Events moved fast over the last couple months in Iraq and the Middle East. The Israelis are a war again in Gaza; an American journalist is beheaded in Syria, a capstone to their two-year civil war; the same be-headers of the aforementioned journalist have taken over a third of Iraq to compliment their already occupation of a third of Syria; President Obama sends a contingent of troops to Iraq; President Obama orders the fighter jets to rain hell on the bad guys; as, said bad guys kill everybody and anybody.
I was asked to be on the radio the other day; now twice. I was in Iraq in 2006 and again in 2008 as an independent journalist. I never felt safe. A guy like me could be sent right up the kidnap network, sold to one bad-guy group after another. Anyway, 1380 AM out of Monroe and Janesville, Wisconsin, asked me to pontificate on my experience over there. I was interviewed on Thursday the 14 of August and again on Monday the 18th. No one wanted to here my Iraq shtick for six years, until just recently as Iraq goes up in flames. Media is fickle; a subject for another post on another day.
So..., we are back in Iraq for round three. President Obama inherited Iraq and finally got all the American troops out of there at the end of 2011. It was a short-lived hiatus. The Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS) rose out of the ashes of the Syrian Civil War, fragments of Al Qaeda, and marginalized Sunnis from Saddam Hussein's era. They are as bad a rabble of guys as Pol Pot was in the Cambodia Killing Fields in the '70s and '80s in the aftermath of our Vietnam War.
For all ostensive purposes we have been in or near Iraq since 1990 and the first Gulf War. We have never left Kuwait and Turkey. Before that our navy guarded ships in the Persian Gulf during the Iraq-Iraq war of the 1980s. After the first Gulf War we guarded the Kurdish region of Iraq from their own leader Saddam Hussein by allowing no flights over the region. So..., like the American Vietnam War era, we have been in Iraq or its vicinity for 25 years. Trillions and trillions of dollars, thousands of American deaths.
Poetically, I was operating in the same area of Iraq that has caught so much news in the last few weeks. I visited the Yazidi people and their temple in Lalish, Iraq. The temple is in the mountains near Mosul, the second largest city in Iraq, and under ISIS control. The Yazidi are an ancient peoples that are pre-Christian and Islam. And like they did with the Christians in Mosul, the ISIS bunch went after the Yazidi with a vengeance tagging them, "heathens." The Yazidi are a peaceful ethnic group within the Kurdish people, a persecuted ethic group in their own right. I always new I was safe in Iraq when I saw the conical roofs which are a signature of Yazidi architecture.
It looks like we intervened at the very last minute to stop some of the destruction going on in northern Iraq. The autonomous Kurdish region of Iraq has its own army, the tough Pesmerga. They kept me safe in Iraq. They are basically a uniformed army in pickup trucks. They have had to fight ISIS forces who stole our old military equipment from the failed Iraqi Army they overran with ease.
The Kurds, along with Israel, are our only friends in the Middle East. The former being Sunni Muslim and the later being Jewish. Unlikely bedfellows arrive in war. We are also now in the uncomfortable position of having to ally with Iran and Syria, two countries we have been at quasi war with for decades, to fight ISIS. This ISIS bunch is so violent they sour Al Qaeda, Syria, and Iran and ISIS has no compunction about destroying any one of them.
We are going to need a lot of luck. Nowadays we fund our country with taxes from a population of beleaguered workers whose incomes and futures are far bleaker then the generation prior. As my neighbors in Janesville, Wisconsin, move out of their houses due to unemployment and the misery that comes with it,
America is mired in a non-benefit, part-time job economy inspired in some part by spending trillions of dollars on two perennial wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Coupled with jobs hemorrhaging to China and and corporate offices fleeing to the third world for two decades, draining tax coffers...,, is American "even" capable of funding the fighting of a third war in Iraq?
Showing posts with label politico-dadio. Show all posts
Showing posts with label politico-dadio. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Thursday, July 10, 2014
Janesville, Wisconsin's, Fourth Estate of it's economic misery
Janesville, Wisconsin's, Fourth Estate of it's economic misery.
The odious governmental supplemental. What right wingers call, "entitlements."
Last week I pontificated about the undercurrent of worker frustration in Janesville, Wisconsin, in a rant entitled, Janesville, Wisconsin, "new norm" underemployed prison city with invisible fence of steel.
In said literary masterpiece, I mentioned the "new norm" (if the last 25 years is considered new) top industries in Janesville. The number one industry if you will, is health care (sick people). Number two industry? Public schools (Taxes). Also, number two facilitates Janesville's biggest export..., its children after graduation, to other cities, states, and countries to find jobs. And the third industry? Well of course it is taverns and fast food (drunks and fat people).
I was remiss in not mentioning our fourth estate of economic misery in Janesville not to mention and let alone, much of rural America - The odious governmental supplemental. What right wing's call, "entitlements."
But, in another piece just yesterday where I excoriated businessman and writer John Torinus for his perennial apologies for our lousy Wisconsin economy, where I add the fourth estate of economic misery in my chiding of Torinus.
In short, just off the top of my head, governmental supplementals could include the following: Child Support, Aid for Families with Dependent Children (W-2), Food Stamps, Unemployment, Disability, Veterans Benefits, Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid.
The above list is a short list of money given to people with various needs. I am sure the list is incomplete.
