Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Until then:

Gather around children:
church sign Knee

Since I will be somewhat indisposed for the next few days, I am reposting some previous things that you the reader have chosen, please feel free to pick your favorite and explain in two hundred words or less why it is so.

However a word of caution, take my "writing" in very small doses, to much can led to un-expected out-comes not they least of which is, typo over load, bladder control problems, underarm odor, & blurred vision.

Dear, dear, friends, raise your glass for me, think of myself and our brave band on No-Love-Thursday, and I shall see you all again oh so very soon…

All My Best,

I remain, unrepentantly myself:

JQP esq.

JQP esq. Greatest American, you Decide, lines are now open for your vote:

Post One

My Plans for Oct. 16th. (Perfect Day)
Plans for a Saturday:

Well, the beautiful and kind Mrs. John Q. Public and I were going to go skiing on the slopes of beautiful Mt. Etna. I truly think those slopes to be better than ones close to my childhood home of Mt. Zion. Indiana has so many natural wonders to behold, so many things to do, that it really is difficult to decide what to do with your free time on weekends. However, I was on-call today at the hospital yet again, (it’s like no one else there can do brain surgery, I mean, come on, didn’t we all go to med school, that and do you know how hard it is to park a school bus in a hospital parking garage).

Mrs. Public was displeased, but these things happen when your married to a humanitarian, and it was either that or going with a group from church (my real one, you know that catholic one, the one with the steeple and all the lawn statues) that is currently involved in building a clinic and a school in a small village across the border.

I, like many other Hoosiers, feel some degree of guilt about the high quality of life we enjoy, when those poor Buckeye children go without, oh well perhaps I will join them next weekend, it is my understanding they will be heading up to Michigan to build a bridge that will cut 10 miles off the trip of the local indigenous population as they drive their chicken herds to market. Hoosiers are a very giving people, and there is something about the joy you feel in your heart when you give a Buckeye child his first pair of shoes.

Now that I am off duty, in a manner of speaking (because are we ever really off duty?), I have made my plans for the evening: I will be attending a Macedonian anniversary party and hog-roast, since I have recouped my bearings from my evening of excess, I plan to enjoy the company of a select group of friends (yes, dear reader, I have taken great lengths to ensure that Pastor Bob doesn’t find out about this evening of fun and festivities). I can barely wait for the fresh roasted pork, pickled farm products and large amounts of eastern European and Mediterranean liquors. I might even dance like Zorba the Greek again this year, however there will be no repeat of the “kiss the goat contest” I understand that it is still discussed in some circles, behind closed doors.

Great Grandpa Pic

Wishing you and yours all the best, JQP esq.

Post Two:

Line of the Day:
“You came into my life like vermouth to gin, quickly and a little to smooth.”

It begins
It was a weekend like any other, with a few minor exceptions. I decided to brush off my investigative skills and work with a old friend as a Bounty Hunter, so after asking Sister Mary Margaret to cover my ESL class, I was off on the investigation beat, to coin a popular expression oft heard these days; I was go’en get me some of the’m evil-doers.

Dear friends, little did I know that a that the undertaking I was entering would take me to the highest levels of power, and the lowest levels of depravities, in what can only be said is a story that would make the epic-documentary director Roger Moore blanch.

I developed what I assumed would be an effective cover-story and wardrobe change (I was glad I saved all those clothes from my days in Seattle with the grunge-band, nods to Pastor Bob who had recently returned my Red Army over-coat, and East German ruck-sack.

My cover story was quite simple (given my belief that in covert-ops the simplest plan is often the most appropriate). My name was to be “Spike” and I had jumped ship from a North-Korean Iron-Ore freighter that at that time was docked in my sleepy port town. With those preparations made dear reader I dove into the steamy-under-belly of the “City of Churches”.

My friend and I, (who for the sake of this story will be known by the cover-name I knew him best as (when we were mercenaries in the killing fields of Principality of Monaco) “Lolly-Pop”, a name that is still both blessed a cursed in some parts of Europe.

We soon found ourselves at the water front of our port city, replete with; seedy bars, tattoo parlors, happy-ending massage establishments, Buy-Here Pay-Here car lots, Pay-Day Loans, and the local republican headquarters. All places the “low-people” are known frequent, yes, our path into the darkness would begin here.

We were on the trail of close knit gang of thugs and bail jumpers, whose last offence was strong arming the patents at the local VA hospital, into keeping their mouths shut about a proposed plan to close the hospital leaving them without the sub-standard health care they had grown accustom to, in their wake they left broken hips and shattered the dreams of these proud veterans, everyone a hero. Oh, yes dear reader it was personal now, “Lolly-Pop” and I were going to make someone pay.

We picked up our trail at a bar known as the Boom-Boom Saloon. For those readers who have never been to this particular tap-house, let me paint a mental picture for you. There are three things that Boom-Boom's is know for they are:

The quality of the exotic female dancers (dear reader, if ever the word exotic was appropriately used, it is here now). Your typical dancer often is a sweet lass, between the ages of 18 and 61, track marks plainly visible, replete with tattoos, piercings (fish-hooks, were most often seen on this visit, given its water-front local) knife and/or gunshot scars or wounds in various stages of healing, and advanced cases of gastro-intestinal disease. (How would one tip these ladies? I use the dollar per tooth method, I love attention to detail, and it always insures I leave with money).

The building itself, while offering an extensive lunch and dinner menu (hats off to the chef) it is still best known for its beer-drinking cockroach population, (it is often best to drink quickly and cover any remaining beverage with the fine wire mesh the wait-staff provides). I tend to stay away from beers brewed in St. Louis due to the notable fact that the roaches seem to prefer them to all other domestic and imported beers. Also, I must inform the reader that shootings and stablings occur with such a frequency among the customers that after a brief adjustment period, they take on an almost surreal effect, that is most easily compared to current Swiss post-modern film(my most recent viewing was Schlorkbabies an der Raststätte, two thumbs up).

And last, the thing that has allowed this place of respite for the wicked, such renown, is the fact that they (the owners, who it might be added are also big funders of the Mitch Daniels campaign for governor, of our fare land, our great state, Indiana) ..always pride themselves on having at least one midget dancer (or little person, as I was informed they prefer to be called, at the point of a knife, while looking in her mouth in an earnest effort to gage the amount of my tip).

It was soon after finishing a ninth pitcher of beer, and a wonderful petite roasted Capon in garlic and walnuts with a cream sage butter sauce, polished off with Cream Brule, that “Lolly-Pop” gave me the heads up, a C.I. (confidential informant, to those of you not familiar with trade-speak) had some information that could help our investigation, and we should meet him in the ally between the gun-store and the rescue mission. His C.I was only known as “green-teeth”.

I am sorry, dear reader, but the nurse is here now to give me my sponge bath, and drop off the flowers just sent to me by the Truthful and Compassionate Mrs. John Q. Public, who has I type this is on the road with the Boy-Band, filming a interview with Kansas Public Television, in preparation for their show Wednesday night, (my understanding is that they are opening for a Monster-Truck Show & Pull, at the 4-H fair-grounds). I will continue later, if my injures allow it.

sex its the pits



The sisters of St. Sapo

Post Three:

On Catholic Education and Chiropractic Arts:

Helping a Friend:
Last night, Father Phil called me, and asked for a meeting. I could tell by his tone it was not going to be a meeting I would enjoy.

It seems while the church has been rather indulgent in some of my activities (the “Come has your favorite Saint and/or Sinner” dinner and dance for the senior citizens and of course my driving of the Greater Grace New Tabernacle Faith Church and Show Choir church bus), but they have taken a rather less enlightened view on a few (very few, rest assured) of my other actions.

First some back-ground. A dear friend of mine from my days in the regiment, upon discharge from duty, came across one of those problems we all face, ergo: which career path to chose? When faced with the decision he chose the profession of chiropractics rather than his first dream of a profession in the world of dance. Some may say he sold-out, I however believe he bought in (that and I have seen him dance on several occasions, clogging is not for the faint of heart).

After completing his studies at the well regarded: “Inst. For Chiropractic Studies and Diesel Mechanics” located just off Exit 5 in beautiful Richmond, Indiana, a community known for its roses and RV sales.(its should be noted however that I am not an un-biased observer of said school, if you were to read the current catalog it lists myself has adjunct facility).

My friend (who for legal reasons will be know as “Doctor J”) started his practice in a spare room above his father’s Butcher Shop (perhaps you have seen their bumper stickers “ J######” Bros. Butcher Shop: No one, but no one beats our Meat”. Now for sake of story I must also tell you dear reader that their establishment is located right across the street from “Our Lady, Chicken of the Sea Catholic Church and Primary School” my home parish.

Sadly, “Doctor J’s” practice did not take off, he was even forced to help out in his father’s shop making their well know and highly regarded sausages (now available with “Super Secret Cougar Sausage Slaw” **trademark pending). Which was my opinion at the time a waste of one of the great minds in modern chiropractic medicine.

“Doctor J”, had the presence of mind to seek out my council, and as a dear friend and comrade from our day’s in uniform (he still walks with a limp from a particularly nasty bite he received when out with me on a search and destroy mission in the red-light districts of the Philippine Islands, and I still carry a saber scar of that same event, my hat goes off to those brave ladies, the members of the elite Donkey-Dance Brigade, our gallant foes, our sworn enemies, but alas, perhaps a story for another time).

I came upon a solution, to his woes. As it happens I was recently asked if I could take over the teaching of the natural family planning class required of all good catholic couples if they wish to be married in the eyes of our great religion (how great you may ask? Well, dear reader, if you were buying Jesus, for 2,000 years we had the only store on the corner, yes…that great). I of course agreed, and also offered my skill as a cosmetic surgeon for a discounted rate as well; both Father and the Parish Council felt they would just have me do the class. Oh, well it was not only their loss, but a loss for many of us who are forced to sit through the weddings of the ugly.

