ugputu

________

Truth be told, I am not certain whether the title of this piece is irony or a call for thinking.  As I age (some folks refer to it as entering senescence) I have developed what is increasingly appearing to be a pretty out of control skepticism.  

This started with the transformation of the evening news a long time ago.  I had the good fortune to live in the time of Murrow and Cronkite, who paid more than lip service to accuracy.  Trust began to decay with the advent of cable television and the absorption of the media by the entertainment arms of large corporations.  But truthfully, I didn't really think of it at the time, absorbed as I was in the day to day vagaries of food on the table and rent payments.  

Then I started to notice the death of the old magazine "Scientific American".  Now dumbed down beyond all belief, but at one time, a pretty serious magazine explaining science to the upper fifty percent of the "man on the street".  Then I watch the amazing proliferation of scientific journals and the corresponding drop off in their content.  Just so that you guys are aware, there is a big disconnect between what is published in this plethora of venues and the actual ability to reproduce the results in other labs.  

When I spent a couple of years working for various government levels and discovered there how much spin is used every day at nearly every level and just how few "civil servants" don't consider themselves "civil masters".

In a way, being old enough to be able to see/remember these trends also gives me the mental flexibility to realize that it just isn't my problem anymore.  I just have to live with the consequences.  I am not at all certain what these will be, but it appears that things won't be better for the "common man",  because what I have come to know is that the good of common man is not the goal of the politicians.  But then, even the plebs know that.  

AIN'T WE GOT FUN
Music by RICHARD A. WHITING
Lyrics by GUS KAHN & RAYMOND B. EGAN
Published 1921 by Jerome H. Remick & Co., New York and Detroit

[Verse 1.]
Bill collectors gather 'Round
and rather Haunt the cottage next door.
Men the grocer and butcher sent,
Men who call for the rent

But within a happy chappy
and his bride of only a year,
Seem to be so cheerful,
Here's an earful Of the chatter you hear.

[Chorus]
Ev'ry morning, ev'ry evening,
Ain't we got fun.
Not much money Oh but honey
Ain't we got fun.

The rent's unpaid dear,
We havn't a bus,
But smiles were made dear,
For people like us.

In the winter, in the summer,
Don't we have fun.
Times are bum and getting bummer,
Still we have fun.

There's nothing surer,
The rich get rich and the poor get children,
In the meantime, In between time,
Ain't we got fun.

[Verse 2.]
Just to make their trouble Nearly double
Something happen'd last night.
To the chimney a gray bird came,
Mister Stork was his name

And I'll bet two pins,
A pair of twins
Just happen'd in with the bird.
Still they're very gay and merry,
Just at dawning I heard;

[Chorus 2]
Ev'ry morning,Ev'ry evening,
Don't we have fun.
Twins and cares dear,Come in pairs dear,
Don't we have fun.

We've only started,
As mommer and pop,
Are we downhearted,
I'll say that we're not.

Landlords mad and getting madder,
Ain't we got fun.
Times are bad and getting badder,
Still we have fun.

There's nothing surer,
The rich get rich and the poor get laid off,
In the meantime, In between time,
Ain't we got fun.