LT Saloon » Columnists

Inspection- Rude

Ken Carman — Sat, 28 Aug 2010 22:20:09 +0000

Have you had trouble in social situations: family, so called “friends:” people being outright rude and nasty when it comes to differences we have? Well, this week’s Inspection may be a personal note… to whom I’d rather not say, other than “a relative.” But I’m guessing you might want to read it anyway. I suspect, no matter what your opinions, you may have been in a similar situation.

My purpose here is neither to embarrass you, Sir, or some form of “comeuppance.” I use this column as a platform for many things; including the quite personal. That’s been true since I wrote the first edition almost 40 years ago.

There’s a term we must start with, it’s called “guest.” Relative, friend or acquaintance, someone who visits is a “guest.” A guest who stays at someone else’s house needs to have some manners, as does the host. And there comes a time when manners are so poor it becomes the Wild West. That happened last Thanksgiving.

It was long in the offing. I suppose I could point to the time in the restaurant where, right after the stroke, your wife kindly offered to cut your steak for you. If I ever have a stroke I would hope Millie, my wife, would do the same. Instead of respecting her, appreciating her, and understanding the family was in a very public situation, you had a very loud, hard to understand, tantrum… a tantrum a four year old would be embarrassed to have. But… that was between you and your wife. Until now I have kept quiet. As per usual family fashion it was ignored, enabling your behavior.

But as I typed, “…that was between you, your family and your wife.”

Or maybe it was when your own son was muttering under his breath about something he didn’t like or didn’t want to do. He shouldn’t have been doing that, as I’m sure he knows. Working with kids I understand discipline. But the way you grabbed him by the ear and yanked him over to the other end of the house, bringing him to his mother? I’ve seen better, less overly dramatic, stage acts at an elementary school… you know the kind where the teacher/director is so upset they make them go back out and do it again in front of the whole school? Obviously an attempt to show your fatherly manhood that fell flat, at least for me.

Once again, “…between you, your family and your wife.”

For many years visits have become a constant commentary from one political perspective: really doesn’t matter which one though I’m sure regular readers can guess. I don’t come visit family to get in heated political debates, and by this time I realized if I ever did challenge you; no matter how politely, it would most likely end in insult and injury. Isn’t it amazing how one can be smart, yet eventually beat one’s head against a wall anyway? Walls are stubborn things, as we all can be from time to time. I usually avoid them. So I ignored the yearly lectures from your not so superior pedestal regarding how everything should, and must, be… and even the most out there comments. It’s your family, your house: I was the guest.

Last Thanksgiving was the grand finale. I’m not sure as of yet if I will ever risk attending another, even though it’s my family too. Every comment made about anything was politically or socially connected and led to a lecture, an all assuming, self congratulatory, comment. Then we hit the Civil War.

“OK, Ken, this happened 150 years ago. Maybe we can have a rational discussion here,” I say to myself.

Wrong.

The point: your point, was that the Civil War had “absolutely nothing to do with slavery until that (insert disparaging remark here) Emancipation Proclamation.” I gently brought up the fact that previous to Lincoln’s signing there may have been debates, discussions and arguments regarding slavery, which you agreed to.

I didn’t bring up the attempt to make sure slavery didn’t expand out west and how much many in the South fought that: elections fought over it…

…or that Jeff Davis himself said if not for slavery there would have been no Civil War…

…or the economic situation that made slavery so crucial to the South…

…or John Brown…

…or the caning of an anti-slavery senator by another, pro-slavery, senator… pre proclamation…

…or the compromise we made regarding slavery in our own Constitution and experts who said we would have to settle the issue sooner or later…

Well I could keep going, but point made.

The odd thing here is if you had compromised ever so slightly and said it had little to do, or not much to do with it, I might have backed off from my extremely mild challenge to one self made King of answering all controversies. But I have had one too many racist southerners where I have lived since 78 make this same claim, punctuating it frequently with “nigger,” not to understand where it usually comes from, and what it often means. They still do it, they have just dropped the less than pc “n”-word.

Then when I told you couldn’t quite claim had “absolutely nothing” to do with it if they argued, debated and discussed slavery previous to the Proclamation, you called me an idiot. Oh, I know, you might claim you were quoting Glen Beck, Rachael Maddow or Bart Simpson, but we both know that’s not how it was meant, even if you claim you were.

To claim otherwise would, simply put, be lying.

Therefore confirming within far less than 5 minutes my previous suspicion that having an actual adult discussion regarding such things under these conditions was impossible. And since there is no reason I have to put up with such outright abusive behavior, I won’t.

I have been told you don’t remember all this. I find that hard to believe, but let’s say that’s true. I don’t find it any more comforting that someone who can be verbally abusive forgets it so quickly and easily: no matter what the reason. And let’s not forget my wife says she was told that you would, according to your wife, absolutely be apologizing. The quandary here is that, although that would have been the adult thing to do, I wouldn’t have believed it for a moment.. I’ve been around you long enough to know you’d be right back at it sooner rather than later. Just like you smile and shake a visitor’s hand on the way in and either avoid them, or lecture them about how everything should be, only minutes later?

I’ve also been told part of this behavior is due to a stroke. But a stroke should never be a mere excuse for, and a reason one must put up with, rudeness and abuse. I’m afraid, in this case, that’s mostly what this is. And a stroke wouldn’t account for you pushing and pushing these things: using every possible excuse to do so.

I can’t promise what we both want, that I never come back: not for weddings, funerals: nothing. For instance, if I find your being abusive to my other relatives that live with you I might have to. That’s not a threat. It’s what any sane person might have to do to protect those he cares for from someone whose idea of showing love apparently includes being abusive.

You do realize that folks smarter than us have been arguing these issues and not resolved them long before we were born, right?

