Bluesky, Moving on up from Twitter

 

by Pa Rock

Former Tweeter

I quit Twitter almost six months ago - November 9, 2022 - after more than thirteen years on the platform and somewhere north of 40,000 tweets,   It had taken up too much of my time over the years and was obviously an addiction, but it was one that I enjoyed.  I liked being able to post my own snappy (snarky) little comebacks to the musings and antics of celebrities and politicians.  It made me feel that I was an active part of something that was far bigger than just myself.

But I did not care for Elon Musk, the self-absorbed billionaire who was buying Twitter, and quitting was my way of protesting his purchase as well as all of the future damage that I was sure he would bring to the social media company.   And I was right.  Musk, who is one of those people who believes he is the smartest person in the room, took over the day-to-day management of the company and quickly started making changes that altered the nature of the enterprise:  cutting staff, selling the celebrity blue checkmarks, and inviting the fascist elements who had been banned from the platform back on. 

 Musk also used his position to censor content and to impugn entities that had attracted his personal animosity.    As an example, he recently labeled National Public Radio (NPR) as "state-affiliated media," a designation formerly used with propaganda outlets of autocratic countries like Russia and China.  NPR was not amused and consequently stopped using the social media company.

Part of my lingering consternation with leaving Twitter was that there is no similar outlet on which to easily and quickly vent my occasional frustrations.  Twitter was convenient and very easy to access and use.  I signed onto a couple of other social media outlets, but never actually used any of them.

Then this morning while listening to my favorite state-affiliated media, National Public Radio, I heard a story about a new service that they described as very similar to Twitter and that is currently in the process of being tested and slowly emerging into the market.  The service, called Bluesky, began being developed in 2019 by Jack Dorsey, the founder, developer, and former CEO of Twitter, and supposedly looks and operates very much like the original Twitter, but has more direct control by users.  It is currently working in a Beta (test) format with a limited number of users.

But Bluesky is ramping-up and attracting a first wave of celebrity users who are entering through direct invitations from the company, and over the past few days it  has ginned-up a strong public relations news release that is promoting the company  across the media landscape.

While Elon is still offending celebrities, politicians, and other big shots as he squirrels around with trying to remake Twitter into his own greedy and vindictive image, Bluesky is cheerfully inviting many of those same people to come on over and give their friendlier version of Twitter a try.  As the company's PR blitz poitnts out, Alexandria Occasio Cortez and Chrissy Teigen have made the switch, and they seem to like it.

And for those lesser mortals, like this humble typist, who probably won't be "invited in" any time soon, a sign-up waiting list is available on the company's website where already over a million people are cooling their heels as they await their turn to join Bluesky.    It is the simplest application ever - all you have to do is type in your email address.

Pa Rock is already on the list and patiently waiting for his turn to move on up from Twitter. Brighter days and blue skies are in our future!

Texas, Bloody Texas!

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

Last night at around 11:30 Texas time, a man was out in his yard in Cleveland, Jacinto County, Texas, firing his AR-15 semi-automatic weapon just as he often did.  The neighbors had grown used to this dangerous noise and often tried to ignore him while working to keep their children calm.  But last night some neighbors had apparently had enough.  They came up to the fence and asked the man to stop shooting so that a baby in their household could get some sleep.  

The shooter was intoxicated.

The complaining neighbors made the shooter angry, and he then went into their house and opened fire on the people who were inside.  Five people ranging in age from eight to forty were gunned down and killed, mostly with " execution-style" shots to the head.  Three of those who died were female and two - including the eight-year-old - were male.

Two of the women who were killed were found lying on top of small children to protect them.  Those children survived, though they were covered in the blood of their mothers.

The shooter and his gun had departed the area by the time officers from the county sheriff's department arrived.  This morning he is still described as being "on the loose."  Police are searching for the shooter, and they do know his identity.

Texas:  a land where guns have more protections than humans - and a great place to avoid on your next family vacation!

Trump Is Too Damned Old to be President!

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

I am 75-years old, and this much I know:  I am no longer at the top of my game.  In fact, I am relatively certain that my game peaked somewhere in my forties, or perhaps early fifties. And I strongly suspect that as far as aging and the decline of mental acuity and general health go, I am basically similar to most other elderly individuals.

That's right, I said "elderly."  Seventy-five is elderly, and so is 76, and so is eighty.  When one is elderly their bones are more brittle and tend to break more easily.  (I am currently recovering from my second broken arm in the last three years.)    Also, the minds of old people are more apt to wander - sometimes to galaxies far, far away.  An elderly person can be in seemingly perfect health one evening, and wake up the next morning seriously impaired, physically or mentally.  Sudden onslaughts of medical problems occur all. the time, and they are usually just regarded as circumstances of "life" and not that surprising.  Just wheel Grandpa into the Home and life goes on.

But when those standard medical setbacks occur and the victims are individuals who have clung to positions of power in our society, their maladies can become society's maladies.  Leaders who cling to power for reasons of ego and vanity place those who are being led at unnecessary risk.

Not to speak ill of the dead, and I, for one certainly loved Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, but her decision not to leave the Court in a timely manner contributed to the rise of the fascist panel that controls the Judiciary Branch of our government today. And now Senator Dianne Feinstein of California, who will be ninety in less than two months and is obviously suffering impairments related to age, has been off of work for a couple of months due to a case of shingles, and her absence is stalling a Democratic President's ability to get literate and competent federal judges appointed to the bench.

It almost seems like age and ego increase in tandem.

But my intent today is to talk about the presidency, and in particular, to discuss why Donald Trump is too old to serve another term in the White House.  Trump will be 77 in less than two months.  If he were to slop into a second term in 2024, he would be 78 at the time of his election and inauguration - and, if he could control his morbid obesity and any other related health issues for four more years, he would leave office at the age of eighty-two.  Trump, like myself and everyone else in their seventies and eighties, has not been at the top of his game for at least a quarter-of-a-century, and he will not become smarter, more mentally alert, healthier, or even more humane if the laurel wreath of power is once again placed atop his highly-lacquered and combed-over head.

Let's run the numbers and get some historical perspective on age and the presidency:

George Washington was our first President.  He took office on April 30th, 1789, at the age of fifty-seven.  As of today, 45 individuals have served as President of the United States (counting Grover Cleveland only one time).  Of those,  11 assumed the office while in their 40's, 22 assumed the office while in their 50's, 10 assumed the office while in their 60's, and only two - the most recent two - took office in their 70's.    (To be absolutely fair, Ronald Reagan was just 17 days shy of his 70th birthday when he was inaugurated.)