If it were not Social Security and Medicare, my mom would have lost here house in her old age. Be that as it may, it is an example of how these governmental funds are a large part of the economy. And, as various factions try to chop away at all of the above, with each falling chip less money flows into the economy. Our paper thin leaders tend not to like to talk about that aspect of governmental help to people in need.
The prevailing wisdom and conventional wisdom of pontificators who spew verbal vomit about what ska-flaws people are that receive this help, is disturbing. Working in the underclass myself, I am surrounded by people who receive help. They ain't liv'n the high life oh great pontificatiors
It intrigues me that a Neo-Ayn-Randian-Libertarian like Wisconsin Congressman Paul Ryan will receive much of his votes from the electorates that receive funds from the above categories of governmental aid. Ryan of course, has spent years honing the dismantling of the above government help. He has made rocket science out of his task of grinding people in need into the dirt.
Just a sidebar; Ryan's First Congressional District in Southern Wisconsin, has perennially had some of the worst unemployment in United States. The peeps just keep him com'n back. Hell, they almost elected him Vice President of the damn country a couple years ago.
Suckers! Word on the street is Ryan's own mother got governmental help to raise his ass as a kid. You good citizens will no doubt re-elect him this fall yet again.
Kiss your stipends good-bye?
Here in economically beleaguered Janesville, the Fourth Estate of the economy is part of a quad-economy that is here at least, a big deal. And, the fact that it is such a big deal is a commentary on just how bad Janesville's prospects for economic vitality really are.
The odious governmental supplemental. What right wingers call, "entitlements."
Last week I pontificated about the undercurrent of worker frustration in Janesville, Wisconsin, in a rant entitled, Janesville, Wisconsin, "new norm" underemployed prison city with invisible fence of steel.
In said literary masterpiece, I mentioned the "new norm" (if the last 25 years is considered new) top industries in Janesville. The number one industry if you will, is health care (sick people). Number two industry? Public schools (Taxes). Also, number two facilitates Janesville's biggest export..., its children after graduation, to other cities, states, and countries to find jobs. And the third industry? Well of course it is taverns and fast food (drunks and fat people).
I was remiss in not mentioning our fourth estate of economic misery in Janesville not to mention and let alone, much of rural America - The odious governmental supplemental. What right wing's call, "entitlements."
But, in another piece just yesterday where I excoriated businessman and writer John Torinus for his perennial apologies for our lousy Wisconsin economy, where I add the fourth estate of economic misery in my chiding of Torinus.
In short, just off the top of my head, governmental supplementals could include the following: Child Support, Aid for Families with Dependent Children (W-2), Food Stamps, Unemployment, Disability, Veterans Benefits, Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid.
The above list is a short list of money given to people with various needs. I am sure the list is incomplete.
If it were not Social Security and Medicare, my mom would have lost here house in her old age. Be that as it may, it is an example of how these governmental funds are a large part of the economy. And, as various factions try to chop away at all of the above, with each falling chip less money flows into the economy. Our paper thin leaders tend not to like to talk about that aspect of governmental help to people in need.
The prevailing wisdom and conventional wisdom of pontificators who spew verbal vomit about what ska-flaws people are that receive this help, is disturbing. Working in the underclass myself, I am surrounded by people who receive help. They ain't liv'n the high life oh great pontificatiors
It intrigues me that a Neo-Ayn-Randian-Libertarian like Wisconsin Congressman Paul Ryan will receive much of his votes from the electorates that receive funds from the above categories of governmental aid. Ryan of course, has spent years honing the dismantling of the above government help. He has made rocket science out of his task of grinding people in need into the dirt.
Just a sidebar; Ryan's First Congressional District in Southern Wisconsin, has perennially had some of the worst unemployment in United States. The peeps just keep him com'n back. Hell, they almost elected him Vice President of the damn country a couple years ago.
Suckers! Word on the street is Ryan's own mother got governmental help to raise his ass as a kid. You good citizens will no doubt re-elect him this fall yet again.
Kiss your stipends good-bye?
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker orders all fuzzy little cute animals in the State to be killed - Giggles-gate - PoliticoDadio - Week of 14 August 2013
14 August 2013
Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker orders all fuzzy little cute animals in the State to be killed - Giggles-gate - PoliticoDadio - Week of 14 August 2013
This entry was posted on 8/14/2013 1:29 AM and is filed under PoliticoDadio.
I was in my other favorite neighborhood tavern the other day; it is a more than adequate watering hole for the Dadio's needs. I was already deep into happy hour and then some. A disturbing conversation down the bar had drawn a couple pals of mine. The diversion woke me out of my day dream. I had lost count of beers downed, which is usually a sign of some pending debauchery. I blew the foam off my latest glass of Wisconsin brew and moved down a few stools to hear the story.
There was Ol' Robert Lee in the middle of the oratory fracas. That was his first and middle names. We knew that much. Not too many of us knew his last name; we all just knew him as..., Robert Lee. Robert Lee still had a bullet in his hip from his second wife - "That Evil Devil," as he recalled her when the cold weather pain came round again. Be that as it may, Ol' Robert Lee was telling a story one of his co-contractors had relayed. They were both working up ta' Madison regarding some plumbing repairs.
