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I'm gonna hold my sarcasm back on this one, but this is not what I had in mind for a matched set of WLE power. An empty coke train heads back to the WLE at Wellington, passing Berea Tower on NS and will get on the CSX track just behind me using what was the Indianapolis Connection in Conrail days.
Wedding/Model Portrait of Top Cat . For more wonderful photography, plz lyk "Dislar ব্যাঁকাত্যাঁরা Wedding/Portrait/Model Photography by Dislarwala" page.
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'Fabulous, daaahling," said the flickr toys mosaic maker when I was done...
Sarcasm and irony are so easy to produce with fashion dolls- I never tire of seeing what my flickr friends come up with. Cade; quickbits33407; jaquaw; ultrasparky; and guy, the bearded phantom
1. 75,000 visits!!, 2. Me and the 5 More Guys, 3. Kevin Venice 2001, 4. Poseur 04, 5. Pool Party at Diogioscuro's 3- Skinnydipping, 6. Brokeback Mountain 82441, 7. Merry Christmas, 8. Pool Party at Diogioscuro's 3- Skinnydipping, 9. Pool Party at Diogioscuro's 010, 10. The Kiss, 11. Another Pool Party at Diogioscuro's! 002, 12. Boys In A Bowl 2
Fotografía: Chema Pascual
La ignorancia es el mayor de tus defectos, (creo)
No me conoces, te equivocas del todo conmigo.
Infórmate mejor ;)
Me gusta el sarcasmo, ingeniar, como muchos se rabiarían.
Vuestra envidia es la mayor manifestación de admiración.
© All Rights Reserved
I finally added the photo. The photo didn't turn out exactly the way I had hoped. It looks much better in motion, so have a look at this video if you want to. www.youtube.com/watch?v=iEaflsH0Oro
(Some of this is sarcasm. Don't take it entirely seriously. It's mostly serious, though.)
This is the strange and incredible tale of Gamma Ray, a man who tries his hardest to succeed but uncannily wrecks more spectacularly in proportion to how much effort he puts into something.
Way back when I was a little, little boy in the late 80s and very early 90s, I used to go to Boston with my parents. We used to visit relatives. My aunt, uncle, and cousin. We had lots of good times. Those earliest memories of mine from the 90s are some of my fondest. I believe it was the summer of 1991 that we last went there.
It's more than 22 years later, and I'm on vacation. I genuinely wanted to get away from home and see something new. You see, I'm growing tired of the status quo. I don't know if I want to make a big change, but I wanted to expand my horizons.
Perhaps my desires were clouded by delusions. When I put my mind to something these days, I go at it with an "everything's going to be all right" attitude. Even if I throw myself into something, I can fight my way out of it because I know I'm going to work hard enough to succeed. This approach does work fairly often. It has also toughened me up. However, I need to learn discretion. This story will make that quite apparent.
Yesterday morning, I decided to go to Boston. I had already thought about it a bunch, but yesterday was the day that I was going to do it. I packed and packed. I packed clothes. I packed my GPS. I packed money. I packed two dolls. I have a dear friend in Boston who I wanted to meet up with if she was able to while I was there. I was going to stay there for nearly a week anyway, so there would be plenty of time.
I researched hotels. I used one of their addresses as my GPS target point. It got me moving in the right direction. Before I got to Boston, the GPS also worked very well. It hiccupped at one point, but it was no big deal because I was paying attention anyway.
The drive to Boston was pretty good, all things considered. Taking the NJ Parkway and then the NJ Turnpike up north and east was fine. The upper level of the George Washington Bridge was rocky, as were the rest of the roads in New York, but it wasn't anything major. Connecticut was nice. I chuckled when I passed by what appeared to be the WWE headquarters. I wasn't expecting that. I wonder if they were in the same place when I was a little kid and when they were the WWF. I was probably sleeping at the time, so I wouldn't have remembered. I did decide to stop for a bathroom break in Connecticut, and I decided to get gas at the service area while I was there. After about 10 minutes of me pressing the help button because I had never pumped my own gas before (people in New Jersey aren't allowed to pump their own gas) and not getting any help, I decided to leave. I still had plenty of gas anyway.
I hit half tank in Massachusetts. I needed gas. Luckily, the first gas station in that state has two attendant-assisted pumps. The attendant was nice. He joked with me about "you darn Joisey people" :D Then he wiped down my windshield and rear window. I hadn't gotten service like that in New Jersey in nearly two decades. (Well, that would have been my parents getting that service, but I digress.) I told him that I felt like a king :D It was a nice experience, but it was a misdirection for how much of a nightmare the trip would become.
Before I got to Boston, I saw traffic getting backed up tremendously going west. I thought it was a little early for that. It was certainly strange. As I was getting closer, I got caught up in traffic, too. There was one exit that I had to take that was an A-B-C exit. That's where things first got congested for me. That was also where my GPS first started being indecisive. It began telling me to go to one letter exit, but then it told me to go to another letter. Then it told me to go back to the first letter. I figured it was confused because I wasn't moving very much, so I just stuck with the first exit it told me.
After I got off that ramp, I ended up on another highway that was barely moving at all. I also had to get all the way from the left to the right in order to take another exit. That was incredibly not fun. Luckily there was a nice school bus driver who let me over a couple times. However, after the next exit, there was a colossal cluster foul-up of gigantic proportions. The traffic lights seemed to be more vague suggestions than an actual control mechanism. The congestion didn't help things. I eventually scooted over to the right and got on my way.
It was about this time that I ended up in the city. The city. I can be quite naive, you know. When you say Boston, I think USS Constitution, Paul Revere, a quaint place. I got a barrage of big city NYC-style hopelessness. I could see NYC being less frustrating to drive in, though. A good chunk of that city makes navigational sense. Boston is one big cluster foul-up. Nothing gives a novice a sense of direction or place. I tried navigating with my compass, but that was a waste. The GPS had a hard time keeping up. I even ended up in some sort of underground highway a couple times, and the GPS lost satellite connection. For some reason I passed by TD Garden twice. I have no idea why. I somehow ended up on this one road (a science museum is on it) that was a nightmare. Nothing was moving. It was hard to tell what lane was for what. There was a police officer guiding cars. There was no accident. It was just a guy's futile attempt to tame the beast of Boston streets.
I drove in the city for hours. As I was trying to find hotels on my list. I found a few, I gave up on others. None of the ones I found were good options, though. I only spotted a few parking garages, but they all appeared to be closed. I had no confidence in navigating on foot, so making it to a hotel that I did find was going to be another ordeal that I was unprepared for.. I wasn't expecting it to be like this. I was expecting the hotels to have parking lots. I wasn't expecting it to be so urban. I know I said this all before, but it needs repeating.
I eventually ended up in a more suburb-ish area of Boston on my final hotel quest. It was getting very late. I was getting hungry, and I was in danger of running out of steam before I found someplace safe to stay. I found a Domino's Pizza and parked in the no parking area of the electrical supply company's place next door. It looked like they were closed, so I didn't think anybody would have minded. I guess I could have parked at the animal hospital across the street, but that would have just been selfish.
I don't know if all Domino's places are like this because I don't usually eat Domino's, but this place had no sit-down space. I got my pizza and then ate it in my car. As I was eating it, I called my dad. I told him that if I ever had a crazy idea like this ever again, I wanted him to break my legs. We bickered for a while. He eventually told me that the first time he went to Boston alone, he got lost for four hours. I really, really wished he told me that sooner. I told him as I was eating and talking to him that I was contemplating just coming back home. I was in danger of something seriously bad happening. Heck, I didn't even know if I was in a good neighborhood. Maybe I was in danger of being mugged. Four out of six slices of the personal pizza later, I told him that I was going to get moving again. I rinsed my hands with some bottled water, and then I drove. I tried finding that final hotel for a little longer, but I gave up. It was getting far too late, and I needed to get someplace safe before I was in danger of falling asleep behind the wheel. Even if that place was all the way back in New Jersey.
