The Sun Times Remains a Sad Joke

“ Men in sport coats mulled about and women clutching designer navigated the second floor .  .   . “ Tom Schuba Chicago Sun Times (print edition) sentence one of paragraph one to Pot Goes Mainstream

" Men clad in sport coats mulled about and women clutching designer purses navigated the second floor of a Loop hotel hosting a major investment conference."  Tom Schuba edited after paper had gone to print. 

The Chicago Sun Times was once a local newspaper; today it is pamphlet put out by alleged labor lovers and actual Leftists.  Lynn Sweet is doing the black bag work for Mrs. Obama and DNC, Neil Steinberg has still not completed reading Dante's Divine Comedy, but mentions that he is reading it, Mary Mitchell continues to draw a salary and a pasty goof named Gene Lyons make the afore mentioned threesome seem to write like Dorothy Parker, Ted Dreiser and Audre Lorde.  The Sun Times is a pamphlet and a bad one at that.

One pamphleteer for this organ is the above cited Tom Schuba - any relation to the folks who own that fine and hip saloon on the northwest side? Schuba laced up his spikes for another Sun Times fellation  of Governor Pritzker's Weed Empire

Out of the blocks, Schuba sprints into a hurdle - words mean something.

Men is sport coats might very well mull about somewhere and at some time and in some place, but not in this instance.

mull
/məl/

verb
think about (a fact, proposal, or request) deeply and at length.
"she began to mull over the various possibilities"
synonyms: ponder, consider, think over/about, reflect on, contemplate, deliberate, turn over in one's mind, chew over, weigh up, consider the pros and cons of, cogitate on, meditate on, muse on, ruminate over/on, brood on, have one's mind on, give some thought to, evaluate, examine, study, review, revolve; More

or to have been warmed, if liquid men, with spices and sugars added.

Lynn Sweetner, mayhaps?

I believe Master Schuba meant top say "Men in sports coats milled about . . .  the second floor of a Loop hotel hosting a major investment conference."  Millining about suggests an accurate apprehension of what was going down on the 2nd floor lobby.

Thus! mill around. — phrasal verb with mill verb [ T ] uk ​ /mɪl/ us ​ /mɪl/ (UK also mill about) If a group of people mill around, they move around with no particular purpose or in no particular direction, sometimes while waiting for someone: In the square, people were milling around in the sunshine.

Now, as to Master Schuba's missing noun ( purses - designered and clutched) we will leave that to the universally poor editing of the hardest working propaganda organ this side of NEWSPEAK.

That Tom Schuba screwed the pooch at paragraph one is clear to a reader of the print edition --the one that comes out after newsmen scream, 'Stop the Presses!' when a pooch is having been proved screwed.  Proper screwed.

That Tom Schuba would countenance the fact that he did, in fact, have his wicked way with this puppy ain't gonna happen.

Pravda never printed a disclaimer and the Chicago Sun Times will consider no such thing.

Animal Farm requires no inquiry, no memory and no conviction.

Mull that one over. 

I.C.E. ! Wolf! Hysterics of the Media and Real People

Dick Durbin goes Matlock in solidarity with people who will not be swept up by I.C.E.

I live in the real world.  I work in the real world.  I work at a huge Bakery/Packaging factory in Alsip, IL.

So & So Snacks makes cookies, pretzels and wildly over priced gluten free crackers for affluent, mildly educated white people.

In my time with this company, I have made the gluten free 100% cheese crackers and now package and pallet them for shipping.

I an one of three non-minority majority ( African American, Latino, or Mexican) workers among the more than 100 in Gluten Free ( aka 'Nasty Crackers") production and shipping.  The vast majority of workers are Mexicans and most likely immigrant - I have no idea, much less care about their legal status - Mexicans are the greatest workers. 

By greatest I mean this.

• They struggled to get to this country by the most perilous path and many lost loved ones in the process
• Mexicans sing while doing the most dull, onerous, difficult and messy tasks
• They use break-time to help out their 'neighbors' on other lines - pretzel and cookie dough workers help the cracker stackers
• Mexicans do the work sniffed at by black and white Americans as 'too degrading' until the native born get shamed into picking up their end of the tasks
• They never drink, smoke dope, or snort cocaine during working hours
• Mexicans stay until every aspect of the job is completed and the work stations are properly cleaned for the sanitation crews to come along and prepare for the next shift
• They sing and laugh - Americans piss and moan

These past weeks the American media ( papers, cable, TV and radio) shrieked about Immigration ( I.C.E.) raids, not unlike those black and white images from Steven Spielberg's Schindler's List -colorized of course, blared from every outlet and useless idiots like Senator Dick Durbin

moued before the cameras wearing Matlock Suits, while hair-gel'd dimwits like David Muir warned that jack-booted Trumpian thugs were coming for brown residents - ON SUNDAY!!!!!

