Sunday check-back and...and answer?

 So, about my post below.

I occurs to me that what might explain - while we seem to be bombarded with this theme in what seems like every form of "news" and information - that there really isn't some sort of novel 21st Century human malfunction driven by social media, over exposure to disinformation, FOX "News" (but I repeat myself), radicalization, conspiracy theories, and political polarization, etcetera.

Maybe it's just that we're always been this fucking gullible and stupid.

It's just that without the digital connections we didn't have to see it.

I'm willing to go with Door Number 2, frankly.

(Oh, and aren't these little "bad princess" cartoons wonderful? They're by a graphic artist named Yingzong Xin, and you can see the others here. Joe Bob says; check 'em out.

Better off Solo

File this under "things I don't understand".

Here's Hope Solo, a young woman who - at least by appearances - is ambitious, competent, and relatively bright (given that goalkeepers, as a rule, need to have at least enough intelligence to maintain tactical control over their backline...).

While she seems to like to party and goof off as much as any young jock, she has a great gig with the USWNT and bright prospects for earnings from that gig, providing that she is and remains popular with the ponytailed legions of women's soccer fans.

Her new husband?

Not so much.

In fact, if I had to sum up Jerramy Stevens the term I'd use would be "dirtbag". And the other term I'd use is "trouble."

NOT because of any one particular thing - although he sounds like he's a real pain in the ass human being - but because of a long history of stupidity and bad decisions and flat-out fucktardry that goes back to high school.

And at least in this case breathing-while-black doesn't seem to enter into it. This isn't some kid from the hood; this is a guy who was making NFL cash, fuck-you money, who could have kept all this partying, fighting, and doping and general please-come-arrest-me-becuse-I'm-a-too-big-a-stupid-douchenozzle-to-keep-this-on-the-downlow out of the public eye in the same way that other wealthy African-Americans (and wealthy Americans of all hues) who like a bit of outlaw fun have done since the flying wedge era.

Black, white, or brown, he's just an unemployed dirtbag with a talent for fucking up.

Why in little green apples would a woman who appears to be this driven, this smart, and this put-together want a walking "kick-me" sign like this for more than an evening's diversion?

Seriously.

Sigh. I don't expect people to make smart decisions about their crotches. We all have - I suspect most of us have, at any rate - made some dumb choices about people whose groinical bits we rub our own wedding tackle against. For all that Solo seems to be a bright gal who can keep goal more than a bit there's no reason she should be any smarter than the rest of us about putting Tab A into Slot B.

But...for God's sake, Hope - this guy is nothing more than a life support system for a penis. Consider him the go-to guy when you need a bit of lovin'. Fine. He may be a bit of a laugh, he may be good as a sort of meat-based sex toy, but...to let him become anything more than that?

To become legally incorporated with him? Formally associated with him in governmentally-sanctioned domestic partnership?

Are you fucking nuts? C'mon, Hope; show me that there's some sapiens there...

I don't get it. Anyone have any insight into this? Anyone? Because for me this falls under the "things that make me wonder why we climbed down out of the trees" despair for hope of human intelligence.

Right Ol' Bastard

I stopped at this news story on the front page of the World's Worst Newspaper.

Lemme give you the Cliff's Notes version: happy young fathead and friends go whooping and diving off a tree into the Little Luckiamute River back in '96. Unhappy fathead augers headfirst into sandbar, breaks neck.

Now effectively a corpse with a working head, he is kept alive only by respirator. He is on full disability, but is suing the State of Oregon for additional funds to pay for his in-home caregivers under the Americans with Disabilities Act. Note that he tried to go it with just his family helping out but burned through them and had to turn to the state to stay on his own rather than go into some sort of nursing care facility.

Now generally I'm a pretty blue-type blue person. I honestly believe that one of the important jobs of a government is to help people do things they can't do themselves: build courts, fight fires, defend countries. And help care for themselves if they're hurt. So generally my reaction to stuff like this is, OK, it doesn't hurt me and it helps you. I may not like losing the cool old iron corner curbs in North Portland, but it helps people in wheelchairs and sk8ters alike, so, go for it.

But I read this and my instant reaction was, screw you, Jack; if the choice is between spending more public money for you to live in an apartment in Salem versus you living in a nursing home, it's Happy Acres for you, me lad.

I think that, sadly, my decision was influenced by two items; first, that this guy isn't exactly Steven Hawking and keeping him in his house is unlikely to get a return on the public's investment outside his own happiness, and, second, that he didn't get his injury being blown from an MRAP in Ramadi - he and his buddies made a dumbass decision and he paid for it.

Extra credit for his pal who "drove back to the river and, in anger, sawed down the tree" they were swinging and jumping from!

Shrewd.

So am I just being a right ol' bastard about wanting to deny more of my taxes to this poor mook? Does the fact that this guy pulled what was essentially a stupid boner and surveyed himself make a difference in who is responsible for his care? I'm honestly curious; what do you think we as "society" should do for this poor sonofabitch, and what part, if any, does the culpability for the guy's injury play? Comment away; I am always curious to find out exactly how much of a real jerk I am...