Egyptian Fertilizer--er, Shit!

If he were not cremated, my dear departed Pat would be rolling over in his grave at this week's news.
Not that he thought much of the State of Iowa's original deal to give an Egyptian firm $100 million to build a fertilizer plant in Lee County (Wever), Iowa. "Iowa has to pay money to somebody to make shit? Shit! We got Shit!!" he said exasperated.
Real shit Pat was referring to is far better than the chemical Orascom (the Egyptian) is concocting and availability of the fake variety is destroying Iowa waterways and the Gulf of Mexico.
Last week,Orascom canned all the union workers, hired subcontractors who have gone to Texas to look for cheaper workers (Mexicans?). Rah yeah immigration! Rah yeah politicians whose policies impoverish the middle class.

It takes a wide Critical Eye to encompass the negative social and environmental impacts of the misbegotten decisions the Governor and his economic development department and I know we haven't seen them all yet.

RIP Patrick J. Kurt

The paucity of posts on this blog in the past couple months relate directly to Pat's illness:

     At 1:55 p.m. April 9 local raconteur and wit-writ-large Patrick J. Kurt, 72, (aka Walking Eagle) of No. 23 Claddagh Court, Cascade joined his parents, aunts, uncles, sister Joyce, brother Jim, friend Joe Gehl, fellow spinner Mike Ressler and the host of humanity in the halls of eternity.

    Peacefully as you please on a rainy Thursday.

    Officially diagnosed with liver cancer after the first of the year, Pat courageously chose no 2^nd, 3^rd or Mayo opinions, no Caribbean cruises, but to savor the days he had left at home.

    Days enlivened by a parade of Cascaders and out-of-towners, bearing cookies, cakes, pies, tidbits and tales. Baked goods he could not by then digest, but nevertheless loved excessively, took as evidence, and about which he was heard to observe in his inimitable fashion, “Dying is not half-bad!  Look at all this stuff!!”

   None of Pat’s exes lived in Texas, rather all in Salt Lake City, along with two daughters Tonya (Kim) Mosier and Terri (Wade) Tanner granddaughters Rachel Mosier, Courtney and Sydney Tanner.  After a short stint in Clinton and Moline as a railroad worker, he spent the shank of his iron-working career a staunch member of the Boilermakers Local #182, and briefly served as Union steward. Returning to his roots here June 2006.

   An avid golfer, he counted 3 holes in 1 as his some of his finest moments.

   He will be sorely missed by a wide circle of folks, some who didn’t even know his name because he had perfected a uniquely self-designed and delineated art: making a total stranger laugh within two minutes of sauntering up to him or her with some nonsense.

   Children as well as adults.

   Most acutely missed by the other member of the Sunday-Morning-Bloody-Mary-Uncle-Francis-Atheist-Society, S. Keyron, which met weekly guzzle and chortle over the ironies of the world locally and at large.
   Pat Kurt’s cremains were interred at Cascade Cemetery at 1:30 p.m. Sat. April 11, after which an open house to celebrate his life and levity was held in the gathering room of Claddagh Court.

   Memorial contributions can be made to the Cascade “Spy” Project or your local drinking society. Follow the Drinkin Gourd!

Feeling like Spring. . .

. . . watching flocks of robins cavorting in my yard and the park, as I struggle with the exacting language on the grant app for “Spy” Project. Spring too because a new donation of $200 from Gerry Volk Real Estate bring the total to almost $500 “True Story of Cascade’s “Spy” further insuring the project even if we don't get a grant.

The musicians are rehearsing, the lead is looking for a costume and working on her part. My dear, much-missed depart friend Dorth's (RIP, Jan.2013) daughter in NYC, a Harvard Theater grad has given me some valuable suggestions for subtle changes to improve “Spy” manuscript better, so I am very optimistic.

It doesn’t take a critical eye to see why my house is filthy, so if anybody wants to land here, please give me a heads-up, so I can hire a cleaning lady because helping Pat, there is no more time in my day!

