Ten Commandments Backed by Bush Administration in Court Fight
Dec. 8 (Bloomberg) -- The Bush administration, saying that religion ``has played a defining role'' in the nation's history, urged the U.S. Supreme Court to permit Ten Commandments displays in courthouses.
from Bloomberg News
Okay then.which version? Now, that's a toughy. Which will they pick? The protestant version is awfully wordy, carving that into countless stone tablets would be costly, although I'm sure it would be a great boon to the Stone Carving industry, the Catholic version is much more cut and dry but many Fundies hate Catholics and see us as a cult or worse. They would definitely not stand for any papist nonsense cluttering up Their courthouses, and how about the Hebrew? Also, wordy and much less easy to digest - requiring thought a significant change in lifestyle not to mention a real bummer for the seafood industry.
This is the first step, see Saudi Arabia as an example of what the next steps could be. You start with the 10 Commandments and end up with The Religious Police.
from Atrios
Thursday, December 9, 2004
Making her list
“And checking it twice and then losing it and forgetting what she was supposed to do and making her list again and deciding the lost list had more things on it and trying to remember what those things were since they were obviously important enough to make the list in the first place and then second guessing herself ad invinitum…”
Man, how does Santa do this every year? It must be the elves. I need an elf.
So many things so little daylight to do them in. Its this time of year I really wish I had a treadmill for the Dogger. I could plug her in and then go run my errands. I’m sure she would be totally down with that. Or not. She would probably pee on it and make a mess or be scared of it and refuse to go near it. She is such a luditte. I try to introduce her to new technologies and she totally refuses to integrate them into her life style. If she was open to new things, with her cooperation, I could have taught her to use the toilet or a least a box, like the cat. But nooooooooo.
So this leads me to a Sophie’s Choice kind of place. But instead of choosing between children I’m forced to choose between taking Dogger on a walk and thus saving my sanity later in the evening, or going and mailing Christmas gifts to family and friends before the post office closes. The PO closes about the same time that Dogger and I need to hit the road and go for our walk; I can’t be two places at once. I could take Dogger with me to the PO, and then walk her around there after I finish up but the sun goes down around twenty after five and I don’t really want to be out walking around in the near dark. Dogger is afraid of the dark under the best circumstances and I don’t want her to get all riled up. I also don’t want to try to pick up dog poop in the dark.
Today’s list includes
1.Mailing dog cookies to kith and kin.
2.Finding a Hallmark with the ornaments I found online.
3. Wrapping and then mailing those to BFFs at home.
4. Finally putting the lights up around my front door because it’s on with the neighbors across the way, they keep adding lights and I have to protect my rep as the light show on our street.
5. Finally putting the ornaments on the tree, the all ready up and lit tree! Go me!.
6.Going to the store and picking up cat dust.
7. Deciding what I’m taking with me to see the parents this weekend
8. Packing above.
I mean the only good thing is my TV show does come on until 10pm, so I have all evening to get these done.
I have given my self one break though. I am not going to cook, bake, or otherwise build from scratch any food for the Holiday Party on Monday. I am going to bring bread. I’m going to go to Sams and buy a bag o’rolls and that is going to be my donation to the lunch. I’m not going to worry myself about bringing homemade food for these people.
I also at some point have to wrap those peoples gifts and make out cards for the also ran’s. Then remember to bring the gifts and cards, gift cookies, and rolls with me to work on Monday. I think I’m going to need to make another list.
“And checking it twice and then losing it and forgetting what she was supposed to do and making her list again and deciding the lost list had more things on it and trying to remember what those things were since they were obviously important enough to make the list in the first place and then second guessing herself ad invinitum…”
Man, how does Santa do this every year? It must be the elves. I need an elf.
So many things so little daylight to do them in. Its this time of year I really wish I had a treadmill for the Dogger. I could plug her in and then go run my errands. I’m sure she would be totally down with that. Or not. She would probably pee on it and make a mess or be scared of it and refuse to go near it. She is such a luditte. I try to introduce her to new technologies and she totally refuses to integrate them into her life style. If she was open to new things, with her cooperation, I could have taught her to use the toilet or a least a box, like the cat. But nooooooooo.