This other co-contractor feller was supposedly a capable fellow, knowledgeable in all things plumbing. Now according to Robert Lee, this other guy took drink now and then at lunch break during the work day. There was a pregnant pause and we all glanced at each other. Some more bar patrons joined the group. Who were we to pass judgment on a hardworking bloke for taking a bit of pain killer at lunch? Not a one of us could deny having done it a time or two. So, one of my pals quickly bought a round of beers for the now burgeoning group, and the story was thus consummated.
"This is what this here co-contractor fellah was saying; he come out of the hills of Arkansas or some damn place," Ol' Robert Lee said. Then he added the caveat, "Don't kill the messenger fellahs; this is just what I heard the fellah say."
Robert Lee had a limp from the bullet in his hip. He had flat feet but the Army draft board was willing to look the other way in '67, needing plenty of men back then and all; but, Robert Lee took the deferment. He told us time and again, "Hell, I should of went to 'Nam. It'd'a been safer than living with that Evil Devil."
Robert's work boots and pants had a couple of plumbing solder stains on board. His work shirt was pressed and tucked in his skinny waste. And, he had a shirt pocket full of pens and a tap measure hooked to his belt. His curly black but now graying hair was a bit longer than the current style; but, it had the vibrancy of a much younger man. He had obviously been to a salon recently. When ever we ask him what he had done that day he always says, "Check'n and level'n."
As Robert Lee launched into the story, we were all amazed at his memory of the details. It flowed as if we were hearing it right from the source, this so-called co-contractor from Arkansas or some damn place:
I was a' called up by the trades union and took a task at the Capital building up yonder in your city of Madison. That city a'be'n the Capital that is, of West Consin. I tain't too sure what happened to East Consin. But, none-the-less..., now my job up dar was to fix a malfunctioning urinal in the executive bath room. I reckon that's were the good Gov'nor relieves his self during his busy day of govinat'n. It was a much bigger facility than I had imagined. And 'course, the task involved more than the work order implied. My tools a'klink'n caused an echo in the room as if I was in a gymnasium.
I had just took to fix'n that damn urinal and a security guard popped his head in the door as says, 'Hey, the Gov needs this restroom for a few minutes, so step out a second or two will yah dare pard'ner."
Well, I left a couple tools in one of the stalls, but no sooner I picked them up in comes a half dozen fellahs. I peek though the crack in the door and low and behold one of them well-dressed fellers was the Governor himself. I hurried up and stood up on the terlet so as to keep myself incognito.
Before I could take a breath the Governor says, "Now I called you men in here because it ain't safe to discuss this anywhere else."
The men took up to leaning on a couple sinks as if settling in for an important chit-chat. No one seemed to care about my tool box by the urinal. Anyway the Governor says, "We threw a monkey wrench in their damn unions, we are keeping wages low all across the state in all sectors, we've engineered a culture of part-time workers without benefits; we've turned down countless grants from the Feds to fund nanny-state projects, and we have tinkered with their heath care options. We have the workers in this State on the run boys."
There was a couple of affirmative grunts from the Gov's men.
"Now, look here fellahs," the Governor continued. "We need to put the nail in the coffin. These people can barely get around with low wages causing them to have less cash for gas money, but we can't stop there. We have got to thrust the fatal blow into their spirit. Don't you hear those damn workers singing in my Rotunda?"
There was a couple more affirmative grunts from the Gov's men.
"Now here's how I see it men," the Governor now lowered his voice. He glanced over his shoulder like his wife might be look'n to catch him take'n a nip, an then he said..., "We kill their pets."
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.
"Don't you see, men?" the Governor said, filling the awkward silence. "We can turn their cry-baby rants about that dumb dead deer in Kenosha into a positive. Look at the death of Giggles the fawn as a preemptive strike on the nonsensical need for the working poor to care for some so-called needy little animals. We can turn this Giggles-gate foolishness to our advantage. Once we kill enough of their little fuzzy animals, their spirit will be finished. There is no room for sentimentality in our new economy. We need these people to be preoccupied with continuous cheap labor, not wasting their time raising pets."
The Governor took a breath like he only had one lung, and then continued.
"I've given a Gubernatorial wink and nod to all state enforcement agencies to search every home and business in Wisconsin one by one to hunt down their fuzzy little critters..., and kill them. We'll find some pretense to enter their domiciles, then once inside, make some rationale to kill their pets. Call them critters a threat to investigating personnel or what ever you want. I've got my lawyers looking into how the Chi-coms beat down the peeps."
I could see the men scratching their chins as the Governor paused.
"You see men," the Governor said enthusiastically. "I take my cue from Richard Nixon. If you can't get rid of your enemies, then attack what they love. Nixon attacked his enemies, the hippies, by declaring war on their marijuana. It was brilliant. The beauty of our version is, we will attack our enemies, them pesky workers, by declaring war on their pets."
They Governor's men all grunted, nodded, slapped each other on the back, and ushered each other out of the restroom as fast as they had came in.
I snuck out of the stall, tightened the pipe on the urinal, picked up my tool box, and got the hell out of there.
At the end of the story Ol' Robert Lee downed the last of his beer in one giant gulp and wiped his mouth on his work shirt sleeve. As he moved from his spot a bit he winced from the pain in his hip from that bullet. "Better have another beer, my mouth is dry as a popcorn fart," Robert said and smiled.
