The Transparent Governor

As you may know, Our Despicable Governor is pushing for drug testing of welfare applicants, and for Medicaid patients to be sent to private facilities.

Facilities like those run by Solantic, a company Scott co-founded in 2001.

Of course, this is obviously a clear violation of ethics.  So Scott got rid of his shares of Solantic.  Well, kind of.

“As you know, I’ve been transparent. I was transparent in my race. I’ve put those assets in my wife’s name,” Scott said. “Everybody knows it. I’ve been very clear. I’ve said that the state will not have a contract with that company. I’ve told everybody, ‘Hold me accountable.’ ”  - Palm Beach Post, April 11 2011

That's right.  He gave them to his wife.  The woman he is married to.  His partner.  Whom he will have and hold, through richer and poorer.  But mostly richer.

Yes, in fact, he didn't really get rid of his shares at all.  They're still in the family, and he still benefits from any business he sends to them as a result of the policies he's putting in place.

Yes, Mr. Scott is transparent - we can see right through his lies.

But Mr. Scott has surrounded him with transparent cronies, who are just as dishonest as he is.  Like his spokesman, Brian Burgess.  Burgess claims that privately held stocks are hard to get rid of.

“I get that people think there’s a conflict, but I don’t get what people think should be done about it,” Burgess said. “If he can’t divest instantly, what should he do?” - Palm Beach Post, April 11, 2011

Well, how about resigning as governor?  That would work for me.  But since he probably won't do that, he should simply stop working on any policy or legislation that would drive business to his own wife's company.  That's what he should do, Brian. 

But we can see right through Scott's insistence that it's not a problem - no thanks to Scott.

Despite Scott’s reiteration that he’s been transparent about transferring the Solantic shares to his wife, it was The Post that first reported the transfer March 13 after interviews with company officials. Six requests to the governor’s office on the topic had been ignored.- Palm Beach Post, April 11, 2011

Yes, we can see right through your transparent schemes and conspiracies, Mr. Scott.  We see straight through to your larcenous little lump of a heart.  We see you lining your pockets, even if you've given them to your wife to wear

Cassandra Complex: Challenger

There's really not much point to this post.  This is just my recollection of the Challenger explosion.  It's not a pleasant recollection, and in the scheme of things, it's completely unimportant.

But this is my memory of the day, as I lived it.

I was living in Lake Worth, Florida.  I remember the TV was on, the shuttle launch was delayed again, because of the cold.  I remember I was running around getting ready for work, when they interviewed some of Christa McAuliffe's students about the upcoming launch.  The students were all disappointed that it hadn't launched yet.

I remember my snarky comment to the tube:  "You'll like it less when the damned thing explodes because they lifted off in the cold, dumb-ass."

It was two hours before the explosion.

There was about five minutes where I swear I was having a vision of the shuttle exploding.  "SHIT!  I have to call them!"  But as I realized that 1. I had no idea who to talk to about stopping the launch, and 2. who the hell would believe me and 3. I was being ridiculous, there was no way I could possible know the shuttle was going to explode.

Besides, I was going to be late for work; the experts surely wouldn't launch it if it wasn't safe; they'd already held the launch.  Of course they'd wait until it was safe.   Like anyone would listen to an assistant manager at Rent-America "rent to own" about visions of disaster.

When I got to work, all the TVs were tuned into the launch that still hadn't happened.  Still too cold.  It was my turn to run to the bank to do the deposit.  I drove down US1 to Barnett Bank (which would be my own bank until they held a cash deposit back for five days), and took care of business.  It was a gorgeous day; crystal blue sky, with not a cloud in it.  I'd only been living in Florida four months, so what's cold to me now was simply invigorating.

Finishing at the bank, I turned north onto US1, and saw a strange cloud on the horizon.  Just another sudden Florida thunderhead, I thought.  Kinda freaky, the way it's forked.

As I walked back into the store, my manager looked at me from the desk in the back.  His eyes were really, really wide.

"Did you see it?" he asked.

"See what?"

"The shuttle just blew up!"

I could not believe it.  Then the image replayed on all 58 color televisions in the store.

I remember walking up to one of the consoles, to see it larger.  At one point, I pointed to a corner of the expanding cloud and said "That's the cabin, right there.  I think they were alive, then."  The news said otherwise, but months later they found evidence that the crew had indeed survived the initial blast.

There was no way I could have known it would actually explode, but I did.

There was no way I could have known the cabin remained partially intact, but I did.

And despite the reassuring words of NASA officials, I'm certain that most of the crew didn't die until the cabin hit the ocean.  That's not at all reassuring or comforting.

Don't forget, I didn't believe me, either.

As Quoted by The POTUSA?

For years, I've been saying that newspapers firing reporters to save money is like cutting the engines off of an airplane to save weight.  Reporters are what drive newspapers. It's an example of taking desperate measures to solve a problem, but the solution only makes the problem much worse.

So imagine my shock when President Obama said the following in his State of the Union address:

Cutting the deficit by gutting our investments in innovation and education is like lightening an overloaded airplane by removing its engine. It may feel like you're flying high at first, but it won't take long before you'll feel the impact.

Did we just come to the same analogy, or has some of my commentary found its way to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue?  What do you think?