is. Deception. Pain.

Rachel Lucas has already addressed this, so she can do the talking.

I'll do the sentencing. Circle 8, Bolgia 10. You're pretty far down, Donna. Let me give you a quote.

Polyxena with her there witnessing,
Saw her Polydorus washed ashore: the weight
of sorrow drove her mad, her soul so wrung

She began barking like a dog. And yet,
No fury of Thebes or Troy was ever seen
So cruel - not any rending of beasts, and not

Tearing of human limbs, as I saw shown
By two pale, naked shades who now ran up
Biting, the way a pig does loosed from his pen.

How unpleasant.

hln

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Glad We Got This Guy!

An obvious menace to society, Angel Melendez, a street musician, was sent to JAIL for having an "uncontained kitten" in his company. Fear it. The kitten went to jail, too.

Obviously, this is a crackdown on possible terrorism; the new exploding kittens (activated for possible destruction only when not leashed or crated) look very much like REAL kittens.

Ticket? Maybe. JAIL? Fear it.

hln

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Didn't Take Long...

...to find something about which to spew this evening.

Mayor John Robert Smith was speaking during the community service when Shirley Price stood and spoke: "Excuse me. Don't criticize this man. He was human too ... don't exclude him. He was a victim, too. ... He was a kind and loving human being."

Price broke into tears and left the church. Her boyfriend, Doug Williams, committed suicide after shooting 14 co-workers, killing five, at the Lockheed Martin aircraft parts plant Tuesday.

Uh, hello? Are you in there, Shirley Price? Or do you somehow think that life comes equipped with a pretty "Undo" button - Control-Z on the whole issue, and now only your beloved Doug Williams is dead and these fourteen people are at home with their families and untarnished flesh. Wrong. This man is a perpetrator. A perpetrator is not allowed status as a victim when he (here she goes - wince, please)

1) Suddenly left an employee ethics course and returned armed with weapons.

2) Opened fire on a room of unarmed people.

3) Left this room, his homicidal binge apparently unsatisfied, and proceeded to shoot others unfortunate enough to be in his proximity.

4) Took his own life.

(Facts from another CNN story).

These are actions, Shirley Price, and this man was THE cause of victimhood, his final acts in life an eruption of evil from which any shadow of good he might possibly have attained will never emerge. And he, a grown man, chose this. So chosen.

His circle of hell? He's making a spot for Chante Mallard down in Circle 7, Round 1. More boiling blood. I realize he could reside in Round 2 for the suicide, but encased in a tree is not nearly as unpleasant.

hln

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Sentencing: The Jury is Kinder than Heather

No boiling blood for Chante Mallard. Instead, suddenly remorseful now that there are RAMIFICATIONS for her actions, a snivelling Ms. Mallard is sentenced to 50 years for the more serious of her offenses.

I am pleased about many things. First, the jury took nearly no time to deliberate. Second, this stands as very visible proof that, indeed, there are consequences for evil doings.

So much for "extraordinary circumstances."

hln

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An Extreme Example: Please Take Responsibility for Your Actions

Everyone who knows me knows about this. I expressed frothing outrage when first I learned of the news, and I will do so again at a particular statement made by the defense attorney:

To Mallard's lawyer, "that doesn't amount to murder ... She didn't want her parents to learn what she had done, and she didn't want to go to jail."

Well, lawyer man, that's just ducky. Let me ask you, how do you sleep at night? And here's why I ask:

Chante Mallard

1. Drove a car while under intoxicating/drugged influence.
2. Struck a man while driving said car in said condition.
3. Struck this man with such force that he remained embedded in her car, specifically the windshield.
   
   Stop right here. If Mallard contacts the authorities and seeks aid for the man she has struck, she's done the best that can be expected of civic duty given that point one violates civic duty. But no.
   
   
4. She drives home with the man still in the windshield.
5. She puts the car (hence, the man) into the garage.
6. She has the audacity to APOLOGIZE to the man but not seek help for him.
7. The man dies. Mallard seeks help in disposing the body.

Does anyone not find the last four points entirely morally reprehensible? And then for the defense to paint the picture of a poor, distraught soul. So, Chante, what does Mommy think now?

Disgusting. Thoroughly disgusting. I propose Circle 7, Round 1. Submerged in hot blood.

Duly sentenced.

hln

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Tobacco Furor (rant rant info

Tobacco Furor (rant rant info rant)

Today is obviously an ammunition-rich day for tobacco opponents.

First, we have this.

Next, my opinion on smoking. I'm proud of myself that I've abstained from presenting this until now.

1) If this were MY world, it wouldn't exist.
2) It's not allowed in my home, my car, and, if possible, anything I would define as my personal space.
3) When asked a smoking preference at a restaurant, I say "eradication." (No one seems to understand that, btw. So fun).
4) I completely miss the point of smoking. It's supposedly pleasurable. So are very many things in life that do not gradually and continually damage one's own body willingly (and irritate/exacerbate/cause lung disease/etc. in others). Everyday smokers are some pretty jumpy people, too, so I question some common sense about "smoking calms me down" when, in effect, the whole habit is probably what makes you jumpy in the first place. The smell (and residue) are revolting. Out of context (read: the non-smoking world) this all seems very, very strange.

