Teach a boy to fish....

There has been a lot in the press lately about the death of Steve Jobs. I, like many, was saddened by the early demise of a unique, energetic, creative thinker who made an impact on our culture and advanced technology beyond our imaginations. Steve Jobs knew how to fish.
Somone I love asked why are we mourning the death of one man when millions of children have been killed, or dying throughout the world. I believe she is speaking about the genocide, homocide activities in Africa.
Recently our gov't stepped up an effort to help by sending forces to train others in the area. The UN has made little progress in containing the violence and genocide. Often foreign forces sent in by the UN to protect have aided and abetted the offenders.
Every civil man or woman bemoans the enslavement, abuse and death of children and humans everywhere.
Unfortunately the U.S. can not be the keeper of all gates, not the benefactor to all helpless men, women and children, nor the savior for mankind. But it does a damn good job of offering aid and assistance at every turn.
What can be done about the astrocities? Can we save every child from starvation, abuse and death? In all of civilization, we have not found an answer or initiated a sustainable solution. Does that say more about the nature of mankind than it does about those who try to help?
Let's not negate the positive effect Steve Jobs, one individual, has had on our country and throughout the world. While modern technology bears his imprint and he acquired millions of dollars through ingenuity and persistence, he did not sit back or close his eyes on humanity. His endeavors created hundreds, thousands of jobs. Those wage earners went on to invest in the U.S., bought homes, paid for their children's education, contributed to the Red Cross, Relief for Tsunami, Hurricane, Flood and Fire victims, served as military protectors of freedom, volunteered at hospitals, churchs and welfare centers. They and thousands of others have not sat idle.
Steve Jobs alone was credited for contributing millions of dollar to advance science and distibute medicine for Aids relief in foreign countries. Some reports indicate that his efforts alone helped save hundreds of thousands of children.
Steve Jobs nor the U.S. government could not, can not prevent corrupt political leaders, rogue uncivilizied organizations and criminal minded activists from destroying hope or life itself in others.
What one individual can do is provide opportunities for employment and education. Free spirit and will of the individual dictates how one advances his life or that of others. Education, whether through traditional routes or self imposed, extends the possibility of freedom and well being throughout the world.
Steve Jobs' unique personality, skills and ingenuity offered an example for others. He knew how to fish.
Let's hope his contribution to mankind continues to effect many others throughout the world.
Teach a nation to fish and no one will go hungry.

Writers Police Academy

Whether your a romance writer or delve into heavy metal--cops and robbers' stuff---at some point in your career you should consider attending a real work-shop with police officers, fire officials, lawyers, forensic investigators, etc. Why? There's hardly a day go by without hearing, seeing, thinking 'cop stuff'. Newspapers loaded with real, everyday adventures, tv and interent exploding with details real or imagined. This week, Sept 23-26, 2011, Lee Lofland, a real officer of the law, is conducting an arduous conference full of reality, excitement and nerve challenging simulations.
Why do I go? A, B, and C...all of the above.
And...I marvel at all these dedicated people who sacrafice years of their lives, know people who literally sacraficed their life, and just don't get the credit they deserve.
If you want to see true, patriotic, hard working, dedicated people...walk close to their shoes...attend a conference where these community minded people gather. Great Job Lee Lofland for pulling this all together!!

Another Day to Screech...

It's not that I like to complain but I've about had it with the multitude of requests I receive to improve my credit rating, earn a police officer's degree, donate to save the Ilimutirak three-legged mouse, look up old classmates, find an over fifty friend, cleanse my colon, or enhance my sexual life. The most frequent request that sends me to the mountain top is the Enlarge Your Penis invitation. It usually follows the Pay Less for the Blue Pill advertisement. Someone in a foreign country believes I need to improvement my bedtime romps. Holy Cow!!

I would use another expletive but this is open to the public...so I'll just say Holy Cow again and you figure out what I want to say, what I really mean. Imagine a two word ripper and it is not 'Let's Dance.'

Do I want a Penis Enlargement? "H.C." I don't even have a Penis. If I did, I definitely wouldn't buy anything over the internet. I'm one of those naturalists...but if I were a male and turned out to be a 'minimalist'...maybe someone with bad eyes and a large imagination would love me anyhow. On that note, I don't want my breasts enlarged either! And I've not missed any loving in that department, either.

