I have been thinking of sending our Timid Reporter out to see if he can find Vladimir Putin and pin him down for a short interview. (Perhaps I shouldn't say "short interview" because they are ALL short interviews.) If not Putin, then maybe the new pope - Felipe. Bill Gates might also be interesting. I have a feeling that Gates has a sly sense of humor so he might be a good choice. Anyway, it's all moot if I can't locate our guy. For all I know, he might be out in Tibet taking it easy - pretty much out of reach. I really shouldn't say "taking it easy" because he ALWAYS takes it easy.
Showing posts with label politics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label politics. Show all posts
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Murdered Children
Twenty children and a few adults were murdered yesterday in Newtown, Connecticut. The school Principal was among the victims. The violence occurred in Sandy Hook Elementary School at around 9:40 in the morning. Now, my point is this: when the Principal got up that morning - let's say around 6:00 a.m. - she had absolutely no idea that she would die later that morning. No clue whatsoever. In fact, even ten minutes before she died, she knew nothing about what was about to happen. Neither did anyone else who got shot and died. But God knew. He knows everything, even before it happens. God chose not to intervene. My question - and I keep asking this - why didn't God save them? God is all-powerful and saving the victims would have been absolutely no problem for Him. Why did He not save them? Anyone know?
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Comments
Very, very, very few people make comments on my blog. Very few. The reason for that? On average, about one tenth of one percent of readers make comments on other blogs. I have done the math. On this blog though, the ratio of commenters to readers is much, much, much lower. The reason: maybe it's too much trouble; maybe people don't have anything to say; maybe the blog does not stimulate anyone to contribute any comments; maybe the blog is boring and does not merit the time of day; maybe readers are afraid of me; maybe the blog is not read by anybody. The last reason is the most likely. There are almost ten billion people alive at this very moment - I'm lucky to get four of them to read my posts. So be it - that does not bother me one bit. I actually enjoy talking to myself.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
The Truth
There was a story on NPR this morning about the low birth rates in developed countries. The story included some history about how birth rates were high when the nations (the human race) thought they could be doomed to extinction unless they seriously and assiduously multiplied and multiplied some more. Now that the threat of extinction seems to have disappeared, the focus on reproduction - at least in the Western world and Russia - has been lost. The truth is that we are now closer to becoming extinct than ever before. The nuclear arsenals stockpiled here and there are more than enough to destroy life on the earth 100 times over - except, perhaps, cockroaches. World leaders know this well but are doing their best to keep the lid on.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
US Debt
I think the U.S. debt is so huge it will take forty years to pay off, providing there are no new expenditures. It might even take longer. Politicians always tell us what we want to hear. Their number one job is to keep their job. It is an ego trip they are on. They are only human after all.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Inertia
One of the causes of poverty is simple inertia. I am writing this only to make this account active again. You are free to ignore it. I will keep writing until I have enough lines to cover the photo to the left. I have not decided what photo that will be. Something nice I hope - if I can find something somewhere. In the meantime, I will only beat around the bush, saying nothing. The lady at left did not have to enhance her beauty by applying ink to her body but she did. Friday, March 13, 2009
Fidel Castro interview
Coffee Club Newsletter ©
Volume 18, No. 4 - February 19, 2008
Good morning Coffee Club members. It is not often that our Timid Reporter© takes the initiative to do a story for us (as a matter of fact, he never has), but, evidently inspired by recent events in Cuba, he did just that this time. The Club could not cover his expenses (except for bus fare to the airport) for the long trip so he extended himself a loan to cover them. As always, any similarity to persons actually living or events actually happening is strictly coincidental.
TR: Good afternoon. Are you President Castro?
FC: Que es esto hombre??? Who in heaven’s name do you think I am??? Of course I’m Fidel Castro.
TR: I’m sorry. I always have to make absolutely sure.
FC: You know, I used to have two doubles – just in case – but they died a long time ago. One of them was poisoned by the CIA.