Long story short, I ended up back in the city area of Boston before I got back on the interstate westbound and out of there. That time was miserable, too. It can be summarized in the list of Boston driving annoyances below.
*The infrastructure bites. Street lines are faded. Signs telling you which lane is which hardly exist. Instead of medians, they have bricks. Some may say quaint. I say they're too cheap for a few curbs.
*The streets are all over the place, and nothing makes any sense.
*Parking is a drag. I did most of my GPS reworking while I was caught in traffic. The only time I could stop and collect myself was when I was eating the pizza.
*The GPS told me that I had made it to my destination while I was still underground. Ugh.
*Traffic is the worst I have ever seen in my entire life. Even before rush hour, it was bad. Then it got worse. I've never been to Los Angeles (or was that San Francisco?), but it can't be any worse than this.
*They haven't invented flashing yellow lights yet. There are full stop lights that have flashing green lights or flashing red lights. I don't know what any of it means. I made a left turn at a flashing red. I don't know if that's even allowed. I just looked around for cops and then went for it.
*Roundabouts. Those miserable things can get skewered six ways from sideways Saturday. We don't have these things in New Jersey. We may have the occasional circle, but at least it's not a roundabout. Good luck knowing what the heck is going on when you're on a roundabout. I ran into two of these on my way out of the city.
*People parking their cars on the road. I don't mean parking spots on the side of the road, too. I mean people park their cars in actual lanes. I think I'm in a lane, and then BAM! Parked car. Now I've got to get left. In New Jersey, we have parking space lines, or we just have extra space that isn't misleading to look like a lane. Boston has dashed lines, for goodness sake! It's a lane! It's not a parking spot!
*The interstate sign on the way out of the city is blocked by a light pole or something. It's actually sort of a miracle that I ended up on the highway at all. There was a secondary sign on the pole, but it was tiny and didn't say much.
*Listening to the song Radar Love while stuck in traffic really is that frustrating.
I don't know how many laws I broke while driving in Boston. The whole place was madness. I felt like I was going to be lucky to get out of there with everything intact. It was really that bad.
Once I got on the interstate, it was dark. Luckily, the congestion had cleared up. Unluckily, no more gas station attendants. I stopped a couple times to pump my own gas. That was interesting. I don't like how you can't feed it cash, though. I realized that I never called my credit card company to tell them that I was going to Boston, but luckily everything went through. I was expecting to be able to hook the nozzle to the gas tank like they do in New Jersey, but I had to hold it. I didn't overflow the tank, thankfully.
The first gas station was all right, but the second one was more confusing. At one point it asked me for my zip code, but it gave me an option to press yes or no. Neither option did anything. I then just typed my zip code on the keypad which made absolutely no sense contextually, but that worked after 10 minutes.
Besides pumping my own gas, the drive home was no big deal. There was a slight GPS hiccup regarding the Cross Bronx Expressway in New York, but it was downright pleasant compared to the entirety of my Boston experience. It was just many, many, many hours on the road. However, the entrance to the lower level of the George Washington Bridge has a section that is dangerous beyond belief. It's two lanes zipping really quick left then really quick right with big barriers on each side. I blurted some choice expletives then positioned myself between the lanes so the turn wasn't so sharp while also slowing down a lot. I don't know if I annoyed anybody, but I made it through.
When I got home, my dad was already asleep. I microwaved the last two slices of pizza and ate them. I have never microwaved Domino's before, so I made it too hot.
I reflected on the time I spent. I wanted to have a good time there. I wanted to see some historical stuff. I wanted to visit my family. For a long time, I had dreamed of seeing the sunrise over the Boston harbor. As silly as it may be, the video game Stunt Race FX for the Super Nintendo has a deep connection to myself and to Boston. There's one track called Harbor City. While you're racing, the sun rises. Well, it's 16-bit, so you can't see the sun, but the sky pleasantly transforms into brightness on the final lap. Yes, one of the biggest reasons I wanted to go to Boston was because of a video game I played in 1996 that reminded me of 1990. It was one of the things that kept my heart close to my earliest memories. However, I was just glad to be home and safe by that point.
I checked my computer and found out that my friend was excited to meet me and see my dolls. I must have disappointed her. I went to bed.
This morning, the top of my mouth is still burned, and my right arm is tingling from gripping the steering wheel tightly for hours. I didn't have a good sleep, and I'm feeling woozy now. But tomorrow's another day. Today's not going to be fun, though.
Taken just after Pittsburgh won the Super Bowl. We were very excited. Feel it!!
I think they were intent on watching the post-game festivities, though, or still in utter shock and disbelief.
The delicate lightness of this winter here in Cleveland from December of 2009 and going now and well into Feburary of 2010. It is equally comparable to being hit in the face by a sledge hammer.
Momo, el dios de la burla, el sarcasmo y la crítica. Hijo de la noche, padre del carnaval. Cada cual a su manera le rinde culto, dependiendo del momento y la porción del planeta en la que se encuentre carnavaleando.
En Argentina, los feriados del carnaval fueron eliminados en 1976 mediante un decreto emitido por entonces el presidente de facto y genocida Jorge Rafael Videla, durante la dictadura militar. Recién hace algunos años fueron recuperados en democracia.
Bailar, jugar, correr, cantar, criticar, apropiarse de la calle, adornarla, llenarla de vida, conocer al vecinx, agruparse, debía ser evitado a toda costa ya que nada tenía que ver esto con el autodenominado “Proceso de Reorganización Nacional” que quisieron imponernos a punta de pistola.
Hay quien hasta dice que la murga y el carnaval son las vacaciones de los pobres, y no hace falta más que pasearse en febrero por los mil barrios de Buenos Aires para corroborarlo.
Larga vida al Rey Momo.
Today was the day for left knee surgery #4. It was scheduled for 1pm over at Stanford, which meant my dad and I needed to be there at 11am to check in and get all prepped. Before leaving my parents' house, I took another shower with the fabulous (no sarcasm here, nosiree) anti-bacterial scrub kits. We got on the road to Palo Alto, and arrived at about 10:45am. We were parked and walking into the surgery center at about 10:50am. I got all checked in and it then became a waiting game. I helped my dad with getting the internet working on his laptop, watched several doctors come out and speak with families, and watched several other people get called back for pre-op. One addition that had been made since my visit in March was a status screen - each patient was assigned a case number, and the board displayed the case number and current location of the patient. I never saw mine say anything other than "Patient in Facility".
Finally, at about 12pm, the pre-op nurse came to take me back. My dad stayed out in the waiting room, and that was the last time I saw him until after I "woke up". She weighed me (yay for swimming weight loss!), took my blood pressure and pulse (yep, nervous), and then asked all the standard questions. I changed, and was hopeful that I wouldn't have the compression stockings, but my hopes were dashed when she realized what she'd forgotten. And this time it was thigh-highs for both legs - that's going to be fun after surgery. Again, I was changed and ready to go well before the scheduled surgery time, so I was able to "relax" and watch TV. The surgery center was incredibly busy today - since my pre-op area was down towards the end, I watched lots of people get wheeled back for surgery before me. I did meet one of Dr F's fellows, and he reviewed the plan with me, and said I'd talk to Dr F before the surgery, either out in pre-op or after I got to the OR. I still hadn't seen Dr F, nor an anesthesiologist, at 1pm, so I knew we were going to be starting late, just like last time.
Dr F showed up at about 1:15pm, and we talked briefly. He did what he's good at and poked and pushed and prodded what hurt, and I told him that he had carte blanche to do whatever he felt necessary to fix this thing once and for all - he was allowed to cut, take out, move, shove, break, whatever. He laughed at that and kind of rubbed his hands together and said that we'd get it fixed, like he promised. He said they were finishing up in one of the ORs, so it would still be a few minutes or a little while, and that he'd see me later (though I may not see him). The little while turned into about an hour. I might have been one of the last people left in pre-op at that point.
