Blogosphereons,1.
As the president of this fine Law Center, I like to look back at the year just past and recall some of my accomplishments. Well even with all that we did, poverty is keeping ahead of our best efforts to crush it. My twenty dollar contribution to the homeless fellow unexpectedly and regretfully reduced the homeless population by one when he smoked two dime bags of meth and had a brain seizure. Malinda Teague's eldest son, Wendell, is a EMT and rides third seat with the crew in Finger, Tn on Fridays and said he'd seen it before and that poor wretch was probably dead before he hit the ground.
I devised 10 ways to reduce the federal deficit and am always thinking of ways to improve on the ways. We could reduce federal spending by 1/5 by granting our public servants off every Wednesday without pay. Generally speaking, nothing great ever happens on Wednesday in the halls of government or on the other four days for that matter. We could reduce our outlays for government if all public servants were paid on merit and for results. Payroll expenditures would necessarily drop to pre-WWI levels as most civil servants are pathetic paper weights and position holders for the next lucky winner of "who gonna get a government job?"
In local developments, Larry Simmons called to say that we had a sick cow. Seems she is all snotty around the nose, foaming at the mouth, and can not muster the energy to get up off the ground. Merle said he'd seen it before and was pneumonia. I gave Larry my bottle of penicillin and he give the cow a couple of shots and brung it some water and some feed and we will see what tomorrow brings. I think we will be burying another of Mr.D.B. Bell's cows tomorrow.
Damned if old Bell don't have the worst luck with his cows. That is the second one this year for old Bell. I tried to tell him not to buy them old cows sight unseen, but Bell is a banker and banker's know everything, except perhaps when not to buy cows with no teeth left in their heads. In his favor, he did get two fine calves out of those edentulus bovines. God rest their souls, a cow is a noble creature and its intelligence is universally underrated. Only the dog is smarter, because we do not eat dogs. But a Chinese dog, that is a totally different matter.
As I look back over the past year, I find I have pissed away another one without accomplishing anything of any worth or value. Even the IRS sent most of my money back. I hope to be more productive in 2011 as it is the next to last year in the Mayan calender.
This year I plan to end poverty, end wealth, end inequality, end dreams, end profits, end global warming, end racism, end homophobia, end religion, end bigotry, end criminality, end social injustice, end talk radio, end freedom of speech, end baring arms, end hunger, end teenage pregnancy, end war, end diseases, and end profits from businesses both great and small.
I will vote democrat.
Jackson Delano Maybolt, President Urban Poverty Law Center
"You know you are a Democrat if you find National Public Radio's news segments from Central America----------facinating!" Mother Maybolt, 1928-2008
1. A term to denote those who hang out in the blogosphere, generally another term for loser with a computer who is tired of watching porno 24/7. jm
Friday, December 31, 2010
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Urban Poverty Law Center Wishes You A Merry Christmas
Friends and Democrats,
I will get the niceties out of the way before I get started, Merry Christmas! I got everything I wanted for Christmas this year, world peace, global warming subsiding on our efforts to control emissions from cattle and politicians, and an end to world hunger when the last of the starving Somali's passed on to the other side. Really, the United Nations reported that world hunger is defeated the old fashion way. They finally died. Sad but true.
National Public Radio had live reportage standing by as the last two, known world hunger poster children, drew their last air.
Juan Williams had been scheduled to be the senior reporter, but his flap with Fox News got him canned and Nina Totumpole
got tapped for the assignment. I think Nina's choice was a coup de tat, as she brought a warmness to the report whereas Juan, with his harsh anti-Islam, anti-Starving African/Fox News biases, would have fallen flat. Juan's heart and soul would not have been in that report. Achmed and Schlamile, dead of world hunger! Next.
One last thing about Nina Totumpole, she is a great reporter with a gentle heart, a kind spirit, and a fine historian when facts are not essential. 1.
As I compose, globing warming, the hoax, concocted in some Tennesseans warped mind, who was erroneously awarded the Nobel Peas Prize, whose last name rhymes with whore, and first name rhymes with fert, past pluperfect for "fart", When I surprised Betty Wahlbanger with a baked potato, she was embarrassed by her fert, is melting away at Europe and the Americas.
It is so cold in the British Isles that one can hear many loud cracks over there as Brits with hideously crooked teeth have them contracted and spontaneously straightened when they draw in that first frosty morning breath of fresh air. The Royal Society of Odontics and Maxillo-Facial Surgery is planning a protest letter to the UN.
With the expiration date set firmly on the 111th congress, and the Lame Duck America Congress at its end, I think we can all sit back and with a sigh of relief, pray to God Almighty, the 112th Congress only stings half as much as its predecessor. Asking Congress to watch your money is like asking a dog to watch your food. 2. I had almost lost my faith in Hell until I observed the shenanigans of this Lame Duck Congress. 3.
I believe that we can all agree they gave Americans what they truly want, a good screwing. But, I haven't felt this bad about a screwing since prom night,1968, when Jess Nunamaker and I got all liquored up and experimented in the back of his pick up truck, said he lost his balance, but he nearly ripped me a new one, if you know what I mean. I wasn't expecting that, and gave it up that year for Lent and never went back there again. I am not gay, not that there is anything wrong with sodomy or beastiality for that matter, Love is where you find it in my honest opinion. I just did not feel the love in the back of Jess's truck that night. I am a committed heterosexual, but my injuries, lost arm and leg, along with a large and smelly sacral decubitus require me to pay for sex, and if ever I find a really desperate crank whore with false teeth, I do. Too much information, I know. Change subjects.
Members of the reading public, you are instructed to disregard the written remarks the noble amongst you find repugnant and the rest of you, whose sensibilities were not shocked, are perverted, your mothers know who you are, don't fool yourself . Did that help anybody? Save it for your therapist.
Merry Christmas everybody!
Jackson Delano Maybolt, President Urban Poverty Law Center
1. Mark Twain plagiary, 2. ditto. 3. ditto
"All women are whores, except of course for your mother. But her mother was a whore!" Mother Maybolt, the unwhore, 1925-2008
I will get the niceties out of the way before I get started, Merry Christmas! I got everything I wanted for Christmas this year, world peace, global warming subsiding on our efforts to control emissions from cattle and politicians, and an end to world hunger when the last of the starving Somali's passed on to the other side. Really, the United Nations reported that world hunger is defeated the old fashion way. They finally died. Sad but true.
National Public Radio had live reportage standing by as the last two, known world hunger poster children, drew their last air.
Juan Williams had been scheduled to be the senior reporter, but his flap with Fox News got him canned and Nina Totumpole
got tapped for the assignment. I think Nina's choice was a coup de tat, as she brought a warmness to the report whereas Juan, with his harsh anti-Islam, anti-Starving African/Fox News biases, would have fallen flat. Juan's heart and soul would not have been in that report. Achmed and Schlamile, dead of world hunger! Next.
One last thing about Nina Totumpole, she is a great reporter with a gentle heart, a kind spirit, and a fine historian when facts are not essential. 1.
As I compose, globing warming, the hoax, concocted in some Tennesseans warped mind, who was erroneously awarded the Nobel Peas Prize, whose last name rhymes with whore, and first name rhymes with fert, past pluperfect for "fart", When I surprised Betty Wahlbanger with a baked potato, she was embarrassed by her fert, is melting away at Europe and the Americas.
It is so cold in the British Isles that one can hear many loud cracks over there as Brits with hideously crooked teeth have them contracted and spontaneously straightened when they draw in that first frosty morning breath of fresh air. The Royal Society of Odontics and Maxillo-Facial Surgery is planning a protest letter to the UN.
With the expiration date set firmly on the 111th congress, and the Lame Duck America Congress at its end, I think we can all sit back and with a sigh of relief, pray to God Almighty, the 112th Congress only stings half as much as its predecessor. Asking Congress to watch your money is like asking a dog to watch your food. 2. I had almost lost my faith in Hell until I observed the shenanigans of this Lame Duck Congress. 3.
I believe that we can all agree they gave Americans what they truly want, a good screwing. But, I haven't felt this bad about a screwing since prom night,1968, when Jess Nunamaker and I got all liquored up and experimented in the back of his pick up truck, said he lost his balance, but he nearly ripped me a new one, if you know what I mean. I wasn't expecting that, and gave it up that year for Lent and never went back there again. I am not gay, not that there is anything wrong with sodomy or beastiality for that matter, Love is where you find it in my honest opinion. I just did not feel the love in the back of Jess's truck that night. I am a committed heterosexual, but my injuries, lost arm and leg, along with a large and smelly sacral decubitus require me to pay for sex, and if ever I find a really desperate crank whore with false teeth, I do. Too much information, I know. Change subjects.
Members of the reading public, you are instructed to disregard the written remarks the noble amongst you find repugnant and the rest of you, whose sensibilities were not shocked, are perverted, your mothers know who you are, don't fool yourself . Did that help anybody? Save it for your therapist.
Merry Christmas everybody!
