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Stuck In Traffic Issue 02
Stuck In Traffic #2
by Calvin Stacy Powers
==================
Big Change In Cary
A church on Walnut Street has been torn down and a Krispy Kreme
Donut shop is going up in its place. It would be easy, typical,
to paint this as sign of the moral vapidness in Cary. But I don't
want to do that. There's nothing wrong with Donut shops. And
there are still lots of churches. Maybe the congregation moved to
a better location. Maybe they merged with another church. I bet
they didn't stop going to church and start eating donuts instead.
========================
Conspiracy Theory #4,562
That game show of game shows, The Price Is Right, doesn't make
sense to me. When the contestants are bidding on a prize in order
to get to come on stage to play the big games, the winner is the
person who has the closest guess to the prize's retail price
WITHOUT GOING OVER. I have never understood this. Why does the
person lose if he or she guesses to high? If an Item costs $1000,
person A guesses $800 and person B guesses $1001, then person A
wins. I ask you, does that seem fair?
I suspect that The Price is Right is actually a secret plot to
encourage fiscal irresponsibility among housewives in the United
States in an attempt bring down the U.S. Economy. Everyday
hundreds of thousands of men and women see this show and receive
the subliminal message that it's good to underestimate the price
of things they want to buy. Can increased personal debt be far
behind? How many broken family budgets can be attributed to The
Price Is Right? When Joe and Jane Sixpack appear before the
bankruptcy judge what will they be able to say? "Sorry judge, we
just wanted to win our part of the American Dream, so we made sure
our budget was under our actual expenses."
The Price Is Right is merely the tip of the iceberg. Who knows
what other seemingly benign aspects of American culture are
encouraging financial ruin among the populace?
==========
Eco-Alert!
And I thought Greenpeace was vigilant about protecting the
environment. But sometime over the past few years, someone has
stolen all the jungles throughout the world and replaced them with
rain forests. Who allowed this to happen? Were all the
appropriate environmental impact statements filed? Certainly no
one asked my opinion about it. I think I much prefer jungles over
rain forests.
I like jungles better because they are filled with wild animals
and exotic plants. In jungles there's a frenetic level of
activity. Animals are constantly on the prowl, eating and being
eaten. Some of the plants are dangerous, some are edible. Some
plants contain mysterious substances that can be used. A very
exciting place. Rain forests are peaceful, idyllic, garden like
places where it does little more than rain. Rain forests are
filled with warm, furry, mamby-pamby poster children of the
ecological movement.
I don't want garden-of-eden-like rain forests, I want jungles,
where the wild things are.
===========
Knicker Aid
According to a Reuters news story, British women are organizing a
campaign known as "Knicker Aid" to send their pre-diet
undergarments, particularly bras, to women in Russia, where a bra
can cost as much as a month's wages.
Now one level this seems pretty funny. It plays off all the other
-Aid suffixed charity campaigns we've seen over the past few
years. (I'm surprised we haven't seen an Aids Aid benefit
campaign yet.) Knicker Aid also plays off our stereotype of the
Russian people and Russian women in particularly, i.e., relatively
short and, ahem, heavy set due to their starchy diets.
But on another level, it just goes to show how simple acts of
charity know no bounds. You can bet there were no multimillion
dollar U.N. studies about the dreadful condition of the Russian
undergarment industry commissioned before Knicker Aid was
launched. You can bet that it did not require a gazillion dollar
loan from the World Bank. Instead, a bunch of individuals thought
it up on their own and just did it.
As far as I'm concerned, it totally validates the "thousand points
of light" concept of making the world a better place, which has
taken such a beating over the past few years.
============================
Politically Correct Football
There was quite a controversy here in North Carolina about the
naming of Charlotte's new NFL team. The new owners were under
considerable pressure to come up with a name that didn't offend
anyone. Not an easy task these days. So they came up with The
Carolina Panthers. Not bad. There's good imagery in the Panther.
And the Carolina Panther logo is designed so that the outline of
the Panther's head vaguely looks like the border between North and
South Carolina. The only problem is that, as far as I know, the
panther is not usually associated with this area. Oh well.
My father came up with the best suggestion for the Carolina's team
name that I've heard yet: The Carolina Croatans. As you may
remember from your childhood history books, the first European
settlement in America was "The Lost Colony" in North Carolina and
they mysteriously disappeared leaving only the word Croatan carved
into a tree, presumably indicating the native Americans in the
area.
