More Jackson County Opinions...

DECEMBER 10, 2003


Column

By:Virgil Adams
The Jackson Herald
December 10, 2003

Letters making words obsolete
This is the age of political correctness. You can’t say words like...
Oh, oh, I almost forgot. These days you’ve got to use the first letter of the word. If I just say a, b, c, h, n, f and s, you know exactly what I mean.
Oh, you know about n, f and s but don’t have a clue about a, b, c and h. Where have you been? I thought everybody knew that a, b, c and h are the first letters of ugly words that you can’t say or write.
You better get with the program. Before long, every letter of the alphabet will stand for something nasty. The day is coming when our oral and written communications will consist entirely of letters, not words. Sentences and paragraphs will be as out of date as t.
T stands for truth, but truth is embarrassed that it is playing second fiddle to l. If you aren’t familiar with the l-word, you haven’t been listening to any politicians lately.
How did we get in this m? You are asking for trouble when you say the word “mess.”
Psychiatrists, psychologist, preachers, teachers, social workers, historians, economists, captains of industry, sanitation engineers, Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity, Neal Boortz and stupid newspaper columnist have been trying to figure it out.
Here’s this stupid newspaper columnist’s take on all of this s. (Stuff is a borderline nasty word. I predict it will become a full-fledged member in 2004.)
If my mama — and the mamas of all you other senior citizens out there — were still alive, we wouldn’t be bothered with all this s. Back in the 1930s, when I was a mere lad, my mama would zap the h out of me if I even thought about saying s. Come to think about it, if she were still alive, she would zap the h out of me for writing this way. (You are tired of the s-word, right? Me, too.)
A lot of “experts” who are trying to figure out how we got in this odoriferous, stinking, chaotic fiasco are blaming everything and everybody except the real culprit. Rappers, hip hop artists, sitcom performers, R- and X-rated movie stars, reality TV idiots, talk radio hosts, and trash- talking athletes are the results, not the causes, of the rude, crude, gross and socially unacceptable behavior that is loose in the land.
Those of us who are politically correct and continue to use the letters (n, f and s, for example) instead of the words are fast becoming the minority. The rappers and the rest of that weird bunch couldn’t care less about political correctness. And more and more kids — even middle school students — are joining them. They are using the entire, whole, complete dirty word, not just the first letter.
One thing I don’t understand: When rappers, movie and TV stars and professional athletes use bad words, nobody takes them to task. But let a college professor, minister or some other respected person slip up and say the n, f or s word and all h breaks loose. Why is that?
But I digress.
I am supposed to be telling you how our society, culture, manners and civility sank to such a low level. I can tell you now that it is going to take more than one week. So stay tuned.
I can also tell you that the root cause of our present dilemma is the second Industrial Revolution. If the truth were known, the first Industrial Revolution may have started it. I’m betting a lot of you have forgotten everything you ever learned about that awesome, historical event. Therefore, I will spend the rest of this epistle reviewing I.R.I and setting the stage for I.R.II.
I may be the first to recognize that there was a second Industrial Revolution. Be that as it may, this event that happened some 60 years ago led to the creation of a lot of dirty words, and ultimately to political correctness whereby we have to use first letters to communicate. (Ain’t that a crock of b?)
The first I.R. began to take shape in the 1700s and early 1800s. Great changes took place in the lives and work of people in several parts of the world. These changes resulted from the development of industrialization.
The movement started in Great Britain and then spread to other parts of Europe and North America. By the mid-1800s, industrialization had become widespread in Western Europe as well as the northeastern United States.
The Industrial Revolution created an enormous increase in the production of many kinds of goods. It all came about because of power-driven machinery and factory organization.
Before, manufacturing was done by hand on simple machines. Most people lived in rural areas and worked at home. The first Industrial Revolution took manufacturing out of the home and workshop.
The second Industrial Revolution did much, much more. It eventually caused dirty people to saturate their songs and language with dirty words, and made it so nice people have to use first letters only or face unpleasant consequences.
Life ain’t fair, but that’s life. Stay tuned for more of this stuff next week. I’m going to say stuff until it becomes politically incorrect to do so. Then we’ll do Christmas. Be forewarned: there are groups and individuals pushing us to abandon Christmas and go with the c-crowd.
Virgil Adams is the former owner-editor of The Jackson Herald.

Jackson County Opinion Index

Column

By: Adam Fouche
The Jackson Herald
December 10, 2003

The problem with treble hooks and fishing lures
I don’t quite understand fishing lures. Never have. Never will.
I bet I’ve seen thousands of them during my fishing career. I’ll often browse the fishing section in any store that has one.
They come in all shapes and sizes. Some of them look natural, like shad or crawfish. Some of them are neon or glittery, meant more for a reaction bite than anything. And some make noise or churn the water, again trying to inspire a reaction from fish.
But all of them have one thing in common, whether they have one treble hook or two or three or even four. A lure will hook almost everything — clothes, boat seats, other rods, even each other. But you stick one in a fish’s mouth and unless you’re lucky, that fish will spit it out everytime.
I bet I’ve opened my tackle box a million times only to find that somehow every lure in there has managed to jump out of its designated space and congregate with the other lures. And they are all hooked together into one giant mass of fishing lures that you can’t touch without sticking yourself a half-dozen times.
Most of the time, a plastic work will have also made its way into the congregation, trying its best to melt the plastic on the lures.
So you struggle for half an hour trying to unhook that one lure that you’ve never caught anything with, though the “experts” swear it’s the one to use on partly-cloudy days with 71-degree, lightly-stained water in secondary coves less than eight hours before a fall cold front approaches.
You get it unhooked and tie it on. Cast it 20 times or so. One bass will hit it. And you’ll get it half-way to the boat before it jumps up to wink at you as it spits out your lure with three, oversized barbed treble hooks.
Frustrated, you’ll lay the rod down and pick up your work rod, only to find that the lure that couldn’t stay in the fish’s mouth has latched onto the line of your other rod.
So you’ll prick yourself another half-dozen times trying to get the two rods untangled. And once you fish out the cove with your pumpkin seed worm, you’ll head up the lake to another cove.
By this time, you notice that your crankbait has safely grabbed hold of the carpeting in the bottom of your bass boat, promising not to let go despite any attempts you make to free it.
And so you’ll crank up the motor and head up the lake. Midway through the journey, the wind will magically dislodged the lure from the carpeting and it will fly up at you and grab hold of your pants leg. You’ll struggle to get that front treble hook loose. The force of your pulling will cause you to brush the back treble hook against your pants where it sticks again.
A half-hour and half-dozen thumb stabs later, you’ll get it loose. Like an idiot, you’ll just drop the crankbait where you’re standing, frustrated with it by that point.
Of course, it’ll land on the boat seat and dig its barbs into the vinyl. Trying to get it free from there only tears a hold the size of a dime in your seat.
And so frustrated for the final time, you untie the lure and place neatly inside an individual compartment in your tacklebox, knowing that next time you open that thing up the lure will have reached its hooks over the top of the compartment and grabbed hold of another lure’s hooks.
How it happens, I’ll never know. But one thing’s for sure. If I could catch as many fish with a crankbait as I have fingers, other lures, carpet, clothes, seats, family members and overhanging tree limbs, I’d compete for money and surely win.
Adam Fouche is a reporter for MainStreet Newspapers. His email address is fouche@nbank.net.


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