Today I have another training session (aka humiliation) for a bewildering computer program my school is using to
Two can play that game.
Showing posts with label made Anne mad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label made Anne mad. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 20, 2019
Passive or Aggressive, I'm Not Gonna Take It
Thank you to all who volunteered to donate loose leaf paper to my class! I left PayPal info in the comments of the last post.
Today I have another training session (aka humiliation) for a bewildering computer program my school is using tospy on teachers assess student learning. The last time I had one of these, the facilitator was openly disdainful of me.
Two can play that game.
Today I have another training session (aka humiliation) for a bewildering computer program my school is using to
Two can play that game.
Monday, April 01, 2019
One Job Should Be Enough
What's wrong with the Democrats? Is it me, or is everyone missing the real problem in this country?
How long can this end-stage capitalism last, when our young people can only be employed in "gigs" as "independent contractors," as "part timers" when really they should be full time (and are, in terms of hours performed)?
Did you see this week that Lyft, whose entire work force is "gig," went public with an IPO? Shareholder value! The entire company is built on people who qualify for Medicare and food stamps!
What we have right now is a workforce that is losing all of its power to self-sustain. I am so tired of it. So. Tired. Of. It.
If I was running this world, I'd stick it to the oligarchs, and not just in this country, but everywhere. There ought to be an international cap on wealth, agreed to by all governing bodies.
Know why that will never happen? The politicians are either bought by the stinking rich, or they are the stinking rich.
One job should be enough. Enough to rent an apartment, enough to support a child, enough to afford a modest savings, a fun vacation, a car. That's not asking much. Why isn't it a platform of the Democratic Party?
Oh, by the way, sweet readers ... I missed you guys! You can comment, and sorry about the stupid verify thing. I'll try to police the sleaze bags.
How long can this end-stage capitalism last, when our young people can only be employed in "gigs" as "independent contractors," as "part timers" when really they should be full time (and are, in terms of hours performed)?
Did you see this week that Lyft, whose entire work force is "gig," went public with an IPO? Shareholder value! The entire company is built on people who qualify for Medicare and food stamps!
What we have right now is a workforce that is losing all of its power to self-sustain. I am so tired of it. So. Tired. Of. It.
If I was running this world, I'd stick it to the oligarchs, and not just in this country, but everywhere. There ought to be an international cap on wealth, agreed to by all governing bodies.
Know why that will never happen? The politicians are either bought by the stinking rich, or they are the stinking rich.
One job should be enough. Enough to rent an apartment, enough to support a child, enough to afford a modest savings, a fun vacation, a car. That's not asking much. Why isn't it a platform of the Democratic Party?
Oh, by the way, sweet readers ... I missed you guys! You can comment, and sorry about the stupid verify thing. I'll try to police the sleaze bags.
Monday, October 22, 2018
The High Cost of Halloween
No one would ask a public school teacher to work on Christmas. It's a holiday.
Except if you're a Pagan, the holiday is December 21, and we're always still in school on that day.
For me, it gets worse.
As a Pagan, I need to take off work on Samhain.
Now, if I was a Pagan student, I would get the day off with no penalties. Teachers don't get that opportunity. If I want to celebrate the most important holy day on my yearly calendar, I have to lose either a sick day or a personal day.
So, what's the big deal about calling out sick on Halloween? Well, I did a little bit of math. For my first eight years of teaching, I am in a pool where I will be compensated $70 per day for unused sick or personal days. I have taken off Samhain (either one or two days, or one-and-a-half days) every year since I started teaching. Eight years, $70 per year ... That's $560. Throw in Imbolc, which I also take off every year, and the pot jumps to $1120.
Where's that war on Christianity that the moron Sessions is crowing about?
This looks to me like discrimination. Trust me, I'm watching our political events very closely, because I am ready to sue for that entire $1120 if the Christians push too hard on, say, something ridiculous like prayer in school.
Just for the record, I would be very willing and able to come to school on Christmas and teach a full day.
Except if you're a Pagan, the holiday is December 21, and we're always still in school on that day.
For me, it gets worse.
As a Pagan, I need to take off work on Samhain.