Ferguson @ Home

So you think Ferguson, MO is the only community using strong arm police tactics to finance city courts and other functions? Wrong. Iowa City is apparently also in this reprehensible class.
With an array of health facilities here, Iowans, especially indigent ones, come from all over the state for medical appointments. Late last year, was stopped for not wearing a seat belt and fined an exorbitant $137. I contacted the court, provided it with proof that I am living on a fixed income below the poverty line and was given the choice to pay the fine or appear in court.
In court, a policeman with a fancy camera and computer and a lawyer made their cases about my criminal conduct.  I explained I did not attach my seat belt because I had to stop after a block as I was also picking up a loaf of bread for a home bound friend, but did not believe you could survive crash at highway speeds, so faithfully attach before getting on the highway.
Guilty as charged. Pay the fine.
When I complained about the cost, the magistrate replied, “You seem to think I have some discretion in these matters, but I don’t.”
I told him I thought was a court of law and should be fair, and this was not!

The Critical Eye of media has finally exposed the reality that government, which is supposed to be leveling the playing field is doing anything but!

The Uses of God

The various nefarious uses of “God” are dizzying. If there is a God, he/she/it must be enraged. When it comes to claiming divine sanction for actions, Jihadis are probably the front runners, but Chad Littlefield’s Mom ran a close second Wednesday.

After a Texas jury convicted Eddie Ray Routh of murdering her son and Chris Kyle immortalized—one might even say deified—by the film American Sniper, she claimed God granted her the verdict. Though Kyle and Littlefield were texting one another about how wacko they thought Eddie Ray was before he shot them. The Texas jury disagreed with them both and found him sane and cognizant of right and wrong. Nobody seemed to wonder about the effects of a blockbuster film on a jury pool.

Hard for a Critical Eye Q not to conclude that God is a man-made creation invented to sanctify whatever the believer wants. Chris Hitchens wonderful book God is Not Great, will give you chapter and verse.

The Unholy Obligations of the Teacher-Mandatory-Reporter

            As a retired, but still active (substitute) teacher I am required to maintain a current teaching certificate (i.e. send the state $) Blood borne Pathogen and “Mandatory Reporter” certificates. For the latter, last week I sat online for three hours and listened to a string of tawdry stories of abuse behavior collected by the Iowa Department of Health & Human Services and law enforcement across the state

Shockingly, the most prevalent class of abuse—over 80%--is denial of care, that is, caregivers of dependent individuals, who simply aren’t willing or don’t have the resources to make humane arrangements for children or adults dependent on them. Without ever analyzing the societal source of the problem: the poverty that I daresay afflicts many of the people who “commit these crimes,” the nurse who delivered the session repeatedly urged us to file a report.

I came away horrified at finding myself in this horrific position: Without knowing the specifics, on the basis of what little I can observe in a classroom, I am to turn in a caregiver! Fortunately, subbing less than once a week and in high school exclusively, I am highly unlikely to need to. In the interim, horror has given way to anger.

How dare we hang this burden on schools/teachers? Teachers used to be tasked with the intellectual development of a child. Now schools are being held responsible for the physical well-being of kids, teaching everything sex to driver’s ed. I have yet to see an expert make a correlation between all that is demanded of schools and their mediocre performance.

            It doesn’t take a genius—or a Critical Eye—to see something has to give.

Feeling Sorry for Brian Williams

Don’t you feel a little sorry for Brian Williams?

I mean he has compromised his long career, by doing what TV does every moment: exaggerating to the point of lying. Watch even a half hour, and you will be treated outrageous claims for everything from legal drugs to floor cleaners, to foods which promise health, perfect weight and physical beauty. Hype and lies mostly.The way to achieve those things, even after you purchased the potion, food, or machine is personal self-discipline. Which is of course, FREE, and there is no easy way to it.

Yeah, Williams is supposed to be a newsman, but TV, hasn’t been “news” since the days of Walter Cronkite and Eric Sevareid or maybe even before. TV is theater, it overlooks real for the flamboyant and sentimental, which is why we never heard about the Mortgage crisis till we were smack in the middle of it.

The only way to regard TV is with critical eye, like the liar it is.