Previous to our last visit I have been mostly silent about all this, but over the months since last Thanksgiving I have described my objections to your behavior, Sir, to friends, very few family members and a few business associates. I didn’t mention your name, just like I decided not to mention it here. I think I need to tell you what one said describing you and your behavior, once again, leaving out who. But I can’t just repeat it because I have been trying to keep this somewhat civil. But I will tell you the last word sometimes keeps company with “flaming,” and the second word starts with an “a.”

That’s the first time I’ve ever heard him say anything like that. If he were to continue in that manner, lecturing all, I might eventually define that as “rude” too, and tell him so. But no where near as rude as aiming one’s poisonous, partisan, name calling vitriol towards guests or family.

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Inspection is a column that has been written by Ken Carman for over 30 years. Inspection is dedicated to looking at odd angles, under all the rocks and into the unseen cracks and crevasses that constitute the issues and philosophical constructs of our day: places few think, or even dare, to venture.

Inspection- Donuts

Ken Carman — Mon, 16 Aug 2010 07:21:41 +0000

No matter what the topic, when we debate, attempt to resolve or start to chortle, should I think, “donuts?”

As a professional musical storyteller and educational service provider I tend to launch into tales rather easily. Yes, I admit: I tell stories. I seem to come by this naturally… and it also seems to be somewhat of a Carman trait. Get a bunch of us around the table and if someone inserted “have you heard about…” we wouldn’t miss a beat.

One of my favorites is the true story of Dad’s donuts. In 88, after my father’s memorial service when we held that thing no one dares call a party I was asked to go get a dozen of Dad’s favorite donuts. There’s a little shop in Eagle Bay, NY that boils up donuts to a delicious deep golden brown where you can practically taste the word “crunch.” We used to buy them as kids on the way to and from Twitchell Lake where we lived.

One of the two sources… “to drool all over yourself… yum,” in the little hamlet known as Eagle Bay… the other being The Chicken Hut that served up buckets of broasted chicken pieces the size of dinosaurs. I exaggerate… just a little. No wonder they’re extinct. If they tasted that good no asteroid kacked them. They were definitely eaten by aliens, since we weren’t around yet.

Well, The Hut was either just an empty parking lot by the time of Dad’s memorial service, or close to, but to this day you can still buy those donuts. So in 1988 I put my new 88 Mazda pickup in gear and drove just a few miles north to the Bay. Pulled into walked up…

“Oh, I remember your father. He used to buy donuts for his dog.”

Dad had diabetes. Donuts and diet should have been antonyms. And knowing my father he probably actually believed the dog ate them not too long after he scarfed them down. Of the few things we fought about usually we fought about me wanting to talk about whatever actually happened and him not wanting to talk about anything else but that. I always thought it was odd, but these days I have begin to wonder if maybe I’m the odd one. The collective memory of folks seems seconds short, at best, and the amount of delusion about as prevalent as bait on a fishing hook, or in trap.

Barack Obama has spent a lot trying to dig us out of our economic mess. Adding to the deficit is by all means a concern and, if possible, we should figure out how to pay for what we spend. But even amongst close family sometimes I seem to be the unheard voice as they rant about this. Not once during Iraq-aganistan, and unpaid for tax cuts mostly for the rich, did I hear these same folks moan and kvetch about this. When Dick Cheney told us over and over that “deficits don’t matter” the silence was… well, silent.

Selective hearing?

Selective kvetching?

Selective hate?

Maybe all of the above with far more than “a pinch” of self delusion?

Did the dog eat their donuts?

“The professional left.” Give me a friggin break. After how many years of the AM band being pretty much an exclusive kingdom: Limbaugh Radio… including more than a few clones… now we’re moaning and kvetching about “the professional… left?” While ieAmerica and Air America struggled to stay afloat, while Rupert Murdoch and the dishonorable Reverend Moon willingly, eagerly, lost billions of dollars making sure people the professional right pretty much owned the national stage, did I hear these same folks who chuckle while also bitching about the professional… right?

No… and hell no.

Probably to busy feeding “donuts to the dog.”

Does the Democrat in the White House who much of the right calls a socialist actually have active advocates for the professional right working for them? Did he forget that bad mouthing your base while ignoring the over abundance of those “professionals” who wouldn’t give you the time of day is a terrible tactic just a couple months before the first election that tells the world what America thinks of you so far?

Do they know nothing of this?

Or did they “feed the donuts to the dog?”

So many things this applies to. When I hear my generation of grandparents and oldsters minus children rant about kids, did they forget their parents doing the same? Or that an actual tablet has been found with the same claims and how they’d be the end of everything?

Why do we collectively scarf down fried delights while screaming, “You ate my donuts!!! Bad dog!!!”

People’s ability to lie to themselves, convince themselves of sometimes insane things, seems bottomless.

Today, as I type this, I drive back through Eagle Bay, on the way home. A couple of weeks ago I stopped on my way out… going back on tour… and bought a donut. I am borderline hypoglycemic and, yes, I do know some medical professionals claim that isn’t possible… another story I promise I will tell. I shouldn’t be buying a donut: just like I shouldn’t tell my mostly left of center readers I used to be a William F. Buckley Conservative, and still respect that dying breed: traditional Conservatives. Just like I shouldn’t tell you many other things. But I do and I did.

Unlike my father, and apparently many others, I admit that I not only bought the donut….

…but also that the dog definitely did not eat it.

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©Copyright 2010
Ken Carman and Cartenual Productions
All Rights Reserved

Inspection- Of Charlie Rangel, Rape and Taliban Justice

Ken Carman — Fri, 13 Aug 2010 09:00:21 +0000

If you believe you are innocent, fight, Charlie, fight. Don’t quit “for the good of the country,” or “the good of the party.” If you feel this is pretty much all unfair, or unjust: fight. To hell with what fellow Democrats or Obama thinks. There’s something far bigger going on here than Charlie Rangel or any party.