There was another pregnant pause amongst the group of listeners, now crowded around the end of the bar . I quickly summoned the bartender lady and ordered two beers each all around.
As the many beers were plunked on the bar top one by one, there was another awkward silence except for the plunking of the full pint glasses. Finally, one of my wry-witted drinking pals said...,
"Any one ever see that old video short from the late 1960's? This whole Giggles-gate thing kind of reminds me of that little movie. What was it called..., Godzilla verses Bambi? "
Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker orders all fuzzy little cute animals in the State to be killed - Giggles-gate - PoliticoDadio - Week of 14 August 2013
This entry was posted on 8/14/2013 1:29 AM and is filed under PoliticoDadio.
I was in my other favorite neighborhood tavern the other day; it is a more than adequate watering hole for the Dadio's needs. I was already deep into happy hour and then some. A disturbing conversation down the bar had drawn a couple pals of mine. The diversion woke me out of my day dream. I had lost count of beers downed, which is usually a sign of some pending debauchery. I blew the foam off my latest glass of Wisconsin brew and moved down a few stools to hear the story.
There was Ol' Robert Lee in the middle of the oratory fracas. That was his first and middle names. We knew that much. Not too many of us knew his last name; we all just knew him as..., Robert Lee. Robert Lee still had a bullet in his hip from his second wife - "That Evil Devil," as he recalled her when the cold weather pain came round again. Be that as it may, Ol' Robert Lee was telling a story one of his co-contractors had relayed. They were both working up ta' Madison regarding some plumbing repairs.
This other co-contractor feller was supposedly a capable fellow, knowledgeable in all things plumbing. Now according to Robert Lee, this other guy took drink now and then at lunch break during the work day. There was a pregnant pause and we all glanced at each other. Some more bar patrons joined the group. Who were we to pass judgment on a hardworking bloke for taking a bit of pain killer at lunch? Not a one of us could deny having done it a time or two. So, one of my pals quickly bought a round of beers for the now burgeoning group, and the story was thus consummated.
"This is what this here co-contractor fellah was saying; he come out of the hills of Arkansas or some damn place," Ol' Robert Lee said. Then he added the caveat, "Don't kill the messenger fellahs; this is just what I heard the fellah say."
Robert Lee had a limp from the bullet in his hip. He had flat feet but the Army draft board was willing to look the other way in '67, needing plenty of men back then and all; but, Robert Lee took the deferment. He told us time and again, "Hell, I should of went to 'Nam. It'd'a been safer than living with that Evil Devil."
Robert's work boots and pants had a couple of plumbing solder stains on board. His work shirt was pressed and tucked in his skinny waste. And, he had a shirt pocket full of pens and a tap measure hooked to his belt. His curly black but now graying hair was a bit longer than the current style; but, it had the vibrancy of a much younger man. He had obviously been to a salon recently. When ever we ask him what he had done that day he always says, "Check'n and level'n."
As Robert Lee launched into the story, we were all amazed at his memory of the details. It flowed as if we were hearing it right from the source, this so-called co-contractor from Arkansas or some damn place:
I was a' called up by the trades union and took a task at the Capital building up yonder in your city of Madison. That city a'be'n the Capital that is, of West Consin. I tain't too sure what happened to East Consin. But, none-the-less..., now my job up dar was to fix a malfunctioning urinal in the executive bath room. I reckon that's were the good Gov'nor relieves his self during his busy day of govinat'n. It was a much bigger facility than I had imagined. And 'course, the task involved more than the work order implied. My tools a'klink'n caused an echo in the room as if I was in a gymnasium.
I had just took to fix'n that damn urinal and a security guard popped his head in the door as says, 'Hey, the Gov needs this restroom for a few minutes, so step out a second or two will yah dare pard'ner."
Well, I left a couple tools in one of the stalls, but no sooner I picked them up in comes a half dozen fellahs. I peek though the crack in the door and low and behold one of them well-dressed fellers was the Governor himself. I hurried up and stood up on the terlet so as to keep myself incognito.
Before I could take a breath the Governor says, "Now I called you men in here because it ain't safe to discuss this anywhere else."
The men took up to leaning on a couple sinks as if settling in for an important chit-chat. No one seemed to care about my tool box by the urinal. Anyway the Governor says, "We threw a monkey wrench in their damn unions, we are keeping wages low all across the state in all sectors, we've engineered a culture of part-time workers without benefits; we've turned down countless grants from the Feds to fund nanny-state projects, and we have tinkered with their heath care options. We have the workers in this State on the run boys."
There was a couple of affirmative grunts from the Gov's men.
"Now, look here fellahs," the Governor continued. "We need to put the nail in the coffin. These people can barely get around with low wages causing them to have less cash for gas money, but we can't stop there. We have got to thrust the fatal blow into their spirit. Don't you hear those damn workers singing in my Rotunda?"
There was a couple more affirmative grunts from the Gov's men.
"Now here's how I see it men," the Governor now lowered his voice. He glanced over his shoulder like his wife might be look'n to catch him take'n a nip, an then he said..., "We kill their pets."
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.
