So, who's next?

I'm still slightly ill at ease at the abundant number of Christians who are getting bent completely out of shape because somebody has the audacity to say "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry CHRIST-mas." Why is anybody upset because we don't feel the compelling need to say Merry Christmas? Like, get over it. It's not a sin to discuss the pagan holidays without reference to the Big X being missing. Man, talk about a pissed-off bunch of Christians ... like, lighten up. If somebody wishes you "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas," just tell them to get fucked ... in the true spirit of the Jesus season. Happy goddamned New Year. Now let's all get drunk and be somebody.

SANTA VS. THE SNOWMAN A story that you might believe, This happens every Christmas eve It’s when the winner gets to drive the sleigh. After all the daylight’s gone Just before there’s any dawn These two meet up without the need to play. No cause for fear or false alarm For down the road from Tucker’s Farm One of them is going to have his say. It seems this most amazing duel That happens every frosty Yule Is quite bizarre in nearly every way. The story that my father told Long ago, ‘cause now I’m old Was, “Santa doesn’t always drive the sleigh.” One night, I wandered to the farm Hoping that I’d face no harm And what I saw, I must explain today. To the left, old Santa stood As though he were a block of wood His face a somber shade of pewter gray. Not far away, up near the oak Adjacent to a gleaming cloak Frosty mulled this moment, said “OK.” Santa hunkered by the fence As now the battle would commence And I could tell that this was hardly play. The man in red

I take time to check the local reports around the country for their version of the fall colors. I guess I have too much time on my hands. Usually, it's the same story, depending ... not enough rain will make the colors dull ... too much heat will delay things. If your perspective is to look up at the trees, you might wonder how long it's going to take you to rake them - if they ever decide to fall. Which they will. I have an oak tree out back that is losing its leaves and I've learned to be patient. Leave them in place. By November, a big wind will come along and ... whoosh! Leaves are down the block. Fall is a nice time of year if it doesn't rain.

Evidence that other-world creatures have indeed come to Earth has been deciphered. At first, it made no sense. Naturally, the creatures speak and write in a different language. But the small bits of paper came together nicely for the students at Brainard College, N.D. Apparently, on one cold December night in 2002, the ship landed quietly in a bean field not far from where its inhabitants believed was a source of civilization. The lights in the distance were bright. Machines were moving about rather freely. The place was a 24-hour convenience mart. As it turned out, the bits and pieces of paper that were picked up by a group of Scouts who were cleaning the North Dakota roadside were unique enough that they caught the eye of their faculty adviser. He turned the scraps over to the Humanities Department at Brainard. Eight years of work have paid off. Here's what the scraps said. "We came to Earth in search of intelligent life and, finding none, we returned to our ship. Our comman

Apparently there's a debate afoot about whether America, as a "Christian" nation, is not doing the Christian thing by ignoring its poor. The premise, according to a comment by TV personality Steve Colbert, is that this isn't what Jesus would do. The conversation, I suspect, comes back to the Tea Party, which considers itself either Republican or part of the Christian Right, neither of which connects very well to poverty, according to liberals. Liberals, according to the Christian right, are actually "niggers and wetbacks." They don't actually say that because even the Christian right occasionally demonstrates some restraint. Truth is, nearly everyone born in this country in the 20th century is aware of the principles of Christianity. Part of that is connecting the religion to the lives of the poor. Generally, however ... and correct me if I am wrong ... the main goal is salvation of the soul. Needing a sandwich at the time is optional. My knowledge of bi

Most of the time, I believe nobody actually sees this blog, not that in the course of human destiny, it will matter. I lament sometimes that I think my best writing occurs on the blogspot pages. Recently, I took to trying to see who was looking at this blog and where they came from. Not surprisingly, most of it comes from the Fairfield website. A couple of other places yielded some returns, only after I asked folks to click on the site, providing them with the link. Curious, one of the hottest links is a place called Yandex.ru, which is "something" in .ru, which is the suffix for Russia. It's all in Cyrillic, so I have no idea who they are, why they are reading MY blog and what they got out of it. I don't intend to explore it beyond that. But I did notice that the little PacMan pie chart isn't being kind to MacIntosh.

What I've learned about most creatures on this planet, maybe humans too, is that when they come up against a rival species, or one they can't easily understand, they seek a secure environment and go from there. Mostly, the secure environment was assured before the creature ventured forth. As in, a squirrel isn't usually too far from a tree or a groundhog too far from a hole in the ground. Snakes usually can slither to cover. Chipmunks have some interesting skills, though, and one of them is their quickness. They dart for cover and when they are in the open, they move very fast. They can even climb. Mostly they are wary little buggers. And they know a good thing when they see it. Yeah, he's afraid of me. But he ain't stupid.