TR: I understand. I won’t take too much of your time because I know you’re not feeling well.
FC: Who told you that? It’s a big lie. I feel in good spirits and I’m doing well – my doctors tell me I’ll outlive all the leaders of the so-called free world.
TR: That’s a lot of leaders.
FC: No, no, my friend, those are not leaders, they’re puppets of the people. And not only that, they pretend to serve the very people they exploit.
TR: But, you have been in power for fifty years.
FC: I don’t see your point, but I am very, very popular and I don’t have to pretend to like or serve anybody.
TR: Yes, of course. I have seen your picture all over Havana. My background notes tell me you have decided to retire?
FC: Yes, but the pictures, the murals, the banners – all that will stay. They will serve the glorious revolution. Also, my poor brother Raul is not very photogenic.
TR: He might not appreciate your saying that.
FC: So … don’t print it.
TR: Ok, I won’t.
FC: I appreciate your candor and simplicity, sir. You are a decent Americano.
TR: Will you be taking it easy, going out to the countryside to relax?
FC: No, I’m going to write another book. If Clinton can do it, so can I.
TR: Is there anything about the U.S. that you like?
FC: Yes, absolutely my friend. I like Madonna.
TR: The singer?
FC: No, the hamburger.
TR: You mean McDonald’s.
FC: Yes, Madonna. I still eat them. My special courier brings them to me whenever I have a craving. I’m lucky that Miami is so close. I order them and they arrive in thirty minutes, then I stick them in the micro. Delicioso!!!
TR: You are very resourceful.
FC: I have to be. Che and I survived in the jungle for years on our wits alone. Poor Che, I remember him fondly. He will be in my book.
TR: Will you have pictures in the book? I like books with pictures.
FC: There will be plenty of pictures. You should see my photo albums. Mao is there, and Nikita, and Yeltsin, and Ho, and Che, and Josip and so many others from the old days.
TR: You don’t have Stalin? I remember him. I have an autographed picture of Trotsky with Frida Kahlo – dedicated to me, when I lived in Mexico City.
FC: You must be very old – older than I. How is that possible? Give me the picture. I could use it for my book.
TR: Yes, gladly. It’s black and white, is that OK?
FC: My dear friend, we are not particular about color. If the revolution has taught us anything, it’s that technology is a tool of the classes.
TR: Even color photography?
FC: Yes, even color photography. You have to see the big panorama of humanity, of society. Any time that someone comes out with a new gadget, a new device, a new tool, even a new magazine, rest assured that it will be used to lull the masses to sleep, to keep them in their place. That way, the classes can ride around in their fancy cars and live in their fancy houses with their color photography. Simplicity my friend, that’s the nature of Communism. Back to the Earth - back to the soil.
TR: So, will everybody be a farmer?
FC: No, no, no, only those who are good at it. You work at what you are capable of doing. Then everybody shares in the fruits of your labor.
TR: So, if I work hard and make lots of money I have to share my paycheck with a farmer?
FC: Yes, but he shares his corn and wheat and sweet potatoes with you.
TR: But, I get that at the supermarket.
FC: You do not understand.
TR: I guess not. What if someone is kind of lazy and doesn’t work all that hard?
FC: We put him in jail.
TR: I think I have to be leaving now.
FC: Buy my book, it will explain everything.
TR: I will send you some McDonald’s coupons when I get to Miami.
FC: Thank you my friend. You are very kind. The reporter must still be waiting outside. Please tell him to come in on your way out. Adios.
Volume 18, No. 4 - February 19, 2008
Good morning Coffee Club members. It is not often that our Timid Reporter© takes the initiative to do a story for us (as a matter of fact, he never has), but, evidently inspired by recent events in Cuba, he did just that this time. The Club could not cover his expenses (except for bus fare to the airport) for the long trip so he extended himself a loan to cover them. As always, any similarity to persons actually living or events actually happening is strictly coincidental.