Clearly, elderly people serving as President of the United States is a recent phenomenon.

Another way of looking at age as a factor in the presidency is through measures of central tendency.  US Presidents on the day they first assumed the office have ranged in age from 42 to 78, with the mean (average) age being just over 55 years.   The median age, or the central age if they were all listed in a line from oldest to youngest, would also be 55 years, and the mode, or most common age in the range, would be 51 and 54, with five hits each.   The two in their 70's would be obvious outliers.

In an attempt to tie age to effectiveness, I asked ChatGPT to list the five best US Presidents.  After a disclaimer about not possessing any personal opinions or biases,  the Artificial Intelligence (AI) chatbot said that based on various factors such as their achievements, leadership skills, and impact on the nation, the following are "widely regarded as among the best":  (I added their ages at assuming office following each name in parentheses.)

George Washington        (57)

Abraham Lincoln           (52)              

Franklin D. Roosevelt    (51)

Theodore Roosevelt        (42)

Thomas Jefferson            (57)

Then I asked ChatGPT to list the five worst US Presidents.  Again there was a disclaimer about the AI service not having personal opinions or biases, and then it provided a list of five who are "widely regarded as being among the worst based on various factors such as their failures, controversies, and negative impact on the nation.  They were:

James Buchanan        (65)

Andrew Johnson        (56)

Richard Nixon            (56)

Warren G. Harding    (55)

Franklin Pierce            (48)

Although I am no longer competent to perform statistical analyses (that ability has faded with advanced age), I did find it somewhat supportive that the group of "best" Presidents averaged over four years younger than the group of "worst" Presidents (51.8 years vs 56 years).

There are several reasons why Donald John Trump should never again reside at the White House, some of which are being litigated as I type, but certainly his advanced age is reason enough by itself.   Donald Trump is too damned old to be President, and it goes without saying that anyone who is older than him is also too old to be burdened with the responsibilities of running a nation.

Park those egos and go play golf - for your own health as well as for the health of the nation!

More Green Please!

 

by Pa Rock

Farmer in Spring

Every year I say that I will do less in the yard because taking care of my very big yard wears me down. I tell myself that I will mow less,  not put out so many flowers so that I will not have to carry so much water during the dog days of August, and add no permanent plants to the landscape.  But then as spring arrives with its warm breezes and chirpy birds, I crank up the lawnmower, begin looking for the rake and shovel - and soon I am right back at it.

This past Sunday I mowed for the second time this season.  It was somewhat chilly, but still I had a good mow.  Even with a breakdown that lasted ten minutes or so (I hit a  really big rock that stopped the mower, and it took a few minutes to get it up and running again), I still managed to knock almost an hour off of the mowing time of the first mow of the season fifteen days prior.  The first is always the hardest because there is so much to pick up or grind up along the way, but by the second mowing most of the obstacles that have accumulated over the winter are gone.

While I did not deliberately go out looking for any new permanent plants to add to the yard, I came across one anyway.  A week or so ago I was at the local grocery and just strolled by the plant section in the parking lot.  I wasn't looking to buy anything - just being nosey - but of course I found a Bartlett Pear tree that was tall and healthy and literally reached out begging me to take it home.

But I resisted.

Yesterday morning I was back at the same store and, just out of curiosity, looked to see if "my" pear tree was still there - and it was - a sure sign that destiny was at play.  That afternoon I returned with my son and the family pickup truck and took "our" tree home where Nick managed to get it in the ground as the day was waning.  Today that fine young pear tree sits outside of the window where I type each day, and in a few years, though probably not during my tenure at the window, it will be dropping its beautiful fruit on the ground and attracting all manner of squirrels, bees, and ants!   And the next owner of Rock's Roost will have me to thank for the mess in his yard!

I have one full-grown pear tree in the back yard that I suspect is also a Bartlett.  The pears are delicious, though I seldom manage to get any of them.  The deer gather around the tree before the pears are anywhere near ripe, and they literally stand on their back feet reaching for the limbs in order to pick and eat the delicious fruits.  Some of the deer also butt their heads against the pear tree's trunk in order to shake the young pears loose from their branches.

I doubt the deer will be forward enough to attack a pear tree that its right in front of my house, but during a prolonged drought when food is scarce, who knows?

(Last year I added three beautiful rose bushes to the landscape, and they all were magnificent the entire summer - and they are coming back nicely this year, too.  A few years before that I brought in several young dogwoods, and they are currently in full bloom.  Other additions over the years include several more roses, a fig bush, and a holly bush that is slowly transforming into a tree.  I am also nurturing a few volunteer paw-paw saplings that will expand that little grove as well - and I have three nice young sassafras trees that I have raised from volunteer saplings.)

Now that I have gone back to mowing just as much as I did last year, and now that I brought in a new pear tree, it is probably inevitable that I will be hitting the local nursery in the next few days and dragging home some potted plants as well.  Maintaining a nice yard an addiction, one that I seem helpless to defeat!

Happy spring!

Elon Trashes the Heavens to Make a Buck

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

Elon Musk, the rich man currently responsible for the on-going destruction of Twitter and Tesla, has now also turned his megalomaniac attention to destroying the environment.  Last week another of Musk's enterprises, SpaceX, tried to launch the largest rocket ever manufactured on Earth into space from a launch site along the Texas Gulf Coast.  The chances of the rocket launching successfully were slim to begin with, and Musk had posted an alert on Twitter before the flight saying that the large rocket designed to carry the Starship Spacecraft  beyond the Earth's atmosphere was powered by thirty-three engines and was the equivalent of a "box of grenades" - and was not likely to reach orbit on the initial launch try, but instead might even explode.

Musk and his people also told the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) and other agencies that if something did happen - such as an explosion - they expected that debris would be contained in a 700-acre area around the launch site.

And then it blew up, of course it did.  

Not only did the rocket and space craft blow up shortly after launch, it destroyed the launch facility sending chunks of concrete flying in all directions and blasting a crater in the ground.    Windows were broken and buildings sustained damage in a town six miles away.  Sand and an ash-like particulate matter rained down from the sky and spread over a much larger area than SpaceX had publicly anticipated,  the noise from the explosion was prolonged and horrendous, and the well-being of area residents and even wildlife suddenly became a primary concern.  (One very rare species of sea turtle nests on beaches close to the launch site.)

