Inch By Inch
It’s cold, I can’t go out. So, I wax long, for Our Advocate was rather comical this morning. In a bid for relevance in our community it blared the headline “Snow Sprinkles BR.” Not that any of us could look out the window of our poorly insulated homes and see the snow falling. No, we could not. Not that any of us felt the chill under the doors sweeping away our hard earned and well taxed heating bills and wonder what that was all about. No, we would not. Not that the TV cable service has no less than 5 stations dedicated to the weather, another cool dozen that have weather reports, and an emergency system bar crawler for every other station to alert us to the impending doom of global … um, snow. No, we did not see any of those, so glued to our navels were we, to have missed the news which the Advocate breathlessly gives us. Nor, too, with our internet connections and our 3G cellphones, did the information about the impending snow that was pouring down like the snow itself, come to our attention. No, we had no time to take a peek. Perhaps we even averted our eyes from such outlandish predictions as Snow in the Subtropics, horror that it was.
And so the Advocate, thankfully, did inform us it did snow in our subtropical mush pond. It is of course, certainly newsworthy when the sky is falling in a way that is unknown to us except from postcards and movies, and perhaps a little vacation experience. No, the Advocate was right to present this news story. Alas, they did not present news we could use. They gave us mush the consistency of the slush at our doorstep into which we had to stoop to pick up the mush at our door step. The first is of course the snow, the second is our Advocate. The diligent investigative arm of our Republic, so important that they say they get their own Constitutional Amendment. So important, too, that California Congressman Henry Waxman is going to hold hearings on how tax dollars can constitutionally be used to prop up the mush which has fallen on hard times due to being mush. To stiffen them up, with the cold frozen winds of government propaganda? No, Waxman says that uniquely among all recipients of federal aid, the press will be attached by no apron strings to the nanny state, but merely suckle at her breast while floating serenely in the rarified air of independence from the clutches of Congress. Fortunately, our “independent voice” is owned by a local family, and thus immune to the great pitfalls of the journalism business today.
And what was so newsworthy about the “wintry storm”? Other than the cold frigid slushy wet stuff that pelted out well suntanned hides? The word ‘wintry’ perhaps one of the staff writers had to look up to spell? And they called all manner of people to report the story, for on Saturday morning we are well informed that the State Police on Friday afternoon were “prepared to deal with icy road and had nine trucks — nine? Yes, to deal with the inclemently unexpected weather. Ah, so important to know that the state police had absolutely no resources to deal with the potential disaster that it is their job to deal with. And why should they be prepared for snow? I do not fault a state police more worried with palm fronds blowing in the roadways in hurricanes made more intense by global warming then to worry about snow which should not be falling whatsoever due to global warming. If our Advocate had looked into the matter perhaps they would have seen that current policies directed at solving a warming problem might well be directed towards a cooling problem instead.
What was newsworthy was:
THE EARLIEST KNOWN SNOWFALL IN THE CITY’S HISTORY
Ah, now there’s a headline that should have been blared!
That would have been a go-to investigation point. But Katie Kennedy and Steven Ward, our Advocate’s staff writers, and also, one would hope, the editors of our independent voice, could not muster the independence to do so. Indeed, it is almost as if they willfully ignored the history and went for the mush. I cannot say that they did. Perhaps they were just unknowing of the historic nature of the impending local cold that was blared from the Weather Channel and the Weatherman on the Advocate’s own TV station. Oh yes, such is the separation between print and broadcast media down at Advocate headquarters that they did not notice that one was saying something very different than the other. Which itself, I would guess, is news indeed, so I report it here.
But what did we get? A sprinkling of emotional news as soft as new fallen snow. And not one word about the HISTORIC nature of the snowfall and the obvious: How does this fit into the global warming narrative and the upcoming Copenhagen Climate Conference. How does this early arriving COLD stuff fit into the confiscatory tax and spend scheme being concocted by world leaders who mostly have publicly and repeatedly said they despise America, yet demand that America bail out their socialist-selves with our evil capitalist riches? I do note, in a language art way, that in Danish, which is neither cake nor pie, but the language of a kingdom, the three “C” in the confab title are KKK. Just an oddity, that’s all.
Not one word either of the swirl and stench of Collusion, Corruption and Connivance to simply “fudge” the numbers and chuck the data and squash the skeptics that has emmenated out of the four main world Collections, Colleges and Conferences that purvey this narrative of global warming. Which two sets of words do indeed, have an odd similarity to Danish, which is not cake nor pie – that KKK thing. Just an oddity, that’s all, of language art.
Not that there’s a bunch of American hating socialists in funny hats descending on a palace whose boss has a jewel sprinkled funny hat: aka: a King’s Coronation Crown – there’s the KKK thing again, dastardly are the coincidences of the language art. Why the very Currency of the Country is the Krona – which is not only KKK but the word Krona is Danish for Crown!A currency named after the boss’s hat? Yep. No Euro for those Danish Europeans.
