Sad Sack Interlude

Hello my poppets. I was just tossing Whiskas Temptations out the back window to the feral cats below and I thought of you. I guess I'm a tad bit behind the rest of the class. It's not my fault that I keep getting distracted by this freaking video:



It's freaking hypnotic. How can I be expected to work when I could be watching this for seven hours straight??? Right?

Sad Sack’s 4th Mission: Solving the Health Crisis

Oooooooooowww. Oh, poor me. Woe and misery and woe, woe, woe. It seems, my phalanges-inclined veal cutlets (that’s you guys), that my mojo-organ is on the fritz. In other words, I have lost my mojo and I need an operation. You may think that a broken down mojometer (that’s the scientific term) isn’t a big deal, but you would be wrong. I need it! It is this engine that drives this awesome machine, the gears that crank the waterbed-like waves of my magnificent physique, the root of my super powers…basically, my Sarcasm Bone isn’t working (Bone/Organ = whatever). There’s just one teensy weensy problem: I don’t have any freaking health insurance.


The Mojometer - No, I haven't taken any anatomy classes

LEARN

The quoted articles say that California hospitals charge insurance companies loads more than services cost (53% more). I assume they’re doing this because the insurance companies will reject a big chunk of their claims and they’re hoping that it’ll all even out somehow (see how I give the hospitals the benefit of the doubt!). However, this is still a pretty douchy thing to do because the insurance buttholes will just use these figures to justify upping rates. Also, by 2014, everyone is supposed to have insurance and there may not be enough doctors to fit the demand. I was a big fan of the single-payer tax plan, but I don’t know what to do with the thing we ended up with. The government is welcome to give me healthcare, but I don’t feel particularly inclined to pay for it. I can only hope that the current plan is a stepping stone to a better plan in a few years time.

ACT

I guess, as with everything else, we’re on our own. There’s no money and no willingness to fund universal healthcare. We’ll have to do everything in our power to postpone the inevitable decline…and if cancer or some other unavoidable ailment hits us, we’ll have go into debt or go without (I never said I was a ray of sunshine, it looks like I’ll have to switch to my back up mojometer). My own physical fitness plan is to eat as much junk food as possible and hope that the chemicals preserve me for decades. I guess this plan won’t work for everyone, so I’m hoping that SuperMom and Corrupt Angel will accept the requests I have sent them to join forces. Ma (as I call her – she loves it) and Rupty (ditto) have solid plans to make sure schools provide healthy lunches and to build community gardens. (EDIT TO ADD: I’ve just received word from Monkey Woman – MoMo for short – that we’ve also teamed up in a powdered StinkyButt franchise, sounds delicious!) I oozed around my hood with a walking checklist and have determined that it’s “A disaster for walking!”. We need sidewalks, crosswalks, speed bumps, trash-removal and more police patrol. In order to fund these fixes, we’ll need to 1) get involved with city council (if my poor-neighborhood even qualifies as within city limits. While there, I’ll blast them with the Evil Eye and Tedium, so they vote for anything to make the meetings end), to try and ramp up funding support and 2) Send out feelers to see if there are any rich peeps or businesses that would like to adopt a street, and, finally, 3) Organize a neighborhood trash-removal event where we all go out pick up crap like convicts on the side of a freeway.

This will be our neighborhood trash-removal outfit

IMAGINE

Thanks to this week’s videos/readings, I imagine a world where advances in science, technology and New Media have rendered our physical selves obsolete. I only saw half of the movie Surrogates, but I think it’s going to be something like that; we strap on a headpiece and our more attractive robot selves go out and do awesome stuff. So, all this physical fitness stuff will be totally unnecessary. But, in the immediate future…I see the neighborhood coming together to clean up the streets. Once that’s done, we’ll plant a community garden in the vacant lot by my house; tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, peppers, corn, etc. will be available to all residents. Our fund-raising efforts will have been successful and sidewalks, crosswalks, speed bumps will beautify our streets and make it safe to walk here. This one neighborhood will inspire other neighborhoods to follow suit, and before you know it, we’ll have a Healthy Alliance of well-over 500 members, all taking action and making their communities safer and healthier. Rainbows and kittens for everyone (oh, good, back up mojometer kicked in)!