A few days before all of that horror was released in the skies over Texas, SpaceX fouled some more of the atmosphere around the planet that is the home for all of humanity.   A "spiral" resembling another universe was seen in the northern lights high above Anchorage, Alaska.  And while the sudden appearance of a mystery spiral in the night sky spawned romantic speculation about the mysteries of the universe,  the romanticism quickly faded when it was learned that the apparition in the heavens was actually just the result of an excess fuel dump by a SpaceX rocket that had been launched from California a few hours earlier.

Get over it you Earth-bound weaklings!  He is the great and powerful Elon and he can blow up and dump whatever He damn well pleases wherever He damn well pleases -  and you and your damn turtles can suck it up and like it - or not - because Elon doesn't care!  While you are scurrying about trying to find clean air to breath or safe water to drink, Elon is lunching with other rich guys and chattering about the evils of government overreach and strategies for securing government money to help finance their next ventures that will make them even  richer and the rest of us less safe.

With great wealth comes great power and great access  - and apparently not one damned iota of responsibility!

Bring Me Your Empties!

 

by Pa Rock

Former Beer Recycler

Sometime last winter a party animal in Germany who has since chosen to remain anonymous placed an order with a North American brewer for 2,352 cans of Miller High Life Beer, a product which bills itself, on each individual container, as "The Champagne of Beers."  Unfortunately for the buyer, his order was seized at the Port of Antwerp by authorities from the European Union because of its use of the word "champagne" which is a protected designation in Europe that can refer only to the bubbly wine that is produced in the "Champagne" region of France.  The buyer, who did not get his beer back, apparently did not protest the decision and action of the section of the European government whose mission was to protect the champagne-drinking public from consuming a counterfeit substitute for the beverage.

The beer, which was seized in Belgium, was ultimately destined for Germany.  Somehow importing beer into the world's premier beer-producing country seems a bit like carrying coals to Newcastle - but to each his own.  (Miller Brewing Company was founded by Frederick Miller, a German immigrant to the United States, in the 1850s.)

Miller Brewing Company, which is now owned by Molson Coors Beverage Company, has been using the slogan "The Champagne of Beers" on its "Miller High Life" brand for 120 years.

I find it mildly disturbing that 196 twelve-packs (or 98 twenty-four-can cases) of perfectly good beer had to be destroyed to assuage the feelings of French grape-growers.  Surely there are hospitals which could have used that beer, or senior citizen gulags, or even orphanages!   Couldn't the scouts have gone door-to-door selling beer by the can in order to fund their upcoming summer campouts and jamborees?

Such a waste!

It was not exactly clear how the beer was destroyed, if indeed it was.  The Belgian Customs Authority said that the destruction of the cans was carried out with "the utmost respect for environmental concerns by ensuring that the entire batch, both contents and container, was recycled in an environmentally responsible manner."  

The cans were crushed and recycled, but just what is the "most environmentally responsible manner" for recycling beer?  Was there a party at the Port of Antwerp?  Enquiring minds want to know!

Monday's Poetry: "Our Reality"

 

by Pa Rock

Poetry Appreciator

I came across the following short poem buried in one of several news sites that flow into my email account each day.  It appeared to have originally been posted as a "tweet," and the the attribution was to a person calling herself "JoJo from Jerz."  The poem, as presented at that news site, had no title, so I created one based on what I regarded as one of its best and most revealing lines.

In this very brief piece the poet does a stunning job of describing the havoc that our out-of-control gun culture has brought to the streets of America and to the lives of the people who struggle to survive in the madness.   As you will note, her chronicle of the outrages are up-to-the-minute, and this effort was undoubtedly "triggered" by the recent spate of "stand your ground" shootings which appear to be rooted in racism.

Damn all of the politicians in the United States who willfully turn their their backs on this carnage out of fear of the gun lobby, as well as those who kiss up to the blood-soaked industry for campaign cash!  This is what you have wrought, this is "our reality."

"Our Reality"

by JoJo from Jerz

 

We can’t go to the bank.

Can’t go to work, to the grocery store, to the

airport, to our places of worship, to a farmer’s

market, a concert, a nightclub, a dance hall, a

movie or a doctor’s office.

Our kids can’t go to a parade, the mall or to

school.

You can’t ring the wrong doorbell, pull down the 

wrong driveway, or accidentally hop in the wrong

car, without fear of being shot.

Shot and killed.

In a nation with more guns than people, this has

become our reality.

But it is not normal.

And it sure as shit is not ok.

Orval Faubus, Another Perspective

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

When it comes to securing a spot in our national history, for positive achievements or otherwise, serving as the governor of Arkansas is not generally regarded as much of a launch pad.  But two past governors of the "natural state" did manage to parlay their time in the Arkansas governor's mansion into positions of national recognition and historical relevance.  One, of course, was Bill Clinton, who went on to serve two terms as President of the United States after his time as the chief executive of Arkansas.  But a couple of decades before Clinton became governor, there was another Arkansas politician who, as governor, also achieved a great deal of notoriety across the United States.  That politician was Orval Faubus.

Even though only twelve years separated their tenures as governor of Arkansas, the two men could not have been more different. The world changed decisively between the time Faubus left the governorship in1967 and when Bill Clinton assumed in it 1979.  Faubus, an old-line segregationist, fought valiantly to  maintain the color barriers that had been so carefully crafted during a century of Jim Crow legislation and racially-inspired terrorism against people of color, and by the time Clinton came into office as governor, the Civil Rights movement in America had highlighted and begun to slowly remove many of those barriers that had been more than a century in the making.

Both men were Democrats, but their political philosophies were starkly different from one another.  The times had changed drastically, and so had the political parties.  In less than twenty years, the Democrats had become the proponents of an "inclusive" society, and Lincoln's Republican Party had been cruelly highjacked into the old Confederate cause of trying to keep black people in "their place."  Thank you, Richard Nixon.

Faubus served as a Democratic governor of Arkansas when the old model of politics was still in operation, then the world shifted dramatically and Bill Clinton emerged just a few years later to try and lead Arkansas in a significantly different direction - also as a Democrat.

But all of that has just been background noise.  My purpose in today's blog posting is to  show a more human side to Orval Faubus, a politician who earned extensive notoriety and public scorn when he mobilized the Arkansas National Guard in 1957 in a vain attempt to keep nine black youngsters from enrolling in the all-white Central High School of Little Rock, Arkansas.