I soon put my plan into action. Starting with the first class, I threw away the curriculum, much like those scenes made famous by the great dramatic actor Robin Williams in the movie “Dead Poets Society”. I proceeded for two hours every Wednesday night over 6 weeks, in the basement of the CYO, to educate my young charges. Oh, the joy of eager minds, and couples in love.

My instruction was focused on two areas I feel of great importance, the self-gratifier, and in-depth study of the Karma Sutra, while this may seem unconventional to some, I believe it was Buddha who said: “there are many paths to the mountain, but only one mountain”.

I found my focus relating to the time of conception and positioning being the most enlightened part of the whole series. I stressed that sexual activity between a loving couples should occur at least 3 times a day, 6 days a week (why did you think the good book calls Sunday a day of rest?). Also a strong point was the following (now I do realize that many readers of this posting will already be familiar with these activities, so, please for the sake of the less well rounded individuals bare with me) that the very best way to have a baby every time is the missionary position, however there is no chance of orgasms for either party, however the less well known position that will guarantee incredible orgasms for both parties with zero chance of conception is the secret Flying-S position, this is one favored by advanced practitioners of yoga, and some sects of Amish, examples of both were provided with thanks to the Beautiful and Loving Mrs. John Q. Public and when she was un-available my fat girl friend.

At the completion of the class, I handed them the business card of my good friend and comrade from our days in the cavalry “Doctor J”. Whose practice picked up quite noticeably, to the point he like all other providers of medical services fled our inter-city neighborhood and got very tastefully decorated office over by the truck terminal, about a ½ mile past the airport.

Of course this brings me to the meeting with Father Phil. While still in a state of shock over the loss of “my bar”, I went to our appointment. It seems last Sunday, the parish council had a meeting, and acting on the directions of the diocese’s investigative office (yet, another reason to never trust a Jesuit, with their pierced ears and silk shirts, they are truly the Waffen SS of the Vatican).

It seems that a large number of young married couples started experiencing strange maladies, they include but are not limited to the following: hyper-extended necks, multiple hip dislocations, yellow discharge, and sprained wrists. While these injurys may be common among the yoga and Amish communities, here they were greeted with no un-due concern. Many of these injury’s resulted in the individuals and/or couples seeking chiropractic (enter my friend and colleague “Doctor J”) and in extreme cases orthopedic attention.

Dear reader, it did not take as long as I thought for them to track it back to me and my class on natural family planning. I have heard from sources close to the investigation that at one point both the Dept. of Homeland Defense and the CDC were consulted.

So, effective immediately I am not longer allowed to teach said class. Now some might look at this as a slap in the face, but I don’t, I was, after all only doing it to help a friend get his struggling practice up and running, and the way I see it, I will have even more time to devote to my latest project, life size statues of both Elvis and Bobby Knight (believe it or not, chain-saw art is a lot more difficult than is seems, and once again sorry! to my neighbor Ray who was helping me with the project last week, I am glad they were able to reattach it, the wonders of modern medicine never cease to amuse and entertain me).

I leave you now dear reader, as I am due in court (I moon-light as a public defender, it takes me back to my days with the Southern Law and Poverty Center). Still no cussing...!

Quote for the Day:
Pain (any pain--emotional, physical, and mental) has a message. The information it has about our life can be remarkably specific, but it usually falls into one of two categories: "We would be more alive if we did more of this," and, "Life would be lovelier if we did less of that." Once we get the pain's message, and follow its advice, the pain goes away.
Peter McWilliams, Life 101

This posting is dedicated to Fast Eddie, a prince among men and leader in the art communities on both coasts, who when he lost everything, left me with this word of wisdom: “whatever”…. Soldier on, Fast Eddie, Soldier on dear man.

dream girl


JQP Lt. Col. Ret.

Post Four:

gee, John how was your weekend?
So, how was my weekend you ask?

Well, I took a nap after work that ended up lasting 4 hours, I then fixed myself a
a cup of lentil soup, and sat down with a good book (well, it really isn’t a good book, I got it from Hyde Brother’s Book store, (http://www.hydebros.com/bookswanted.htm) in their “almost free pile”, however now at chapter 32, I think I am more knowledgeable about the Crimean War then most of the fellow residents of my inter-city neighborhood, so much for Friday).

I went shopping at four different groceries, spending 80.00 and saving around 140.00 (yes, I am one of those ass-holes who will drive all over town to save ten cents), however I now find myself in possession of many things I will never or seldom use (four bottles of Capers, what the hell am I going to do with that?).

I then spent the rest of the afternoon baking my world famous “Green Tomato Pies”. I made 9 of them and then a few soon to be famous hot pepper pies, (neither of which should be confused with my “Super Secret Cougar Sausage Slaw” **trademark pending). Sorry, no rib pies.

Later on that night, the beautiful and lovely Mrs. John Q. Public was able to tear herself away from her self imposed exile in the rock and roll lifestyle to join myself and a few close personal friends for some fermented hops and pickled cabbage at a local roadhouse on the unfashionable side of the city. We found ourselves leaving the company of friends around midnight and off to slumber.

Skipped Mass again, I wonder how many times you can skip before they revoke your catholic card. Mrs. Public slept for 20 hours, and after accidentally taking her “headache medicine” I found myself sitting in front of the TV drooling while watching back to back episodes of Bonanza. Needless to say, I believe I turned in early as well, since I found myself still in the upright position this morning, while the magic of vacuum storage solutions was explained on channel 28

This brings me to today, on the road at 5 am, to drive 3 hours to talk to people for 30 minutes, and then back. You ever notice that every road you have to take out in the middle of no-where has two lanes, is under-construction, and that you are just in time for every school bus in the state? A metaphor of my life, I ask?

By request this was just a glimpse into and normal weekend for a normal kind of guy. Now, don’t you wish you would not have asked? I wonder why do we ask stuff like that?

You ever notice that when you start to tell people how you weekend was, they cut in, and tell you about theirs? Its like a contest, wow, you should of been with me/us we had a blast, or... god, you think your weekend sucked, check out what happened to me/us..., I mean come on, give it a fucking break.

Oh, and if one more fucking person says at some point in a conversation "...at the end of the day" I am going to bite their fucking nose off, so if you run into folks with taped up noses, know that there is a good chance they misspoke in front of me and they are prone to using old worn out speech patterns last trendy when the Spice Girls were a un-stoppable pop force. And yes, I am a bit moody today, thank-you

Post Five:

To this we give thanks
A few words of thanks:
I wanted to take a moment from my work here at the clinic fitting prosthetics to the legs of poor children (have you ever fitted prosthetics to a child who has fully functional limbs and then made them run, my god, but its good for a belly laugh, and people wonder why I volunteer) to make a comment of thanks to the countless people world-wide who have offered their condolences via e-mail, blog-comments, in-person, telephone, and in one very special case by carrier pigeon. It was very heart-warming, to you dear readers, I say thank-you.

Thought for the Day:
In every American there is an air of incorrigible innocence, which seems to conceal a diabolical cunning. A. E. Housman English classical scholar, poet, & satirist (1859 - 1936)

Post Six:

11th month, 11th day, 11th hour

On Veterans Day:
You know, it’s funny. I got wished a Happy Veterans Day by six people before 9:00 AM this morning. I don’t think I was wished that until after the first Gulf War.

The first time I came back from someplace that people were shooting at us, no one even noticed I was gone, other than my father. I remember when he came to pick me up at the airport. He looked me in the eye and I think that was the first time I ever looked him back, square in the eye. Funny the things that you have to go through before you can really understand your father.

Cold gray Indiana days, always make me miss him, as does anytime I see a documentary on Arlington. My dad, after I got out of the service always called me on Veterans Day, much like when your mom calls you about Midnight Mass or Easter Services, to tell me when the service was at the graveyard. It depended on which organization he was least pissed off with as to where we would stand.

My father was a joiner; he belonged to the VFW, DAV, the Legion, the Korean Vets and the Vietnam Vets. Dad got around. We would go and I would stand there with him and my Uncles (military service was a family business) and his buddies. We would listen to a speech about duty, honor and sacrifice, given by someone who knew what it meant and said to people who understood it more that anyone who has never been could.

After taps, I always went home, most often back to bed, now that he is gone, I wish I could ask him so many things. How do you make sense of it all? How do you pick-up and move on, what worked, and what didn’t. And does it really ever stop?

God-Damn, I am sitting here right now and I would trade so much for a chance to go to the bar with him and his buddies and just listen to their stories. Wow, that caught me by surprise, I am fucking crying, good thing I got up and shut my door.

On another note, I was at a meeting with a bunch of other professionals on Monday, and the subject of PSTD came up and its treatment. I being the only veteran was asked for my prospective on the subject. Being in military is much like having someone stand right behind you with a loaded gun to your head. (Let’s say, for the sake of visualization a Smith and Wesson 44 Magnum revolver, just like the old Dirty Harry movies) you don’t know if the trigger is going to get pulled, but you know its pointed at you head, now this gun is there, 24/7, yes, 24/7, when your training, when your eating, when your sleeping, when your driving your car, when your taking your shower, when your making love, its always there.

I then asked how they thought they might handle the stress, and what long term effects that might have on them the individual. I then proceeded to make this example for someone who goes to combat. You see, in my experience, it’s a little different, The Smith and Wesson 44 Magnum revolver is still there, but instead of all six chambers being loaded, one is, and instead of just pointing it at you, someone is pulling the trigger and you know that one time its going to go boom, your going to run out of luck playing the odds game. You just hope you’re out of the shit before it gets a chance to. Once again, I asked how long they thought they could take that level of stress, and then think about road side bombs, ambushes and snipers, not for an hour but for days that crawl into weeks that slowly add up to months, that will eventually be years. I like giving other professionals models to examine their views.
I will tell you, the long term effects do tend to suck.

To my bothers and sisters, who stand or stood their turn on the wall, I salute you and I give you not only my thanks but my respect. In peacetime or combat, you were willing to go in harms way and give it all for America.

