Wonder if this was in the papers in Ferguson Missouri.
I cannot make this any clearer. I am so tired of this back and forth, ‘the cop knew’, ‘the cop didn’t know’. This article contains a phone conversation complete with English translation, about who climbed in the squad on top of whom, about who turned and ran back after the cop after being told to stop, etc.
Judge for yourself, but if you cannot come to the conclusion that Michael Brown was an aggressor and not even close to being an innocent victim, then something is wrong with your rationality. I am SOOO tired of white people having to defend their perfectly rational and correct actions because of some crowd mentality hooliganism by a bunch of nitwits that have huge chips on their shoulders.
I have to keep dragging out the story of the Irish families having to flee St. Mel’s parish, about being a member of a minority population, (me, 3 – 4%), about quit your whining and bitching and be the best you that you can be so you can be proud of your own fucking self and you can quit needing a bunch of ignorant misfits to validate your existence. Get with the program.
We are supposed to be a civilized Nation, a democratic Republic about to be over run and terrorized by godless savages that will cut your stupid fucking head from your stupid fucking shoulders in a trice, for no reason at all. So, man the fuck up and be an American, not an ethnic or minority this or that.
What the fuck is wrong with you people?
Photo Attribution: AP wire photo
My spouse is retired. He receives several pensions. His health is no longer A+. He “works” as a recruiter for a Fortune 500 company that deals in financial products. He is productive and useful but can come and go as he wishes. He enjoys it. He likes to talk. He likes to feel persuasive. He likes to “shoot the shit”. He likes to tell stories — most specifically, sea stories. This job is ideal for him.
They receive resumes primarily from Career Builder which is a service of Chicago Tribune newspaper. He will take 50 resumes at a time and call the applicant. Of fifty, 48 will go to voice mail. That is how vested in the job search the applicants are. After he receives voice mail twice for a single person, he will usually text message them. About sixty per cent of the text messages get answered. This is an interesting illustration of the way computers have changed our lives, but that is just an aside. Out of one hundred percent of the people he has contact with, thirty percent will say, “I am not interested in that kind of work.” Or, “I can’t see myself doing that kind of work.” This reeks to me of a sense of entitlement. He has encountered this reply so frequently that he has a rote rejoinder available which often opens up a discourse. He asks how that compares with what they are now doing which is usually nothing.
Of the small amount of positive feedback he gets, which would mean people want to come in for a “training” session telling them about the company, its resources and opportunities, (It is not Amway.) the figures once again fragment. Maybe fifty or sixty percent of those people will agree to come into the office. About sixty per cent of the people that actually are given an appointment to learn more, which is really all that is on the table at this point, will not show up. Of the people that show up, about eighty per cent of those enter the employ of this company. This is actually six to ten people a week. After that, it is out of my husband’s ken, and other variables come into play which may be worth analyzing, but not by this company as they do just fine with these odds.
When people talk about how hard it is to get a job, no one mentions how selective certain people are, how entitled other people feel, and how lazy some of the job seekers are. My grand daughter, who, to be polite, can best be described as a flibberty jibbet, was recently “handed” a full time job with a major US corporation that has plans to expand to Europe and offers a wonderful benefit package. She doesn’t like the 45 minute drive to work. But she might stay there. Her Blue Cross ID and her dental insurance card came in the mail today.
“You can’t please ‘em all.” (Joni Mitchell)
The last two full time jobs I had, someone knocked on my front door and said, “So and so needs a such and such. Want it?” One was short-lived. One lasted six years and was ‘plum”. The full time job before that, I walked into a light manufacturing plant in my neighborhood and said, “Are you hiring?” That job lasted six years and was an incredible amount of fun. They also paid my college tuition, but I had to turn down their other benefits as my husband had them.
Reality check time.
Photo Attribution: ohsoyoureawhat.com
Sarah Elle Emm’s husband! So much fun. Beautiful mouth-watering show, charming guy, Charles Mereday. Naples is an amazing city.
Now, this, I do not think, is a case of me being lucky. I have had my share of evil and/or ignorant teachers in my own school experiences. And, in terms of being a mom or a mom-substitute, (grandma) I have met a lot of teachers and a lot of school administrators on every single level. I have met teachers that would go so far out of the way to advocate for my child that they should be nominated for sainthood. I have had teachers with whom I have developed social relationships of long-standing because of classroom interaction with respect and knowledge involved that transferred over into friendship. (Yeah, Obviously not a creative writing teacher, eh?)
Long ago, when I was new to the blog world, I actually had ads on my site. I was amazed that, if I talked about my canary, a bunch of ads about bird breeders and equipment and services would show up on my blog. This stuff is old school now. If you have any experience with facebook, you already know that if you send an email, even through yahoo or g-mail, and mention the word “divorce”, six ads from divorce lawyers will show up on your facebook page. I don’t have ads on my blog anymore because I have been banned, (for interesting but inexplicable reasons) so maybe my remarks are tinged with bitterness. But, I am not really a mommy blogger or a humor blogger, or a book blogger. I am genre resistant. This is also a problem with my authorial adventures. I write stuff that cannot be crammed into a genre, and apparently, if you are not listed under a particular genre, you float around the troposphere, unnoticed and under appreciated. (Bitterness, again.)
They had what is called “selective mutism”. At the time I was living through this I never heard those words. I wish I had. But it is probably another case of being on the cusp of change. Anyway. . .They went to Headstart for two or three years. They never spoke a word. We kept them in the same classroom. Not the same actual room, but together in what ever school they were attending. I did a bit of research and even talked to some older sets of twins about whether it was better to put them in the same room or separate them. So in kindergarten they went to separate classrooms. They never spoke.