In any event, it got me to thinking about just what sorts of names
for football teams would pass Political Correctness tests. Here's
what I and some friends came up with:
The Arizona Cardinals : The Arizona Spotted Owls
The Seattle Seahawks : The Seattle Sperm Whales
The New York Giants : The New York New Agers
The New York Jets: The New York Ozone Layer
The Washington Redskins: The Washington Public Servants
The Cleveland Browns: The Cleveland Rainbow Coalition
The Kansas City Chiefs: The Kansas City 12-Step Support Group
The Buffalo Bills: The Buffalo Brotherhood of International
Football Players
The New England Patriots: The New England Social Workers
The Los Angeles Raiders: The Los Angeles Recyclers
The Cincinnati Bengals: The Cincinnati Sensitives
The Chicago Bears: The Chicago Reformed Chauvinists
The Indianapolis Colts: The Indianapolis Indigenous Peoples
The Philadelphia Eagles: The Philadelphia Non-Profit and
Philanthropic Coalition
The Houston Oilers: The Houston Bio-degradeables
The Pittsburgh Steelers:- The Pittsburgh Natural Fibers
The Los Angeles Rams: The Los Angeles Leninists
The San Francisco 49ers: The San Francisco Friends of the Earth
The Tampa Bay Buccaneers: The Tampa Bay Socially Challenged
The New Orleans Saints: The New Orleans Primary Care Givers
The Denver Broncos: The Denver Disarmament Society
The San Diego Chargers: The San Diego Sandinistas
The Miami Dolphins: The Miami Maoists
The Detroit Lions: The Detroit D.A.R.E. (Drug Abuse Resistance
Educators)
The Dallas Cowboys: The Dallas Vegetarians
The Atlanta Falcons: The Atlanta Anti-Vivsectionists
The Green Bay Packers: The Green Bay Sustainable Agriculturalists
The Minnesota Vikings: The Minnesota Victims of Testosterone
Poisoning
=============
Reality Bites
Every now and then at work, Dana, who is my boss's boss, calls an
"area meeting" where he tells us what's going on, makes personnel
announcements, and stuff like that. It's traditional at these
meetings for him to provide munchies. It's sort of a bribe to get
everyone to show up. (My theory is that the reason we have to
have these meetings is so the managers will still feel like
they're "in the loop".)
So, a couple of weeks ago, Dana calls an area meeting and I
dutifully marched to the conference room with my colleagues. And
as per tradition, Dana had brought munchies. Cracker Jacks! That
caramel covered manna from heaven that rains down on blessed
children everywhere. Cracker Jacks! I hadn't had any in years
and years and I felt like a little kid again.
I was sitting in the back of the room so I was among the last in
line as the boxes were being handed out and I was nervously eyeing
the supply. I was terrified that they might run out before they
got to me! I was dancing on the edge of my seat like a
three-year-old. But Dana is a good man. There was enough for
everybody.
I don't think the design of Cracker Jack boxes has changed much
over the decades. At least it still looked the same to me. Still
the blue and white logo on the front under the name Cracker Jacks.
Still the pictures of caramel coated popcorn and peanuts. And
most importantly it still had the same spot on the side panel of
the box where you poke your thumb in to rip off the top of the
box. The same spot that still doesn't quite work. Unlike most
packaged products today that have crisp clean ways to open them
up, you can't be halfhearted about opening a box of Cracker Jacks
or the cardboard box will just sort of smush. You have to shove
your thumb into the side panel and rip the top off with gusto.
And I did! And ripping off the top of the Cracker Jack box was
like ripping a hole in the time-space continuum. It was like I
was simultaneously sitting in that conference room and reliving my
childhood.
I poured a handful into my hand and tossed a few kernels into my
mouth. YUK! WHAT WAS THIS CRAP? It had this heavy, heavy,
almost burnt taste and it was way too sweet. The popcorn was
stale and the peanuts tasted like charcoal. And the prize? You
would think that the prize would make it all worth while. At
least I could look forward to a miniature compass or a whistle or
fake tattoo or something. But NO. All it had inside was a
sticker of a Kansas City Royal pennant. Big deal.
I was so disappointed I couldn't focus on the meeting. I just sat
there, questioning my grip on reality.
=========================
"Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes." --Thoreau
====================
Learning From Rwanda
(Note: The following article originally appeared in
Claustrophobia magazine.)
President Clinton is sincere, I'm sure, about wanting to restore
the "democratically elected government" of Haiti. But his Haitian
policy is fundamentally flawed because it puts the cart before the
horse. He needs only to look at Rwanda to see the error of his
Haitian policy.
It wasn't until the Rwandan President, Maj. Gen. Juvenal
Habyarimana was killed in an unexplained plane crash in April that
the Rwandan crisis broke through the media barrier and captured
the attention of the world. But the recent Rwandan civil war is
just the latest chapter in a Rwanda's long, bloody history.