Now, if I was a Pagan student, I would get the day off with no penalties. Teachers don't get that opportunity. If I want to celebrate the most important holy day on my yearly calendar, I have to lose either a sick day or a personal day.
So, what's the big deal about calling out sick on Halloween? Well, I did a little bit of math. For my first eight years of teaching, I am in a pool where I will be compensated $70 per day for unused sick or personal days. I have taken off Samhain (either one or two days, or one-and-a-half days) every year since I started teaching. Eight years, $70 per year ... That's $560. Throw in Imbolc, which I also take off every year, and the pot jumps to $1120.
Where's that war on Christianity that the moron Sessions is crowing about?
This looks to me like discrimination. Trust me, I'm watching our political events very closely, because I am ready to sue for that entire $1120 if the Christians push too hard on, say, something ridiculous like prayer in school.
Just for the record, I would be very willing and able to come to school on Christmas and teach a full day.
Friday, March 23, 2018
First One I've Missed
I've been having trouble with this platform. I'll write a 500 word blog, hit a wrong combination of keys, and the entire thing deletes with no record. I just wrote a passionate diatribe about guns in America, complete with photos, links to spoken word poems, and firmly held beliefs. I was proofreading it. Three keys later, it's gone.
I can't attend the March for Our Lives. I will be in transit to a wedding in Manhattan.
I can't re-write the post. It took me an hour, and that hour is done. Life proceeds.
I only have time to do this:
Next time I'll upload a goddamn Google doc.
Tuesday, August 15, 2017
The Wrong War
Honestly, the Orange Menace at his lowest, basest, and most disreputable, hit on the truth.
When asked what would heal racial wounds in this country, he said, "Jobs."
He's absolutely right. He just doesn't have a prayer or a clue how to get the jobs we need.
You're always going to be able to turn over rocks in trash-filled drainage ditches and find Neo Nazis and White supremacists. But they would be fairly content to dwell under there, sucking on sewage, if they had halfway decent jobs.
And now they do have determined opposition. Anti-fascists are training to fight back literally against the hate criminals. Game on! And what you get, sadly, are real casualties.
Listen, my friends: The anti-fascists are not "alt-left" radicals. They are anarchists who don't believe in any government at all. Can you blame them? Do you have faith in this government?
When I see young men fist-fighting in the streets, shouting hateful slogans, and plowing people down with cars, what I see are workers who don't have jobs. The enemy isn't the other young white guy. The enemy is the ownership class.
All the wealth, all the growth, has funneled right to the top of our society. We have a few people who have way too much money and a ton of people who don't have enough. The problem is that the few are so removed, so insulated from ire by gated, guarded compounds. The few pay "newscasters" to manipulate and re-direct hatred. The few encourage race wars and political divisions. This piles on the insulation for the moneyed class.
The rich always smile when workers fight with workers.
I read in the news that one of the Neo Nazis at the rally was recognized from a photograph. He lost his job. His job was serving hot dogs at a Top Dog restaurant. How frustrating is it to be in your twenties, and the best job you can get is at a hot dog joint? Take that anger, and fuel it with Fox News vitriol against liberals, and you get a person who is furious against the wrong target.
The rich always smile when workers fight with workers. And this fight is joined, and it will be joined because good jobs aren't going to materialize.
We need a solid working class in this nation. People are so desperate for it that they voted, stupidly, for a snake oil salesman.
There are indeed two sides: those who have too much, and those who have too little. Who is the real enemy? We're bashing the wrong heads.
When asked what would heal racial wounds in this country, he said, "Jobs."
He's absolutely right. He just doesn't have a prayer or a clue how to get the jobs we need.
You're always going to be able to turn over rocks in trash-filled drainage ditches and find Neo Nazis and White supremacists. But they would be fairly content to dwell under there, sucking on sewage, if they had halfway decent jobs.
And now they do have determined opposition. Anti-fascists are training to fight back literally against the hate criminals. Game on! And what you get, sadly, are real casualties.
Listen, my friends: The anti-fascists are not "alt-left" radicals. They are anarchists who don't believe in any government at all. Can you blame them? Do you have faith in this government?
