Fired while being #Atheist
Source: James Jordan (Flickr).
One night I dreamed I was walking on a beach with the Lord. In the sky I saw scenes from my life. In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints side by side. Other times the footprints were single file, like Sand People who travel that way to conceal their numbers. This bothered me because the single file footprints seemed to precede all of tumultuous times in my life.
So I said to the Lord, “You promised you would always walk with me. But the footprints say that each time the shit was about to hit the fan you were no longer by my side.”
The Lord replied, “The times you see single file footprints are the times you stabbed me in the back.”
At times religion can be a beautiful thing. At other times it can be more like a barrel of monkeys. Believer or not, I think most people can agree at least that much is true.
In the news recently was a story about a high school teacher claiming he was fired for being an atheist. Let’s take a look shall we?
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They Talk Among Us
I thought maybe I had shared this story before but the search function says otherwise. So here goes.
There I was, a young pre-guru lad, still in my sensitive formative years, sitting on grandma’s porch out on the Taker homestead. Aw, shucks, I may even have been chewing on some amber stalks of grain.
The neighbor came over and started talking to my grandma. I was just a youngin’ so I didn’t pay no mind to their adult conversation.
Until… suddenly, the neighbor just dropped the N-word!
I sucked in my breath. Holy shit, I thought, someone is in for it now. I got the hell out of Dodge to make way for the can of whoop ass I knew my grandma was about to open.
Except… that didn’t happened. Grandma didn’t use the word herself, but she as hell didn’t kick that fucker in the nards, either. In fact, she acted like nothing happened at all.
Although I was young, I’ve never forgotten that moment. It is still vivid in my mind. I learned an important lesson that day. I guess it’s hard to forget certain moments frozen in time like when you got your heart broke. It was all part of my Intro 101 to this planet, I guess.
Fast-forward to present day where I’m, obviously, a seasoned traveler and enlightened guru in this game called life. Shit like that no longer surprises me.
What the fuck? Cliven Bundy just said what? Double dribble? Come again? The owner of an NBA basketball team just said what?
I guess I’m not as enlightened as I thought. I still can be surprised.
And, like always, this got me to thinking…
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Juvenile Criminal Thoughts
I have no idea if this is a 20 gauge. This is not a blog particularly concerned with the accurate identification of firearms. I do believe, however, it is a shotgun.
This week brought the news that a 12-year-old boy in the 8th grade took a loaded sawed-off 20 gauge pump shotgun to his school and opened fire, seriously wounding an 11-year-old boy (shot in the face) and a 13-year-old girl in the school’s gym.
cold… calculated… premeditated… random…
The New Mexico state police stated that the attack was “planned.” Part of that planning included the shooter issuing warnings to friends, advising them to stay away from school.
The 20-gauge shotgun is a type of smoothbore shotgun shell that is smaller in caliber (.615) than a 12 gauge (.729). It is often used as a beginning shooter’s practice round and is noted by its yellow hull.
A 20-gauge shotgun is sometimes considered more suitable for hunting certain types of game, because it damages less meat, which makes it suitable for most game birds.
Source: Wikipedia – 20-gauge shotgun
The firearm was obtained by the shooter from “family members,” the police said. The shooter’s Facebook page featured a picture of the shooter beside a deer he had killed during a hunting trip.
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I can haz educashun?
Devices in the classroom? What could possibly go wrong?
Attention class! Eyes up here. Settle down, now! No, Siri is not allowed to say the Pledge of Allegiance on your behalf. We don’t offer citizenship by proxy. Yet. You just might be missing the point. And devices down before putting Siri and/or your hand over your heart.
Say what? Devices you say? In school? What fresh hell is this?
Okay, class. Who was the first president of the United States, often referred to as the father of our country? All together now, in unison, just like Wilma and Betty:
Google it!!!
Well done, class. iTunes credit for everyone! Except little Timmy, there, who’s family can’t even afford an iPhone 5s. Ha ha! Use the social media network of your choice, except Facebook (which is passé), to shame him and/or encourage him to commit suicide.
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School’s In For Bummer
Greetings and solicitations!
It used to be that the school year was a happy time. A time when the junior-sized asshole humans were (mostly) out from underfoot. Ahhhh. Those were the days.
No more.
You can blame it all on politics and unions and Tea Parties and partisanship and vouchers and hog wallerin’ and mud slingin’ and clean campaigns and dirty campaigns and COLA and inflation and school boards and lots, lots more.
Is an army of darkness one of the seven seals of Armageddon? Or maybe it was a vial? I can never keep those things straight.
Make no mistake. Let me be clear. War has been declared. And war is Hell. Tranquility has been attacked and tranquility will be defended. Even if I have to asplode.
If you want to enlist, make the jump.
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Should schools teach Rick Perry?
Yee-haw!
Most of this post was written Tuesday morning before Iowa caucuses got around to doing their thing…
Somewhere out there, right now, as I write this post, Rick Perry is in Iowa. He has dropped to the deck to flop like a fish. And he’s saying inane shit like, “I don’t have any doubt that if it is just me and Mitt Romney who the Republican primary voter is going to pick all across this country. They are going to pick the true, authentic conservative, not a conservative of convenience that Mitt Romney is.”
He also said he feels “very good” about his chances in Iowa today.
Isn’t it cute? It thinks it can win. It puts the lotion on its skin.
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Thanking a teacher
I was driving home from work on Wednesday night and listening to some NPR show about teachers that you were thankful made some difference in your life. I can’t remember the name of the show or who was on, but some successful person had looked up one of his grade school teachers and the teacher was talking about how that had moved him.
The show got me thinking about teachers I have known.
There was Mrs. Simmons from the 1st grade. It surprises me I can still remember her name. She was a rather stern woman who looked a lot like Aunt Bee from Mayberry RFD.
I also remember my 2nd grade teacher. She was a beautiful woman and I had the hots for her. Seriously. It was true love. Not a crush. Yes, I started early. I’m a little bit sad I no longer remember her name.
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Shouts from the Abyss 
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