TR: Good afternoon. Are you President Castro?
FC: Que es esto hombre??? Who in heaven’s name do you think I am??? Of course I’m Fidel Castro.
TR: I’m sorry. I always have to make absolutely sure.
FC: You know, I used to have two doubles – just in case – but they died a long time ago. One of them was poisoned by the CIA.
TR: I understand. I won’t take too much of your time because I know you’re not feeling well.
FC: Who told you that? It’s a big lie. I feel in good spirits and I’m doing well – my doctors tell me I’ll outlive all the leaders of the so-called free world.
TR: That’s a lot of leaders.
FC: No, no, my friend, those are not leaders, they’re puppets of the people. And not only that, they pretend to serve the very people they exploit.
TR: But, you have been in power for fifty years.
FC: I don’t see your point, but I am very, very popular and I don’t have to pretend to like or serve anybody.
TR: Yes, of course. I have seen your picture all over Havana. My background notes tell me you have decided to retire?
FC: Yes, but the pictures, the murals, the banners – all that will stay. They will serve the glorious revolution. Also, my poor brother Raul is not very photogenic.
TR: He might not appreciate your saying that.
FC: So … don’t print it.
TR: Ok, I won’t.
FC: I appreciate your candor and simplicity, sir. You are a decent Americano.
TR: Will you be taking it easy, going out to the countryside to relax?
FC: No, I’m going to write another book. If Clinton can do it, so can I.
TR: Is there anything about the U.S. that you like?
FC: Yes, absolutely my friend. I like Madonna.
TR: The singer?
FC: No, the hamburger.
TR: You mean McDonald’s.
FC: Yes, Madonna. I still eat them. My special courier brings them to me whenever I have a craving. I’m lucky that Miami is so close. I order them and they arrive in thirty minutes, then I stick them in the micro. Delicioso!!!
TR: You are very resourceful.
FC: I have to be. Che and I survived in the jungle for years on our wits alone. Poor Che, I remember him fondly. He will be in my book.
TR: Will you have pictures in the book? I like books with pictures.
FC: There will be plenty of pictures. You should see my photo albums. Mao is there, and Nikita, and Yeltsin, and Ho, and Che, and Josip and so many others from the old days.
TR: You don’t have Stalin? I remember him. I have an autographed picture of Trotsky with Frida Kahlo – dedicated to me, when I lived in Mexico City.
FC: You must be very old – older than I. How is that possible? Give me the picture. I could use it for my book.
TR: Yes, gladly. It’s black and white, is that OK?
FC: My dear friend, we are not particular about color. If the revolution has taught us anything, it’s that technology is a tool of the classes.
TR: Even color photography?
FC: Yes, even color photography. You have to see the big panorama of humanity, of society. Any time that someone comes out with a new gadget, a new device, a new tool, even a new magazine, rest assured that it will be used to lull the masses to sleep, to keep them in their place. That way, the classes can ride around in their fancy cars and live in their fancy houses with their color photography. Simplicity my friend, that’s the nature of Communism. Back to the Earth - back to the soil.
TR: So, will everybody be a farmer?
FC: No, no, no, only those who are good at it. You work at what you are capable of doing. Then everybody shares in the fruits of your labor.
TR: So, if I work hard and make lots of money I have to share my paycheck with a farmer?
FC: Yes, but he shares his corn and wheat and sweet potatoes with you.
TR: But, I get that at the supermarket.
FC: You do not understand.
TR: I guess not. What if someone is kind of lazy and doesn’t work all that hard?
FC: We put him in jail.
TR: I think I have to be leaving now.
FC: Buy my book, it will explain everything.
TR: I will send you some McDonald’s coupons when I get to Miami.
FC: Thank you my friend. You are very kind. The reporter must still be waiting outside. Please tell him to come in on your way out. Adios.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Hugo Chavez interview
Coffee Club Newsletter ©
Volume 18, No. 9 - March 19, 2008
The following is the only-slightly-edited interview done almost a year ago with Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez. For security reasons, we cannot disclose precisely when the interview took place. As always, any similarity to persons actually living or events actually happening is strictly coincidental.