So this leads me to a Sophie’s Choice kind of place. But instead of choosing between children I’m forced to choose between taking Dogger on a walk and thus saving my sanity later in the evening, or going and mailing Christmas gifts to family and friends before the post office closes. The PO closes about the same time that Dogger and I need to hit the road and go for our walk; I can’t be two places at once. I could take Dogger with me to the PO, and then walk her around there after I finish up but the sun goes down around twenty after five and I don’t really want to be out walking around in the near dark. Dogger is afraid of the dark under the best circumstances and I don’t want her to get all riled up. I also don’t want to try to pick up dog poop in the dark.
Today’s list includes
1.
2.
3. Wrapping and then mailing those to BFFs at home.
4. Finally putting the lights up around my front door because it’s on with the neighbors across the way, they keep adding lights and I have to protect my rep as the light show on our street.
5. Finally putting the ornaments on the tree, the all ready up and lit tree! Go me!.
6.
7. Deciding what I’m taking with me to see the parents this weekend
8. Packing above.
I mean the only good thing is my TV show does come on until 10pm, so I have all evening to get these done.
I have given my self one break though. I am not going to cook, bake, or otherwise build from scratch any food for the Holiday Party on Monday. I am going to bring bread. I’m going to go to Sams and buy a bag o’rolls and that is going to be my donation to the lunch. I’m not going to worry myself about bringing homemade food for these people.
I also at some point have to wrap those peoples gifts and make out cards for the also ran’s. Then remember to bring the gifts and cards, gift cookies, and rolls with me to work on Monday. I think I’m going to need to make another list.
Wednesday, December 8, 2004
Happy Chanukah!
I have a little dreidel
I made it out of clay
And when it's dry and ready
Then dreidel I shall play!
chorus:
Oh - dreidel, dreidel, dreidel
I made it out of clay
And when it's dry and ready
Then dreidel I shall play!
It has a lovely body
With legs so short and thin
And when my dreidel’s tired
It drops and then I win!
chorus
My dreidel’s always playful
It loves to dance and spin
A happy game of dreidel
Come play now, let’s begin!
chorus
I have a little dreidel
I made it out of clay
And when it's dry and ready
Then dreidel I shall play!
chorus:
Oh - dreidel, dreidel, dreidel
I made it out of clay
And when it's dry and ready
Then dreidel I shall play!
It has a lovely body
With legs so short and thin
And when my dreidel’s tired
It drops and then I win!
chorus
My dreidel’s always playful
It loves to dance and spin
A happy game of dreidel
Come play now, let’s begin!
chorus
Kerik's Surveillance Activity in Saudi Arabia Is Disputed
Cabinet Pick Is Accused of Carrying Out Hospital Chief's Agenda
Since he was nominated last week to be homeland security secretary, however, nine former employees of the hospital have said that Kerik and his colleagues were carrying out the private agenda of the hospital's administrator, Nizar Feteih, and that the surveillance was intended to control people's private affairs. Feteih became embroiled in a scandal that centered in part on his use of the institution's security staff to track the private lives of several women with whom he was romantically involved, and men who came in contact with them, the ex-employees said...
"Kerik was a goon," said John Jones, a former hospital manager, who said he felt harassed by the security team. "They were Gestapo. . . . They made my life so miserable.".... "Kerik used heavy-handed tactics in following single men around and keeping them away from some women," said Ted Bailey, who was a doctor at the hospital and now practices in Indiana. Added paramedic Michael Queen: "Men and women had to be careful with security, but Bernie was the one we watched out for the most." ...
So, apparently, Bushs new pick for Homeland Security, really doesn't have a problem doing unsavory things for his bosses, has no problem with conducting inappropriate surveillance, and seems to share his bosses disinterest in personal privacy. He'll fit right in.
full story here, Washington Post.
Cabinet Pick Is Accused of Carrying Out Hospital Chief's Agenda
Since he was nominated last week to be homeland security secretary, however, nine former employees of the hospital have said that Kerik and his colleagues were carrying out the private agenda of the hospital's administrator, Nizar Feteih, and that the surveillance was intended to control people's private affairs. Feteih became embroiled in a scandal that centered in part on his use of the institution's security staff to track the private lives of several women with whom he was romantically involved, and men who came in contact with them, the ex-employees said...