My grandfather, Dan Sreaves, was born in Huntsville, Madison County, Arkansas, in 1888, just a few miles from where Orval Faubus would be born in Combs, Madison County, just twenty-two years later.   As a result of having roots there, I travelled to Madison County a couple of years ago to do some on-the-ground genealogy research.  While in Huntsville, I stayed at the Faubus Motel, the only suitable hostelry that I came across - and it was very nice.  I did a lot a research in the library of the local genealogical society, and before I left town I subscribed to that society's quarterly newsletter, an exceptionally good publication entitled "Madison County Musings."

This week the Spring 2023 edition of that newsletter arrived in my mailbox, and while it did not contain anything of relevance to my family research (unlike the previous edition which had referenced a couple of my ancestors), this edition did contain a nice memorial to Orval Faubus that had been written by his younger sister, Bonnie Lou (Faubus) Salcido.  In an effort to provide readers of this blog with some perspective on a historical figure that they would be unlikely to acquire anywhere else, I thought I would highlight a few facts about the life of the former Arkansas governor that have been preserved by his sister.

Here goes:

Orval Faubus was the oldest of seven children born to John Samuel Faubus (age 22) and Addie Joslin Faubus (age 17).  The father made a living for the family by cutting timber and making cross ties for the railroad companies - an occupation which was very common throughout the Ozarks at that time.  The family also ran a small subsistence farm which produced much of their groceries and feed for the livestock.

The little sister describes Orval Faubus in almost Lincolnesque terms, talking about his love of reading, and saying that he would skip neighborhood parties in order to stay at home and read.  She said that he graduated from eighth grade at Combs with "the highest grade ever made in Madison County."  He passed the state teacher's exam at age eighteen and began teaching in the county's one-room schools where her eventually became the teacher for three of his younger siblings.  When the children's mother passed away in 1936, it was the oldest sibling, Orval, who stepped in and helped to finish raising the younger ones.

Young Orval Faubus entered politics during the Great Depression and he was serving as the county clerk and recorder when the United States entered World War II.  He resigned his political office and joined the US Army where he served with the Intelligence department of the 35th Infantry Division in Europe under General Patton.   Faubus entered the army as a private and emerged as a Major a few years later.  During his time in the Army he won the Broze Star with five campaign stars.

After leaving the army Orval Faubus returned to Madison County where he served as postmaster in Huntsville and later bought the "Madison County Record," the county's only newspaper.  After that he jumped into state politics and saw service as the state highway commissioner and later was administrative assistant to Governor Sid McMath. He became governor in 1955, just ten short years after leaving the army.

Bonnie Lou Salcido describes her brother as "a kind man, and fair, with a great deal of charisma" and also said that he was a man with "humor, humility, and dignity."  She quotes his tomestone epitaph as reading:

"When I come to this, my last earthly resting place, may it be said of me, in the rise of obscurity, he served his country and his people well, he forsook not his own kind, the common people, he dealt fairly with all men, his promises were kept, his debts were paid."

Orval Faubus seems to have seen his own life in a light of fair and just treatment toward his "own kind" (the common people), even if others, with very good reason, did not.

There Was No Party at the Sheriff's Office

 

by Pa Rock

Friend of Pharmacies

The older I get, the more pills I take - and invariably as things change over time, I wind up with leftovers.  So earlier this week when I learned that Saturday would be "National Prescription Drug Take Back Day," an opportunity for people to safely get rid of their accumulations of unused meds, I decided  to round mine up and turn them in.  Yesterday I took about an hour going through the storage shed, medicine cabinets, and several other places where I have at times packed away unused medications, and eventually came up with half-a-grocery-bag full of pill bottles.    This morning I took them to the local sheriff's office.

Most of what I had accumulated were older diabetes medicines that had been gradually become obsolete as my medical situation changed over the years - or as new and better medications had come on the market.  I found three or four bottles that I had picked up at the pharmacy of the Naval Hospital on Okinawa - twelve years ago!  I also came across some narcotic pain tables that were eight-years-old!

Clearly it was time to clean out the medicine cupboards in a safe and environmentally sound manner.

I'm not sure what I was expecting to encounter at the sheriff's office.  Perhaps some of my colorful neighbors would be sitting out front in the parking lot making last minute swaps before taking the ones they truly did not want inside.  Or at least a lot of commotion inside as deputies and trustys eagerly pawed through bags and boxes of pill bottles to learn about the types of things that the community had been "on."

But there were no long lines outside waiting to get in and dump their meds - and there was only one deputy in the lobby, and he was safely tucked behind heavy security glass.   I asked about the drug take back program, and he pointed to a red metal container behind me that resembled a mail collection box. In fact, it had a pull-down deposit slot, like a mail box, and I spent several minutes  unloading my bag into the slot, three or four bottles at a time.

I had anticipated at least a small measure of entertainment or excitement associated with the process of surrendering drugs at a law enforcement facility, but it turned out to be a very staid and stolid affair. 

Tomorrow I will mow - the thrills just keep coming!

Goofy Unchained!

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

The political bosses of the national Republican Party stridently decry the evils of "woke" (educated) individuals and "cancel culture" which they see as efforts by other people to control the very few things in life that give them (Republicans) pleasure.  Oddly though, when just about any movement to radically alter culture in America surfaces, it is almost always a bitter minority of conservative Republicans who are behind it.

It has been Republicans who are promoting limits on what students can study, or even discuss, in public schools.  It has been Republicans who threaten funding to public libraries because they don't like other people having the option to check out books that they (Republicans) don't want them reading.  It has been Republicans who vociferously oppose other people having the autonomy to make their own health care decisions.  And it has been Republicans who, while blathering on about "backing the blue," continue to push policies and laws that pump more guns onto the streets and bring greater levels of danger to America's law enforcement officers.

Now, however, some Republican politicians are casting such wide nets in their efforts to control the rest of society, that they are proving to be more of an embarrassment than the party can endure.  This is true in Florida where the state's autocratic governor, Ron DeSantis, has somehow allowed his war on the civil rights of the LGBTQ community to bring him into conflict with the state's premier tourist attraction, Disney World, as well.

Last year DeSantis unbelievably retaliated against Disney World's long-standing support of gay rights and it outspokenness against his legislation to ban discussions of gender in public schools ("don't say gay"), by getting the state legislature to revoke its historic charter that allowed "The Magic Kingdom" to operate essentially free of state controls.  Since that time the state and Disney have been involved in a series of political skirmishes, some of which the state has lost, and all of which have made it look as though the state of Florida and its governor have something against good clean American entertainment and family fun.

