Quick Hitts

A run of the mill county commissioners meeting in Texas became a perfect example of idiots who are yearning to be offended at every opportunity.

Commissioner Keneth Mayfiled, who is white, said “It sounds like Central Collections has become a black hole.” This prompted Wiley Price, who is black, to demand an apology for the “racist” term. He later whined to a reporter about Angel Food Cake being white and Devils food Cake being black. He illustrated his mastery of English by peppering his conversation with the brillant phrase “You know?”

The article suggested using the phrase “singularity,” although if this race-bater isn’t married he’d probably find that offensive as well.

This reminds me of the story a few years ago about PC mouth breathers in Los Angles demanding that equipment manufactures stop using the terms “slave” and “master” for hard drives and other components. It was prompted by a similar idiot filing a discrimination complaint about the terms. The purchasing manager, Joe Sandova, said “We are culturally sensitive and we have 90,000 employees. We have to take these things seriously.” No you don’t. The best way to handle this would have been to tell the complainers “Grow up, shut up and get out of my office, you idiots.”

The Texas situation could be used help clarify definitions in English classes. The teacher could show a representation of a black hole and a photo of Price, then explain, “This is a black hole, and this is an asshole.”

Last week Jessica Simpson was chastised by Pamela Anderson for wearing a shirt that said “Real Women Eat Meat.” Pamela was representing the brain trust PeTA.

When two intellects of this caliber have a philosophical disagreement, it should not be battled out in words. It should be battled out physically, with a wrestling match. The uniform should be white halter tops and shorty-shorts, and the arena should be a padded pit containing about three inches of baby oil.

Next week: Charlie Manson and David Berkowitz discuss the merits of the recent 2nd amendment decision.

I literally wore out my first copy of “Where Have I Known You Before” and had to buy another one, so I was thrilled to see that Return to Forever was touring with the original line up, for the first time in a quarter century. Even better, they were the headliners for the Saratoga <brand name of the year> Jazz Festival, which is a short drive from home.

The Saratoga Performing arts center is a large covered amphitheater, with additional lawn seating and lots of room elsewhere for tents, tarps, concessions, etc. I went for a seat inside the amphitheater which not only gave me a good view of the stage, but was good protection from the short but heavy storms that punctuated the day.

There was a gazebo set up in a different part of the park, far enough away that the sound from the amphitheater didn’t interfere with the music there. When it wasn’t raining I’d wander around the place, heading in the general direction of either the amphitheater or the gazebo, and sit and listen when the music grabbed me.

Which it usually did. There were exceptions, of course. The Saxophone Summit, featuring Joe Lovano, Dave Liebman & Ravi Coltrane, turned out to be NJS (Nauseating Jazz Stuff – with everyone going in entirely different directions, paying no attention to each other), but no problem – I went to the gazebo and listened to someone else. Saw some incredible musicians and ate some concession food, and finally, at the end of the day, took my seat for RTF.

The place wasn’t sold out, and during the day people came and went for different shows. One couple, who I’d exchanged pleasantries with earlier, asked if I knew anything about the upcoming group. I gave them a brief rundown of their history, how they were all incredible musicians and how much they influenced and led the fusion movement. I told them they were about to see a once in a lifetime show, and were in for a real treat.

The band came out and opened with Vulcan Worlds, playing fast and tight and filling the place with their music. After their second song I turned to the couple, intending to ask how they were enjoying it. They were getting up to leave. To the uninitiated RTF can sound like NJS.

They spent about a third of the show doing solos. Stanley Clarke is still a wild man on the bass. Al Di Meola plays so fast, flawlessly, and melodically he hardly seems human. And Chick and Lenny aren’t too bad either. (Understatement of the year.) And while the solos were a treat, I really came to hear the band, and wish they spent more time playing together.

Because they did their 90 minutes, and that was it. They left the stage, and the house lights came up. Everyone was yelling for an encore. They waited, and waited, and then walked out on stage. And waved to the audience, and bent over and shook hands with a few people at the front of the stage, and left again.

Come on, guys, that was a cheesy and low class. We waited twenty five years to see you play together again. The least you could have done was played an encore.