Anesthesiology finally showed up around 2pm. As it turns out, they're in the middle of a research study at Stanford, pertaining to how anesthesia induction is accomplished - either in one big dose or via a syringe pump to just the point where the patient is asleep, at which time anesthesia would be provided as normal through inhaled gases. Lucky me, I was being asked if I wanted to participate. I told the doctor (Dr I) that as long as I went to and stayed asleep, sure. That meant a few more steps before heading into the OR, and little did I know at that point, it meant I would not be receiving anything to calm me down. I got outfitted with the regulation IV in my left hand, but then he applied all kinds of other monitors, on my forehead and neck. He finished his preparation with me, and said he'd see me back in the OR. As it turned out, he was not actually going to be my anesthesiologist for the whole surgery. Shortly after he left, I met another anesthesiologist (unfortunately I missed her name), and we chatted about the surgery and anesthesia, and then she said she'd be my anesthesiologist. I also met one of the nurses at this point, so I knew we were getting close to heading back. The anesthesiologist asked me how old I was, and it turned out that she is turning that same age in a month. I told her I hoped that her boyfriend (who she'd been talking about) was not going to do what my friends did to me for my birthday this year, and then proceeded to tell her about the singing gorilla with the pink tutu. She laughed, and then apparently stored the info for later use.
She went to check on things, and when she came back, it was finally time to head back. I was hoping I'd get something in the IV to relax a little bit, but no such luck. We stopped on the way to pick up a stylish cap for me, and we finally ended up in the OR (#11). The room was much busier than the surgery in March - several nurses, the fellow I'd met earlier, someone else, Dr I, my anesthesiologist, and myself. Shortly after that, a couple more people came in. It was Grand Central Station in there (and freezing). They raised the gurney up and lowered the operating table, and I moved over to the table with several people helping me. The gown was untied so that more monitors could be placed once I was laying down, and the gurney was taken away. The anesthesiologist had me lay back with my head in a foam pillow thing, and people got down to work. Dr I started placing more monitors from my left, and the other doc started putting monitors on my right side, including the blood pressure cuff.
The nurses got the arm things put on the table, so I had somewhere to rest my arms, and the anesthesiologist said that she was going to start giving me some oxygen to breathe. At this point I heard my pulse rate on the monitor and it was going pretty fast. She put a oxygen over my nose and mouth and fastened it with a strap so she could keep working on other things. It was hard to exhale into the mask initially, but it got a little easier. She leaned over and said to me that the unfortunate part about the research study was that I was probably going to remember a lot more about the whole going off to sleep process than they usually like patients to experience, just because it makes everyone more nervous. She said I should just think about singing gorillas in pink tutus to take my mind off things.... Dr I was still attaching monitors, including plugging the one on my forehead into something, and the nurse I'd met earlier came over and asked me if I was warm enough. I kind of shrugged - not like I could really answer at this point. Dr I said a few things to me, about getting me off to sleep in just a few minutes, etc., and that he was going to have me hold onto a syringe filled with water so that they'd know when I was asleep (i.e., I would drop the syringe when I drifted off into unconsciousness). I met another anesthesiologist at that point - she said something about "you're meeting a lot of us today", but I never caught her name either. My anesthesiologist said something to her about how it was hard for the anesthesiologists to have patients not sedated as part of the study too - I don't know what the reply was...I was too busy hearing my own breathing in a Darth Vader sound to pay attention.
Finally, Dr I leaned over and handed me the syringe, and I was to hold onto it with my thumb and first finger, over the edge of the arm board, until I fell asleep. He said they were starting the medication at that point, and that I'd be drifting off. As he said that, I heard my heartrate get a little faster - it was funny listening to the effect of what was going on around me on my heartrate. My anesthesiologist unstrapped the oxygen mask and tilted my head back a little bit, still holding the mask over my nose and mouth. She also starting putting a bunch of stuff up on my chest, like the breathing tube, at least from what I could see. I started feeling myself get really drowsy, heard Dr I tell me to keep holding on to the syringe, and then I heard a really loud rushing sound and don't remember anything after that. I'm assuming I dropped the syringe, but who knows. :)
The first thing I remember after that was the sound of some people talking and the sound of a pillow being put into a pillowcase. That pillow got put under my leg, and I drifted off again. The next time I "woke up" (I use that term very very loosely), I heard and felt the ice machine around my knee, and I drifted off again. The next time I was starting to shake and shiver and was absolutely freezing. I still hadn't opened my eyes (that I could remember), but I knew my knee hurt and I was shaking because I was so cold. One of the nurses came over and asked what was wrong (I might have made some noise, still no eyes open), and I chattered out "C-c-c-c-old", and she brought back some warm blankets from the blanket toaster and covered me up from the top of my head down to my feet. It helped a bit - I was still shivering - but I drifted off again. I have no idea how long I drifted off for each of these times. The next time I remember something, another nurse (a guy) was asking me how the pain was on a scale of 1-10, and I said 7 or 8. He came back with my first painkiller injection. He put it in and the shivering stopped and I relaxed and the pain was waaaaaay better. And, of course, I drifted off again. I had a rough time waking up this time around. I think at some point my breathing slowed down or was too shallow and the monitors started beeping, so he shook me awake and had me take a few deep breaths. I went back to sleep (shocker there), and when I woke up again, I actually opened my eyes - I was breathing really quickly and shallow because my knee hurt really bad. So he gave me another injection and I (take a wild guess) drifted off again, having relaxed and the pain getting better. We went through the same routine again with the monitors and the breathing, so this time he sat me up a little bit more, and I opened my eyes a little wider. The pain was better, but still definitely there. He offered me something to drink - at this point I noticed the clock and it was well after 6pm, about 4 hours since I'd been taken back to the OR. I managed to ask him how long I'd been in surgery, and he said from the paperwork it looked like 2 hours. Great - longer than the last surgery, even. Dang. He was not able to shed light on what exactly they had done, however, so I didn't know if I had a huge incision or not under all the bandages and ice machine pad - the pain led me to believe I did, but he couldn't tell me.
Sometime around 6:30pm he asked me if it was still hurting, and at what level. I told him it was down to a 3-4, so he said he'd give me a little more, and then we'd start getting me ready to go. One more injection, though not as strong or something different, because I didn't drift off too much. Around 7pm, he said it was time to get me up. So he took the IV out, took off all the monitors, disconnected the ice machine, and brought out a pair of crutches. Two other nurses came over to wheel the gurney over to the restroom along with my clothes so that I could go change. They helped me lower the leg off the bed - ow - and I hobbled into the bathroom. Business was taken care of, I dressed, and hobbled back out to find one of the reclining chairs waiting. The other nurse came back over and I turned and saw my dad standing over by where my bed had been when I woke up. The nurse went through all the discharge instructions with us, and then asked him to go get the car down in front. I was still totally zoned at this point, really not caring much about anything other than trying not to move my leg.
A tech wheeled me down in the wheelchair to the front door, helped me into the backseat, and we were off, headed home. I'm not sure why I was worried about rush hour - we didn't leave the hospital until about 7:15pm. With no traffic (though many unpleasant bumps thanks to California's awesome road conditions), we were home just around 8pm. I used the restroom and then planted myself on the couch, as you see me here. The ice machine was connected, Vicodin was taken, and I was out, hopefully for much of the night. Alas, that was not to be. For the first time in any of these surgeries, I was quite nauseous. While I didn't have to experience the end-stage of nausea, I wasn't too comfortable. Ugh.
Apparently Dr F didn't talk to my dad after the surgery, even though we'd indicated on the check-in form that we wanted him to, so we're not sure what he did in my knee - whatever it was, it HURTS. I see him for a post-op appointment tomorrow at 2pm. We'll see how another car ride to and from Stanford goes less than 24 hours after surgery.