When I see young men fist-fighting in the streets, shouting hateful slogans, and plowing people down with cars, what I see are workers who don't have jobs. The enemy isn't the other young white guy. The enemy is the ownership class.
All the wealth, all the growth, has funneled right to the top of our society. We have a few people who have way too much money and a ton of people who don't have enough. The problem is that the few are so removed, so insulated from ire by gated, guarded compounds. The few pay "newscasters" to manipulate and re-direct hatred. The few encourage race wars and political divisions. This piles on the insulation for the moneyed class.
The rich always smile when workers fight with workers.
I read in the news that one of the Neo Nazis at the rally was recognized from a photograph. He lost his job. His job was serving hot dogs at a Top Dog restaurant. How frustrating is it to be in your twenties, and the best job you can get is at a hot dog joint? Take that anger, and fuel it with Fox News vitriol against liberals, and you get a person who is furious against the wrong target.
The rich always smile when workers fight with workers. And this fight is joined, and it will be joined because good jobs aren't going to materialize.
We need a solid working class in this nation. People are so desperate for it that they voted, stupidly, for a snake oil salesman.
There are indeed two sides: those who have too much, and those who have too little. Who is the real enemy? We're bashing the wrong heads.
Saturday, August 12, 2017
White Hot Fury over White Supremacists
If you turned 90 years old in 2017 you were too young to fight in World War II.
I know this because my dad was drafted in 1944 but didn't go abroad. The war was nearly over when he mustered in. September 23 would have been his 90th birthday.
All World War II veterans are over 90 years old, except for maybe a very few stragglers who lied about their age. They would be, at best, 87.
And now we have empowered Neo Nazis, marching in the streets of Charlottesville, Virginia.
All the blood, the pain, the loss of life and limb. The loss of sanity. A whole generation profoundly affected by world events. And before the last of them draws a final breath, people in this country are glorifying the very evil that this country opposed!
I'm not even going to start on the Confederate flag, except to say that Sherman should have been more thorough.
In the matter of white supremacy, can I just point something out? Whites are supreme in this country! Their salaries are better than minority citizens, their job prospects are better than minority citizens, their numbers are larger, and they're in charge. You want to see white supremacy? Take a walk on Wall Street and see who's running the world. Look at pictures of our nation's CEOs, strolling together at some exclusive conference. You won't see any minorities there.
The lowest forms of life -- people who blame their own loser status on someone else with a different skin color -- are empowered by our loathsome chief executive, who couldn't bring himself to denounce the white supremacists or the terrorist who plowed through a crowd of counter protesters.
We must resist this. We must stand up against white bigotry and promote the advancement of American minorities. This despicable behavior is unacceptable.
If they came to my town with their damn swastikas and tiki torches, I'd be out there countering them myself.
Donald Trump, go to Hell. And take all your racist followers with you.
I know this because my dad was drafted in 1944 but didn't go abroad. The war was nearly over when he mustered in. September 23 would have been his 90th birthday.
All World War II veterans are over 90 years old, except for maybe a very few stragglers who lied about their age. They would be, at best, 87.
And now we have empowered Neo Nazis, marching in the streets of Charlottesville, Virginia.
All the blood, the pain, the loss of life and limb. The loss of sanity. A whole generation profoundly affected by world events. And before the last of them draws a final breath, people in this country are glorifying the very evil that this country opposed!
I'm not even going to start on the Confederate flag, except to say that Sherman should have been more thorough.
In the matter of white supremacy, can I just point something out? Whites are supreme in this country! Their salaries are better than minority citizens, their job prospects are better than minority citizens, their numbers are larger, and they're in charge. You want to see white supremacy? Take a walk on Wall Street and see who's running the world. Look at pictures of our nation's CEOs, strolling together at some exclusive conference. You won't see any minorities there.
The lowest forms of life -- people who blame their own loser status on someone else with a different skin color -- are empowered by our loathsome chief executive, who couldn't bring himself to denounce the white supremacists or the terrorist who plowed through a crowd of counter protesters.
We must resist this. We must stand up against white bigotry and promote the advancement of American minorities. This despicable behavior is unacceptable.
