Obama’s Numbers Continue To Plummet:

But most markedly with males.

Why might that be?

I’ll write what few men have the balls to write:

It’s because most women base decisions predicated but upon emotions rather than facts.

Men [with the exception of the current generation upcoming] tend to base their decisions upon facts rather than emotions. More of that terribly dispassionate Venus vs Mars thing.

Men are problem-solvers. Women are expressers.

Studies have proven that women are, essentially, soothed and calmed by the sound of their own continued voices. Men, on the other hand, are only provided with a certain limited number of words from birth. They parse their words accordingly. Women have no such genetic limitations.

Current upcoming generations of males have been so coddled and drugged and repressed that they think they have vaginas instead of balls. Crying: good. Hitting your aggressor in the face: bad.

Estrogen has a place. And, oddly enough, so does testosterone.

In, at least, equal if not greater measures.

Back to the Gallup poll:

(CNSNews.com) – President Barack Obama’s job approval rating among American men has fallen to a record low, hitting 39 percent in the week of Aug. 16-22, according to the Gallup Poll.

The week of Aug. 16-22 also marked the first time Obama’s average weekly approval rating dropped below 40 percent for either gender. His approval rating among American women was 46 percent for the week.

When Obama was inaugurated in January 2009, his job approval rating was 64 percent among men and 69 percent among women, according to Gallup. That was the highest his approval ever hit with men.

I say this: luckily, the bulk of men in America are not yet women — though this paradigm is changing. Real men still recognize a poseur, a liar, a narcissist when they see one.

BZ

P.S.

Check this out. It had best NOT be YOU.

Venezuela: Deadlier Than Iraq?

Actually: YES.

Venezuela, under the benevolent and glorious leader Hugo Chavez (just ask Sean Penn and Cindy Sheehan), is a more deadly country than Iraq. Imagine that. Heard this in the Mainstream Media, did you? Likely not, I submit.

In fact, Sean Penn said that journalistas who even hint that Chavez is a dictator should be subject to prison terms.

Such an enlightened man, that Sean Penn.

Here’s a gruesome distinction: Under Hugo Chavez, Caracas is more dangerous than Baghdad and, although their populations are approximately the same size, Venezuela is more dangerous than Iraq.

And it’s not even close. In 2009 in Iraq, there were 4,644 violent civilian deaths. In Venezuela, according to figures attributed to the Venezuela Observatory of Violence, the number was 16,047. Even that figure is probably on the low side. A leaked government report says the number is over 19,000.

Venezuela may well be the most violent country in Latin America. In Caracas, the homicide rate is 200 per 100,000 population. In neighboring Bogota, Colombia, once notorious for its violence, it is 22.7 per 100,000. (For the entire U.S., it is 5.4 per 100,000 inhabitants.) Since 2007, there have been 43,792 homicides in Venezuela; over approximately the same period of time, 28,000 have been killed in Mexico’s drug-fueled violence, according to The New York Times.

Keeping that in mind, compare and contrast those Muslim Imams who are baldly stating that over half a million Iraqi civilians have been killed by Americans in that country. Another lie. A lie. Spelled LIE.

But because it conflicts with the general philosophy/belief systems of Leftist American “journalistas,” you won’t read of this fact.

Because the MSM (MainStream Media) truly IS, as I call them, the DEM: Defeatist, Elitist Media.

Once again, this is why you read my blog and other Conservative sites. We provide information you would otherwise not acquire — by the remarkable ignorance, willful blindness and purposeful exclusions of the MSM/DEM.

BZ

P.S.
Actress Maria Conchita Alonso blasts Penn for his views. She is my new favorite actress.

A License To Blog? It’s Not Theory — It’s HERE:

It looks like cash hungry local governments are getting awfully rapacious these days:

Between her blog and infrequent contributions to ehow.com, over the last few years she says she’s made about $50. To [Marilyn] Bess, her website is a hobby. To the city of Philadelphia, it’s a potential moneymaker, and the city wants its cut.

In May, the city sent Bess a letter demanding that she pay $300, the price of a business privilege license.

“The real kick in the pants is that I don’t even have a full-time job, so for the city to tell me to pony up $300 for a business privilege license, pay wage tax, business privilege tax, net profits tax on a handful of money is outrageous,” Bess says.

It would be one thing if Bess’ website were, well, an actual business, or if the amount of money the city wanted didn’t outpace her earnings six-fold. Sure, the city has its rules; and yes, cash-strapped cities can’t very well ignore potential sources of income. But at the same time, there must be some room for discretion and common sense.

When Bess pressed her case to officials with the city’s now-closed tax amnesty program, she says, “I was told to hire an accountant.”

