Bang for buck
Bill points to this enraging post, which features this enraging graphic:
And just to cap it off, think for a minute of how much more we’re getting for our money with gasoline. As Mark says:
And the quality of gasoline has stayed the same over the last 20 years, which is not necessarily the case with public schools. In fact, the graphs below show that increases in spending have either no effect on test scores (top graph below, taken from the report), or a negative effect on test scores (bottom chart below).
Well, I suppose there can only be one possible answer to this conundrum, especially from the HopeyChangitudinalcalifragilisticexpialidocious side of the aisle: MORE OF THE SAME, STAT!
Update! What you get for your money: a Nation of Pussies:
A playground pastime is getting a timeout this spring at a McLean elementary school.
Robyn Hooker, principal of Kent Gardens Elementary School, has told students they may no longer play tag during recess after determining that the game of chasing, dodging and yelling “You’re it!” had gotten out of hand. Hooker explained to parents in a letter this month that tag had become a game “of intense aggression.”
The principal said that her goal is to keep students safe and that she hopes to restore tag (as well as touch football, also now on hold) after teachers and administrators review recess policies.
The decision has touched off a debate among parents. Some call the restriction an example of overzealous rulemaking that fails to address root problems and undermines children’s development; others say it’s best to err on the side of caution.
Gerri Swarm, secretary of the school’s Parent-Teacher Association, said she was glad the principal was taking seriously student concerns about being pushed or shoved. “In this day and age, you can’t dismiss this as something not to worry about,” she said.
Oh, no, of course not. EVERYthing is something to worry about nowadays, thanks to overreaching lawyers, overemotional activists, overreacting bureaucrats, and their bedwetting enablers. Michelle calls it “your reason number 99,995,432 to homeschool.” I’d say that’s just what it is.
Update! Bill says:
That’s us, a Nation of Worry. Which sucks. We’re “worried” about the economy, about terrorism, about health, about the future, about the past, about racism, sexism, and ismism.
We never get mad. We never get even. We never get outraged. We never get off our rationally ignorant, moronic, passive-aggressive asses and do anything.
We aren’t even a nation of pussies, not really.
Well, not all of us, I guess. I still know plenty of hardy souls out there who ask nothing from anyone except to be let alone to live their lives and to define prosperity and happiness as they may choose — most of them seem to be either bikers, old-school country boys, soldiers, or former soldiers, or some mix of all of ‘em, for what that’s worth — which to me is what this country’s supposed to be all about. I’m sure Bill does too, even in SF. The real question, it seems to me, would be: where’s the tipping point, and how close to it are we?
- Entries
We live in a nation that likes GWB's Great Giveaways. We live in a nation that eschews conflict (horrors, conflict!), as if partisanship, clear values, and self-confidence is somehow evil. We dose our boys with drugs from an early age to keep them from acting like boys, we feminize every damned thing we possibly can, we swill down stupidity like multi-cultural relativity, and the only thing that never, ever stops growing is the size, power, cost, and reach of our government - and its deep corruption.
I want to stay hopeful that the American soul still exists somewhere, buried beneath the flab of Consumerism Uber Alles and Compassionate Bullshit, just waiting to be re-energized, but frankly, there are times I despair.
I have tried for years to sound both the warnings and the call to arms, but apparently I'm neither compassionate nor compromising enough. I'll keep at it, but frankly, looking at the political contest coming up, I don't see anything that looks like a winner for America. Just a choice between a big platter of shit sandwiches, or an even bigger pile of the primary source of the stuffing for those sandwiches.