If they came to my town with their damn swastikas and tiki torches, I'd be out there countering them myself.
Donald Trump, go to Hell. And take all your racist followers with you.
Friday, July 14, 2017
5 Br 5 Ba
O frabjous day! My computer is humming contentedly again. So, once more into the fray I go!
I have played hostess to many bored Goddesses in the past twelve years, especially feeling the presence of Queen Brighid the Bright. Still, Brighid never moved in the way Cloacina has. Possibly because I never had a spare room until recently.
I thought it would be difficult to converse with Cloacina, who is after all an ancient Roman deity, but by golly, that one year of Latin in high school has set everything on a smooth course! I've got the prefixes and suffixes and the root words, so we communicate very well indeed.
EXHIBIT A: CLOACINA -- ISN'T SHE BEAUTIFUL?
This is a Goddess I can get behind. My bathrooms have been spotless since She arrived.
Bear with me a moment while I post a photo:
EXHIBIT B: A PERFECTLY GOOD AND CHARMING HOUSE
This is the house across the street from my own. Isn't it charming? And those two beautiful oak trees. They warm a Druid's heart. You can't see it, but behind this house is a two-car garage with a one bedroom apartment over top. The house was built in 1923.
Some time ago, a developer bought this property. Very soon he will demolish this house and the garage. He planned to put two houses on the lot. Instead he's going to demolish everything, build one house, and try to sell the vacant side of the property for someone else to build a house. The oak trees will be chopped down, as will four mature trees along the property line off to the left and out of the photo.
Snobville's planning board gave him the hearty green light, of course. I went to the meeting. I don't know why I bothered to stand up and ask the board to vote the project down. It was a waste of breath.
There are no structural problems with this house (Cloacina prefers the word "domicile"). It needs some updates, but it has its original wood floors with the cute trim and a center hall staircase with carved banister. It has a finished basement, which means it has two small bathrooms and four bedrooms (if you count the room in the basement as a bedroom).
But hey, let's tear this old gem down and build something brand new and shoddy!
You know what I've noticed about modern day Americans? Everyone wants their own bathroom.
One of the things the greedy bastard developer is going to do in his shoddy new construction is provide each bedroom with its own bathroom. This is the rage these days. All you need to do is look at the multiple listings, and you'll see that newer homes all have restrooms everywhere, kind of like ballparks. Or hospitals. Or hotels.
EXHIBIT C: NOT THE END OF THE WORLD
My grandparents had one of these when I was growing up. It sure wasn't pleasant, I didn't linger in its confines, but it got the job done.
(Cloacina finds this appalling, but She's also dismayed at the modern home with its five-and-a-half bathrooms. How to keep them all shiny clean?)
I have to wonder about children being raised in homes where they have their own bathrooms. Talk about privilege! They're literally growing up without ever having to smell anyone else's stink. Call me gross if you like (Cloacina is again appalled), but I believe we should all get a little whiff of something unpleasant now and then. It keeps us grounded as mortals. It teaches us to love other people because they are mortal too.
The house being torn down once had seven people living in it. Seems like it's a fine size for a family like that. The house that will be built in its place will have three bedrooms and three-and-a-half baths, including -- of course -- a master bath.
The whole concept of "master bath" baffles me. Why does a bathroom need to be luxurious? Why have a bath tub so large it takes forever to fill, or a shower with granite tiles? No one spends more than 30 minutes in the tub or the shower. Forty-five minutes, tops. Why does that room need to be private and posh? Oh yes, I forgot. Privilege. How can I forget that I live in Snobville, where privilege flows through the streets like milk and honey?
Sadly, I don't think you've heard the last of this demolition/rebuilding project. It's right in my face, literally, and I can't do anything to stop it.
However, when the house goes up on the market, my Bernie sign will return to my front lawn. Let them know that workers live in my house. Workers, who share one restroom and a water closet.
Time for a bath ... just as soon as Mr. J is finished his shower.
All hail Cloacina!
I have played hostess to many bored Goddesses in the past twelve years, especially feeling the presence of Queen Brighid the Bright. Still, Brighid never moved in the way Cloacina has. Possibly because I never had a spare room until recently.
