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
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