On March 22, concerned residents met with city officials after the Loudoun House in Castlewood Park suffered several thefts. In a five-week period, the Loudoun House had, among other things, its copper downspouts and air conditioning unit stolen.
Chris Cooperrider of LFUCG Parks and Recreation said that it was the third time the HVAC units at the Loudoun House had been targeted in the last 14-16 months. Cooperrider emphasized that, in talking to the police department, he was assured that this type of crime is perpetrated by “low-level” criminals, who tend to pose little safety threat.
A Creatives for Common Sense position paper
The re-legalization of horse slaughter houses within the United States presents a wonderful regional opportunity for public/private partnerships. Fayette Urban County should capitalize on its brand image as the horse capital of the world and create a new publicly elected office, the Fayette Urban County Knacker (FUCK), to manage the slaughter of the region’s horses. Not only will this provide local oversight in dealing with the very real problem of abandoned, sick, and/or dying horses (a potential brand killer), but if handled correctly, a knacker could also unlock an entirely untapped commercial market—the post-mortem market—with great potential to provide new revenue streams for a struggling equine industry.
With this in mind, Creatives for Common Sense calls upon the city and its leaders to create a position of Fayette Urban County Knacker. The ideal FUCK candidate should be proficient in, or willing to learn, a zesty variety of techniques, dispositions and orientations. These include skills related to:
By Marcus Flores
Of the 14,000 public school districts in the United States, only one has made national headlines for having provided chicken nuggets as the healthful alternative to turkey and cheese on wheat: North Carolina’s Hoke County Schools. The Carolina Journal reported on February 14, 2012 that an anonymous “state agent” (who, despite the school system’s best efforts, could not then be located) made a four-year-old girl purchase chicken nuggets to accompany her home-packed lunch.
Elkhorn to Lockport, part 2
By Danny Mayer
“Thank you for showing me Gest today, the two lock houses facing Cedar Creek those bureaucrats will soon raze.”
My breath flashes vapor at each line. Nearing late-afternoon on the Kentucky River, the sun has only recently asserted itself in the sky, somewhere near Stevens Branch on pool 3, four river miles past. This would have been before the portage at Gest, Lock 3 across from Monterey, and before the exploratory amble up the hill to see the two Gest lock houses in decay, the result of a strategic decision by the state and its people to abandon upkeep of grounds and water. Before the ham and cheese on bread, before the piss breaks, before reloading and shoving off, one-by-one from the remnant pad below the lower lock gates, to ferry back into the main-stream (eddying overnight at Severn Creek) on our way to Lockport.
Say, three hours ago.
Human trafficking in Kentucky
By Beth Connors-Manke
On March 23-24, Georgetown College held what was billed as “the first state-wide conference on human trafficking.” I attended.
Human trafficking comes in two stripes: sex and labor. Legally, the crime is defined as “sex trafficking in which a commercial sex act is induced by force, fraud, or coercion, or in which the person induced to perform such act has not attained 18 years of age” or “the recruitment, harboring, transportation, provision, or obtaining of a person for labor or services through the use of force, fraud, or coercion for the purpose of subjection to involuntary servitude, peonage, debt bondage, or slavery.”
Southland Christian Center’s shopping mall odyssey
By Andrew Battista
When I read the New Testament, I always pay attention to the questions people ask Jesus. For example, there is a famous conversation in which a Torah scholar asks Jesus what one must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus tells him, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” a core tenant of the Jewish Law. The scholar asks in return, “Who is my neighbor?” This question obviously has a layered meaning. The scholar isn’t asking who literally lives next to him; rather, he is trying to find out how far the ethic of justice suggested by the Law should extend. The story Jesus tells to answer this question, known as the Parable of the Good Samaritan, seems to imply an infinite hospitality. Everyone is our neighbor, even our most despised social enemies. There are no limits to the deference and love we should show to others, whether or not their property is adjacent to us.