Tag: society

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 24, 202210:04 pm

New Poster Child for the Pro-Choice Lobby

As Halloween approaches, decorations proliferate and some become quite elaborate. This caged kid in a tree had me chuckling, earlier today—for elaborate staging and opportunity for me to be snarky. Disclaimer: My sarcasm is sure to offend somebody. If that’s you, please accept my no apology.

Pro-lifers are giddy as a bear slopping honey from a fallen beehive, following the June 2022 U.S. Supreme Court ruling that overturned Roe v Wade. They aren’t too bothered by stings from swarming Pro-choicers, who are losing their minds over the 6-3 decision. Since they are absolutely crazy—uh, crazed—let’s pretend this shrieking girl is their marketing maven—warning about the horror show progeny that you could produce because you can’t legally have a doctor cut it out.

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 19, 20228:26 pm

Urban Camping

Pop-up homeless shelters are increasingly common sights around San Diego, spurred by devastating rents (e.g., many people can’t afford them) and, on Sept. 30, 2022, the end of SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19-era eviction moratoriums. Many encampments are hidden away—or, when not, part of a larger grouping; the idea being safety in numbers protects against law enforcement or outraged, eh, housed residents.

So I was surprised, on October 15, to find this publicly placed standalone habitat at Georgia and Howard in University Heights. Climb the brick wall to the right and you will come out in the Sprouts market parking lot. Public library is on the same block.

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 16, 20228:58 pm

Welcome to Hellcrest

I grit my teeth and put on my persevering personality, whenever need demands walking to neighboring Hillcrest. The atmosphere reeks of hedonism, narcissism, and self-obsession. Physically, the place is dirty, gritty, and seedy—particularly along the main University Avenue corridor and somewhat less Washington Street. The community is considered to be San Diego’s gay district, which couplings confirm and the plethora of rainbow flags or others for various gender identities; fire hydrants, too.

Here’s where someone will accuse me of being homophobic, when I am not: Well-to-do residents who whoop up happy hour and late-night fling fests grimly juxtapose a sizable homeless population. For a community of residents obsessed with all-rights for all genders, the lack of regard—or even sympathy—for people lacking more fundamental rights (life and well-being) is inhumane and, disappointingly, jives with my atmospheric assessment in the previous paragraph. What? Is it liberal values for me but not for thee?

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 9, 20229:59 pm

Thinking of Daisy

I feel sentimental about our bunnies on this solemn Sunday evening. We let them go to a new home on Sept. 30, 2007, marking many of the painful final preparations before relocating from the DC/Maryland-metro area to San Diego. The Featured Image finds Daisy enjoying one final romp around the backyard, about two-and-a-half hours before her new caretakers came for her and Mayflower. Vitals: f/4.5, ISO 100, 1/80 sec, 70mm; 5:25 p.m. EDT. Portrait is from Nikon D200, composed as shot.

We adopted the flop-ear rabbit in August 2003 from Animal Exchange in Rockville, Md. My daughter had seen bunnies at Montgomery County Fair and asked for one. We stopped at the pet store en route and ended up taking home Daisy, who was already about six months old. She ran loose in my basement office throughout the day, or around the backyard. She stayed in her cage overnight. Daisy was a joyous, constant companion while I worked.

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 6, 20227:47 pm

The Consequences of Deceit

My University Heights neighbors started putting out Halloween decorations weeks ago. From few, now many are everywhere. Along Texas Street, today, my wife and I passed by these seasonal tombstones that stand apart from the more traditional type for Dracula or infamous persons.

The theme of lying seems so appropriate for a time when truth is the one commodity truly lost in the supply chain. Pundits can’t babble enough about impending food shortages, and I share some of their concerns. But someone should state the more pressing problem: An overabundance of deceit/misinformation and lack of honesty.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 18, 20227:26 pm

The Empty

I do not drink alcoholic beverages and can count on one hand the few occasions of inebriation as a teenager, when booze experimentation started and stopped. My taste for the stuff is yuck, and I prefer being clear-headed, which was a big advantage during my working reporter days. People who have had a few too many, as they say, are carelessly chatty; loose lips reveal too much to sober ears like mine.