Outside of the Town Hall theater on West 43rd Street in Manhattan, a crowd of smiling and optimistic people Friday overflowed into the one-way street. Delivery trucks and yellow taxi cabs creeped by, their engines engaged in a shouting match with Bennet Weiss, a man who bore a fleeting resemblance to the Democratic presidential candidate they were all there to support.
"We don't have billions of dollars! All we have are people wearing Bernie pins," Weiss yelled, a large black umbrella covered in Bernie Sanders campaign pins at his feet, catching drops of sweat from his brow. The Occupy Wall Street protester-turned-Sanders supporter urged the crowd to wear the pins at all times with no exception -- even in the shower -- and gave them away freely to anyone who said they didn't have enough cash to afford to pay the suggested donation.
That's the kind of populist support Sanders' campaign has steadily been attracting since the U.S. senator from Vermont formally announced his candidacy in late April. Friday was no exception, with passion-filled people who think Sanders has proved himself the worthy champion of causes they care about the most, such as income inequality, climate change, Wall Street reform and further healthcare reforms. But, perhaps most importantly, they also think he can win the White House.
"Absolutely" he can win, said Joe Trinolone, 30, a former finance industry worker from Long Island, New York, who is studying mathematics at St. Joseph's University. "I mean, he's winning right now."
Sanders, during a fundraising speech Friday, ticked through the policies he cares about and areas of change he wants to see in Washington should he become president. At each turn, his blend of outrage, optimism and sly sarcasm brought raucous cheers from the crowd of 1,100. He rejected recent Wall Street Journal criticism of the high price tag of his proposals, including making public colleges and universities free, lowering so-called real unemployment by pumping funding into infrastructure repairs for the nation’s roads and bridges and implementing a universal healthcare system.
Instead, he pointed to European nations that already have those programs. He implored the crowd to think about what many of them were already talking about: that taking on the big-money interests in the United States that impede those sorts of policy changes is a shared moral obligation.
“Welcome to the revolution,” Sanders said, describing what he believes must happen to American politics. “We can accomplish all of this and more.” And the crowd ate it up.
When asked why they support Sanders, many described his candidacy as a movement. They love his policies, and have a hard time thinking of much they don’t like about him. They especially like that he has been a consistent voice during his time in Washington. That’s a big perceived difference between Sanders and his Democratic rival Hillary Clinton. Those "feeling the Bern" were split on whether they would consider voting for her if she becomes the nominee. Many were newcomers to political action but felt compelled to join the fray when they heard Sanders and his message.
“I’ve never been excited about a politician my entire life,” said Meira Marom, 34, a Brooklyn third-grade teacher with a master's degree in creative writing. When Marom started seeing social media posts about Sanders and reading about him, she decided to stop focusing her personal time on writing for herself. She now writes and publishes something about Sanders every day -- Dr. Seuss themes every Sunday, poems and parodies. “I decided this is the most worthy cause to put my rhymes to use.”
Sanders has seen an unexpected rise in the polls since he joined the race for the Democratic nomination shortly after the current national front-runner Clinton announced her candidacy. While Sanders was trailing Clinton by 21.4 percent in national averages of polls compiled by Real Clear Politics, a look at early nominating states like Iowa and New Hampshire paints a different picture of vulnerability for Clinton and strength for Sanders.
The two candidates are tied in Iowa, which constitutes a dramatic drop for Clinton and an impressive surge for Sanders, who has been distancing himself from Clinton in New Hampshire at the top of the Democratic pack since Aug. 25, when he jumped past her in the state for the first time. He currently leads there by 10.5 points.
The candidates are noticeably different in many ways, from policy prescription to fundraising strategy.
Clinton has moved leftward since announcing her candidacy, but she is still threatened by the populist appeal of Sanders, who has long championed the causes that seem to be coming into grace for the Democratic Party. While the candidates currently hold some very similar positions on issues such as immigration reform, gay rights, gun control and campaign finance reform, Sanders has been able to stake out positions to the left of Clinton on other issues that excite some vocal voters.
Among them are his strong anti-war and anti-government surveillance positions as well as his distaste for President Barack Obama's Trans Pacific Partnership trade deal. Sanders also has been a vocal critic of Wall Street and champion of financial reforms, and his stance on those issues has drawn attention to Clinton's cozy relationship with Wall Street executives and the huge paychecks she has received for speeches to large banks since leaving the U.S. State Department. For some Sanders supporters, though, the perception that Sanders has been a consistent proponent of these liberal policies, and cares about them more than winning, is key.
“It’s the message that supporting Bernie Sanders is not just voting on a horse in the race” that attracts Brian Dillon, a 28-year-old self-employed Web designer and developer for e-commerce, said Friday. Dillon has voted just one time in his life, but he has been organizing meetings to drum up support for Sanders.
Sanders's fundraising portfolio also is the reverse of Clinton's. While the former secretary of state is expected to spend somewhere north of $1 billion should she win the primary and head into the general election for 2016, the same has not been said of Sanders. Currently, Clinton has raised, through her campaign committee and super PACs associated with the campaign, $47.5 million, according to data from the Center for Responsive Politics. Sanders, on the other hand, has raised just shy of $16.5 million, according to CRP data.
Their most startling difference in fundraising, however, can be seen in the size of the donations they're receiving. The Clinton campaign received 82 percent of its donations from large contributors, and her top industry donors, not including retired people, so far have been lawyers, business services and the financial industry.
In contrast, Sanders relies much more on small donations, which are defined as donations totaling $200 or less. So far, 69 percent of his contributions have come from small donors, and the biggest industries that have given to his campaign have been from the education, legal and healthcare sectors.
Who are those small donors? The types of people who showed up Friday. Some said they donate $25 to $30 a month to Sanders. Some said they have donated several hundred dollars since he jumped into the presidential race. Nearly all of them mentioned they don't earn a ton of money personally. One in particular, Machumu Sakulira, said he donated $500 before attending Friday’s event.
There is “no way” he would support a Clinton ticket, said Sakulira, a 31-year-old senior political science student at the University at Buffalo. He got on a bus Thursday night at 11 p.m. and arrived in New York at 7 a.m. for the Sanders speech. He said he was going back Friday night. “Bernie represents my interest. My vote is a moral choice, I don’t give it to somebody who doesn’t deserve it.”
www.ibtimes.com/election-2016-bernie-sanders-nyc-fundrais...
One meaning is "the feeling is hot like fire". The other is "It will take your heart for its main meal".
St.Valentain or any theme of romantic relationships is available as a print for cynics and lyrics.
And remember... Sarcasm is not always fair. Sometimes it is a sign of envy mostly. Be clever! Be happy!
Because the world is in such disarray,
My own concerns and problems seem petty.
While thousands of innocents are slaughtered each day,
Perhaps, for a little sarcasm, we're ready.
What better diversion from overwhelming sorrow.
What better escape from the horrors that befall us
Than to sarcastically predict things will be better tomorrow,
Or to fantasize that to a better place, a higher power will call us.
The glaciers in Iceland are melting at a pace
Not seen in hundreds of years.
The oceans are rising, as to the mountains, we race,
While raging storms feed into our fears.
Here comes a recession, another pandemic,
As illegal immigrants invade us,
While delusional people imagine some orange clown will appear
And somehow miraculously save us.
The answer, of course, is a brand new religion
With a savior with powers, fantastic--
Who will solve all our problems while we just bow our heads...
Yeah, that's right. I'm being sarcastic.
B. Kite -- 2/5/2024
2014 Steampunk Empire Symposium held at the Crowne Plaza Motel in the Blue Ash suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio. Thaddeus is the first Steampunker that I ever encountered and photographed, but my previous attempts were not of the quality I wanted. So, when I saw him this year, I asked if I could try again. He graciously cooperated and I think I did better. He and his lady came all the way down from Richmond, Indiana for the festivities.