She’s not alone. After dutifully reporting even the smallest profits on their tax filings this year, a number — though no one knows exactly what that number is — of Philadelphia bloggers were dispatched letters informing them that they owe $300 for a privilege license, plus taxes on any profits they made.

Even if, as with Sean Barry, that profit is $11 over two years.

To say that these kinds of draconian measures are detrimental to the public discourse would be an understatement.

Guess what, boys and girls?
Bend over, here it comes:
An attempt to not only SILENCE you but an attempt to TAX you from GOVERNMENTS.
Torches and pitchforks, anyone?
BZ
P.S.

Another reason I don’t place ads on my blog, though I am solicited to do this every day.

Proud To Be a SILVERBACK

Are you a Silverback? Were you a Silverback?

I am.

A Silverback is an 800-pound gorilla with 1. Training 2. Education and 3. Experience. MUCH experience. And a memory.

I am one of those persons that your organization hates to acknowledge because we stand as testimony to prior times and because we possess the bulk of your Institutional Memory.

We know how to do the job correctly.

We know when you fuck up.

We call you on it.

We know what the organization used to look like when it operated efficiently.

We contrast that as to how it operates now, which is why Silverbacks are mostly despised by upper management.

Unless, of course, the organization continues to function with efficiency and consideration for both customer and employee.

As I wrote in my very prior post in comments:

I am what I call a Silverback. Every agency and industry and entity needs a Silverback. We hold the Institutional Memories for our organizations. We call our organizations on stupid moves. We remind our organizations of their history. We are the Inconvenient Truths of our organizations. Because we have Been There and Done That and, worse yet, we have Memories and Know Where The Bodies Are Buried.

In truth, being a Silverback can be somewhat liberating.

Spread the word. Use the term.

Silverbacks can hold the key to your organization.

You ignore them at your own peril.

Are you a Silverback? Were you a Silverback?

BZ

Ribs

So there I was.

Yesterday at work was one of the worst in recent memory. Whereas before I had been in the Training Division for the past twelve years, was the Rangemaster for my department, then the EVOC Supervisor — I lost my EVOC job last year when it was eliminated in budget cuts. I found myself flopped back to the “corrections” system in a facility where I actually had begun this career — ahem — 30+ years ago, shall we say.

Now, there is essentially no training division for the department at all.

That said, I have been the supervisor for 50+ deputies per shift for almost a year now. My first duty on my very first day was to lay off deputies from my new facility, collect their equipment, radios, keys, etc., and shove them out the door. Some supervisors did just that; I found it callous and reprehensible. Neither the Sheriff for my department nor any of his Chief Deputies showed up to shake their hands and thank them for their service. No. None of the executive staff deigned to lower themselves to that level — they would have had to actually face their troops and actually answer difficult questions.

Instead, I ended up talking to those I had to personally process; I helped carry the contents of their lockers and their possessions out to their cars. Some were stoic; some were trying not to cry; some were running tears as their backs were turned to their remaining young friends watching them leave.

We lost over 170 young troops in one day.

Since then, I have watched my department continue to mismanage funds and hemorrhage personnel. Of course, none of the people on the fourth floor lost their own cell phones, offices, take-home cars. Trust me, their trunks are still comprised more of golf clubs than emergency equipment.

The facility is a powderkeg waiting to blow. The various gangs are consolidating their power. Two internal housing areas in my facility were shut down for “cost savings.” Yet the arrests haven’t stopped in my county, of course — and everyone has to be somewhere. There are two fewer housing areas, more inmates, fewer deputies. The gangs know we are hurt and bleeding. They are making moves and violence is up. Assaults on inmates are up. And public disrespect towards my deputies is climbing geometrically because the inmates — many of them wards of the State of Cali and senior gang members — realize our plight. They’re human; they’re not stupid. And they can read the papers, to which many of them subscribe, and watch the news, due to TVs in all the pods.

Yesterday was another point in the stretching sanity. Too few troops to do too many jobs, nursing staff cut, no psych staff at all on weekends. Demands made. Hurt inmates, crazy inmates, med runs, tempers, frustration, anger. Fingers pointing at other shifts. A facility commander who, at 47, decides he’s had enough with his assignment and the department itself. His office was cleaned out two weeks before his troops all knew he was thinking of leaving. He’s jumping ship. Our Sheriff is jumping ship at the end of his single term. And specifically, good riddance to him.

I patched wounds and I patched egos and I provided a listening board for numerous young deputies yesterday, one who was doing her best not to burst into tears from frustration. I solved problems and spoke in soothing tones and put a lid on the boiling emotions. Everyone is on edge.

This is one very dangerous place.

BZ

P.S.
And to think I originally wanted to write about ribs today. I was derailed by thoughts of my immediate reality and our economy.