The Odd Thing Is...

...that in this picture, I'm actually smiling.

And I still can't figure out what we're doing with this blog.

# six has promised to do some movie-blogging, that's what I thought I would mostly do, but it hasn't happened yet.

Drunk-blogging doesn't work, politics is a dead-end, GWN and OC are holding the bridges, so I guess I should shuffle my notes and prepare to speak my mind about that horrific atrocity, "Once Upon a Time in the.....

The Weiner Wagon

Please visit the following site: http://www.wisinfo.com/dailytribune/wrdtlocal/305093798241342.shtml

for information on "The Weiner Wagon". heh heh heh

And I quote: "I'm a weiner-aholic." And aren't we all? Number 6, are you getting this?

Golly...

...no drunk-blogging tonite. I just spent a frustrating half-hour trying to sign on to a free audio hosting outfit and it seems that they don't quite believe that I'm being perfectly honest as to who I might be. To their loss.

So you're not going to hear my groundbreaking Harry Lauder remix.

Well, maybe more chicken-blogging tomorrow.

Just A Wee Deoch an' Doris

Just A Wee Deoch-an-Doris Words and music by Harry Lauder, Whit Cunliffe, Gerald Grafton submitted by Betty Lauder Hamilton

Lyrics copied from the excellent website www.sirharrylauder.com

A "wee deoch an' doris" is, of course, a little drink at the door before going. Harry Lauder was a great singer, a great entertainer, a great humanitarian, and a great man. Aye! In the Great War he entertained troops in the trenches in France, coming under enemy fire. He raised huge sums for war charities and also paid for uniforms for British troops out of his own pocket. For these and other activities he was later knighted by King George V in 1919. God bless ye, Harry!

verse 1
There's a good old Scottish custom, that has stood the test of time,
It's a custom that is carried out in ev'ry land and clime.
Where brother Scots fore-gather, it's aye the usual thing.
When just before they say guid-nicht, they fill their cups and sing-

Chorus
Just a wee deoch-an-doris, just a wee dram that's a'
Just a wee deoch-an-doris before we gang a-wa'
There's a wee wifie waitin', in a wee but an ben (a "but an ben" is a small cottage)
If you can say, "It's a braw bricht moonlicht nicht"
well ye a'richt ye ken

verse 2
I like a man that is a man, a man that's straight and fair,
The sort of man that will and can, in all things do his share
I like a man, a jolly man, the sort o' man you know,
The chap that slaps your back and says "Here Jock, before you go- "

chorus

verse 3 (This verse doesn't appear on any of the many recordings I have.)
I'll invite you all some other nicht, to come and bring your wives.
I'll promise you the grandest time you'll have in all your lives!
I'll hae the bagpipes skirling, (hoch) and we'll dance the Hieland fling.
And just for auld acquaintance sake, we'll a' unite and sing-

chorus repeat

Check for other lyrics to other great songs such as "I Love a Lassie" on www.sirharrylauder.com .

An Interesting Development

It turns out that, except when I'm drunk-blogging, I'm too lazy to post. This will require some hard thought...

Well...

...there isn't a lick that Jay-Bee hit that wasn't straight out of Noam's published works, so I assume that # six is gonna scoot way back in the weeds so's to not get sprayed with any of the cat pee whizzing around.

Or he could post.

Prolly not.

Gee Whizz

In the time it takes me to scope the blog with my dialup you gunsels could post four or five times!

Every now and then some artsy-fartsy blog posts a link to a to some sorry sumbitch that started a blog back in '99.

He posts a wake-up call to the world about how his blog is going to bust the lid offa things and then...

And then he acts like you mutts and goes off into the weeds.

You were online yesterday, right? You saw something amusing, right?

POST the f**king thing.

Or answer to me.

It's free, but you can't be bothered...

So nobody else's got anything to say about Bennish. I do, however.

Insofar as I can tell, he's shockingly far from the norm. Of Pup and Spud's teachers over these many years I'd bet that 95% have never even considered voting for a Republican and there's only one I know of that has forthrightly claimed to be one, but the kids have never once reported anything vaguely close to the crazed outburst recorded.

One of Spud's favorite teachers, in unguarded moments, lets fly with his personal opinion that 9/11 was a conspiracy at the highest levels, but spends almost all his teaching time mightily belaboring his charges into using their brains for something other than holding their ears apart, constantly challenging them from every direction. Spud loves him and so do I. God bless'im.

Of the teachers I've managed to steer my kids away from (by bullying whichever principal, who without fail opened the discussion by stating categorically that there would be no "teacher-shopping" and always ended by acquiescing completely) there was not one that was skidded for political reasons.

Soapbox nutbars like Bennish have nothing at all to do with my dissatisfaction with the pubic school system in my town. It has everything to do with the brazen incompetents who get up every morning, suit up, look at themselves in the mirror and go to work at a decent wage and a fabulous benefit package who simply can't do their job. I've met too many.

They don't know how to think. They don't know how to speak. They don't know how to write. And they sure as heck don't know how to teach. The woods are full of them.

If this seems ungenerous, be assured that it's just experience. I've met with tenured teachers that couldn't spell common words in basic English. I've met with tenured teachers that couldn't discern between basic arithmetical signs. I've met with tenured teachers that I wouldn't trust to take out the garbage in the cafeteria. I've gotten my kids away from these mutts, yet the mutts still flourish. And they will be gumming their zwieback fifty years from now on my nickle. And your's.

It's obvious from listening to Bennish that he's incompetent. What we don't and won't hear is those many teachers who express their incompetence in more acceptable ways.

The current Bennish folderol is a dead end in the question of the fitness of any of our public school teachers. For every sui generis like Bennish there is a whole flock (my guess -- 15%) of incompetent timeservers who can't be shifted from the trough.

If Bennish moves on to greener pastures, I'll be pleased. If there is a tiny handful of other nutbar teachers like him who are chastened into avoiding his mistakes, I'll be pleased. But the mass of deadweight won't be moved. The problems of public schooling, and they are monstrous and manifold, are being nowhere addressed by this frenzy and likely never will be in my life.

Go figure.

I Know It's Wrong, But I'm Weak.

This MP3 file is not to be missed. (warning: 20 meg)

Pop quiz:

1) What country is the world's leading tobacco producer?

2) How many other errors can you spot?

3) What class is the speaker teaching?

4) Who might his favorite author be?

Back later with the particulars.