Musings and Mirth
I couldn’t look away. I tried. I had to watch it all the way to the bitter end, when the crying of babies could be heard over Jim Jones‘ desperate droning, “come children, come children, sleep children, sleep.” How is it religion serves a good purpose again? Isn’t Jim Jones exactly what is wrong with our inclination to give over our own power to another? If anyone read this blog I know I would get ripped a new one for that comment, but since it just you and me and the quiet, no one will ever know.
Jim Jones: shorter, fatter than I’d thought. Jim Jones: a better version of him was played by Powers Booth. Jim Jones: just a desperate, power-hungry psychopath.
Nonetheless, the real story of Jonestown is only hard to deal with in those final moments, when he makes them all kill the babies and children first. He knows that no mother would let her baby die alone. Now, how’s that for cheery? Happy Easter and all that.
So, my 8 year-old, who loves horses, got to spend Spring break at horse camp. She loves nothing more than this camp, which I consider to be a bit over-priced for what it is, but I can imagine what it’s like for her: all horses, all the time. Paddock boots, riding pants, crops, gloves, the whole nine yards. She is a driven little thing, managing to be alternatively sweet and demanding at the same time. But unfortunately, she got a hard lesson in mean girl bitchiness. What is it about us girls that makes us act like hideous bitches? The girl was the daughter of two semi-famous TV stars and it was clear that this poor girl was the product of having been raised by nannies and assistants. Otherwise, why bother being so mean? Emma said, “everybody liked her – that’s what made it all worse.”
Myself, I had to practice deep breathing not to walk up to that pint sized creep and give her a piece of my mind. I told Emma she is on my list.
At least I think it’s great. Came in the mail today:
How are you and your family? I hope you are all fine. I am Barrister
Jean DANNY a solicitor at law. I am the personal attorney to Late Mr.
Raymond Stone, who used to work with Cotonou sea port Rebublic of Benin.
Here in after shall be referred to as my client. On the 21st of April
2003, my client and his wife were involved in a car accident. All
occupants of the vehicle unfortunately lost their lives.
Since then I have made several enquiries to their embassy to locate any
of my clients extended relatives this has also proved unsuccessful.
After these several unsuccessful attempts to locate any member of his
family hence I contacted you.
Oh, so it isn’t great news – it’s a tragedy. Where’s my checkbook?
Here is a photo gallery of various people and what they have for breakfast every day. Everyone always says breakfast is the most important meal of the day. In fact, it may be, but choking it down is one hell of a challenge when you’re trying to wake up. Emma likes to eat an egg in a hole in a piece of toast. I like to eat what i’m not supposed to eat. I really like a hard crusty roll with butter and honey on it. What I’m supposed to eat: whole grain cereal or bread. Blech. My breakfast, though, centers around coffee.
Yeah, it’s St. Pat’s. My friend Robert is Irish and he sent me this to celebrate (by the way, I’m not Irish) – it’s Van the Man!
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