Just had to fool around a little…Had to mention this and that:
A group of top state judges has made a rare plea to the Supreme Court, urging it to reject a legal theory pressed by Republicans that would give state legislatures extraordinary power, Adam Liptak writes in nytimes.
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I find myself eagerly awaiting the unauthorized biography of Anthony Bourdain, although I usually hate books with sad endings. (I usually read the last page first in order to avoid sad endings, but I liked what I knew of him and was already saddened by his demise.)
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I hope none of DeSantis’ spending of $1.3 billion towards vouchers diverted from Public Schools taps into the money already spent on the forced immigrant plane trips north!
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The library poetry writing group I have been in since its inception much more than ten years ago has resumed going out to lunch together. We happen to be liberals (I still don’t think MAGA folks can hear their muse), and after sharing some experiences in life earlier, our black waitress who had overheard our conversation joined us in the conversation. (I still don’t know the proper way to say that. Black individual? Woman? Person of color?) Anyway, it was a great experience. I won’t say what restaurant so she won’t get in trouble for taking the time “away from her duties”). We’re all non-racists, of course, and all of us lunching together are over seventy.
A reminder: It’s my opinion that the main problem America is facing is a direct result of the Supreme Court’s Citizens United vs. Federal Election Commission (FEC) decision in 2010 that political spending is a form of free speech that’s protected under the First Amendment. The controversial 5-4 decision effectively opened the door for corporations and unions to spend unlimited amounts of money to support their chosen political candidates, provided they were technically independent of the campaigns themselves. The corporations, being more monetarily influential than unions, of course, had the advantage over unions and the majority of our population. Thus, corporations gained the rights of individual citizens, but with more power to influence elections A poem at that time by fellow writing member Patricia Black is re-printed courtesy of Patricia L.H. Black, plhb222@hotmail.com :
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WHAT’S WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE
I met some corporations and
because I had a hunch they had
all been adjudged “persons,”
I invited one to lunch.
Oh, that naughty corporation!
As far as I could see,
it had not been taught its manners—
I got no R, S, V nor P.
But since I was the hostess
I had duties to perform,
though this corporation person
was so outside the norm
that making up the place cards
put my thinking to the test—
could I just write General
and forget about the rest?
And since Incorporated is so very long,
tell me what you think—
would it be uncouth of me
if all I wrote was Inc.?
Then, again, there’s gender
to complicate my tale.
Is corporation female
or is corporation male?
Somehow it seems that neither
is appropriate or will fit.
But it goes against my training
to call a person “It.”
Well, I had invited it
so I assigned it to a seat.
Now I had a problem—
What do corporations eat?
Was it carnivorous or vegan?
Lactose intolerant?
Some persons can eat seafood
while other persons can’t.
There were peanuts to consider
and corn syrup issues, too.
If I fed this so-called person eggs
would it suddenly turn blue?
What a jolt at lunch time
when the corporation knocked!
When the door was opened
I was shocked, I tell you, shocked!
I’m used to thinking “person”
as my neighbor or my dad
but I was sorely disabused
of all such thoughts I might have had.
There were janitors, clerks and typists,
lawyers up to you know where,
receptionists and file clerks
and scientists to spare;
there were bricks-and-mortar buildings
from here to Timbuktu;
fleets of trucks and warehouses,
the list just grew and grew!
Shareholders by the gazillions,
ships, public and private planes,
mortgage-holding entities
and miles and miles of trains.
There were CEO’s and CFO’s
and all sorts of other O’s.
How this “person” would fit
my dining room
the Supreme Court only knows.
Although jolly, the impetous behind the poem is a tragic matter, in my opinion.