Mr. Wonderful Explains Current Events
Remember the Phoenix Lights of March 13th, 1997? The supposed triangular shaped craft that noiselessly floated over the Valley of the Sun? Now Advanced Technology Group has proposed that their SkyCat® global freight airships will someday compete with ocean going freighters. With a design on the drawing board depicting a three football fields long, twenty five story high craft, these 21st century dirigibles are both immense and silent. "Immense and silent," similar to references made by eye witnesses to the Phoenix Lights. Remember the SR-71 Blackbird spy-plane developed in the late 1950s and in the year 2001 still the holder of various speed and altitude records? I believe that our military continues to hold a forty year edge in R&D over its civilian counterparts and that these so named Phoenix Lights may well have been a by-product of that four decade lead.
Jason Kidd, confirmed wife beater, indicted and scheduled for trial by the Town of Paradise Valley, received applause as he walked on to the basketball court last night at the Phoenix 'Purple Palace.' Do you understand that this finely tuned 6 foot 4 inch professional athlete, signed to a contract of $54,000,000 with the Phoenix Sun's, hit his wife during an argument over his poaching McDonald's french fries from his child? Do you understand the level of sophistication, the level of personal control Mr.Kidd has revealed with this incident? His risking a lifestyle very few will ever achieve and risking jail time, fighting over french fries, says a lot about Mr.Kidd. French fries? so much for the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, eh? I remember years ago when his cocaine addiction was exposed, actor Stacy Keach, at the top of the network Prime Time heap, was shamed into leaving the country over it. And today, we have a professional athlete, who could surely kill with his bare hands, receive applause just one week after smacking his wife so hard that she called in the police! He slammed her so hard that she flew all the way from
Estrella Mountain Ranch into the kitchen of their Town of Paradise Valley home.
Last Thursday as I was patiently waiting in traffic, southbound on Highway 51, the Squaw Peak Freeway, somewhere north of Glendale Avenue, I began to ponder a quandary. Here I was sitting in a twelve mile long train of traffic. Why? Because government has a monstrous monopoly on the designing, constructing and maintaining of our freeways. And since they possess said monopoly and even though they use the tax dollars ripped from the wallets of those stalled on the government byways (that have not changed in design very much since Adolph Hitler imagined them) who is to blame for traffic jams? We are! We, the citizens who fund these freeways are at fault, not because of the one dimensional designs and the majestic progress of federal highway construction, but because just too damn many of us insist on the comfort, convenience, timeliness and security of driving our own vehicles!
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Heard about the invention of the century, termed "IT?" "IT" or "Ginger" has been described as "alternative to products that are dirty, expensive, sometimes dangerous, and often frustrating, especially for people in the cities." According to reports, Jeff Bezos of Amazon.com, Steve Jobs of Apple Computer and venture capitalist John Doerr have seen two prototypes assembled in ten minutes and ready to ... what? Dean Kamen, the inventor of the revolutionary iBot, a wheelchair that can climb stairs, chose the code name "Fred" for that invention in reference to Fred Astair and Ginger Rogers. I believe this "IT" invention, also by Dean Kamen, to be some sort of a scooter. A scooter that is kept upright by a Kamen-designed gyroscope and encompasses the ability to skim over potholes and also can easily ascend and descend stairs. We discover more information from this quote in the January 15th, 2001 issue of
Heard about the invention of the century, termed "IT?" "IT" or "Ginger" has been described as "alternative to products that are dirty, expensive, sometimes dangerous, and often frustrating, especially for people in the cities." According to reports, Jeff Bezos of Amazon.com, Steve Jobs of Apple Computer and venture capitalist John Doerr have seen two prototypes assembled in ten minutes and ready to ... what? Dean Kamen, the inventor of the revolutionary iBot, a wheelchair that can climb stairs, chose the code name "Fred" for that invention in reference to Fred Astair and Ginger Rogers. I believe this "IT" invention, also by Dean Kamen, to be some sort of a scooter. A scooter that is kept upright by a Kamen-designed gyroscope and encompasses the ability to skim over potholes and also can easily ascend and descend stairs. We discover more information from this quote in the January 15th, 2001 issue of Wired News
As I worked in my garage today, meticulously applying RainX® to the windshield of my wife's car, I watched the $40,000 SUV's wheels cut through the rain water filled curb and slowly roll to a halt near the Chaparral High School bus stop. Shielded from the rain outside, was a warm and dry pupil, no doubt wiling and whining away the minutes until the school bus, with white painted roof, darkly tinted windows, and heat pump equipped environmental system, rumbled up. I then remembered back to my own high school days. High school days that involved an obnoxious wind up alarm clock ripping me from my hormone driven dreams at 3:30AM every weekday morning to pilot my Schwinn Paperboy Special eight blocks down to the corner Lucky's grocery store. Once there, embraced by the warm aroma of dozens of loaves of baking bread, I folded and rubber banded the Arizona Republic newspapers, destined, on a rainy day like today, to be quietly inserted behind the screen doors of my one hundred and seventeen customers. (Due to the incredible expansion at that time in the area north of Glendale Avenue along 35th Avenue my route had grown into one of the largest bike delivered routes in Phoenix.) Why didn't I just put my newspapers into plastic bags and toss them somewhere onto driveways or lawns of my subscribers? I know this is hard to believe, but plastic bags weren't available in the early 1960s and because I had pride in doing an excellent job, I would never leave a paper less than five feet from any of my customer's front doors. All for the occasional dime or the awesome quarter dollar tip. I can't help but think that in comparing today's teens lifestyle to my own 1960s travails, that our 21st Century high school students are so pampered as to be the world's ultimate PUSSY'S !
