Halloween Eve…

…and it is quiet here–they moved Trick or Treat to before the storm.

Within a mile of here, there are trees down on top of houses, limbs down crushing car roofs, and debris everywhere. In other words, Cuttletown has been almost entirely spared. I am looking at video from places I used to live (NJ) in near-disbelief. Remember, people, in the US, the number for the Red Cross is 1-800-GIVE LIFE. Looks like they will need money more than blood, but whatever. If you have other suggestions, leave them in the comments.

For Halloween, though…

I’m giving out bibles this Halloween night—
The Gideons gave me a stack—
It’s more in the spirit, I think you’ll agree,
Than some sort of a sugary snack.

Cos Halloween night is supposed to be scary
And danger is part of the draw
“Be wicked! Be evil!” is age-old tradition,
Revered like it’s practically law.

Though candies or cookies or apples are things
You’re more likely to get from a stranger,
My green-covered bibles—though rarer by far—
May present a more serious danger!

With all of the junk the young goblins are gobblin’
You might think my claim is insane
But candy, you see, only rots out your teeth;
My bibles will rot out your brain

More evil, after the jump:
[Read more…]

I’d Like To Return This Gift, God…

It seems that perhaps abortion is going to be an issue again, maybe for a whole news cycle. Yet another Republican has spoken what he believes is the honest truth, and this is news because it clashes with the real world. Pregnancy, even due to rape, is a gift from God; as we know from earlier, it can only be a pregnancy if it wasn’t legitimate rape, anyway.

The Republican Party platform opposes abortion, and lists no exceptions (indeed, it applauds legislation that makes abortion more difficult to obtain). Not just the POTUS, but Congress and potential Supreme Court nominees are at stake, and all are relevant for this issue.

Anyway, it’s time to re-post this verse. It becomes relevant all too frequently. Oh… and, while I’ve never had a problem with people not recognizing it is satire, a recent comment came in that made me think that there are a handful of readers who don’t get it.

Jennifer, Jennifer, got herself pregnant,
The poor, irresponsible slut.
See, boys will be boys, so it’s up to the girls
To be moral, and keep their legs shut.
But Jennifer, Jennifer, couldn’t be bothered;
She led her young Billy astray.
They met, after classes, at Jennifer’s house,
And now there’s a kid on the way.

Jennifer, Jennifer, wants an abortion—
She says she’s too young for a baby—
But the law of the land says abortion is murder;
The answer is no, and not maybe.
See, murder is murder; we cannot condone
The destruction of innocent life.
And Billy, of course, is an innocent, too,
And he’s much, much too young for a wife.

So Jennifer, Jennifer, finds herself caught
In the view of a watchful Big Brother,
And Country and Church have a task on their hands—
How to keep the babe safe from its mother.
If murder is murder, for fetus or child,
Then surely assault is assault;
A fetus is damaged by drinking or smoking,
And all of it, Jennifer’s fault.

If Jennifer, Jennifer, falls down the stairs
Then the baby inside could be harmed;
And since that poor child is a ward of the state
It is right we should all be alarmed!
So Jennifer, Jennifer, needs to be safe
For the sake of the babe in her womb;
To keep the poor innocent safe from all harm,
Let’s keep Jennifer locked in her room.

But Jennifer, Jennifer, isn’t the first
Nor the last to be pregnant, you see.
The task that’s before us—protecting our children—
Is crucial, I think you’ll agree.
With the passing to law of my modest proposal,
I honestly think we’ll prevail.
It’s simple: Each woman who finds herself pregnant
Must spend the next nine months in jail.

Jennifer, Jennifer, shielded from harm
In a cell with a toilet and cot
With a closed-circuit camera, an unblinking eye,
For the safety of Jennifer’s tot.
When at last you deliver your new baby boy
We’ll whisk you right out through the door;
We care about kids while they’re inside your womb—
Once they’re out, we don’t care any more.