I thought it would be difficult to converse with Cloacina, who is after all an ancient Roman deity, but by golly, that one year of Latin in high school has set everything on a smooth course! I've got the prefixes and suffixes and the root words, so we communicate very well indeed.
EXHIBIT A: CLOACINA -- ISN'T SHE BEAUTIFUL?
This is a Goddess I can get behind. My bathrooms have been spotless since She arrived.
Bear with me a moment while I post a photo:
EXHIBIT B: A PERFECTLY GOOD AND CHARMING HOUSE
This is the house across the street from my own. Isn't it charming? And those two beautiful oak trees. They warm a Druid's heart. You can't see it, but behind this house is a two-car garage with a one bedroom apartment over top. The house was built in 1923.
Some time ago, a developer bought this property. Very soon he will demolish this house and the garage. He planned to put two houses on the lot. Instead he's going to demolish everything, build one house, and try to sell the vacant side of the property for someone else to build a house. The oak trees will be chopped down, as will four mature trees along the property line off to the left and out of the photo.
Snobville's planning board gave him the hearty green light, of course. I went to the meeting. I don't know why I bothered to stand up and ask the board to vote the project down. It was a waste of breath.
There are no structural problems with this house (Cloacina prefers the word "domicile"). It needs some updates, but it has its original wood floors with the cute trim and a center hall staircase with carved banister. It has a finished basement, which means it has two small bathrooms and four bedrooms (if you count the room in the basement as a bedroom).
But hey, let's tear this old gem down and build something brand new and shoddy!
You know what I've noticed about modern day Americans? Everyone wants their own bathroom.
One of the things the greedy bastard developer is going to do in his shoddy new construction is provide each bedroom with its own bathroom. This is the rage these days. All you need to do is look at the multiple listings, and you'll see that newer homes all have restrooms everywhere, kind of like ballparks. Or hospitals. Or hotels.
EXHIBIT C: NOT THE END OF THE WORLD
My grandparents had one of these when I was growing up. It sure wasn't pleasant, I didn't linger in its confines, but it got the job done.
(Cloacina finds this appalling, but She's also dismayed at the modern home with its five-and-a-half bathrooms. How to keep them all shiny clean?)
I have to wonder about children being raised in homes where they have their own bathrooms. Talk about privilege! They're literally growing up without ever having to smell anyone else's stink. Call me gross if you like (Cloacina is again appalled), but I believe we should all get a little whiff of something unpleasant now and then. It keeps us grounded as mortals. It teaches us to love other people because they are mortal too.
The house being torn down once had seven people living in it. Seems like it's a fine size for a family like that. The house that will be built in its place will have three bedrooms and three-and-a-half baths, including -- of course -- a master bath.
The whole concept of "master bath" baffles me. Why does a bathroom need to be luxurious? Why have a bath tub so large it takes forever to fill, or a shower with granite tiles? No one spends more than 30 minutes in the tub or the shower. Forty-five minutes, tops. Why does that room need to be private and posh? Oh yes, I forgot. Privilege. How can I forget that I live in Snobville, where privilege flows through the streets like milk and honey?
Sadly, I don't think you've heard the last of this demolition/rebuilding project. It's right in my face, literally, and I can't do anything to stop it.
However, when the house goes up on the market, my Bernie sign will return to my front lawn. Let them know that workers live in my house. Workers, who share one restroom and a water closet.
Time for a bath ... just as soon as Mr. J is finished his shower.
All hail Cloacina!
Thursday, March 23, 2017
An Open Letter to the Jackass with the Donald Trump Bumper Sticker
(Apologies, y'all. I've been watching a lot of really, really terrific spoken word poetry. I'm not a poet, but I did steal the "open letter" concept.)
An Open Letter to the Jackass with the Donald Trump Bumper Sticker
Yes! I saw you in the east bound lanes of Route 70 Thursday afternoon! You pulled up parallel to me, honked your horn, and held up your TRUMP bumper sticker that you must have had handy on the passenger seat next to you.
It was handy because you had no passenger. No one to fill the empty seat in your snowy white Cadillac Escalade. No one to hold your tiny hand or your TRUMP sticker. Lonesome boy!