"Don't you see, men?" the Governor said, filling the awkward silence. "We can turn their cry-baby rants about that dumb dead deer in Kenosha into a positive. Look at the death of Giggles the fawn as a preemptive strike on the nonsensical need for the working poor to care for some so-called needy little animals. We can turn this Giggles-gate foolishness to our advantage. Once we kill enough of their little fuzzy animals, their spirit will be finished. There is no room for sentimentality in our new economy. We need these people to be preoccupied with continuous cheap labor, not wasting their time raising pets."
The Governor took a breath like he only had one lung, and then continued.
"I've given a Gubernatorial wink and nod to all state enforcement agencies to search every home and business in Wisconsin one by one to hunt down their fuzzy little critters..., and kill them. We'll find some pretense to enter their domiciles, then once inside, make some rationale to kill their pets. Call them critters a threat to investigating personnel or what ever you want. I've got my lawyers looking into how the Chi-coms beat down the peeps."
I could see the men scratching their chins as the Governor paused.
"You see men," the Governor said enthusiastically. "I take my cue from Richard Nixon. If you can't get rid of your enemies, then attack what they love. Nixon attacked his enemies, the hippies, by declaring war on their marijuana. It was brilliant. The beauty of our version is, we will attack our enemies, them pesky workers, by declaring war on their pets."
They Governor's men all grunted, nodded, slapped each other on the back, and ushered each other out of the restroom as fast as they had came in.
I snuck out of the stall, tightened the pipe on the urinal, picked up my tool box, and got the hell out of there.
At the end of the story Ol' Robert Lee downed the last of his beer in one giant gulp and wiped his mouth on his work shirt sleeve. As he moved from his spot a bit he winced from the pain in his hip from that bullet. "Better have another beer, my mouth is dry as a popcorn fart," Robert said and smiled.
There was another pregnant pause amongst the group of listeners, now crowded around the end of the bar . I quickly summoned the bartender lady and ordered two beers each all around.
As the many beers were plunked on the bar top one by one, there was another awkward silence except for the plunking of the full pint glasses. Finally, one of my wry-witted drinking pals said...,
"Any one ever see that old video short from the late 1960's? This whole Giggles-gate thing kind of reminds me of that little movie. What was it called..., Godzilla verses Bambi? "
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Lima Center, Wisconsin, man charged with hate crime for burning Chinese flag - PoliticoDadio - Week of 7 August 2013
7 August 2013
Lima Center, Wisconsin, man charged with hate crime for burning Chinese flag - PoliticoDadio - Week of 7 August 2013
This entry was posted on 8/7/2013 1:29 AM and is filed under PoliticoDadio.
I was in my favorite neighborhood watering hole the other day; it is a more than adequate gin mill tavern for the Dadio's needs. I was already well into happy hour and then some. An enhanced conversation down the bar had drawn a couple pals of mine. The diversion woke me out of my day dream. I had lost count of beers downed, which is usually a sign of some pending debauchery. I blew the foam off my latest glass of Wisconsin brew and moved down a few stools to hear the story.
A scruffy-faced blue-collar guy I had seen now and then in said watering hole, but never caught his name was telling the story. He was repeating a tale he claimed he had heard another feller tell. This other feller had told the story in one of our other hangouts and was supposedly wearing a well-worn suit coat and had claimed this story could be found in a local newspaper. But this so-called suit coat clad fella could not recall which paper. And, the scruffy-faced blue-collar guy could not recount what the well-worn suit coat fellow's name was. There was a pregnant pause and so one of my pals quickly bought a round of beers for the now burgeoning group, and the story was thus consummated.
"This is what this here well-worn suit coat fellow was saying," the scruffy-faced blue-collar guy said. Then he added the caveat, "Don't kill the messenger fellahs; this is just what I heard."
This scruffy-faced blue-collar guy looked 65 but was probably 40. I deduced he most likely had spent one too many days under the hot sun pulling cement and/or asphalt. His work boots and pants had a couple of permanent concrete stains on board. His work shirt was pressed but un-tucked, and he had a pocket full of pens and a roll of twenty dollar bills bulged from his shirt pocket. I took him for some kind of foreman.
As the scruffy-faced blue-collar guy launched into the story, we were all amazed at his memory of the details. It flowed as if we were hearing it right out of the paper:
Sid MacFarlane of Lima Center, Wisconsin, told the newspaper, "Hell, I didn't know it was some kind of crime to burn a Chinaman's flag. I was just so disgusted when I went into the store and couldn't find anything made in America. The last time I was in a big store, their motto was 'American Made.' But I was preoccupied up in jail for a few years and just recently was released. Guess I'm a'hind the times."
MacFarlane admitted to the paper he was unfamiliar with the current trend that little if anything is made in America any more.
"Hell," MacFarlane was quoted as saying, "All I was looking for was some slippers for my step ma. Her husband, my dad, had served in World War II - he died years ago - but I wanted to help her out when her feet swolled up, 'cause she always looked after my dad after my real ma died."
According to Rock County authorities, MacFarlane went into a rage when he got the slippers to his step mother's house in Janesville and realized they were made in China.
"It was then, I realize what my cousin Marty was trying to tell me all those years," the 62 year old MacFarlane said. "The whole time I was in jail, Cousin Marty kept saying, 'All our jobs went to China.' Marty is 66 and still lives with his ma, my aunt, that be'in ma's sister, 'cause according to him, he can't find a job 'cause the Chinamens took them all."
