Monthly Archives: October 2012

A creative way to punch a $168 million hole in the ground

Well, my heart beat a bit faster when I saw this headline on an email:

MEDIA ADVISORY – LOCKHEED MARTIN TO DEMONSTRATE F-35 LIGHTNING II CAPABILITIES AT THE CAROLINAS AVIATION MUSEUM; REPORTERS INVITED TO ‘FLY’ THE F-35

… even though I saw the quote marks around “FLY.”

Sure enough, the release says:

Still. I bet that’s a pretty awesome simulator. Way better than my old copy of Microsoft Combat Flight Simulator that I can’t even get to run on Windows 7.

I have to smile, though, at the come-on, given that there will never come a time, in the history of this planet, when anyone would be insane enough to let a reporter — even one who had once been a jet pilot — actually fly an F-35.

If they did, that would be one quick, albeit creative, way of making a $168 million smoking hole in the ground.

I base that on Wikipedia’s estimate of the per-unit cost of the airplane over the life of the program — which it calls “the most expensive defense program ever.” Which is really saying something.

I don’t know about you, but as my Wichita colleague Dennis Boone used to say of such sums, that’s more than I make in a year.

Democrats just won’t join Harpootlian in opposing Courson, or in maligning Sheriff Lott

Somehow I missed this yesterday

Dick Harpootlian has had a terrible time getting Democrats to line up with him behind Robert Rikard, his chosen candidate to run against their favorite Republican, John Courson. Here’s the latest, in which Dick went overboard to the extent that even Rikard came to the sheriff’s defense:

State Democratic Party chairman Dick Harpootlian linked the endorsement to Courson’s July appointment of Lott to the newly created Public Employee Benefit Authority, a two-year term that includes a $12,000-a-year salary.

“Just two months ago he accepted a $24,000 appointment from the Senator he now chooses to endorse,” Harpootlian said in a news release. “Voters in John Courson’s district see the pattern of Courson using taxpayers funds for his own benefit.”

Lott was out of town and unavailable to comment, according to a spokesman.

Democrat Robert Rikard, who is challenging Courson for the District 20 state Senate seat on Nov. 6, defended Lott, saying: “Leon Lott makes his own decisions, not based on what board he’s appointed to,” said Rikard, a former Richland sheriff’s deputy under then-Sheriff Allen Sloan…

The chairman who can't get any respect.

Rikard’s right. Leon (whose birthday is tomorrow) knows his own mind. This is one of the things that bugs me about people who take the “follow the money” logic to extremes: It doesn’t occur to Dick (or he won’t admit that it occurs to him) that maybe Courson appointed Lott because he’s someone with whom he enjoys mutual respect, not the other way around. That sort of small-minded interpretation defies human nature. It supposes that Leon wouldn’t have backed the senator before, which is not reasonable to assume if you know the sheriff. And the assumption is grossly insulting.

Now a Democrat in a whole other race has seen fit to take issue with Dick’s one-man crusade against the president pro tem:

Columbia, SC – Democratic House candidate for district 78 released the following statement in response to SC Democratic Party Chairman Dick Harpootlian’s comments yesterday:

“I have known Sheriff Leon Lott for many years, so I was extremely disappointed when I read Chairman Harpootlian’s comments. Like Sheriff Lott, I have an independent streak…
That is why I am so proud that Sheriff Lott has endorsed my candidacy for House District 78. If elected, I will do what is best for the people of Richland County and not one political party.”

####

These Richland County Democrats just won’t get with the program, will they?

Silence, where’re you at?

Just noticed something.

Silence has been, well, silent lately. Which is weird.

I got to thinking about this when I was looking at a post from back in April, and he was all over the place. Given his usual frequency, this is sort of like Doug or Bud or Kathryn going AWOL. (Bud once did, for awhile, but came back.)

He last posted on August 8, and here it is October.

There was nothing extraordinary about the message. He didn’t say, “See y’all later, I’m going on a super-secret double-naught spy mission that I can’t talk about.” Which, come to think of it, is actually something that Silence might do.

So, to use the vernacular, where’re you at, Silence?

Pride and Prejudice and Skeeters

Monday was our first night with lights. In this scene (still sans costume), the Bennets get to know Mr. Collins better than they'd like to.

Just to remind y’all that one reason I’m not blogging as much as usual these days is because of rehearsals for “Pride and Prejudice,” seven days a week.

Over the weekend, we further prepared our state of mind with Karen Eterovich’s (mostly) one-woman Jane Austen show at Drayton Hall. Just days before those performances, I was asked to play a small supporting role in that. Master Thespian that I am, I quickly mastered my three lines, which were as follows:

  1. “No.”
  2. “Yes.”
  3. “YES!”

Moving on from that triumph… Sunday night, we moved to Saluda Shoals park, where we open Friday night, which I believe is starting to freak everybody out just a bit.