Yet the topic for this edition of Inspection is neither Charlie, nor the Taliban, or even a confession driven by the threat of death by rape of a boy at Gitmo.

It is the corruption of basic concepts of American “justice.”

I started writing this edition before news broke that the judge in the court trying Omar Khadr, a prisoner at Gitmo who was captured at 15, has said that his confession to a murder will stand… even though Khadr was threatened with being raped to death unless he did confess: threatened over and over again.

This is “justice?” Not. Indeed, guilty as hell or innocent, it is the opposite of “justice.”

I would claim to be surprised; but I’m not. Our justice system: or lack thereof, has been being stripped of even the most common and decent vestiges of actual justice for a long time. And what we have been doing with, and to, those captured in our supposed “war on terrorism” is simply a precursor to what any “red blooded American” will be faced with in the future.

Luckily, since their blood is green, Vulcans will be safe. Wait. They’re aliens. Let’s gut them and serving them on our dinner tables simply for being aliens. Anyone see an actual Vulcan around here? “Just fiction?” Maybe Leonard Nimoy will volunteer for a somewhat different “roast” than they so often do for Hollywood types?

A few observations…

1. Once we arrest anyone, or try them in Charlie’s case, the concern should be guilt or innocence. Period.

2. Plea bargaining for a lesser sentence is, essentially, subverting the system. People in prison already shouldn’t be given deals to testify against others: by definition they are unreliable and highly motivated to say anything.

3. Trying anyone as an adult when they are a child because society considers what they did heinous is a perversion of justice, at best. If you want harder time change the laws for specific crimes when it comes to juvenile justice.

4. Killing another via drunk driving is not “murder,” unless you can improve intent: intent not just to drive drunk but to kill someone. Once again: beef up your other homicide-related laws if you want harsher penalties for something without intent.

5. Trying someone in civil court after criminal court for anything related to the crime they were found innocent of should be considered double jeopardy because… it is. Period.

6. Trying people in the press or by punditry is the opposite of “justice.” It’s attempting to raise a mob. It’s an attempt to encourage a lynching.

All this, and more, lets the incredibly guilty off easy and forces the innocent into wrongful incarceration. Why do we do it then? Because it greases the wheels and makes lawyers, pols and judges look good.

That’s not justice.

We are referring to very basic concepts of justice here.

But wait, wait, wait… what does any of this have to do with Charlie Rangel?

(Provide your own amusing attempt at mirth here by adding a trademarked Charlie “grate” to your voice. Don’t forget his Mel Brookish accent!)

We are rapidly moving towards a system of governance where once accused you are guilty by accusation, and Charlie has already been convicted if you listen to Dems, talking heads and pundits. President Obama has as much said Charlie should resign to leave his record and pride intact. Wouldn’t resigning do the exact opposite: smear his name forever? Of course no matter what he does that’s been achieved mostly by accusation. Hence the necessity of this edition of Inspection.

I don’t know how guilty he is, or innocent. I’m claiming neither. I do know we all deserve to face off our accusers and have guilt or innocence decided by an honest system, not by the media, or those we work with/serve with before the actual trial is done, as in Charlie’s case.

Do you see the connection? They often don’t even want to go though all the mess and bother of holding a complete trial, or proving guilty honestly. Why do that when “Charlie should just resign for the good of…” fill in the blank. Why do it when all you have do is convince a kid he’ll be raped to death if he doesn’t confess? Why change the law when we can simply say we’ll not follow the law in special cases?

We should not be using law like disposable toilet paper: as if it’s something to wipe society supposedly clean. Why? Because we have to use it in other cases you or I might wish to actually follow the letter of the law for. If you do you simply spread the filth and poison society by mangling a justice system that you yourself may need one day.

If you want kids to suffer the same consequences in some cases then change laws that relate to them.

If you want rape as a method of getting confessions then proudly advocate for that.

If you want any member just to resign whenever accused then don’t even bother having a damn democracy. Let’s have a dictator.

Yes, there are some horrible criminal acts out there. And some very corrupt public figures. Maybe Charlie is one. Maybe Omar is the other. But, even if they are, we get no where any sane person would want to go good by shredding our justice system through special exceptions, or not letting justice take its course.

I understand there are differences here: protocol in our political system, military justice vs. civilian, the abyss we have created so that we can treat anyone as less than human who someone might think might have the slightest connection to terrorism, or knowledge about it. But the differences here really just underline my point. All this, over the years, has been created, in part, because it is a way to circumvent the ideals we claim to live by: have more prosecution or defense lenient courts… or just lynch someone with little to no trial for being inconvenient.

One of the odd things going on in the war against terrorism is that many have been relying on the Taliban to decide their cases the past few years. In a Taliban court there’s no plea bargaining, or chopping off a head instead of a finger because some in society think one person’s crime of the same kind is worse than another. The people go to the Taliban because the results a predictable: you’re either guilty… or not. The punishment is what it is.

Can you imagine the following?

“Wait a minute Achmed, we’re not in the right Taliban court. If we judged him in the new court of Uncivil Justice we can cut off his genitals and then his head!”

Sure. I can imagine that too. But that’s not what the Taliban does. I deplore what they do to those found guilty. It’s barbaric. But process wise? They are more fair and civilized than we are.

So as Charlie resists “off with his head” suggestions, and Omar has been railroaded into having confessed through threats of rape, I begin to wonder. Why is it the brutal Taliban can have better system of justice in this sense than we? And exactly what kind of justice system do we have when being inconvenient can mean no trial, no justice, being tortured, resigning instead of being allowed to have a case completely heard, being punished in a manner a crime usually doesn’t call for legally? And why must we, as wrongly charged individuals, tolerate a moving, quicksand-like, legal system where you never know when you might start sinking into legal Hell because you are an inconvenience. While at the same time serving as an convenient vehicle for grandstanding pols, and lawyers sometimes seeking to be pols?