"Kerik was a goon," said John Jones, a former hospital manager, who said he felt harassed by the security team. "They were Gestapo. . . . They made my life so miserable.".... "Kerik used heavy-handed tactics in following single men around and keeping them away from some women," said Ted Bailey, who was a doctor at the hospital and now practices in Indiana. Added paramedic Michael Queen: "Men and women had to be careful with security, but Bernie was the one we watched out for the most." ...
So, apparently, Bushs new pick for Homeland Security, really doesn't have a problem doing unsavory things for his bosses, has no problem with conducting inappropriate surveillance, and seems to share his bosses disinterest in personal privacy. He'll fit right in.
full story here, Washington Post.
Clap real hard kids...
"Why do we soldiers have to dig through local landfills for pieces of scrap metal and compromised ballistic glass to uparmor our vehicles?" Wilson asked. A big cheer arose from the approximately 2,300 soldiers in the cavernous hangar who assembled to see and hear the secretary of defense.
"You can have all the armor in the world on a tank and it can (still) be blown up," Rumsfeld said.
The troops wish they were in tanks you supercilious son of a bitch!
Asked later about Wilson's complaint, the deputy commanding general of U.S. forces in Kuwait, Maj. Gen. Gary Speer, said in an interview that as far as he knows, every vehicle that is deploying to Iraq from Camp Buehring in Kuwait has at least "Level 3" armor. That means it at least has locally fabricated armor for its side panels, but not necessarily bulletproof windows or protection against explosions that penetrate the floorboard" Speer said he was not aware that soldiers were searching landfills for scrap metal and used bulletproof glass.
"Not Aware?!" I'm aware of that! God! They want us to "support the troops" when they aren't even trying. "Support The Troops hard enough kids and Sgt. Tinker might not get blown up! I can't hear you! The public just isn't supporting the troops enough! We want to see more magnets! You aren't supporting the troops enough! Poor Tinker just lost his leg! Bad public!". I guess we could send them all those yellow ribbon magnets over there and they could just pile those up on their vehicles.
Full story here.
"Why do we soldiers have to dig through local landfills for pieces of scrap metal and compromised ballistic glass to uparmor our vehicles?" Wilson asked. A big cheer arose from the approximately 2,300 soldiers in the cavernous hangar who assembled to see and hear the secretary of defense.
"You can have all the armor in the world on a tank and it can (still) be blown up," Rumsfeld said.
The troops wish they were in tanks you supercilious son of a bitch!
Asked later about Wilson's complaint, the deputy commanding general of U.S. forces in Kuwait, Maj. Gen. Gary Speer, said in an interview that as far as he knows, every vehicle that is deploying to Iraq from Camp Buehring in Kuwait has at least "Level 3" armor. That means it at least has locally fabricated armor for its side panels, but not necessarily bulletproof windows or protection against explosions that penetrate the floorboard" Speer said he was not aware that soldiers were searching landfills for scrap metal and used bulletproof glass.
"Not Aware?!" I'm aware of that! God! They want us to "support the troops" when they aren't even trying. "Support The Troops hard enough kids and Sgt. Tinker might not get blown up! I can't hear you! The public just isn't supporting the troops enough! We want to see more magnets! You aren't supporting the troops enough! Poor Tinker just lost his leg! Bad public!". I guess we could send them all those yellow ribbon magnets over there and they could just pile those up on their vehicles.
Full story here.
Doing Lunch
My first plan for lunch was to go home pick up a couple of things I want to get in the mail and hit the post office. Then the power went off at the office and I had some time to think about the prospect of trying to mail things over the lunch hour and I decided to make other plans.
I voted for taking my book and going to Wendy’s. I like Wendy’s, or actually I like my Wendy’s. The company is probably owned by the GOP and the corporate office staffed by raging neocons and the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz, but I have learned to like their french fries and the store is on the right side of the street so I can avoid a nasty lunch hour u-turn situation.