Jackson Delano Maybolt, President Urban Poverty Law Center
1. Mark Twain plagiary, 2. ditto. 3. ditto
"All women are whores, except of course for your mother. But her mother was a whore!" Mother Maybolt, the unwhore, 1925-2008
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Urban Poverty Law Center Visited By Mark Twain
Friends,
I have not been more excited about anything in Cedar Grove, TN than the news I received through my personal assistant, Susan Blunderdoss. As many will recall she was our first hire here at the UPLC. She has the son who plays the drums in the West Carroll High Marching Band who has to march freestyle to minimize his chance of being struck by a heavenly body.
Anyway, Susan's second cousin, who hails from Mississippi, got into a little bit of trouble back home with her church, and rather than fight it out locally, her momma, Clotile, felt it would be better for little Yolanda to move up here and have the preacher's child out of state as well as out of wedlock. Yolanda is a spirited young girl with black, black hair, and pale white skin with a sprinkling of freckles around the nose and the bluest of blue eyes. She has a nice figure for a girl of thirteen and in a certain light could pass for sixteen.
She was only twelve when she got into trouble with the Preacher, there in Humpityduditycannipotitty County, Mississippi. Funny how all the Mississippi counties have native American names. Humpityduditycannipotitty is the Kashkashkia Indian tribal word for salt. Back in the day humpityduditycannipotitty was a very valuable comodity. So important that Mississippi named an entire county for it!
Well, Susan has brought Yolanda out to the house where I met and have been speaking to her and she relates to me that she is a clairvoyant. And regularly communes with spirits, both famous and infamous. I thought I would humor this troubled teen with what I thought was a harmless question.
"Could she get me an interview with my favorite American writer, Ernest Hemingway?"
Well, before I knew it her bright blue eyes had rolled 180 degrees back into that pale faced skull, and she intoned in a somewhat other worldly voice, that Hemingway was not reachable through the gates of Hell, suicide, you know, but Mark Twain had an opening and was agreeable to an interview. I decided to play along with her on this one, curious to see what would follow.
I tentatively asked my interviewee if I could get him/her anything before we start. His/her bright blue eyes snapped back into focus, gazed about the library in which the ordeal was unfolding and rejoined, a Cuban Cigar if you have one. I had some swishersweets left over when mother was alive and offered him/her one of these and he/she accepted. I lit it up and he/she took a long drag off it and blew it out and then refocused his/her gaze on me.
Mr. Twain, I uttered. I was not expecting you today, and have not prepared anything in particular. Can I get you anything to drink? Sherry would be just fine. I asked Susan to bring some of momma's finest in a glass for our guest and I asked Mr. Twain to tell me a story of interest to him. He related the following short to me that day:
When I was just a lad of 10 or 11, Tommy Blankenship and I would spend summers exploring the area around Hannibal. Mother always sent a negro named Roger to watch after us and keep us safe. Roger was a great big fellow who was a few years our senior and was strong enough to pick both Tom and me up with one arm, and though he looked like a man he was childlike. On a dare, he once swam across the Mississippi river round trip and didn't even get winded. He was strong but not bright.
His/her bright blue eyes flashed and flickered for a moment, and then he/she continued:
Roger was one of the kindest fellows I ever met. He wore a hat that was my grandfather's which was thrown out 10 years ago. Roger's mother, Cici, had retrieved it from our family's dump after my mother's father died. He never went anywhere without that hat. It was fine old hat in its day. Pap used to wear it to church and to campaign stops. And though it made Pap look distinguished, when Roger wore it, he looked comical. A young lad with a top hat! What next, honest men in politics! But I digress.
It was a hot, hot August day and Tommy and I had not played a trick on Roger for over a month. He, Roger, was terribly feared of haints and we could always count on his fear to play a good one on him. One of our swimming holes had a bank with a hole in it where a small boy could swim down into and come up on the other side of the bank and if you was quiet enough you could slip out of the water and it would look sure as not that you'd drown! The hole was made by muskrats and had washed big enough to allow passage of a small boy. I was playing and splashing with Tommy in that swimming hole as Roger looked on with a vacant stare. I winked to Tommy and went under and made it to and through the muskrat hole and slipped up and peered over the bank at the commotion when Tommy yells to Roger that Sam is done drown.
Roger lept up and hit the water so hard it nearly splashed half of it over the bank, he swam every inch of the swimming hole, coming up only long enough to grab a quick breath and down again. After what seemed a few minutes, I swam back through the hole and floated to the surface near Tommy and Roger had me hoisted on his shoulder and on the bank in seconds. He laid me out and began to wail over me. I done lets my little marster drown! Miss Clemens will never forgives me. I has failed. Lordy Jesus give my lil marster Sam back. The tears were welling up in his eyes and on cue, I opened my eyes and Tommy said, Look! He is alive!
Roger fell on my chest hugging and kissing me to a point that I was embarrassed by all the attention. I asked who they were and who was I and pretended not to know anything. Roger wasn't worried until Tommy told him I had "amnesia" a loss of memory attributed to folks that went across the river Styx and drank from its waters of forgetfulness and somehow mistakenly returned to the ranks of the living. Tommy explained that I was dead and didn't know it.
This got Roger's attention. He got off me and stepped back and studied the situation for a moment or two. Then he said, suppose we could take him home and ack like nothing happened? Tommy said, they would have to teach me everything first before I could go back home, if I lived. Roger's eyes got big as saucers.
Sam, yo name is Samuel Clemens! Yo mama is Mistress Clemens, and yo father is Marsta Clemens.
I am Mistress Clemens, my mama is Samuel Clemens, I said.
No, no, no! said Roger.
You is Samuel Clemens. Got it?
Yes, You is Samuel Clemens, I said.
Naw, I ain't you. You is you. You is Samuel Clemens! Samuel Clemens is you! I am Roger, remember, Roger.
I am Roger. I said.
About this time Yolanda's eyes flicker back in that white skull of hers, and she lets out a mighty groan. The baby, my water has broken, the baby is coming!
I fell out of my hoverround trying to get out of that room. I did not know nothing about water breaking. Yolanda started to laugh.
Shoot, Mr. Maybolt, didn't my aunt warn you that I am only in this thing to entertain myself? Everything's made up, it is all a young girls fancy. I am not even pregnant. I made that story up to get away from home for a few months too.
I have to admit that she was good. I will never forget Yolanda from Humpityduditycannipotitty County, Mississippi!
Jackson Maybolt, President, Urban Poverty Law Center
"The difference between a tick and a congressman is eventually a tick will get its fill and drop off." Mother Maybolt 1922-2008
I have not been more excited about anything in Cedar Grove, TN than the news I received through my personal assistant, Susan Blunderdoss. As many will recall she was our first hire here at the UPLC. She has the son who plays the drums in the West Carroll High Marching Band who has to march freestyle to minimize his chance of being struck by a heavenly body.
Anyway, Susan's second cousin, who hails from Mississippi, got into a little bit of trouble back home with her church, and rather than fight it out locally, her momma, Clotile, felt it would be better for little Yolanda to move up here and have the preacher's child out of state as well as out of wedlock. Yolanda is a spirited young girl with black, black hair, and pale white skin with a sprinkling of freckles around the nose and the bluest of blue eyes. She has a nice figure for a girl of thirteen and in a certain light could pass for sixteen.
She was only twelve when she got into trouble with the Preacher, there in Humpityduditycannipotitty County, Mississippi. Funny how all the Mississippi counties have native American names. Humpityduditycannipotitty is the Kashkashkia Indian tribal word for salt. Back in the day humpityduditycannipotitty was a very valuable comodity. So important that Mississippi named an entire county for it!
Well, Susan has brought Yolanda out to the house where I met and have been speaking to her and she relates to me that she is a clairvoyant. And regularly communes with spirits, both famous and infamous. I thought I would humor this troubled teen with what I thought was a harmless question.
"Could she get me an interview with my favorite American writer, Ernest Hemingway?"
Well, before I knew it her bright blue eyes had rolled 180 degrees back into that pale faced skull, and she intoned in a somewhat other worldly voice, that Hemingway was not reachable through the gates of Hell, suicide, you know, but Mark Twain had an opening and was agreeable to an interview. I decided to play along with her on this one, curious to see what would follow.
I tentatively asked my interviewee if I could get him/her anything before we start. His/her bright blue eyes snapped back into focus, gazed about the library in which the ordeal was unfolding and rejoined, a Cuban Cigar if you have one. I had some swishersweets left over when mother was alive and offered him/her one of these and he/she accepted. I lit it up and he/she took a long drag off it and blew it out and then refocused his/her gaze on me.
Mr. Twain, I uttered. I was not expecting you today, and have not prepared anything in particular. Can I get you anything to drink? Sherry would be just fine. I asked Susan to bring some of momma's finest in a glass for our guest and I asked Mr. Twain to tell me a story of interest to him. He related the following short to me that day:
When I was just a lad of 10 or 11, Tommy Blankenship and I would spend summers exploring the area around Hannibal. Mother always sent a negro named Roger to watch after us and keep us safe. Roger was a great big fellow who was a few years our senior and was strong enough to pick both Tom and me up with one arm, and though he looked like a man he was childlike. On a dare, he once swam across the Mississippi river round trip and didn't even get winded. He was strong but not bright.
