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People who say it cannot be done should not interrupt those who are doing it. Welcome to From On High.

Friday, August 13, 2010

The Upside To The Down Slide

There is one - and only one - positive thing that has come out of the terrible economic downturn - the "double dip" that everyone was fearful of - that is taking place.  All that silly talk about "green shoots" of recovery has been quashed.

And thank God for it.

Not so long ago.

Oh, Why Not

This is getting to be hilarious:



How?

Does it matter?

That's a New One On Me

I'm a student of history. Which means I'm still learning it. And enjoy it when I do.

Here's a part of history of which I was unaware:
A cargo cult is a type of religious practice that has appeared in many traditional tribal societies in the wake of interaction with technologically advanced cultures. The cults are focused on obtaining the material wealth (the "cargo") of the advanced culture through magic and religious rituals and practices, believing that the wealth was intended for them by their deities and ancestors. Cargo cults developed primarily in remote parts of New Guinea and other Melanesian and Micronesian societies in the southwest Pacific Ocean, beginning with the first significant arrivals of Westerners in the 19th century. Similar behaviors have, however, also appeared elsewhere in the world. [source]
I learned of this this morning in a comment provided by Salt Lick:

Many folks are starting to compare America under Obama to a Cargo Cult.

The most well-known of these popped up after WWII, when primitive islanders saw huge flying machines land and disgorge material goods. When the goods dried up after the soldiers left, the villagers began building runways and control shacks, complete with coconut headphones for the "controllers," in the belief that these structures would make the airplanes and goods reappear.

Think of Obama the community organizer, watching America generate huge prosperity, but having no understanding of how a business works. Of Obama referring to the "profit-earnings ratio" [sic]. Of Obama saying, "Sooner or later, you've made enough money."

The dude is wearing coconut headphones.
An interesting analogy, if only because Obama seems to want prosperity to come to America again but hasn't the first clue as to how it got here in the first place. So he asks for, and obtains, legislation, thinking that will magically cause wealth to reappear.

And so he waits by the runway, signed legislation in hand, ... and waits ... and waits ...

On The Political Death Watch

When even the rabidly liberal MSNBC is kissing 5th District Congressman Tom Perriello's chances for reelection goodbye, you know the guy is dead meat.  This morning White House correspondent Chuck Todd had this to say about Obama's favorite Southsider:




One can cut 9th District Democrat Rick Boucher a bit of slack in that it's fairly obvious that he was strong-armed into backing Obama's coal industry-destroying cap-and-trade legislation, as well as backing that ill-conceived "stimulus" plan, and the various tax increases that he's voted in favor of, and couldn't help himself.

Perriello, on the other hand, has championed every one of the leftist president's leftist causes. With banner held high and sword at the ready. He was in the vanguard. Not a follower, like Boucher, but a leader in the effort that has crippled this nation so badly.

And now he's to pay for it.

He doesn't deserve to be beaten. He deserves to be crushed on November 2 for what he's done to us.

- - -

Okay, maybe I'm being too easy on Boucher.  After all, he does look awfully gleeful here:

Boucher On Immigration

Kinda weird but mesmerizing.

Here's the latest from Joe Nowlin's workshop: "Boucher On Immigration Reform":




Boucher's last words in the video sum up his position on this most-important topic.

You Hate To Read This

Troubling:

Youth Unemployment Hits Record High
 

The implications go way beyond the unemployment line.

Call It Whatever You Want

It is not marriage.

On Mexican Food

A commenter reminded me of another story from my days in the Southwest.  His/her comment from yesterday:

"hard to beat the legit tex-mex food in the el paso area. i have the best chili rellenos ever in las cruces NM."

I had flown into Albuquerque one afternoon on business and had, within several hours, completed my work.  I made my way back to the airport (in a rented Mercury Grand Marquis with GPS installed - my first experience with that fascinating technology - this would have been around 2000 or 2001).  I had time to kill before my flight to El Paso was to board so I went to a Mexican restaurant there in the terminal.

I sat down at a table, checked out the menu and ordered ... something.  Enchiladas, maybe.  The waitress took my order and asked me, "Did you want green chili with your chips or red chili?"

Having been raised on pork chops and fried potatoes - with Colonel Sanders occasionally supplementing my diet so as to get a complete and balanced regimen - I replied, "Say what?"

She repeated, "Did you want green chili or red chili?"

I had a pretty good idea what red chili was - and told her so - but I had to ask her, "What's green chili?"

She looked at me like I was a gringo (very perceptive, she was) and said, "How about I bring you a small bowl of each?"

I responded with a bit of trepidation, "Okay."

What could go wrong?

So this gal brings me my meal and the two bowls of chili.

I pulled the container of green chili toward me.

I picked up a spoon.

Ladled.

Inserted.

I thought I was going to die.

My mouth and throat caught fire.  My nostrils opened up.  My eyes started to water.  I couldn't breathe.  It felt like my tongue swelled inside my mouth and was bursting.  Beads of sweat formed on my forehead.  My arms were flailing as the room became disorienting.

Water.  I needed water.

But even that didn't help.  The sensation was overwhelming.

I slid the green chili to the far end of the table.

And tried the red chili.

My mouth and throat caught fire.  My nostrils opened up.  My eyes started to water.  I couldn't breathe.  It felt like my tongue swelled inside my mouth and was bursting.  Beads of sweat formed ...

I placed the bowl of red chili next to the green chili as far away from me as I could.

The chips were palatable.  As was the water.

So much for Mexican.

- - -

A side note: On that day I may have set - or at least tied - the world record for the greatest number of cars rented in different cities in one day.  I had started out the morning in Dallas, had finished up my work there, turned in my car to Hertz, and from there flew to Albuquerque.  I picked up that Grand Marquis, drove it to my next appointment, and then headed back to the airport.  I then flew to El Paso.  I arrived about 11pm, picked up another rental, drove to the hotel, and went to bed.

Ah, la vita loca.