Sad Sack’s 3rd Mission: Safety and Personal Empowerment

Hello my delicate flowers. My young, wide eyed and shivering little baby birdlets. You who never hesitate to reach out shaking fingers and dial my ham-shaped (and flavored) Sack Phone with the teeniest, the tiniest, the most minute and seemingly insignificant of troubles. But, we’ll address that in a moment. For the time being, I would like to explain the delay in my posts. It’s pretty simple; I’m tired and I’m busy. What, did you think I just sat here and oozed into my couch all day? That’s only partly true. I do actually leave the house on occasion (I exit through the French doors, greasing the sides with butter so I can slide right out). It’s cold season and while I haven’t actually gotten sick, I’ve gotten sympathy sick from all the sneezing, dripping and coughing of the two-legged people around me. It’s exhausting. Ideally, some shady doctor would pump me full of helpful medicine (like Crack and Prozac), to set me straight. Instead, I must sit in front of my computer with a cloud in my head and only a small fraction of my usual sparkling wit and disarming cleverness. It’s not fair to me (nothing ever is) and it’s not fair to you…because you need me apparently.

Don't judge me!!!

And this brings me back to you. You. Oh, you. You tell me now that you’ve got no money (what a surprise, if I had a nickel for all the times you guys have opened with that, I’d have 15 cents, and that’s halfway to a pack of gum) for city services like policemen and fireman and park maintenance, blah, blah, blah, etc…and you need my help.

OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD…WHAT DID I SAY?!? WHAT DID I JUST FREAKING SAY IN THE POST RIGHT BELOW THIS, HUH??? I SAID IF YOU GUYS CAME TO ME AGAIN ANYTIME SOON I WOULD FREAKING LOSE IT!!! WELL YOU CAME AND THIS IS ME FREAKING LOSING IT! AAAAAAAHHHHH! GAAAAAHHHH! UNBELIEVABLE! WHAT CAN I DO? WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO? WHY ME??? WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME? YOU BASTARDS!!!

Okay, shhh, chillax Sacky Sacky. Shhh. I’ll just figure this thing out and then go bury my head in the sand for a while. Shhh. Okay. Let’s do this.

LEARN

According to the literature, Modesto must eliminate 45 police and firemen to make up for a budget shortfall. The remaining nonunion employees have to take a pay cut. This means that if your house gets burgled, or your car stolen, you’re screwed. Also, if your fence catches fire and the fire department comes and puts it out, you’ll get billed. This is totally a regression. In the old days, before the fire department became a city service, individuals had to pay for them to come. They paid up front and got a little plaque to put on their house so if I fire broke out, the department would put it out. Unfortunately, this didn’t help the neighbors who might not have paid, so every house around them would burn to the ground. Nowadays, we’re paying higher taxes AND being charged for these services, we’re getting taken at both ends. What does the fire department do if you can’t pay the bill? Wreck your credit? You just can’t win for losing.

ACT

I actually like the idea of forming a citizen bike patrol group. I, myself, cannot actually ride a bike (that no-leg thing again), but I can be pulled in a cart by a team of 30 or so fit, bike-riding cadets. From my seat, I’ll pelt suspicious types with the Evil Eye and Awkward Sauce until they harass some other block. We’ll get them all uniforms (not polyester) and whistles and send them out in groups of four or more. We’ll give them incentives like fancy certificates signed by the Chief of Police and the Mayor, prizes for the cadet of the month, and a big annual volunteers’ dinner (one of my other sub-powers that I haven’t yet mentioned, is bribery). We should also encourage people to start forming active Neighborhood Watches. I’m sure everyone probably has the fading watch sticker in their window, but now we should actually meet…and watch.

Good on Spaghetti, too.

I’m not sure how effective establishing a virtual MPD would be, since new hires would only be laid off due to budget cuts. We could perhaps, form a virtual tip-line and also use the format to reach out to youngsters and encourage them away from violence. School programs, art contests, and camps can also be set up to teach the kids about avoiding crime. I believe the children are the future…but we’ve got to teach the well…and, um, let them lead the way.

I don’t like cameras. I just know they’re going to catch me doing something really disgusting and I can’t handle that. It doesn’t even seem that they really work, they say in London, only one crime was solved for every 1,000 surveillance cameras (there were some other facts about helping to solve murders but I found that info confusing and contradictory to the rest of the story).

IMAGINE

I guess I imagine a safer town. A safer town with me, Sad Sack, as benevolent ruler and overlord…just kidding (kind of). The news will have nothing to report except who won the awesome garden contest, or the science fair, or whatever. I will return to my couch and my TV, my Awkward Sauce, without fear of a home-invasion robbery.

