Yellow Isn't Another Shade Of Green

Yellow Isn't Another Shade Of Green

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[Re: Letters, “Red-Light Cameras are the Devil,” Jan. 31-Feb. 6] Let’s hope “impoverished college student” Stephanie Porter isn’t majoring in logic, since she doesn’t seem to catch the disconnect between running a red light and claiming to be “innocent” and “law-abiding.”

Why the sad song about being “impoverished,” like that should carry some immunity from traffic laws? Will the pedestrian she hits be any less dead because of her financial status? And since the bleeding hearts got their way with the big “photo-enforced” signs at every intersection with cameras in town, running a light at one of those places is a pretty sure bet for a $100 hit, so it seems like “impoverished” folks in particular shouldn’t be doing that.

But, hey, we wouldn’t want to be “without compassion” or “without humanity,” so since Stephanie was only 0.19 seconds into the red light, we‘ll let it slide. While we’re at it, let’s wink at everybody’s Breathalyzer readings that are only 0.19 over the limit, too. And no sweat when Stephanie’s weekly paycheck is always $19 short and the tuition assistance payment comes in only 19 days late every time. Isn’t that “really the way we want our law enforcement system” and everything else to run, with a little “common sense”?

It might help to note that a yellow light is not just another shade of green. Yellow doesn’t mean keep going and proceed through the light. It means slow down and stop. End of problem, and end of $100 fines.

Temporary Insanity?

Lately there has been a spate of letters accusing The Don of insanity. This recalls an interesting article I’ve saved from a sociology textbook in which various state mental hospitals and psychiatric institutions were put to the test to determine their accuracy in distinguishing the sane from the insane. Eight sane people over a period of time gained secret admission to 12 different hospitals. Astonishingly, in each case, the staff failed to recognize the sane people in their institutions. The doctors, the trained psychologists, the nurses and orderlies all failed, every time. The only people in these hospitals able to spot the sane in their midst were the legitimate patients, some of whom even correctly guessed that a study was being conducted.

Let’s not forget Jeffrey Dahmer (as if we could), who kidnapped, murdered and attempted to reanimate the corpses of his victims in order to collect a harem of zombie sexual robot slaves. He was tested by a panel of psychiatrists by order of the court … and declared sane.

Dr. Henry Cotton, head psychiatrist of
Trenton State Hospital in New Jersey in the ’30s, believed insanity was caused by infections hiding latent in organs of the body. He set up an operating theater in his institution and, dispensing with formalities such as consent forms from concerned family members, dragged patients kicking and screaming into surgery, removing sections of stomachs, colons, esophagi and whole sets of teeth. In order to demonstrate his conviction, he operated on his own sons, who both later committed suicide. His mortality rate was more than 30 percent, yet until the day he died, he received nothing but accolades from his superiors in the field, who thought his research a valuable asset to the study of mental illness.

Those who uphold the standards of modern civilized behavior are quick to suggest medication for those who advocate a life of simplicity lived close to nature. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to live a simple, communal, natural life anywhere in the world, particularly here in the United States, land of the free. It’s truly a miracle how anyone managed to live without all these benefits of civilization for a couple million years, with only their herbs and wacky witch doctors. Not only primitive brown farmers, but also forests, oceans and even Jim Scarantino’s wolves have no hope of surviving without constant monitoring by scientists and government agencies. Without genetically modified food, psychiatric drugs, pesticides, bleach and nuclear weapons, we have no hope of stemming the tide of wilderness, which must be subjugated to our will; otherwise we’re all going to go crazy from exposure to chaotic nature. Hurry up! Call your doctor.

Spaceport To Nowhere

Gov. Bill is back, but can we afford him? He bought a super-computer a year ago that doesn’t work (it can’t even get Daskalos’ driver history updated), a jet that flies too fast and costs too much to maintain, a spaceport to nowhere, a train that has "ballooned" in price, and we paid his salary for a year and got what? The gov panders to people with power and money. I don’t think he’ll create any new jobs for space-nannies or terraformer gardners anytime soon. The gov should transfer his office to the Rail Runner. If we’re going to get railroaded, he might as well live like a robber baron. He’s a good governor, though; just not for New Mexico–ask his friend Many Aragon. I bet North Korea would like to have him. Then all New Mexicans could get a North Korean driver’s license. All aboard!

Zipcar Band Wagons?

[Re: Blog, “The Daily Word,” Jan. 29] This was a good idea before gas was $3 a gallon, but I believe Albuquerque is now ready to start buying things that make them feel green , you phony, all-natural schmucks. You’re green when I say you are. If you lack security and need conformation, I’m always near–look for the boy on the purple BMX who rides alone. Oh, and I guess the greenie-weenies misplaced their bikes this winter–or their priorities?

Chances are you’re no doctor, lawyer, city official or reporter. So where the F do you need to be in such a hurry? Slow down! Ride bikes! Two wheels!

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