Yet, still, in a splotch 7.5 inches by 10.5 inches on the front page of our Advocate – 85 square inches – there is a picture taking up 3/4s of the mush. It’s a nice picture of flakes in front of La Madeleine, a place of flaky pastries, the namesake of which is best portrayed in the rather extraordinary rendition of flakiness that Marcel Proust wrote in Remembrance of Things Past.
Ah, I too remember things past. Like when independent newspapers might have mentioned that the Preacher of Global Warmth, Al Gore, canceled his $1,200 a seat preaching session due to inconvenient truths. Truths not much different than the falling snow I knew absolutely nothing about until I picked the Advocate from the snow it lay in.
Perhaps too, the Historic nature of it? In a state bejeweled in history, proudly promoted by our own Senator Landrieu’s brother, who is our Lieutenant Governor, and thus responsible by law for promoting our fair bit of historicness? Though, avoiding, if possible, the real KKK, which would not fit in at all with our post racial society. But still, not the Historic nature of nature?
Another picture is of cots being set up at a homeless shelter. Not a word about why that might be necessary, or how the picture is related to the Historic Snow. And a picture that could have been printed any day of the year. For the homeless shelter is a 365 day a year thing, sadly, in a land of such historic riches and government largess. One would have thought that anyone, say Landrieu or Jindal, would simply have set up the Homeless Apartments and rendered the homeless unhomeless if we have to provide shelter every day year in and year out here since Louis XIV was building Versailles.
But it warms me, too, that there is another blaring headline about how “Landrieu dismisses Jindal’s silence” on the unfortunate situation wherein the Senator was called unsavory names by some for obtaining $300,000,000 of Louisiana’s money which she is bringing home after it’s visit to Historic Washington DC.
There the money saw all the monuments. Our $5 bills went to the Lincoln Memorial of course. Where the Hamiltons, Jacksons and Franklins went I do not know. Perhaps our Grants moseyed on up to New York City, where he, the proud son of Ohio he was, is buried. No one uses our Jeffersons much, so perhaps they stayed home in our sock drawers. Still, the unsavory words were uttered. And is it Landrieu’s fault that that is the way the Washington game, which she informed us she does not play, is played? No, she’s too dedicated to making sure that we know that she is the one who gave us back our money, with just as few strings attached as she was able to get out of the game she does not play. Which is a skill indeed.
Meanwhile, Jindal, busy hoping for change at the White House, with him at the forefront of the effort to put him at the helm of the ship of state was silent. Well, so what? Shouldn’t the story have been:
Jindal and Landrieu demand $300,000,000 Tax Cut for Louisianians.
No, that was not the headline. They did not advocate for us. Nor did our Advocate point this out. Instead it is the soap opera of it all. Not a word about if either Jindal, Landrieu or the Editors of our Advocate had a clue as to where the $300,000,000 is coming from. I can tell you, yes I can.
It’s as plain as the snow which was reported to us because we could not see it for ourselves: It comes from you, and us, and we, and I – but it cannot, ever, come from Them or They, or Washington or Baton Rouge. The money starts right here, inside our doors we are trying to seal off from the snow that swirls around us as our Advocate avoids any mention of the Historic Snowfall and the Implications for Global Warming taxes that no doubt our Landrieu and Vitter can bring home for us. Or at least get what’s left of it after Sarkozy, the First French Amazon President, a laterday Louis, get’s his fair share of Louisiana’s money. That Le Vieux France is about to stick it to Le Nouvelle France in Copenhagen as it snowed in the subtropics was not something that our Advocate noticed.
In other most important news: a major portion of the front page is given over to the joy in Mushville as the Saints go marching on to the Superbowl. A sports story right there in the “news” section. I did not get to the Sports section yet to see if there was any “news.” The paper went too quickly into the fire to heat the home.
Though, we here did not just get the cold sort of snow. We got the snow job of the State Lottery Commission which increased its president’s salary by 60% in three years. Such a lottery winner she is – congrats Ms. Rose Hudson! Why, she got a $73,380 dollar increase in salary for running the State Lottery exactly as it was before she won her own lottery. She was the lucky holder of the only ticket sold. Which is lucky indeed. Could $73,380 have helped some few old ladies in North Baton Rouge with a heating bill and its tax that will descend on them just in time for Christmas? Probably. But no, Ms. Hudson get’s a $1,200 a month car allowance so she might go to convenience stores to see how her lottery tickets are selling. The name is ironic, for it is not over the Hudson River that the bridge we have to sell is situated. It is the Brooklyn Bridge over the East River that was sold repeatedly when it was built to unsuspecting rubes caught in the snow job of sales by snake oil salesmen.
In the last important news of the day, the Advocate, tirelessly, thankfully, informs us that it is just but 20 days away before some other Santa will bring us something as good as Jindal, Landrieu, Hudson and themselves brought us. Now that’s in-dependence on a Santa that I can’t argue with as I go out to cut down the mush of the banana and elephant ear plants left by the Historic Snow.
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