Sad Sack's Second Mission: Employment Empowerment

Hello, once again, be-limbed* mortals, ye who slavishly worship the Cult of Sack…not to be confused with cul-de-sac, that’s a totally different thing. Though they’re nice, you know, safe…good if you have kids. I don’t have kids. Not that I want one or anything, you know, a little carbon copy blobule rolling around with my eyes and clever wit. Someone to spend time with and talk to, that’d be…Yeah, it’s for the best; the world probably couldn’t handle that much Sack.

So, anyway, the SackPhone (it’s shaped like a ham) just started buzzing and I get this urgent message that there’s now a freaking employment crisis in Modesto. For freak’s sake, people, didn’t I just save your bony butts from an educational catastrophe last week? I mean, at some point we need to stand back and ask whether having me solve all your problems is actually helping you or hurting you. What would my fellow gelatinous flesh-sack, Dr. Phil, have to say about all this? It might be time for some tough love, folks (as opposed to rough love).

There's nothing dirty about this

Well, in the meantime, I’ll figure out this one problem for you, but you’d better not need my help again anytime soon…because I will seriously lose it. Ok, here we go:

LEARN

The string-pulling powers that be provided some links to Modesto employment fun facts. I’ve read them and have absorbed the pertinent details without feeling the need to endlessly reiterate them all right here. What I’ve discovered is that Modesto is an armpit (I can call it that because I’m from here, however, outsiders better not dis it or I’ll give them strong doses of both the Evil Eye and Stinkybutt). It has nearly twice the national unemployment rate and a buttload of crime. Our biggest claim to fame is George-freaking-Lucas, but he won’t touch this town with a 10-foot pole. We’ve got agriculture, but that doesn’t seem to employ anyone (less than 1,000) and retail and manufacturing. Whoop-de-doo.

ACT

Ugh. Well, I glanced at the helpful links of projects in progress but very little penetrated into my brain. It seems like the groups and projects that have been established were established a while back and we’re really not going to be able to squeeze anymore blood from those stones (is that a real metaphor? I don’t care). While, I like the idea of a High Speed Rail line covering the whole state, these things are always all talk and no action. I figure I’ll be enjoying that thing when I’m in my eighties…and that’s probably not an exaggeration. One thing we could do is prevent businesses like Hershey’s from taking their jobs to other countries. We could boycott them or give them a tax incentive. For my part, I'll give them the Evil Eye which is usually pretty effective. But ultimately, this won't do much. I just don’t think there are any easy answers. Our federal government could go into to Depression-era mode and start hiring people to build a bunch of crap…aren’t all the sidewalks around MJC stamped by the WPA? I hear they eat well on the chain-gang. Hmm, we could wait this thing out…recessions come and go. I could blanket us all in Tedium and we’ll just roll our eyes until it’s over. We could switch to a trade and barter system; I’ll give you three buttons and a wooden nickel in exchange for some goat cheese and a cracker. Or we could move somewhere nice until the money starts flowing again.

IMAGINE

I’m imagining myself in a cool, dark pub with a pint…or is that not what you had in mind? In a few years all will be back to normal. Your marriage might have broken up and your children might be in the system somewhere, but things are balancing out. You may even be able to move out of your parents’ basement. Give it time, it will happen –after all, what goes down, must come up.

Unrelated cat-sidekick Norman pic

*It’s a freaking word now. It means “to have limbs” i.e. arms and legs, unlike yours truly.

Sad Sack’s First Mission: Educational Empowerment

Hello, foolish mortals. Foolish, feeble, weak and angular mortals. This is Sad Sack reporting from mission control (i.e., my couch). Apparently there was some sort of “mission” we super types had to accomplish by yesterday which I did not do. Obviously. I didn’t do it because I am very busy and important and have many demands for my time…and, also, I have no arms. That always tends to drag out the amount of time it takes me to do stuff. Any stuff. Like, for example, just scratching my butt is a major undertaking that rarely ends in any kind of real satisfaction. Sigh. Sigh. SIGH.