Thaddeus T. Venture holds the position of Master of Sarcasm as a member of Airship Passepartout out of Dayton, Ohio.
You'll never see the man again who sat across from you better to look away.
True but not always. I laughed in my head when I read this at Dundalk station shortly after disembarking.
This is actually part of a small railway museum at the station. I went in later when I came back from the day excursion in Dundalk, Carlingford and Templetown.
xxxxxx
Flickr is a great platform to make friends. Several years ago I became connected with Neill. When my plan to visit Ireland bacme more concrete, I made enquiry to see if Neill would like to meet with his nerdy Canadian friend. By this time we'd known each other quite well and both felt comfortable meeting for a drink, meal or walk. And this is why I made the journey up north to Dundalk in County Louth, right along the Republic-N.I. border.
People often ask "How has this economic crisis affected you". Instead of explaining, might be easier to visualize with a graph. Before graduating from University, I had never been to any concert in life. And then, the concert mania started in Montreal in 2007. For Nov 07 to Oct 08, the frequency had risen to 1 concert per 10 days. But then came the economic depression of 08. which taught a few lessons in savings, hence a big dip. No bailouts for me :(
Note to self: Do post photos of previous concerts and shows
July to Oct - 7 Shows
Phil Collins & Genesis, Sting & The Police, Daft Punk, Russel Peters (Comic), Seth MacFarlane (Comic - Family Guy), Nadia Ali & iiO, Colin Mochrie & Brad Sherwood (Whose Line Is It Anyway)
Nov to Feb - 10 Shows
Bon Jovi, Van Halen, Linkin Park, Trans Siberian Orchestra, Paul Van Dyk, Spice Girls, Vanessa Carlton, Marie Mae, DJ Shadow, Bobby McFerrin
March to June - 9 Shows
Kanye West, Bruce Springsteen, Foo Fighters, Avril Lavigne, Al Gore, Santana, Billy Joel, The Cure, Deep Dish
July to Oct - 15 Shows
Coldplay, Madonna, Backstreet Boys, George Michael, Celine Dion, Simple Plan, Sheryl Crow, Blue Man Group, Alanis Morissette, Lenny Kravitz, Bran Van 3000, Leonard Cohen Tribute, Comics -> Greg Proops & Ryan Stiles (Whose Line Is It Anyway), Tom Papa, Slava, Omid Djalili
Nov to Feb - Only 2 concerts :(
Duran Duran, Sara Bareilles
p.s. I should have included the sarcasm tags
How long til this typography fad passes over?
Still, pretty easy to replicate which is good for me.
Listening to: Eye of Babylon - Earth Crisis
Mako is a master of sarcasm. When I wake him up he actually rolls his eyes and sighs at me!
This is me:
Kristen the Dancing Dogwalker
I work here:
Doggy Lama!
Here we are at the train tracks, waiting vainly for a train to move its "non-caboose" off the tracks. The conductor parked the freight train on the tracks as is often done for a break or whatever. It was quite the Behemoth of a freight train, larger than usual! Generally they park the "vehicle" well down the tracks and do not hog the only way to get by. Interrupting the flow of traffic does not win friends and every one had to find another way to get to their destinations. One man had stopped to film the trains passing by and found this "bonus" for his footage - A Train-In-The-Butt! "I didn't expect this!" he exclaimed. True, but then, no one else did either, much to our chagrin. It was around 4:40 p.m., Tuesday, March 22 on Carroll Road, Smiths Falls, Ontario, Canada . A Training Exercise? Exercise in Futility? Resistance Is Futile? A Borg Train to Nowhere?! Only The Conductor Knows For Sure! Tell us, we would Love To Know :The Reason For This?! It didn't "break down", eh?
No dark sarcasm in the class room
Teachers leave those Baboons alone
Hey, teachers! Leave those Baboons alone!
All in all, it's just a
Nother brick in the wall.
Photo: All rights reserved.
Outside of the Town Hall theater on West 43rd Street in Manhattan, a crowd of smiling and optimistic people Friday overflowed into the one-way street. Delivery trucks and yellow taxi cabs creeped by, their engines engaged in a shouting match with Bennet Weiss, a man who bore a fleeting resemblance to the Democratic presidential candidate they were all there to support.
"We don't have billions of dollars! All we have are people wearing Bernie pins," Weiss yelled, a large black umbrella covered in Bernie Sanders campaign pins at his feet, catching drops of sweat from his brow. The Occupy Wall Street protester-turned-Sanders supporter urged the crowd to wear the pins at all times with no exception -- even in the shower -- and gave them away freely to anyone who said they didn't have enough cash to afford to pay the suggested donation.
That's the kind of populist support Sanders' campaign has steadily been attracting since the U.S. senator from Vermont formally announced his candidacy in late April. Friday was no exception, with passion-filled people who think Sanders has proved himself the worthy champion of causes they care about the most, such as income inequality, climate change, Wall Street reform and further healthcare reforms. But, perhaps most importantly, they also think he can win the White House.
"Absolutely" he can win, said Joe Trinolone, 30, a former finance industry worker from Long Island, New York, who is studying mathematics at St. Joseph's University. "I mean, he's winning right now."
Sanders, during a fundraising speech Friday, ticked through the policies he cares about and areas of change he wants to see in Washington should he become president. At each turn, his blend of outrage, optimism and sly sarcasm brought raucous cheers from the crowd of 1,100. He rejected recent Wall Street Journal criticism of the high price tag of his proposals, including making public colleges and universities free, lowering so-called real unemployment by pumping funding into infrastructure repairs for the nation’s roads and bridges and implementing a universal healthcare system.
Instead, he pointed to European nations that already have those programs. He implored the crowd to think about what many of them were already talking about: that taking on the big-money interests in the United States that impede those sorts of policy changes is a shared moral obligation.
“Welcome to the revolution,” Sanders said, describing what he believes must happen to American politics. “We can accomplish all of this and more.” And the crowd ate it up.
When asked why they support Sanders, many described his candidacy as a movement. They love his policies, and have a hard time thinking of much they don’t like about him. They especially like that he has been a consistent voice during his time in Washington. That’s a big perceived difference between Sanders and his Democratic rival Hillary Clinton. Those "feeling the Bern" were split on whether they would consider voting for her if she becomes the nominee. Many were newcomers to political action but felt compelled to join the fray when they heard Sanders and his message.
“I’ve never been excited about a politician my entire life,” said Meira Marom, 34, a Brooklyn third-grade teacher with a master's degree in creative writing. When Marom started seeing social media posts about Sanders and reading about him, she decided to stop focusing her personal time on writing for herself. She now writes and publishes something about Sanders every day -- Dr. Seuss themes every Sunday, poems and parodies. “I decided this is the most worthy cause to put my rhymes to use.”
Sanders has seen an unexpected rise in the polls since he joined the race for the Democratic nomination shortly after the current national front-runner Clinton announced her candidacy. While Sanders was trailing Clinton by 21.4 percent in national averages of polls compiled by Real Clear Politics, a look at early nominating states like Iowa and New Hampshire paints a different picture of vulnerability for Clinton and strength for Sanders.
The two candidates are tied in Iowa, which constitutes a dramatic drop for Clinton and an impressive surge for Sanders, who has been distancing himself from Clinton in New Hampshire at the top of the Democratic pack since Aug. 25, when he jumped past her in the state for the first time. He currently leads there by 10.5 points.
The candidates are noticeably different in many ways, from policy prescription to fundraising strategy.
Clinton has moved leftward since announcing her candidacy, but she is still threatened by the populist appeal of Sanders, who has long championed the causes that seem to be coming into grace for the Democratic Party. While the candidates currently hold some very similar positions on issues such as immigration reform, gay rights, gun control and campaign finance reform, Sanders has been able to stake out positions to the left of Clinton on other issues that excite some vocal voters.
