A poor misguided soul over-equipped with access to media published a blasphemous treatise suggesting a mayonnaise taxonomy in which Duke's is not atop the hierarchy. This shameless heretic goes so far as to assemble a team of "taste testers" who declare Hellman's to be the best tasting mayo by a wide margin.
One take on this is the obvious -- it is stab at satire, revealing the all-to-common budding journalist's desire to pose as this generation's Swift. After all some of the comments on Duke's taste include "vinegary kick" and an afertaste--qualities long associated with Hellman's and never with Duke's. Of course this could be mere incompentence--the inability to keep the various samples straight. They did note one of Duke's strong points, a robust texture that results in tomato sandwiches with adequate mayo which will not simply squirt out the tomato slices all over your plate.
And this brings us to another incredible point, this author made his first tomato sandwich with a single slice of tomato. Perhaps this correlates with the erudite affectation associated with heirloom this and that, as if heirloom is something obtained by means other than death of a loved one, and even if that were possible that this so-called heirloom retained any of its original value. Regardless, one who actually makes a tomato sandwich with only one slice, no matter how thick that slice, is suspect as a judge of anything southern, and there is little more southern than the tomato sandwich.
At the end of the day, what was true remains true: if you're not spreading Duke's, you're spreading crap.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Public Schools: Golly How the Truth Will Out
The Department of Education recently published a revealing report on just how well states are doing with setting and achieving academic excellence. You know what academic excellence is right? It's whatever your local school board, principals and teachers say it is. At least this is what was revealed by the DoE report.
Turns out when Georgia says students perform at grade level, they really are well below national performance standards. Often so far below acceptable levels as to be deemed incapable of demonstrating basic understanding of the content. Yet we are told they are not only doing just fine, they in fact are excelling.
How can that be? How can this happen when we have a cadre of well-trained, self-sacrificingteachers educators led by experienced principals and adminstrators who are overseen by some of the best and brightest we can elect to our Boards of Education?
At this point you may be wondering how we can be so sure of their capabilities. You are right to wonder. We, the public, have two critically important sources of information on this matter. Unburdened by modesty, educators will gladly testify to their own amazing work ethic and capabilities. Second, the education machine, those education programs in our colleges and universities represent a multi-billion dollar industry, can supply mountains of data supporting what a great job they, and their graduates, are doing. Of course, with more money it could always improve.
These authoritative sources will tell you that one size does not fit all. That they have a better size chart for the brains of the average Abner and Daisy Mae than some Washington bureaucrat. That these standards are not on a continuum, but are orthogonal. That the dimensionality of the modalities and the dispersion of social paradigms...well, you get the idea.
But perhaps there is a simpler explanation: they are lying. That's right, our "educators" are systematically lying. And this is not a nameless, faceless entity. A "school board". Or the "Department of Education". Or the "administration". Or even the "faculty". No. These organizations exist only because of the people in them. People with faces. People with names. People with paychecks. And apparently people with an agenda. People who will do anything to protect their interest and their agenda. People who lie.
And parents, you see these people everyday in your child's school. It is the principal and she has a name. It is the teacher and he has a name. It is the school superintendent and she has a name. And it is the school board members and they have names. And they are all lying to you.
The lie they tell is both how great they are and, as a secondary consequence of the big lie, how great, how smart, how above average your child is. And every parent wants to hear this---every parent wants to believe this, to believe their child is a budding genius. And these educrats know this. And they use this knowledge to their advantage.
This situation is absolutely incredible. Parents have, with the assistance of tax-supported enablers, deluded themselves into believing their child is magically receiving a world-class education in spite of the fact that they know that Georgia public schools are among the worst in a country falling further behind in world rankings. Then, in any given sample large enough to be statistically valid, most folks are going to be average. MOST. Most students. Most teachers. Most parents. Everyone's child simply cannot be above average.
But it gets worse. In this case, when you consider a larger population, the whole of the United States rather than just Georgia, our contribution to the whole is below average. We have built an education system that consistently turns out below average results whilst paying people to convince us otherwise. And here is the really good part: these propagandists are the same people who produce the below average results in the first place.
Yet there are parents out there, perhaps even reading this, who persist in thinking "well, yes, that may be true, but MY child is receiving one of the best educations in the world." Even with an embedded culture of systemic prevarication it is these parents who have destroyed public education.
Turns out when Georgia says students perform at grade level, they really are well below national performance standards. Often so far below acceptable levels as to be deemed incapable of demonstrating basic understanding of the content. Yet we are told they are not only doing just fine, they in fact are excelling.