TR: Good afternoon. Are you President Chavez?
HC: Of course. I’m Hugo Chavez!! Para que pregunta hombre? You may call me Hugo. Consider me your friend.
TR: I don’t know how to be informal with famous or powerful people. I would be more comfortable with President Chavez.
HC: I am President Chavez.
TR: That’s not what I meant.
HC: Explain yourself hombre. Don’t be afraid.
TR: I have trouble with that.
HC: Let me tell you a story. I used to stutter. Would you believe that?
TR: No.
HC: Well, just believe it. Kids used to make fun of me until the day I met this very nice girl who told me she would cure me of the problem. I was only fourteen and I knew nothing about girls so I just laughed at her. Do you hear me stuttering any more?
TR: No sir.
HC: Well, she cured me.
TR: How?
HC: Use your imagination hombre. By seven o’clock that afternoon I was free of my little problem. Needless to say, I have been grateful to her ever since. She is now my Assistant Secretary of Labor.
TR: You’re a very nice man.
HC: That’s what I keep trying to tell the world. Let me ask you a favor, I would prefer this interview be done in Spanish.
TR: I am not fluent…. My eight readers won’t understand a word.
HC: Don’t use excuses, just make the effort.
TR: Ok. Esta bien, Mr. Presidente.
HC: You see. You have lost your fear. I was just testing you.
TR: You made me believe.
HC: I’m a good poker player – the best in all of Venezuela.
TR: I can see why.
HC: I read your interview of Fidel.
TR: How did that happen? You’re not a member of the Coffee Club.
HC: I have sources all over my friend. Even Putin calls me for information. I’m like your IRS, FBI, CIA, ICE, NSC, NSA, DIA, and Army Corp. of Engineers combined.
TR: I have never interviewed them.
HC: You never will. They are too embarrassed by what happened to your beautiful New Orleans.
TR: You keep yourself informed of everything?
HC: Not only that, I am presently studying four languages. I have a special tutor – a beautiful Swedish woman who is fluent in fourteen languages.
TR: Which languages are you studying?
HC: German, Russian, French, and Chinese.
TR: No Swedish?
HC: I’m learning that informally, as we go along.
TR: I think I know what you mean.
HC: It doesn’t matter. It’s confidential and you can’t publish that.
TR: I won’t.
HC: The important thing is that I have come to realize that it’s very hard to understand a culture completely unless you speak the language. That’s the secret code, if you will.
TR: Is that why President Bush doesn’t understand you?
HC: No. He just has a problem understanding anything.
TR: He won’t like what you just said.
HC: Does he read your newsletter?
TR: I don’t think so.
HC: Well then, don’t worry. If he makes trouble for you, you can come live in Venezuela.
TR: Can I write for the newspapers here, Mr. President?
HC: You can do whatever you like. This is a free country.
TR: I would like to work for El Sistema.
HC: You have heard of it. Good. That’s one of our many success stories. We have placed thousands of children in these huge orchestras to learn music and art instead of violence. You don’t see them out in the streets demonstrating, do you? We are now studying the possibility of starting a Sistema for adults. The only trouble is they’re too lazy to practice.
TR: How do you know?
HC: Maestro Dudamel told me so.
TR: Where would you get so many instruments?
HC: That’s not a problem - mostly out of Germany, Russia, and Cuba. One of my cousins takes care of all the imports into Venezuela and the government pays for everything.
TR: Do you have a favorite in the upcoming elections in the U.S.?
HC: Right now, that’s too touchy a subject so I won’t answer that. Besides, I am not one to interfere in the internal affairs of other countries.
TR: Thank you, sir. You have been most gracious.
HC: Come back soon my friend. Vaya con Dios.
