Really?

Gender Bender at Bay Area College

I wrote this article for my monthly column in the “Buffalo Gap News Roundup,” published in Buffalo Gap, Texas.

I admit it. I live in Kooksville.

An all-women’s college here in the San Francisco Bay Area is expanding its definition of female.  Mills College, near Oakland, is now the first single-sex college in the country to spell out exactly who is eligible to attend their women’s school.

I know a thinking person would assume “all-women” meant just that, but again I live in Kooksville so obviously folks like me need to be clued in.

Brian O’Rourke (yes, interestingly a man), Vice President for Enrollment Management at Mills, told KTVU-TV that Mills needed to update its admission qualifications. “We felt we needed to have a [new] policy in place. We really are a place of inclusion,” he said.

The new inclusive policy states “applicants who self-identify as women, even if they’re not female at birth” may attend the school.  Translated, this means men who feel like a women (makes me think of that great song by Shania Twain), have the XY chromosomes and all their male parts, but for some reason want to tinkle sitting down (so to speak), can apply for admission at Mills.  The official name for these types is “transgender.”

“It is still possible for him to come to Mills and graduate,” said O’Rourke with a smile.

Perhaps O’Rourke should have said, “shim” instead of “him?” After all, Mills is a women’s college. Just thinking out loud.

Of course Mills will also accept “transsexual” women. These are guys who surgically swapped out their male equipment for female parts.

But wait, there’s more.

The school is also proud to announce, “applicants who are neither male nor female but were assigned to the female sex at birth” may also apply.

You read that right.  And it was news to me too: people who were born neither male nor female but assigned to the female sex at birth. 

Could you imagine the conversation that must have occurred in the delivery room?

“What is it doc, a boy or a girl?”

After a long pause the doctor says, “Yes.”

 

San Francisco’s (Poop) Problem

I do a lot of walking in San Francisco as a part of my fitness routine. The steep hills of the city make for a challenging workout and the spectacular views of the Bay make my long walks very enjoyable. However during certain portions of my treks I really have to watch my step because of…poop.  The excrement problem is not of the canine variety (there are strict laws prohibiting that). I’m talking about poop of the human kind.

For decades, feces on the streets and sidewalks has been a serious quality-of-life issue for San Francisco residents and visitors.  The problem is particularly bad in an area of the city known as the Tenderloin, where many homeless shelters and do-gooder organizations reach out to these people. The Tenderloin adjoins the world famous shopping and theatre district.

To address the matter San Francisco’s Department of Public Works spent thousands of dollars to create a poop map.  Seriously. For a month inspectors were sent out to specifically locate human excrement.  In addition to counting stools the survey found that most often people who defecated in public sought some sort of privacy, whether it was a fire exit doorway, alleyway or between parked cars.

Can you imagine working on this study?  More importantly would you honestly be able admit to your buddies that you were a human crap counter?

The map generated by the Department was eventually published in the San Francisco Chronicle, complete with exact locations and number of “incidents.”  Following the report the city rolled out three mobile poop units that they’ve now set up in the three most well used areas.

The units are known as “The Tenderloin Pit Stop.”

“We’re championing our residents’ right to clean streets and a safe place to do their business with dignity,” San Francisco Supervisor Jane Kim, told the Chronicle.

Problem is San Francisco has tried this idiotic plan before.  In the mid-1990s the city spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on self-cleaning public toilets that quickly ended up becoming private workplaces for prostitutes and drug dealers (as well as love shacks for those of various persuasions couldn’t wait to “get a room” as they say).

Of course these Pit Stops are pricey—about $50,000 apiece. Mounted on a fancy flatbed trailers they are solar powered, include two specially outfitted private stalls each with a toilet, sink, and a needle disposal bin.

By the way, the latter feature is not because so many of the homeless suffer from diabetes.

A non-judgmental attendant is present as well (likely making $20 per hour with benefits and pension), providing the occupants with a courtesy knock on the door after five minutes.  The doors lock from the inside, but the attendant has a key to open them from the outside if needed.

