Our kids need to get out more.
Our kids need to get out more.
In spite of the fact that I have been AWOL for quite some time, I will not let my countrymen and countrywomen down. I am aware of my patriotic duty.
And I will fulfill it. Or fill the pot with it.
The Washington Post today ran an article about the Trumps’ request to borrow a painting from the Guggenheim Museum in New York City. The painting they requested is a Van Gogh. I can say, that I wouldn’t mind having private access to a Van Gogh, myself. Especially if I had already been exposed has trying to pass off a fake Renoir as a real one.
Anyway, here’s the painting they requested for the White House residence:
Instead, they offered an alternative:
The curator’s alternative: an 18-karat, fully functioning, solid gold toilet — an interactive work titled “America” that critics have described as pointed satire aimed at the excess of wealth in this country.
For a year, the Guggenheim had exhibited “America” — the creation of contemporary artist Maurizio Cattelan — in a public restroom on the museum’s fifth floor for visitors to use.
But the exhibit was over and the toilet was available “should the President and First Lady have any interest in installing it in the White House,” Spector wrote in an email obtained by The Washington Post.
The artist “would like to offer it to the White House for a long-term loan,” wrote Spector, who has been critical of Trump. “It is, of course, extremely valuable and somewhat fragile, but we would provide all the instructions for its installation and care.”
My friend Mark, at Exile on Pain Street, wrote about his personal experience with this, ahh, exhibit, a while back. But I couldn’t find the link.
No word on whether the Donald will accept the loan.
I just thought you needed to know about this.
Every day of my life, I thank my lucky stars when I get up, go into my clean bathroom, and take care of business.
Some days of my life, I’m less thankful when I am somewhere where the only “facilities” have no running water. No handle to push. No way to wash my hands.
Of course, with my potty problems, I guess I’m more in tune to toilet issues than most people.
Why am I telling you this? You see, Sunday, November 19, is World Toilet Day. And of course, I’m (1) telling you about it; and (2) celebrating it.
The point of World Toilet Day is actually pretty important. People without access to hygienic facilities risk illness, many women are preyed upon and attacked as they seek out a place to go. Diseases are transmitted, including infections, cholera, well, here’s a picture.
Hope you’re not eating.
World Toilet Day is to help the fortunate ones of us around the world realize that:
2.4 billion people around the world don’t have access to decent sanitation and more than a billion are forced to defecate in the open, risking disease and other dangers, according to the United Nations
We in the West are rather spoiled. And the reality of what some folks, many folks must deal with can be eye-opening.
About 25 years ago, my brother Fred got a grant and went to Africa to study something or other. It was his first experience visiting the Third World. When he came back, he talked only about poop.
It seemed that the city he had visited ran with raw sewage. Poop was in the gutters. Children played in those gutters. The sewage ran into the river that was used to irrigate crops.
Piles of poop were everywhere. In the street. Under trees. In the corners of buildings; everywhere, he said. Even inside. Fred described a memorable elevator in the middle of a hotel lobby, that he had seen. The decorative ironwork around the elevator shaft was delicate and beautiful. But the elevator didn’t run — in fact, the elevator itself had been removed. But people would stand with their backs to the elevator shaft, pull down their pants/up their skirts, hang their butts over the open elevator shaft. And they’d poop.
“I realized something incredibly important, “ said my horrified brother:
“Civilization all comes down to what you do with your poo.”
So when you’re thinking about the craziness in today’s world, maybe we all need to realize that part of our problem is that so very many people just don’t have a pot to piss in.
Yup, it’s a rerun. But you didn’t really think I’d miss World Toilet Day, did you?
You won’t be at all surprised to learn that I am sitting here at my computer figuratively shitting bricks about the latest news about the latest attempt of the Senate GOP to repeal Obamacare.
I’ve already written to my Senators (who will vote against it, they’re both Dems), to Senator Collins and Murkowski urging them to stand fast. I sent a link to my story of how loss of insurance in 1982 led me to a suicide attempt (albeit a stupid one) to Senator John McCain. I’ve called everybody I can.