On going to the Dentist:
I hate the dentist, no really I hate the dentist. People often say, well everyone hates going to the dentist. Well they may, but do they have reason to? When I was a young man, in the service of my nation I visited a dentist.

Dear reader let me tell you, all those dental students who squeaked by on C- grades found respect and a steady pay-check in the service of this great land. Let me say that skills in DDSs were somewhat lacking at beautiful and sunny Ft. Bragg, NC. In having my wisdom teeth removed, I found myself 4 days later having to call in my own medivac while engaged in a field problem. (field problems for those not familiar with the term, involve little or no sleep, bad weather, extreme heat or extreme cold, bad and/or little food, and walking around a lot mostly at night, stoping every now and then to dig holes). I spent the next nine days in a military hospital (yes, much differs than those in the civilian world, but they are still better than any VA facility I have had the joy of going to, lets just say Bethesda it wasn’t). Seems I developed a nasty little bone infection from having my wisdom teeth removed.

While working for a state contract agency in an un-named state on the coast of the south that begins with an S and has the same last name as a state to the north, I decided to again give density a try. I had a cavity, and it hurt. I summed my courage and off I went. Well, thinking that hey what’s a cavity? No big deal. Well, about 45 minutes into the root-canal that I was told I needed, that sweet girl from the front desk came back and told the dentist. I juss c-a-ll-ed Bluue Cross and he don’t have no in-sure-ance (I spelled it out for those of you who have never lived in the low-country).

Funny me, I thought my employer was telling truth when he said we had dental insurance, even going to the point of giving us “temporary cards”. It was one of those insurances I was to find out that were only in existence if you didn’t need them. The dentist, true to both form and oath, stopped his work exposed nerves and all. Luckily, there was a retired dentist from New Jersey who lived three doors down from me at the time and he finished the root-canal in his kitchen for 50.00 cash and free golf passes.

Which leads me to today. I have a good dentist and I have learned they are worth their weight in gold and at times they have been known request their payment in that tender. Best of all he hands out drugs (to help with my anxiety, which I don’t have, but the Sweet and Sedated Mrs. John Q. Public enjoys the meds greatly). So, I have just returned from my visit, in and out, no waiting, pleasant, I still don’t like dentistry, I however have a new found respect for the art.

Post Seven:

Oct 14th, and I am John Q. Public
Cause and Effect:

Soon after my return from the hospital this morning, I realized that this no-cussing thing could have some serious health consequences, many that I had not foreseen, which given my amazing powers of perception is in and of its self, odd.

Allow me to start my story, it started as one of a typical fall afternoon in Indiana, sun peeking over the mountain sides, the last of the summer’s flowers in bloom, and the ever present gentle breeze blowing down from the high meadows. It was five, after working in the salt mines all day; I thought to myself that for a bit of recumbence, some distilled sprits were in order. I then proceeded to a little place I know in our friendly harbor town, and placed my order with the tavern keeper who knows me by name.

Ok, who am I kidding…? I was in East Chicago, and ended up enjoying the Blade-Runner like scenery that is Gary, Indiana. After several hours of driving I was close to my home (I was volunteering with the local Lions Club Organ Donation program, northwest Indiana is a great source for free organs. But please! keep that in mind if you ever ask me to drive, my panel van has taken on what at times can best be described as the odor of a meat truck, that and there isn’t any beer in my coolers).

When, suddenly my cell-phone rang. It was Pastor Bob, calling to remind me that I had volunteered to drive the church bus and that the youth group outing to the Roller-Ram-A, was ready. (I know what you think, John Q., Didn’t you say you were a catholic? My answer, why, yes I am, and if you think I am a bad catholic, you should see what kind of Pentecostal I am, I mean, I don’t even like snakes, however…I am fond of Aramaic, and large women in polyester.

My former therapist thinks it goes back to a traumatic experience I had in the all boys elementary school I attended, involving a large lunch lady, but hey, come-on aren’t all lunch ladies large when your 8 years old, thus the second reason I quit seeing my therapist, the first having something to do with an involuntary commitment for 72 hours last month, and further more I don’t care what you or my probation officer say, I am not going back to her, skinny girls, they are all the same, even when they have PhD after their name.

So, after a long day on the road… I find myself behind the wheel of a 48 passenger Blue-Bird school bus circa 1968. with “Solomon’s Tribe” lead by Brother Tim and Sister Ruby (I can tell them apart because Ruby always wears these protestant girl culottes and no make-up, and Tim, has always struck me as one of Madonna’s dancers, or perhaps more like that guy they had dancing over at the “Meet-Market” last Wednesday, and you know what, they were right, his 10 o’clock show was all different from the 8 o’clock show, but that’s an aside. My point is the both give me the creeps). After about 25 minutes of weird kids asking me to help fit their stinky yellow sock covered feet into rented roller-skates all while the hits from the 80’s and today were blaring out of the sound system, only to be punctuated with shouts of, “girls only”, “boys only”, “all-skate”, I truly thought I was going to lose my mind, and there dear reader, is where my evening took an odd turn.

I left, and yes I took the school bus with me, it was a matter of my own good luck that the roller-skating rink (and why do they call it a rink anyway? how about something more accurate like flat enclosed concrete area to skate on, oh! after typing that, I can see why rink is a better term) is located on the by-pass, and luck of all luck, so are several strip-clubs and a few Asian heath spas. And, you know how I feel about the location of the viewing of political debates being tantamount to understanding the existential strife we Americans face every day. There was no way I was going to miss the last debate.

So, out of those clubs available, I picked, the Boob-Hill, a country western themed establishment, now I know what your thinking; huh? John Q, what are you doing in a country and western themed establishment? …and you would be right in doing so, dear reader; I am even un-comfortable with Ponderosa Steak houses, but please keep in mind, my mode of transportation, the bill board outside said; semi parking welcome ( do you know how long a school bus is?), thus with that key bit of information my decision was made, the die cast in a matter of speaking.

That, and I lied to Pastor Bob, I don’t have a CDL license, matter of fact I don’t have an Indiana drivers license, why do you think I volunteer at these places, well I will tell you why! What cop is going to pull over a panel van with the sign Lions Club International Organ Donation Response Vehicle, or an old bus with Greater Grace New Tabernacle Faith Church and Show Choir painted on the side? …and best of all they let me take them home! So needless to say I am less than skilled at parking that big thing, but fortuitously, there was a spot right in front.

I must have appeared visibility shaken, because the bartender and the bouncer both approached me upon my arrival, here is where I must admit, I was a little embarrassed. It seems that in my haste to flee, I had forgotten that I myself was wearing a pair of roller-skates, understanding why they though it odd, that a man would park a church bus in front of their bar, and get out wearing a pair of skates, I skated over to the bar, sitting down I proceeded to tell them about how I came to be in such a situation, including natural beauty of Gary, the Lions Club, the Church outing, my skates, the vow of not cussing for a week, and why I believe strip clubs to be ideal places to watch presidential debates.

Kindly, they agreed to let me stay, with the proviso that I don’t cause any trouble, at this point I could see the bouncer fingering his tooth necklace, I assured them, that I would be no trouble, none what-so-ever. The one draw-back to my plan so far had been that I would have to watch the event on closed captioning; however the ever present dollar dance eased my mind. I find that when driving church buses a combination of Absolute vodka on the rocks with double shots of Rumplemist go a long way to claming ones nerves, (and I would welcome any comments from my fellow church bus divers, on their self-medication of choice).

Needless to say, I enjoyed the debate, and was able to re-turn to the skating rink after only 7 attempts to call me, (it was loud in there, to the point that I still have the line “save a horse, ride a cowboy” going through my head) At my return, I apologized for my tardiness, explaining the long wait at the school bus oil change place. While driving back to the church, it first became evident, even to me…the un-mistakable scent of vomit in the stale air of that old bus.

Now I don’t know about you, but all I have to do is smell up-chuck and I am gagging, so try this on a belly full of top-shelf liquors and free miniature corn-dogs. It seems some of the Christian kids and at least one of the adults suffers from the same affliction. Here, is where I came close to cussing, after dropping everyone off at the church and making a suggestion to Pastor Bob and anyone else who could hear that perhaps, just perhaps, the snack of cold meat sandwiches and Jello -Surprise (what is it with Prots. and Jello anyway, you never see that stuff in a catholic home) followed by Sams Club sodas, pop rocks and physical activity was not a good idea. I left.

Driving up the long winding road to my estate, I had to turn up the radio (AM 1380) so not to hear the swishing sound emanating from the back of the bus. Now, I have to ask, have you ever tried to get off of a 1968 Blue Bird school bus, after consuming 6 vodkas on the rocks and at least 8 double shots of Rumplemist, while wearing a pair of roller skates, keeping in mind there is about a ½ inch of emesis on the floor of said bus? Dear reader, no easy task.

At which point, I come to the nearly tragic accident, I went into my humble home, changed out of my skates and showered, climbing the stairs and heading to bed. At, which point the beautiful Mrs. John Q, Public enters the story. It seems the Boy-Band she has been promoting tirelessly was taking a break from the county fair and National Guard Amory circuit, and she was in town, I however had forgotten to pick her up at the bus station, I told her that much like the Cubs and Notre Dame's football program, I can not be depended on to come through every time.

She asked me about my day, I quite truthfully I told her that there was no way I could tell her about my day with out cussing, so, she suggested I act it out, much like the game of charades, now I like any other mid-westerner am always up for a game charades or euchre, even after as trying a day as mine. So, I proceeded to jump up on the bed and act out my day, all with out saying a word, much I imagine like a mime on acid (and you know how I feel about mimes, like clowns, they freak me out) and Mrs. John Q. did good… up until, the getting off the bus part of my story, at which time, in my effort to act it out, I fell off the bed, in the process biting of the tip of my tongue, (for the sixth time in my life, however this was the first time I myself had done it).

