Birthday Bash For Jacque

Are you going?

Or are you coming?

What’s the difference?

As long as there is a bash for Jacque’s 100th Birthday Party next March 2016?

Jacque who?

The Jacque who said …

Something about politics being a little round and a little flat?

Not quite …

Please if you quote

Try your best

Get it right

Hmmm … That song again

Jacque must know that song
… From younger years …
Better times … something like …
“I don’t want to start a revolution
I just want to Change the world … ”
Well … After all … he tried

And he tried

And tried

All those door handles

He must have

Tried to turn.
—————————————————————–
We interrupt to bring you …. The following …
This is an unpaid non-political advertisement.

Invest in good.

Get a good job
——————————————————————-

Advertisement

Art Garden Planning

Eureka
Hello hello

Garden of Artists

Well George … Almost time to be thinking about the Garden of Artists …
Maybe write a poem or a song … Paint a picture … a vision of Spring …

Yes, I realize it’s still bitterly cold around the shores of Chaleur Bay. But the thaw has to happen eventually.

What is it? What is the Spring Garden of Artists? Well since you seem interested …

February begins with a new Celtic season appropriate to thinking about gardens and planning for Spring and getting things ready.

No George … The Spring Garden of Artists is Not an English Country Garden … Not at all … More like a Wild Flower Garden.

The Garden of Artists is not about neat little plots or pc containers with well-defined labels lined up according to tongues or nationalities or politics. Neither is about gender nor religious beliefs.

The Garden of Artists It is about independent artists getting together and sharing art … Visual art … Music … Songs … Drama … Creative Writing … Dance …

No George, I have no idea what sort of flowers will sprout. That’s the thing about wildflowers. You may spread the seeds but you never know how they will take or what wonder-blooms might appear …


Check it out George
Chaleur Bay … Where else?
http://www.chaleurbay.me

Cookin’ Goose

Cookin’ Goose

Eureka
Hello hello

Disclaimer:
This website is an ongoing story in the making of a rock opera. The author and main character is a Canadian-Celtic Granny elder …..
Disclaimer continues … one day at a time … juggling ideas and trying to find those red shoes …

Today Granny thinks back to the last year of the last century, 1999 to be precise.

GRANNY: OK George here’s the story … Why I threw in the bit about the goose … Because that’s what everone thought at the time … Just a silly silly Silly old goose … Never took her seriously …
The going concensus was … That goose deserved to be cooked … Poking her nose in where it wasn’t wanted … writing terrible trash she called poetry … she really should have known better. Siily old Biddy.

Fifty is a lot of years waiting around for wisdom to settle in. Obviously not in her case. If it had … Well you know how it is … If only she had kept her lips buttoned. She would … Well, she might have done a wee bit better for herself.

The story? Well it goes like this … It was Spring of 1999. The old biddy was becoming somewhat desperate. Everywhere she went it was the same. No job. Not even the most menial. She tried everywhere. Of course no one would admit that it was her age preventing them from hiring her … That would look like discrimination.

So there she was in May of 1999, struggling to find work. The poor soul became so despondent about her economic situation that on some days she could barely hold back tears. There were days when she hid home alone trying to gather the courage to keep going. On days when she was brave enough to venture forth she tried to keep a positive attitude and a smile as door after door after door slammed in her face.

Not once did anyone admit that it was her age they held against her. They all claimed it was her attitude … That was what they whispered to one another after slamming every door she tried to open ever so gently.

She even tried consulting with the experts. Beyond advising her that her attitude was all wrong, none ever actually gave her any concrete help. Experts told her it wasn’t simply about getting a job. You had to show that you were developing a career, preferably in computers, networking with the right people and doing volunteer work for the most popular causes of the day.

It didn’t take her long to realize that what all these experts meant by “right attitude” was they expected her to go through the motions of pretending that she greatly appreciated their reams of expert opinion and advice. It only agitated them if she dared venture the “been there done that” response.

So finally in May 1999 she cooked her goose by writing a batch of … Hmmmm well at the time she was hardly in a state to offer anything resembling polished poetry … So what to call it … She called it Warts Warts and More. The shabby self-made book of eleven pages of writing and drawings was not very successful. Looking at it today … Well George … I think the old Biddy was in pretty bad shape. She dared to say such things … And what happened to her George?

So, her goose was cooked … And the happy pills they gave her … What about the Happy Pills? George, what was that? … That spurt of insane laughter … Did you hear it?
Cpyright 2015 MSO

The Blest Apostate

The Blest Apostate

Eureka

The Blest Apostate

She went to all the finer schools
Did you hear them say
Those priests and nuns
They taught her well
But look at her today
Apostate is what they say
Apostate what they call her
Who will no longer pray
Saviour please dear Saviour
Pray save us her witless wit
The Apostate though
She flicks her Bic
She’s had enough of it
Copyright 2014 MSO
</html

The Auld Bag

The Auld Bag

Eureka

The Auld Bag

You sit here and you tell us
You dare to sit and say
She will not keep still
You tell me that today
She rises up too early
When you want to sleep
She won’t take her happy pill
That gives her deepest sleep
She wants conversation
And to get up dancing too
Which all those other seniors
Would not dare to do
You strap her into bed
To keep her safe you say
But that wily little witch
You cannot make her stay
Hot P and vinegar
No matter
How hard you try
You canna keep her still.

Copyright 2014 MSO

Myside Bias

Been exploring a few ‘new to Granny’ ideas … Like ‘Confirmation bias’ … sometimes called ‘confirmatory bias’ or ‘myside bias’…
Why new? Many, many years ago Granny tried to get her wee brain around all that statistical stuff but she never could understand any of it so she just left it all up to greater minds than her own. Then, in this new modern … Errr … Sorry … OK … if you insist … Post-modern … Whatever that might mean …

Anyway here and now Granny sits trying to determine who knows what about Guaranteed Annual Income and why we don’t have it because to Granny it is the only sensible solution.

What does all this have to do with something called ‘Confirmation Bias’
Granny has only the very vaguest of ideas. Is she infected with this peculiar little bug, do you suppose? Is that why she is having such difficulty finding good solid proof that GAI is not a great idea?

Granny sighs as she tries her best to understand the finer points of the research.

Maybe the truth is right there, plain as that hairy mole on Granny’s face. Maybe she just needs a new pair of glasses.

Economics! Oh dearie me … Granny knows nothing about such arcane subjects … Ask Juliet … No no not that Juliet … The Juliet who … Oh … She died, did she? In 1978? At age 70? Well, I’m sure she still would have had a few good years ahead of her … Sigh … Guess they just don’t make Grannies like they used to …
Papers? Did she leave papers? Did she!

Health? on Granny knows absolutely nothing about Health either. All she can do is be amazed at all those wonder drugs … So many wonder drugs that a person needs a good plan to manage them, these days. Used to be … there were not so many diseases. Lots of traits that TLC pretty much took care of.

Wonder whether that Myside bias has anything to do with all those interesting but sometimes silly conversations parents have about whether the kid inherits a trait … Or a disease … You know … “She gets it from my side” or maybe “He gets it from your side” … And who really cares except the drug company that funds the … Oh … Did you not know! Research … Clinical trials … That sort of thing … Oh yes in Canada too … The “Made in USA” label? Does anyone really read those labels anymore? … Especially when you can get all those free drugs.

The environment! What could the environment possibly have to do with traits or disease? Your job? What you eat? Don’t be so silly.