You can reach your senators via this link:
You can call your Senators via this phone number
Because if we don’t succeed, I will have to take drastic measures. And I know just what to do.
I recently read an article about a “Mad Pooper” who is on the loose in Colorado Springs, Colorado. She’s a jogger, who periodically drops her drawers and poops.
Now, in spite of 45 years of bowel problems, I do have a smattering of pride left. So I don’t want to do this.
But loss of insurance once led me to contemplate drastic action with a tetherball thing-y on Capitol property. Dropping my drawers and producing something nasty would be a breeze. And I will poop up and down the hallways of the United States Senate.
So call your Senators. Get them to vote AGAINST the Cassidy-Graham bill.
DON’T MAKE ME DO IT
CALL YOUR SENATORS
Being a fake medical expert has become a bit passe, frankly. And that expertise came after my rarely discussed time as environmental science expertise honed as a lowly paralegal/legislative & regulatory assistant/lobbyist.
So I figure I’m ready for a new challenge. And just in time for World IBD Day, I’m takin’ on physics!
The Physics of Poop, of course. And I think you will agree that I do have the expertise. And the, ummm, credentials. And I don’t have to go far for sample collection.
You see, there’s an article I read. (Of course there’s an article.)
You know it’s a good article, because this is the photo that accompanies the article:
The authors, David Hu and Patricia Yang, studied poop every which way but Sunday. Well, maybe Sunday, too. Because there are some chores that simply must be done 7 days a week.
They discovered that herbivores produced “floaters” and carnivores plopped “sinkers.” And apparently “stinkers” too, as tigers apparently have the stinkiest poop and panda poop is positively precious.
Bigger animals, not surprisingly, are more prodigious poopers, but interestingly, the speed of poop production is similar regardless of the size of the animal:
Assuming a bell curve distribution, 66 percent of animals take between 5 and 19 seconds to defecate. It’s a surprisingly small range, given that elephant feces have a volume of 20 liters, nearly a thousand times more than a dog’s, at 10 milliliters.
In all honesty, the attraction of the article wasn’t the significant increase in my already vast knowledge and understanding of poop.
Nope. There were two reasons.
First, it’s the fact that this article alerted me to the existence of NASA’s
I think you will admit that I should be an automatic contender.
More importantly, this article gave me something to write about to celebrate World IBD Day. And while I personally celebrate every day, you, personally can have fun with poop on World IBD Day. Don’t say I never gave you anything.
But WAIT! There’s MORE! After this post went to press, I found this article.
Golly. Studying poop has become a 24/7 commitment for me.
Earlier today, after spending hours trying to digest/swallow Putin’s President’s nominee for the Supreme Court, I tried not to vomit. That continued as I tried not to go ballistic over the fact that the Senate Finance Committee cheated by changing the rules for reporting nominations out of committee and sent PRICE — nominee who wants to gut Obamacare, Medicare, Medicaid and Social Security — out for an up or down vote on the senate floor. You see, in the real world — pre-Trump — the Senate had rules. They followed those rules. And things worked out OK.
Now? Not so much. Things don’t seem to be going quite so well.
So naturally, I thought of poop. And my friend Nikki/Jordan provided the backup for my concerns. Sloths.
So I’m figuring that the Trump Administration is a collection of sloths, all holding in their shit for a week at a time. And that explains how miserable they are. Constipation doesn’t make for happy government nominees.
This explains everything.
Cut it out — right now. Just stop being an asshole. You’re far too young.
We already have to deal with Donald Trump sullying the Oval Office.
We already see our rights, our civil liberties, our healthcare, Medicare, Social Security, all flushed down the toilet. [No. I’m not going to illustrate a flushing toilet. What do you take me for?]
But you’re off to a bad start otherwise, too.
Stop taking people. Or stop taking good people.You need to take someone? I have some suggestions. Call me, 2017, so the U.S. Secret Service doesn’t.
But Mary? You took Mary? You left Trump and took Mary?
Jeez, 2017. Cut. It. Out.