Among them are his strong anti-war and anti-government surveillance positions as well as his distaste for President Barack Obama's Trans Pacific Partnership trade deal. Sanders also has been a vocal critic of Wall Street and champion of financial reforms, and his stance on those issues has drawn attention to Clinton's cozy relationship with Wall Street executives and the huge paychecks she has received for speeches to large banks since leaving the U.S. State Department. For some Sanders supporters, though, the perception that Sanders has been a consistent proponent of these liberal policies, and cares about them more than winning, is key.
“It’s the message that supporting Bernie Sanders is not just voting on a horse in the race” that attracts Brian Dillon, a 28-year-old self-employed Web designer and developer for e-commerce, said Friday. Dillon has voted just one time in his life, but he has been organizing meetings to drum up support for Sanders.
Sanders's fundraising portfolio also is the reverse of Clinton's. While the former secretary of state is expected to spend somewhere north of $1 billion should she win the primary and head into the general election for 2016, the same has not been said of Sanders. Currently, Clinton has raised, through her campaign committee and super PACs associated with the campaign, $47.5 million, according to data from the Center for Responsive Politics. Sanders, on the other hand, has raised just shy of $16.5 million, according to CRP data.
Their most startling difference in fundraising, however, can be seen in the size of the donations they're receiving. The Clinton campaign received 82 percent of its donations from large contributors, and her top industry donors, not including retired people, so far have been lawyers, business services and the financial industry.
In contrast, Sanders relies much more on small donations, which are defined as donations totaling $200 or less. So far, 69 percent of his contributions have come from small donors, and the biggest industries that have given to his campaign have been from the education, legal and healthcare sectors.
Who are those small donors? The types of people who showed up Friday. Some said they donate $25 to $30 a month to Sanders. Some said they have donated several hundred dollars since he jumped into the presidential race. Nearly all of them mentioned they don't earn a ton of money personally. One in particular, Machumu Sakulira, said he donated $500 before attending Friday’s event.
There is “no way” he would support a Clinton ticket, said Sakulira, a 31-year-old senior political science student at the University at Buffalo. He got on a bus Thursday night at 11 p.m. and arrived in New York at 7 a.m. for the Sanders speech. He said he was going back Friday night. “Bernie represents my interest. My vote is a moral choice, I don’t give it to somebody who doesn’t deserve it.”
www.ibtimes.com/election-2016-bernie-sanders-nyc-fundrais...
Just my opinion: What’s up with Charlie The Tuna. Here’s this eyesight impaired mutant talking fish pimping out the deliciousness of his own kind. “Come over here bipedal top of the food chain life form, come, eat my people. It’s OK, we’ll make more.” Under the guise that StarKist’s fish are of such impeccable character that mutant yammering nerd-spec wearing Charlie doesn’t meet their high standards of death for me to smear him on a cracker. Charlie’s in on the game and granted Tuna immortality to keep the people eating his mute and otherwise non-communicating brothers and sisters. What kind of sick bastard is that?
— just kidding
— satire
— sarcasm
This stuff is actually delicious. It also comes with a mint to kill the “tuna breath”. I keep one or two of these handy at the office as emergency food.
EDIT: The next day I see this
www.mbtmag.com/home/news/21104330/exbumble-bee-ceo-convic...
Tuna collusion!
We don't need no education
We dont need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave the kids alone
Pink Floyd - Another Brick In The Wall
_____
Sé que la calidad no es muy buena, ya que las fotos las hice con una compacta, pero me apetecía subir alguna. Creo que lo que importa en este caso es el mensaje, el sentimiento que todos vivimos la noche del sábado. El espectáculo de The Wall fue algo que no tenemos la oportunidad de ver todos los días y me siento afortunada de haber podido asistir, así que lo quiero compartir con vosotros :) Fue memorable, no tengo palabras.
_____
Crónica del show: daisiesofgalaxy.blogspot.com/2011/03/is-there-anybody-out...
Welkom vanuit Sin City, na een plezante vlucht met weinig turbulentie – behalve de werkelijk niet leuke afdaling – netjes op tijd gearriveerd met Virgin America, aan te raden voor reizen hier, erg netjes en luxe voor de prijs, uiteraard duurder dan Ryanair ed. maar wat wil je… vanuit de lucht zag ik mijn hotel al liggen en de strip is eigenlijk het enige hoge in dit hele gebied… bied perspectief voor de rest van de stad – dit als sarcasme opvatten aub – shuttlebus genomen, toch maar een stuk goedkoper dan een taxi, $10 voor een rit van, wat zal het geweest zijn, 7 tot 8 kilometer of zo, mij hoor je niet klagen, rit duurde overigens wel meer dan een half uur, want de stoplichten staan heel eenkennig afgesteld hier, als je mag rijden, dan mag je ook minutenlang blijven rijden, dus de andere straten toch wel even wachten, ook wel weer goed, want officieel niet inchecken voor 3 ’s middags en ik kwam om 1 aan…
Het enige echte nadeel was, in Frisco was het een graad of 11 vanochtend, vannacht had ik erg veel last van de kou, niet geïsoleerd pand en enkele beglazing recht boven je bed en een enkel ruitje in de badkamer… een graad of 8 buiten… reken je winst maar uit… en dan naar het vliegveld gaan, jas aan dus… in het vliegtuig is een jas een zegen met de airco en dan kom je hier… in een graad of 40… met je jas aan, want waar moet je die in hemelsnaam laten… de loopbrug van vliegtuig naar gebouw was al airco gekoeld… vliegveld zelf was dat ook, busje hierheen ook en het hotel ook… weinig meegemaakt van de 40 graden. Het hele hotel is geïsoleerd… dubbele beglazing en alles, airco bij mijn tafeltje, naast mijn zithoek (klinkt groter dan dat het is, zeker beide tafeltjes), stond op 70 (21 nog-wat Celcius) graden, maar even naar 74 gezet… die je tenminste mee aan de besparing van energie in het hotel, al is met maar 0.000001%, en buiten dat, 70 graden is gewoon te weinig… thuis probeer ik het altijd op te stoken naar zo’n 76/77 en in Los Angeles stond deze zo ook…
Ik had werkelijk niet echt een gedachte bij Vegas anders dan dat het een stad was die vergeven was van de gokapparatuur en de poker en andere te vaak verliezen tafels… vergeven in een muffe omgeving omdat niemand het werkelijk ene zak kan interesseren hoe het er uit ziet als ze maar het idee hebben te kunnen winnen… klinkt toch plausibel. Helaas, of beter gelukkig, is Vegas aan de stip werkelijk een gigantisch mooie stad, übercommercieel uiteraard, extreem veel toeristen, want wie in deze stad woont gaat echt niet gokken, die lijken allemaal te werken om de gokkers van alle gemakken te voorzien. Als je aankomt op het vliegveld, wordt je achter de douane, voor een overstap of omdat je nog meer kans wil maken om te winnen… begroet door een set fruitautomaten, en ‘little Las Vegas’ begint… om het daarbuiten nog eens dunnetjes in groot formaat over te doen.
De straat is breed, niet zo breed als in Los Angeles – 14 lanen is ook lastig te overtreffen – en heeft overal een mooie groenige – nadruk op groenig, want de stad is bijna 40 graden overdag en net onder de 30 ’s nachts – strook in het midden die de lanen van elkaar scheid. Het ene hotel is nog imposanter dan de andere en de mijne ligt helemaal onderaan aan de strip – zuidzijde – zodat ik lekker veel te lopen heb en mijn tijd goed kan verdoen hier, met kijken alleen lijkt het me al redelijk te gaan lukken, het is zo’n grote waanzin… by the way, toen ik dit typte vloog er net iemand langs mijn raam, zelfmoord aan een elastisch koordje heet dat, je betaalt er alleen wel een Godsvermogen voor als je niet in dit hotel overnacht.
