SpamMeister

In a small room somewhere in Africa, Omar SpamMeister, is instructing his recruits:
Welcome brothers!  We're doing real well.  We've received over $15,000 this week.  Keep up the good work.
First, though, I want to give some tips to our newer recruits.
Muktar, first choose a name from that list over there.  American-sounding, not too ethnic.Choose a title, International Associate has been quite successful.  Make up a company name.  I have a list posted.  Obed has been using "Zippy Pics, Incorporate", so that one's taken.
After you've done that, you have to give your target something.  Praise their work, then ask for the price. Don't ask for their address yet, you have to be more subtle.  The price thing comes after the second email.  The first one just says you want their fantastic artwork for your new apartment in London.  Get some credibility.  Say you're CEO of the Acme Company, or maybe Marketing Director.

Now, Ahmed, how many calls have you made tonight? Four? Your quota is 10 calls, I would like to remind you. You don't get paid if you don't meet your quota.  Also, you need to get more detail in your second email.  Tell them you're going on a business trip to say, France.  You're starting up an international branch. You're going to Africa after that, never mind that you're already in Africa.  Don't mention China, by the way, that isn't our schtick!  We have an agreement with the Chinese to stay out of their territory.
Muktar, I see you've received a reply already. Good job! More praise in the next email, and you'll be sending a check- and it's going to be for $5000 no matter what the artwork is worth, but don't tell them that.
We want to get at least $4000 refunded from them on that one.

Brothers, we're doing really well on this Minnesota Artists list.  Good!  They're really hungry for it!  Remember, a state where they elected Jesse Ventura and Michele Bachmann is really ripe for the taking! Good night and happy emailing!

The Moons of Earth

The Moons of Earth is a fantasy novel for young people of all ages.  It tells the story of a world in which the predicted climate change has happened, and our two heroes, Omer and Hetta, are trying to remake the dystopian world they find themselves in.  They find themselves in the South Dakota Dome, where the elitist people of the area live to avoid the pollution, radiation, and floods.
I drew upon my many years of camping, my reading of many books about societies, primitive and otherwise, and interest in ways to survive in the outdoors.  I am also interested, as you can see from my other posts, in politics and different systems of government, where everyone must adhere to a certain agenda.
This book will be published soon by Mill City Press, based in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and will appear in print as well as e-books.
Enjoy!. 

Deer Trails

Now that it has snowed multiple feet in the last weeks, the view out back has new interesting features.  No longer are there rabbit hop marks or duck waddling marks in the snow, showing where animals have traveled to the neighbor's yard to get food she puts out.  Now there are deer trails coming from the park across the street and heading toward that neighbor's yard. 
Walking the dog has become a challenge!  Although they have plowed the path around the small lake across the street, walking the dog there gets harder and harder as the snow deepens.  When it was only a foot deep, it wasn't so bad.  The resident dog, Lewis, who barkingly challenges all dogs (and animals) he encounters, needs to be pulled aside as one of them approaches.
But now that the hills of snow beside the path are over four feet, I have to be prepared.  I wear my boots, reinforced by metal cleats, a large plastic bag or three to collect excrement, and a smaller dog treat bag, sunglasses, my balaclava...But lately I have considered carrying a bagful of tennis balls to throw at opposing dogs, in the hope that they will chase them.  Or maybe a circular blanket with spring loaded hem to throw over my dog?  Somebody has suggested snowshoes, which, with the touch of a button, would spring ready to don. 
No?  Instead I rely on  my bagful of dog treats, which I whip out at the first hint of dogs approaching.  Then, while Lewis munches those, the alien dog can slip by us, at least, that's the plan.
But friendly dog owners usually try to start up a conversation, and Lewis charges, winds his leash around my legs, while the other owner's pets jauntily clad in tartan coats especially made for chihuahuas, run, frightened, thus wrapping their leashes around that owner's legs.
So, the only alternative is to leap, leaden footed, into the nearest snow bank, and fall in an embarrassing heap into the snow.
After I succeed in getting up, my fingers freezing, I still have to stop from time to time tfo pick up my dog's debris.  Tying the plastic bag is now no longer possible, so I plop the poop into a large supermarket bag.  Good thing I brought lots.Finally, chilled to the bone and festooned with plastic bags, I find I have circumnavigated the pond, with the path to the street close enough to get to before nightfall. 
Bfut now that it's growing dark, I can see something with antlers approaching!  I leap into the snowbank.