But what they did play was amazing. If you’ve never heard them before, check out some of their performances here.

The party who wants to tell you how to live every facet of your life (as opposed to the other party who wants to tell you how to live every other facet of your life) has published their guidelines for catering at the national convention.

Fried food is prohibited. No fried anything. They’re promoting healthy eating habits, you see. Not only that, but their food must represent racial harmony. Seriously, the say every meal should include “”at least three of the following colors: red, green, yellow, purple/blue and white.”

What, no demand for brown? Racists!

Today The Supremes announced, by the narrowest possible majority, that the second amendment means exactly what it says. They citied the writings of the founding fathers, and the actual language in the amendment. In short they ruled that “the right of the people to keep and bear arms” means “the right of the people to keep and bear arms.” Scalia wrote the majority opinion, and resisted the urge to end it with “Well, Duh!”

The left is freaking out. Of course. Mayor Daily is saying “That doesn’t apply to Chicago. Nuh uh.” (Paraphrased slightly.) He finds that allowing people to defend themselves against criminals is a very frightening idea. Uber Nanny Michael Bloomburg says “fighting illegal guns has nothing to do with the Second Amendment rights of Americans.” He’s right. Americans have a right to own guns, so they’re not illegal, so Michael, how about you relax and have a cigar. Oh, wait, you’re made that impossible in Fun City. Sen. Dianne Feinstein is upset that this destroys decades of precedent. Decades of lousy, obviously wrong precedent she’s ignorant enough to agree with. Her love of nannyism is apparent in her statement, “I think it opens this nation to a dramatic lack of safety.”

Academics, gun-grabbers, far-lefties and other socialists have been making ridiculous claims about the amendment since approximately forever. They claim that “the people” is a group, but only for that amendment. All the other rights of “the people” are individual rights, but this one, somehow, is magically a group right, because they want it to be. Now when they whine and wring their hands we can just laugh at them, which is usually the correct response anyway.

The case was specifically about Washington D. C. The police chief has said it will take a few month to change their system and allow permits. Expect to see this kind of dancing all over the country. Which brings to mind the way cowboys made each other dance in old westerns. (Dance! Bang! Dance! Bang!). But I digress.

The real far-left hand-wringing will start a year or two from now, when the evidence is in and the crime rates are dropping. Criminals like defenseless victims. A high potential for victims to be armed makes a bad guy’s career choice considerably less attractive.

To anyone who doesn’t believe that will happen, I propose the following wager. Within 18 months of D. C. citizens being able to defend themselves (starting from when the Chief stops dancing) homicides in that area will drop by at least 30%. The wager is one fine cigar, or if you prefer, your choice of a refreshing beverage.  (Leave a comment to accept the wager.)

When I was in high school, one Monday the morning announcements told us that one of the students had died over the weekend. She was an underclassman, a special ed kid. No one in my classes knew her, but it was still stunning news. It was wrong, it was creepy, it was scary – kids our age weren’t supposed to die in real life. And even though none of us knew her, there was still a sense of loss.

Last week,. in Oakland CA, police officers visited 20 classrooms in the El Camino High School and informed the students that several of their classmates had been killed in drunk driving accidents over the weekend.

But… it was a hoax. Ha Ha, just kidding. No one had died; the school administrators cooked up the scheme to “teach” the kids about the dangers of drunk driving.

The kids were furious, and shouted at the teachers during the assembly when the truth was announced. Some held up protest signs. But at least a few were accepting. 15-year-old Carolyn Magos said “You feel betrayed by your teachers and administrators, these people you trust. But then I felt selfish for feeling that way, because, I mean, if it saves one life, it’s worth it.” Congratulations, Carolyn, you win two awards with that statement – the Mindless Drone awards and the Nanny cliché award.

When I first heard this story (sent to me by Parrot) I was seething. This is beyond vile, beyond appalling. Every police officer, school official and teacher who participated in it deserves to be horsewhipped in the town square, literally horsewhipped, then fired and banned from ever working in their profession again, for life.

But because they’re government drones, they’ll probably be promoted.

This is the spot to comment on the latest Quick Hitts Podcast, “A Christian Nation?“