I Do Declare!

IN CONGRESS, JULY 4, 1776

The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America

When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security. — Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States.

For the entire text, go to: http://www.ushistory.org/declaration/document/index.htm

Video Thursday

Mark made some chocolate chip cookies from Nestle' cookie dough. The next day, after I had eaten all of them, Mark was making a video of Chandler when this news item came on the television.

Bang!!

Once again Independence Day has rolled around, and in this neck of the woods that means crazy people with explosive devices. When I was a kid, one of my friends had only one hand because he thought it would be fun to hold on to some large industrial strength fireworks, and light them with his other hand. I always thought he was kind of stupid for doing it, but I never actually told him so. Here in the South, having one extremity missing isn't considered a sign that you've done something stupid, just that you are now a likely candidate for a job at the carnival.

This is the second Fourth of July since Molly, my dog, died. She used to be terrified at all the explosions, and could hear a ladyfinger pop a mile away. She would spend almost an entire week hiding by my bed, quivering in fear. Not so, Mr. Chandler. He is not phased by anything, not fireworks, thunder, or large trucks. I can take him out and all hell can be breaking loose, all he cares about is taking a pee, and smelling somebody else's. There is one thing that he has yet to figure out, the box fan that I use in my bedroom scares him. For some reason he thinks it is going to get him, and he steers clear of it. It's the one tool I can use to keep him in line. Preventing him from coming into a room is easy, I just have to put the fan in the door. To get him to move out of a room, all I have to do is bring the fan around. It works really well. lately I've been experimenting with various things on Mark to achieve the same effect. So far the only thing that I do to keep him out of a room, is to sit and pay the bills. It's like magic.

Oh, Crap!

Step one for picking up the crap your dog has left in your neighbor's yard, is to take the poopy bag and put it on your hand like a mitten. Step two, is to reach down and pick up each turd until you have cleaned it all up, or to at least fake it if it is dark enough. Step three is to pull the bag off your hand inside out, and tie it up in a pretty package. The final step is to find a neighbors garbage can that is close enough to the street so that you can run up and drop the bag of crap into it. The alternate to step four, is to fling the package into a handy group of bushes if no one is looking.

Yesterday, while I was in the middle of step two, the picking up of the poop, Chandler spotted his friend Kevin the Great Dane. In his joy at seeing an old buddy, Chandler bolted while I was bent over with a handful of poo. I can handle Chandler if I know another dog is nearby, but this time he nearly knocked me over, and before I knew it I was being dragged down the street with my arm flailing around, flinging dog poop everywhere. The more I attempted to bring the situation under control, the more Chandler pulled on the leash, causing more and more crap to fly. By the time we caught up with Kevin and his owner, the poop bag was hanging off my hand, and what hadn't hit the street was stuck to my arm. It was a disgusting mess, and from now on Chandler will be encouraged to poop in the church yard. Nobody ever cleans up after their dog over there.

Celebrating a Week of Death

This is a reprint of an earlier post. Billy Mays died on Sunday. I hate to see someone die prematurely, but I sure am glad if it will end the screaming commercials. I am sitting in my big recliner, with a baseball game on the television and I am dozing off. The only thing that would make me fall asleep faster is if Jack Brickhouse were still alive and doing the play by play. With the steady drone of the banal voices that pass for announcers these days, lulling me off to dreamland, I am suddenly jolted back into consciousness by one of the most hideous sounds known to modern America. No, not a speech by Ann Coulter, it's that ubiquitous shill, Billy Mays. You know the guy, he screams out of the television set at you, demanding that you buy whatever crap he's selling today. This time it's 'Kaboom', some kind of cleaning fluid that apparently will clean anything. Hopefully it will clean up the stain I left in my pants after he scared it out of me. My first response to a Billy Mays commercial is to hit the mute button, but this time both the remote and the cat that had been snoozing on my lap, went flying across the room when I was startled by "HI!! I'M BILLY MAYS.", bellowing out of the TV. By the time I found the remote the offending commercial was gone.

I don't know what marketing geniuses have determined that screaming at prospective customers is an effective device for selling products, but it must work. Why else would every other commercial on cable television feature Billy Mays screaming at me to buy Oxy-Clean or some kind of crazy folding ladder. What ever happened to the days of catchy little jingles and animated scrubbing bubbles.

When I was a kid, I particularly liked the Alka Seltzer commercial with Speedy. He was cute, and his song was catchy. The commercial that I think was the most effective back in the 1950's was the Hamm's Beer commercial with dancing bears out in the forest. It literally made me want to go get an ice cold beer, and I was only six years old. When I was finally old enough to actually drink beer, I discovered that Hamm's sucked, but at least that commercial got me to try Hamm's Beer once. That's better than Billy Mays, I won't ever buy anything he advertises. He gives me a headache.

Photo Friday

A few more photos from this years Gay Parade

here in Wilton Manors, Florida.

Video Thursday