$15,95 om de toren in te mogen en dan nog het springen van maar liefst $99,99… dat ga ik dus niet eens over peinzen of ik zo iets zou willen… de entree tot de toren is gratis voor hotelgasten en dat is me al de overnachting in dit hotel al waard zo ongeveer… blijft nog steeds de hoogste vrijstaande constructie ten westen van de Mississippi… waar je in kan, een radiotoren werkt niet echt… het heeft nota bene een 360 graden observatiedek, met helaas wel de nodige stellages ertussen, maar je kan je er op twee niveaus observeren; achter glas en in de open lucht, helaas voor het uiteraard benodigde hekwerk is het panoramisch uitzicht wat lastig op de foto te zetten. Daarnaast hebben ze ook nog een paar attracties op het dak, waarvan zelfs de liftbediende moest toegeven dat ze hier wel absurd veel energie in proppen en dat het toch eigenlijk wel van de zotte is hoeveel er voor nodig is om dit voor mekaar te krijgen… maar ieder weldenkend mens weet dit… hopelijk…
Mijn hotelkamer in Los Angeles (Hawthorne) was groot… een vierkante meter of 30, gokje, enorm netjes en per ongeluk ‘verkeerd’ geboekt waardoor in een kamer met kingsize (andere optie was 2 queensize, en waarvoor heb ik er 2 nodig?) met ontbijt… kennelijk kwam dat neer op de executive leisure suite voor de prijs van een normale kamer… niets te klagen… San Francisco was een kamer van formaatje claustro… het ging allemaal op zich wel en het wende, voor een enkele overnachting is het wel oké, maar na vier nachten wil je daar gewoon weg, maar wel in downtown, dus op perfecte loopafstand van… alles eigenlijk. Hier in dit hotel zijn de kamers ook ‘relatief’ klein, een begrip in Vegas dat betekend dat als je een kamer hebt van 25m2 je ‘krap’ zit… sommige mensen ook… maar wie gaat er dan ook klagen voor $20 per nacht?
Omdat de prijzen zo laag waren heb ik maar besloten om een ruimere kamer te boeken, what the hell, hoe vaak kom je in Vegas… en nog steeds voor praktisch de helft van de prijs van Los Angeles – die was al niet duur – een nog grotere kamer… met… panoramisch uitzicht over de strip aan de noordzijde… dus de zijde waar alle actie is… de kamer heeft alleen wel een vreemde vorm omdat het hotel een paar knikken heeft, maar het is wel een betonnen gebouw, alle vloeren breedplaten en een aantal wanden van beton, één ervan is in mijn hotelkamer, de andere kant is opvul, geen idee wat de beukmaat is, heb wel een kolos van een kolom in de kamer staan, toch wel een halve meter breed en heb gezien van een aantal hotels onder constructie dat beton gebruiken niet ongebruikelijk is met gebouwen van dit formaat, misschien leren ze het nog wel…
Nog een huishoudelijke tip, – kan best dat ik deze al heb gegeven, heb geen motivatie om dit na te zoeken, heb wel wat beters te doen – kraanwater is drinkbaar en geeft je geen ‘Wraak van Montezuma’ (zoek zelf maar op, leekt me de netste benaming), maar het is gewoon g(l)oor eigenlijk, drink zonder door je neus te ademen en drink er in dezelfde slok iets anders achter aan zodat je het niet proeft… frisdranken in de Mac, maar ook het glas water wat je in een restaurant er standaard bij krijgt (of anders de ijsblokjes erin als het water eens een keer goed is) smaken ernaar. Ik heb nog nooit zo’n gore Fanta gehad als in een van de eettentjes… chloorfanta, als natuurlijke tandwhitener naast de tandpasta te grbruiken… alle plaque in een slok gelijk weer weg… koop flessenwater en ben iets duurder uit… is misschien minder voor de portemonnee maar wel een stuk lekkerder, en het moet toch wel gezonder zijn lijkt me…
De Fanta in flessen is beter te beoordelen en is een stuk zoeter, en oranje in plaats van geel… buiten dat is het vrijwel hetzelfde. Kijk als je hier bent wel uit voor de Mentos, de variant uit Breda is minder zoet en iets harder dan de variant uit Brazilie (voor dezelfde geproduceerd uiteraard) de Braziliaanse verpakking is ook minder net geprint en zijn zachter maar zoeter… wat je prefereert uiteraard. Vreemd genoeg is het Bredase rolletje nog steeds bijna helemaal vol… voor de rest is het eten over het algemeen erg smakelijk… of overdadig als je Nederlands spul gewend bent. Nog niet eerder zulke stevige sla gehad als degene van hier, het knarste gewoon en het zal wel wennen zijn om het goed te eten, want van relatief smaakloos eten (volgens de Australische uitwisselingsstudenten lag het aan de producten in Nederland, weinig variatie en evenredig weinig smaak… alleen een Unox worst leekt er een beetje op) tot aan zo veel smaak is het wel een cultuurshock te noemen en daarbij je krijgt gewoon veel.
In het Italiaanse restaurant was het ook leuk, bij aankomst lijkt het een klein stukje dat zo vol zit, daarachter blijken dus verschillende zalen te zijn die ieder hun eigen ‘sfeer’ hebben om geen massaconsumptiegevoelens op te wekken, en voor de bedienden is het makkelijker om zo makkelijker ‘hun’ tafels te beheren… want iedereen heeft een eigen zaal. Italiaans restaurant in Las Vegas betekend ook een bijpassend entourage, dus een grote muurschildering van de Spaanse Trappen (denk ik, zo bekend ben ik nu ook weer niet met Rome) de andere wanden waren opgebouwd met een stuclaag (wederom waarschijnlijk) om een idee van een muur na te bootsen… en ja, in een muur horen ook ramen… dus prop je er gewoon verschillende echte ramen in, met bijpassende balkons en plastic planten, want als er niets achter zit is water geven ook wat lastig. Die lui hier weten echt wel wat vermaak is…
In het hotel is een casino… duh… van groot, ik wist me al kwijt te lopen en dat is maar 1 vloer. Daarnaast heb je de toren met al diens voorzieningen, groot. Daarnaast heb je 6 (!) restaurants, IN het hotel, dus naast het Italiaanse, het is groot. Kleine souvenir en supermarktcombinaties (grote term voor wat het is), verschillende bars, cafés kledingwinkels, wat je kan bedenken, IN het hotel, groot(!). En dan heb ik nog niet eens het hele hotel gehad met lopen… twee zwembaden, spa etc. groot… de buurt scheen op internet vermeld in reviews niet echt lekker te zijn, ik moet toegeven dat rondom de andere hotels het er wel iets netter uit zag, een paar panden waarvan ik zo mijn twijfels had in de omgeving, – het zelfde type was ook in Los Angeles, daar leken het wel verloederde uitzetcentra (sorry hiervoor, maar zo zagen ze er echt uit) – maar een omgeving waar je echt niet wilde komen… nee… het is allemaal best wel oké hier… de mindere bebouwing blijkt het een motel te zijn… ik heb alles wat ik nodig heb hier in het hotel voor ’s avonds, zelfs een Starbucks… dus… ja… ik overleef het wel.