Anyway. I leave the office and hit the Wendy’s. There is a tour bus outside. Terrific. I walk in the door and find it was a tour bus filled with uniformed junior high kids. Blech. The tour bus, the chillrin and the french fries become moot when I open my purse and my wallet isn’t there. I thought for one moment as I was leaving for lunch that my purse seemed a little light, but I chalked it up to leaving my cell at home. No. The cell was in the purse. The wallet was not.
Where was the wallet? The wallet was at home in the pocket of the coat I wore for Doggers run. I always bring some ID with me in case the PTB decided that today is the day to enforce the No Dogs Allowed part of the posted official rules of use for the ball field. So I bring my wallet. Makes no sense whatsoever, because if I get kicked out by the rec center folks, they are not going to be checking my ID against known terrorists, but you never know. Tom Ridge has not yet left the building and Rumsefeild refuses to go. It is smart to be prepared.
Last night after Doggers run, I went to the grocery because I ran out of soda and I can not run out of soda. It’s a law. It may not be on the state books but if you look it’s a codicil to some pork barrel project. I don’t get why they singled me out for this law but they did. I have to have soda in my house at all times, but I do. I’m law abiding.
So. In the door way of the grocery - Again I go somewhere and realize too late I don’t have something I need. In this case, I need my check book which lives in my purse which is back at home because I don’t want to take it with me when I take Dogger for her run and leave it in the car in the lot because There Is A Chance it’ll get stolen. Not that I have any evidence that are purse thieves are running roughshod through the neighborhood, there might be little nascent purse thieves just looking for the opportunity to hit the big time and they might get that chance if my purse was left unprotected in my car all because I need to buy cat dust. So. No cat dust for me. I could have picked up the dust but I don’t want to burn all my cash on household crap. I want to burn it all on Happy Meal Toys and trips to the Flea Market.
Instead of reading my book and enjoying my lunch hour, I rushed home, rescued my wallet, laid out clothes so I can run right back out the door when I get home after work so Dogger can have that 5 extra minutes to run around before it gets dark, hit the KFC and still made it back to the office in under an hour. I rock.
My first plan for lunch was to go home pick up a couple of things I want to get in the mail and hit the post office. Then the power went off at the office and I had some time to think about the prospect of trying to mail things over the lunch hour and I decided to make other plans.
I voted for taking my book and going to Wendy’s. I like Wendy’s, or actually I like my Wendy’s. The company is probably owned by the GOP and the corporate office staffed by raging neocons and the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz, but I have learned to like their french fries and the store is on the right side of the street so I can avoid a nasty lunch hour u-turn situation.
Anyway. I leave the office and hit the Wendy’s. There is a tour bus outside. Terrific. I walk in the door and find it was a tour bus filled with uniformed junior high kids. Blech. The tour bus, the chillrin and the french fries become moot when I open my purse and my wallet isn’t there. I thought for one moment as I was leaving for lunch that my purse seemed a little light, but I chalked it up to leaving my cell at home. No. The cell was in the purse. The wallet was not.
Where was the wallet? The wallet was at home in the pocket of the coat I wore for Doggers run. I always bring some ID with me in case the PTB decided that today is the day to enforce the No Dogs Allowed part of the posted official rules of use for the ball field. So I bring my wallet. Makes no sense whatsoever, because if I get kicked out by the rec center folks, they are not going to be checking my ID against known terrorists, but you never know. Tom Ridge has not yet left the building and Rumsefeild refuses to go. It is smart to be prepared.
Last night after Doggers run, I went to the grocery because I ran out of soda and I can not run out of soda. It’s a law. It may not be on the state books but if you look it’s a codicil to some pork barrel project. I don’t get why they singled me out for this law but they did. I have to have soda in my house at all times, but I do. I’m law abiding.
So. In the door way of the grocery - Again I go somewhere and realize too late I don’t have something I need. In this case, I need my check book which lives in my purse which is back at home because I don’t want to take it with me when I take Dogger for her run and leave it in the car in the lot because There Is A Chance it’ll get stolen. Not that I have any evidence that are purse thieves are running roughshod through the neighborhood, there might be little nascent purse thieves just looking for the opportunity to hit the big time and they might get that chance if my purse was left unprotected in my car all because I need to buy cat dust. So. No cat dust for me. I could have picked up the dust but I don’t want to burn all my cash on household crap. I want to burn it all on Happy Meal Toys and trips to the Flea Market.