Back in the day, we were zealous in hewing out the goop and seeds from a pumpkin, not really caring what became of that stuff. How, we wondered, can you make a pie out of punkin guts? Never really getting an answer, we went about the business of hacking some triangles into the gourd in hopes of creating the most frightening jack-o-lantern in town. Yep, with a candle inside it, it glowed. Just like all the other jack-o-lanterns in town. Today, you can get kits to make carvings in pumpkins, all of which is a bit disconcerting to those of us who believed creativity came at the end of a 6-inch blade. Then again, Michael Myers ... what would HE do if he had to dig all that goop out?

If you are from Brookville, the second-best thing that can happen to you is to brag about how much fried chicken they cooked last weekend. Otherwise, beating Connersville in anything is a nice objective. Again this year, the Wildcats, who should still be the Greyhounds but haven't got the guts anymore to be that, beat the Spartans, who ought to be just known as the Spittoons. Connersville, as a place, is an infrastructure version of road kill. Brookville is just older with better trees. But the football team from Connersville is America's worst. 40-0.

I spent the better part of a year last weekend in various airports, buses, restaurants and venues on America's "Left Coast." Interesting places to see, not much real history, certainly forgettable in most cases once you get indoors. Seen one mountain in the distance, they all look alike. What I didn't admire was that nearly everybody there speaks something of a language that entitles them to not understand what I said. I have some ideas on how this happens in a place that's inundated with the fear that not being inclusive somehow will exclude you permanently from participation. So all the stores and eateries that are owned by people who don't speak English are hiring the college-age (read that: cheap) labor that speaks "some" English, which is interpreted by the non-English speaker as being "enough" English. Hey, I speak enough Spanish to ask somebody how to find somebody who speaks English. I can also, in Russian, ask a Russian where a U.S

Somebody in Italy is pissed off because seismologists didn't predict an earthquake that killed several people. I suppose had they predicted it and the folks had died anyway, well ... science is wonderful. I am thankful that the Italian legal system is more absurd than ours, though I suspect the profits aren't as great. Who needs god when we have a courthouse? QUAKIN' AND BELLYACHIN'

A woman says she was paid to make up a story about injecting her child with Botox. The reporter says, yes ... money was paid but nobody made anything up. Journalism that I used to know and love is full of crap. First off, everybody involved here is conspiring to create a theater of mistrust so that everyone involved makes a profit. Off the kid. Maybe the kid should have to pay taxes. Here's the story. Not as bad as the kid in the runaway balloon. BOTOX MOMMY

Penning my thoughts before the Rapture, wondering if there were people I have offended, cheated or dismissed as being irrelevant. Probably. For that, I am deeply sorry. I know in my Heart of Hearts that I should have been Saved, but after the hospital did such a nice job on me last year, I thought I was in the clear. Guess not. I need to scurry down to the bank before noon to open my account that the church can draw off its 10 percent. They will need that as the zombies come to the door, all seeking handouts. The Rapture has been forecast for some time, but like driving down the highway being alerted that the left lane ends in a mile because of road work, we ignore it, hoping somebody will let us in. Well, now it's too late. Nobody will let us in. The Time has Come to shake hands with Mister Demise. The pretty ones will get to be with Jesus. The rest of us will just sit around and sort socks. Socks. What a nice thought. Wait ... wait ... what? No Rapture. It didn't happen. Here

Having watched the same-old, same-old NCAA basketball flutter over the past few days, going on year after year, a few notions strike me as peculiar. 1. Does anybody realize that you can't really drive the lane when four opposing players are standing in it? 2. Are all the players black and all the coaches white ... on purpose? 3. Do the announcers take an oath that they will scream loudly into the microphone on every single play? 4. Is it apparent that the have-nots are in this thing because the haves need an easy game or two to create the illusion that competitive basketball is being played? 5. What the hell is the CBI doing?

I decided about a year ago that if my workplace didn't get better, I'd just retire. A week ago, I decided to retire. Frankly, I hope the newspaper industry gets what it deserves. It's been sold out to assholes who have no concept of reality, no notion of what the business was, or why. These are fruitcake nationalist wannabes who seem to think that if you give people no choice, they will learn to love their mundane existence. I think the protests are about to start. Lucky for corporate America, it will have demolished the one set of checks and balances that could have led to conversation, sensible debate and compromise. Frankly, I hope the revolt succeeds. I have all I need. Just don't leave your paper cups in my front lawn. Interesting, how this will play out. The three or four Benedict Arnolds who run our company will find work at the end of it. Eventually, they'll be cast adrift and freed to latch on as some sort of emissary with some social organization. Fuck the

I spent the entire summer not doing this blog for reasons that really aren't clear. Well, yes ... the reasons are clear. I didn't want to mess with it. But now I'm back, just to let YOU know ... and no, we will not go into a stupid Contours song from a stupid movie that wasn't at all about the title. So just getting warmed up here for the Big Spring. How 'bout them Lions?