And that is not a good look for the Republican Party.

Last week DeSantis made a remark within earshot of the press in which he suggested the possibility of Florida erecting a state prison next door to the popular theme park.  That petty and mean-spirited little comment by a petty and mean-spirited little man may have finally been more than other cancel warriors of the national Republican Party were willing to accept.  Republican donors appear to suddenly be rethinking their support for DeSantis, and the movement toward him (and away from Trump) by national politicians seems to be cooling.   Several members of the Florida congressional delegation have even endorsed Trump over DeSantis.

You had best cool your jet skis, Ron.  Sea levels are already rising, and it probably would not take much more from you to convince Goofy and the gang to pack up and move somewhere else.  They aren't your property - or your prisoners - regardless of how you transform the neighborhood.

Another All-American, Non-Standard Family

 

by Pa Rock

Bird Man

Murphy is a male bald eagle who has been a resident of the World Bird Sanctuary in Valley Park, Missouri, for most of his thirty-one years.  He suffered serious injuries to one of his wings and legs as a youngster, and consequently does not fly.  Last month Murphy built himself a nest on the ground and began sitting on it.  Soon employees at the bird sanctuary became aware that while sitting on his new nest, Murphy was incubating a rock.  He was trying to become a parent!

There are four other bald eagles at the sanctuary where Murphy lives, and as each of them tried to investigate his new situation and get a look at his nest, he would charge at them screaming, and drive the nosey intruders away.  Murphy was very protective of his "egg."

The staff was concerned about Murphy and his "mission impossible."  What would eventually become of the expectant dad when the "egg" never hatched?  Good fortune soon intervened, however, when the sanctuary staff learned of a 14-day-old orphaned eaglet that had blown down out of a tree and was in need of a foster placement. They were able to acquire the fuzzy baby and bring him to Valley Park where he was quickly swapped for Murphy's rock egg.

Staff carefully monitored the father and child for several days until it became obvious that they were bonding.  Park employees would provide Murphy with food for his baby, and he would give it to the little one - sometimes even showing his ward to eat it.  

The national press has been covering the story, and a strong fanbase is developing.  People are donating to the sanctuary with gifts specifically to help that new eagle family unit.  There is an effort underway to get a live feed of the father and child's interactions available on the internet, though that has yet to happen.  And, there is talk among the staff at the sanctuary of raising some additional funds by auctioning off the rock egg that Murphy originally tried to hatch - though that is an idea that may not fly, especially if Murphy gets wind of it!

Congratulations to another all-American, non-standard family whose story may not be appropriate for school children in Florida or Texas!

Kentucky Bank Shooter's Weapon Could Soon be Back on the Streets

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

On Monday, April 10th, Connor Sturgeon, an employee of the Old National Bank in Louisville, Kentucky, walked into his place of employment bearing a loaded AR-15 assault-style rifle which he had legally purchased less than a week before.   Sturgeon opened fire in one of the bank's boardrooms where a meeting of bank officers and employees was being held.  In less than a minute the shooter killed five people (ages 40 to 64) who were meeting in that room, and he wounded five others - including two police officers who were responding to the mass shooting.

The young killer's gun was confiscated after he was shot dead by police.

The following day Louisville Mayor Craig Greenberg told the press and his incredulous city that under current Kentucky state law he would have to turn the assault-style weapon over to the state police who would, in turn, auction it off.  Greenberg said that he was forbidden by law from ensuring that the weapon was destroyed, and that the most he could do to interfere with its potential to kill again would be to remove the firing pins, something which could be quickly remedied.

It is unclear whether the Kentucky legislature was trying to raise funds for the state with the passage of this law, or if it was instead focused on the "right "of the gun to exist.   Either way, it's a senseless law that will prolong the emotional suffering of those who were wounded in the attack, their families and the families of those who died that day, and the good citizens of Louisville, the state of Kentucky, and the nation who were horrified by the actions of the disgruntled bank employee and his gun.

Now that the notorious murder weapon will be spared from destruction, it could conceivably wind up being used in another mass murder.  That would, of course, increase its value as a collectible the next time it is auctioned.

Litterbugging with Panache

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

It seems like I spend a good deal of time walking across my front yard and picking up the refuse that our trashy local drivers toss out of their vehicle windows, so I am not favorably disposed to litterbugs, but there could be exceptions.  Please read on:

US Interstate 5 is not just some nondescript roadway like the one I live on, it is the major route along the West Coast of the United States running from the US-Mexican border to the US-Canadian border.  The big, brawny, bustling interstate connects San Diego, Los Angeles, Portland (Oregon), and Seattle.  It is a very busy damned highway!
 
But last Tuesday evening traffic on Interstate 5 came to a screeching stop near Eugene, Oregon, when a local resident who was traveling on the busy road began throwing fistfuls of money out of his car window – hundreds and hundreds of hundred dollar bills!  The litterbug and philanthropist driver estimated that he tossed around $200.000 into the wind - that would be 2,000 separate bills drifting in the breeze and landing all around that stretch of the interstate!
 
Some people who were driving by at the time were delighted with their sudden good fortune as they parked on both sides of the busy interstate and began chasing the flying currency.,  Others, however, such as the police and the man’s family, were not so pleased.  The police were obviously concerned for the safety of the fortune chasers as well of those who were trying to drive through the melee, and the man’s family said that they needed the money and asked people who found it to please return to the police.
 
The odd benefactor was identified as Colin Davis McCarthy of Eugene.  The money was in a bank account belonging to him and his family, and he had properly withdrawn it from the bank and had “legal access” to the cash.  He told police that his intent was to “gift” people with the money.  They asked him to stop, citing the significant road hazard that he had created, and he agreed to do so.
 
Currently the state of Oregon has no plans to charge Mr. McCarthy with a crime.  Police went out the following morning and said they could find no sign of any remaining cash along the roadway – and they urged people to not stop along the highway and search for any bills that might have been overlooked.
 
The good news out of Oregon is that apparently no one was hurt in the mad dash for cash.
 
I am reminded of the episode of The Beverly Hillbillies where Granny goes to Mr. Drysdale’s bank and withdraws a couple of bushel baskets of Jed’s money and then rides the elevator up to the top of the building and begins throwing the currency into the wind where it drifts down onto the busy streets and sidewalks of Los Angeles.  The traffic snarled as happy Los Angelenos  ran through the streets trying to catch the cash!
 