Rwanda's entire history can be told in terms of ethnic conflicts
between the Hutu majority and the Tutsi minority. Until it was
overthrown in 1961, the Tutsi aristocracy ruled the area, and
'extracted agricultural tribute' from the peasant Hutu farmers in
exchange for 'protection.' The sharp inequality between the two
ethnic groups was aggravated when Rwanda became an Belgian
protectorate under the League of Nations in 1899. But even under
Belgian and U.N. guidance the Tutsi continued to deny basic
education opportunities to the Hutu and even imposed forced labor
on many of them. It wasn't until 1961, with the support of the
Belgian colonists that the Hutu overthrew the Tutsi monarch and
Rwanda was recognized as an independent nation.
The Hutu, under Major General Juvenal Habyarimana, imposed a
single party state in which the Hutu-led National Revolutionary
Movement for Development (MRND) party was the only legal party.
Under the MRND, all citizens were required to carry ID cards
clearly identifying their ethnic origin. Tutsi were denied access
to government jobs, services, and education through elaborate
quota systems and all citizens were denied gun ownership. Hutu
extremists systematically persecuted and killed the Tutsi minority
with the tacit approval of the Hutu government. Over half the
Tutsi fled the country.
In the recent Rwandan civil war, the Tutsi led Rwandan Patriotic
Front (RPF) has taken control of the Rwandan government.
Considering the history between the Hutu and the Tutsi, it's not
surprising the nearly 2 million of Rwanda's 7.7 million citizens
are fleeing the country in fear of Tutsi reprisals.
And so there is a lesson to be learned from Rwanda's history and
recent civil war. A government is a reflection of the principles
to which its citizens already subscribe, not the creator of those
principles. And throughout the centuries that the Hutu and Tutsi
have shared the same land, each has abused government power to
persecute the other, regardless of the form of government. Julius
Paulus, a Roman jurist in the third century summed it up best:
"What is right is not derived from the rule but the rule arises
from our knowledge of what is right."
A government instituted among men who are not committed to peace
and who don't respect the basic worth of their fellow human beings
merely becomes a tool of oppression. Nowhere has this been more
painfully evident than in Rwanda. And if we're not careful, the
same mistake is going to be made in Haiti.
======================================
They Don't Write 'Em Like That Anymore
A couple of years ago, I used to get an electronic magazine called
Desperado. And it was truly one of the finest publications I've
had the pleasure to receive. It was something of a cross between
an apa and a 'zine. Sadly, it is no more. I suspect that the guy
who published it got laid off and no longer has access to the
Internet. Or maybe he just got tired of publishing it.
Anyway, Desperado was composed of odd stories and personal
comments that had been sent from the readers. The following song
was published in one of the last issues. To quote from Desperado,
"This just gills me." Enjoy.
Love guppy
You mean all the world to me.
Without you I can't be free.
You make me pant considerably.
You're my love guppy.
You have the finest rosebud's taste.
Without you my life is waste,
I'll stick to you like Elmer's paste.
You're my love guppy.
I'd break through a citadel.
I'd fight with a raging bull,
Though winning would seem improbable.
You're my love guppy.
My love's as strong as the mid-ocean ridge.
You shine like the rainbow bridge
or like that light inside my fridge.
You're my love guppy.
For you I'd consume haggis,
or lose the joys of Bacchus,
or live in sin with Mike Dukakis.
You're my love guppy.
No time's too long for me to wait.
For you, I'd fight against Fate,
though maybe you could lose some weight,
You're my love guppy.
Without you, I'd be not whole,
I would have to sell my soul,
or gulp a quart of Tide-E-Bowl.
You're my love guppy.
My passion is always mounting.
I'm like a geyser founting.
Well, maybe not, but who's counting?
You're my love guppy.
The love that is the more intense
always has the most silence,
like quiet bursts of flatulence.
You're my love guppy.
I know that my love is true.
I know that you'll love me too,
or I'll hold my breath 'till I turn blue
You're my love guppy.
I'd not forget you if I tried.
You make me all warm inside.
My love's as pure as Naugahyde.
You're my love guppy.
Then I hear the words let slip
From betwixt impatient lips,
"I want to have a relationship.
You're my love guppy."
==================
Truth or D.A.R.E.?