Sunday night, we experienced rain. We moved inside to a very small room, and did a hurried run-through, which directors Linda Khoury and Paula Peterson said were our best performance yet. It was certainly… intimate. In a dance scene, one of the actresses and I ran into each other via our posteriors. It occurred to me that this was unexplored cultural ground: I had just done “the Bump” with Miss Jane Bennet. Lydia I could see, but Jane?

Then last night, there was a challenge of outdoor theater I had never anticipated, as we stood at the edge of woods damp from the rain, waiting to go on: Mosquitoes. As I waved and slapped at them, I took solace from Marty Feldman’s immortal words: “Could be worse. Could be raining…”

Three more nights…

At the edge of the woods, waiting to go on: Mr. Darcy (Gene Aimone) and my daughter, who plays Lady Lucas.

‘I’ve seen the village:’ the most anti-communitarian bumper sticker I’ve ever seen

I couldn't find the sticker, but I found a similar T-shirt...

Sometimes, at a red light, I have time to whip out my phone and get a shot of a bumper sticker or something in front of me that I want to share. Over the weekend, I’m sorry to say, I never got the chance. I wish I could have.

I found myself in traffic behind an SUV with a large variety of bumper stickers on it, positing the kinds of juxtapositions of attitudes that leave me scratching my head. There was a Romney/Ryan sticker, which is pretty generic. Then there were the Confederate flag stickers, combined with a couple of different Christian symbols.

And I found myself wondering for the thousandth time at least why those particular things go together in some people’s minds.

Then there was the below sticker, which starkly displays one of the unpleasant characteristics of modern political argument: the assumption that if your adversary hold attitude A, he also embraces completely unrelated attitude B.

My own answer to the question, apparently posed by this website, would be “no.” First, I couldn’t be any more opposed to abortion on demand than I am already. And second — well, clinical killing makes my blood run cold more than gun violence does. I’ve written in the past that if I were to be executed and were given a choice — two things not likely to happen (I hope), but bear with me — I would opt for firing squad. That would not be nearly as horrifying to me as lethal injection, the most cold-blooded manner of killing humanity has ever devised, because it is so clean and clinical and dispassionate (and also because it perverts procedures that should be about saving lives).

Finally, there was the bumper sticker I really want to write about. Unfortunately, although I was able to find the abortion sticker online, I can’t find this one — although I’ve found some similar ones. (Fortunately, after I wrote this, alert reader Scout found the one at right, which I think is the one I saw. If not, it’s very close.)

It had far too many words jammed into way to small a space (maybe 6-8 inches wide by 4 or 5 deep). And even though, at an intersection, I managed to get within about 10 feet, I only got to see the biggest words. There were as follows: Near the top, it said “I’ve seen the village.” Near the bottom, with a bunch of tiny words in between, it said “Homeschool.”

Since nothing else on the sticker was legible at a pretty close distance, one is left to assume that to its author, and to the person who chose to put this on the back of his or her vehicle, the words I quote were sufficient as a message. (The similar stickers and T-shirts I’ve found simply say, “I homeschool because… I’ve seen the village and I don’t want it raising my children!”)

And of course, in their minimalist way, those few words speak volumes.

Hemingway has been quoted as saying the key to great writing is knowing what to leave out. And that’s where the power lies here. The village is not described. The speaker doesn’t bother to tell us what his objection is to the village. We are left to assume that the objection is something fundamental, something that lies on a lowest-common-denominator sort of plain. Something you could tell at a glance, and know you don’t want to have anything to do with it.

There’s an implication of “‘Nuff said.” You, the reader, are supposed to know exactly what the sticker’s writer means. And of course, if you are “right-minded,” you are expected to respond with some family-friendly version of “Damn’ straight.”

There is an assumption here that certain things are just to be understood, things that fully explain why this African proverb is being so categorically rejected. One is invited to speculate that this parent only had to walk into a public classroom once, and then walked out knowing he didn’t want his children being a part of that.

We all know what that sounds like, don’t we?

But aside from the assumption to which we are invited to leap, the thing that really gets me is the extent to which this utterly and absolutely rejects the very notion of a community, a place where we share our lives and share some responsibility for the environment in which all of our children grow up. In other words, another way to read it is that the parent didn’t even bother checking out the public school, but simply looked around at society — at all of us reading the bumper sticker — and rejected us all.

I’m very, very accustomed to the fact that in this world, in this village, the libertarian messages — those that reinforce I, me, mine -outnumber the communitarian ones a million to one. In fact, “It takes a village to raise a child” is just about the only communitarian message that nearly everyone has heard. (Probably the only one better known would be “We’re all in this together.” Which, as you’ll recall, I was pleased to hear Bill Clinton say in his speech at the Democratic Convention in Charlotte last month. It’s one of those truisms we don’t hear nearly often enough.)

So that puts this sticker in a very special category. Most statements in support of radical individualism tend to ignore that such a thing as a community even exists. This is the only sticker I think I’ve ever seen that specifically says, I’ve seen the community, and I am categorically, absolutely rejecting it.

So it was my very first truly anti-communitarian bumper sticker, to the best of my recollection.

... but this isn't the bumper sticker I wanted to talk to you about.