Why does this bombardment continue? Or better yet....why does it even exist? How many senseless, hopeless, worthless people are out there? I mean the rogues who sell the products. Yee gads, normal people with at least an IQ of 70 would know this is all pure junk. Wouldn't they?

Sure I can report it all to Spam, and I do, but it keeps on flowing downstream like the muddy Mississippi. A terrible flood this past week. Overflowing. Flotsam and jetsam up to my thighs.

What I'd like to do is send all this junk back to the originators.

Is there some genius, techy, hacker out there who can figure out a way to volley this crap right back to the senders? Jam their systems. Put them out of business. Come on, let's figure out a way to sabotage these small penised, bad debtors, stuffed colons, undereducated internet abusers. Come on, we can win this battle. Toss around some ideas. Let's get rid of the junk!

Big Names...Bad Books...

Have you noticed the trend: Big name authors are writing stories out of their successful genres. Why? It generates a multitude of sales because of name recognition. I fell for the scheme recently. Bought a book by David Baldacci...who I believe is an excellent writer and has, in the past, created interesting, insightful stories loaded with believable characters who take crime and suspense to the federal level. I bought 'his' latest work...Summer something...it's so bad I don't remember the title. And I don't want to remember the title. This story is totally weak, amateurish: the plot--if you can call it that--floats like a wet donut scraped off a plate at the bottom of the sink. Granted it's tissue intended...as it tries to compete with the Nicholas Sparks hearty achey stories. But it falls so flat and far from a substance story that you begin to believe Baldacci had a ghost writer pecking away at his keyboard. Here's the jest of it: Dying man saying goodbye to his family, wife dies instead, he makes miraculous recovery and moves his family to the beach to recover. Hmmmm...maybe not a bad idea. But beyond the back cover blurb, you get nothing but idle chatter, weak characters and predictable, meaningless dialogue. Here's what I purpose: Big name writers---take the money and run. Don't ruin your reputation on junk writing just to get a book out to market. It reminds me of 'this little piggy went to market' ... the successful one stayed home. Wasn't fried for bacon. Didn't disappoint his audience, didn't cause a negative rebound in his sales. I'd be hard pressed to buy Baldacci again...his next novel would have to get such high reviews and publicity coverage before I'd put my foot in the water. Beach story...blah, blah, blah....bypass "....Summer....something..." and pick up a Harlequin romance. You'll be pleased by your decision.

A funny book to read...

Title: The Herring in the Library
Author: L.C. Tyler
Publisher: Felony & Mayhem Press
ISBN: 978-1-934609-76-7


If you bloody well love British humor, then the third Ethelred and Elsie mystery will be a perfect late summer beach read. L.C. Tyler pulls together the classic components of a courtly mystery in this clever who-done-it: An English estate, murder victim in a locked room, bungling detectives, and rich but rather seedy characters. The scene of the crime is a stately mahogany library with a secret door and you have another Tyler winner.

Tyler has had a fair share of Edgar nominations, but this one makes you laugh out loud. And for readers who are also writers, an agent paired with a not- so-talented writer, gives the amateur sleuths a twist that makes your lips curl with envy. She manages to sell his books between chocolate fixes and he just can’t get on with the next page of his work in progress. Together they stumble and bumble to uncover a chapter full of clues that professional detectives have been eager to ignore.

If I had reason to fault the plot line, I’d question the story within the story…but you’ve got to read the quirky book first to appreciate the critique. The prose is Monty Python priceless. Example of a disinterested fellow: “He was looking at the floor as if he had developed a sudden interest in faded, moth-eaten carpets.” Or the not- so- sad murder: “She and Dave Peart confirm they were together in the kitchen when Shagger popped his clogs.” Popped his clogs?

So why not pop your fanny in a comfy spot on the lawn, open The Herring in the Library, have an umbrella ready in case the London wets return, and read how Shagger Muntham and his un-titled wife end their dismal marriage. Murder isn’t always fun but it sometimes leads to happy endings.

What ends up in trash box?