Trust me. Be charged with something you didn’t do and you’ll see how our system has fallen into that tar baby from Hell: guilt by mere accusation, the desire to exact revenge on someone: anyone, bribes to “make a case go away” or “keep it off your record.” At the same time the legally insane demand to get something: anything, that slightly resembles a guilty plea… no matter whether the person is really guilty or not.

What kind of “justice” system do we have?

Maybe a justice system by mob rule?

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©Copyright 2010
Ken Carman and Cartenual Productions
All Rights Reserved

Inspection- Is It “All a Matter of Perspective?”

Ken Carman — Sat, 07 Aug 2010 18:12:14 +0000

Here in Beaver River Station there has been a revolution. At the Property Owners Association one group has been voted out, one in. I’m the kind of guy who talks with both, friendly with both, and can understand their individual perspectives from their viewpoint, well “understand” as best I can.

I suppose this is because, in part, I’ve never been much of a follower and am a bit contrary. Whether it it be politics, religion, or what to do with the railroad tracks in town, the more resolute and uncompromising the opinion, the more likely I’m going to start leaning the other way. It’s a family trait. The Carman family came here from not so merry old England/Wales in part because some of us were burned at the stake.

And they didn’t even have A1 sauce yet.

How uncivilized.

Like most of us I’ve used the phrase from time to time, “It’s all a matter of perspective.” But when that rule is applied to the extent that civilized family relations, work relations and common sense jump out the window…. like some of those unfortunate folks on 9/11… I begin to wonder, “Is it always just ‘a matter of perspective?’”

Our society has reached a crossroads. We can get along and coexist as best we can, or we can kill each other. In a sense we are heading towards societal suicide if we choose the latter.

I spent the last few weeks talking with those on the “winning” side, and the “losing” side, though those who have gained power may soon question the application of those labels, if they don’t already. “Winning” isn’t always all we suspect it will be; especially when it comes to winning the right to handle pressing issues. Losing can be a relief, if we look at it right.

That’s true in Beaver River Station, nationally and pretty much everywhere when power is lost, or gained.

But what amazed and bothered me at the same time was how both sides told me the tale of what happened. I find it bothersome that they could have such different perspectives on what actually happened that day. It’s like they attended entirely different events where they, the heroes or the victims, wound up saving the day; “It had to be done; handled just right…” or, as another partisan claimed, “It was mob rule: a lynching.”

Sometimes you wonder if people were in the same room… or observed the same event.

Once again, this is not a Beaver River Station problem. It an “everywhere” problem, especially these days. When passion passes by common sense and common decency, when opinion makes one right no matter what, when the end justifies the means, it is no longer just “a matter of perspective.” Perspective itself is the problem.

I’m not a great believer in “truisms.” “Government is always corrupt/inefficient” is as bad as “government is the answer.” “There is no God” is just as obnoxious and absolute as “There has to be God.” As a species we have argued every issue and concept we debate today in one form or another. We’ve had very intelligent; and often quite brilliant, folks on every side of damn near every issue, yet we persist in pursuing the insane illusion that we absolutely know the answers. Believing is a beautiful thing, as long as you understand you could always be wrong; just like wanting a railroad to flourish, or be taken out of, Beaver River Station is your right. But shouldn’t civilized behavior come first?

And if you believe one person, or a few, specifically might be the problem, don’t be surprised when those problems follow you like a rabid skunk when you vote them out of office, or they leave.

This I believe: most people, not all, think what they are doing is the best for their community. They may be horribly wrong; but this alone means some respect and some understanding is due. Not all Republicans, or Democrats, are evil, or atheists, or theists, or…

Despite the bad press, doubt, without being excessive, is a good thing. And to quote a very smart man I had a lot of respect for, and worked for as a young kid: Barry Goldwater, “excess in the pursuit of liberty” can actually be the worst of vices. Damn near every revolutionary believed their excesses were necessary. Excess, no matter how well intended, often leads to tyranny, oppression and even genocide, as Mao and Ho proved, amongst many, many others.

The problem is these days partisanship is so one sided, so “me” focused, everyone other than the believer is thought to be irrational and excessive. Clinically that’s insane.

We all have a right to our individual opinions. We even have right to hate each other for them. And, to a lesser extent, we have the right to berate each other for those opinions… though I do believe our slander and libel laws need to be taken off the shelf and applied far more liberally. “Free speech” should not mean “free to destroy others with lies and assumptions,” especially when it’s for personal, or political, gain. Hence Andrew Breitbart.

So is it all “a matter of perspective?”

No, our relations with each other are more important. Otherwise we might as well go back to the caves… assuming of course they were as inhuman, as uncivilized, as those these days who act as if they lived in caves. They certainly carry over sized clubs and apply them far too liberally, far to often.

I’m not sure even those who lived in caves were this bad, this intent on not working with others; this intent on destroying others by any means because they may not agree: or we would not be here today.

And if we continue down this path… we may not be here tomorrow.

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©Copyright 2010
Ken Carman
all rights reserved

Inspection- Of Liars, Damn Liars and Diane Rehm’s Panel

Ken Carman — Sun, 25 Jul 2010 04:29:06 +0000

I was cruising down route 28 in the Adirondacks today listening to a Sirius NPR stream. The Diane Rehm Show was on. I occasionally enjoy Diane even though her raspy, wavering, voice can be annoying. But it usually is good radio; despite that. Besides, I understand: it’s a medical condition.

She had on a panel discussing the Shirley Sherrod story, which should really be the right wing media manipulation story starring Andrew Breitbart, but I’m straying a bit from my point: let’s get back on track.

There were three panel guests. Here is what her web site says…

Guests

David Welna
congressional correspondent, NPR
Jeanne Cummings
Politico’s assistant managing editor in charge of Enterprise
Doyle McManus
columnist, Los Angeles Times

OK, so far. Well at least as far as I know. Not FOX. Not the Moonie Times. Not even National Review; which would be only slightly more “respectable,” though these days I hate to have even typed “respectable” and NR in the same sentence.