Volume 18, No. 9 - March 19, 2008
The following is the only-slightly-edited interview done almost a year ago with Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez. For security reasons, we cannot disclose precisely when the interview took place. As always, any similarity to persons actually living or events actually happening is strictly coincidental.
TR: Good afternoon. Are you President Chavez?
HC: Of course. I’m Hugo Chavez!! Para que pregunta hombre? You may call me Hugo. Consider me your friend.
TR: I don’t know how to be informal with famous or powerful people. I would be more comfortable with President Chavez.
HC: I am President Chavez.
TR: That’s not what I meant.
HC: Explain yourself hombre. Don’t be afraid.
TR: I have trouble with that.
HC: Let me tell you a story. I used to stutter. Would you believe that?
TR: No.
HC: Well, just believe it. Kids used to make fun of me until the day I met this very nice girl who told me she would cure me of the problem. I was only fourteen and I knew nothing about girls so I just laughed at her. Do you hear me stuttering any more?
TR: No sir.
HC: Well, she cured me.
TR: How?
HC: Use your imagination hombre. By seven o’clock that afternoon I was free of my little problem. Needless to say, I have been grateful to her ever since. She is now my Assistant Secretary of Labor.
TR: You’re a very nice man.
HC: That’s what I keep trying to tell the world. Let me ask you a favor, I would prefer this interview be done in Spanish.
TR: I am not fluent…. My eight readers won’t understand a word.
HC: Don’t use excuses, just make the effort.
TR: Ok. Esta bien, Mr. Presidente.
HC: You see. You have lost your fear. I was just testing you.
TR: You made me believe.
HC: I’m a good poker player – the best in all of Venezuela.
TR: I can see why.
HC: I read your interview of Fidel.
TR: How did that happen? You’re not a member of the Coffee Club.
HC: I have sources all over my friend. Even Putin calls me for information. I’m like your IRS, FBI, CIA, ICE, NSC, NSA, DIA, and Army Corp. of Engineers combined.
TR: I have never interviewed them.
HC: You never will. They are too embarrassed by what happened to your beautiful New Orleans.
TR: You keep yourself informed of everything?
HC: Not only that, I am presently studying four languages. I have a special tutor – a beautiful Swedish woman who is fluent in fourteen languages.
TR: Which languages are you studying?
HC: German, Russian, French, and Chinese.
TR: No Swedish?
HC: I’m learning that informally, as we go along.
TR: I think I know what you mean.
HC: It doesn’t matter. It’s confidential and you can’t publish that.
TR: I won’t.
HC: The important thing is that I have come to realize that it’s very hard to understand a culture completely unless you speak the language. That’s the secret code, if you will.
TR: Is that why President Bush doesn’t understand you?
HC: No. He just has a problem understanding anything.
TR: He won’t like what you just said.
HC: Does he read your newsletter?
TR: I don’t think so.
HC: Well then, don’t worry. If he makes trouble for you, you can come live in Venezuela.
TR: Can I write for the newspapers here, Mr. President?
HC: You can do whatever you like. This is a free country.
TR: I would like to work for El Sistema.
HC: You have heard of it. Good. That’s one of our many success stories. We have placed thousands of children in these huge orchestras to learn music and art instead of violence. You don’t see them out in the streets demonstrating, do you? We are now studying the possibility of starting a Sistema for adults. The only trouble is they’re too lazy to practice.
TR: How do you know?
HC: Maestro Dudamel told me so.
TR: Where would you get so many instruments?
HC: That’s not a problem - mostly out of Germany, Russia, and Cuba. One of my cousins takes care of all the imports into Venezuela and the government pays for everything.
TR: Do you have a favorite in the upcoming elections in the U.S.?
HC: Right now, that’s too touchy a subject so I won’t answer that. Besides, I am not one to interfere in the internal affairs of other countries.
TR: Thank you, sir. You have been most gracious.
HC: Come back soon my friend. Vaya con Dios.
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