Sin City doet zijn naam wel goed eer aan, grote billboards van weinig geklede vrouwen – op z’n tijd weergegeven met een zwart balkje of iets dergelijks, om te zorgen dat er geen overtreding gemaakt wordt met de censuur wegens dat onder de 21 je hier niets mag zien en ze anders aangeklaagd kunnen worden wegens schade berokkenen aan hun minderjarigen… mijn tip is neem ze gewoon niet mee naar Vegas of wacht totdat ze oud genoeg zijn… het is een circus die je niet mag missen… alles kost geld, dus negeer zoveel mogelijk en zorg dat je alles doet wat geen geld kost…
Kijken is gratis… op de meeste plekken dan… blijft Sin City natuurlijk… in de openbare ruimte kijken is toch wel veilig voor de portemonnee te noemen. En als je dan door zo’n casino rondloopt en alle goed doorbloede ogen ziet gefixeerd op de gokkasten en vast gekampt zitten omdat ze ergens toch wel iets moeten winnen, weet je zeker dat je in Vegas bent op zijn meest stereotype uitvoering. Aan een aantal goktafels, iets met kaarten dacht ik, stonden stoeipoesjes in kleine broekjes, erg diepe – waarschijnlijk veel opgepompte, leek het wel op – decolletés, verhult in een lapje stof gewikkeld om een beha, en een set zwarte laarzen eronder om het af te maken, mannen te verleiden om nóg meer geld uit te geven dan ze al deden in de kasten of bij de andere verlies… sorry, kansspellen door net nog even verder voorover te bukken om ze toch maar over te halen te gaan spelen… Welcome to Vegas!
"We don’t need no education
We don’t need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the classroom
Teachers leave them kids alone
Hey! Teacher! Leave them kids alone!
All in all it’s just another brick in the wall
All in all you’re just another brick in the wall"
Another Brick in the Wall – Pink Floyd
Another view out our kitchen window.
My wife and i are in the process of moving back to this apartment in Park Slope where we lived back in the 1970's when our children were very young. Now of course, it is just my wife and me, as our children are grown, each with a child of their own. In addition, I grew up as a child in this building (I have lived in each of the three apartments over the years), so I have made a full circle and returned home.
Outside of the Town Hall theater on West 43rd Street in Manhattan, a crowd of smiling and optimistic people Friday overflowed into the one-way street. Delivery trucks and yellow taxi cabs creeped by, their engines engaged in a shouting match with Bennet Weiss, a man who bore a fleeting resemblance to the Democratic presidential candidate they were all there to support.
"We don't have billions of dollars! All we have are people wearing Bernie pins," Weiss yelled, a large black umbrella covered in Bernie Sanders campaign pins at his feet, catching drops of sweat from his brow. The Occupy Wall Street protester-turned-Sanders supporter urged the crowd to wear the pins at all times with no exception -- even in the shower -- and gave them away freely to anyone who said they didn't have enough cash to afford to pay the suggested donation.
That's the kind of populist support Sanders' campaign has steadily been attracting since the U.S. senator from Vermont formally announced his candidacy in late April. Friday was no exception, with passion-filled people who think Sanders has proved himself the worthy champion of causes they care about the most, such as income inequality, climate change, Wall Street reform and further healthcare reforms. But, perhaps most importantly, they also think he can win the White House.
"Absolutely" he can win, said Joe Trinolone, 30, a former finance industry worker from Long Island, New York, who is studying mathematics at St. Joseph's University. "I mean, he's winning right now."
Sanders, during a fundraising speech Friday, ticked through the policies he cares about and areas of change he wants to see in Washington should he become president. At each turn, his blend of outrage, optimism and sly sarcasm brought raucous cheers from the crowd of 1,100. He rejected recent Wall Street Journal criticism of the high price tag of his proposals, including making public colleges and universities free, lowering so-called real unemployment by pumping funding into infrastructure repairs for the nation’s roads and bridges and implementing a universal healthcare system.
Instead, he pointed to European nations that already have those programs. He implored the crowd to think about what many of them were already talking about: that taking on the big-money interests in the United States that impede those sorts of policy changes is a shared moral obligation.
“Welcome to the revolution,” Sanders said, describing what he believes must happen to American politics. “We can accomplish all of this and more.” And the crowd ate it up.
When asked why they support Sanders, many described his candidacy as a movement. They love his policies, and have a hard time thinking of much they don’t like about him. They especially like that he has been a consistent voice during his time in Washington. That’s a big perceived difference between Sanders and his Democratic rival Hillary Clinton. Those "feeling the Bern" were split on whether they would consider voting for her if she becomes the nominee. Many were newcomers to political action but felt compelled to join the fray when they heard Sanders and his message.
“I’ve never been excited about a politician my entire life,” said Meira Marom, 34, a Brooklyn third-grade teacher with a master's degree in creative writing. When Marom started seeing social media posts about Sanders and reading about him, she decided to stop focusing her personal time on writing for herself. She now writes and publishes something about Sanders every day -- Dr. Seuss themes every Sunday, poems and parodies. “I decided this is the most worthy cause to put my rhymes to use.”
Sanders has seen an unexpected rise in the polls since he joined the race for the Democratic nomination shortly after the current national front-runner Clinton announced her candidacy. While Sanders was trailing Clinton by 21.4 percent in national averages of polls compiled by Real Clear Politics, a look at early nominating states like Iowa and New Hampshire paints a different picture of vulnerability for Clinton and strength for Sanders.
The two candidates are tied in Iowa, which constitutes a dramatic drop for Clinton and an impressive surge for Sanders, who has been distancing himself from Clinton in New Hampshire at the top of the Democratic pack since Aug. 25, when he jumped past her in the state for the first time. He currently leads there by 10.5 points.
The candidates are noticeably different in many ways, from policy prescription to fundraising strategy.
Clinton has moved leftward since announcing her candidacy, but she is still threatened by the populist appeal of Sanders, who has long championed the causes that seem to be coming into grace for the Democratic Party. While the candidates currently hold some very similar positions on issues such as immigration reform, gay rights, gun control and campaign finance reform, Sanders has been able to stake out positions to the left of Clinton on other issues that excite some vocal voters.
Among them are his strong anti-war and anti-government surveillance positions as well as his distaste for President Barack Obama's Trans Pacific Partnership trade deal. Sanders also has been a vocal critic of Wall Street and champion of financial reforms, and his stance on those issues has drawn attention to Clinton's cozy relationship with Wall Street executives and the huge paychecks she has received for speeches to large banks since leaving the U.S. State Department. For some Sanders supporters, though, the perception that Sanders has been a consistent proponent of these liberal policies, and cares about them more than winning, is key.
“It’s the message that supporting Bernie Sanders is not just voting on a horse in the race” that attracts Brian Dillon, a 28-year-old self-employed Web designer and developer for e-commerce, said Friday. Dillon has voted just one time in his life, but he has been organizing meetings to drum up support for Sanders.
Sanders's fundraising portfolio also is the reverse of Clinton's. While the former secretary of state is expected to spend somewhere north of $1 billion should she win the primary and head into the general election for 2016, the same has not been said of Sanders. Currently, Clinton has raised, through her campaign committee and super PACs associated with the campaign, $47.5 million, according to data from the Center for Responsive Politics. Sanders, on the other hand, has raised just shy of $16.5 million, according to CRP data.
Their most startling difference in fundraising, however, can be seen in the size of the donations they're receiving. The Clinton campaign received 82 percent of its donations from large contributors, and her top industry donors, not including retired people, so far have been lawyers, business services and the financial industry.
In contrast, Sanders relies much more on small donations, which are defined as donations totaling $200 or less. So far, 69 percent of his contributions have come from small donors, and the biggest industries that have given to his campaign have been from the education, legal and healthcare sectors.
Who are those small donors? The types of people who showed up Friday. Some said they donate $25 to $30 a month to Sanders. Some said they have donated several hundred dollars since he jumped into the presidential race. Nearly all of them mentioned they don't earn a ton of money personally. One in particular, Machumu Sakulira, said he donated $500 before attending Friday’s event.
There is “no way” he would support a Clinton ticket, said Sakulira, a 31-year-old senior political science student at the University at Buffalo. He got on a bus Thursday night at 11 p.m. and arrived in New York at 7 a.m. for the Sanders speech. He said he was going back Friday night. “Bernie represents my interest. My vote is a moral choice, I don’t give it to somebody who doesn’t deserve it.”
www.ibtimes.com/election-2016-bernie-sanders-nyc-fundrais...