Now, have you ever had your tongue bitten off? Let me tell you about the first thing they will ask you, when you walk in to ER bleeding like a stuck pig, holding one of those nice hand towels your mother-in-law made for your wedding gift to your tongue, attempting to hold it on. They will ask, and I quote. “What seems to be the problem?” I at that time I took the opportunity to reply: “Whaaff taouufk theniik havened tu me, I beeit mey fugggen tong off” Yes, dear reader… I broke, not even a full 24 hours into it, and I cussed, however… I will take some degree of privilege here, and say it doesn’t count because A) neither the ER nurse nor the attending physician, Dr. Ram Av-dual-I, an old chum from my med-school days back in the Bahamas, could understand what I was saying, and B) because they both quite honestly were idiots, this is were Mrs. John Q. made the suggestion to me, "well honey…why don’t you act it out for them" (of course she thought this most amusing). Thank-Goodness, I was able to use and indelible ink marker and a bed sheet to write my story down, I almost lost them around the part about the putting skates on kids feet, but they got the over all story. And, thankfully due to insurance, I was able to get treatment before passing out from loss of blood.

Which of course brings to me the debate, Kerry, Kerry, Kerry, oh, wait lets try this on, Pres. Kerry… kind make you giggle doesn’t it, ha! Ha! Ha! We are going to win! Now of course it would be different if it was say McCain/Powel, wow… what a world that would be… But you know what I say: Vote Kerry/Edwards, Vote Early, and Vote Often!

To-days Legal Fact:
Did you know that’s its illegal to transport a human body across state lines unless you are licensed to do so? It is in fact a federal offence, a violation of the Inter-State Commerce Act. Just thought you might like to know, I found out the hard way.

passed out

Quote of the day:
and yes, its the same guy, but he is so gosh-darn-friggen-good,
A fanatic is one who can't change his mind and won't change the subject.
Sir Winston ChurchillBritish politician (1874 - 1965)

Monday, June 27, 2005

Slipping down the rabbit hole and other camp fire stories:

Thought for the Day:
Life... is like a grapefruit. It's orange and squishy, and has a few pips in it, and some folks have half a one for breakfast.
Douglas Adams English humorist & science fiction novelist (1952 - 2001)

And what a weekend it was sports fans:
I spent a wonderful evening with the company of the local Greek and Macedonian community. I ask you, where else can a man like me fulfill his love a slow roasted lamb, octopus and hairy women all at one spot.
Greek woman are hot It is truly a one stop shop for a man of my nature. The cultural event was well attended and I must admit, I found it more enjoyable than the Highland games.

In the morning I awoke early (yes, I am the guy who mows his yard at 6:45am, with NPR blaring) to get a few things done around the house, by nine I was showered and off to yet another charity event, people love my talents in balloon art, so I am always in great demand this time of year.

After my appearance, I was off to the primitive state of Ohio, where some friends of mine from my days with the Regiment, run, shall I say an, “institute”. We spent some time reminiscing about.....
one year at summer camp ...“that one time in summer camp kinds of things” and spent the rest of the afternoon throwing our bodies at the earth from great heights.
…and no, I didn’t end up in the hospital, or re-injure my leg, much to the dismay of those present, and I might add, much to the dissatisfaction of the sweet and kind Mrs. JQP, who I am told had a rather tidy sum bet that I would end-up being transported by ambulance.

We returned late, after being stopped at the border check-point to make sure we were not trying to smuggle in any Buckeye refugees or cat pelts back into Indiana (in the past few years, both have become a bit of a problem, less so now since we have sealed the border).

It was off to early Mass (since I was reading). And then home to a wonderful breakfast cooked by my ever so thoughtful and loving wife, we had pancakes, sausage, sausage gravy, eggs over easy, corned beef hash, and fried mush. After that light meal we went with a few friends down to one of the many (pretty and clear) rivers that dot the landscape around the city we call home and kayaked till dark. Later in the evening I spent time soaking in a tub reading some Tolstoy. All in all, a rather normal weekend.

Is the day of the much awaited site visit, it is with joy that I will put this behind me. Tonight, I will start preparing my “sick-room” in anticipation of my return home to the manor house post surgery. Perhaps, depending on how my state review goes, I might stop by my favorite bar for a drink of celebration or mourning.

Your Political thought for the Day:
I just shit my pants
(Caption:” Hee, hee, ya know, best of all no can tell, I cut ‘em pockets, outa my pants

In Other News:
Pastor Bob recently retuned from his two week trip with his family around the Cape of Detroit in a 1/3 scale replica on Kon Tiki, that he made in his basement over the winter.
Kon Tiki Look for a documentary of his trip airing next October on the Discovery Channel, or in August’s edition of “Boy’s Life”.

Your Bill for the day:
Oh, I am fortune's fool!"
--From Romeo and Juliet (III, i, 141)

Your Quote of the Day:
In the name of God, stop a moment, cease your work, look around you.
Leo Tolstoy Russian mystic & novelist (1828 - 1910)

I remain, much like a wishing well:

JQP esq.

Saturday, June 25, 2005

Your Joke for the Weekend:

Well since I am going to be hanging out with some old army buddies this weekend, I thought a Army joke was in order. I know to some of you it might not be funny but this one made me giggle:

Rangers vs Special Forces

The Chief of Staff of the Army asked his Sergeant Major, who was both Ranger and Special Forces qualified, which organization he would recommend to form a new anti-terrorist unit. The Sergeant Major responded to the General's question with this parable: If there were a hijacked Boeing 747 being held by terrorists along with its passengers and crew and an anti-terrorist unit formed either by the Rangers or the Special Forces was given a Rescue/Recovery Mission; what would you expect to happen?

Ranger Option

Forces/Equipment Committed:
If the Rangers went in, they would send a Ranger company of 120 men with standard army issue equipment.

Mission Preparation:
The Ranger Company First Sergeant would conduct a Hair Cut and Boots Inspection.

Infiltration Technique:
They would insist on double timing, in company formation, wearing their combat equipment, and singing Jody cadence all the way to the site of the hijacked aircraft.

Actions in the Objective Area:
Once they arrived, the Ranger company would establish their ORP, put out security elements, conduct a leaders recon, reapply their face cammo, and conduct final preparations for Actions on the OBJ.

Results of Operation:
The Rescue/Recovery Operation would be completed within one hour; all of the terrorists and most of the passengers would have been killed, the Rangers would have sustained light casualties and the 747 would be worthless to anyone except a scrap dealer.

Special Forces Option

Forces/Equipment Committed:
If Special Forces went in, they would send only a 12 man team (all SF units are divisible by 2 for some arcane historical reason) however, due to the exotic nature of their equipment the SF Team would cost the same amount to deploy as the Ranger Company.

Mission Preparation:
The SF Team Sergeant would request relaxed grooming standards for the team.

Infiltration Technique:
The team would insist on separate travel orders with Max Per Diem, and each would get to the site of the hijacking by his own means. At least one third of the team would insist on jumping in.

Actions in the Objective Area:
Once they arrived , the SF Team would cache their military uniforms, establish a Team Room, use their illegal Team Fund to stock the unauthorized Team Room Bar, check out the situation by talking to the locals, and have a Team Meeting to discuss the merits of the terrorists' cause.

Results of Operation:
The Rescue/Recovery Operation would take two weeks to complete and by that time all of the terrorists would have been killed, (and would have left signed confessions); the passengers would be ruined psychologically for the remainder of their lives; and all of the women passengers would be pregnant. The 747 would be essentially unharmed, the team would have taken no casualties but would have used up, lost, or stolen all the "high speed" equipment issued to them.

Such is life in boots, with the elite...


Friday, June 24, 2005

Help me, I have fallen and I cant get up:

Thought for the Day:
It has been my experience that folks who have no vices have very few virtues.
Abraham Lincoln 16th president of US (1809 - 1865)

I would like to start off today’s posting with giving thanks to the Dali Lamma for the inspiration he has given me. Dali, you my bitch!

The night that was/the day that is/the weekend that will be:
I spent the night picking up charitable contributions from area crack houses, after attending No-Love-Thursday, I rounded out the night with at a seedy strip club that’s chief claim to fame is that it has in its employ a midget or Little Person as they prefer to be called and yes I slow down for traffic accidents.

Today I am hard at work, saving the world as we know it. Tonight I am off to Greekfest, for lamb, song and hairy women. Saturday, I am working on the house in the early hours, skydiving (what, afraid I might fuck-up my knee and need surgery?) with friends in the afternoon and later that evening attending Spicefest (yes, we even have a festival for pepper and nutmeg). Sunday, I am reading at Mass (btw: soon I will be able to get communion for shut-in’s) and Monday and Tuesday, the state reviewers are in, worry not children they will be dazzled by my charm.

Health Matters:
Ok kids, I am in the count down phase, next Wednesday I go under the knife. So, don’t look for JQP for a few days. I can not tell you how much I am not looking forward to this turn of events, but such is the price for a life well lived. I would like to give special thanks to Indy-Girl who out the goodness of her heart has volunteered to come to the hospital and give me sponge baths. I am freaked out about having a dead guy’s knee (however, he was from TX, so perhaps it will want to vote Republican) the month of bed rest and the being on crutches till Oct. Gee, can’t see why I am not looking forward to the event of a lifetime here. Mrs. JQP is interviewing home health aids, so if any of you would like to apply, just let me know. I plan to do some reposts for you reading enjoyment, so if you have a favorite let me know.

Your Recipe for the Weekend “Oysters Indiana”:

Really turn heads at the neighborhood carry-in with this dish! A favorite hot or cold!

2 pounds fresh testicles (cow or pig).

1 cup white bleached flower

1/4 cup cornmeal

1 cup cheap red wine (Kosher for Passover)

Three tbl spoons of salt

6 tbl spoons of course black pepper

2 tbl spoons of garlic powder

2 tbl spoons of Allspice

1/3 cup of brown sugar

Tabasco to taste

6 beers

Fry Daddy or 1 inch cooking oil in a cast iron skillet

Oysters Indiana

First drink the beers, trust me you will need them.

