Month: December 2009

Mountain of Waste at Copenhagen

Mountain of Waste at Copenhagen December 16, 2009 – 7:21 PM | by: William La Jeunesse Use less water. Drive smaller cars. Turn down the heat. Save the planet. Those are the messages coming from the United Nations climate conference in Copenhagen, but the environmental elite here may have a problem with saying one thing while doing another — at least when it comes to paper.The green-conscious conference is utterly buried in it. Not just 8×11 white sheets, but the heavy cream-colored paper used in brochures and glossy red-and-yellow papers the United Nations uses to urge attendees to live a low-carbon lifestyle. (emphasis added) via Mountain of Waste at Copenhagen « Liveshots.  Source: http://liveshots.blogs.foxnews.com/2009/12/16/mountain-of-waste-at-copenhagen/ (accessed 12/17/2009) And more: Handouts from the Colombian rainforest exhibit, which appeared to be underwritten by the country’s Ministry of the Environment, were printed on paper that did not indicate that it was recycled. That exhibit also provided documents promoting palm oil, which environmentalists say is being produced plantation-style in former rainforests, creating massive amounts of carbon dioxide from deforestation. An NGO called Tearfund, which sells carbon credits and works to reduce poverty, offers up a 32-page brochure called “The first cut is the deepest; reducing global emmissions.” Its handout comes printed on thick, high-quality paper that is not recycled. It seems as if the rest of the world wants to tell us “do as I say,...

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The Land That Made Me Me

I think I’m putting this on here (and FB viewers might need to go to the link if photos don’t show) for a couple of reasons. One is nostalgic, nostalgia simply for times that I live within and nostalgia for the benefits that a simpler life provided for society. The other is to preserve for my children and grandchildren some images so vividly descriptive of my childhood and early adult years.  This was purloined from an email posted to my high school class email group (thanks, Eric) … and you can pretty well guess what year we graduated! And by the way, while the exact years may vary, it’s the same land that made most of my friends — young and old alike. The land that made me, me … Long ago and far away, in a land that time forgot, Before the days of Dylan, or the dawn of Camelot. There lived a race of innocents, and they were you and me, For Ike was in the White House in that land where we were born, Where navels were for oranges, and Peyton Place was porn. We learned to gut a muffler, we washed our hair at dawn, We spread our crinolines to dry in circles on the lawn. We longed for love and romance, and waited for our Prince, And Eddie Fisher married Liz, and no one’s...

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A different Christmas poem

Please see the note at the bottom about the origin of this poem.  Regardless of the true origin, it’s a beautiful thought and worthy of preserving. The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light, I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight. My wife was asleep, her head on my chest, My daughter beside me, angelic in rest. Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white, Transforming the yard to a winter delight. The sparkling lights in the tree I believe, Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve. My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep, Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep. In perfect contentment, or so it would seem, So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream. The sound wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t too near, But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear. Perhaps just a cough, I didn’t quite know, Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow. My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear, And I crept to the door just to see who was near. Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night, A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight. A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old, Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold. Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled, Standing watch over me,...

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“The Blindside” will blindside you emotionally

For the guys I’ll say it’s just a movie about football so go enjoy some good hitting. It does also star Sandra Bullock — one of my favorites — who looks positively scrumptious as a blonde and turns in what may be the best performance of her career. Now then, for the gals and those guys willing to get in touch with their “feminine” side, go see it for a wonderful story that will show you all sides of life.  And it will rip your guts right out from many different directions. I think it may be the best movie I’ve seen in years. Many years.  It includes apparent elitist rich white folks, a catty lunch group of women, a view of the worst of the ghetto and some rednecks you’d love to strangle.  If you were to plot the emotional ride it would be a sawtooth wave as opposed to a nice smooth sine wave!  You will see the best of humanity juxtaposed with the worst of what homo sapiens do to one another. Be sure to see it with someone you love. I did. If you want to know a little more, check Internet Movie database: The story of Michael Oher, a homeless and traumatized boy who became an All American football player and first round NFL draft pick with the help of a caring woman and...

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Art Linkletter can’t compete

Remember “Kids Say the Darndest Things?”  Great show. Would love to see that back.  But what people say in court could be quite competitive with what kids say. Had an application for court-appointed attorney.  Let’s say it’s from Jeff who is charged with a felony.  The application is denied because he lists $60,000 in clear assets.  So I have him at the bench to tell him why it was denied, whereupon he says “I don’t got that no more … my wife sold everything.”  Hmmm, what’s up, I think.   So I quiz him.  Property is gone, money is gone and does not know where wife (call her Brenda) is. OK, he now qualifies, having told me this sad tale under oath. Then we notice on his application that the wife listed was Wilma.  I had already sent him back to the holding cell.  “Wait, Prew (deputy/bailiff), we need him back” and here he comes.  “I’m confused. What’s your wife’s name?” I ask. “Wilma” he says.  “But you told me your wife was Brenda” says I. “Brenda is my wife. Wilma is my ‘baby mama’ who I live with.  That’s why my wife sold all my stuff and left.” And he did not seem to have been real surprised at that result. He’s indigent. He gets the lawyer. Like this:Like...

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