His/her bright blue eyes flashed and flickered for a moment, and then he/she continued:
Roger was one of the kindest fellows I ever met. He wore a hat that was my grandfather's which was thrown out 10 years ago. Roger's mother, Cici, had retrieved it from our family's dump after my mother's father died. He never went anywhere without that hat. It was fine old hat in its day. Pap used to wear it to church and to campaign stops. And though it made Pap look distinguished, when Roger wore it, he looked comical. A young lad with a top hat! What next, honest men in politics! But I digress.
It was a hot, hot August day and Tommy and I had not played a trick on Roger for over a month. He, Roger, was terribly feared of haints and we could always count on his fear to play a good one on him. One of our swimming holes had a bank with a hole in it where a small boy could swim down into and come up on the other side of the bank and if you was quiet enough you could slip out of the water and it would look sure as not that you'd drown! The hole was made by muskrats and had washed big enough to allow passage of a small boy. I was playing and splashing with Tommy in that swimming hole as Roger looked on with a vacant stare. I winked to Tommy and went under and made it to and through the muskrat hole and slipped up and peered over the bank at the commotion when Tommy yells to Roger that Sam is done drown.
Roger lept up and hit the water so hard it nearly splashed half of it over the bank, he swam every inch of the swimming hole, coming up only long enough to grab a quick breath and down again. After what seemed a few minutes, I swam back through the hole and floated to the surface near Tommy and Roger had me hoisted on his shoulder and on the bank in seconds. He laid me out and began to wail over me. I done lets my little marster drown! Miss Clemens will never forgives me. I has failed. Lordy Jesus give my lil marster Sam back. The tears were welling up in his eyes and on cue, I opened my eyes and Tommy said, Look! He is alive!
Roger fell on my chest hugging and kissing me to a point that I was embarrassed by all the attention. I asked who they were and who was I and pretended not to know anything. Roger wasn't worried until Tommy told him I had "amnesia" a loss of memory attributed to folks that went across the river Styx and drank from its waters of forgetfulness and somehow mistakenly returned to the ranks of the living. Tommy explained that I was dead and didn't know it.
This got Roger's attention. He got off me and stepped back and studied the situation for a moment or two. Then he said, suppose we could take him home and ack like nothing happened? Tommy said, they would have to teach me everything first before I could go back home, if I lived. Roger's eyes got big as saucers.
Sam, yo name is Samuel Clemens! Yo mama is Mistress Clemens, and yo father is Marsta Clemens.
I am Mistress Clemens, my mama is Samuel Clemens, I said.
No, no, no! said Roger.
You is Samuel Clemens. Got it?
Yes, You is Samuel Clemens, I said.
Naw, I ain't you. You is you. You is Samuel Clemens! Samuel Clemens is you! I am Roger, remember, Roger.
I am Roger. I said.
About this time Yolanda's eyes flicker back in that white skull of hers, and she lets out a mighty groan. The baby, my water has broken, the baby is coming!
I fell out of my hoverround trying to get out of that room. I did not know nothing about water breaking. Yolanda started to laugh.
Shoot, Mr. Maybolt, didn't my aunt warn you that I am only in this thing to entertain myself? Everything's made up, it is all a young girls fancy. I am not even pregnant. I made that story up to get away from home for a few months too.
I have to admit that she was good. I will never forget Yolanda from Humpityduditycannipotitty County, Mississippi!
Jackson Maybolt, President, Urban Poverty Law Center
"The difference between a tick and a congressman is eventually a tick will get its fill and drop off." Mother Maybolt 1922-2008
Saturday, December 4, 2010
UPLC's Jack Maybolt and W
Friends,
I have always admired President Geo. W. Bush. I find his faith in God to be refreshing and believable. As a political watch dog, I did not always agree with his decisions, but I know he only did what he thought was best for the country, first and the world, second.
My home health nurse floored me day before yesterday when she said her boyfriend, Tiny McNulty, who drives truck, and is also a W fan learned of the former president's visit to speak at a local Church of Christ faith-based University and he won the peanut gallery tickets first and then a pair of the golden tickets which included dinner and pictures with the former president. Anyway, since there were only two of them, she asked me if I would be interested in having the lesser pair of tickets, and I jumped at the opportunity!
I washed up and put on a fresh adult diaper, the fancy ones with baking soda to mask any odors, and put on my best polyester leisure suit called my brother, Lester T. Maybolt, Esq. and we struck out for Herderson, Tn, which is about 50 miles south on highway 45. If you keep going South on hwy 45 you get to the Gulf of Mexico in about 450 miles. We got there about 15 min before the program started and we waited through the obligatory speeches and choir renditions, and then WOW! There he is, W Bush!
He has the greatest manner with the people and he is one of us. He is a Methodist and a believer in the force of God in everyman's life. His proudest accomplishment?
Fighting the spread of Aids and malaria in Africa. His underlying premise? That all life is sacred and God is with us if we allow him into our lives. His underlying philosophy that shaped his foreign policy? All men are endowed with freedom by their creator. Hopes for a democratic Middle East which will help establish peace in that region.
He spoke of the presidency being about making decisions. Said he made his decisions from his solid American foundation of beliefs of what was right. He had many moments of self-deprecating humor. He spoke from a page of notes fluidly and with great ease.
He should not ever be misunderestimated!
I believe the American public was cheated out of who and what this man really was by the filters placed on him by the godless press and media. He is truly a jewel and one of America's national treasures! I am going to buy his book and read it. If his book is anything like his persona, it will truly delight and entertain!
Jack Maybolt President, Urban Poverty Law Center
"If all men are created in His image, W must look an awful lot like God."
Mother Maybolt, 1923-2008
I have always admired President Geo. W. Bush. I find his faith in God to be refreshing and believable. As a political watch dog, I did not always agree with his decisions, but I know he only did what he thought was best for the country, first and the world, second.
My home health nurse floored me day before yesterday when she said her boyfriend, Tiny McNulty, who drives truck, and is also a W fan learned of the former president's visit to speak at a local Church of Christ faith-based University and he won the peanut gallery tickets first and then a pair of the golden tickets which included dinner and pictures with the former president. Anyway, since there were only two of them, she asked me if I would be interested in having the lesser pair of tickets, and I jumped at the opportunity!
I washed up and put on a fresh adult diaper, the fancy ones with baking soda to mask any odors, and put on my best polyester leisure suit called my brother, Lester T. Maybolt, Esq. and we struck out for Herderson, Tn, which is about 50 miles south on highway 45. If you keep going South on hwy 45 you get to the Gulf of Mexico in about 450 miles. We got there about 15 min before the program started and we waited through the obligatory speeches and choir renditions, and then WOW! There he is, W Bush!
He has the greatest manner with the people and he is one of us. He is a Methodist and a believer in the force of God in everyman's life. His proudest accomplishment?
Fighting the spread of Aids and malaria in Africa. His underlying premise? That all life is sacred and God is with us if we allow him into our lives. His underlying philosophy that shaped his foreign policy? All men are endowed with freedom by their creator. Hopes for a democratic Middle East which will help establish peace in that region.
He spoke of the presidency being about making decisions. Said he made his decisions from his solid American foundation of beliefs of what was right. He had many moments of self-deprecating humor. He spoke from a page of notes fluidly and with great ease.
He should not ever be misunderestimated!
I believe the American public was cheated out of who and what this man really was by the filters placed on him by the godless press and media. He is truly a jewel and one of America's national treasures! I am going to buy his book and read it. If his book is anything like his persona, it will truly delight and entertain!
Jack Maybolt President, Urban Poverty Law Center
"If all men are created in His image, W must look an awful lot like God."
Mother Maybolt, 1923-2008
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Urban Poverty Law Center's Proposals For Government
Below is the letter to the editor of the Wall Street Journal that I had to write since our great country is on a slide to financial ruination. I felt I had to comment as those in Washington who are at the controls are rocketing our futures into a vacuum of sustainable poverty for all. What kind of Poverty Law Center would this be if we did not comment when we see the crash coming?
An Open Letter From The Urban Poverty Law Center To Erstwhile Bowles and Alvin Simpson:
Co-Chairmen of The Presidents Deficit Reduction and Reunification Commission.
As the President of The Urban Poverty Law Center since 1998 I have balanced my budget each year and believe you me, it has not always been easy. One year, a particularly harsh one, we had to fore go the caviar and lobster and settle for bologna and government cheese at the annual Christmas party! Luckily, Larry Simmons spiked the
punch bowl and no one complained.
To briefly summarize the commissions 12 month work, they want to eliminate home mortgage deductions, raise gasoline taxes by 15 cents a gallon, raise the retirement age, cut retirement benefits at the same time,tweak the broken tax code so it favors the government over the tax payer even more, and cut the federal work force by 10% by the year 2525! Good grief! Is that all you got? My cows could have come up with a better plan given half the time and money you bloviates blew through this past year.
The Urban Poverty Law Center plan to reduce the deficit includes:
1: Eliminate all federal pensions and apply the broken social security and medicare policies to all federal workers. This is retroactive. Sorry Jimmy Carter and Bushes, and Clinton, and Jerry Ford if you are still alive.