HOWEVER. Currently, smoking is legal, and individual property owners (bars, restaurants, homeowners) dictate whether the activity can be conducted on their owned property. There's the whole big ever-changing debate on the effect of smoking on public health. It's so nebulous, really. Firm X pays for this study, Firm Y for this. They cancel each other out. Who's really to know? Personally, I believe most of the "smoking is bad for x because of y." reports, and, I have physical ramifications from breathing the stuff, so I try to avoid it in all possible circumstances.

A quote from this CNN article is obnoxious, though.

American Cancer Society CEO John Seffrin called tobacco "the only weapon of mass destruction used against people all over the world."

Sit down, Sir John. Puhleez. Did you gather appropriate mounds of fetid onions to be placed in your immediate vicinity so that your cry and snivel were heard loud enough to grant you this quote? WMD - such a lovely catchphrase. You must be proud to be cliche.

Moving right along to something with a little more protein, we have this article I stumbled across when it was 12 seconds old. Nicotine is some nasty noxious stuff - so this isn't terribly surprising. In short:

NEW YORK (Reuters Health) - Smoking during pregnancy appears to affect a newborn's behavior in ways similar to infants whose mothers used heroin or other illegal drugs, new study findings suggest.

Smoking between 6 and 7 cigarettes per day -- less than half a pack -- throughout pregnancy was associated with infants that were more excitable, less consolable and more rigid, according to the report published in the journal Pediatrics.

This is funny. So THAT'S what's wrong with Generation X.

hln

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Pineapples for Peace

Yesterday was the big tax day, as we Americans all know. I paid mine, throughout the year and a bit here before this deadline. Since my husband and I both work full time, we donate quite a bit of money to various charities to fund and support what we believe to be important.

Everyone has a cause or a belief or an embittered passion. Some have all three of these. Today the AP headline read: "Some Peace Activists Won't Pay Fed Taxes." And I just couldn't leave it alone.

You see, I'm a big fan of peace. Peace means a lot of things. Peace, to me, means no murders. It means no wars; it means no threat of wars, and it means no terrorism. It means no domestic violence, and it, at the core, also requires that man be something other than inherently evil. I'll talk more about that later but not today.

If you jump on my example's front porch, you'll see and probably agree that, even in a civilized country on a civilized continent, true peace is but an illusion.

America is a large country of 50 United States. We Americans live here by choice, for we have the free will to pick up our belongings (or not) and move our place of residence to any other country that will have us. America asks little of us as citizens. We elect our officials, and to have the most say in what these people whom we elect will represent,we have obligation to vote. If your state or federal courts request your service on jury, be honored, for our court system, though it contains many flaws and loopholes, often requires input from common civilians to deliver results.

Now, consider these things in somber tone. There are many ways to advocate peace. Some are obviously more constructive than others. Peace begins in the home. It travels then to groups of people, typically with a common objective. I am happy to agree that war is not peace. If you believe a nation not actively at war is at peace, think again, for these are not mutually exclusive.

I am disheartened by this article. I am often disappointed with this country's citizens en masse. At the core, whom do you hurt by not paying your taxes? You taint your reputation with this lovely label of "war tax resister." Oh, and what about those lovely social programs - fewer federal dollars means less money channeled into your state for your cause.

Hmm, I'm not too fond of the couple of thousand extra I had to fork out three years ago because the marriage penalty hit me. I'm pretty sure that money went to fund boll weevil researchers in Atlanta on some hefty government grant. Booyah. Perhaps I should write to the IRS and respectfully decline my bill this year and register myself as a "boll weevil resister." If I sell it well, I bet I could write a book about persuasion and bandwagons and perhaps raise enough money to get me out of tax hock. And have the last laugh.

But that's not what this is really about. This is, for the remainder of this evening's words, in effect, an open letter (rant) to the "war tax resisters" and an invitation to join my new campaign - because peace goes with anything, right? It's kinda like salt. And black.

And so today at lunch, I thought about Pinneaples for Peace. It's illiterative. It's got a nice ring to it. And I bet Dole would fork over some of those big spiky beauties, and we could make large posters of pineapples and draw big red circles around them with lines across the middle (I believe that's called a diameter). Pineapples could be the anti hand grenade! They do bear a small resemblance! Also, pineapple is yellow on the inside. If you cut it like Dole does, you have pineapple rings. Pineapple rings will fit around small bushes, and so your pineapple could stand as a sign that we need to bring our troops home. Pineapple is also, obviously, a food. So we could send our pineapples, after we are finished demonstrating with them, to Iraq and to Afghanistan. We could save the world.

Now, if this doesn't excite you, well, you could always leave the country. I hear France is pretty anti-war. Oh, wait. They're not very friendly. There's always Canada. You could live in the safety of America's shadow (because it's not like America's gonna let anyone mess with Canada). If Canada seems a good option, I've taken the liberty of providing some tax information for you here. Personally, if it ever got that bad here, that's where I would go. Oh, but be sure to save some extra moolah for your heating bill...and boots. You'll need 'em. Learn the rules of hockey, too; there's a good pacifier of a sport.

And there's Mexico! The good news? That country's tax regs were so vague and hard to find online I'm sure there's enough gray area in there to satisfy any diehard liberal. I'd recommend England, but that would only have been a viable option BEFORE the war. It seems public opinion has shifted toward the "winning team."

And, finally, if none of this excites you, perhaps you could find a new home country whose first letter is P. P is for Peace, right? I offer you these exotic locales: Paraguay, Pakistan, Papua New Guinea, Poland, and Peru!

Happy trails. Pay your taxes. Protest at will. Pray.

Peace.

hln

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