Darwinian Risks in the Labor Pool

She's 57, has a degree in bidness, got laid off four years ago, can't find a job.

Would you pay for this woman's health care? At least she admits she has spent her entire life in pursuit of security, having worked her way to the top of the class of the 'new unemployables.' She believes her atrophied computer skills cost her a recent job opportunity. Benjamin Franklin, stand up and take a bow.

Of all the remedial steps she has taken, her most astute was to cash out her $180-thousand IRA while taking an $80-thousand tax penalty. She lives in paradise with a killer view of Puget Sound while property taxes eat her lunch. Oh, did she mention anything about her weight-loss plan? What do you think will be on the mind of the 30-something Human Resource manager as she cajoles that carcass through the door?

Should the taxpayers assume the burden of people who used up all their get-out-of-jail-free cards in the previous century? When the going gets tough, the weak really do get screwed. How could God allow this to happen? Did God have anything to do with it? Free will's a bitch.

Still Struggling with the 20th Century

Dear Miss Vito,

So, I awoke in the hospital with very little memory of recent events.

I had just invested close to $10,000 in my truck. Of course, the dog thinks it's his truck. But the insurance I collected was Blue Book on a 1994 vehicle.

They kept me in the hospital a couple of days and when I got 'home' I was still in a daze. A recent acquaintance came to visit and I still don't remember having met him.

Then it hit me all at once that everything in my life was turned upside down. My truck is gone, my wife and daughters have invaded my refuge in the mountains, I am in debt up to my eyeballs again with an enormous, conspicuous house that is empty most of the time. It's embarassing. I love my wife but she looks like a stranger. She's on me to make a home out of this house. All I want is to move back into the hills with the dog.

Have I gone crazy with that bump on the head? I don't think my wife is out to get me. I was in the Air Force for twenty years. While I was flying Vietnam out of Guam she was living in Hawaii. Did she get spoiled and I not know about it?

Signed: Clifford in Wyoming

Miss Vito replies:

Clifford, how long did you say you were unconscious?

Let me get this straight. You're telling me you had this gorgeous refuge in the mountains that was all yours until your wife moved in and persuaded you to build a house with room for your daughters and their families, but the place is so remote they almost never show up. Then you got a crack on the head and everything seems different.

I'm reminded of the Right Stuff when Gus Grissom's wife realizes she's not going to the White House to chit-chat with Jacqueline Kennedy. She's convinced the Air Force owes her for all the time she suffered as a serviceman's wife.

Clifford, you may love this woman, but you have been railroaded into something you didn't want, led to believe it would be good for everybody. We should probably give your wife the benefit of the doubt and say her optimism overcame whatever common sense she might possess, rather than suggest she did this to get even.

I see this all the time. The twentieth-century woman is still struggling with the nineteenth century and is just not ready for the twenty-first. Call it hung-up, tangled-up or what-have-you, but most of us live in the past. I'm not saying men have enlightenment all to themselves because there's precious little of that going around, but the women still believe that they would be better off if they were more like the men. Equal pay for equal work. Except men don't carry babies and give birth, so what's to be equal?

Not that I'm letting the men off the hook, because we all want what somebody else has. That's only natural. To really believe it's important and to devote energy and time to finding happiness in one's possessions is just foolish.

And women are complete fools in this regard. Worse, they cannot be trusted. They will go out and buy a pair of white slacks that don't fit because 'everyone' is wearing them. If she asks you if they make her look fat, you better be quick with a good lie. Women are not rational. Their fluctuating chemical balance drives their entire reality. Ask a woman a question and the only thing you might learn is how she feels at the moment. I can assure you she will feel different tomorrow and different again the day after. If you refuse to give in to her whims she will cry and accuse you of being heartless and cruel. Don't fall for it!

But it looks like you fell for it and it took a near death experience to wake you up. I hope your recovery goes well. It may take some time to completely regain your equilibrium. I can understand your distress.

You have a couple of choices. You can endure this meaningless reality that has been foisted upon you. This will ensure your premature death. Women are good at convincing themselves that their men will get over it. But take a look at some of these guys and they look like they're dead already. Worse, they look like they have been beaten up. Guess what?

The only real choice is what I would call divorce, guerilla-style. Without saying anything to your wife, convert all your assets to cash and put the money somewhere no one can find it. Then you quitclaim your interest in the house (and the mortgage!) to your wife. Take the dog and back into the mountains, call the bank and say 'Kemo Sabe, I bought a boat, I'm headed out to sea!'

I just love Lyle Lovett, he is so clever with words.

The Woman You Love May Be Killing You

The following letter comes from Cliff in Wyoming.

Dear Miss Vito:

I loved your show and can understand why you put up with Vinny.