How can that be? How can this happen when we have a cadre of well-trained, self-sacrificing
At this point you may be wondering how we can be so sure of their capabilities. You are right to wonder. We, the public, have two critically important sources of information on this matter. Unburdened by modesty, educators will gladly testify to their own amazing work ethic and capabilities. Second, the education machine, those education programs in our colleges and universities represent a multi-billion dollar industry, can supply mountains of data supporting what a great job they, and their graduates, are doing. Of course, with more money it could always improve.
These authoritative sources will tell you that one size does not fit all. That they have a better size chart for the brains of the average Abner and Daisy Mae than some Washington bureaucrat. That these standards are not on a continuum, but are orthogonal. That the dimensionality of the modalities and the dispersion of social paradigms...well, you get the idea.
But perhaps there is a simpler explanation: they are lying. That's right, our "educators" are systematically lying. And this is not a nameless, faceless entity. A "school board". Or the "Department of Education". Or the "administration". Or even the "faculty". No. These organizations exist only because of the people in them. People with faces. People with names. People with paychecks. And apparently people with an agenda. People who will do anything to protect their interest and their agenda. People who lie.
And parents, you see these people everyday in your child's school. It is the principal and she has a name. It is the teacher and he has a name. It is the school superintendent and she has a name. And it is the school board members and they have names. And they are all lying to you.
The lie they tell is both how great they are and, as a secondary consequence of the big lie, how great, how smart, how above average your child is. And every parent wants to hear this---every parent wants to believe this, to believe their child is a budding genius. And these educrats know this. And they use this knowledge to their advantage.
This situation is absolutely incredible. Parents have, with the assistance of tax-supported enablers, deluded themselves into believing their child is magically receiving a world-class education in spite of the fact that they know that Georgia public schools are among the worst in a country falling further behind in world rankings. Then, in any given sample large enough to be statistically valid, most folks are going to be average. MOST. Most students. Most teachers. Most parents. Everyone's child simply cannot be above average.
But it gets worse. In this case, when you consider a larger population, the whole of the United States rather than just Georgia, our contribution to the whole is below average. We have built an education system that consistently turns out below average results whilst paying people to convince us otherwise. And here is the really good part: these propagandists are the same people who produce the below average results in the first place.
Yet there are parents out there, perhaps even reading this, who persist in thinking "well, yes, that may be true, but MY child is receiving one of the best educations in the world." Even with an embedded culture of systemic prevarication it is these parents who have destroyed public education.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Reading the Chicken Entrails
There is much we mere subjects of City Hall can glean from the Great Chicken Debate going on in Warren's World. The superficial topic at hand is whether or not we, the Serfs of Dunwoody, should be allowed more than three live chickens per household as is allowed under current city law.
The debate ostensibly centers around whether the limit should be increased or if this trend towards sustainable poultry will have Dunwoody smelling like a farm instead of just having the image of one on all our signage.
On the "pro" side are council members who lean a bit towards individual freedom and property rights, and who also seem aware of the extensive information and products supporting urban (not just suburban, but URBAN) chicken and egg production for home consumption.
The "con" supporters base their argument on childhood experiences from which they've gleaned that chickens stink and make noise. This isn't the best of arguments but let's give these retired chicken ranchers a good hear.
First we'll ignore the import of the "urban" observation made previously. Then we'll accept the fact that chickens create some stink and hens do indeed cluck. We'll ignore those little nuggets of fertilizer left by the neighbor's dog and we'll consider song birds, well, sonorous. But let's not ignore the fact that everyone in Dunwoody doesn't live in a condo, or a McMansion or a clutter-home. Some folks have yards. Some folks have big yards, some even bigger than their house. Who knew? It would seem obvious to allow those with lots above a certain, reasonable size, say 1/3 acre, a bit of say so regarding their own property and constrain smaller lots to the current restriction with exceptions by way of SLUPs.
Given such a simple solution that protects the individual freedom and property rights on both sides of the issue, on might conclude this is about something other than chickens. Perhaps what we're seeing is much more important than backyard eggs.
We've been presented with a clear separation between those who support individual rights and those acting like frustrated refugees from a powerless home owners association who can now ram their rules down our throats. Perhaps if some of these folks had mucked out a few stables instead of feeding chickens we would have fewer horse-shit ordinances.
The debate ostensibly centers around whether the limit should be increased or if this trend towards sustainable poultry will have Dunwoody smelling like a farm instead of just having the image of one on all our signage.