2: Cut all federal pay by the percentage of this years projected deficit immediately-
this would save billions a year.
3. Make all medicare payments to doctors tax free. This would take the sting off accepting and caring for medicare patients.
4. Cut the corporate income tax in half. No federal taxes on corporations that mass produce products that have federal taxes on them, ie cigarettes, and gasoline. Corporations with a heart would pass the savings on to the little guy, the consumer.
5. Eliminate campaign finance regulations for limits on contributions, but have 100% compliance on reporting who is giving and how much. Then tax 50% of these contributions so those who are buying favors pay for the cost of the government.
6. Eliminate the restriction on foreign contributors to campaigns, we welcome their money to the Treasury as well.
7. Tax all former politicians at 90% for income from speeches, board membership, books, etc that exceeds 2 million dollars a year, and no charitable foundations shenanigans to avoid this debt they owe the American People! We made them, they owe us!
8. Immediate 20 percent reduction in the income taxes by allowing each taxpayer to work 1 year in every five years tax free. Start it in a lottery with the last 2 digits of your ss number corresponding when you can take your tax free year.
9. Add a 5% national sales tax to all goods and services which would capture the underground markets and this could phase out when the budgets are balanced.
10. Do what I recommend or you are an ass-monkey.
Jackson Delano Maybolt President Urban Poverty Law Center
"We're from the government and we are here to help ourselves to your stuff."
Mother Maybolt, 1927-2008
An Open Letter From The Urban Poverty Law Center To Erstwhile Bowles and Alvin Simpson:
Co-Chairmen of The Presidents Deficit Reduction and Reunification Commission.
As the President of The Urban Poverty Law Center since 1998 I have balanced my budget each year and believe you me, it has not always been easy. One year, a particularly harsh one, we had to fore go the caviar and lobster and settle for bologna and government cheese at the annual Christmas party! Luckily, Larry Simmons spiked the
punch bowl and no one complained.
To briefly summarize the commissions 12 month work, they want to eliminate home mortgage deductions, raise gasoline taxes by 15 cents a gallon, raise the retirement age, cut retirement benefits at the same time,tweak the broken tax code so it favors the government over the tax payer even more, and cut the federal work force by 10% by the year 2525! Good grief! Is that all you got? My cows could have come up with a better plan given half the time and money you bloviates blew through this past year.
The Urban Poverty Law Center plan to reduce the deficit includes:
1: Eliminate all federal pensions and apply the broken social security and medicare policies to all federal workers. This is retroactive. Sorry Jimmy Carter and Bushes, and Clinton, and Jerry Ford if you are still alive.
2: Cut all federal pay by the percentage of this years projected deficit immediately-
this would save billions a year.
3. Make all medicare payments to doctors tax free. This would take the sting off accepting and caring for medicare patients.
4. Cut the corporate income tax in half. No federal taxes on corporations that mass produce products that have federal taxes on them, ie cigarettes, and gasoline. Corporations with a heart would pass the savings on to the little guy, the consumer.
5. Eliminate campaign finance regulations for limits on contributions, but have 100% compliance on reporting who is giving and how much. Then tax 50% of these contributions so those who are buying favors pay for the cost of the government.
6. Eliminate the restriction on foreign contributors to campaigns, we welcome their money to the Treasury as well.
7. Tax all former politicians at 90% for income from speeches, board membership, books, etc that exceeds 2 million dollars a year, and no charitable foundations shenanigans to avoid this debt they owe the American People! We made them, they owe us!
8. Immediate 20 percent reduction in the income taxes by allowing each taxpayer to work 1 year in every five years tax free. Start it in a lottery with the last 2 digits of your ss number corresponding when you can take your tax free year.
9. Add a 5% national sales tax to all goods and services which would capture the underground markets and this could phase out when the budgets are balanced.
10. Do what I recommend or you are an ass-monkey.
Jackson Delano Maybolt President Urban Poverty Law Center
"We're from the government and we are here to help ourselves to your stuff."
Mother Maybolt, 1927-2008
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Urban Poverty Law Center Blog Will Not Monetize
I do not want to brag, but Google has approached my blog and asked me to accept advertisements.
They tell me this is the most widely read blog emanating from Cedar Grove, Tn. I am flattered that
both of you, sign in from time to time to see what Jack is thinking, and you know who you are.
I am not swayed by the big money Google has offered, but the extra 13 cents a month could come in
handy. But by the time I paid taxes on that I would probably waste it on three jolly ranchers at the local Walmart
conveniently located on Highway 70A in Huntingdon, Tn, where you are always welcome with convenient 24 hr shopping and an in-house pharmacy. "If Walmart doesn't Have It, You Really Didn't Need It!"
I am shopping for wood burning stoves for my home since I feel that propane and electricity will be short when George Soros and gang pull the plug on America. I found that Sears, located in Jackson, Tn, has a large selection of wood burners and pellet stoves and is open Mon-Friday 8am to 9pm and Sat 9am to 10pm, and Sunday noon to 8pm. Check out their specials in the women's undergarments section, I know I do each time I shop there for Craftsman tools, the only tools still made in America. Sears, where America Shops!
Folks, I would be lying if I did not tell you I have been buying gold from Blanchard and Company since 1994. The trained sales people are ready to sell you as much as you are willing to buy. Heck when gold fell to $254 and ounce one kind Blanchard salesman offered to buy my gold back from me so I would not lose all my money when it fell to $70 an ounce, true story. I kept the gold. I only wish I had bought more when it was low.
You might be wondering where I buy toners for my copier machine? I always shop at Office Max, where the people are always
friendly and the store is handicap accessible by law, Located in Jackson, Tn on Carriage House Drive and Highland. These
professionals can meet and exceed your business supply needs. Office Max, where business gets down to business.
Speaking of handicaps, I got my scooter for free from The Scooter Store. The fine people at The Scooter Store pre-qualified me for a free scooter. They can be contacted at thescooterstore.com.
When I need a gift or a unique household item I reliably can find it at my local Target Store. It is located on the 45 by-pass in Jackson, TN. Target, always aiming to please you, its valuable customer.
When I don't feel like cooking, I will visit one of West Tennessee's local McDonalds. I can get a value meal and know that my
money goes back into the local community to support good causes like the Ronald McDonald House. McDonalds, if you will eat it, we will cook it. McDonalds, I am eating it!
When I shop for a tractor I want green for my green, John Deere has been making tractors since tractors have been made.
Nothing runs like a Deere!
Finally, and I am a little embarrassed by this, but if I am suffering from erection deficit disorder I use Cialis from Pfizer.
Pfizer, we put the wood in the woody. We put the dog back into your puppy. Cilias, your not 16, but your dick won't know that! Pfizer, let us help you straighten out Mr. Wiggles. Cialis, we can help you drain the swamp! Cialis, just when your wife had forgotten how much she hated doing that, oh yeah!
As I said, the google people can take their tax avoidance schemes somewhere else. I will not play ball with anything but a Wilson which was proudly made in Humboldt Tn until the factory was out sourced to Mexico sending 300 jobs out of country.
Wilson, for all your outsourced produced sporting goods.
Jackson D. Maybolt
Urban Poverty Law Center
"Be careful what you wish for. I always preface each wish with a wish for a million dollars. Bingo!" Mother Maybolt 1926-2008
They tell me this is the most widely read blog emanating from Cedar Grove, Tn. I am flattered that
both of you, sign in from time to time to see what Jack is thinking, and you know who you are.
I am not swayed by the big money Google has offered, but the extra 13 cents a month could come in
handy. But by the time I paid taxes on that I would probably waste it on three jolly ranchers at the local Walmart
conveniently located on Highway 70A in Huntingdon, Tn, where you are always welcome with convenient 24 hr shopping and an in-house pharmacy. "If Walmart doesn't Have It, You Really Didn't Need It!"
I am shopping for wood burning stoves for my home since I feel that propane and electricity will be short when George Soros and gang pull the plug on America. I found that Sears, located in Jackson, Tn, has a large selection of wood burners and pellet stoves and is open Mon-Friday 8am to 9pm and Sat 9am to 10pm, and Sunday noon to 8pm. Check out their specials in the women's undergarments section, I know I do each time I shop there for Craftsman tools, the only tools still made in America. Sears, where America Shops!
Folks, I would be lying if I did not tell you I have been buying gold from Blanchard and Company since 1994. The trained sales people are ready to sell you as much as you are willing to buy. Heck when gold fell to $254 and ounce one kind Blanchard salesman offered to buy my gold back from me so I would not lose all my money when it fell to $70 an ounce, true story. I kept the gold. I only wish I had bought more when it was low.
You might be wondering where I buy toners for my copier machine? I always shop at Office Max, where the people are always
friendly and the store is handicap accessible by law, Located in Jackson, Tn on Carriage House Drive and Highland. These
professionals can meet and exceed your business supply needs. Office Max, where business gets down to business.
Speaking of handicaps, I got my scooter for free from The Scooter Store. The fine people at The Scooter Store pre-qualified me for a free scooter. They can be contacted at thescooterstore.com.