Adding to the absurdity is that clearly San Francisco’s poop research must indicate the homeless only do their big business between 2 and 9 p.m. Tuesday through Friday because those are the only hours of operation.

 

Duh: brains of men and women different

A recent study has shown “for the first time” that the brains of men and women are different.

Duh. Anyone with a brain in their head knows that. Consider this scenario from a story I was once told:

A guy named Fred is attracted to a woman named Martha. He asks her out to a movie, she accepts and they have a good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.

Then, one evening when they’re driving home, a thought occurs to Martha and she says, “Do you realize that, as of tonight, we’ve been seeing each other for exactly six
months?”

Her thought is followed by silence in the car.

To Martha, it becomes a painful silence. She thinks to herself, Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe he’s been feeling confined by our relationship. Maybe he thinks I’m trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn’t want.

And Fred is thinking, Wow. Six months.

And Martha is thinking,  I’m not so sure I want this kind of relationship either. Maybe I need a little space so I can have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are.  I mean, where are we going anyway?  Are we heading toward marriage? Toward a family? Toward a lifetime together? 

Meantime, Fred is thinking, So that means it was…let’s see…February when we started going out, which was right after I had the car at the dealer, which means…lemme check the odometer…Whoa! I am way overdue for an oil change here.

And Martha is thinking: He’s upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I’m reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed – even before I sensed it – that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that’s it. That’s why he’s so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He’s afraid of being rejected.

And Fred is thinking: And I’m gonna have them look at the transmission again. I don’t care what those morons say, it’s still not shifting right.  And they better not try to blame it on the cold weather this time. What cold weather? It’s 77 degrees out, and this thing is shifting like a garbage truck, and I paid those incompetent guys $850.

And Martha is thinking: He’s clearly angry. Well I don’t blame him. I’d be angry, too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can’t help the way I feel. 

And Fred is thinking: They’ll probably say I’m past the warranty.

And Martha is thinking: Maybe I’m just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I’m sitting right next to a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.

And Fred is thinking: Warranty? They want a warranty? I’ll give them a warranty. I’ll take their warranty and stick it right up their…

“Fred,” Martha says aloud.

“What?”

“Please don’t torture yourself like this,” Martha says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. “Maybe I should never have–oh dear. I feel so–”

“What?” interrupts Fred.

“I’m such a fool,” Martha sobs. “I mean, I know there’s no knight. I really know that. It’s silly. There’s no knight, and there’s no horse.”

“There’s no horse?” asks Fred.

“You think I’m a fool, don’t you?”

“No!”  Fred exclaims.

“It’s just that, I think I need some time,” Martha says.

Confused, Fred reaches toward Martha and touching her hand  says, “Okay?”

“Oh, Fred, do you really feel that way?”

“What way?”

“About needing some time.”

“Oh. I guess.”

Gazing into his eyes, Martha says, “Thank you, Fred.”

Fred drives Martha to her home and says goodnight.  Martha falls upon her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn, whereas when Fred gets back to his place, he opens a bag of Doritos, turns on the TV, and immediately becomes deeply involved in a rerun of a football game between two NCAA Division-2 teams that he has never heard of. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on in the car, but he is pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, so he figures it’s better if he doesn’t think about it.

The next day Martha will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for six straight hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification.

They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it either.

Meanwhile months later, Fred, while playing golf one day with a friend who knows Martha, will pause just before teeing off, and ask: “Norm, did Martha ever own a horse?”

And that’s the difference between the brains of men and women.

 

Turbine Kills Bat, Shuts Down Wind Farm

Thirty-five windmills at a wind farm in Pennsylvania,  are no longer running at night since a bat  was found dead under one of the turbines.

According to the Associated Press, the farm was forced to shut down the windmills during the night time hours, after the bat, a supposed endangered species, was found dead in September.

By the way, you read the copy correct.  We’re talking about one dead bat.