With a very sharp knife, split the tough skin-like muscle that surrounds each "oyster". Remove the skin. Set the "oysters" into a pan with enough salt water to cover them for one hour (this takes out some of the blood). Drain.

Transfer "oysters" to large pot. Add enough water to float "oysters" and a generous tablespoon of vinegar. Parboil, drain, and rinse. Let cool and slice each "oyster" into 1/4" thick ovals. Sprinkle salt and pepper on both sides of sliced "oyster" to taste.

Mix flour, cornmeal and spices to taste in a bowl. Roll each "oyster" slice into this dry mixture. Dip into milk. Dip into dry mixture. Dip into wine quickly (you may repeat the procedure if a thicker crust is desired). Place each "oyster" into hot cooking oil.

Add hot sauce to cooking oil (to taste). Cook until golden brown or tender, and remove with a slotted spoon or wire strainer. (Careful the longer they cook, the tougher they will become)

Drain and serve on paper plates.

Your Songs for the Weekend:
Poor Boy Blues - Chet Atkins and Mark Knopfler
Wild Side of Life - Hank Thompson
I'm Blue Again - Patsy Cline
Dede Priscilla - Lea Lignanzi
Caballo Viejo - Robert Torres
Beale Street Mama - Cab Calloway
Emabhaceni - Miriam Makeba

Your Bill for the Day:
Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth,
That having such a scope to show her pride,
The argument all bare is of more worth
Than when it hath my added praise beside!
O, blame me not, if I no more can write!
Look in your glass, and there appears a face
That over-goes my blunt invention quite,
Dulling my lines and doing me disgrace.
Were it not sinful then, striving to mend,
To mar the subject that before was well?
For to no other pass my verses tend
Than of your graces and your gifts to tell;
And more, much more, than in my verse can sit
Your own glass shows you when you look in it.

Quote of the Day:
It is much easier to try one's hand at many things than to concentrate one's powers on one thing. Quintilian, Roman rhetorician

Peeing on toliet seats, I remain:

JQP esq.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

No-Love Thursday, a day of promise:

Thought for the Day:
Every moment of one's existence one is growing into more or retreating into less.
Norman Mailer US journalist & novelist (1923 - )

The Day Ahead:
Dear reader, I know that this might come a shock to you, but there are ever present forces at work to keep me from writing the truth, call it a vast right-wing conspiracy or One World Government, what ever the name the effect is still the same. Worry, not dear friends, I shall struggle on, did Trotsky give up when he was handing out tracks in Czarist Russia? I shall fight on.

Today however, is about the last day to prep for two site visits, send out two grants, plus court today and tomorrow, and I have also agreed to help with a very large fund raiser here at the orphanage. I raise every year quite a princely sum, all for the children, due in large part because I am a thinker, the fund raising consists largely of selling tickets for a chance to win one of many fine gifts. So, I being the previously mentioned thinker, employ local drug dealers to sell said tickets for me, while you might not agree with drug dealers selling tickets to help a charity, I look at it as an opportunity to applaud the American entrepreneurial sprit at its most true form, to do anything less would be un-patriotic.

Tonight, my attendance at No-Love-Thursday, will be brief, consisting of fulfilling my role as Chaplin of this fine organization of great minds, (think the illuminati of the bar crowd). I am filling in for Pastor Bob, who is still sailing around the Cape of Detroit with his family in the 1/3 scale replica of Kon Tiki, I know like you, we all eagerly await his return. In the brief moments of free time today, I will be busy shaking down my Peeps (aka: Perps) in an effort to raise money for clean drinking water for the children here at the orphanage (most of the children come from primitive Ohio tribes along the boarder, Thank-God for the brave missionaries, who work with these “tribes”, I have said it before and I will say it again, there is something very special about giving a Buckeye child their first pair of shoes, let alone teaching them English).

Your Spanking of the Day Goes to:
spanking 1
...Drum Roll...
Donny Rum
Donald is this week’s winner! If ever a boy ever needed a spanking it would be lil’ Donny. I mean it’s not enough that he breaks things and blames others, has been know to lie, wets the bed, and pushes the poor retarded kid down the block around, you must also take into account the friends he keeps.
Donny Rum and Friends
So, after carful consideration, Donny Rumsfeld, is your “Spanking of the Week”. To be admistered by these troops who still don’t have body armor or armored vehicles, hows that for turning the corner. (I guess I am old enough to remember Westmoreland saying we were winning).

Your Bill for the Day:
And thus I clothe my naked villainy
With old odd ends, stol'n forth of holy writ;
And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.

Quote of the day:
Work is not always required. There is such a thing as sacred idleness.
George MacDonald Scottish novelist & poet (1824 - 1905)

Kayaking down the St. Lawrence Sea Way, I remain:

JQP esq.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Wish you were here!

I wanted to include a photo taken from my party last night.


I'll take mine well done, thank-you

More News at the Top of the Hour:
Dear readers, I know that many of you have been waiting with bated breath for the JQP Birthday Party Re-cap and Extravaganza.

Sadly, there is nothing of note to report. I went home right after work and spent the night reading my Bible and watching movies on Lifetime with my wife. That’s my story and I am sticking to it.

I don’t have a lot of time to write today I have a early morning meeting across town and many reports to due, but with any luck I will be able to ponder mans role in the universe a bit later on today. As always I wish you all the best.

Looking and feeling my best, I remain:

JQP esq.

Your Poem for the Day:

The Mayor of Gary

I asked the mayor of Gary about the 12-hour day and the 7-day week.
And the mayor of Gary answered more workmen steal time on the job in Gary than any other place in the United States.

"Go into the plants and you will see men sitting around doing nothing--machinery does everything," said the mayor of Gary when I asked him about the 12-hour day and the 7-day week.

And he wore cool cream pants, the Mayor of Gary, and white shoes, and a barber had fixed him up with a shampoo and a shave and he was east and imperturbable though the government weather bureau thermometer said 96 and children were soaking their heads at bubbling fountains on the street corners.

And I said good-bye to the Mayor of Gary and I went out from the city hall and turned the corner into Broadway.

And I saw workmen wearing leather shoes scruffed with fire and cinders, and pitted with little holes from running molten steel,


And some had bunches of specialized muscles around their shoulder blades hard as pig iron, muscles of their forearms were sheet steel and they looked to me like men who had been somewhere.

Carl Sandburg

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Joyeux anniversaire à moi:

Thought for the Day:
The surprising thing about young fools is how many survive to become old fools.
Doug Larson

The Birthday Boy:
I shaved my nipples for you
While this is not an actual picture of me, please let is serve has a visual representation of myself for those of you who have not met me, but offen think of me in special ways during your periods of self abuse.

Attack on the Inland Seas:
Last Night, while waiting on a meeting with some covert operatives that I had last employed in my mission against Author Anderson, I was joined at the bar by Tony Two Times and “M. Chamberlain, Newspaper Man”, and what I wonderful chat we had about; the 58 Mets, and the meaning of post modern art in today’s post industrial society.

While, enjoying fruity drinks with little umbrellas on the Promenade Deck, the phone rang, it was Pastor Bob calling on ship-to-shore from his 1/3 scale replica of Kon Tiki that he is sailing around the Cape of Detroit with his family, you an avid reader know how Pastor Bob always has felt the call of the sea.

It seems that several days ago, he had to fight off a boarding attempt by Drunken Canadians in Bass Boats, who were hell bent on exacting revenge on Americas, blaming us for the canceling of the NHL season. He fought them off by throwing cans of Weidman’s Beer and Culari tipped spears he keeps on hand for just such events.

Yet another Example of why I quit teaching middle school:
head in chair

Today is the Day of the Steak:
I live for steaks, I love steaks, and today it is steaks for me. Steak and eggs, Philly steak, 16oz T-Bones, Rib Eye, Sirloin, its all good… My goal today is to eat a princely portion of a bovine. Meat: its whats for Dinner!

Party on a Tuesday? Why not:
Tonight my loving and petite bride is throwing me a surprise birthday party at my favorite bar; it starts at 4:00pm and ends when we are done. You are all welcome, please bring gifts.

Sweet Dreams and Early Presents:
This morning I found myself in a rather odd dream, yes it was odd for even me. I dreamt that I was making love with Marilyn Monroe, while Joe DiMaggio and JFK watched. I am sure you have had a dream much like it at one time or another, however two things came to mind for me, one was that I really wanted Joe to sign a baseball for me, so I could sell it on E-Bayand two that I really had to pee.

It was then I realized this was no dream. Let me explain, during the wee hours of this morning, my sweet and loving bride had crawled on top of me and was in the process of riding me like a circus pony.

At which point she started singing to me “happy birthday, JQP…. happy birthday…JQP haaaa-ppp-y birrrrthday”. Needless to say it beat getting a tie or aftershave. There is something intently wonderful about morning sex, its even better when you do it with someone..

Your Bill for the Day:
"When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?"
--From Macbeth (I, i, 1-2)

Quote for the Day:
The Military has carried the American ideal to its logical conclusion. Not only do they prohibit discrimination on the grounds of race, creed and color, but also on ability.
Tom LehrerUS humorist, singer, & songwriter (1928 - )

I remain, well oiled and naked all but for my cowboy boots:

JQP esq.

JQP’s summertime drink recipes:

In order to help you get in to the sprit of celebrating my birthday, today the day of Summer Solstice, I am doing a best of for the past few months, all taste tested by yours truly… Enjoy your celebration, and drink one to half a dozen for me….

Malaysian Wormer Drink Recipe

Drink Ingredients:
2 ½ oz. Pineapple Juice
1 dash Grenadine
1 1/2 oz. Light Rum
1 1/2 oz. Triple Sec
2 oz. Bacardi 151
fill with Red Bull

Traditionally, this drink is created in an empty 20oz bottle of water. Fill the bottle 1/4 full of crushed ice. Add the 3 shots in any order. Add the dash of Grenadine. Fill with Red Bull and pineapple. Close the cap, and shake.