Professor John H. McWhorter's new book exposes exactly why American-African's are failing at economic integration in the United States.
(By the way, my missionary friend just returned from a month on the African continent and if someone can be proud of race that has almost entirely remained in the 10th Century it is incomprehensible. Remember, at one time all races lived the way most continental African's do today.) Professor McWhorter (a light black, per the old Saturday Night Live skit) proposes Blacks are being held back by victimology, separation and anti-intellectualism. And by the assumption that "The only way a race can succeed is if there is no racism. African-American's are the only race that's labored under that." My father spoke with a heavy German accent, he faced racism, especially during World War II! Jews are still facing racism in the U.S. and worldwide. But yet both German's and Jew's continue to prosper because they look for ways to succeed! may I say they look for ways to "overcome?" I'll always remember the very talented young black man who was in a theater production with me. He complained that so and so was being racist because she was treating him poorly. I had to explain to him that she wasn't racist, but as a beautiful red-headed bitch, she treated everyone that way.
During the late 1960s and early 1970s, my older brother Pat was involved in F.D.A. sanctioned experiments involving hallucinogens. This explains Pat's response when, during a dental procedure decades ago, he died. Rather than becoming hysterical like so many people unfamiliar with the unexpected hallucinations drugs can cause, Pat kept calm, leaned back and settled in for the ride. His entire 'near death experience' as recounted to me, was, not surprisingly, extremely interesting. However, today I will focus on only one tiny segment of it. He recalled to me, "As a naked newborn I was floating through the blackest of blacks, when a three dimensional bar code label floated by me, slowly twisting in the nothingness. And on this bar code was the history of my entire life." Know, especially you young ones, that when this occurred in the late 1970s, the data the most sophisticated bar code could encompass was limited to only thirteen or so digits. Realize that at that time a cutting edge Digital Equipment mini-computer (there were no PC's or even Windows 3.0) ran $80,000 and had 20 megabytes of disc space split between two washing machine sized drives! All this computer processing power was fed by 256k of memory mounted on a board the size of a large cookie tin. So what Pat was recalling, about a bar code containing millions of bytes of data, was obviously nonsense! However, reading in the August 2000 issue of PC Magazine, I discovered the Intacta.Code 'bar code' which now contains 400 bytes of data per centimeter. That level of compression allows for the conversion of video or audio clips or pages of text to a small strip of information. So what my brother related to me, after his NDE, actually predicted the future ... and the possibility that our entire earthly existence can be reduced and encoded and placed on a bar code label complete with adhesive strip on the back.
According to an article in the December 29th, 2000 Wired netmag, this weekend presents an excellent opportunity for the unleashing of trojan horse launched "computer zombies" from within the systems of unwitting computer owners, resulting in massive DoS attacks similar to what we witnessed in February of 2000. (Of course, I'm thinking "How many people are going to be buying stocks or shopping the Internet this weekend anyway? Hell, they're all going to be bombed, hung over the ivory throne, or wiping the vomit from their bluetooth equipped Palm Pilots.") Another opportunity for hackers will be Tuesday, January 2nd, 2001, when stacked up emails are read and attachments, between throbs of the head, are painfully opened, resulting in multiple viruses being set loose. Here's a link to fairy tale web page that could help you more easily check for viruses.
You know, donating blood is one of the few altruistic things a person can do. This is because the whole process is anonymous, unpaid and consummated behind drawn blinds. That's why so few Bill Gates or Ted Turner types will ever give blood ... no publicity, no stock options and they don't have any more blood to give than the guy piloting the neighborhood garbage truck does. So, on December 23rd, 2000, your Mr.Wonderful decided to give blood at the temporary U.B.S. site at Paradise Valley Mall. I had been donating blood for years, but after being rejected for 'low iron' on the last three attempts, I gave up. (Without revealing any of their techniques employed to keep our blood supply safe, I can tell you, that in my opinion, the blood used in U.S. Hospitals is as safe as it can possibly be made. Because they are not taking any chances with the Mad Cow Disease debacle, don't even waste your time if you've been to Great Britain since 1996.) Okay, so I gave blood and later that afternoon I already began feeling the scratchy throat of an illness moving in. Yesterday, after suffering five days, I finally visited the offices of the learned Dr. Sobel, DO. There I heard an interesting premise. That is, I most likely contracted my illness after donating blood, because I was a 'quart' low leaving me with an inadequate number of blood cells to combat the invaders. So I became ill where normally I'd just get a sniffle. What really infuriates the fitness freaks, the diet guru's and the doctors is, that after weighing in at 290lbs (a two hundred and ninety pounds carefully packed on my wavy five foot nine inch physique) my blood pressure (sans aspirin, Nyquil, etc.) was a svelte 126/76!