The wind farm covers parts of Portage, Washington, and Cresson Townships in Cambria County, and part of Blair County, about 60 miles east of Pittsburgh.

An animal rights group found out about the dead bat and went ballistic, immediately contacting the energy provider.

A spokesman for Duke Energy, which owns the wind farm, says it has an agreement with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to determine whether bats are regularly being harmed by the windmills.  Now Fish and Wildlife is spending taxpayer money to conduct research.

The windmills will likely resume nighttime operation in mid-November, when the bats go into hibernation until spring.  After that, the turbines will probably be shut down again each evening at sunset.

The reduced generation  of electricity from the wind turbines will decrease overall efficiency of the farm, thus causing the cost of this “green” energy source to be even more expensive for the consumer than it already is.

As I share in Climategate, dead birds have been hampering wind farms for years.  In California, home to the oldest and largest wind farm (Altamont, east of San Francisco), millions of dollars in studies, paid for by the utility company,  have been conducted.  Some of the turbines have been turned off, some have been modified, others see limited use.

New Anti-Bullying Law: Big Brother is Here

We’re now discovering how the anti-bullying law New Jersey Governor Chris Christie signed in January is being implemented, and it’s shocking.  The legislation might as well have been written by George Orwell.

The law, known locally as the Anti-Bullying Bill of Rights, is a comprehensive policy that seeks to punish students who engage in “Harassment, Intimidation and Bullying.”  I’m not a fan of any of those things, but this command is a violation of free speech, thought, and association.  In addition the law creates a new bureaucracy of anti-bullying enforcers, and uses precious class time to modify student behavior.

Get ready, folks. Your state’s liberal lawmakers see this one as a model.

Each school district in New Jersey is using the legislation to craft their own implementation plan.  The Paterson Board of Education procured a 29-page policy procedure, entitled, “Harassment, Intimidation, and Bullying,” that includes the following:

– The law applies to all acts of harassment, intimidation, and bullying, including those that occur “off school grounds.”

– Harassment, intimidation, and bullying shall include behavior that is determined to be “insulting.”

– A student will be guilty of harassment, intimidation, and bullying if they are providing “passive support.”  In other words, if a student is watching the incident and does nothing to stop it, that student will be considered an accomplice.

– Consequences for harassment, intimidation, and bullying will include suspension, detention, expulsion, “deprivation of privileges,” and bans from school programs (including sports).

– “Remediation Measures” will include “corrective instruction,” and “behavioral management,” and “therapy.”  This means students will taken out of class and brainwashed by therapists, liberal PH.D.’s and prescription-writing psychiatrists.

– Other plans to deal with harassment, intimidation, and bullying will include “modifications of schedules” and “adjustments in hallway traffic” designed to shun the accused and remove him/her from the general school population.

– For anonymous reporting of harassment, intimidation, and bullying there will be “locked boxes located in areas of a school where reports can be submitted without fear of being observed.”  What a way for a  jilted lover to get even.

As for the layers of bureaucracy, “The Superintendent shall appoint a district Anti-Bullying Coordinator.”  When charges arise, the Coordinator will notify the “Affirmative Action Officer,” who will “provide data…to the Department of Education.”  Also, the “Principal in each school shall appoint a school Anti-Bullying Specialist.” The Specialist will “lead the investigation of incidents of harassment, intimidation, and bullying in the school.”  Plus, a “School Safety Team shall be formed in each school” and “receive any complaints of harassment, intimidation, and bullying of pupils that have been reported to the Principle.

This law will be used to institute a Big Brother mindset within our next generation.  They will grow up accepting that they are an arm of the politically correct establishment.  Over the years, as more and more intrusive laws are passed, the neighborhood snitches will be prepared to tattle. Not recycling?  They’ll tell on you.  Spanking your children? They’ll bust you.  Forcing you kids to go to church or pray?  There may be a law against that someday too.

In the meantime freedom of speech, including thought and expression, is being killed by this New Jersey law. How Governor Christie could possibly sign this bill saddens me.

You can read the entire Paterson policy here.