No-noon-no’s Drink Recipe

Drink Ingredients:
1 oz. Rum
Top With Whipped Cream
Wedge Lime
1 oz. Kahlua

Run cut side of lime around rim of large goblet or heat- proof wineglass. Invert glass and swirl in sugar to frost rim. Add rum and liquor. Pour in coffee to within about 1 in. of rim; stir. Taste for sweetness; add sugar, if desired. Pile on whipped cream

The Pamplona Trot

2 1/4 oz. Tequila
3/4 oz. Kahlua
3/4 oz. Capt. Morgan’s Spiced Rum
Fill with “Red Bull”
(To make a Pamplona Walk add Cream, serve chilled in a pint glass)

Bush Ranger Drink Recipe:
Drink Ingredients:
2 oz. Light Rum
1 Lemon Twist
1 dash Bitters
1/2 oz. Dubonnet Rouge

In a mixing glass half-filled with ice cubes, combine the rum, Dubonnet, and bitters. Stir well. Strain into a cocktail glass and garnish with the lemon twist.

Horny Girl Drink Recipe:
Drink Ingredients:
1 Part Peppermint Schnapps
1 Part Kahlua

Add the coffee liqueur first since it is heavier than the schnapps. Slowly add the peppermint schnapps.

Panty-Jam Drink Recipe

Drink Ingredients:
1 oz. Orange Juice
2 oz. Lemon Juice
2 oz. 151 Rum
1/2 oz. Peach Schnapps
2 Powdered Sugar
1/4 oz. Banana Liqueur
1/2 oz. Strawberry Liqueur
1/2 oz. Dekuyper Sour Apple Pucker Schnapps

blend ingredients with crushed ice until smooth and pour into parfait glass, garnish with mint sprig and a maraschino cherry

Abe Froman Drink Recipe

Drink Ingredients:
3 oz. Vodka
3 oz. Grenadine
9 oz. Lemonade

Add vodka to rack glass. Then add desired lemonade. Top off with grenadine syrup for red appearance and berry flavor. Enjoy!

May misfortune follow you the rest of your life,
but never catch up.


Your Poet-Sage for the Week:

The definitive rock group known as Brewer & Shipley


One toke over the line sweet Jesus
One toke over the line
Sittin' downtown in a railway station
One toke over the line

Awaitin' for the train that goes home, sweet Mary
Hopin' that the train is on time
Sittin' downtown in a railway station
One toke over the line

Whoooo do you love, I hope it's me
I've bin a changin', as you can plainly see
I felt the joy and I learned about the pain that my momma said
If I should choose to make a part of me, surely strike me dead
Now I'm one toke over the line sweet Jesus
One toke over the line
Sittin' downtown in a railway station
One toke over the line
I'm waitin' for the train that goes home sweet Mary
Hopin' that the train is on time
Sittin' downtown in a railway station
One toke over the line

I bin away a country mile,
Now I'm returnin' showin' off a smile
I met all the girls and loved myself a few
Ended by surprise like everything else I've been through
It opened up my eyes and now I'm
One toke over the line sweet Jesus
One toke over the line
Sittin' downtown in a railway station
Don't you just know I waitin' for the train that goes home sweet Mary
Hopin' that the train is on time
Sittin' downtown in a railway station
One toke over the line

Don't you just know I waitin' for the train that goes home sweet Mary
Hopin' that the train is on time
Sittin' downtown in a railway station
One toke over the line

I want to be
One toke over the line sweet Jesus
One toke over the line
Sittin' downtown in a railway station
One toke over the line
Don't you just know I waitin' for the train that goes home sweet Mary
Hopin' that the train is on time
Sittin' downtown in a railway station
One toke over the line
Sittin' downtown in a railway station
One toke over line
One toke, one toke over the line

Bogart'en my ass off, dude...

Monday, June 20, 2005

I’ve Been Down so Goddamn long, it looks like up to me:

Thought for the Day:
Mistakes are the portals of discovery.
James Joyce Irish author (1882 - 1941)

Brief Weekend Review:
I happen to live in the summertime event capital of northeastern Indiana. This weekend it was Rib Fest, last week it was the Highland Games and Germanfest, this coming weekend its Greekfest (a personal favorite of yours truly, chiefly because I like hairy Mediterranean women).

Friday was spent in repose at a local watering hole, in an effort to conduct some business (more on that at a later date). Saturday, was a day spent (and I do mean spent, as in cash out of my pocket) enjoying ribs and pulled pork while drinking tall-boys and listening to the Blues.

Nether the food or the bands were particularly note worthy (I am after all a Blues man at heart and can cook some bad ass ribs). Sunday, it was off to early Mass (had to light a few candles for those not there), and then work on the house time, however I did make steaks and potatoes with peas and carrots, not to mention the fresh homemade biscuits, Happy Father’s to me a Non-Breeder.

On Haunting:
Both the sweet and loving Mrs. JQP and I found ourselves a bit depressed on Sunday, even while trying to busy ourselves with work at hand, for me I think it stems from the lost of my Father and Grandfather, my up coming surgery (being bed ridden for a month due to an experimental surgery, I would wager is not high on anyone’s list) and perhaps most telling, both my bride and I were going to announce her pregnancy on Fathers Day, sadly, very sadly, that did not turn out as we had hoped.

I spoke in the afternoon to J. Thom the Jazzman, our conversation turned toward getting older and some of the rather insane things we had done in the period of youthful indiscretion known as the decade of our 20’s, then on to the Blues we had listened to and how bad it was, at which point, J. Thom said “well, it must of not been that bad, it had you both bummed out today, the only thing wrong with ya’ll is ya got the blues, daddy-o” Point made and point taken.

However one of the draw backs to living such a colorful life as mine, is that at times it is rather easy to be haunted by things you have seen, done, had done to you, or that you have felt, haunted by history and un-fulfilled dreams, at times like this, I find it best for me to reflect on what I do have, and where God or Lady Luck has smiled on me, that and to remind myself, that I am no pussy, been there and done that, got the tee-shirt, so in a sense the words my Drill Sergeant taught me in my youth hold true today “Fuck-it, it ain’t nothing but a thing, suck-up and move on, All the Way, Everyday”.

Todays Bill:
In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn,
But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing,
In act thy bed-vow broke and new faith torn,
In vowing new hate after new love bearing.
But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee,
When I break twenty? I am perjured most;
For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee
And all my honest faith in thee is lost,
For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness,
Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy,
And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness,
Or made them swear against the thing they see;
For I have sworn thee fair; more perjured I,
To swear against the truth so foul a lie!

Quote of the Day:
Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor.
Truman Capote US author (1924 - 1984)

Like sandbags against the rising flood, I remain:


Friday, June 17, 2005

"Vive l'Algerie"

Thought for the Day:
One can acquire everything in solitude - except character.
Marie Henri Beyle French biographer & novelist (1783 - 1842)

A Recap of No-Love Thursday, With JQP as your moderator:
(Roger Mudd is on special assignment)

It was late afternoon when I walked across the parking lot to my favorite bar. I found that my presence was anticipated, by the multitudes of individuals who had crowded into the shot-gun shack like space that is my bar. Tonight, Thursday night, was Secret Initiation Day, for the new members of the institution called “No-Love-Thursday” Say its name with reverence, utter it in fear.

Since my chairmanship had expired last month “M. Chamberlain Newspaper Man”, lead the ceremonies, with Tony Two Times acting as Sergeant of Arms. I busied my self with drink and commentary cocktail weenies with mini-tacos.

There were three candidates for inclusion into or tight knit group (think a Special Forces A-Team for the bar set) all were women (hey we like boobs and butts). They had survived the first three tests, first being told it was called "no love tuesday", and missing the meeting, second the ability and willingness to buy drinks for fellow members in good standing, and third, they didn’t hate me yet. Notice the word yet and its place in the preceding sentence, because dear read, yet, was what it was.

Now for the key test, I made fun of these fine women, in many ways, at which point my colleagues joined in the bloodletting, dorsal fins prominent. After a few tears and a hasty uttered fuck-you, there was only one candidate left, survival of the fittest, there are no weak links at this bar. She instead of being offended took time to plan an attack, and cut me to the bone, yes, she shut the great JQP down. She today proudly has the probationary nickname of BBB or Bitter Banker Bitch. Welcome and good will to you sister!

In other News:
When asked what news story he is currently investigating in the finest traditions of yellow journalism, “M. Chamberlain Newspaper Man” replied that he is doing in depth research into that infamous miscarriage of justice involving the Fatty Arbuckle Case and he soon feels he will have enough to go to press with.
Your heard it here folks, the Fatty Arbuckle case is being reopened buy one brave newspaper man who is not afraid of the truth.

Back to the grindstone, I have a state site visit in 8 days to get set-up for, so its data time. I am hoping to cut out a bit early to help with a few fund raisers, for orphans and the lame. My appearance is much sought after at such events, due to the fact it adds a level of respectability and a giddy joy, to said events. How ever the one draw back is the damn paparazzi, they follow me everywhere; I am thinking about filing suit against both People Magazine and Reader Digest, they are the worst.
This was taken not more than ten minutes ago outside my office window, do you see how these people willingly violate my privacy. However I should note that the one in the back ground is Rose Alice, the current President of my Fan club and egg donor.

Your Bill for the Day:
"O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!" --From King Richard III (V, iii, 179)

Quote for the Day:
That you may retain your self-respect, it is better to displease the people by doing what you know is right, than to temporarily please them by doing what you know is wrong.
William J. H. Boetcker

I remain, blemish free:

JQP esq.

Thursday, June 16, 2005

One of those list things everyone is doing these days, ala JQP

A dare from http://www.masterfoley.com/...

1. Who are you?

2. Are we friends?

3. When and how did we meet?

4. Do you have a crush on me?

5. Would you kiss me?

6. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.