According to neighbors, after giving the slippers to his step mother, MacFarlane went to a novelty shop in Janesville the next day and bought a Chinese flag, measuring five feet by three and a half feet. He doused the flag with gasoline and hoisted it up on his stepmother's flag pole, above an up-side-down American flag.
"My dad put that flag pole up when they moved to town after he retired from farming out in Lima," MacFarlane said.
MacFarlane told police that after sitting on a lawn chair in his step mother's back yard and drinking beer for a bit, he doused Lawn Jarts with gasoline and then set them on fire one by one. He tossed them one by one at the Chinese flag until one finally ignited the state symbol of Communist China.
"We always had two sets of Lawn Jarts in the basement storage room," MacFarlane said. "So I had plenty of ammunition."
A neighbor, Phyllis Schmitt, saw the strange flame above the trees and called 911. "Hell, I didn't mean to get Sid in trouble," Schmitt said. "If I a' knew he was going to burn a Commie flag I would have joined in. My first husband served in the Korean War. He always told me so many Chinamen's came over the ridge their machine guns got red hot just a' kill'n em. I called the police because I thought a plane or something had crashed in the trees. It was a hell of a blaze."
Mutual aid officers covering Rock County at the time responded to the scene because Janesville Police and Rock County Deputies were preoccupied at another complaint involving toilet paper being thrown in several trees on the other side of town. The responding officers decided to cite MacFarlane for disturbing the peace and disorderly conduct; but, not for burning the Chinese flag, but rather for putting the American flag up-side-down.
But later that day, prosecutors took a dimmer view of MacFarlane's shenanigans and decided to add a hate related crime enhancer to the charge. MacFarlane faces a 75 Dollar fine for the disorderly conduct charge. But, with the hate crime addition, MacFarlane could face up to a 10,000 dollar fine and one year in jail, or both.
"My wife just bought a dandy set of lawn furniture made in China," assistant prosecutor Elmer Kline said. "I don't see what all the furor is over Chinese products. How can you hate a country for something as innocuous as lawn furniture and slippers. This is clearly a hate crime if I have ever seen one."
Kline went on to say, "If it's the communist thing Mr. MacFarlane is in a tizzy about, that seems overblown as well. American law enforcement, government, and media, has learned some valuable tips from Communist Chinese techniques regarding the control of citizenry. Their skills at curbing information flow for instance, are invaluable."
Police said MacFarlane was release on his own recognizance until his court hearing. MacFarlane asked officers to drop him off at Judy's Tavern which is not far from the scene of the incident.
At the end of the story the scruffy-faced blue-collar guy downed one last beer in two gulps and wiped his mouth on his work shirt sleeve.
There was another pregnant pause. I quickly summoned the bartender lady and ordered beer all around.
As the beers were plunked on the bar top one by one, there was another awkward silence except for the plunking of the full pint glasses. Finally, one of my wry-witted drinking pals said...,
"Ain't been to Judy's in a while. 'Taint too bad a place to get drunk in now and then."
Lima Center, Wisconsin, man charged with hate crime for burning Chinese flag - PoliticoDadio - Week of 7 August 2013
This entry was posted on 8/7/2013 1:29 AM and is filed under PoliticoDadio.
I was in my favorite neighborhood watering hole the other day; it is a more than adequate gin mill tavern for the Dadio's needs. I was already well into happy hour and then some. An enhanced conversation down the bar had drawn a couple pals of mine. The diversion woke me out of my day dream. I had lost count of beers downed, which is usually a sign of some pending debauchery. I blew the foam off my latest glass of Wisconsin brew and moved down a few stools to hear the story.
A scruffy-faced blue-collar guy I had seen now and then in said watering hole, but never caught his name was telling the story. He was repeating a tale he claimed he had heard another feller tell. This other feller had told the story in one of our other hangouts and was supposedly wearing a well-worn suit coat and had claimed this story could be found in a local newspaper. But this so-called suit coat clad fella could not recall which paper. And, the scruffy-faced blue-collar guy could not recount what the well-worn suit coat fellow's name was. There was a pregnant pause and so one of my pals quickly bought a round of beers for the now burgeoning group, and the story was thus consummated.
"This is what this here well-worn suit coat fellow was saying," the scruffy-faced blue-collar guy said. Then he added the caveat, "Don't kill the messenger fellahs; this is just what I heard."
This scruffy-faced blue-collar guy looked 65 but was probably 40. I deduced he most likely had spent one too many days under the hot sun pulling cement and/or asphalt. His work boots and pants had a couple of permanent concrete stains on board. His work shirt was pressed but un-tucked, and he had a pocket full of pens and a roll of twenty dollar bills bulged from his shirt pocket. I took him for some kind of foreman.
As the scruffy-faced blue-collar guy launched into the story, we were all amazed at his memory of the details. It flowed as if we were hearing it right out of the paper:
Sid MacFarlane of Lima Center, Wisconsin, told the newspaper, "Hell, I didn't know it was some kind of crime to burn a Chinaman's flag. I was just so disgusted when I went into the store and couldn't find anything made in America. The last time I was in a big store, their motto was 'American Made.' But I was preoccupied up in jail for a few years and just recently was released. Guess I'm a'hind the times."