Why can’t I ever come across litterbugs like that?  The one’s who cruise my country lane only seem to enjoy tossing out plastic Walmart bags (which float up and get caught in the high tree branches where they flap in the breeze for years), fast food packaging, empty alcohol containers, and full diapers!

Sometime this July I will be driving Interstate 5 from Portland to Salem, Oregon, and, as I drive, I will be very vigilant as I scan the roadway looking for any of Mr. McCarthy's litter that might have found its way north.  I am a decent sort, and if I should come across a bill or two, I would give them back to the family.

That is where the press needs to do a follow-up.  How much of the money was returned to the family?  Enquiring minds want to know!

Monday's Poetry: "The Real Life"

by Pa Rock

Poetry Appreciator

Today's posting will be my final reflection on John Mellencamp's current nationwide tour which I had to good fortune to see in Kansas City two weeks ago.  (I promise!). During Mellencamp's quiet interlude in the early portion of the show, he talked about his friendship with Academy Award-winning actress, Joanne Woodward, the widow of the late, fellow acting legend Paul Newman.   Mellencamp related that several years ago he had suggested to Ms. Woodward that he would like to record her reciting the lyrics to some of his songs as acting monologues.   The actress chose a couple from the singer / songwriter's extensive catalogue  and committed them to recording tape.

Mellencamp chose one of those recordings for use on the tour, and he played it with accompaniment from two of the members of his band.   The song / monologue that Mellencamp chose to share was "The Real Life," and the rich voice of Joanne Woodward carried it with the force of an ocean swell to every nook, cranny, and corner of the elegant Midland Theatre.  It was a wonderful counterpoint to the loud and raucous show.

The Real Life

by John Mellencamp

Suzanne divorced her husband
She got the keys to the car and the home
But her friends were really his friends
No one stops by to see her much anymore
So one night she goes back down to the old haunts
That once upon a time were her own
She didn't know nobody out there no more
And the whole experience just made her feel so old
She says
 
I want to live the real life
I want to live my life close to the bone
Just because I'm middle-aged that don't mean
I want to sit around my house and watch T.V
I want the real life
I want to live the real life
 
Jackson Jackson was a good kid
He had four years of college and a bachelor's degree
Started workin' when he was 21
Got fed up and quit when he was 43
He said, "My whole life
I've done what I'm supposed to do
Now I'd like to maybe do something for myself
And just as soon as I figure out what that is
You can bet your life I'm gonna give it hell"
He says
 
I want to live the real life
I want to live my life close to the bone
Just because I'm middle-aged that don't mean
I want to sit around this house and watch T.V
I want the real life
I want to live the real life
 
I guess it don't matter how old you are
Or how old one lives to be
I guess it boils down to what we did with our lives
And how we deal with our own destinies
But something happens when you reach a certain age
Particularly to those ones that are young at heart
It's a lonely proposition when you realize
That's there's less days in front of the horse
Than riding in the back of this cart
I say
 
I want to live the real life
I want to live my life close to the bone
Just because I'm middle-aged that don't mean
I want to sit around this house and watch T.V
I want the real life
 
I want to live the real life
I want to live my life close to the bone
I want to live the real life
I want to sit around my house and watch T.V
I want the real life
I want to live the real life
I want the real life
 
I want to live the real life
I want to live my life close to the bone
I want to live the real life
I want to to live my life close to the bone

Five Hundred Days in a Cave!

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

Spanish mountaineer and extreme athlete Beatriz Flamini was forty-eight-years-old when she entered the cave in Granada, Spain, on November 21, 2021, and she was fifty when she emerged last Friday, five hundred days later.  During that nearly year-and-a-half Ms. Flamini was monitored by a team of scientists, medical experts, and caving professionals who remained above ground, but she, herself, had no contact with anyone.  She was completely cut off from the rest of the world.

While Ms. Fanini was underground the world went on.   Russia invaded Ukraine, Queen Elizabeth of Great Britain became the only British monarch in history to hold the throne for seventy years - and then she died, abortion in the US lost its status as a constitutional "right," Will Smith slapped Chris Rock on national television, and Donald Trump was indicted on a couple of dozen felony charges in the state of New York.

She also celebrated two birthdays while underground, or would have if she had not lost track of time somewhere around day number sixty-five.  Ms. Flamini was asleep when her team came to get her last Friday and felt as though they must have been early because she did not think that the full five hundred days had passed.

But they had.

During those long days and nights underground - when it always seemed to be about 4:00 a.m. to her - the mountaineer/spelunker stayed busy knitting wool hats, reading sixty books, exercising, drawing, filming and taking photographs (for an upcoming documentary), and consuming one thousand liters of water.  She did not have water for bathing and was headed for the showers when she finally left the cave last week.

But the need for a shower did not dampen her enthusiasm over the project which Ms. Flamini had just completed.  The extreme athlete  described the overall experience as "excellent" and  "unbeatable."  She was exhibiting balance issues as she emerged and was being physically supported by members of her team.  She did talk about occasional auditory hallucinations in which her mind reacted to the never-ending silence by "making up" noises.   (In addition to not speaking with anyone above ground for the duration, Ms. Flamini also kept all of her own conversations with herself on silent mode out of respect for the cave.)

The cave dweller reported that she had suffered an intense craving for roasted chicken with potatoes at one point, and that she also had a vision of that meal.

On the negative side, she described one of the worst parts of the experience as having to deal with an invasion of flies which laid their eggs in the cave and then the larvae hatched while she was underground.  The onslaught of flies and their offspring clearly caused their roommate, Ms. Flamini,  much consternation.

Now that the adventure (or ordeal) is over, Beatriz Flamini will spend time being examined by doctors, scientists, and psychologists who are looking into the effects that long term isolation has on the brain and body, as well as the effects that a prolonged absence of natural light has on circadian rhythms.

All of that, and she still has a lot to catch up on!

An Eclipse Celebration Planned in the Ozarks

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

West Plains, a small city in southern Missouri with a population of roughly 12,000 hearty souls, is one of the more progressive enclaves in the Ozarks.    True, the people here like their guns, go to church on Sundays, tend to only elect Republicans to office - and would certainly take offense at being referred to as "progressive" or "woke," but many are surprisingly enlightened nonetheless.