…

And Jennifer, Jennifer, can’t find her Billy—
Besides, he’s too young for a wife—
She weighs her alternatives, looks down each road…
And reluctantly takes her own life.

And the church says a prayer for the baby unborn
And a heartfelt and tearful farewell.
But Jennifer, Jennifer, so says the church,
Will be heading directly to hell.

Radio Silence

Ok, just received four shiny new batches of tests to grade, so I’m kicking myself off the interwebs for a bit. You’ll have to content yourselves with browsing through the archives for unread gems. I think both of them are in there, somewhere. And leave me wonderful comments for when I come back. Or not. Mostly, this post is here to remind me to get off the blog and back to the tests. So if you see me on twitter, or in the comments here, there, or anywhere, yell at me.

A cuttlefish found itself blue
It had far too much grading to do
You may find this quite weird,
But it just… disappeared…

Ouch.

My point, dear sir, is simply put:
I’m asking you—get off my foot.

You must forgive my clumsiness
I did not mean to cause distress
I so regret I did transgress,
As everybody sees!
It clearly wasn’t what I meant—
I mean, it was not my intent
I trod your toes by accident
I beg your pardon—please!

I do not know the way things went;
It might well be an accident.
My point, dear sir, is simply put:
I’m asking you—get off my foot.

I tell you, I was unaware!
It isn’t that I did not care
I didn’t know your foot was there!
It never crossed my mind!
I took a step; I did not know
That in my path, an inch below
My boot, there sat your tender toe,
Disastrously aligned!

The crucial point, is not, in fairness
The lack, or presence, of awareness
My point, dear sir, is simply put:
I’m asking you—get off my foot.

My friends and I—my awesome bro’s—
Have secret greetings that we chose;
We show our love by stomping toes
It’s good, you see, not bad!
You can’t assume I meant to harm
In truth, it shows a certain charm!
I take offense at your alarm—
It’s wrong that you’re so mad!

Your friends, of course, are not my friends
My toe is where their privilege ends
My point, dear sir, is simply put:
I’m asking you—get off my foot.

I do not care. I have the right
To leave my footprints where I might
I will not bend, nor feel contrite—
You ought to let it go.
I’ll step just where I damn well choose
If there’s a toe—I don’t care whose—
I’ll take my step. Some win, some lose…
Too bad about your toe

Your reasons are not my concern
But clearly you have much to learn
My point, dear sir, is simply put:
I’m telling you—get off my foot.

The moral of the story… If you are hurting someone, the thing to do is to stop hurting them. Not to try to explain why you are continuing to hurt them. Or why you didn’t know you were hurting them. Or why you don’t have to worry about such trivial things as their pain….

Cuttlecap tip to Natalie, for a metaphor even I could understand.

I Think I’m Doing It Wrong

… but at least I no longer worry I’m some sort of felon for de-godding some coins.

Take a look on eBay for “Cross Pennies”. I’ll try some links here, but they may break once the auctions are over.

You can buy a penny with a cross punched out of it… for a dollar. Or fifty of them, for $14.99. Or 100 of them, for $48.00 (different groups, different pricing). One penny and a prayer for $1.69. Or if you want a heartstring-tugging tag, a “2001 Lincoln Penny Cent Christian Cut Cross Memorabilia For 9-11 To Never Forget”.

There is also (not on eBay) a “cross pennies ministries”

You may have seen them lying around or given to you by complete strangers. Either way, these cross pennies have been used all over the world by missionaries and witnessers alike to spread the Word of Christ! The penny is the least of our coins in America and to many people, it is almost worthless. Though some find it hard to believe that something with such a small monetary value can mean so much just by stamping a cross into it, we as Christians find endless worth because through the witnessing that has resulted from it, lives have been added into the kingdom of GOD!

Actually, they have taken something of monetary value and made certain it is monetarily worthless, by punching a cross out of the middle of it. At least these people appear to charge only one cent per cross penny… well, that plus shipping. A flat rate of $5.50 per 1500 pennies. Compared to eBay, this is a deal!