I was in a traffic accident a couple of weeks ago. I can't even remember what my wife and I were talking about at the time, but it had to be some kind of distraction. I was making a U-turn when my pickup got T-boned on the driver side by some little gal in a Land Cruiser. We both got citations from the Highway Patrol but I can't even remember why we were where we were, how we got there or where we were going.

When the paramedics arrived I was unconscious, sitting in a pool of blood from the wound in my forehead. They thought I was dead, but the docs in the ER revived me some 45 minutes later.

More to come...

Holder in Need of Some Restraint

The attorney general is out of control. Ain't got no sympathy wi'dat. Nor, do I have much time for this. Miss Vito calls.

Anyway, I watched Roger Clemens testify. I don't like the guy. All those guys are overpaid. So what?

But those guys in Congress are lying all the time. I don't like them, either, but they claim to be acting in my best interest. Guess what? There's this warm, wet stuff in my ears and it ain't rain, no matter what those assholes say. Mr. Holder, you prosecutin' the wrong guy. You a liar, too.

Amen. There it is.

Unstuck in Time, Feeling Lost?

Fret not, Fluid Reality offers the comfort of a tireless ear. The incomparable, the savvy, the resourceful Miss Mona Lisa Vito graciously offers counsel, wit and wisdom to her followers exclusively at this URL. Imagine your own good fortune.

It was hoped that our Brotherly Leader would be more available to share his perspective on all things personal and worldly, but he's so busy it's hard to get him on the phone. Even then, all he wants to do is practice his English and test the staff on their knowledge of the Quiran and Sharia law. Plus, it has been difficult finding Farsi interpreters with a sense of humor. He's weary of the sectarian strife in Iraq and the ongoing shenanigans of the Saudis, not to mention the Syrians. He offers his apologies but only's interested in translate Chris Rock's material into Farsi. That guy, what a sense of humor! He's promised to be more available when he's done with Bigger and Blacker. The Colonel has asked for help with the following quotations:

"Who's judging American Idol? Paula Abdul? Paula Abdul judging a singing contest is like Christopher Reeve judging a dance contest!

and

"Yeah, I love being famous. It's almost like being white, y'know?"



Anyway, the inimitable Miss Vito brings to the table her vast knowledge of small-block Chevy's and Szechuan Chinese food. Talk about prerequisites. And she offers the perspective of generations of Puerto Rican Americans living in the Big Apple. Her beauty and experience will offer whatever salve sensitive souls require. So, please, keep those cards and letters coming.

Wait! This just in! Hot off the presses of the Wall Street Journal, Mr. Fouad Ajami, professor at Hopkins writes:

"Big as Reagan's mandate was, in two elections, the man was never bigger than his country. There was never narcissism or a bloated sense of personal destiny in him. He gloried in the country, and drew sustenance from its heroic deeds and its capacity for recovery. No political class rode with him to power anxious to lay its hands on the nation's treasure, eager to supplant the forces of the market with its own economic preferences."

There it is.

To Mosque, or Not to Mosque?

Silly raghead! Candy flavored breakfast cereal is for Americans!

Today's theme is educated folly. Michael Bloomberg's a smart guy, right? Even O'Bozo could lay claim to some kind of intelligence. Certainly has the pedigree. Did he check the box? The one guranteeing a free ride for bloodsucking minority scumbags?

In the grocery store yesterday, shopping for grillables. That's griyablahs, in case you think I use propane. Anyway, while looking at poultry it was impossible to ignore the comment coming from behind me. It was so inane, I did not turn to assess the speaker. Had to be a tourist. This is what she said, are you ready?

"We don't eat chicken. You know, the salmonella."

I'm just gonna' leave it at that. Oh, okay, it's the kind of mindless crap that falls from the mouths of politicians.

So, about that mosque at Ground Zero...

Remember Pink Floyd's Comfortably Numb? It seems like a lot of Americans are Comfortably Dumb. I'm sure Mayor Bloomberg would like us to think his heart is in the right place. Forgive and forget, right? Let's extend the olive branch to those camel jockeys (Yes, Virginia, they can vote) to illustrate the fine qualities New Yorkers espouse.

Let's do a bell-shaped curve on the Muslim population. As the curve begins to rise, the degree of literacy begins to drop. Of the one billion Mulims in the world, ninety percent are unable to read or write. There are some Muslim scholars, and there are educated Muslims in America and other places, including Jerusalem. Fair enough.

But in the world, there are more illiterate sand niggers than there are Americans. Think about it.

America! The rest of the world is focused on survival! Only in the Land of the Free is there such abundance that we focus on Angelina and Brad. The have-nots have not the cultivated world view to work hard, educate their children and create a better community. They will gladly kill us, take what we have, trash it and call the process righteous Holy War!