7. Describe me in one word.

8. What was your first impression?

9. Do you still think that way about me now?

10. What reminds you of me?

11. If you could give me anything what would it be?

12. How well do you know me?

13. When’s the last time you saw me?

14. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn’t?

15. Would you file a restraining order against me?

16. You like me you hold your hand while you died?

17. Would you like to see me naked?

18. Would you like to bare my children?

19. Would you hire me to make a “problem” go away?

20. Would you send me naked pictures of yourself?

21. Would you like to go get shit faced falling down drunk with me?

22. Did we serve together in the war?

23. Do you think that most of what I write is true?

24. What do you think I do for a living?

25. What religion are you?

26. Have we ever had sex?

27. Did we go to a DOD school together?

28. Shaved or un-shaved?

29. Have you ever tried one of my drinks?

30. What do you like about my blog?

Extra Credit: . Are you going to put this on your blog and see what I say about you?


I had to crawl through broken glass to get to my car last night:

Thought for the Day:
Never trust the advice of a man in difficulties.
Aesop Greek slave & fable author (620 BC - 560 BC)

On all Day Trainings:
Yesterday, I was forced at gun-point to attend an all day training put on by Notre Dame’s business school. It was on leadership and much to my surprise, I enjoyed the training. The chair sucked, the room was to cold and the box lunch should of been shoved up the ass of the person who made it, but the content of the training was alright.

I was put on by the big minds in business leadership, etc… you know the kind of people who will sit there and tell you its ok that they make 300 mil. a year because damn-it they are better than the rest of us.

I know what your thinking, JQP you’re a liberal democrat, what the hell? ...and dear reader you would be right in saying so, but one thing Sun Tzu showed me when mommy read me his thoughts in the crib, was that “You must know your Enemy”. (some families had vaction homes, we had our own bunker at a "compound" in northern Montana)

Now to the point that I enjoyed, it seems my management style is back in vogue. It was taught the fine art of leadership in the military; it was a system that worked well for me. It had some simple ideas like, everyone pulls their own weight, success leads to merit, and privileges are earned.

Sadly. I started my professional career when the craze was “Team-Think”, “Work-Groups”, and the management philosophy was and this is no shit “there are no bad employees, only bad mangers” obviously, someone watched Bing Crosby in “Boys Town” one to many times before they got their MBA became a consultant and shoved that load of crap down everyone’s throats.

I must say, today I feel vindicated. Because, I run my staff like a platoon and folks it works, I let them slide when they have earned it, and work their tails off when it needs to be done, but most of all I lead from the front, not from behind a desk.

Last Night:
I sold over 48 tickets for the charity at the local “health spa’s” over by the cheap motels and the truck stop. It helped that I was with two members of the local law enforcement community. I also sold some at a few of the tap-houses on the city's un-fashionable south side. I was home by 7, and once again, against the odds, sober.

My bride however, was not feeling well, she had left work early in the afternoon, and spent the better part of the evening in bed, at her request I made some Gazpacho. I then watched BBC, I am getting to be a huge fan of “This is Britain”, that shit just tickles me to death, oh, I did call J "Thom the Jazz" man down in Memphis, to wish him a happy birthday one day early, at which point Mrs. JQP and I sang to him, I was glad I caught him, since he is going to “take the waters” at some spa resort in the mountains.

Oh and here is how to make:

JQP’s Gazpacho Soup
(and yes its served cold, with no cooking, think really, really, chunky salsa that you get to eat from the bowl. Nothing better on a hot day)

8 ripe Roma tomatoes
4 ripe Beef Heart tomatoes
1 green bell pepper
1 red bell pepper
1 yellow bell pepper
2 cucumbers (pealed)
½ a white onion
1 clove of garlic
1 leek
10 radishes
1 zucchini (pealed)
1 turnip
1/4 cup olive oil
dash of vinegar
dash of salt
dash of pepper
dash of Tabasco
juice of ½ lemon or lime
One bottle Spicy V-8 (use the remainder for Bloody Mary’s)

Shit this one is easy as hell. Dice everything and dump it all together cover and chill.

Your Vocabulary Words for the Week:

Biscuit Taken:
To have gotten violated or dominated in the worst way in a game, sport, or any kind of competition or to have gotten raped/violated by a big con in jail or burly lumberjack/redneck.

"Damn man, did you see how Democrats got their biscuit taken?"
"I'm not gonna just sit here and get my biscuit taken, damnit!"
"She dumped your sorry ass, let's just face it, you got your biscuit taken."

Midas Fuck:
Root in Similar to the Midas Touch; The Midas Fuck is when the group sex fiend has sex any new female that comes around making them totally undesirable for anyone else to pursue due to the fear of disease or the knowledge that the “tramp” has already had sex with someone who has sexual connections with 80% of the western hemisphere, and parts of the southern.

“Wow, Sarah is so hot, I should see if she wants to go see a movie or something”
“No way man, Dan gave her the Midas Fuck last week, she is a lost cause”
“Oh god, remember guys, she’s s a 15 foot minimum safe distance, any closer and you could get the Ebola-aids. I’ll go plastic wrap the couch again”

Kawaii Chibi Youkai:
Kawaii means cute, Chibi means child-like, and youkai is demon. So it means Cute, child-like demon. In current use, Zimbabwe and Angola.

John Q is a Kawaii Chibi Youkai

Puddle Guts:
The name of the person that receives male ejaculate on their stomach. In current common use in southern Australia with Australian Cattle Dog breeders and their families.

"She’s me’ little puddle guts ‘cos when I was going at ‘er hard, I yank’d me’ Johnny out and blew on her guts"

Remember to get extra credit you must use all the words and/or phrases in routine conversations today.

Your Bill for the Day:

Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war
How to divide the conquest of thy sight;
Mine eye my heart thy picture's sight would bar,
My heart mine eye the freedom of that right.
My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie--
A closet never pierced with crystal eyes--
But the defendant doth that plea deny
And says in him thy fair appearance lies.
To 'cide this title is impanneled
A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart,
And by their verdict is determined
The clear eye's moiety and the dear heart's part:
As thus; mine eye's due is thy outward part,
And my heart's right thy inward love of heart.

Quote of the Day:
What luck for rulers that men do not think.
Adolf Hitler German Nazi dictator, orator, & politician (1889 - 1945)

I remain, like a Golden Retriever, Steadfast and Loyal, while occasionally chewing the crotch out of your panties:

JQP esq.

Public Service Announcement:

A poem in Photos:

Titled “Ode to Methamphetamines”

Would you could you in a bag?
meth in a bag

would you could you with two hags?

meth on a bag

meth and some hags

Would you make it in your lab?

meth in a lab

Would you could you, with your mouth?

meth in a mouth

Would you could you in the sand?

meth in the sand

Ed Note: man, I have seen and do see this kind of stuff everyday. Its like an epidemic in rual areas.

Yours forever and a day, i remain:


Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Pillows and dancing girls for me:

Thought for the Day:
Human beings, by changing the inner attitudes of their minds, can change the outer aspects of their lives.
William James, US Pragmatist philosopher & psychologist (1842 - 1910)

Last Night:
I did my civic duty and helped a fund raiser for here at the orphanage where I volunteer. Selling tickets to win 5 grand at 5 bucks a pop. I have the record 4 years and running on sales. This year however, I am far behind. So, for a few hours after work, I sold tickets at bars and strip clubs, while not selling as many has I hoped, I did enjoy myself, it is after all “all for the children”.

I returned home (sober, hey I was working) and made cod on the grill with summer salad and sweet corn relish. Yet again, I could not sleep, this is day three of sleeping 2 to 3 hours a night, so I got up and worked on a few projects.

Today I swim with the Big Fish:
Today, I have to attend an all day conference put on by the great power house of education Notre Dame, with the key note being delivered by no less a leader than Giuliani, I guess that Ken Lay couldn’t make it and Powell was booked.

I hate these trainings, but I have to be there “to fly the flag etc..” I know they will feed me some kind of over cooked chicken and a hand full of green beans, plus make me sit on hard plastic chairs for hour upon hour. It would be a good time to bring a Gameboy. The things I do for the service of my fellow man.

Your Drinks of the Week:

“The Left-Coast Julep” or “Chang's Pear”
1 Tbspn Sugar 3 Lime Sections 5 Leaves of Mint 1 oz. Sour Apple Pucker 1.5 oz. Bacardi Limon Rum 1 oz. Pineapple Juice Club Soda Ice Muddle (mash) the lime, sugar and mint leaves together. Add the Sour Apple Pucker, Limon Rum, & Pineapple Juice and shake with ice. Pour into a tall glass (highball or Collins) top off with the club soda.

The Back Ward Punch
1 jigger Cheap Rye Whiskey
1 jigger Spiced Rum
1/4 jigger Grenadine
Juice of 1/2 Lemon
Shake with ice
Pour into glass
Fill with Soda
Garnish with Fruit

The Tropic of Cancer (Two thumbs up from JQP)
1/6 Rye
1/6 Sugar Syrup
1/6 Ouzo
1/6 Light Rum
1/6 Pernod
2 dash each Angostura and Orange Bitters
Shake with ice
Garnish with an olive and a cherry


Your Recipes for the Week:

Martini Pork Chops
4 center cut boneless pork chops
4 jiggers of gin
2 jiggers of vermouth
1 each medium red, yellow, and green bell pepper, cored, seeded, and diced
1 medium yellow onion, sliced
1 tbsp. olive oil
Fresh ground black pepper

Place chops in a deep dish and rub with the olive oil. Place diced peppers and sliced onion in dish, heaping them on top of chops. Pour in gin and vermouth, and stir. Cover chops and refrigerate overnight, turning chops over and mixing liquid and veggies every 4-6 hours.

When you're ready to cook, oil your grill pan (or prepare your barbecue grill like normal). Reseason chops with salt and fresh ground pepper, and place in grill pan. Sear both sides and then cook each side for about five minutes. Place reserved peppers and onion mixture in pan and grill along with chops. Serve chops with grilled veggies on top.