When I need a gift or a unique household item I reliably can find it at my local Target Store. It is located on the 45 by-pass in Jackson, TN. Target, always aiming to please you, its valuable customer.
When I don't feel like cooking, I will visit one of West Tennessee's local McDonalds. I can get a value meal and know that my
money goes back into the local community to support good causes like the Ronald McDonald House. McDonalds, if you will eat it, we will cook it. McDonalds, I am eating it!
When I shop for a tractor I want green for my green, John Deere has been making tractors since tractors have been made.
Nothing runs like a Deere!
Finally, and I am a little embarrassed by this, but if I am suffering from erection deficit disorder I use Cialis from Pfizer.
Pfizer, we put the wood in the woody. We put the dog back into your puppy. Cilias, your not 16, but your dick won't know that! Pfizer, let us help you straighten out Mr. Wiggles. Cialis, we can help you drain the swamp! Cialis, just when your wife had forgotten how much she hated doing that, oh yeah!
As I said, the google people can take their tax avoidance schemes somewhere else. I will not play ball with anything but a Wilson which was proudly made in Humboldt Tn until the factory was out sourced to Mexico sending 300 jobs out of country.
Wilson, for all your outsourced produced sporting goods.
Jackson D. Maybolt
Urban Poverty Law Center
"Be careful what you wish for. I always preface each wish with a wish for a million dollars. Bingo!" Mother Maybolt 1926-2008
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Urban Poverty Law Center Political Commentary
I know I risk alienating 50% of Americans who vote, but those Americans who would be alienated by this missive probably do not read, anyway not this blog. President Obama, dancing the nights away at the music festival of lights in India with 3,000 of his closest friends on a $200 million dollar a day taxpayer funded extravaganza, fiddle's as our American way of life burns.
Oil poised to break $90 a barrel today, gold courting $1500 an ounce, cotton futures breaking a buck-fifty, soybeans over twelve-fifty. Inflation is coming and it is here.
Savers will be crippled and debtors will be buried. Hold onto those houses prices will rise, values will remain depressed.
People on fixed income will starve. No cat or dog will be safe. If you have a job, do everything to keep it. If you do not have a job, find one, any job, even at a fast food restaurant which may help feed the family in these coming difficult times.
What do the bankers who control the world do when their property and high positions are threatened by a collapse of the economy? Well a look back at history will reveal the only logical and politically correct action is WORLD WAR III!
At risk now are the plans of the new world order creeps and goons who have positions and wealth far above the imaginations of your average Cedar Grove bacon and cornbread fed citizen. Once the economy fails and the public gets hungry, problems get worse.
Turn the lights off and watch out. Lawlessness will be rampant. We will be invaded by
renegades from our Southern borders because it is worse there than it is here and they will be rampaging about collecting what ever treasure is left in our decaying society.
People will have to arm themselves to go to Walmart if there is anything on the shelves,
food will be the new money, and cigarettes will be prized possessions. If you do not have your ammunition supplies already, you are too late.
It is time to circle the wagons. The government will be dissolved. Local people will have to set up cooperatives and barter for the goods and services they need. The people who have planned and have foods stockpiled will be found and punished when they are noted to not be losing weight as fast as those who had no plans. Death will be a welcome release for many. Fresh water will be at a premium. If you have a well, protect it. Be ready to pull it up one bucket at a time. Big agriculture will grind to a halt as all fertilizers and seeds and fuel will be shut off. Millions will die.
With these bleak predictions, what should we do?
I don't know. I am just a cripple hick from Cedar Grove, TN. But I have chickens, cows, guns and ammo, and need to put wood stoves in my house for heating and cooking.
I am also about 60 lbs over weight and this could be good for an extra three weeks to a month if I can find a clean water source and avoid being killed as a fat hoarder by the hoarder's posse.
On the bright side, depression will fall to the will to survive, people who have to work all day to find enough food to eat are seldom depressed. They are too busy.
Kids will no longer be useless blobs of protoplasm with attitudes and will be assets as they can be sent out to gather nuts and berries and taught to chop firewood and tote the water from the well. Children who refuse to work will be cooked and eaten.
Mindless nights in front of the TV would be replaced with chats around the fire and story telling would make a come back. The Minnonites will be king in our area. They are ready for lights out.
Jack Maybolt, President
Urban Poverty Law Center
"Jack, the more I read of your blog, the crazier you sound." Mother Maybolt 1922-2008
Oil poised to break $90 a barrel today, gold courting $1500 an ounce, cotton futures breaking a buck-fifty, soybeans over twelve-fifty. Inflation is coming and it is here.
Savers will be crippled and debtors will be buried. Hold onto those houses prices will rise, values will remain depressed.
People on fixed income will starve. No cat or dog will be safe. If you have a job, do everything to keep it. If you do not have a job, find one, any job, even at a fast food restaurant which may help feed the family in these coming difficult times.
What do the bankers who control the world do when their property and high positions are threatened by a collapse of the economy? Well a look back at history will reveal the only logical and politically correct action is WORLD WAR III!
At risk now are the plans of the new world order creeps and goons who have positions and wealth far above the imaginations of your average Cedar Grove bacon and cornbread fed citizen. Once the economy fails and the public gets hungry, problems get worse.
Turn the lights off and watch out. Lawlessness will be rampant. We will be invaded by
renegades from our Southern borders because it is worse there than it is here and they will be rampaging about collecting what ever treasure is left in our decaying society.
People will have to arm themselves to go to Walmart if there is anything on the shelves,
food will be the new money, and cigarettes will be prized possessions. If you do not have your ammunition supplies already, you are too late.
It is time to circle the wagons. The government will be dissolved. Local people will have to set up cooperatives and barter for the goods and services they need. The people who have planned and have foods stockpiled will be found and punished when they are noted to not be losing weight as fast as those who had no plans. Death will be a welcome release for many. Fresh water will be at a premium. If you have a well, protect it. Be ready to pull it up one bucket at a time. Big agriculture will grind to a halt as all fertilizers and seeds and fuel will be shut off. Millions will die.
With these bleak predictions, what should we do?
I don't know. I am just a cripple hick from Cedar Grove, TN. But I have chickens, cows, guns and ammo, and need to put wood stoves in my house for heating and cooking.
I am also about 60 lbs over weight and this could be good for an extra three weeks to a month if I can find a clean water source and avoid being killed as a fat hoarder by the hoarder's posse.
On the bright side, depression will fall to the will to survive, people who have to work all day to find enough food to eat are seldom depressed. They are too busy.
Kids will no longer be useless blobs of protoplasm with attitudes and will be assets as they can be sent out to gather nuts and berries and taught to chop firewood and tote the water from the well. Children who refuse to work will be cooked and eaten.
Mindless nights in front of the TV would be replaced with chats around the fire and story telling would make a come back. The Minnonites will be king in our area. They are ready for lights out.
Jack Maybolt, President
Urban Poverty Law Center
"Jack, the more I read of your blog, the crazier you sound." Mother Maybolt 1922-2008
Monday, November 8, 2010
Urban Poverty Law Center November And Remembering
Letters to My Mother Maybolt, RIP
Today is a sad date for me. It ranks up there with the day I was eat up by the John Deere Manure Spreader, no it far and away surpasses that day and I would gladly give up my only remaining leg to have my mother back! Mother passed two years ago to the date in the Cedar Grove Bingo Parlor fire. Mother was the only victim of the fire because her hoverround high centered on a box of bingo cards that had just been delivered out of Corinth Mississippi and according to the Cedar Grove Fire Marshall, Robert F. Flamretardeaux, a Frenchman who moved up to Cedar Grove after Katrina wiped him out, was a clear violation of the fire codes, where it blocked the handicap exit.
I remember when I got the call from Fire Marhsall Retardo, that ill-fated night, I was in mother's bedroom straightening out her drawers, well it is too painful to remember but I cannot forget. As is usual with folks who move in to the area from out of state, their accents have to be practiced on your ear to be able to understand what they are saying. Anyway, Fire Marshall Flamretardeaux, phoned me and said:
"Missour, Maybo, yam afrid dat ur mutter is dad."
I moved the receiver to my good ear and asked him to repeat that please. My mutter is dad? My father has been dead for 25 years.
"Ur mutter, Madameselle Maybo, es dad!"
"No, she is not here she is at the bingo parlor, it is Wednesday night and she always is at bingo," I replied.
"Oui-oui Missur Maybo, zee es dad at da bingo parlar, der wus a fire!"
Then it struck me like that feeling you get when you first hear about your mother's death, like everything inside you lets go, whatever the force is that holds you together just lets go. All the string goes out of everything inside of you. As I hung up the phone that evening taking in what Fire Marshal Retardo had just told me, I knew my life would never be the same. I raced to my mother's handicap accessible bathroom and transferred to her handicapped accessible toilet and I sobbed uncontrollably, flapping my arm and my good leg in the air from time to time, and my bowels wept too.
This time of self pity and despair passed that night and I have tried to put the best face on the hand that the Good Lord had dealt to me and mother that night back in November of 2008.