The discussion, as it has been, focused on what the Obama administration did wrong. Not what Breitbart did. Not how the media echo chamber made it worse. No one pointed out that the situation was a “no win” from the get go for the administration. Fire her and what happened might happen. Wait and check it out and the screams of “what’s taking you so long,” “why are you so indecisive,” “perhaps Beck is right: the president is a racist” begin. And the talking heads will blather as if it’s so obvious what they should have done: like the most dangerous and obnoxious of back seat drivers.

All this I expected.

All this I got.

But then a caller asked a question that made me sit up and take notice, damn near killing a squirrel who crossed my path somewhere near Blue Mountain Lake; making me wish it could have been certain talking heads instead: no names mentioned.

I’m kidding about the squirrel. The talking heads? Not so sure.

The caller mentioned that the media acts as if “both sides do this,” and asked them to mention a left wing equivalent to the Breitbart case. Attempting to find similar examples they stumbled a bit and then they brought up Vietnam, of course, and how the media “lied” about poisons being spread across the land by us. Hello? Agent Orange? Of course I was too lazy to look up the specific case they alluded to, especially since they did just “allude” to it. Too vague for even a decent Google.

But the second example was Dan Rather and George W. Bush in 2004, during the campaign.

Now wait a #@!& minute. Dan Rather did a report including a document that was proven to not be the original document, that’s true. But the damn secretary who typed it said it was the right information: just as she typed it, just not the original document. So that’s equal to someone who takes a quote so out of context it’s just the opposite of what was being said? Equal to using that in a way to destroy a career and tell a lie: a damnable lie?

No one challenged that assessment. No one said, “Not quite the same.” No. Like Andrew Breitbart they edited out the truth and turned it into a lie. And the host let them get away with it without a single scratchy, shakey, whisper.

Don’t think I’ll listen to Ms. Rhem much anymore. And I certainly have just lost a whole lot of respect for her and her program.

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Inspection- A “Modest” Change in Bylaws Proposal

Ken Carman — Sun, 18 Jul 2010 14:58:41 +0000

Columnist’s note: If you insist on taking this seriously, please get help. I waited until long after the election to publish it, just to make damn sure you knew I wasn’t serious.

In my beloved small community in the Adirondacks I am a member of a nominating committee for the property owners. We have an upcoming election. I have noticed we are missing something in our bylaws that could be important. I propose that before we nominate anyone we take care of this problem.

I ask that the property owners discuss assassination. Assassination of leaders, members of committees…

Since I will be far… far, may I repeat…very, very, very far away from the initial discussion, and the actual election, I believe I am the best member to propose this. And since every topic has two sides, I propose we do what the media giants like FOX do: have three members discuss this; three members who are the loudest and the most obnoxious. Oh, and then one more who is weak kneed, quick to compromise, essentially a “pansy,” on the other side. In other words: let’s be “fair and balanced” about this. Then we can discuss issues like “adults” do these days.

Now I am very anti-assassination. But I am willing to admit there’s always someone out there who disagrees regarding any given issue, so let’s have a “fair and balanced” discussion.

Maybe we can televise it: look at the great success the networks have had; especially one, putting obnoxious, loudmouths with far right, or left, opinions on shows and finding some soggy-toast punching bag to work with them who wants everyone to “just get along.”

The added bonus is the excitement it will add to our community! Let’s take one local issue. Imagine, for example, pro-railroad and pro-trail folks being part of this debate? Neither side will be bored again during those rainy: no fishing, or boating, days… or snow-less; no snowmobile, winter days. They can have “fun” and “have at it.”

Perhaps we could follow ancient tradition and bring in lions like the Romans did? Or do you think the bears will volunteer to take care of any “losers” post-debate or discussion?

By the way, anyone else in favor of extending hunting season throughout the whole year? I know, “accidents happen.” But, hey, where’s the fun in playing it safe?

Not So Sincerely,

Ken Carman
nominating committee member

P.S.- JFY: When I get back home I’ll be wearing a bullet proof vest. So aim high.

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Inspection- An Unfair Warning from Lucid Dreamland?

Ken Carman — Tue, 13 Jul 2010 18:18:55 +0000

I started paying attention to my dream this morning when I realized I had been here before. I am the Outer Limits of dreamland. I control the horizontal, the vertical and, if I’m not happy with a dream, I simply change it or wake myself up; if I must. Occasionally I have serial dreams: continuing stories that pick up right where they ended; sometimes many years later, with exacting detail.

Location: an estate. There’s a pool, rolling hillside. I could tell after a while it looked familiar, though in life it’s no place I’ve ever been. I walk up to the pool and the wife is laying on one of those flimsy outside recliner chairs that looks like it’s brand new. You can tell they have plenty of money: lots of rich acreage; well maintained. The house is a mansion, though I’ve only gone in once during the first dream: a large, one floor mansion that follows the incline of the land, inside, with a series of stairs to many rooms…. well appointed.

She starts talking to me, “Oh, you’re back. Hope all is going well. Feel free to go inside and get something to drink, or use the pool.” She tells me where the towels are and what room to change in. She seems very sad.

Her husband comes over, a tall, thin man with hair that’s starting to turn almost silver. They’re discussing arrangements for a funeral. It’s for her daughter. About this time details start to flood back in from a dream I had well over a year ago.

“Didn’t I meet your daughter?”

“Yes, you’re her friend. She introduced us last time you were here.”

More details flood back in. She was a casual work acquaintance who had invited me over for a causal gathering of friends. Vibrant. Blond hair. Tall and thin like her father. Slightly large nose. No wonder I barely remember them but remember the estate. We had walked the grounds: her, other acquaintances and I… chatted in the mansion, but the introduction to her parents and been brief: not much more than socially polite.