Instead of reading my book and enjoying my lunch hour, I rushed home, rescued my wallet, laid out clothes so I can run right back out the door when I get home after work so Dogger can have that 5 extra minutes to run around before it gets dark, hit the KFC and still made it back to the office in under an hour. I rock.
Tuesday, December 7, 2004
December 7, 2004
Another day that should live in infamy. Bushit begins to wear military style "uniforms", slides into "Generalissomo" territory , full on fascism to commence in 3, 2, 1...
You knew he would do it, they all do.
note to self start on "It Can't Happen Here" before it does happen here.
from Atrios
Another day that should live in infamy. Bushit begins to wear military style "uniforms", slides into "Generalissomo" territory , full on fascism to commence in 3, 2, 1...
You knew he would do it, they all do.
note to self start on "It Can't Happen Here" before it does happen here.
from Atrios
Bush supporters on parade
The arch typical Bush voter. Hee! Poor white trash and an alleged child molester.
from Atrios
The arch typical Bush voter. Hee! Poor white trash and an alleged child molester.
from Atrios
Dogutante
Dogger went to her first Dog Park.
I had very low expectations of Dogger at the park. She presided to lower them on the car ride over by repeatedly trying to climb over the seat to get a better angle on Bandits ears. When she wasn’t yipping she was whining. I was starting to think she might just stay in the car.
Then we got there. I really began to think her and me and the dog world at large would be much better off if she just stayed in the car. Just getting her out of the car was a test of how much weight it would take traveling at what speed to knock me over. It isn’t much. Dogger was disappointing me and we hadn’t cleared the parking lot yet.
And then she saw the other dogs. It’s not a moment I want to dwell on, suffice to say there were dogs and dog owners scattering out of our wake as quickly as their four feet could take them. It was a like a Dog version of Twister or Bowling For Puppies. She’s big, she’s raucous and she’s heading for you! Run for your lives!
We finally got the Dog Park proper. Winston and Bandit had been taking a cue from Dogger and had been singing, but unlike Dogger they still remembered who they were and were walking like gentle dogs. Brodsky’s arm wasn’t torn from his body or anything. They were vocal but well behaved.
We paused before going further. Is this what we should really be doing? Are the dogs ready for this? Maybe we should just walk them, some where else maybe, like away from all these other dogs. We stood there and waited for an opening.
Finally, there seemed to be a break in the flow of small, eatable little dogs and we made our entry.
Winston and Bandit fit right in. They stood around for a while and then joined in the dog fun. Dogger was still making shrill noises and doing her best to separate my shoulder from my arm. Fun!
We walked around the perimeter to check out the space and scope out any likely targets. I wandered around looking at the owners. How can they be so calm? How are they not following their dogs around? How can everybody be so unstressed out? Don’t they know that Dogger is there? There were a lot of little snack sized ears wandering around and Dogger was licking her lips in anticipation of all the available ears to gnaw. I was checking my pockets for a stray antacid .
I was finally prevailed upon to let lose the Dogger. I waited for the yowls of the snacked upon and the shrieks of their people. And I waited. And waited.
Nothing. Dogger wandered around meeting and greeting and not eating! She spent most of her time sitting by me, but she would leave me to go sniff an interesting looking clump of weeds or say hi to a random dog. She wasn’t trying to eat any of them. She went up to the dog owners and sat very politely next to them and asked to be pet. She didn’t pee on anyone or jump up or freak out or any of the things she does routinely in real life. She just wandering up and took her seat, suggested that her head needed to be scratched or she wouldn’t be unwilling to be attended to, or not, sometimes she just came up and stood next to them. I was and am shocked.
I kept waiting for the other paw to fall – for some dog to sniff just a little too long, for a small dog to get too close and need its tender ears sampled, for Dogger to see a person who looked like they wanted a 100 pound dog to try to vault over their head…
Nothing. She wasn’t my dog. She was another dog, a good dog. She didn’t snap at anyone or join in any unpleasant altercations. She was an excellent dog citizen. She had a great time, I had a great time.