I couldn't help noticing that your Escalade, while painted snowy white, had a thickish coat of gray grime. You know why, jackass? YOU LIVE IN NEW JERSEY, the Smokestack State! Your tags give it away! Who buys a white car in New Jersey? My guess is, a racist.
And now I have another rhetorical question. Why isn't the TRUMP bumper sticker ON YOUR CAR? I have my RESIST sticker right where everyone can see it. That's how you knew to flash me your TRUMP. You saw RESIST and pulled up beside me.
Holding your bumper sticker in your hand. In your Escalade. Where you were alone.
Could it be that you aren't proud enough of your candidate to put his name on your SUV? No, wait. It's not that. YOU LIVE IN NEW JERSEY. This state voted so blue that you can't tell the sky from the ground. This state is so blue that Elvis sings about it at Christmas time. It's so blue it needs Prozac. This state is so blue it could be a Viking's eyes. In this state, Dorothy and Toto go to the Sapphire City. NEW JERSEY IS THE FREAKIN PAST TENSE OF BLOW.
So while I can tootle around in my decrepit Saturn with my RESIST bumper sticker proudly displayed, You, jackass, run risks putting TRUMP on your Escalade. Your prissy truck could get keyed at the mall!
But wait. There's more.
You moved into my lane and got in front of me. You have a Cadillac. And yet when we got to the exit for Snobville, I was the one who exited, and you kept going down Route 70 toward Cherry Hill and its eight large synagogues. Was that your destination? Jersey tags, you must live in the area. But you don't live in Snobville. I do! Tra la la, Snobville went 65% for Hillary Clinton! I used to hate Snobville, but since those election results came in, I've been quite happy in my snobby home.
Stupid conspicuous consumer in your ugly high-end gas guzzler! Drive on. Alone. Right to the end of the road ... and then into the ocean. Because you should be shark food.
Sincerely,
Anne Johnson
An Open Letter to the Jackass with the Donald Trump Bumper Sticker
Yes! I saw you in the east bound lanes of Route 70 Thursday afternoon! You pulled up parallel to me, honked your horn, and held up your TRUMP bumper sticker that you must have had handy on the passenger seat next to you.
It was handy because you had no passenger. No one to fill the empty seat in your snowy white Cadillac Escalade. No one to hold your tiny hand or your TRUMP sticker. Lonesome boy!
I couldn't help noticing that your Escalade, while painted snowy white, had a thickish coat of gray grime. You know why, jackass? YOU LIVE IN NEW JERSEY, the Smokestack State! Your tags give it away! Who buys a white car in New Jersey? My guess is, a racist.
And now I have another rhetorical question. Why isn't the TRUMP bumper sticker ON YOUR CAR? I have my RESIST sticker right where everyone can see it. That's how you knew to flash me your TRUMP. You saw RESIST and pulled up beside me.
Holding your bumper sticker in your hand. In your Escalade. Where you were alone.
Could it be that you aren't proud enough of your candidate to put his name on your SUV? No, wait. It's not that. YOU LIVE IN NEW JERSEY. This state voted so blue that you can't tell the sky from the ground. This state is so blue that Elvis sings about it at Christmas time. It's so blue it needs Prozac. This state is so blue it could be a Viking's eyes. In this state, Dorothy and Toto go to the Sapphire City. NEW JERSEY IS THE FREAKIN PAST TENSE OF BLOW.
So while I can tootle around in my decrepit Saturn with my RESIST bumper sticker proudly displayed, You, jackass, run risks putting TRUMP on your Escalade. Your prissy truck could get keyed at the mall!
But wait. There's more.
You moved into my lane and got in front of me. You have a Cadillac. And yet when we got to the exit for Snobville, I was the one who exited, and you kept going down Route 70 toward Cherry Hill and its eight large synagogues. Was that your destination? Jersey tags, you must live in the area. But you don't live in Snobville. I do! Tra la la, Snobville went 65% for Hillary Clinton! I used to hate Snobville, but since those election results came in, I've been quite happy in my snobby home.
