16 Mar 2003
The Language of Terrorism

The Magic Word for today, boys and girls, is terrorism. Of course you are aware that every drug-user is a terrorist.

But did you know that everyone who swaps MP3's on the Internet is equally gulity of terrorism?

Cigarette smoker is just another name for terrorist.

Some conspircy theorists think George Bush is a terrorist.

Some others think Bill Clinton is one.

PETA thinks everyone who celebrates a traditional Thanksgiving is a terrorist.

Everyone's a terrorist to someone, it seems.

I think it's pretty obvious that this word has been so misused and overused by media and government that it has become nearly meaningless.

And that's a shame.

00:00 /Politics | 0 comments | permanent link

The Beater Truck

What a nice day. Finally got up over 60 degrees and stayed there. It was enough for us to get the front barn doors thawed out and the mail box reset (it'd been knocked over by a snowplow a month or so ago).

Also got the screens set in all the windows and actually had a few of them open. This winter may not have set a record for snowfall in Indiana (as I write this, we're a inch or two short at 56"), but it has surely been the longest, snowiest, coldest winter in the last 20 years.

The 'beater truck' sure came in handy today, too. We'd bought a 1986 Chevy Sierra 1.5 ton truck last week, with 238,000 miles! But it was 4 wheel drive, seems to run fine and had obviously been well maintained (mechanically). Never mind that I had to ask the dealership not to wash it for fear more of the body would disappear!

Anyway, I had spent a couple of hours finally peeling the sunscreen off the back window of the "new" truck, and had left the doors open, which of course, triggered the interior lights and ran down the battery.

So, since Julie was over and parked behind the Dodge, I pulled the Ram forward to get it into position to jump the Chevy. This was over the water line ditch to the barn, which of course is now something akin to brown superglue. But I managed to break free with the Dodge and get it down into the east pasture, where I turned it around and got stuck coming up the very slight (but very moist) rise to the barnlot.

So Julie gave the Chevy a jump, and Kris put it in 4 low, drove down and pulled me out. No problem at all - her wheels never spun or lost traction. We later loaded up the bed of the Chevy (it's a full 8 ft bed, unlike the Dodge) with about half the contents of our "in barn compost pile" and took it out to the real McCoy in the east pasture.

If this truck lasts us a year it'll be worth what we paid for it.

Anyway, we have a bunch of cleaning up to do, so if I neglect entering as much as usual here, you'll know why.

00:00 /Home | 0 comments | permanent link