I recently read an AP news story sent to me from a friend of mine
about the Drug Abuse Resistance Education (DARE) program. This is
the government program funded by the federal, state and local
governments to try to fight the drug war in the classroom by
educating young children about drugs. The idea is to teach
children early on about the dangers of drug abuse so that they
will be better able to resist peer pressure to use drugs later on
in life. It sounds great. DARE is a tremendously popular
program. Politicians love it. The Police love it. Parents love
it. Teachers love it. Even kids seem to like it.
Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to work. The Research Triangle
Institute, based here in North Carolina between Durham and
Raleigh, recently completed an 18 month, $300,000 study of the
DARE program, commissioned by the Institute of Justice, which is
an arm of the Department of Justice. According to the AP news
story, the researchers concluded that "DARE imparts a considerable
amount of knowledge, but has only a tiny impact -- if any -- on
students' drug use."
Of course, this is not what the government wanted to hear and it
"invited" the researchers to "reevaluate" their conclusions. But
the researchers declined to change their conclusions. You would
think that if a program had proven to be so ineffective, it would
be dropped like a hot potato. But this is the government we're
talking about.
Can you imagine any public official, public school teacher, or
police officer publicly stating that the DARE program should be
disbanded? It would be political suicide. The peer pressure to
support DARE is just too great.
This reminded my of another story. The October 1994 issue of The
Atlantic Monthly has a scathing article about the failure of sex
education programs in schools. The conclusion is almost exactly
the same as the conclusion of the DARE study. Young kids today
know more about sex than ever before but there has no indication
that it works. In fact most of the basic indicators, such as
teenage pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases are showing
increases. And just like the DARE program, no one has the courage
to publicly call for the end of these programs despite the
overwhelming evidence that it doesn't work. How can anyone come
out against sex education?
I think there are two lessons to be learned from these stories.
First, it appears that objectivity and factual evidence take a
back seat to emotionalism and peer pressure when it comes to
public policy. We can moan and wail about how awful that is, but
it seems to be the reality.
But more importantly, these two stories demonstrate that knowledge
and values are not interchangeable. Teaching a child the
difference between uppers and downers and all the street names for
marijuana will not cause that child to place a higher value on his
or her health than peer approval. Teaching a young child how to
use a condom (and in some cases, distributing free condoms) is not
going to help that child make decisions about sexual morals.
School teachers, policemen, and social workers can teach
knowledge, but they can't teach values. Values, if they can be
taught at all, have to come from the family.
======================
Advice From Honest Abe
The list is the famous 10 Guidelines that Abe Lincoln used during
his administration to help him and his administration in making
policy and administrative decisions.
1. You cannot bring about prosperity by discouraging thrift.
2. You cannot help small men by tearing down big men.
3. You cannot strengthen the weak by weakening the strong.
4. You cannot lift the wage earner by pulling down the wage payer.
5. You cannot help the poor by destroying the rich.
6. You cannot keep out of trouble by spending more than your
income.
7. You cannot further brotherhood of men by inciting class hatred.
8. You cannot establish security on borrowed money.
9. You cannot build character and courage by taking away man's
initiative and independence.
10. You cannot help men permanently by doing for them what they
could and should do for themselves.
================
I'm Not A Sheep!
On October 1st, the Intermodal Surface Transportation Efficiency
Act of 1991 took effect. Under this federal law, any state that
doesn't voluntarily enact mandatory seatbelt laws and motorcycle
helemt laws will have their federal highway funds 'redirected'
into other programs. An entirely sensible law. I can't imagine
any politcian opposing it.
I would never argue against wearing a seatbelt. If you decide to
wear a seatbelt, I will applaud your common sense. However, I
typically do not wear one.
I choose not to wear a seatbelt as a small act of defiance against
a world that has run amok with common sense. I think it's time
the legislators and other well-intentioned busy-bodies realized
that everytime they force common sense down our throats with a law
like this, they kill something in our psyche. They kill the
thrill of taking risks, they kill the spontanaiety of life, they
kill individuality. The do-gooders are transforming us from human
beings into sheep. Safe sheep, mind you. But sheep nonetheless.
I know it sounds stupid for me to say that I refuse to wear my
seatbelt in an attempt to preserve my individuality, but in some
small way, it's true.
==================================================================
Stuck In Traffic is a bi-monthly e-zine edited by, and mostly
written by Calvin Stacy Powers. Copyrights of individual articles
are held by their respective authors. All unsigned work is
authored by Calvin Stacy Powers, who holds all copyrights.
Permission is granted to redistribute Stuck In Traffic provided
that it is redistributed in its entirety (including this copyright
notice), and that no fee is charged. For commercial
redistribution rights, or for permission to reprint/redistribute
individual articles contact Calvin Stacy Powers at
powers@rdu007.pdial.interpath.net.
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