MacFarlane admitted to the paper he was unfamiliar with the current trend that little if anything is made in America any more.
"Hell," MacFarlane was quoted as saying, "All I was looking for was some slippers for my step ma. Her husband, my dad, had served in World War II - he died years ago - but I wanted to help her out when her feet swolled up, 'cause she always looked after my dad after my real ma died."
According to Rock County authorities, MacFarlane went into a rage when he got the slippers to his step mother's house in Janesville and realized they were made in China.
"It was then, I realize what my cousin Marty was trying to tell me all those years," the 62 year old MacFarlane said. "The whole time I was in jail, Cousin Marty kept saying, 'All our jobs went to China.' Marty is 66 and still lives with his ma, my aunt, that be'in ma's sister, 'cause according to him, he can't find a job 'cause the Chinamens took them all."
According to neighbors, after giving the slippers to his step mother, MacFarlane went to a novelty shop in Janesville the next day and bought a Chinese flag, measuring five feet by three and a half feet. He doused the flag with gasoline and hoisted it up on his stepmother's flag pole, above an up-side-down American flag.
"My dad put that flag pole up when they moved to town after he retired from farming out in Lima," MacFarlane said.
MacFarlane told police that after sitting on a lawn chair in his step mother's back yard and drinking beer for a bit, he doused Lawn Jarts with gasoline and then set them on fire one by one. He tossed them one by one at the Chinese flag until one finally ignited the state symbol of Communist China.
"We always had two sets of Lawn Jarts in the basement storage room," MacFarlane said. "So I had plenty of ammunition."
A neighbor, Phyllis Schmitt, saw the strange flame above the trees and called 911. "Hell, I didn't mean to get Sid in trouble," Schmitt said. "If I a' knew he was going to burn a Commie flag I would have joined in. My first husband served in the Korean War. He always told me so many Chinamen's came over the ridge their machine guns got red hot just a' kill'n em. I called the police because I thought a plane or something had crashed in the trees. It was a hell of a blaze."
Mutual aid officers covering Rock County at the time responded to the scene because Janesville Police and Rock County Deputies were preoccupied at another complaint involving toilet paper being thrown in several trees on the other side of town. The responding officers decided to cite MacFarlane for disturbing the peace and disorderly conduct; but, not for burning the Chinese flag, but rather for putting the American flag up-side-down.
But later that day, prosecutors took a dimmer view of MacFarlane's shenanigans and decided to add a hate related crime enhancer to the charge. MacFarlane faces a 75 Dollar fine for the disorderly conduct charge. But, with the hate crime addition, MacFarlane could face up to a 10,000 dollar fine and one year in jail, or both.
"My wife just bought a dandy set of lawn furniture made in China," assistant prosecutor Elmer Kline said. "I don't see what all the furor is over Chinese products. How can you hate a country for something as innocuous as lawn furniture and slippers. This is clearly a hate crime if I have ever seen one."
Kline went on to say, "If it's the communist thing Mr. MacFarlane is in a tizzy about, that seems overblown as well. American law enforcement, government, and media, has learned some valuable tips from Communist Chinese techniques regarding the control of citizenry. Their skills at curbing information flow for instance, are invaluable."
Police said MacFarlane was release on his own recognizance until his court hearing. MacFarlane asked officers to drop him off at Judy's Tavern which is not far from the scene of the incident.
At the end of the story the scruffy-faced blue-collar guy downed one last beer in two gulps and wiped his mouth on his work shirt sleeve.
There was another pregnant pause. I quickly summoned the bartender lady and ordered beer all around.
As the beers were plunked on the bar top one by one, there was another awkward silence except for the plunking of the full pint glasses. Finally, one of my wry-witted drinking pals said...,
"Ain't been to Judy's in a while. 'Taint too bad a place to get drunk in now and then."
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Radio's "Sly" may get last laugh - PoliticoDadio - Week of 13 February 2013
13 February 2013
Radio's "Sly" may get last laugh - PoliticoDadio - Week of 13 February 2013
This entry was posted on 2/13/2013 1:29 AM and is filed under PoliticoDadio.
Information buffs of all things local media, no doubt already know long-time Madison, Wisconsin, radio personality John Sylvester, "Sly," has moved his shtick from "the city of the perpetually offended," down the road to Monroe, Wisconsin, "the town known for cheese and surrounded by corn."
A few years ago back in the 1990s Midwest Family Broadcasting in Madison brought "Sly" over to do talk radio. The old radio sage had been working for another company and was doing music radio with some chit chat. At that time Midwest hawked 1480 and then 1670 WTDY AM as all-local-news-and-talk-all-the-time. When the Great Recession came a'call'n around 2006 or so, it did not take Midwest Family long to slowly but surely dismantled the all-local-all-the-time format. By 2010 or so, all that survived of that original "local" rubric was..., "Sly in the Morning."
Then, just before the holiday season 2012, and in classic radio business crassness, "Sly" and the entire morning staff got...., canned - news, traffic, weather..., and "Sly." I don't understand the logic, well I do, but give me a break. Bang, 1670 put on some bad music and even worse non-local news and talk. Now they are pretty well transitioned to all-sports-all-the-time, and with a new moniker.