Forgive and forget? I know some Jews, no offense, who do not forgive. They atone. I'm not saying these people represent Judaism. I know Christians who do not forgive. What I am saying is that Jews do not forget! Neither do Arabs, Iraqis, Afghanis, Persians, Koreans, Russians and Chinese. Whom have I left out?

I would argue forgiveness is about peace of mind. No need to trouble yourself over the uninsured illegal alien who just trashed the rear quarter of your new ride at Wal Mart. Shoot the son of a bitch, be done with it. God will forgive you if you repent. Relax.

Americans think the rest of world to be like themselves. Sorry, it ain't so. Palestinians (lots of Arabs, too) treat each other like shit and don't have a clue about being nice. Nice is what you be when you want your lies to be believed.

So, these nice, educated Muslim-Americans want to build a place where they can worship. Remember, the men and women worship separately, which is probably not a bad idea. But they call their place of worship a mosque which usually has what's called a minaret whence some fanatic begins a shrill prayer at sunrise for all to hear. These days they use the same amplifiers as Metallica. Fine. NIMBY.

How about a concert carillon and the Star-Spangled Banner? You listening, Roseanne? Those ragheads would probably let you grab your crotch and scream the call to prayer like a banshee any day you want. Not on your life. You must have a dick, not just be one.

So these are nice Muslims in the Big Apple. Shoot, you probably couldn't hear the muezzin for the taxicabs and jackhammers. Who cares?

But we are talking about a modern American holy of holies, where innocent people died because some third-world avenger thought a bomb in the garage was not enough. Remember the people who jumped to their deaths rather than eat fire. Remember, these dumbshit, illiterate, raghead motherfuckers don't give a damn about OUR children. That's all there is to it.

These same zombie terrorists will see a mosque at the World Trade Center as a monument to jihad, a symbol of their victory over the infidel. They don't have enough command of any language to have a sense of higher purpose, only what some rabble-rousing mullah pours into their ears. These people are the dregs of society, the bane of religious practice. It ain't fuckin' supernatural and they ain't fuckin' Sufis.

In my quiet moments, I would like nothing better than to shoot the lot of them. Build that mosque we might as well raise a Palestinian flag over the sacred site and have Drew Carey wave money and plane tickets on morning Al-Jazeera singing 'Come on down?' Brotherly Leader would be proud.

Get the picture? Start building that sacrilege in New York City and I best be hustlin' Timothy McVeigh out of stir to do what he does best. This ain't about picante sauce.

Enough with the mosque. Build it in Bedford where Brotherly Leader wanted to put up his tent. That would be a true monument to the ignorant, two-faced bigotry those lily-livered, lace-pants, white-ass New York, better-than-thou, godless motherfuckers practice behind closed doors, Mr. Mayor.

Remember Beirut. You can bet those Hamas shitbirds do! These guys in the photo remind me of Sauron's elite troops in Return of the King. I'm sure they sell the headbands and scarves from their website. Looks like the Paypal Salute!

Dog Days Heat Up

Gonna hafta research Dog Days. But it's been brutally hot here in Star Valley. The air conditioning is noisy and is killing whatever joy remains in my life. The only thing I have to look forward to is Muck Boots, the boot of choice among the hearty (hardy?). Check 'em out, new colors this year.

Something about the way the Aspen tree leaves glitter in the sunlight when there's a breeze. Never seen grass like this. First frost before the end of the month. 'Sposed to be ready for winter by Labor Day. Wanna be close to your ride; might have to dig to get there.

I feel truly alive. I have landline+DSL which is hog heaven compared to the RV lifestyle and make-believe wi-fi. Gotta come up with names for the gophers. Neighbor says he's been driving them my way.  They get a reprieve until next year.

Dreamt the old bar, the 'O', had been gutted and become lifeless, though full of expectant drunks. Should've known the 911 would be missing and the 'K' bike would be in parts, the Sled nowhere to be found. No ride. Christopher said what did I expect, he was only 16, but Eddie's mom knew where everything was. That was after Patty called and left a message. Musta' been the cookies after dinner.

I guess I have graduated from being a bandwidth hog, the latest affront to corporate profits in the liberal press. ATT in the Tetons is so slow there's not much to hog. Talk about the world wide wait. No 3G. I guess O'Bozo's still alive, criticising his critics. Oh, bite me! Now the Mexicans want BP to pay them 'cause they got laid off. One would think that, after all that trouble, that well in the Gulf of Mexico would be bringing home the black gold. Go figure.

Some tourists in line for the Darwin awards got toasted hiking in a thunderstorm in the Tetons. They explained that the weatherman said the storm would not arrive until 14:30 while they planned to be off the mountain by noon. One guy was off the mountain about 10:42. Burnt lips. First place goes to Mutha' Nātcha!