A few years ago West Plains partnered with Evergy Corporation out of Kansas City and created a forty-acre solar farm which is located just down the road from my house, a project that helps to provide the city's electric customers with their power.   Over the past couple of years there has been a lot of buzz in the city government promoting the expansion of internet services across the community, and those services are being steadily enhanced.    The schools, a dependable measure of a community's commitment to the future, are above average for the area as well as statewide, and the local parks are well maintained and undergo regular improvements.

Clearly, regardless of how the local citizens choose to think of themselves politically, at their core they have a very progressive nature.

A few years ago I let my local newspaper subscription expire - no excuses - just something that happened which I failed to get corrected a long time.   Last week I went into town and fixed that lingering oversight.  I figured that by subscribing to our five-day-a-week "daily" I could better monitor what was going on around me.

And I was right!

The second issue that arrived in my mailbox had a fascinating story on the front page about a project for my town which has been being developed by a task force for the past two years - and I had no idea of its existence.

A total eclipse of the sun will occur in this area on April 8, 2024, something that is exceedingly rare and will not happen again until the year 2178.  I had heard about the eclipse, but what I had not heard until I saw it on the front page of our local newspaper, "The West Plains Quill," was that the city is planning a festival to to commemorate the event - and a task force was created in 2021 to plan the four-day celebration.

(The celebration of an event rooted in nature almost sounds Celtic, perhaps even something that a delegation of visiting Druids would enjoy - as long as none of them claim to be "woke!")

Interestingly, our state representative (a Republican, of course), had his weekly column from Jefferson City on the inside of that same edition of the newspaper, and he used that forum to pat himself on the back for the area's advancement in solar energy, expansion of wifi and internet services, and the eclipse festival and recognition in West Plains.  "Progressive" or not, these activities are clearly popular with voters, and smart politicians are in there grabbing credit for these programs as fast as they can.

But, politicians aside, I am proud of my community - and on April 8, 2024, I will be in town among my friends and neighbors standing in total darkness for more than three minutes while appreciating the wonders and awesome power of nature.  Then I will go home and use partially solar-generated electricity and government-subsidized wifi to blog about it!

Triggerfest 2023

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist 

More that 70,000 members of the National Rifle Association (NRA), America's largest lobbying organization for gun manufacturers, are expected to descend on Indianapolis today for the group's annual "meeting."  The three-day event will draw an unhealthy mix of merchants of death, right-wing extremist politicians, zealots who freely conflate religion and politics, and all manner of individuals hoping to make a quick buck off of gun-fondlers, religious and political extremists, and any other gullible types with money two burn.

This orgy of guns and gun "rights" last came to Indy in 2019.

There will be exhibit halls stacked to the rafters with the stuff of wet dreams for Nazis, racists, homophobes, potential school shooters, those who view the US Government as their personal enemy, and all of the others who staunchly defend freedom in the comfort and security of their parents' basements.

One of highlights of any NRA get-together of any appreciable size is the certain emergence of the lowest strata of Republican presidential hopefuls.  Trump will be there putting on the grift, and Mike Pence will also address the group where he will undoubtedly give his well-thumped Bible a few extra whacks as he labors to convince the crowd that even though he is morally rigid and frigid, he is also devoted to the right of everyone, from imbeciles to criminals, to own as many rapid-fire guns with excessively large magazines as they can reasonably stockpile and defend.

And certainly, with so many rubes in town looking for a good time, hookers will be arriving by the busload.  It should be a blast of a weekend for midwestern working girls, and with so many repressed evangelical Republican men in town, the working boys should do quite well also.

Praise Jesus and pass the ammunition!

A Chatbot Explains 'the Singularity'

 

by Pa Rock

Futurist

A couple of times over the past ten years or so I have used this space to address what either may be a looming crisis of gargantuan proportions or one of the key advancements in technology that winds up saving mankind from itself.  The event, expected by some to occur around the year 2044, is that point in time when computers will be so advanced that they will be able to maintain and operate themselves with very little (if any) human interaction.  It is referred to in scientific  and science fiction literature as "the singularity." My knowledge of that topic is admittedly superficial.

A few weeks ago I again used this space to address the broad subject of computer advancement, this time with a discussion about my first encounter with Artificial Intelligence (AI).  I had just been introduced to the program called ChatGPT which is currently among the best "chatbots" on the market.  ChatGPT can pull up specific information on almost any topic instantaneously, and it can also explain difficult concepts in simple terms and in a conversational manner - again, instantaneously.  It even has the ability to be highly creative, for instance you can provide it with a title and then ask it to create a story outline based on that title - or to write an essay on a particular topic, or to write a song or a poem in the manner of a particular individual.  Just ask, and it is immediately in front of you!

So, since I have a very limited understanding of "the singularity" and a growing appreciation of "chatbots" like ChatGPT, I decided to use the latter to broaden my understanding of the former.  I asked ChatGPT to provide me with a basic explanation of "the singularity."  Here is the artificial intelligence explanation of the possible technological takeover of our planet:

"The singularity" is a term used to describe a hypothetical future event in which artificial intelligence (AI) surpasses human intelligence. This moment is also known as "technological singularity" because it marks a point of exponential technological progress beyond which it is difficult to predict or comprehend what will happen next.

At this point, AI would be able to improve itself at an unprecedented rate, and its intelligence would quickly surpass that of humans. This could lead to dramatic changes in society, the economy, and even the nature of humanity itself.

Some proponents of the singularity argue that it could lead to a utopian future where humans and AI work together to solve the world's biggest problems. However, others fear that it could lead to catastrophic consequences, such as AI becoming uncontrollable or even hostile to humans.

It is important to note that the singularity is still a hypothetical concept and there is no consensus among experts on when or if it will happen.

So sayeth the chatbot as it ponders its own future.

Suddenly the Wrong People are being Killed

 

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

Last spring a classroom of fourth-graders of Hispanic descent were gunned down so brutally and savagely in Uvalde, Texas, the only way some could be identified was through DNA samples.   The Republic of Texas responded by doing absolutely nothing:  Too bad, so sad, guns make people safer so get over it!  And that rush to inaction has pretty much been the NRA-driven political response to school shootings and mass killings for the past four decades.

But this past week there was an official government response to a school shooting in Tennessee that might be a harbinger of things to come.   

Yesterday Tennessee's Republican governor, Bill Lee, signed an executive order that strengthened the state's background check program for gun purchases, and Governor Lee encouraged his state lawmakers to pass a "red flag" law that would prohibit dangerous people from owning guns.  The governor's call to action comes after a deadly shooting at a private Christian school in Nashville last month in which three nine-year-olds and three adults were killed.  The resulting political maelstrom from that shooting also precipitated a crisis in the Tennessee state legislature in which three representatives led a demonstration for stronger gun laws inside of the Capitol building - and the two who were black wound up being expelled from the Tennessee House - bringing embarrassment to those remaining House members who had enough class to be embarrassed!