I went to Mass on Sunday and our altar boys and their parents were on hand.  Pout of curiosity, I took a swing by the Cracker Factory and Mexicans showed up for over time work, as well as the Blue Hair-netted Line Bosses ( Mostly African American).  

I was off work today, as I needed to repair an Apple I-Pad that I will need when I begin teaching in three weeks.  Before, I drove to Jet CO Device Repair on North Wells, I popped over to work - there were Lette from Durango, El Padrone from Mexico City, Jospehina from Durango, Emma, the opera singer, from Vera Cruz, Matin from Toluca, Martina from Sonora and the balance of the gang.

I was greeted with, " Oye abuelo ¿Dónde está tu ropa de trabajo? ¿Vas a ir a Indiana de nuevo?

In my best Spanglish I replied, "¡No, bebés! Quería ver si Trump te atrapó a ti y a los niños."

They laughed and waved me off on my way. 

Our news media will turn this country into a fascist state before too long.  

It operates on fear and hysteria and depends upon un-inquiring minds and nodding caitiffs to fulfill its mission to make America an oligarchy. 

Americans are most certainly the least inquiring of minds. 

Let us pray they retain some courage of genuine conviction. 

Shrimp Cocktails and The Colonies of Liberty!

Happy Fourth of July!

I spent the day fishing the Kankakee River at Custer Park along Route 113 and had only two lackluster tugs by a denizen of the deep, or cresting waters.

My boon chum and I gave up the lures and headed back to Cook County before the next phalanx of storm clouds pelted us with hail and silver dollar sized droplets.

We had a great time cast-drifting for small mouth and snagging driftwood. The piscean Illini of the mighty Kankakee remain unhooked and free!

We stopped at the Rocketship in Wilmington for a celebratory pot roast sandwich.  I had a GreenRiver and my pal a cold Dad's Old Fashioned Root Beer,

Our table talk centered on foods, dining, America's Youth, our shrinking cultural contexts due to my allusion to young African Lad with whom I labor at J & J Snacks ( formerly Labriola Bakery) in Alsip, Illinois.   I explained.

I work on the packaging and shipping line for the Parm Crisp Division of this worthy firm.   I had worked making Parm Crisps - a gluten free lure for white people with more money than taste.  These 'sophisticated' snacks come in three ounce packages and sell for a husky $ 4.95 at most marts.

Here is the recipe:

• Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.
• Pour a heaping tablespoon of Parmesan onto a silicone or parchment lined baking sheet and lightly pat down. A silicone baking sheet is highly recommended. ...
• Bake for 3 to 5 minutes or until golden and crisp. Cool.

J & J Snacks uses only 40 pound wheels of delicious Belgiosio Parmesan and quarters, chops shreds and particles the dairy delicacy into a  very fine dust and bakes accordingly.

The product reminds me of particle-board - De Gustibus Non Est Disputandem.

Tony Marxist Oak Parkers flock to Whole Foods and other outlets and lay down a fin per package - that's $5 for twelve crisps weighing in at 3 ounces.

Go figure.

A month ago, I requested transfer to shipping and packaging where I am delighted to work with African American working women and gents and a legion of Mexican immigrant Americans.  These people humble me.  They work long hours for an average of $11 per hour and never fall out and always over compensate for inferior equipment and understaffed crews with hard labor, grit and great good humor.

I package between 600-900 boxes ( 7-9 pallets) per shift, Our labeling machine has a faulty closing arm and now have an 18 year old Temp named T working with me.

He is a baby face with a very sweet nature - guileless and respectful of women and  his aged white co-worker and shipping mentor.

He tasted our product and concurred with my judgment that you will never go broke underestimating rich white people. " Cracker's nasty!"  he exclaimed.

This cracker cab be nasty, but I am generally sweet natured.

Our bonding took a turn toward tastes in food.  I told him that any great dinner out should include and appetizer of shrimp cocktail.  T had never heard of this hors d'oeuvre.

I began, " This seafood specialty originated in Great Britain and consists of cooked chilled prawns      ( large shrimp) arranged and dolloped with a sauce consisting of catsup, mayonnaise and Tabasco - in Old Blighty and Ketchup and horseradish here in the Land of the Free and Home of the Brave - served in a chilled martini glass on both sides of the pond.:

" Pond, Old School?"

'The Pond refers to the Atlantic Ocean, Young Folks."

These days young Americans have a very diminished capacity for confronting cultural contexts.  T had never heard of Sarah Vaughan, Joe Williams, or Miles Davis, let alone understood my reference to a co-worker taking a Steve Brody off of the railroad bridge crossing the Cal Sag.

America should be big enough to school our young 'uns in matters of taste.

Our elites eat gluten free 'nasty crackers' that cost $ 5 a dozen.  Eighteen year old African American Lads who work 40 hours a week for $11 should be directed to enjoy a shrimp cocktail, for the love God, His Holy Mother and All the Saints.

Our Founding Fathers would concur. I think.