“What happened?”

“It started simply: not much, we thought it was over with but it came back. She had a blood infection.”

As they started talking again and I started to wander a bit. Then I woke up feeling deeply troubled.

This spring; just before the Nashville flood hit, I was driving away after a show and my arm started to hurt like hell. I had had a bothersome scab there, from what I don’t know, that coats and shirts kept bumping against. It would start to heal and something would open it up. Hardly ever any bleeding, I actually thought it had gone away. I looked down and my arm from my wrist half way down to my elbow was swollen: a not so pretty red and yellow; about an eighth of an inch high.

Blood poisoning.

While Nashville greeted the Cumberland River in an all too personal way I suffered from about 100 degree; fluctuating, top temp while antibiotics mostly didn’t do their job. Then Doc Gaston, Jr. made me curse as I spent close to 100 dollars on this small tube of cream. I would buy it, and probably still curse at the price, again. The swollen arm turned huge moon crater and slowly started to fill in with healed skin and pus. After a second, less expensive, cream; that ironically has silver in it; or at least in the name, the moon crater started to reluctantly fill in. I still have a small scar.

Well, we now now know where the “silver” hair, and the blood poisoning, might have come from, right?

We have many warnings in life. Afghanistan? 9/11? The Russians tried to explain it to us but, as usual, we wouldn’t listen. So much easier to pretend the answers are simple and cartoon-ish: the world separated into freedom loving capitalists and those damn freedom hating, drug taking, out of control, perverse Commies. Never you mind that they were far stricter on the “bad” drugs… whatever those are at any given time… and sex: the only “perversions” some seem concerned with, than we were.

They told us that these were people we simply wouldn’t want in power: they were very, very dangerous. But instead we fed, trained and weapon-ized them, making the Ruskies force the farce of something that was a lot like what we once called “Vietnamization” on Afghanistan, leading to the inevitable collapse. Years later these “freedom fighters” took thousands of American lives on 9/11, cut off hands and some our own citizens have been literally handed their own heads on camera. These “wars” have taken thousands, if you include Iraq, of our soldiers lives. Replacing the long since dead Soviet Empire soldiers with new a new villain dynamic: them and us… and to many of our former “freedom fighters” we are now the villains in this continuing blood drenched, non-fiction, tale.

To quote, or at least paraphrase, a president who, if nothing else, suffered from some odd, fumble mouth, form of microphone dyslexia: “Is we learning yet?”

Most warnings are fair and often prove how hard headed we are. Not that our leaders pay attention even then. They just pass the ball around until a final fumble allows them to blame… the other party: even if the fumbler was a member in good standing of their own.

But what about the unfair warnings? We think we’ve fixed some problem or situation… or it is of little concern… but God, or the holier than us gremlins who follow us around on a daily basis, force us to see we are not in control. While one can blame a lot of pols from either side for lack of preparedness or response… Katrina itself just “happened.” Act of God, act of Satan, or act of Gizmo’s children: we were not, and really never are, in control. Blame BP or Obama, who as we all know personally rode down in diving bell and sabotaged that Gulf of Mex well, plugging it now is a two Stooge act of, “What the hell do we do now that that ‘solution’ didn’t work, nuke, nuke… nuke?” All we need is… Curly? Shemp? Larry? Barack is clearly Moe: thinking he has “a handle on it…” …informing us they are telling BP what to do. Oooo… that makes me feel so much better. Which Stooge do I prefer? BP is one of the other three: I haven’t figured which one yet. Meanwhile BP is hiding that identity with dispersant: sinking much of the evidence down to the bottom so fewer reporters can take damning pics. The sad news: Squidward and Bob, unfortunately, are dead, and I’d have second thoughts about eating unnaturally “blackened” seafood.

What do we do when life, mother nature, God, whom or whatever, pokes us in the eye? …and while we long to laugh at the irony, the pratfall, we also realize it’s really not funny?

The scar looks small and slightly pinkish like it did yesterday, yet I begin to wonder. My dream… an unfair warning? And what about those two black dots that seem to randomly appear in my vision: only my right eye? At first I thought it was my new glasses but now they tango in erratic fashion sans half rims. Or my aging, erratic, digestive system. Or… Or… Oh, now how about my mental health? Do I need to see yet another professional about my hypochondria? What will that do to my wallet? My reputation? My… Help! Don’t get help? Which way do I go, Ken?

It’s not as much the warnings, I suppose, but the toughness in interpreting them. And on a… grander? …scale leaders, pundits, and corporate clowns, mostly just take advantage of all this to second guess each other. Second guess each other while swinging legislative ladders that frequently hit a lot of us. Maybe they do nothing, essentially dropping the ball, or let it roll back down a steep set of metaphorical stairs, taking out many innocents. Meanwhile pristine beaches are artificially blackened, as well as formerly scrumptious sea food ruined… wiping out thousands of jobs, and perhaps lives, in the process. And the taste? Might as well take the chance: eat it raw. Put it in the nuke, or a pan, and you might have to call the fire department, or an ambulance.

Oh, great, now another damn bill!

Sometimes laughing may be the only sane, mentally stabilizing, option, but a damn near impossible one.

I woke up this morning after that dream with a numb arm.

I think I slept on it.

Did I?

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Inspection- The Don Rickles-ization of America

Ken Carman — Wed, 07 Jul 2010 14:40:09 +0000

“I was just joking. Can’t you take a joke?”

Over the years I have heard this lame excuse spewing from the mouths of right wing pundits and, admittedly, a few… very few… left ones too. Essentially it means the speaker just got caught with their pants down and they’re daring the rightfully offended to call them what they are: liars and intentional provocateurs of hate. But I don’t blame Rush Limbaugh or Stephanie Miller…

I blame Don Rickles.

