All Lies In Jest

The Boxer (cover) --Shawn Colvin and Allison Krauss




Another'n from Ms Krauss - Can't Find My Way Home (Blind Faith cover):

So, That Sucks

Some not very flattering things about KIPP (a charter school franchising scheme) are coming out.

From Schools Matter:

NEW YORK (CBSNewYork) — A Manhattan mother says her 5-year-old son was locked in a padded room at school, leaving the kindergartner so traumatized he had to go to the hospital.

Taneka Hall said the “safe-calm room” at KIPP Star Elementary School in Washington Heights is used while children are placed in “time-out.” But as CBS 2′s John Slattery reported, she believes the discipline is abusive.On Dec. 3, Hall’s son, Xavier, who has had behavioral problems, was put in the room — which is padded with a window in the door. The charter school would not provide CBS 2 with a photo of the room.

Hall said Xavier was in the room alone and grew more agitated.“So they put him in the safe room, and there in the safe room, he then peed on himself and didn’t allow any teachers to come inside, so they decided to call 911,” she said.

Xavier was taken to NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital to be examined. The mother said the padded room, which he’d been in before, frightened him...

I don't know exactly what a really good teacher would or should do with a kid who's having a tough time getting a handle on certain of his internal impulses, but I think maybe locking him in a padded cell ain't it.

A 5-year-old.

In Solitary-Fucking-Confinement.

They say KIPP stands for Kids In Prison Program.  I guess now we know why they say that.

Music

Don't Get Around Much Anymore --The Ink Spots

Today's Pix

Replay

In the late 70s, when Carter and our beloved Critters in Congress decided to bail out Chrysler by guaranteeing over a billion dollars in loans, I was pretty sure we'd seen the last of that money and once again, we tax-payers; we producers; we the people would just have to eat it and move on.  I was wrong about that one.

When Obama said we needed to make the same kinda move with Detroit (specifically with GM) in 2009, prompting every "conservative" to fall on the floor writhing in apoplexy, my memories of being wrong about Chrysler helped me confirm for myself the simple fact that the GOP has lost its shit completely and that I was absolutely right to have left those blockheads in the dust.

The U.S. Treasury today announced that it has sold all of the remaining shares of General Motors (GM +1.82%) common stock, ending four-and-a-half years of government ownership.

Taxpayers recouped about $39 billion of the $50.1 billion pumped into GM in late 2008 and 2009 as the Bush and Obama administrations tried to save the car maker from collapse after years of mismanagement brought to a head by a crippling credit crisis and economic recession. The sale will put an end to restrictions on executive pay, which will help GM attract top talent, and could pave the way for new dividends or share repurchases, both of which would please investors.

Historians, economists and politicians will continue to debate whether the bailout was a good idea, but there was no disagreement Monday that it was good for this episode to be over.

“The President’s leadership in responding to the financial crisis helped stabilize the auto industry, and prevent another Great Depression. With the final sale of GM stock, this important chapter in our nation’s history is now closed,” said Treasury Secretary Jacob J. Lew.

So if we hear anything about it at all, we'll hear about the $11 Billion it cost us.  We won't hear about the several hundred thousand jobs Americans didn't lose, and we won't hear about the (probably) hundreds of billions of dollars in saved &/or generated GDP, and we sure as fuck won't hear about "investment in American Industry".  We'll only hear about Gubmint Motors and how Obama's Secret Socialist Puppets on Wall Street (?) squandered all that money - which will conveniently make it just a tiny bit harder to remember how the GOP's Gov't Shutdown cost us close to $25 Billion while generating precisely dick in economic returns.

Some people.

And speaking of 'some people', did ya catch the bit about lifting the restrictions on GM Execs' pay?  Guess what happens next.

Sometimes, it's impossible to figure out who I'm s'posed to be mad at.  And I'm beginning to understand that that's kinda the whole fucking point.

Some Tunes

Snake Eyes --The Milk Carton Kids



swing low, swing low
for to carry me home
in fire the skies of red

my breath's gone cold
a kiss from the coal
a blanket of snow overhead

slow, holy roller
it's just rock and roll

hold your tears
where they've hung all these years
down from the heavens above

old snake eyes
you had better disguise
all that appears of thee

pray for love
from the heavens above
laid in the ashes below

And a Tiny Desk Concert via NPR:

Advertising Genius

Nice Try

I appreciate the attempts, but at some point this shit just ain't funny anymore.

Nerd Alert

WARNING:  

You are entering a Free-Ranging Science Area

Those choosing to remain ignorant must exit now.

Nerds are among my favorite people.  Because they know stuff.

Today's Pix

FauxRage Fatigue

If "conservatives" actually stopped pimping the War-On-Christmas, then what would we do without the annual Jon Stewart bit mocking them?

We used to get Christmas Specials on TV - Bob Hope and Andy Williams and Johnny Mathis and Bing Crosby and anybody else they could find who once upon a time had a tune in the Top 40 and who could still string a coupla heartbeats together.  Now we have this new holiday tradition:

Today's Pix

Some Tunes

Grapefruit Juicy Fruit --Jimmy Buffett




When The Feelin' Comes Around --Jennifer Warnes

Thanksgiving Poem

Kopis'taya (A Gathering of Spirits)
by Pueblo and Sioux writer Paula Gunn Allen

Because we live in the browning season
the heavy air blocking our breath,
and in this time when living
is only survival, we doubt the voices
that come shadowed on the air,
that weave within our brains
certain thoughts, a motion that is soft,
imperceptible, a twilight rain,
soft feather's fall, a small body dropping
into its nest, rustling, murmuring, settling
in for the night.

Because we live in the hardedged season
where plastic brittle and gleaming shine,
and in this space that is cornered and angled,
we do not notice wet, moist, the significant
drops falling in perfect spheres that are certain measures
of our minds;
almost invisible, those tears,
soft as dew, fragile, that cling to leaves,
petals, roots, gentle and sure,
every morning.

We are the women of the daylight, of clocks
and steel foundries, of drugstores
and streetlights, of superhighways
that slice our days in two. Wrapped around
in plastic and steel we ride our lives;
behind dark glasses we hide our eyes;
our thoughts, shaded, seem obscure.
Smoke fills our minds, whiskey husks our songs,
polyester cuts our bodies from our breath,
our feet from the welcoming stones of earth.
Our dreams are pale memories of themselves
and nagging doubt is the false measure
of our days.

Even so, the spirit voices are singing,
their thoughts are dancing in the dirty air.
Their feet touch the cement, the asphalt
delighting, still they weave dreams upon our
shadowed skulls, if we could listen.
If we could hear.

Let's go then. Let's find them.
Let's listen for the water, the careful
gleaming drops that glisten on the leaves,
the flowers. Let's ride
the midnight, the early dawn.
Feel the wind striding though our hair.
Let's dance the dance of feathers,
the dance of birds.

hat tip = The Rude Pundit

Today's Toon