Stupid conspicuous consumer in your ugly high-end gas guzzler! Drive on. Alone. Right to the end of the road ... and then into the ocean. Because you should be shark food.
Sincerely,
Anne Johnson
Friday, March 03, 2017
Vulture is PISSED
Welcome to First Church of Vulture, Apostolic and Unreformed. Hear the voice crying out in the wilderness for the family of Vulture!
The great God Vulture has learned that a minion of the Satan with False Hair Growth has, with the stroke of a poison pen, re-instated the use of lead ammunition in the nation's wild lands.
Vulture deems this an abomination.
Lo, Vulture has spoken unto me the curse He will visit on those who propel poisoned metals into the flesh, fields, and waterways of our land. Hear the word of Vulture!
VULTURE CURSES HUNTERS WHO USE LEAD BULLETS
1. Your spouse and children will not respect you.
2. You will worry about making enough money for all of your days.
3. Your private parts will be the smallest and ugliest in any locker room.
4. Your descendants will wait eagerly for your death, so they can have your stuff, yea most especially your guns and ammo.
VULTURE CURSES CABINET SECRETARIES WHO LEGALLY ABET THE USE OF LEAD BULLETS
1. The horse you came in on will shit on your shoes.
2. Your private parts will be the smallest and ugliest in the entire Western Hemisphere. Babies will laugh.
3. You will have the boss from Hell. He will torment your days, and even when you no longer work for him, your former people will remember. And hate you.
4. You, and all of your lead-loving buddies will die and go to
LEAD BULLET HELL
Where demons in the guise of Disney Princesses will make rude jokes about your private parts while pelting you with molten base metals, the more pustular skin diseases, and the ragged remains of Remington rifles.
Thus sayeth Vulture: READ THIS WHILE YOU STILL CAN, AND REPENT! The fate of the California condor is at stake!
If the California condors don't survive this wretched setback, I can double guarantee and promise you that Vulture will lay a SMITE on this wretched nation that will make us all beg to become carcasses.
The word of Vulture for the people of Vulture. Thanks be to Vulture.
The great God Vulture has learned that a minion of the Satan with False Hair Growth has, with the stroke of a poison pen, re-instated the use of lead ammunition in the nation's wild lands.
Vulture deems this an abomination.
Lo, Vulture has spoken unto me the curse He will visit on those who propel poisoned metals into the flesh, fields, and waterways of our land. Hear the word of Vulture!
VULTURE CURSES HUNTERS WHO USE LEAD BULLETS
1. Your spouse and children will not respect you.
2. You will worry about making enough money for all of your days.
3. Your private parts will be the smallest and ugliest in any locker room.
4. Your descendants will wait eagerly for your death, so they can have your stuff, yea most especially your guns and ammo.
VULTURE CURSES CABINET SECRETARIES WHO LEGALLY ABET THE USE OF LEAD BULLETS
1. The horse you came in on will shit on your shoes.
2. Your private parts will be the smallest and ugliest in the entire Western Hemisphere. Babies will laugh.
3. You will have the boss from Hell. He will torment your days, and even when you no longer work for him, your former people will remember. And hate you.
4. You, and all of your lead-loving buddies will die and go to
LEAD BULLET HELL
Where demons in the guise of Disney Princesses will make rude jokes about your private parts while pelting you with molten base metals, the more pustular skin diseases, and the ragged remains of Remington rifles.
Thus sayeth Vulture: READ THIS WHILE YOU STILL CAN, AND REPENT! The fate of the California condor is at stake!
If the California condors don't survive this wretched setback, I can double guarantee and promise you that Vulture will lay a SMITE on this wretched nation that will make us all beg to become carcasses.
The word of Vulture for the people of Vulture. Thanks be to Vulture.
Thursday, March 07, 2013
Chris Christie's School Reforms Are a Disaster for Taxpayers
Well, I bet I earn a few stray views from non-regulars with that headline, huh?
If you're here because you think Chris Christie's so-called school "reforms" are a sham and a mockery, welcome! Here's a little tidbit of evidence that New Jersey's governor, hailed nationwide for trying to wrench aging teachers out of the classroom, is costing taxpayers more money than he will save.