More about Fire Marshal Robert Flamretardeaux. We are really lucky to get a man of his experience. As noted he was washed away from his little hamlet in Southern Louisiana by Hurricane Katrina where he was chief of the volunteer department.
He had personally attended to over 17 fires in his long and distinguished career there in Louisiana. When we got him up here at the Milan Arsenal based refugee camp, he come right over to the fire department and spoke to Howard Milligan and was voted unanimously as the first Cedar Grove Volunteer Fire Marshall! He had been to three times as many fires as our best man, Fire Chief Mouse Featherstone.
Mouse's real name is Marvin, but he was nitnamed Mouse when he was a baby. Little Marvin put everything in his mouth as a baby and his mother was horrified one day when Marvin found a baby mouse the cat had brought up and before she could get it away from Marvin, he popped it into his little mouth, gummed it twice and swallowed it whole. Well the Featherstones waited for a couple of days for Marvin to die. His mother was even checked into the hospital with a nervous breakdown when as a joke her younger brother, Neeland Finkbinder, made a pine coffin for little Marvin and brought it over
for her approval. Nina passed out when she seen that sad little coffin. Anyway, Nina got out of the hospital, Marvin did not die, but was named Mouse, and Neeland never made another small coffin. Nothing is sadder than a small coffin except maybe a tiny wheelchair.
Jackson Delano Maybolt, President
Urban Poverty Law Center
"They don't make smores in HELL!" Mother Maybolt, 1925-2008
Today is a sad date for me. It ranks up there with the day I was eat up by the John Deere Manure Spreader, no it far and away surpasses that day and I would gladly give up my only remaining leg to have my mother back! Mother passed two years ago to the date in the Cedar Grove Bingo Parlor fire. Mother was the only victim of the fire because her hoverround high centered on a box of bingo cards that had just been delivered out of Corinth Mississippi and according to the Cedar Grove Fire Marshall, Robert F. Flamretardeaux, a Frenchman who moved up to Cedar Grove after Katrina wiped him out, was a clear violation of the fire codes, where it blocked the handicap exit.
I remember when I got the call from Fire Marhsall Retardo, that ill-fated night, I was in mother's bedroom straightening out her drawers, well it is too painful to remember but I cannot forget. As is usual with folks who move in to the area from out of state, their accents have to be practiced on your ear to be able to understand what they are saying. Anyway, Fire Marshall Flamretardeaux, phoned me and said:
"Missour, Maybo, yam afrid dat ur mutter is dad."
I moved the receiver to my good ear and asked him to repeat that please. My mutter is dad? My father has been dead for 25 years.
"Ur mutter, Madameselle Maybo, es dad!"
"No, she is not here she is at the bingo parlor, it is Wednesday night and she always is at bingo," I replied.
"Oui-oui Missur Maybo, zee es dad at da bingo parlar, der wus a fire!"
Then it struck me like that feeling you get when you first hear about your mother's death, like everything inside you lets go, whatever the force is that holds you together just lets go. All the string goes out of everything inside of you. As I hung up the phone that evening taking in what Fire Marshal Retardo had just told me, I knew my life would never be the same. I raced to my mother's handicap accessible bathroom and transferred to her handicapped accessible toilet and I sobbed uncontrollably, flapping my arm and my good leg in the air from time to time, and my bowels wept too.
This time of self pity and despair passed that night and I have tried to put the best face on the hand that the Good Lord had dealt to me and mother that night back in November of 2008.
More about Fire Marshal Robert Flamretardeaux. We are really lucky to get a man of his experience. As noted he was washed away from his little hamlet in Southern Louisiana by Hurricane Katrina where he was chief of the volunteer department.
He had personally attended to over 17 fires in his long and distinguished career there in Louisiana. When we got him up here at the Milan Arsenal based refugee camp, he come right over to the fire department and spoke to Howard Milligan and was voted unanimously as the first Cedar Grove Volunteer Fire Marshall! He had been to three times as many fires as our best man, Fire Chief Mouse Featherstone.
Mouse's real name is Marvin, but he was nitnamed Mouse when he was a baby. Little Marvin put everything in his mouth as a baby and his mother was horrified one day when Marvin found a baby mouse the cat had brought up and before she could get it away from Marvin, he popped it into his little mouth, gummed it twice and swallowed it whole. Well the Featherstones waited for a couple of days for Marvin to die. His mother was even checked into the hospital with a nervous breakdown when as a joke her younger brother, Neeland Finkbinder, made a pine coffin for little Marvin and brought it over
for her approval. Nina passed out when she seen that sad little coffin. Anyway, Nina got out of the hospital, Marvin did not die, but was named Mouse, and Neeland never made another small coffin. Nothing is sadder than a small coffin except maybe a tiny wheelchair.
Jackson Delano Maybolt, President
Urban Poverty Law Center
"They don't make smores in HELL!" Mother Maybolt, 1925-2008
Monday, October 25, 2010
Urban Poverty Law Center Supports America's Poor
One week until election day and counting. The tension within and around Washington and in the chattering classes is peaking. I was unable to raise the $1500 to have
C. Batsell Bateman Mortuary and Crematorium incinerate the hapless lowlife whom I killed with my $20 contribution last month as the calender ran out and he is now mixed with those animals euthanized at the humane shelter this week and is boxed up and unceremoniously heading to the Madison County landfill.
I often wonder if anyone can look at a dog and not see one of God's greatest creations! I am like Adolph Hitler who is reported to have said at one time in his busy life: "I know people and I know dogs, and I can honestly tell you that I like dogs!" Of course, I have taken the liberty to quote the English version as most of us would not know what to make of the German version:
"Ich bein ein Berliner, nine hunder, mitt wolfanhangers,geist flatulanders et mein pudendal grandeschmerkins. Ja? Mein hunder konamen e "Blonde"." I took a half quarter of German in Jr. College back in 1971, and never learned why the verb was so far down the sentence. It was like the German writers would have you in suspense waiting for the verb. I recall translating a Penthouse Forum letter in the original German for my midterm test, and it went something like this:
Anna's perky breasts with nipples large as saucers defying gravity for the moment in my mind were etched. Waves of Catholic guilt over my soul too great to bare until confessional as my sister in the shower, I watched. Oh, I forget the rest of the translation. It is not important.
We have not had a significant rain here in Carroll County since mid August and this has hurt the beans. That all changed yesterday when much needed rain fell like manna from heaven. Too late for the beans, but just in time for winter wheat which needs to be in place before November 15.
The second anniversary of my dear sweet mother's death is approaching and I am in a melancholia over it. I miss her terribly. As she aged she developed a peculiar odor which is best described as a mixture of sour milk and puppy-breath. All the women in my mother's family bore this trait. Sundays were often confusing as one never knew if we had a new puppy in the house or a visit from Aunt Clotile. Bathing and liniments were of no use in masking the curse as my mother's sisters would refer to it. The sweet puppy's breath would give way to sour milk as the rigors of age applied its burden on these proud and strong women.
Jack D. Maybolt President Urban Poverty Law Center
"A rich man has about as much chance of getting into heaven as a camel has avoiding sex with men in the middle east." Mother Maybolt, 1924-2008
C. Batsell Bateman Mortuary and Crematorium incinerate the hapless lowlife whom I killed with my $20 contribution last month as the calender ran out and he is now mixed with those animals euthanized at the humane shelter this week and is boxed up and unceremoniously heading to the Madison County landfill.
I often wonder if anyone can look at a dog and not see one of God's greatest creations! I am like Adolph Hitler who is reported to have said at one time in his busy life: "I know people and I know dogs, and I can honestly tell you that I like dogs!" Of course, I have taken the liberty to quote the English version as most of us would not know what to make of the German version:
"Ich bein ein Berliner, nine hunder, mitt wolfanhangers,geist flatulanders et mein pudendal grandeschmerkins. Ja? Mein hunder konamen e "Blonde"." I took a half quarter of German in Jr. College back in 1971, and never learned why the verb was so far down the sentence. It was like the German writers would have you in suspense waiting for the verb. I recall translating a Penthouse Forum letter in the original German for my midterm test, and it went something like this:
Anna's perky breasts with nipples large as saucers defying gravity for the moment in my mind were etched. Waves of Catholic guilt over my soul too great to bare until confessional as my sister in the shower, I watched. Oh, I forget the rest of the translation. It is not important.
We have not had a significant rain here in Carroll County since mid August and this has hurt the beans. That all changed yesterday when much needed rain fell like manna from heaven. Too late for the beans, but just in time for winter wheat which needs to be in place before November 15.
The second anniversary of my dear sweet mother's death is approaching and I am in a melancholia over it. I miss her terribly. As she aged she developed a peculiar odor which is best described as a mixture of sour milk and puppy-breath. All the women in my mother's family bore this trait. Sundays were often confusing as one never knew if we had a new puppy in the house or a visit from Aunt Clotile. Bathing and liniments were of no use in masking the curse as my mother's sisters would refer to it. The sweet puppy's breath would give way to sour milk as the rigors of age applied its burden on these proud and strong women.