Serves 4.

Roasted Potato Salad (you have to have some potatos)
2 lbs. potatoes
1 med. yellow onion, peeled and chopped
2 tbsp. flour
4 tbsp. olive oil
1 tbsp. dried parsley (or 1 tbsp. fresh)
1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg
Salt and Freshly Ground Black Pepper to taste
Grated rind and juice of 1 lemon
2 tbsp. light mayo
1 tbsp. dijon mustard

Peel and cut potatoes into quarters and parboil in salted water for three minutes, then drain. Mix the remaining ingredients, except for the lemon rind and juice, in a large bowl. Butter a baking dish and preheat oven to 450°. Toss potatoes with herbs and stuff and add to the baking dish. Bake in the oven for 20 minutes -- sprinkle grated lemon rind on top and return to oven for five minutes, or until potatoes are slightly browned and tender. Remove dish from oven and allow potatoes to cool. Cut potatoes into 1" chunks and toss in a bowl with 2 tbsp. light mayo and 1 tbsp. Dijon mustard. Cover and chill in fridge, garnish with chopped dried or fresh parsley.

Makes 6-8 servings.

Poem for the Week:

What would you fight for?

I am not sure I would always fight for my life.
Life might not be worth fighting for.

I am not sure I would always fight for my wife.
A wife isn't always worth fighting for.

Nor my children, nor my country, nor my fellow-men.
It all depends whether I found them worth fighting for.

The only thing men invariably fight for
Is their money. But I doubt if I'd fight for mine, anyhow
not to shed a lot of blood over it.

Yet one thing I do fight for, tooth and nail, all the time.
And that is my bit of inward peace, where I am at one
with myself.

And I must say, I am often worsted.

D.H. Lawrence

(That one made me stop and think last night)

Todays Bill:
"How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees? Thou know'st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft; And wit depends on dilatory time."
--From Othello (II, iii, 376-379)

Quote of the Day:
His intelligence seized on a subject, his genius embraced it, his eloquence illuminated it.

With gravel in my gut and a bitter tear in my eyes, I remain:

JQP esq.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Read Any Bad Books lately?

JQP's Summertime Reading List of Banned Books:

Hi friends, got some free time this summer? Why not read a few banned books? I trust you the reader to make you mind up about these titles, some of them suck and were written by nut-jobs, but hey that didnt keep W out of the Whitehouse did it? This list comes from:http://www.humaneventsonline.com/article.php?id=7591 (thx Indy!)

...and best of all it pisses off the Man!

1. The Communist Manifesto
Authors: Karl Marx and Freidrich Engels
Publication date: 1848
Score: 74
Summary: Marx and Engels, born in Germany in 1818 and 1820, respectively, were the intellectual godfathers of communism. Engels was the original limousine leftist: A wealthy textile heir, he financed Marx for much of his life. In 1848, the two co-authored The Communist Manifesto as a platform for a group they belonged to called the Communist League. The Manifesto envisions history as a class struggle between oppressed workers and oppressive owners, calling for a workers’ revolution so property, family and nation-states can be abolished and a proletarian Utopia established. The Evil Empire of the Soviet Union put the Manifesto into practice.

2. Mein Kampf
Author: Adolf Hitler
Publication date: 1925-26
Score: 41
Summary: Mein Kampf (My Struggle) was initially published in two parts in 1925 and 1926 after Hitler was imprisoned for leading Nazi Brown Shirts in the so-called “Beer Hall Putsch” that tried to overthrow the Bavarian government. Here Hitler explained his racist, anti-Semitic vision for Germany, laying out a Nazi program pointing directly to World War II and the Holocaust. He envisioned the mass murder of Jews, and a war against France to precede a war against Russia to carve out “lebensraum” (“living room”) for Germans in Eastern Europe. The book was originally ignored. But not after Hitler rose to power. According to the Simon Wiesenthal Center, there were 10 million copies in circulation by 1945.

3. Quotations from Chairman Mao
Author: Mao Zedong
Publication date: 1966
Score: 38
Summary: Mao, who died in 1976, was the leader of the Red Army in the fight for control of China against the anti-Communist forces of Chiang Kai-shek before, during and after World War II. Victorious, in 1949, he founded the People’s Republic of China, enslaving the world’s most populous nation in communism. In 1966, he published Quotations from Chairman Mao Zedong, otherwise known as The Little Red Book, as a tool in the “Cultural Revolution” he launched to push the Chinese Communist Party and Chinese society back in his ideological direction. Aided by compulsory distribution in China, billions were printed. Western leftists were enamored with its Marxist anti-Americanism. “It is the task of the people of the whole world to put an end to the aggression and oppression perpetrated by imperialism, and chiefly by U.S. imperialism,” wrote Mao.

4. The Kinsey Report
Author: Alfred KinseyPublication date: 1948
Score: 37
Summary: Alfred Kinsey was a zoologist at Indiana University who, in 1948, published a study called Sexual Behavior in the Human Male, commonly known as The Kinsey Report. Five years later, he published Sexual Behavior in the Human Female. The reports were designed to give a scientific gloss to the normalization of promiscuity and deviancy. “Kinsey’s initial report, released in 1948 . . . stunned the nation by saying that American men were so sexually wild that 95% of them could be accused of some kind of sexual offense under 1940s laws,” the Washington Times reported last year when a movie on Kinsey was released. “The report included reports of sexual activity by boys--even babies--and said that 37% of adult males had had at least one homosexual experience. . . . The 1953 book also included reports of sexual activity involving girls younger than age 4, and suggested that sex between adults and children could be beneficial.”

5. Democracy and Education
Author: John Dewey
Publication date: 1916
Score: 36
Summary: John Dewey, who lived from 1859 until 1952, was a “progressive” philosopher and leading advocate for secular humanism in American life, who taught at the University of Chicago and at Columbia. He signed the Humanist Manifesto and rejected traditional religion and moral absolutes. In Democracy and Education, in pompous and opaque prose, he disparaged schooling that focused on traditional character development and endowing children with hard knowledge, and encouraged the teaching of thinking “skills” instead. His views had great influence on the direction of American education--particularly in public schools--and helped nurture the Clinton generation.

6. Das Kapital
Author: Karl Marx
Publication date: 1867-1894
Score: 31
Summary: Marx died after publishing a first volume of this massive book, after which his benefactor Engels edited and published two additional volumes that Marx had drafted. Das Kapital forces the round peg of capitalism into the square hole of Marx’s materialistic theory of history, portraying capitalism as an ugly phase in the development of human society in which capitalists inevitably and amorally exploit labor by paying the cheapest possible wages to earn the greatest possible profits. Marx theorized that the inevitable eventual outcome would be global proletarian revolution. He could not have predicted 21st Century America: a free, affluent society based on capitalism and representative government that people the world over envy and seek to emulate.

7. The Feminine Mystique
Author: Betty Friedan
Publication date: 1963S
core: 30
Summary: In The Feminine Mystique, Betty Friedan, born in 1921, disparaged traditional stay-at-home motherhood as life in “a comfortable concentration camp”--a role that degraded women and denied them true fulfillment in life. She later became founding president of the National Organization for Women. Her original vocation, tellingly, was not stay-at-home motherhood but left-wing journalism. As David Horowitz wrote in a review for Salon.com of Betty Friedan and the Making of the Feminine Mystique by Daniel Horowitz (no relation to David): The author documents that “Friedan was from her college days, and until her mid-30s, a Stalinist Marxist, the political intimate of the leaders of America’s Cold War fifth column and for a time even the lover of a young Communist physicist working on atomic bomb projects in Berkeley’s radiation lab with J. Robert Oppenheimer.”

8. The Course of Positive Philosophy
Author: Auguste Comte
Publication date: 1830-1842
Score: 28
Summary: Comte, the product of a royalist Catholic family that survived the French Revolution, turned his back on his political and cultural heritage, announcing as a teenager, “I have naturally ceased to believe in God.” Later, in the six volumes of The Course of Positive Philosophy, he coined the term “sociology.” He did so while theorizing that the human mind had developed beyond “theology” (a belief that there is a God who governs the universe), through “metaphysics” (in this case defined as the French revolutionaries’ reliance on abstract assertions of “rights” without a God), to “positivism,” in which man alone, through scientific observation, could determine the way things ought to be.

9. Beyond Good and Evil
Author: Freidrich Nietzsche
Publication date: 1886
Score: 28
Summary: An oft-scribbled bit of college-campus graffiti says: “‘God is dead’--Nietzsche” followed by “‘Nietzsche is dead’--God.” Nietzsche’s profession that “God is dead” appeared in his 1882 book, The Gay Science, but under-girded the basic theme of Beyond Good and Evil, which was published four years later. Here Nietzsche argued that men are driven by an amoral “Will to Power,” and that superior men will sweep aside religiously inspired moral rules, which he deemed as artificial as any other moral rules, to craft whatever rules would help them dominate the world around them. “Life itself is essentially appropriation, injury, overpowering of the strange and weaker, suppression, severity, imposition of one’s own forms, incorporation and, at the least and mildest, exploitation,” he wrote. The Nazis loved Nietzsche.

10. General Theory of Employment, Interest and Money
Author: John Maynard Keynes
Publication date: 1936
Score: 23
Summary: Keynes was a member of the British elite--educated at Eton and Cambridge--who as a liberal Cambridge economics professor wrote General Theory of Employment, Interest and Money in the midst of the Great Depression. The book is a recipe for ever-expanding government. When the business cycle threatens a contraction of industry, and thus of jobs, he argued, the government should run up deficits, borrowing and spending money to spur economic activity. FDR adopted the idea as U.S. policy, and the U.S. government now has a $2.6-trillion annual budget and an $8-trillion dollar debt.

Mrs. JQP's Summertime Reading Picks:











(She says her list is a lot more fun)

I remain, steadfast and strong:

JQP esq.