This week, the Board of Education of Haddonfield, New Jersey passed its school budget for 2013-14. In New Jersey, municipalities (not counties) pay for the public schools. Haddonfield is a high-rent district that receives minimal support from New Jersey state government.
The school superintendent, when explaining the inflated budget number, said that the district would have to hire a new administrator at $75,000 per year to comply with the new state evaluation system for teachers.
That's $75,000 that the residents of Haddonfield have to pony up. This figure was not in last year's budget, because the administrator was not needed until Christie's evaluation models had to be implemented.
*99 percent of all Haddonfield students go to college.
*Haddonfield students earn the highest average SAT scores in Camden County. (Last June, 1,714. Source: Haddonfield Sun)
So the taxpayers of Haddonfield have to pay an evaluator to tell them ... what? That the teachers are "proficient?"
You know who evaluates the teachers in Haddonfield constantly, relentlessly, and candidly? The parents. There's absolutely no need for a $75,000 bozo in a tie (or heels). Nevertheless, the citizens of Haddonfield must pay this person, and the person must evaluate Haddonfield's teachers the way Christie wants it -- four times a year, twice formally and twice informally.
For those of you in other states, let me just add that all New Jersey administrators must be trained in the new evaluation techniques. This training brings highly-paid consultants into the state to lead lengthy seminars that will consume the time and energy of people who already know how to judge good and bad teachers.
All of this to root out a few ineffective educators.
Haddonfield, if you vote for Chris Christie, he'll fleece you for more needless bureaucracy in your schools. You know the schools I'm talking about. The ones that are falling apart at the seams and are filthy because the janitorial staff has been cut back.
Whose money is Chris Christie saving? Not mine. I live in Haddonfield, and I just hired a new nobody instead of giving the terrific teachers a raise.
Can I make a bold, reform-based suggestion? Let's find an evaluator to look at Chris Christie four times a year. Twice formally, twice informally. Is he proficient?
If you're here because you think Chris Christie's so-called school "reforms" are a sham and a mockery, welcome! Here's a little tidbit of evidence that New Jersey's governor, hailed nationwide for trying to wrench aging teachers out of the classroom, is costing taxpayers more money than he will save.
This week, the Board of Education of Haddonfield, New Jersey passed its school budget for 2013-14. In New Jersey, municipalities (not counties) pay for the public schools. Haddonfield is a high-rent district that receives minimal support from New Jersey state government.
The school superintendent, when explaining the inflated budget number, said that the district would have to hire a new administrator at $75,000 per year to comply with the new state evaluation system for teachers.
That's $75,000 that the residents of Haddonfield have to pony up. This figure was not in last year's budget, because the administrator was not needed until Christie's evaluation models had to be implemented.
*99 percent of all Haddonfield students go to college.
*Haddonfield students earn the highest average SAT scores in Camden County. (Last June, 1,714. Source: Haddonfield Sun)
So the taxpayers of Haddonfield have to pay an evaluator to tell them ... what? That the teachers are "proficient?"
You know who evaluates the teachers in Haddonfield constantly, relentlessly, and candidly? The parents. There's absolutely no need for a $75,000 bozo in a tie (or heels). Nevertheless, the citizens of Haddonfield must pay this person, and the person must evaluate Haddonfield's teachers the way Christie wants it -- four times a year, twice formally and twice informally.
For those of you in other states, let me just add that all New Jersey administrators must be trained in the new evaluation techniques. This training brings highly-paid consultants into the state to lead lengthy seminars that will consume the time and energy of people who already know how to judge good and bad teachers.
All of this to root out a few ineffective educators.
Haddonfield, if you vote for Chris Christie, he'll fleece you for more needless bureaucracy in your schools. You know the schools I'm talking about. The ones that are falling apart at the seams and are filthy because the janitorial staff has been cut back.
Whose money is Chris Christie saving? Not mine. I live in Haddonfield, and I just hired a new nobody instead of giving the terrific teachers a raise.
Can I make a bold, reform-based suggestion? Let's find an evaluator to look at Chris Christie four times a year. Twice formally, twice informally. Is he proficient?
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