Dogger went to her first Dog Park.
I had very low expectations of Dogger at the park. She presided to lower them on the car ride over by repeatedly trying to climb over the seat to get a better angle on Bandits ears. When she wasn’t yipping she was whining. I was starting to think she might just stay in the car.
Then we got there. I really began to think her and me and the dog world at large would be much better off if she just stayed in the car. Just getting her out of the car was a test of how much weight it would take traveling at what speed to knock me over. It isn’t much. Dogger was disappointing me and we hadn’t cleared the parking lot yet.
And then she saw the other dogs. It’s not a moment I want to dwell on, suffice to say there were dogs and dog owners scattering out of our wake as quickly as their four feet could take them. It was a like a Dog version of Twister or Bowling For Puppies. She’s big, she’s raucous and she’s heading for you! Run for your lives!
We finally got the Dog Park proper. Winston and Bandit had been taking a cue from Dogger and had been singing, but unlike Dogger they still remembered who they were and were walking like gentle dogs. Brodsky’s arm wasn’t torn from his body or anything. They were vocal but well behaved.
We paused before going further. Is this what we should really be doing? Are the dogs ready for this? Maybe we should just walk them, some where else maybe, like away from all these other dogs. We stood there and waited for an opening.
Finally, there seemed to be a break in the flow of small, eatable little dogs and we made our entry.
Winston and Bandit fit right in. They stood around for a while and then joined in the dog fun. Dogger was still making shrill noises and doing her best to separate my shoulder from my arm. Fun!
We walked around the perimeter to check out the space and scope out any likely targets. I wandered around looking at the owners. How can they be so calm? How are they not following their dogs around? How can everybody be so unstressed out? Don’t they know that Dogger is there? There were a lot of little snack sized ears wandering around and Dogger was licking her lips in anticipation of all the available ears to gnaw. I was checking my pockets for a stray antacid .
I was finally prevailed upon to let lose the Dogger. I waited for the yowls of the snacked upon and the shrieks of their people. And I waited. And waited.
Nothing. Dogger wandered around meeting and greeting and not eating! She spent most of her time sitting by me, but she would leave me to go sniff an interesting looking clump of weeds or say hi to a random dog. She wasn’t trying to eat any of them. She went up to the dog owners and sat very politely next to them and asked to be pet. She didn’t pee on anyone or jump up or freak out or any of the things she does routinely in real life. She just wandering up and took her seat, suggested that her head needed to be scratched or she wouldn’t be unwilling to be attended to, or not, sometimes she just came up and stood next to them. I was and am shocked.
I kept waiting for the other paw to fall – for some dog to sniff just a little too long, for a small dog to get too close and need its tender ears sampled, for Dogger to see a person who looked like they wanted a 100 pound dog to try to vault over their head…
Nothing. She wasn’t my dog. She was another dog, a good dog. She didn’t snap at anyone or join in any unpleasant altercations. She was an excellent dog citizen. She had a great time, I had a great time.
Monday, December 6, 2004
FUAX News gets Clear
Clear Channel Signs on FAUX News for primary news source . So, now the conglomerate with the most stations and the most ears listening to its stations can now do an even better job of brain washing Muricans. I'm sure the admin is thrilled with this new development, now folks won't have to just listen to Rush Limpdick for their news, they can turn on any radio station at any time and find just what they are looking for: Unfair and Unbalanced infotainment with a the administrations stamp of approval to the days events. We are all doomed.
I'm kind of surprised that this hadn't all ready happened. What took them so long to embrace the misinformation syndergy?
from The Raw Story
Clear Channel Signs on FAUX News for primary news source . So, now the conglomerate with the most stations and the most ears listening to its stations can now do an even better job of brain washing Muricans. I'm sure the admin is thrilled with this new development, now folks won't have to just listen to Rush Limpdick for their news, they can turn on any radio station at any time and find just what they are looking for: Unfair and Unbalanced infotainment with a the administrations stamp of approval to the days events. We are all doomed.