Trying to scratch in a puddle of Awkward Sauce

Well, anyway, today I put some effort that-hey, you know what would be awesome and super helpful? Elves. Little, tiny, Keebler-style elves that could just hang around here and like, scratch me when I itch…and maybe wipe the sweat from my flanks on a hot day…that’d be so good, man, I need elves. Elves. ELVES. So, today I put some effort into solving the educational crisis and here’s what I came up with:

LEARN

I was, like, supposed to learn something about the educational something or something. So I made a phone call to my alter ego’s Aunt Jan. Aunt Jan teaches fifth grade at an elementary school in Riverside, California and that totally qualifies her to talk about whatever it is we’re supposed to be talking about. She laid out how the state and nationwide cuts to educational funding have affected her school (and probably every other school in California especially Modesto). Apparently, the government’s made it more difficult for schools to qualify for Title 1 funds. These funds are supposed to level the educational playing field for disadvantaged kids and pay for things like; extra staffing, reading specialists, educational assistants, PE teachers and music programs. Yeah, all that shiznit. In fact, Aunt Jan’s school has dropped the arts altogether. Teachers are told to focus mainly on test scores for language and math. They’re even discouraged from putting student artwork on the walls because it’s considered a waste of time. Class sizes for kindergarten through third grade have also been affected by funding problems. The average size went from 15 or 20 kids to 30 kids per class in a few years. They were able to eliminate many teachers. Unfortunately, the ones remaining have to deal with book shortages and scrounging for desks and chairs. Also, the increased class sizes mean no small group interaction. Aunt Jan admitted that because of these obstacles, some kids will probably fall through the cracks.

ACT

Hmm. Okay, my own self-described super powers are as follows: Evil Eye, Wall of Impenetrable Despair, Really Awkward, Stinkybutt and Tedium. I’m not exactly sure how to channel these towards fixing the educational ills of society. I suppose I could sprinkle some of my Really Awkward sauce (it comes in a sauce format) upon the legislators and make them stew in it until they increase funding and awesomeness ensues. If I got my wish and had Keebler elves at my disposal I could just have them contact the Lucky Charms leprechaun and he could give us a pot of gold. But none of this is realistic. Aunt Jan said what would really help are community volunteers. Senior citizens or other helpful types with loads of spare time who could come in, assist the teachers, and give the kids more one-on-one time (but not in a pervy way). I guess that would be a way to start…I don’t know if I’m actually supposed to do that or not or if this is just hypothetical. If I actually have to do something, let me know, and I’ll go buy a random kid a book…with, like, equations in it.

IMAGINE

Ummmmm…I thought I totally did that, just now with like the awkward sauce and the gold and the helpful seniors and stuff…Hmm. It does sound to me like it all comes down to money. Schools need more money and education shouldn’t be the first cut whenever there’s a budget crisis. Instead of my Awkward Sauce, perhaps communities should pull together and hose the lawmakers down with their own sauce. Put the pressure on them until they have to do our will or be ousted. The resources I need are; people who actually give a crap (and that’s really not my forte). If I could, I would get people interested and impassioned enough to rise up and fight for their children’s education…light a fire under their asses. That will lead to change which will lead to funding for schools which will lead to more teachers, more resources, smaller class sizes and happiness all around.


The fire I'll light under their asses

SAD SACK BEGINNINGS

In the beginning, Sad Sack seemed like your everyday, run of the mill, small person. She/It had had all of the tools for a normal existence:


Seen here out-pouting Macaulay Culkin

And then, one day at the beach, something horrible happened:


What?

The exact series of events is unknown, but billions of scientists and experts agree on the following variables: 1. Puberty may have been a factor, 2. Gypsy curse, and 3. Jellyfish sting. Oh yes, the world’s most brilliant minds have deduced that these three factors were the ingredients that led to perfect storm (I’m totally mixing metaphors here) that hatched Sad Sack unto the world on that fateful day so long ago. The essence of each ingredient became the magical fairy powder with which Sad Sack busts ass. For example:

Puberty – Extreme awkwardness and mood swings (including despair and tedium)
Gypsy Curse – Evil Eye and Stinkybutt
Jellyfish Sting – Boneless blob of undulating gel

With these powers at her disposal, Evil-doers don’t stand a chance. Much like a Cooler at a casino, Sad Sack’s mere proximity can suck the life and will to do wrong, hell, the will to do anything, right out of them. More often than not, criminals will give up on the spot and crouch in a corner contemplating ending it all. It’s like shooting fish in a barrel. Criminal fish with black eyemasks and handguns.
Hooray for Sad Sack.