Worst Job Ever?

Old Jules, what was the worst job you ever had?

I worked a while long shoring out of Houston, where some of the most unusual and worst jobs of my life [hopefully] lasted a day loading and unloading ship cargo. The worst was ‘green’ rawhide, loading onto ships usually headed for Japan. They’d lower pallets of stinking, bloody, slippery maggot covered hide-bundles weighing 50 pounds into the hold where we’d take them off the pallets and carefully stack them along the walls of the hold. A day of that was usually enough to satisfy the needs of anyone who wanted to be covered with rotten blood and maggots.

The gallows humor among the hide gangs was that it’s good for your skin. The maggots eat away any dead tissue and leave your whole body soft as a baby’s butt.

A Sensitive Cop?

Old Jules, can a sensitive person be a police officer? and who would have better luck as a police officer, a people person, or a tough guy? since the job is to serve (people person) and protect (tough guy).

Can’t be done. Nor an honest person. You need to be a person who wants the power to swagger a gun, the ambition to confiscate a lot of cash and product without putting much of it into evidence, and write tickets to people for burned out license tag lights.

Jewish Holocaust vs. Native American Holocaust?

Old Jules, why is the Jewish holocaust taken so seriously over all of the Native Americans that have been slaughtered?

Nobody knows how many Native Americans were killed, any more than anyone knows how many Saxons died when the Normans overran Great Britain, how many Gauls died when the Romans overran them.

That’s the difference. People have been migrating, taking land away from the occupants and frequently killing and enslaving the prior owners since human beings became humans. That happened to Native Americans when Europeans overran them, and it happened to Native Americans by other Native Americans before that ad infinitum.

You might as easily wring your hands about the folks who occupied the valley of Mexico before the Aztecs arrived and took it from them, probably ripping their living hearts from their chests as sacrifices to their gods.

Worried About Grades?

Old Jules, am I screwed for life?
I’m a sophomore and im in the slower geometry and chemistry class. But I had good grades last year. am I ****** with getting into a good college/getting a good job?

Relax. Although it all happened half-century ago I flunked out of high school algebra and geometry. Chemistry also. And I’ve got more degrees than you can count on one hand, even if you have more fingers and thumbs than is considered tasteful.

Do the best you can, but relax and enjoy whatever’s enjoyable to you.

Reversing What You Knew?

Old Jules, how frequently and how many times have your ‘knowings’ reversed themselves?

I recall knowing everything just about every moment of my life. I voted for Goldwater in ’64 because I ‘knew’ he’d get us out of Vietnam. I knew for several years LBJ would go down in history as one of our greatest presidents because of the ‘Great Society’ despite Vietnam. Took several years to see that one mature and implode.
Nixon was an easy choice because he swore he’d get us out of Vietnam and I knew he would. And so on until I got a bellyfull of knowings and quit voting out of total disgust with my knowings.
And that’s just politics. I’ve known a lot of other things, too. They seem to lose themselves in the dust in five-to-ten year cycles of retrospective horror at my own stupidity.

Knowing Reality?

Old Jules, everyone perceives the world differently, then will reality ever truly be known?

Evangelism about reality doesn’t carry any validity. Individuals aren’t going to abandon their own perceptions of reality if a vote’s taken among human beings and it’s decided the majority percieves it in a way different from any given individual.

‘Knowing’ reality, for that reason, is inside the heads of individuals as opposed to a community effort.

Responsible for Your Actions?

Old Jules, how responsible for your own actions are you? Do you care?

I’m 100% responsible for my own actions and choices. Do I care? Care about what? I’m not walking as an image. I’m barely noticed by anyone. I portray whatever image to others they wish me to portray. Judging from the snide remarks of strangers, to many the image I portray must have something to do with Wild Bill Hickok or George Armstrong Custer. People get their ideas from television, I suppose.  I don’t put much thought into what other people choose to see when they view the world.