Found, on page 16 of a 27-page public document

Short statements to the press do not (and, in many instances, cannot) address the carefully-reasoned finer distinctions in a complex situation. The NYT was succinct in its explanation, but everyone who can click to this blawwg is capable of digesting the contents of the source material, rather than leave it to others to interpret for us.

Here is one of many worthy nuggets, (typos intact):

            “Sections 66.0506, 118.245, 111.70(1)(f), 111.70 (3g), 111.70 (4) (mb) and 111.70 (4)(d)3 single out and encumber the rights of those employees who choose union membership and representation  solely because of that association and therefore infringe upon the rights of free speech and association guaranteed by both the Wisconsin and the United States Constitutions.

           These are fundamental rights and the infringement having been shown, the burden shifts to the defendants to establish that the harm done to the constitutional right is outweighed by the evil it seeks to prevent. Because defendants contend there is no infringement of the rights of speech and association, they offer no evidence of the evil the government seeks to prevent by the infringing provisions. Without any evidence or argument that the infringement serves to prevent an evil in the operation of the bargaining system created by the statutes, the court must find the infringement to be excessive and to violate the constitutional rights of free speech and association.”

BTW, this is not the author of the document:

…nor does this image accurately represent the writer:

Sorry, I have to leaven. I will, however, warn those who share the Proofreading Disease with moi that there are causes to cringe (pp. 2 & 17, for instances).

W. o’ W.: James Luckett

“I quit every other day and the other days I don’t even bother. I should’ve been a poet or a painter, or even smarter, taken those automotive repair classes in high school or got a good job at the shipyard like everyone else. Maybe I should’ve went to a vocational cooking school, or better pestered my mother into buying me an electric guitar when I was twelve so I could’ve run away at fifteen to a southern California suburb to star in an angry punk rock band. Instead what I’ve got are cameras, film, a darkroom I can’t afford, chemicals and paper. Yet even with these riches I scarcely manage to fit any one thing worth your whiles to the confines of the material, never mind the unending erosion, for better or worse, of my very own wiles. It’s a feeble medium and it’s not keen to forgive. On my best days I think to tell the world important things, but let’s be honest, I cannot. It doesn’t work that way. It’s the cameras that do the telling and the most they ever tell me is what I’m in need of knowing. I scratch out the bits and pieces I remember and do what I can to smuggle them out to you. I try my best. I try to guess where you’ll be. I try to pronounce the languages you might speak. I try to carry on the mannerisms that might make your mind. I don’t know. The cameras don’t care what they do. The cameras don’t need to be used. There are long lonely days when I think the cameras are just fine by themselves as if maybe I should’ve been somebody else. Like what I should’ve been is a clerk, a conductor, an electrician. Some kind of catalyst. Pure and invisible.”


My LF Wish List

1. A larger dark cloth (have you seen me fight with mine?).

2. A slightly taller stepstool (this is not a joke).

3. An assistant! Brilliant!

4. A documentary videographer (not so essential).