Governor Lee had been a friend of one of the three adults killed in that shooting, a woman who was working at the school as a substitute teacher that day and who was to have had dinner with the governor's wife the evening of the shooting.  This shooting took place in the rarified air of a private school, one focused on the teachings of Jesus, and one in which the state's governor had a connection.  It wasn't just a random school shooting of poor kids and teachers in a public school - it was personal.

The deadly Nashville shooting occurred on Monday, March 27.  The following Sunday, April 2, one of the hosts of this year's Country Music Awards in Nashville called out gun violence in America and dedicated that evening's show to the victims of the Covenant School shooting.  Pressure was clearly building on the governor and legislature to act.  The citizens of Tennessee, and even its stars, were not going to allow the continuation of business as usual.

This time it was different.  The wrong people were starting to get killed.

Two days ago a mass shooting occurred in a board room of a prominent bank in Louisville, Kentucky, a shooting where a disgruntled employee showed up with a semi-automatic rifle that he had just purchased a few days earlier and opened fire on a meeting of bank employees and executives.   One of the bank bosses who was killed that morning was a personal friend of Kentucky's governor, Andy Beshear, and was also a personal friend of Florida's US Senator Rick Scott.  

Again, the Louisville victims were not ordinary citizens - or children without political clout.  Clearly they were all somebody whose deaths could force an intransigent government to act - whether it wanted to or not.

There is probably a lot of angst at NRA headquarters of late as it's extremely well armed legions of death and "good guys with guns" begin messing about in areas where they shouldn't be messing.  Now that it is beginning to get personal for those with the power, maybe we will finally begin to see some commonsense gun reform prevail.

The price of inaction has suddenly gone up!

Gov. Abbott Prepares to Put a Convicted Killer Back on the Streets of Texas

by Pa Rock

Citizen Journalist

In July of 2020 Daniel Perry was an active-duty sergeant in the US Army who was living in Austin, Texas, and also working as an Uber driver.  On July 25 there was a "Black Lives Matter" protest occurring near the apartment where Perry was living.  According to the Austin American Statesman, that day, as Mr. Perry headed out to work, he posted on social media that he might "kill a few people on my way to work;  they are rioting outside of my apartment complex."

At some point as he was heading to work Mr. Perry drove his car up to a group of protesters and stopped, a move that some in the crowd apparently regarded as a provocation.  One of the participants in the demonstration, Garrett Foster, approached the car.  Foster, a former member of the US Air Force, had an AK-47 assault style rifle strapped to the front of his body.   Perry later claimed that Foster aimed the gun at him, though others contradicted him on that.  At that point, Perry apparently rolled down his car window and shot Foster, killing him.

Perry claimed that he felt threatened by  Foster and had shot him in self-defense, but murder charges were brought against Perry in Travis County (Austin), Texas, nevertheless, this spring.  Last week a jury of twelve individuals unanimously found Daniel Perry guilty of the murder of Garrett Foster, and he is due to be sentenced later this week.

Almost as soon as the verdict was read there was a conservative backlash. Texas has one of the most severe "stand your ground" laws in the country, and the people who vigorously support it are not necessarily enamored with the idea of social protesters standing their ground.  The chairman of the Texas Republican Party said the case should have never been brought to trial in the first place, and the governor of Texas, Republican Greg Abbott, promised that as soon as the Texas Board of Pardons and Paroles gets a request for a pardon of Perry to his desk, he will sign it.  Abbott then went on to criticize what he termed as "progressive" prosecutors and juries.

Kyle Rittenhouse, a fellow shooter of protestors, is a staunch defender of Daniel Perry and supports his pardon.

Abbott's political stunt will put a killer back on the streets of Texas, but it should also generate some inspiring footage for the governor's next campaign.  Law and order is fine in theory, but there are times when it just isn't practical.   Right, Greg?

Monday's Poetry: "The Eyes of Portland"

 

by Pa Rock

Poetry Appreciator

A couple of days ago I used this space to talk about watching John Mellencamp recently perform in Kansas City.   Much of the show was loud and raucous, but he did have a quiet interlude in which he shared several stories of a personal nature.  One of those stories was of sitting at a restaurant in Portland, Oregon, in front of a large window and watching a young homeless woman walking barefoot, at a fast pace, up and down the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.  The singer finally became so concerned watching her erratic behavior that he went outside to speak with her and see if he could be of any assistance.

Mellencamp approached the woman and asked her what was wrong.  She told him that she lived on the streets and that she wanted to go home.   After learning that she had grown up about 300 miles away, he offered to buy her dinner and provide her with a bus ticket home.  The woman told him that she could not go home because her parents did not want her.  He then asked if he could buy her a meal, and she replied by asking him if she would have to have sex with him in order to get the meal.  When he explained that there were no strings attached to his gift, he pulled some bills out of his pocket, and she grabbed them and hurried away, turning once to say that she couldn't believe she was getting a meal without having to have sex.

John Mellencamp wrote the following based on that experience as well as his observations of the many homeless who live on the streets of Portland.

The Eyes of Portland

by John Mellencamp

As I saw through the eyes of Portland one day

There were so many homeless

They'd all gone astray

They slept on the corner during the day

As not to be harmed when the sun went away

There were old ones and young ones

White ones and black

They were all shapes and sizes

With rags on their backs

So many people 

Mixed up in this stew

With no place to go 

And nothing to do

All of these homeless

Where do they come from

In this land of plenty 

Where nothing gets done

To help those who are empty

And unable to run

Your tears and prayers won't help the homeless

Some are mentally ill

Some are higher than kites

Selling their bodies 

As day turns to night

Where are their loved ones

Does anyone care

To be lost and alone

In the middle of nowhere

All of these homeless

Where do they come from

In this land of plenty

Where nothing gets done

To help those who are empty 

And unable to run

Your tears and prayers won't help the homeless

What will it take

For this country to see

For the grace of God go they

And not you and me

The fallen and forgotten

Who are down on their knees

Living here in the gutters

In this land of the free

All of these homeless

Where do they come from

In this land of plenty

Where nothing gets done

To help those who are empty 

And unable to run

Your tears and prayers won't help the homeless

Your tears and prayers won't help the homeless