On the "pro" side are council members who lean a bit towards individual freedom and property rights, and who also seem aware of the extensive information and products supporting urban (not just suburban, but URBAN) chicken and egg production for home consumption.
The "con" supporters base their argument on childhood experiences from which they've gleaned that chickens stink and make noise. This isn't the best of arguments but let's give these retired chicken ranchers a good hear.
First we'll ignore the import of the "urban" observation made previously. Then we'll accept the fact that chickens create some stink and hens do indeed cluck. We'll ignore those little nuggets of fertilizer left by the neighbor's dog and we'll consider song birds, well, sonorous. But let's not ignore the fact that everyone in Dunwoody doesn't live in a condo, or a McMansion or a clutter-home. Some folks have yards. Some folks have big yards, some even bigger than their house. Who knew? It would seem obvious to allow those with lots above a certain, reasonable size, say 1/3 acre, a bit of say so regarding their own property and constrain smaller lots to the current restriction with exceptions by way of SLUPs.
Given such a simple solution that protects the individual freedom and property rights on both sides of the issue, on might conclude this is about something other than chickens. Perhaps what we're seeing is much more important than backyard eggs.
We've been presented with a clear separation between those who support individual rights and those acting like frustrated refugees from a powerless home owners association who can now ram their rules down our throats. Perhaps if some of these folks had mucked out a few stables instead of feeding chickens we would have fewer horse-shit ordinances.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Dunwoody Diversity
Let's be honest here, Dunwoody cannot really be characterized as a champion of diversity. Not before cityhood, and certainly not since--just look at the demographic makeup of the city council. Or city administration. Or the police force. Or...
So when folks in Dunwoody talk about diversity, they're talking age diversity--they're talking old farts. Specifically themselves. Actually, they're talking about themselves in the future tense, denial being what it is and all. And these discussions usually boil down to "Assisted Living" facilities.
One view of these is that they are a deceitful way to introduce high density into a suburban setting. And we all know what high density means. Bad Things[tm].
Another view, that of the aging Dunwoodian who did not adequately prepare for retirement at St. Simons, is they are wonderful things allowing life long Dunwoodians (approximately 3.2% of the current population) to remain Dunwoodians until their timely demise. They tout the wonderful addition old farts make to the community. After all, were it not for the blue hairs, who would attend council and zoning meetings? And who would give us those fifteen minutes of quiet time in queue at the post office drop off? These folks not only keep Wednesday grocery shopping cheap, they often fill the audience at local plays, and offer many opportunities for high schools students to pad resume's with "community service" activities. It's like having little self-storage facilities chock full of grandparents.
So what about the non-demented elderly? Has anybody bothered to ask them? You know who they are: the ones who can choose where to live rather than those moved close to a guilt-ridden child who "needs them nearby to take care of them" (translate: wheel 'em out on holidays so the kids have quality time with gramps which is probably about all the quality time gramps can handle).
Probably not, because anyone who has lived in the 'burbs for any length of time comes to understand this universal truth: suburbs are places dedicated to the worship of children. Every old fart out there knows this and most will gladly share the insight.
This is the way it should be, which is convenient since it's the way it is. And just because suburbs are great places to raise kids doesn't make them ideal for your golden years. Au contraire.
After all, who, who doesn't already have to, wants to put up with soccer moms? Nobody, especially not old farts. Not when they clog streets in their SUVs schlepping the buggers to school. Not when they're at "Ladies Night Out" fawning over some local bartender's exaggerated British accent, tempting him with cleavage that probably violates a city ordinance. And certainly not when they drag their little demons out to restaurants way past their bedtimes when all you want to do is enjoy one of the few nice evenings out left in your allotment.
Then there is the incessant public whining about schools--like they really matter. And the taxes fer crissakes. Why would anyone on a fixed income want to pay the outrageous taxes these incredibly dysfunctional schools demand? And we won't even discuss what having schools littering the city does to concealed carry. Then we have laws and ordinances designed to protect children from themselves and even the remote possibility of exposure to anything deemed "mature". The kind of things that keep old farts' memories alive.
Why would any adult without school age children put up with all this? The answer is: they wouldn't. At least if they can afford not to.
So do we, as a city, want to create public policy that expands this "age diversity" or should we stay true to the mission, the reality of suburban living? Truth be told, what we really want is enough old fart warehousing to support the needs of a demographic that started a family late and now finds itself wedged between raising children and "caring" for the elders. We have enough of that already.