Hey! Here's an idea that no one has ever thought of. Let's put on all-lame-sports-all-the-time, emanating from points far away from good ol' Wisconsin, and with pontificating young snarky hosts, that most likely live in their moms' basements.
I get it. With lame national syndicated shows, come lame national advertisers and..., money.
But what of "Sly"?
Well, the radio gods apparently shone down kindly on ol' "Sly." After several weeks, and no doubt some nights of unemployed anxiety for said radio host, a local radio venue out of Monore, Wisconsin, picked him up. The Big Radio family of five stations has resisted selling out to big lame media. Sly is hosting a show from 3:00 to 6:30 p.m. Monday through Friday on 93.7 FM radio. For those that know his show up in Madison, the format has so far held fairly similar since down in Monroe.
Just between you and me, I am wondering if ol' "Sly" may come out of this mass-canning up in Madison with the last laugh. The power of 1670 AM was weak with around 10,000 Watts. "Sly's" new venue at 93.7 FM boasts 36,000 Watts. These new digs and increased power, encompass "Sly's" old listening area plus a whole new area on the Wisconsin / Illinois state line.
For those that know "Sly's" style, he can irritate both "right" and "left." And of course, that is right up ol' Dadio's alley. I had a chance to do an interview with a different show on 1670 up at Midwest Family regarding my journalist work in Iraq. Poetically, I also did a couple interviews down at 93.7. Both venues were kind to me. But, I do have a bit of a soft spot for Big Radio as I was actually interviewed by owner Scott Thompson both times on his own radio show on 93.7 FM.
The combination of "Sly's" experience, loyal fans, and loyal advertisers, coupled with the new frequency range of 93.7 could be a damn good merger just made for all parties concerned.
Personally, I am hoping it works out for "Sly." I am fatigued by the relentless grinding of workers into the dirt in the name of the "new norm" American economic rubric. And, I am sick of hundreds of unhappy stories emanating from this so called "Great Recession."
The Dadio for one..., will be tuned in to 93.7 FM in the afternoons at every chance.
Radio's "Sly" may get last laugh - PoliticoDadio - Week of 13 February 2013
This entry was posted on 2/13/2013 1:29 AM and is filed under PoliticoDadio.
Information buffs of all things local media, no doubt already know long-time Madison, Wisconsin, radio personality John Sylvester, "Sly," has moved his shtick from "the city of the perpetually offended," down the road to Monroe, Wisconsin, "the town known for cheese and surrounded by corn."
A few years ago back in the 1990s Midwest Family Broadcasting in Madison brought "Sly" over to do talk radio. The old radio sage had been working for another company and was doing music radio with some chit chat. At that time Midwest hawked 1480 and then 1670 WTDY AM as all-local-news-and-talk-all-the-time. When the Great Recession came a'call'n around 2006 or so, it did not take Midwest Family long to slowly but surely dismantled the all-local-all-the-time format. By 2010 or so, all that survived of that original "local" rubric was..., "Sly in the Morning."
Then, just before the holiday season 2012, and in classic radio business crassness, "Sly" and the entire morning staff got...., canned - news, traffic, weather..., and "Sly." I don't understand the logic, well I do, but give me a break. Bang, 1670 put on some bad music and even worse non-local news and talk. Now they are pretty well transitioned to all-sports-all-the-time, and with a new moniker.
Hey! Here's an idea that no one has ever thought of. Let's put on all-lame-sports-all-the-time, emanating from points far away from good ol' Wisconsin, and with pontificating young snarky hosts, that most likely live in their moms' basements.
I get it. With lame national syndicated shows, come lame national advertisers and..., money.
But what of "Sly"?
Well, the radio gods apparently shone down kindly on ol' "Sly." After several weeks, and no doubt some nights of unemployed anxiety for said radio host, a local radio venue out of Monore, Wisconsin, picked him up. The Big Radio family of five stations has resisted selling out to big lame media. Sly is hosting a show from 3:00 to 6:30 p.m. Monday through Friday on 93.7 FM radio. For those that know his show up in Madison, the format has so far held fairly similar since down in Monroe.
Just between you and me, I am wondering if ol' "Sly" may come out of this mass-canning up in Madison with the last laugh. The power of 1670 AM was weak with around 10,000 Watts. "Sly's" new venue at 93.7 FM boasts 36,000 Watts. These new digs and increased power, encompass "Sly's" old listening area plus a whole new area on the Wisconsin / Illinois state line.
For those that know "Sly's" style, he can irritate both "right" and "left." And of course, that is right up ol' Dadio's alley. I had a chance to do an interview with a different show on 1670 up at Midwest Family regarding my journalist work in Iraq. Poetically, I also did a couple interviews down at 93.7. Both venues were kind to me. But, I do have a bit of a soft spot for Big Radio as I was actually interviewed by owner Scott Thompson both times on his own radio show on 93.7 FM.
The combination of "Sly's" experience, loyal fans, and loyal advertisers, coupled with the new frequency range of 93.7 could be a damn good merger just made for all parties concerned.
Personally, I am hoping it works out for "Sly." I am fatigued by the relentless grinding of workers into the dirt in the name of the "new norm" American economic rubric. And, I am sick of hundreds of unhappy stories emanating from this so called "Great Recession."
The Dadio for one..., will be tuned in to 93.7 FM in the afternoons at every chance.
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