I'm kind of surprised that this hadn't all ready happened. What took them so long to embrace the misinformation syndergy?
from The Raw Story
Model City?
Why does this idea sound so familiar?, hmmm... I will run you from your home, I will take away your transportation, I will force you into work details, I will control your life? and then I will tell you it is for your own good? This isn't going to end well for any of us. Do we really want this kind of thing, these pseudo ghettos to be our legacy? Thank you red states! Thank you Bush Voters!
from Steve Gilliard
Why does this idea sound so familiar?, hmmm... I will run you from your home, I will take away your transportation, I will force you into work details, I will control your life? and then I will tell you it is for your own good? This isn't going to end well for any of us. Do we really want this kind of thing, these pseudo ghettos to be our legacy? Thank you red states! Thank you Bush Voters!
from Steve Gilliard
Yeah. Right
I got the assignment of putting up the office Christmas Tree. Operative word “Office”, it’s the tree for the whole office, it is Our Tree. I put up Our Tree.
People around the office are all about “team work” and working together as a team, and the joys of blah blah team stuff, until there is actual Work to be done. Suddenly the office isn’t about team work its about one of you being a long distance runner and everyone else standing on the sidelines drinking hot chocolate and chatting about minivans.
I take the key to the closet where the tree lives in between gigs. I see only one tree. On the top shelf. I haul it down and try to not hate the whole world. Fail at this.
I get the tree to the buildings Official Christmas Tree location and leave it there to go do my real job. An elf comes to my office and suggests that maybe the tree I hauled off the top shelf and dragged down the hall is not the right tree.
Elf - Is that the tree from last year?
Me - I think so.
Elf - Are you sure? Do we have another tree?
Me - Why would we have two trees? That tree is the tree.
Elf - Could you go check?
Me - I didn’t see two tree boxes.
Elf - I think there is another one there. Go check.
Me - Grumble, grumble, hatehatehate
And what to my wondering eyes do appear?
There is another box.
I drag Tree One back to the closet and heft Tree Two back down the hallway. Tree Two is much less fun to carry by myself. I leave Tree Two in the hallway.
Later, after I recovered from the wrong tree trauma and I’m ready to go. How do you assemble your tree? Do these limbs have little color coded stickers on them? Are they different sizes? Is there a chart? A map? There is something that tells you in what order you put them on. I know there is. Tree Two does not have directions. I have a box full of limbs some with color coded stickys and some with out. Some of the limbs seem to be shorter then others, but its hard to tell. They all look alike. I am sitting in the middle of the hallway surrounded by piles of fake tree limbs in front of a treeesque pole. Every single person that passes me says some variation on “So, are you got the job of putting the tree up?”. I’m sitting with a tree box, piles of tree limbs and a tree. No asshole, I’m doing my taxes! After the eighth variation, I felt like saying “No, not my job. This is a guerilla action. I just grabbed the tree and I’m putting it up. I don’t care who’s “job” it is. I’m doing it!”.
Eventually, after much cursing and limb throwing, I got the tree up. It looks very tree like, more or less. It looks like it looks every year. I stand and admire my creation.
Elf #2 -“Was it taller last year?”
Me -I don’t think so. I think it was this same height.
Elf #2 - “Did we have a different tree?”.
Me - No, this tree.
Elf #2 - It needs to be taller.
Me - Kneel. It makes it look taller.
Elf #2 disappears and comes back with phone books. She wants me to go get more phone books. We lift up the now fully assembled tree and slide lifts under it.
Elf #2 goes away because she knows what’s next.
The Lights. The less said about this the better. I went to lunch hopeful that some elves would take pity or some initiative and finish the tree. I come back from lunch. The tree is still naked and dark. I get the lights on the tree. Because I didn’t actually kill anyone while I was trying to assemble it, the lights work. Thank You God.
Now, I start to put the ornaments on the tree. Its pretty obvious what I’m doing. So:
- “Getting the Christmas Spirit?”
-“Getting the Christmas Spirit?”
-“Decorating the tree?”
-“Hey! That’s the spirit!”
-“You putting the tree up?”
-“You need Christmas Carols - La, La, La....”
-“Getting the Christmas Spirit?”
