1. CCA gives money to politicians who enact tough anti-immigrant laws that result in more inmates in CCA facilities. It’s actually kind of smart, if you think about it. You could run prisons full of dangerous criminals who are constantly scheming to get over on your employees, which sometimes results in their deaths, or you could run prisons full of ordinary folks who just wanted a better life for themselves and their families. But it’s the buying off of these politicians that just makes me laugh. I mean, Sheriff Hall, who knew you were so cheap?
2. Tennessee’s angriest gubernatorial candidate is also a little sinister. Still, there’s something refreshing about “I’ve already got my friends set up in the cushy political jobs they’d have when I was governor due to my shady dealings while I was in Congress.” No surprises. No scandal out of left field.
3. Yes, see, here in the real world, Campfield, when people do a study, the conclusions are not foregone. So we do need to have people working on the matter to try to figure out what’s going on. And, yes, you also have to pay people to do work. I love how Republicans are all about capitalism and such until they see it in action and then they’re all “But why aren’t these people just donating their time out of the goodness of their hearts?!”
The hilarious thing about this is that he’s such a fucking con artist. Not a good con artist, but a con artist, flailing around to try to find the soundbite he thinks is going to make people be all “Oh, yeah, trying to figure out how to save our babies is so fucking stupid, heh.” Well, you can’t always Beevis and Butthead your way through an issue.
But damn it if he’s not going to try.
4. Remember when John Fogerty plagiarized himself and got in trouble with CCR’s record company? And yet, John Rich can make this video. Note to John Rich: You probably shouldn’t remind people how much better you sound with Big Kenny singing next to you.
When I worked at the newspaper, they would still have “news” from the surrounding communities that would be all “Mrs. William Bates and Mrs. Randall Jones had lunch at their mother’s, Mrs. Yolanda Pierce, on Wednesday. They had tunafish sandwiches and Mrs. Bates delighted everyone with tales of her new broom.” They were always kind of hilariously boring, but if you knew the town gossip, shoot, those things told you a lot. Like, if you knew Mrs. Bates beat Mr. Bates over the head with the old broom upon discovering him in the arms of the Pierce sister who seems to have been conspicuously absent from lunch on Wednesday, that bit about the new broom is kind of funny.
Anyway, I don’t have any good ICMC gossip, but writing up everything I did this weekend for Pith reminded me of those old community columns.
Also, I always think it’s a good one when I crack myself up.
Last night, we sat out in the hammocks, catching up, and watching the lightning bugs. I’m still not convinced, completely, that they are lightning bugs. Their lights stayed on for too long and none of them seemed too interested in each other.
But this has been a weird spring. Maybe everything is having trouble finding its groove.
It’s fun to watch people who are uncertain about hammocks get into one. Hell, I’ve been there. I can remember when I used to regularly get stuck in the hammock, unable to figure out how to get my feet beneath me to get out. But I love the look of delight on a person’s face when she lets go of standing and the hammock catches her and she realizes it’s going to hold her and swing her.
I was completely obnoxious, showing Brittney all my flowers, discussing my weeds, pointing out buds that may or may not come to anything. But Mrs. Wigglebottom was very well-behaved, surprisingly well-behaved, which was nice.
The internet has changed so much. It used to be, when I was little, we moved and pretty much everyone at those old places was lost to us. Yeah, maybe one or two people you could kind of keep track of, but in general, they were gone. They moved on with their lives and you moved on with yours and it was only under very exceptional circumstances that you met up again.
But now, it’s like, here’s this place where we can find each other, check in on each other, and touch base.
When Brittney showed up in my driveway, she was not someone I used to know before she moved away. She was just a friend I hadn’t seen in ages.
And I am grateful to the internet for that.
We had a really nice evening catching up. And then I came inside and learned Katie Granju’s son has died. I don’t know. You know how that is, every day. Some people’s lives are just happening nicely while other people’s lives are broken open.
I don’t have anything profound to say. My heart is just broken for Katie.