Jack D. Maybolt President Urban Poverty Law Center
"A rich man has about as much chance of getting into heaven as a camel has avoiding sex with men in the middle east." Mother Maybolt, 1924-2008
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Urban Poverty Law Center Supports Constitution
Dear Friends,
Just a few weeks of the 2010 national campaign left and I am hoping for some change.
We at the Urban Poverty Law Center have not wanted to become political since we are applying for grants from the United States Government to help us with our fight against Urban Poverty. I do not know if I have stated our motto, but I apologize if this is something I repeat.
The Urban Poverty Law Center fights poverty at its root causes. We shovel cash
into areas where there previously was none picking off one poor soul at a time.
Just last week I gave a twenty dollar bill to a panhandler on the off ramp to I-40
and read about his demise in the local paper after scoring some good stuff at the park in Jackson. Lesson learned, a dime bag of meth would have pleased this fellow whereas two dimes were too much for his old haggard ticker. We have six weeks to raise the $1500 to have C. Batsell Bateman's funeral home intere this poor homeless
creature or the county will have him cremated at the humane shelter with the euthanized pets. Oh the humanity!
Got out to the flea market before the marriage of old folks in Cedar Grove, and picked up four fine laying hens. They have laid eggs each day since I acquired them, and are quite polite with the older hens.
I have been watching how the media has been treating Christine O'Donnell since she beat the walking cadaver, Mike Castle, in the Delaware primary last week. She sure has them stirred up. The way I see it, ole Mike don't have a dog left in him and even a six year senate seat is a stretcher by my calculations. I guess if it is only to spend the rest of VP Biden's term of maybe two years, he would have a chance, slim one.
Ms. O'Donnell is attractive enough and talks real good and she shore does have a perty mouth! I think she would be a great asset on the floor of the senate. I know if ole Teddy Kennedy was still there he would be on her like Washington on a dollar.
I wonder if she is married or has any children? I would like to be a facebook pal of hers. This is the first time I have been tempted to send any woman one of Mother Maybolt's merkins. Someone out there may advise if this would be to assuming for a gentleman to send a lady a merkin? I am awkward and not wise in the ways of relationships. Part of the territory when you live with your mother out in the country.
Jackson Delano Maybolt, President Urban Poverty Law Center
"If you can't say something nice about a person, they must be despicable." Mother Maybolt 1922-2008
Just a few weeks of the 2010 national campaign left and I am hoping for some change.
We at the Urban Poverty Law Center have not wanted to become political since we are applying for grants from the United States Government to help us with our fight against Urban Poverty. I do not know if I have stated our motto, but I apologize if this is something I repeat.
The Urban Poverty Law Center fights poverty at its root causes. We shovel cash
into areas where there previously was none picking off one poor soul at a time.
Just last week I gave a twenty dollar bill to a panhandler on the off ramp to I-40
and read about his demise in the local paper after scoring some good stuff at the park in Jackson. Lesson learned, a dime bag of meth would have pleased this fellow whereas two dimes were too much for his old haggard ticker. We have six weeks to raise the $1500 to have C. Batsell Bateman's funeral home intere this poor homeless
creature or the county will have him cremated at the humane shelter with the euthanized pets. Oh the humanity!
Got out to the flea market before the marriage of old folks in Cedar Grove, and picked up four fine laying hens. They have laid eggs each day since I acquired them, and are quite polite with the older hens.
I have been watching how the media has been treating Christine O'Donnell since she beat the walking cadaver, Mike Castle, in the Delaware primary last week. She sure has them stirred up. The way I see it, ole Mike don't have a dog left in him and even a six year senate seat is a stretcher by my calculations. I guess if it is only to spend the rest of VP Biden's term of maybe two years, he would have a chance, slim one.
Ms. O'Donnell is attractive enough and talks real good and she shore does have a perty mouth! I think she would be a great asset on the floor of the senate. I know if ole Teddy Kennedy was still there he would be on her like Washington on a dollar.
I wonder if she is married or has any children? I would like to be a facebook pal of hers. This is the first time I have been tempted to send any woman one of Mother Maybolt's merkins. Someone out there may advise if this would be to assuming for a gentleman to send a lady a merkin? I am awkward and not wise in the ways of relationships. Part of the territory when you live with your mother out in the country.
Jackson Delano Maybolt, President Urban Poverty Law Center
"If you can't say something nice about a person, they must be despicable." Mother Maybolt 1922-2008
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Urban Poetry Law Center New policy on Mosque Building
Friends, neighbors and Islamaniacs,
It is with great pleasure and a joy to add our organization to the list of supporters of the New York City, Mosque of the liberation of the islamic brothers. We had a meeting last week at the beer tavern here in Cedar Grove, and we had a great turn out thanks in no small part by The Grove sponsoring the third annual beer hall competition darts tournament.
The measure passed by a margin of 37 yeas, to one nay, and one abstention. Bufford Wickers, the oldest man in Cedar Grove, abstained, he is 104 yrs old. He has walked one and a half miles in the past two weeks, and once walked seven blocks in the pouring rain with no shelter save a black umbrella. He walked to the poll and voted for the democrat- which is a lie.
He is marrying his chilhood sweetheart, Miss Hollandeau Flatbottom, next week, a girl of 102, who still baby sits for neighbors. They have been engaged for 83 yrs, but up until three days ago their parents had steadfastly refused to grant their consent. They are planing a honeymoon trip to Viagra Falls. She hopes to conceive on the honeymoon as she has always had a hankering for having children and often admonished Bufford that her biological clock is ticking.
She plans for a large family. Bufford is not certain he is ready for that kind of commitment and bought a six-pack of trojan condoms. Quipped that i'd be his luck that one would bust and Holly would get her wish! They are both virgins and attend the Cedar Grove Church for Christ's Sakes. Reverend Ocie Cyborgue is doing the premarital counseling and will do the ceremony. If you ain't got anything better next Tuesday they plan to tie the knot right after the flea market disbands at 10 am because of the heat.
If you want spirits at the wedding party you must byob and be careful not to let the bride and the groom see it as they are active members of the Prohibition Party since its founding in 1869.
They are registered at the Dollar General Store in Trezevant.
May the Mosque be holy and built as planned. Praise be to Allah! Amen!
Jack D. Maybolt, President UPLC
Note: The above story is a plagiarism of a short by Mark Twain "A Fine Old Man".
Mr. Twain did it best!
"I never met a Muslim I did not like. But I never met a Muslim." Mother Maybolt 1923-2008
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Cedar Grove is now a sanctuary city!
I am back from yet another near death experience after having fallen on the ice, striking my head and causing what my doctor calls a fatal injury in 99 + percent of those so afflicted. I lay in a coma for nearly five and a half months, fed by tubes and when I had the misfortune of waking from my coma, my doctor quickly sent me home on vicodin and valium and wished me luck. I am a bit groggy from the medications and I apologize if my thoughts seem jumbled but I had to comment on a few of the things I slept through.
British Petroleum hits a gusher a mile deep in the Gulf of Mexico spilling, some say, a million barrels of oil each day! Put a pipe in the pipe and let it gush up into tankers and bring it to our refineries. What is so hard about that? Problems solved! If my first solution fails, peak oil theory states we are out of oil or nearly so. This being the case all we have to do is wait this million barrel a day gusher out and after a few billion barrels or so the gusher will peter out and all the oil ever produced from dead dinosaurs and their bowel contents when they were trapped 17 miles below the earth will have been spewed into our gulf waters. Warning: the abiatic theory for production of oil states oil is produced naturally from carbon and hydrogen by the heat and pressure deep in the bowels of the earth and is an ongoing, not only an ancient process. If this theory is correct that leaky pipe could cause some serious problems for a long, long time!
Arizonan vote to uphold the law against illegal immigration and the Obama
administration sues to stop Arizona from following the law. What? The message I am taking from this is that laws are only laws when they are convenient? Inconvenient laws can be ignored?
Not suprisingly, while in a coma I was voted into office and now am the Mayor of Cedar Grove, Tennessee. It seems I was the only citizen so afflicted as to not be able to decline the nomination and I won by default. Cedar Grove is unincorporated, but encompases as much real estate as most of Rhode Island.
My first act as Mayor was to make Cedar Grove, Tennessee, a sancturary site for all persons who wish to avoid paying federal income taxes. Of course you still have to pay the state and local taxes, but say good-by to those pesky FICA and SS taxes forever! Don't want to pick up and move to Cedar Grove? Well you can get a citizenship identification card which gives you all the rights and priviledges associated with Cedar Grove, TN residency by sending in $100 to:
Jackson Delano Maybolt, Mayor
PO Box 13
Cedar Grove, TN 38321
We will get you one of our tax exempt Cedar Grove, TN citizenship cards out in the mail as soon as possible. These cards are honored in all fifty states and more importantly in Washington, DC! Not trying to sound like one of those cheap early am infomercials, but this may be the best $100 you ever invested.
My head is starting to pound again and my fingers are starting to cramp up and I need to take another vicovalium and get a short nap. I am not through with my rants yet. We have building lots available to those who wish to relocate. We have city water, but you will have to get Bufford Taylor to bring his back hoe over and dig your septic system. Contact David, Banjo, Bell for more information.