That said, I always felt uneasy being the only non-drinker in the room—like everyone looked at me oddly. Because when everyone else boozes and you don’t, the presumption is that you must be a recovering alcoholic. That’s how, ah, tippled is America’s cultural heritage. Sobriety is abnormal.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 15, 20229:20 pm

I Know What Grandma Would Say To This

She would start by quoting Proverbs 16:18. “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before stumbling”. Then she would more provocatively cite 1 John 2:16,17 because, well, grandma isn’t intimidated by how other people might react.

“For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life, is not from the Father, but is from the world. And the world is passing away, and also its lusts; but the one who does the will of God abides forever”.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 10, 20228:52 pm

Will the Meaning be Lost?

So-o-o, should I presume somebody’s sidewalk message is meant to be sarcastic? According to the good folks at Merriam-Webster, a factory farm is “a large industrialized farm, especially: a farm on which large numbers of livestock are raised indoors in conditions intended to maximize production at minimal cost”. Presumption: Animal cruelty—or so claims fourteen of the first fifteen results to my search query.

Let me ask then: We should eat less food as a means of not supporting factory farming? That starvation will put the entities out of business and thus diminish livestock hardship? Timing is odd, given all the warnings about food shortages.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 9, 20228:13 pm

Long Haul Trucker

I initially planned to close-crop the Featured Image but instead present it as shot. Both bikes are something of anachronisms in San Diego, where more and more riders mount motorized hybrids. Blame electric rentals or SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 lockdowns—both, likely—for dramatic behavioral shift in a short span of about two years.

The Surly is a Long Haul Trucker model that the manufacturer describes as a “long-distance cargo bike ready to go anywhere”. The single saddlebag—pannier, if you prefer—suggests somewhere. The LHT was retired last year, after 17 years of production, which makes me wonder how much the sudden surge in popularity of electric (and some gas-powered) hybrids played into the bike’s end of life.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 24, 20228:53 pm

Don’t Fall In

On June 29, 2006, a sinkhole mysteriously opened in our backyard. We lived nearly 5 kilometers—about 3 miles—outside the Washington Beltway. I wouldn’t want to be too close to the District of Columbia this weekend, in the wake of today’s momentous, or shocking (depending on your politics or values), Supreme Court decision that overturned Roe v Wade. States will now individually dictate when, if at all, abortions may be performed.

I use the Featured Image as a metaphor, so to speak, for the sinkhole into which people praising or condemning the decision will fall into. Seems like there is no solid ground under this topic; anyone and everyone opposing your position, whatever that may be, will be pushed in and buried. To some, abortion is murder. To others, it’s a right taken away.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 19, 202210:21 pm

Juneteenth is a Terrible Name

The second celebrated Federal Holiday of the oddly-named Juneteenth is nearly over as I write. Oh, remembering the less formally-designated but also wide-celebrated: Happy Father’s Day to all the dads. My fingers are crossed that you’re happy being one and that the kids share the same sentiment.

Back to the other, the name unruly rolls off the tongue, doesn’t at all tell anyone what the celebration is for, and—go ahead and argue—poorly respects what the holiday represents. Quickly: On June 19, 1865, the Union Army rode into Galveston, Texas and announced the end of black slavery. Emancipation deserves better.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMay 30, 202210:10 pm

The Shredded Republic

For this Memorial Day we present a solemn sentiment reflecting the tattered state of the Republic, which is shorn to pieces by cultural and political strife. At no time since my first eligible-to-vote Presidential election have I seen such fractious and contentious state of the electorate or the representatives in Washington, D.C.

Worst of all is my profession. The Fourth Estate has abandoned its duty to protect the public interest. Subjective reporting and editorialization define modern journalism. The Fifth Estate, which includes new media and online informational utilities (e.g., Facebook, Google, Twitter, and the like), is worse because of rampant censorship. Patronizing tactics choose for you, because presumably you’re not smart enough to sift fact from fiction. I would mind less if professional news gatherers reported responsibly more.