Yes, I’m showing my age. For those not in the know, Don was and still is a comedian. Mostly popular during the 60s. His one toot tune was to get on stage and insult everyone. Yes, it made the audience laugh, and because of his success he and the audiences of the 60s, I believe, opened the door to the name calling of this decade.

Once you watched Don for a while you realized it was an act, but that’s not my point. Even my parents; dedicated Conservatives that they were, found him offensive. From all reports he is, in private, a “sweet man.” But again… not the point. I have heard Rush Limbaugh is very much the same… in private.

How we make or living, and how it affects society matters: period… no matter what our actual intent.

When did we as a culture begin to accept pure insult as “humor?” One might argue that satire and parody were the start, but latter day spoofs like on The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour may have some mean spirited-ness built into the scripts: but they were “scripts.” They were play acting. It was obvious. There’s a difference between playing the fool who mocks at the king’s feet… and actually splattering his face with fresh baby dung and then hiding behind a banner of “it was just a joke.” And if it were just kings and queens being splattered I might have less of a problem. No it’s everyone who dares to disagree or think differently. Anyone who questions the official story on 9/11 is a “conspiracy nut.” Any suggestion of punishing corporate excess, or saving corporations from extinction means you’re an evil socialist, Boris or Natasha, no-good-nicks.

Let me be clear here. I suffer from no illusion that Don intended any of this to come out of his act. I’m certain he never wanted to inspire the kind of vitriol that spews from talk radio today. And, despite my revulsion regarding this form of “humor,” I secretly long to see a grudge match: Don Rickles vs. Ann Coulter. My money would be on Coulter because Don, at heart, was a humorist. Ann is not. Ann is a hateful coward hiding behind the banner of humor willing to say anything. If someone went out and blew Barack Obama’s brains out, if Don felt any of his words inspired such, he would publicly admit his horror at what had happened. Ann Coulter would find some way to blame it on the Left while making a “joke” of it at the same time.

Some people do not deserve the term “human,” or even “less than human.” In my opinion Ann Coulter is one of the few who does not qualify to be considered human on a mental, and moral, level.

The difference here is a kind, gentle, man who simply became famous for a form of humor he should never have become famous for… and horrid, despicable people who should never be let near a microphone or allowed to be on camera. People who hold so much hate in their heart humanity would be better without them.

No. That’s not a “joke.” It’s truth.

And while I don’t blame all of this on Don, I think he may have unintentionally fathered more than a few bastard and bitch children who would have been better off aborted before their time.

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Inspection is a column that has been written by Ken Carman for over 30 years. Inspection is dedicated to looking at odd angles, under all the rocks and into the unseen cracks and crevasses that constitute the issues and philosophical constructs of our day: places few think, or even dare, to venture.

Inspection- Taking Out the Trash

Ken Carman — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 12:06:00 +0000

I have written this column before. I will write it again. Some observations must be repeated. Of course refining the vision, making the point more obvious, is part of the process.

I believe we need to take out the trash.

I am also inviting Conservatives, and those more right of center, to visit and comment… not that they weren’t welcome before. I extend the invitation only because these days we each seem to live in our own; all too individual, information Valhallas, and rarely leave to visit the intellectual universe that sometimes lives right across the road, or in our own families. The few times we do is like a family of morons at a zoo: point, laugh, mock and move on. The animals being observed are often more intelligent.

Social services and welfare is the topic.

Let’s build a common foundation here. I’m sure the right and the left disagree as to how many abuse occurs when such services are used. I semi-equally assume we disagree who qualifies and who shouldn’t for such help. But let’s get beyond this and arrive at the core of the debate.

Should there be any social services at all?

Now I think we can all agree that there are those who abuse such services and benefits: whatever you want to call them. “How many” and “who” is really another debate. There are those, and how many is also another debate, who will never work… though they can and should. There will always be those who will find any loop hole they can, who will abuse any system. As Jesus said, the poor will always be with us, though I hardly recall him ever saying to anyone who came to him for help, “Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps,” or “sandal straps…” considering the dress of the time. Yes: disregarding for now how interdependent we actually are, there will always be those who simply wish to do squat while living off of us.

What to do.

Do you want those folks on our streets? Living and dying in our gutters? Committing crimes against you? Spreading diseases? Think of it like sewage or trash. If society had no services for plumbing we’d still be dumping waste in our gutters and out windows on top of those who pass by. That’s one of the reasons society developed one rule for “proper” social behavior: “gentlemen” walk beside women… and used to wear hats: only they used to walk on the inside in the distant past. That way when bedpans were dumped out windows a gentleman could take the unintended insult. While it may seem funny, these overall unsanitary conditions also caused many, many deaths and a lot of disease.

Heard of the Black Plague? Why were there so many rats carrying disease? Well, in large part because we knew little about sanitation. We didn’t “take out the trash.”

I suppose one solution to the type of “trash” my metaphor refers to is to lock them away for the crime of being poor and/or being homeless: intentional or not. But of course you’d have to be willing to pay taxes far beyond what you pay now to have that kind of “social service,” which is exactly what it would be. You do know that’s not probably going to happen if those who are against paying for any social services, or any more taxes, have anything to say about it, right?

We need to take out the trash; do something with the sewage.

Churches can’t solve it all and, if you believe in intellectual freedom, then insisting anyone converts to get help is only “fair” if you would also agree with them converting to radical Islam, the Chapel of Channeling Jim Jones, or The Church of Satan. Choose the one you wish to convert the least, or would convert the least amount of people, if you wish to understand my point. Would you be OK with al-Qaeda offering social services to families of those willing to do… whatever? I suspect most would answer “no,” if they understand where I’m going. But… consider the opposite… do we really want the State involved in some theological war regarding who might be the most theologically, and politically, correct denominations to offer said services? Putting the official State stamp of approval on some, and not on others?