Later,
Jack D. Maybolt, President
Urban Poverty Law Center
Mayor of Cedar Grove, TN
" Freedom is just another word." Mother Maybolt, (1922-2008)
British Petroleum hits a gusher a mile deep in the Gulf of Mexico spilling, some say, a million barrels of oil each day! Put a pipe in the pipe and let it gush up into tankers and bring it to our refineries. What is so hard about that? Problems solved! If my first solution fails, peak oil theory states we are out of oil or nearly so. This being the case all we have to do is wait this million barrel a day gusher out and after a few billion barrels or so the gusher will peter out and all the oil ever produced from dead dinosaurs and their bowel contents when they were trapped 17 miles below the earth will have been spewed into our gulf waters. Warning: the abiatic theory for production of oil states oil is produced naturally from carbon and hydrogen by the heat and pressure deep in the bowels of the earth and is an ongoing, not only an ancient process. If this theory is correct that leaky pipe could cause some serious problems for a long, long time!
Arizonan vote to uphold the law against illegal immigration and the Obama
administration sues to stop Arizona from following the law. What? The message I am taking from this is that laws are only laws when they are convenient? Inconvenient laws can be ignored?
Not suprisingly, while in a coma I was voted into office and now am the Mayor of Cedar Grove, Tennessee. It seems I was the only citizen so afflicted as to not be able to decline the nomination and I won by default. Cedar Grove is unincorporated, but encompases as much real estate as most of Rhode Island.
My first act as Mayor was to make Cedar Grove, Tennessee, a sancturary site for all persons who wish to avoid paying federal income taxes. Of course you still have to pay the state and local taxes, but say good-by to those pesky FICA and SS taxes forever! Don't want to pick up and move to Cedar Grove? Well you can get a citizenship identification card which gives you all the rights and priviledges associated with Cedar Grove, TN residency by sending in $100 to:
Jackson Delano Maybolt, Mayor
PO Box 13
Cedar Grove, TN 38321
We will get you one of our tax exempt Cedar Grove, TN citizenship cards out in the mail as soon as possible. These cards are honored in all fifty states and more importantly in Washington, DC! Not trying to sound like one of those cheap early am infomercials, but this may be the best $100 you ever invested.
My head is starting to pound again and my fingers are starting to cramp up and I need to take another vicovalium and get a short nap. I am not through with my rants yet. We have building lots available to those who wish to relocate. We have city water, but you will have to get Bufford Taylor to bring his back hoe over and dig your septic system. Contact David, Banjo, Bell for more information.
Later,
Jack D. Maybolt, President
Urban Poverty Law Center
Mayor of Cedar Grove, TN
" Freedom is just another word." Mother Maybolt, (1922-2008)
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Urban Poverty Law Center Takes a New Look
Friends,
Where has the time gone? In a tizzy here in Cedar Grove with the temperature below freezing daily for two and a half weeks. Chopping ice for the cows at the pond and watering the chickens twice daily has taken up all my time. Me and Junior decided to second pick our cotton field and we spent the last two weeks looking for a nice older model two row cotton picker to do the job. We got help from Kenneth Cox, a nice fellow who had the One Shot Duck Hunt on his momma's place over in Humboldt, found us a nice one owned by Jeff Hudson, who farms out in Central. It is about 40 miles from here.
The picker was reworked in 2001 by a fellow in Missoura who specializes in the older John Deere pickers. It is a model 9930 and he wanted $7500 for it but since the advent of larger pickers, the market has fallen out for the 2 row types and we got it for $6500. It sports a 135 horsepower turbocharged six cylinder diesel engine, and the basket holds a bale and a half of cotton. Me and Larry went over and picked it up last Wednesday. Larry drove it 40 miles home and I followed in my pickup truck. Top speed is 17 mph. It was a long trip. We have picked for about 16 hrs on the farm and have collected about 4 bales of cotton. Jason Luckey, the cotton farmer, did not leave as much cotton in the field as we thought. We think we will get about 8 to 10 more bales in the 80 acres we have left to pick. Jason came over yesterday to check the picker out and we could see he liked what he seen. Said he would probably buy it from us for a profit, that is if he could get his daddy to go for it. We are going to pick with them next year if they plant cotton on us again. A cotton picker is a beautiful thing.
I am not sure Jr and I will ever sell it. It is paid for and I like looking at it and soon it will be a novelty as all the other 9930's get sold to the cotton farmers overseas. We can drive it in the annual parade celebrating the Cedar Grove Hemp and Methamphetamine Festival, which acknowledges our rich Carroll County heritage of illegal substances, both production and use.
I am going to send out an add for a fund razer for Detroit, but the recent unpleasantness in Haiti has got me thinking they need our money more.
Last thought: Am I the only one who noticed the deep artic freeze over here corresponded with the Climate Summit in Denmark? God is still in charge!
Jack Maybolt, PhD
Cotton Farmer Emeritus, The Urban Poverty Law Center
"You ain't nobody unless you got a cotton picker. People with cotton pickers is folks!"
Mother Maybolt, 1926-2008
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Urban Poverty Law Center New Year Notes
Friends,
A lot has happened here in Cedar Grove over the past two weeks. We lost one of our neighbors to a tragic car accident just down the road from us. Mrs. Blunderdoss's cat, Charlotte, had three kittens and one stillborn, and Ned Lightner lost his leg below the knee to diabetes complications.
Add the Christmas celebration and New Year's Day and we have had a terrible lot of things going on for such a small community. The celebration of Christ's birth gives all hope that we have not lived pious lives in vain and that each will be rewarded with a glorious afterlife filled with joy and happiness to be reunited with family members who passed this way before us.
Detroit dozer fund razer update: Charlie Savery, the Caterpillar salesman, said he would work with us on the purchase of the dozer and offered to sell us a lease back dozer for $30,000 less than a new one. This essentially gets us $30,000 closer to our dream. The machine did easy work at the landfill in Newbern Tn. Charlie said he would see to it that it came with a carton of those air fresheners you hang up that look like little evergreen trees. With the bad economy around here we have decided to go national for the bulk of our fund razing, and have hired a public relations firm out of Jackson TN to help us get this thing off the ground. Becky Sue Taylor's granddaughter, Shirley Findlayson, works for the firm as an executive secretary. She said they have handled some big accounts like Scooter Timble and the Timeless Singing Boatmen, which is a barbershop quartet, the Timeless Singing Boatmen, with Scooter accompanying them on the accordion. I saw them once at the Jackson Metropolitan Grand Ole Opry Center after eating with Mother at the Cracker Barrel. Scooter Timble was hot that night!
Not a dry eye in the house when they did that rendition of Swing Low Sweet Chariot!
We have had some terrible cold weather here of late. Down to 9 at night with highs of mid 20's. I had to get daddy's old down hunting jacket out of the attic and wear it to keep warm when I go over and feed the chickens. Blasted cold makes taking water out to the chickens a daily proposition! I find if I take a gallon of hot water and pour it on the ice in the bowl it melts the ice and they seem to enjoy drinking the warmer water. My 17 birds have dropped to 15 as another dropped dead over the holidays. Bobby Woodard, the local poultry expert, said it was probably a heart attack. He's seen it before. Let me tell you it does not make it any easier to loose one, those chickens were just like chickens to me. I can see I will have to buy some more chickens when the weather gets nicer. I like to get them at about 5 months and feed them up to about 9 months when they become mature enough to lay eggs. I like the eggs. Only got four eggs yesterday. I think the cold shuts the egg-maker off. I will have to ask Bobby about this next time I see him.
I don't know about you but I am grateful the holidays are over and we had no more trouble around here than we did. The two weeks from mid December to Jan 2, have historically proved tumultuous for my community and this past one was not an exception. I pray we and you are headed for normalcy in the year to come. Is it too much to expect, Global Normal Temperatures, World Peace, terrorists ridding their undergarments of explosives and renouncing their ways, honest politicians, beautiful women, smart children who are polite and do their homework, chickens with healthy hearts, lower taxes, honesty from our federal reserve bank, gold under a thousand dollars an ounce and $40 dollar a barrel oil.
Next I will tell you about Coxville's First Annual New Years Day One Shot Duck Hunt. I was privy to participate as Kenneth Cox, has a handicapped accessible duck blind down in the bottom. I will save the particulars for later. Suffice it to say everybody had a good time!
Jackson Delano Maybolt, PhD
President, Urban Poverty Law Center
When politicians are leaving in droves without being voted out it is time to count the silverware! Mother Maybolt 1925-2008
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Urban Poetry Law Center
Friends,
Two Weak Absence
The Poem
By Jack D. Maybolt
Away in a manger no computer for to write
My mentor and hero his chest did get tight
Scaring us all and giving such a great fright
Praying each evening that he'd be all right
Hoping against hope that he would rush back
to the microphone which is golden and black
where he leads us to think our country is sacked
by the left and the right who is mostly whacked
The poetry is not poverty but this poem sucks
I am going to quit it and buy some new trucks
Jackson D Maybolt Poet Enematus
The Urban Poverty Law Center
Where we are into poverty, other peoples, that is.
"Never take a cat to a dog fight." Mother Maybolt 1922-2008
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