Neanderpundit

Drop thirty three bucks at your local barber and go for the whole shooting match. I feel and look almost like a human being now. Certainly a lot less like my masthead photo.

Damn,it was nice. Sitting back in that bigass red leather chair. Resting my feet up on that padded flipover footrest. Having him come back four times with the hot towel, wrap it around your face, shave off trhe coarse hair with the grain, then against the grain, hot towel again, shave off the fine hair, do a complete shave with the grain, another hot towel, against the grain, trim sideburns, mustache, nose and ear hair, back of your neck, massage your face and neck, shoulders, dust you down with that big horsehair brush and talc.

I’m ready for about everything, now.

In America we have a manufactured protected class. A class of people who are immune to any criticism, and they have used the political correctness they have created themselves to prevent them from being criticised no matter how foul their intentions or stupid their premises.

Foul intentions, for example.

Gun control
Redistribution of wealth
Removal of religion except liberal-sponsored religion
control of schools
control of education
control of reproduction
control of the family

Stupid premeses

Socialism can work
Big government is good
Gun control can work
Global warming
Global cooling
Man created climate change

As much as I would hate for the situation to get to the point where it is in europe, I find it hard to imagine conservatives rising up to stop this menace, which is exactly the Nazi party of the 30’s. And most of the liberals I know have been brainwashed to believe that CONSERVATIVES are the fascists, having no knowledge of the actual meaning of the word.

How do we stop this cancer from taking over our free land?

UPDATE: Stop by Pascal’s place- he says many of the same kinds of things, though with longer, prettier words.

On a day not unlike today, I was a seventeen year old looking to get into trouble. I always seemed to find a way, too- and this was a day like no other for self imposed trouble.

I had just graduated from high school, and started work at the aforementioned lumberyard. I had only weeks before received my driver’s license. We used to sit and eat our lunches on the bunks of lumber by the railroiad tracks. “hey” I said, ‘Those suckers are travelling slow enough to climb on!” So that saturday, after work I did, wiht one of my lumberyard co-workers.

We climbed up into a hopper destined to get coal from a Sesser, Illinois strip mine. We stood on the couplers between the cars and watched the cornfields and wheatfields and towns go by.

Towns?

We were a long way from home. Further than I’d ever driven before, even. We had gone past lowell and schneider, and we had crossed the kankakee river, and it was beginning to get cold. And the train had picked up some speed.

We kept waiting for a soft spot to jump off, but these were all WW2 era tracks- they were laid in the age of steam, and fully ten yards opn either side of the tracks was still clinker and fly ash, compacted hard and painful. Finally the train slowed for a curve and we hopped off, my companion messing up his shoulder, me twisting an ankle. We walked to what we remembered was the nearest road, some miles back, and started hitching.

It started to rain. We were wearing jeans and tshirts. I started to shiver and bit my tongue several times trying to keep my teeth from clacking.

Finally, after we had walked maybe four or five miles, we spotted a truck copming at us, and it stopped and picked us up. The driver heard our story and took us most of the way back in silence. I got in my car, and raced the engine until the heater was red hot against my shins, put my sodden tshirt on the back of the seat and wrapped myself in my spare coveralls until I warmed up. It was dark by now, the very first time I had ever driven my car by myself in the dark. I drove the two or three miles home, still shivering from time to time.

I never told my parents.

I still love trains- but I’ll never hop one again.