Think twice before you answer. Times change. Unless you want whatever faith, or lack thereof, you “follow” to be banned, considered inappropriate by the State, or if things really go south: hunted down and exterminated person by person… then reconsider approving or allowing any of this.

Of course getting all faiths involved in such an effort, even if possible: still not enough. Even if it were, to be enough, you would be spending the money anyway.

So here’s my suggested compromise: anyone who doesn’t want to work, or can’t, gets a place to live and enough food to survive and perhaps multiple passes for a bus… if they get enough gumption to make their lives better by finding, then getting to, friggin work! This ain’t no no roach motel situation. No TV provided. Heat and lights only. Maybe a phone so they can reach out, locally, for work. That’s negotiable. And most of all: little to no money: all of this done in goods and services.

Or… we can do nothing and get filth in the street, public urination, or the necessity of heavy taxation to pay for the return of prisons for the poor… where “rehabilitation” would be a no no too.

But if you don’t want that then something must be done and, either way, you’re going to pay for it in dollars… or in heath and being offended by the truly offensive.

Or we can agree to do something.

How much and for who we can discuss later.

Make sense?

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Inspection- Precious Commodities

Ken Carman — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 20:15:22 +0000

Here at Beaver River Station we’re off the grid, and not just power-wise.

How precious our water supplies are, in these days when my precious Pensacola Beach is threatened by oil vomiting out of the bottom of the Gulf. Since my water pump had a stripped drain bolt, and my new brass bolt I bought last year in Old Forge proved to me the threads are stripped inside the pump, I’m working on solutions while hand pumping water; collecting it from rain water, and out of Stillwater Reservoir.

I doubt most of us realized just how much water we use. Between propane bucket baths, toilet flushing, coffee, tea and cooking, I’m guessing I use an easy 20 gallons a day. That’s a very conservative estimate. Take “just turn your tap turn on” water away from John Q.Citizen and, I’m guessing, he might die of dehydration before he solves his problem. They didn’t grow up chopping holes in the ice, bringing buckets back from a spring that also served as your fridge, melting snow or collecting rain water.

Precious commodity… water.

Of course we use generators, propane tanks, and I’ve yet to do but a bare minimum of solar or wind. Not sure either would work all that well: too many still days. There are too many trees I’m unwilling to chop unless I get desperate. I turn the power on about an hour or two a day to save gas. And I have bought the most efficient generators I know of.

As many know my main residence is Nashville, and recently we were unable to leave home: no power, no phone, road turned into a lake. I did have one of the Honda generators at my disposal, so we were able to watch a little TV… but that home was never set up to run pure gen like our place at Beaver River Station. Think I’ll work on that when I get home in the fall.

John Q. flips a switch. If he doesn’t get what he wants he calls the power company which is probably overwhelmed by the time he calls. We had thousands who had no idea what to do. Some died because they didn’t know basic survival skills and, to be honest, I might have too. To get back to my wife when the Cumberland quickly went from flooding my road six inches deep to more than four, I screwed up my innate bravery… which actually should be spelled more like “stupidity…” and forded the rushing water. The only difference between me and John Q. is I have had experience, and was taught about, fording rushing rivers when you find it’s the only way to get home. In fact I survived doing the same, only when it was minus 20 and I sunk down to my chest. You don’t survive long unless you get inside under those conditions, and unless you have some fondness for being found like the Tinman you take those clothes off as fast as you can.

Survival skills are about as extinct these days as an Stegosaurus. And I’m no Paul Bunyan or survival geek. Put me in a field of mushrooms and I’d probably die. They all look the same to me: the poisonous and the edible. Pictures don’t seem to help.

Precious commodities: power, heat, food…

Then I heard the news that Al and Tipper are through. 40 years? Millie and I have been going 33 years, not counting dating. If the Mayans are wrong about the end of the world in 2012, in 2014; if you include dating, we will have been together for 40 years. Of course the Mayans were so all knowing they neglected to predict their own demise; so I suspect we will be around.

What, after 40 years, Al and Tipper, you both couldn’t work this out somehow?

I look around me and I see John Q. living in a society with disposable people. Disagree with someone? They’re scum or worse. Have an argument? Well, that person must not be a good match. While there are websites and companies set up to help you find your “perfect match” I see no evidence that those “perfect matches” survive any longer than us “less than perfect” matches. In fact if we had been looking for a “perfect match” we probably would never have dated.

It’s our differences which make our relationship stronger. It’s our similarities that befuddle us and sometimes leave us angry. A couple is like the perfect means to explore parts of life one might avoid like the plague.

They say with Al and Tipper it’s because he’s on the road so much. I spent well over 15 years on the road, touring, for as much as 10 months out of the year. At first it was tough. Millie told me it was an adventure to visit the areas I toured through. It brought us closer. Now that I perform more at home more than I tour, once again we have a lot of work to do. Now that’s a new stress: but we’ll get there; we always do.

But, I admit, I’m violating my own sense of valuing a “precious commodity.” In a time when everything is a soap opera; the public thinks it has a right to not only know about, but second guess, the lives of other; famous, political and just ordinary Joe and Marys, I honestly feel it’s none of our damn business, and I include Al and Tipper.

Who the hell do we think we are? What makes us so damn perfect? Who appointed us judge, jury and executioners?

Precious commodities: our relationships with each other and privacy; the right to work it all out without nosy busy bodies second guessing motives.

My parents were in their teens during the Depression. They ranted about baby boomers and how they never would survive without some of what we consider to be basic needs, but not too long ago humanity lived without, and lived quite well, thank you. They felt the same about our “spoiled” children and great grandchildren. They felt we wore our hearts too far out on our sleeves and had trouble handling desperate situations in an adult fashion.

Looking back? I think they were more right now than I did back then. If we don’t both start treasuring our precious commodities and learning how to survive without them… maybe the Mayans might be proven right.

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