Reading about Uncle Ken's battle with his condo board brought this slogan to my mind. I'm pretty sure that I didn't make it up, I must have seen it on a tee shirt or something. Wanting to give credit where credit is due, I just googled it. (Aren't you proud of me?) Come to find out, it's the name of a radical teenage delinquent commie rock band that has been around, off and on, since 1991. Nevertheless, I still think it's a cool slogan and an apt title for this post.
I usually wouldn't be interested in a controversy about Christmas lights on a tall building in a big city, but it's obviously important to Uncle Ken, and he's a friend of mine, so now I'm interested. My previous advice about taking legal action may have been premature, but I still think that it wouldn't hurt Uncle Ken to search the contract for loopholes just so he knows what he has to work with. There also may be a constitution and by-laws under which the board is supposed to operate. Uncle Ken seems to be still trying to work with the board, which is probably the right thing to do, at least for now. My impression is that they are just giving him the old run around but, being closer to the problem, he would be a better judge of that than I am. If, at some point, he deems it necessary to take a more adversarial stance, I would be happy to give him a few pointers. I have been in a few scraps with the Machine myself, you know.
Meanwhile, back at the border: The Boarder Patrol people in El Paso, Texas broke the record the other day for the largest single group of illegals intercepted at one time, something like 1030. Their total for the whole day was about twice that, and it's a rare day anymore that they don't process at least a thousand. President Trump seems to have abandoned his post, last I heard he was taking tea with the Queen of England. The image of Nero fiddling while Rome burned comes to mind.
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