sweasel.com

Meh. Another lame entry. I’ve had a lot of rush work, and I can’t seem to get the rhythm of it down this week.

Somebody lost a bet, I’d guess. I can’t think of any other reason to put something like that up.

Would you be more or less offended if the punchline had been “A dead weasel in a wagon”?

It’s very interesting to me how the closer you are to a subject, the more offended you are when it is held up for ridicule.

Ace wrote a post about a social gathering/dance for Learning Disabled teens, ohhhh, I guess it was about a year and a half ago (too lazy to look it up and link) and I was offended by it. I have no problem being called a moron blogger or ‘tard in a flame war or some such thing, but making fun of actual L.D. kids really pushed my buttons. Pupster boy 1 has autism and was relegated to the L.D. class in the local school system before we started home-schooling.

I didn’t call Channel 6 news, hold a protest, make demands for a retraction, or get hysterical in the comments, I just registered my opinion that I thought he was out of line. And then I got over it.

Sort of on topic…I’m re-reading the Harry Potter books, and in the first book Hagrid serves Harry a “Stoat Sandwich”. Thanks to S. Weasel, I now understand what kind of sandwich that is, and I am offended.

I often think that, Pupster. Like, when you have a death in the family, you suddenly notice how many joking heart attack and cancer references fall into everyday speech. Just about everything in the realm of funny is going to hit too close to home to somebody sometime.

Years ago, the films “Front Page” and “Harry and Tonto” were released the same week. The first was PG, the second was R and I saw them both. “Front Page” was full of adult language, “Harry and Tonto” had only a few bad words thrown in, but it got the more adult rating. It’s because the former used “shit!” as an exclamation without real meaning and in the latter, “shit” meant “defecate”.

What I’m saying is, however much it may not make sense on the face of it, we draw a distinction between words and ideas used abstractly, and used specifically. The latter are much more powerful. It covers your distinction between mocking ideas only lightly tethered to real meanings, and specific, flesh and blood kids with specific problems.

But that sign? That’s just wrong 🙂

Oh, and all patriotic, upright people abhor the stoat sammich.

Fagopyrum sagittatum Gilib.

Uhh..you write purdy good for a weasel. 😉

McGoo! Buckwheat? Is that an SNL reference for horticultural experts, or what?

The only thing wrong with a stoat sandwich is the disgusting taste.

Give me a couple of juicy fox cubs, any day.

Mind you, badgers eat anything.

Naaa. I just wanted to see how many folks I could make look it up, since I have nothing worthwhile to contribute vis-a-vis games or stoat sammiches.

I’ll be real quiet now.

It worked! I went flying onto Google.

You should’ve kept mum. I’d’ve spent days mulling over the deep philosophical import of “buckwheat.” Like “eskimo.”

Buckwheat is dead. Long live buckwheat.

Yep, I googled it too. I just couldn’t think of a witty rejoinder to ‘buckwheat’. Still can’t.

I’m going to start using ‘BUCKWHEAT’ as an expletive. Try it…its fun!

Oh, god. What have I gone and done?!

Weasel, I wanted to be quiet and let folks puzzle about the complete non-meaning and non-relevance of it. But I can’t keep my damned fingers off this keyboard. Its an addiction, like coming to your site.

Hey….buckwheat IS a good expletive! Buckwheat!

It rolls off the tongue quite nicely. Short. Succinct.

Cool, Pupster. I wonder if we can work it into common usage?

BTW: Pup’ — No rejoinder? All you needed to say was that you were stymied.

Bu-dum, pah.

Hmm, the expletive I hear around here most often is “Alfalfa!”

Usually before I have had a chance to do something about my “pillow-head” in the morning.

As to the graceless humor shown by the sign, I thought it friggin’ hilarious! Mind you, I’ve spent a lifetime teachingrehab, and so have little patience anymore to coddle: and recognize that there is a HUGE difference between coddling and supporting. But I had an epiphany of sorts thirty some years ago when one of my favorite patients said to me “I just realized that I’m never going to walk again.”

No Nancy, you aren’t. Why do you think I have been training you to do the things I have for the last six months?

(And a side note to Weasel: You’re right, my rendering problem seems to be confined to the minimal Mozilla engine I’m using at the moment.)

Oh, and as far as stoat sammiches go, could I get that on rye?

My dad’s hip replacement didn’t “take” — it got infected, they removed it until he could heal up. After which — six months later — he’d have to go into some kind of major traction to stretch it back before they could give him another artificial hip. He said, “fuck you very much” to that, so he’s got a truncated leg that’s just hanging on by some cartilege. He can hobble around okay, but he’s a definite gimp. He insists on calling himself a cripple. He’d probably find the sign hilarious.

He also seems to think his handicap sticker is a license to leave is car any damn where he likes. Usually athwart the front door of whatever establishment he’s visiting.

My mom taught special ed for years. She said you could tell right away which teachers were going to bomb out after a few weeks: the super empathetic ones. You have to have a little flinty spot to be able to bear it.

Oh, and there’s a clickable header fer you, EW1(SG). Don’t know why I didn’t do it before…

He also seems to think his handicap sticker is a license to leave is car any damn where he likes. Usually athwart the front door of whatever establishment he’s visiting.

My mom taught special ed for years. She said you could tell right away which teachers were going to bomb out after a few weeks: the super empathetic ones. You have to have a little flinty spot to be able to bear it.

I think your dad ‘n I would prolly get along fine. I dated a lovely gal in SoCal years ago who lost a leg to cancer. We din’t always agree on what was funny: CA DMV wanted her to “prove” that she was handicapped, I suggested she call and ask them when her leg was going to grow back. We (she) was invited to a party given by a local artist, who complained she’d forgotten to dress because she’d left a leg at home…which she thought hilarious.

And your mum is right, there has to be just enough flint to make sure your charge can learn new limits (or at least push the boundaries like your da’). Otherwise, you’re not doing them a bit of good.

(And thanks for the header! Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t do it before because nobody else was header impaired like I am?)