Offers this week included (but not limited to) a change in penis size, breast size and bank account. Not necessarily related to each other if I clicked on either "opportunity". I could go back to school, get a better credit rating, buy a car, take inches off my waist, clean out my colon, remove at least ten years of wrinkles from my face. Why wouldn't I want to take criminal justice classes on line, find a new mate over 50, find a play mate under 30, secure my computer from viruses, buy enhancement drugs on line, find a lawyer, improve my vocabulary. But I was stuck on the offer to change my penis size. How would they would the size--whether it needed to be larger or smaller? How would they know if I even had a penis? Breasts...well, everyone has breasts. But I don't think they meant male breasts, now did they?
Listen, you computer hounds, you low life hackers, whackers and degenerates. Leave me and a zillion other people alone. Don't send any more garbage to my/our email box. I didn't give you the address and I don't want your junk! You are a plague---a rodent, a rat couldn't carry a worse virus. Find another hobby.
My trash box is bulging with unwanted, unsolicited crap, junk, garbage, nonsense and ...and...and...misinformation.
Listen, you low lifes....I don't have a penis and, no, I don't want to buy one!
Shouldn't there be a law against....... but them some of the trash comes from political parties. Most often from the one that I don't give a rat's ass about. So I guess my angst will have to go in another direction...ah, a perfect place. My blogspot....sorry to dump all of this on you but I sure needed the relief. My poor computer? I'm sure it will blow up one day. So full of trash penis ads, drug fixes, colon cleansers, acne removers, odor reducers that it will explode into one giant waste cloud and ride high in the sky to rain like a moonsoon over the world. I hope most of the by-product falls on the heads of the low lifes who spew this stuff across the internet. I'm hoping...whoops another bing. I've got mail. Oh my god, omg...another offer. No, damn, that part of me doesn't need to be any bigger either...no!

Mystery of the Minds

What in the world was she thinking? A mystery, maybe one that will never be solved. How many of us have had children at an early age, skipped the fun and excitement of being a unencumbered young adult into their late twenties. Eager to explore the world, dance all night....but instead accepted the responsibility of raising our child, children because of youthful, fanciful love? What was she thinking when she left her child on that fateful night? Sex, lots of it with a new boyfriend? Late night frolicking, beer, wine and tatoos? Oops...an accident...now I'm free. What was she thinking?
I have a difficult time believing Casey Anderson didn't know her actions and wrongful intent caused the death of her child. Accident or not. Of course she knew. An accident...scream, cry, demand 911 even if the child appears dead. Did she blatantly murder her child? Plot and plan...connect the dots...follow her actions. They speak more than words.
Only the most callous, disheartened person could stuff a tot's body in a laundry bag and then tape her in garbage bags. Even vicious sex offenders who take young girls and kill them leave the bodies in a fairly convenient location for others to give them a proper farewell.
Mothers kill their babies and walk away without batting an eye. Read a police report next week or the next. Infants in toilets, battery cases resulting in death Strange cases in the books about mothers caught after the second or third child died under mysterious conditions. The Smith case comes to mind where she strapped her young sons in the back seat of her car and let them drown. That mother blatantly lied, too, but didn't throw anyone, her family, under the bus. But this Casey gal had the bus going full throttle...and never lost the defiant, in your face, attitude. She never appeared to be shamed or embarrassed by her 'molester father or brother'. Smug towards her father, all smiles for the brother...for what reason?
I wonder where she'll sleep when the jail door is opened. Will she beg her parents to take her into their shattered lives after they tried everything to get at the truth? Will her brother take her in? Will one or many of her sorry-ass boyfriends sleep with her again...maybe...not much sex in a jail cell. Bella Vita. Or will she rise to notorious fame and live off the profits netted from her dead child? What is she thinking?
It's another sad day for Caley Anderson. Who's mourning her death? Not the mother...she's estactic that she's soon to be free. Not the defense lawyer who said this was all about the death penalty. Oh yes, he spoke rather eloquently, humble after the jury verdict...'she didn't murder her daughter'...but then roled into his cause to shame our system of law that allows the death penalty for heinous criminals. What was he thinking? Caley is dead...gone...and she was rendered a death penalty that no one could ever call humane.
So questions will remain...many unanswered. We are a mystery, we humanes. But for those who know how they feel about the terrible injustice for Caley Anderson, let's remember to not buy into any profit making endeavor this callous mother ventures into. Whether she blatantly, with free will, killed her daughter, we may never know but we will know she didn't do what a reasonable person would do if an accident occured. How can she sleep at night? What was she thinking?