-“You got the job of putting the tree up?”
-“Getting the Christmas Spirit?”
After the ninth time I hear “Getting the Christmas Spirit?” I choke back the urge to reply “No, after watching you walk up and down the hallway all damn morning and not even trying to help me, I had the Christmas Spirit, but I lost it. Now, I hate everybody and its ALL YOUR FAULT!”.
p.s - I am Not taking it down after the holiday.
I got the assignment of putting up the office Christmas Tree. Operative word “Office”, it’s the tree for the whole office, it is Our Tree. I put up Our Tree.
People around the office are all about “team work” and working together as a team, and the joys of blah blah team stuff, until there is actual Work to be done. Suddenly the office isn’t about team work its about one of you being a long distance runner and everyone else standing on the sidelines drinking hot chocolate and chatting about minivans.
I take the key to the closet where the tree lives in between gigs. I see only one tree. On the top shelf. I haul it down and try to not hate the whole world. Fail at this.
I get the tree to the buildings Official Christmas Tree location and leave it there to go do my real job. An elf comes to my office and suggests that maybe the tree I hauled off the top shelf and dragged down the hall is not the right tree.
Elf - Is that the tree from last year?
Me - I think so.
Elf - Are you sure? Do we have another tree?
Me - Why would we have two trees? That tree is the tree.
Elf - Could you go check?
Me - I didn’t see two tree boxes.
Elf - I think there is another one there. Go check.
Me - Grumble, grumble, hatehatehate
And what to my wondering eyes do appear?
There is another box.
I drag Tree One back to the closet and heft Tree Two back down the hallway. Tree Two is much less fun to carry by myself. I leave Tree Two in the hallway.
Later, after I recovered from the wrong tree trauma and I’m ready to go. How do you assemble your tree? Do these limbs have little color coded stickers on them? Are they different sizes? Is there a chart? A map? There is something that tells you in what order you put them on. I know there is. Tree Two does not have directions. I have a box full of limbs some with color coded stickys and some with out. Some of the limbs seem to be shorter then others, but its hard to tell. They all look alike. I am sitting in the middle of the hallway surrounded by piles of fake tree limbs in front of a treeesque pole. Every single person that passes me says some variation on “So, are you got the job of putting the tree up?”. I’m sitting with a tree box, piles of tree limbs and a tree. No asshole, I’m doing my taxes! After the eighth variation, I felt like saying “No, not my job. This is a guerilla action. I just grabbed the tree and I’m putting it up. I don’t care who’s “job” it is. I’m doing it!”.
Eventually, after much cursing and limb throwing, I got the tree up. It looks very tree like, more or less. It looks like it looks every year. I stand and admire my creation.
Elf #2 -“Was it taller last year?”
Me -I don’t think so. I think it was this same height.
Elf #2 - “Did we have a different tree?”.
Me - No, this tree.
Elf #2 - It needs to be taller.
Me - Kneel. It makes it look taller.
Elf #2 disappears and comes back with phone books. She wants me to go get more phone books. We lift up the now fully assembled tree and slide lifts under it.
Elf #2 goes away because she knows what’s next.
The Lights. The less said about this the better. I went to lunch hopeful that some elves would take pity or some initiative and finish the tree. I come back from lunch. The tree is still naked and dark. I get the lights on the tree. Because I didn’t actually kill anyone while I was trying to assemble it, the lights work. Thank You God.
Now, I start to put the ornaments on the tree. Its pretty obvious what I’m doing. So:
- “Getting the Christmas Spirit?”
-“Getting the Christmas Spirit?”
-“Decorating the tree?”
-“Hey! That’s the spirit!”
-“You putting the tree up?”
-“You need Christmas Carols - La, La, La....”
-“Getting the Christmas Spirit?”
-“You got the job of putting the tree up?”
-“Getting the Christmas Spirit?”
After the ninth time I hear “Getting the Christmas Spirit?” I choke back the urge to reply “No, after watching you walk up and down the hallway all damn morning and not even trying to help me, I had the Christmas Spirit, but I lost it. Now, I hate everybody and its ALL YOUR FAULT!”.
p.s - I am Not taking it down after the holiday.
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