So when folks in Dunwoody talk about diversity, they're talking age diversity--they're talking old farts. Specifically themselves. Actually, they're talking about themselves in the future tense, denial being what it is and all. And these discussions usually boil down to "Assisted Living" facilities.
One view of these is that they are a deceitful way to introduce high density into a suburban setting. And we all know what high density means. Bad Things[tm].
Another view, that of the aging Dunwoodian who did not adequately prepare for retirement at St. Simons, is they are wonderful things allowing life long Dunwoodians (approximately 3.2% of the current population) to remain Dunwoodians until their timely demise. They tout the wonderful addition old farts make to the community. After all, were it not for the blue hairs, who would attend council and zoning meetings? And who would give us those fifteen minutes of quiet time in queue at the post office drop off? These folks not only keep Wednesday grocery shopping cheap, they often fill the audience at local plays, and offer many opportunities for high schools students to pad resume's with "community service" activities. It's like having little self-storage facilities chock full of grandparents.
So what about the non-demented elderly? Has anybody bothered to ask them? You know who they are: the ones who can choose where to live rather than those moved close to a guilt-ridden child who "needs them nearby to take care of them" (translate: wheel 'em out on holidays so the kids have quality time with gramps which is probably about all the quality time gramps can handle).
Probably not, because anyone who has lived in the 'burbs for any length of time comes to understand this universal truth: suburbs are places dedicated to the worship of children. Every old fart out there knows this and most will gladly share the insight.
This is the way it should be, which is convenient since it's the way it is. And just because suburbs are great places to raise kids doesn't make them ideal for your golden years. Au contraire.
After all, who, who doesn't already have to, wants to put up with soccer moms? Nobody, especially not old farts. Not when they clog streets in their SUVs schlepping the buggers to school. Not when they're at "Ladies Night Out" fawning over some local bartender's exaggerated British accent, tempting him with cleavage that probably violates a city ordinance. And certainly not when they drag their little demons out to restaurants way past their bedtimes when all you want to do is enjoy one of the few nice evenings out left in your allotment.
Then there is the incessant public whining about schools--like they really matter. And the taxes fer crissakes. Why would anyone on a fixed income want to pay the outrageous taxes these incredibly dysfunctional schools demand? And we won't even discuss what having schools littering the city does to concealed carry. Then we have laws and ordinances designed to protect children from themselves and even the remote possibility of exposure to anything deemed "mature". The kind of things that keep old farts' memories alive.
Why would any adult without school age children put up with all this? The answer is: they wouldn't. At least if they can afford not to.
So do we, as a city, want to create public policy that expands this "age diversity" or should we stay true to the mission, the reality of suburban living? Truth be told, what we really want is enough old fart warehousing to support the needs of a demographic that started a family late and now finds itself wedged between raising children and "caring" for the elders. We have enough of that already.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Dunwoody Police Parade
Never one to miss a good PR opportunity, the Dunwoody Police Department made a show of farce during the Dunwoody 5K run. This fine morning bore witness to the largest police presence in Northwest Dunwoody, home to Dunwoody's very own Needle Park, in DPD's brief history.
But not without mishap. One patrolman, obviously unfamiliar with the area and unburdened by a map or a sense of direction, got lost and had to flag down a Sandy Springs police officer for directions. Perhaps in an effort to save face, or perhaps to show the DPD's adoring fans that they can indeed write citations, this patrolman wrote up the Needle Park Crosswalk Practice Dummy for jaywalking. No one from the city was available to comment on how this fine would be collected or the consequences of non-payment--one suspects the Dummy will be hauled off to jail for "failure to pay". Odds are this is the last traffic citation in this area until this time next year.
The PR event ended abruptly as the patrolmen had to take an emergency call. Seems one of their two fave councilmen were hosting "Donuts with Deputies" all the way across town. Where they live.
But not without mishap. One patrolman, obviously unfamiliar with the area and unburdened by a map or a sense of direction, got lost and had to flag down a Sandy Springs police officer for directions. Perhaps in an effort to save face, or perhaps to show the DPD's adoring fans that they can indeed write citations, this patrolman wrote up the Needle Park Crosswalk Practice Dummy for jaywalking. No one from the city was available to comment on how this fine would be collected or the consequences of non-payment--one suspects the Dummy will be hauled off to jail for "failure to pay". Odds are this is the last traffic citation in this area until this time next year.
The PR event ended abruptly as the patrolmen had to take an emergency call. Seems one of their two fave councilmen were hosting "Donuts with Deputies" all the way across town. Where they live.
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