A Conversation About Art

"What in the @#$%&* is that?" This was said by a tall man inspecting the art at a local coffee shop.  He was looking at a work in a plexi box, a strip of plastic-looking stuff hanging on the wall over one of the booths.
Another man came up.  "It's a hunk of junk in a plexi case," said the man.  "I wonder what it's made of?"

A woman stopped by, her coffee in one hand and a sandwich in the other.  "Whatever it is, I wonder why the artist created it?  What was her process?"
"Creative process?  There's no creative process for something like that," said man #2.
"What the heck does creative process mean?" asked the first man.  "It's a hunk of junk like you said."
"Well, I wouldn't want it hanging over my couch, said the woman, "but it IS creative."
A little girl at her side looked at the piece.  "It's a ribbon! And it says on that label, it's made of glue. I made one myself when I squeezed my white glue over my hand  and let it dry.  It's a squeezie ribbon, and it's fun!"
With that the two men shrugged and sat down with their coffee.  "I wonder if she cut the plexiglas herself?" the tall man said.

The real meaning of MAD

mad (mad) adj.  mad'der, mad'est  [< OE (ge) maedan, make mad]
The dictionary definition goes on to define mad.  Mentally ill, insane, frantic, foolish and rash, having rabies, in an angry mood.
Why is everybody mad?  I think the last definition is where we are, but I think one of the first four could work, too. Maybe we need to define our mood as the British do, assuming that the mad people are out of their minds. When people are riled up they are upset that things seem out of control, chaotic. 
But maybe, just maybe, what we're experiencing is that most esoteric of esoteric phenomena, the paradigm shift.  Maybe everyone has taken things like prosperity, jobs for everyone, the stock market rise, the way things are (or were) for granted.  Maybe we're readjusting, and it will take a while.
New things need time to get traction.  We haven't paid enough attention to our decaying infrastructure, our environment, things that we don't want to see because they cost money.  Maybe we haven't paid much attention to the have-nots.  Maybe the economy is forcing us to get busy, start up things like wind farms-(Google is already doing it), repair highways, invent new cars that don't use gas, rethink our policy towards people who used to work at the old jobs, and now have no job.
Just cutting back as some conservatives have proposed, what would that do?  It would attempt to keep the status quo in place, and that's why we're stuck.
We shouldn't look to these people as our saviors, they're wolves in sheep's clothing.
A famous quote from Charles Dickens, back in the Victorian times, has Ebeneezer Scrooge saying about poor people not having enough to eat, that it decreases the surplus population.  We're not in the 1880s, thank goodness, but we're at a time when we have to decide what to do.
Suggestions:  Recycle, drive less, eat less, walk more, listen to NPR!

A New Look with KafeeKlatch

Why are so many folks fixated on "Big Government", perceived evils of health care reform, bailouts, the fact that our president has not undone the decades of deregulation, wall street greed, power and influence perpetrated by people who are now spouting off against him and/or created new jobs at the drop of a hat?
What is Big Government anyway?  Is it the safefy nets created since the 1930s to take care of the poor, the disabled, the discriminated against?  Sure, we have to spend something to keep the economy on track after the housing crisis and the wall street guys wrecking thinng,  it doesn't happen by magic.  We are a nation of 307,006, 550 people (I looked it up) and growing.  Who is going to provide for all these people if not Big Government?  Small Government?  Small government inevitably becomes controlled by a small group of insiders who dictate everything.  With Small Government, there is no wing of government to go to get redress for evils, misdirected justice, discrimination, or acess to social programs to help the poor and disabled. 
So, advocates of Small Government, what are you really wanting?  Power.  YOUR small group in charge so you can dictate to the rest of us.
On health care:  What do you really want?  Health care for yourself and your family, not for poor people?  What should we do with poor people who don't have any?  Let them die?  This is the real death panel.
Maybe the real reason is tea partiers don't want to pay for anyone but themselves.  Back to Small Government theory stated.