So, while they are charging for nearly worthless coins rendered useless as change, my godless dollars are fully functional and making their way into the pockets of people who, if they find themselves offended by the coins… can spend them just as easily as any other dollars.

Hell, they can even use one to buy a penny with a cross-shaped hole in it… though they may have to chip in a bit more for shipping.

Science Fact > Science Fiction. Again.

After I posted today’s Headline Muse, the following leaped into my consciousness, unbidden:

Though it promised us trips through the stars,
Cryogenics, and yes, flying cars,
Science fiction must bow
To our science facts now…
That’s the word from our robot on Mars.

Science fiction is cool. It is. I remember reading about time travel, and human colonies on distant worlds, and paranormal abilities, and robots, aliens, androids, and the future of human evolution.

And it was really cool.

But I also remember us landing on the moon. And as cool as the possibility of the moon’s being made of green cheese was, a real human footprint beat that all to hell. And then there were the various probes, and the Hubble, and orbiters around distant planets.

And great science fiction is still great. But damn, we have landed a robot, with cameras and a laser and analysis equipment, on Mars. Mars. The quintessential science fiction planet. War of the Worlds. Please. The Martian Chronicles? Even the recent Doctor Who had The waters of Mars–and don’t get me started on Marvin the Martian. (I have no doubt that my readers are well aware that I have barely scratched the surface here, and that dozens more examples of Martian literature exist.)

And every day, the Mars Curiosity Rover is kicking the ass of every single one of these examples. In the same way that falling in love kicks the ass of reading about falling in love. As it always is, and always should be. Writing about Martians is different now… now that Curiosity is tweeting from Mars.

Bacon Shortage Looms; Prices To Double Next Year

I can’t hear through the noise that I’m makin’
As the bones in my knees get to shakin’
It’s the worst news I’ve seen
For Two Thousand Thirteen—
We’ll be facing a shortage of bacon!

We’ll pay more, or we’ll just do without
But the shortage is real, there’s no doubt!
The source of our pain
Is the absence of rain
We’ll be victims of this season’s drought.

With the global pig industry troubled,
Where the market collapsed ‘ere it bubbled,
Better rein in your fork
Cos the prices of pork
They expect, by next year, to be doubled.

Via the Chicago (Hog Butcher for the World) Tribune, news of an unavoidable bacon shortage in the second half of next year. The Financial Times confirms that this is a global crisis; swine herds in Poland are down nearly 10%, and informal surveys of UK farmers suggest nearly double that.

Drought conditions have led to jumps in global prices of corn (maize), wheat, and soybeans, while US politicians ignored any mention of climate change. Maybe–just maybe–the politician’s natural affinity for pork will finally make a difference.

Gee, Good Thing God Tells Us What To Think…

My pastor tells me “God says this!
We dare not disagree!
His word, as seen in scripture, is
Enough for you and me.”

God’s views on marriage, taxes, war—
It’s quite a lengthy list—
We’d have to work it out ourselves
If God did not exist.

My pastor says he learned these things
Through study, prayer, and search;
He’s right, though his conclusions seem
Confined to just his church:

The other churches in our town
Say God says different stuff—
They disagree—are works required?
Or is belief enough?

One church says God wants “man and wife”;
One woman and one man
Another welcomes everyone
(God tells them that they can)

Each says they speak for God, of course,
In fact, they quite insist.
We’d have to work it out ourselves
If God did not exist.

The church downtown says one thing, but
The East Side church says no
The West Side church and South Side church
Say they’re the place to go

There’s this church, and there’s that church
And there’s seven more in town
And they disagree on what God thinks—
His will can’t be nailed down

My pastor tells me “God says this”
My neighbors say he’s wrong
My relatives have different views
But mostly get along

For every view their God supports
A thousand are dismissed…
We’d have to work it our ourselves
If God did not exist.

Context, over at Good As You.