The Romney campaign is highlighting the record of the Obama administration on employment for women. The following graphs illustrate the record. Click on the graph for a larger view.

Graph showing female unemployment rate in the US 1992 to March 2012. Created by Charles Simmins from BLS data.	This graph shows the unemployment rate for women age 20 and older from January 1992 to March 2012.
Graph showing female unemployment rate in the US 1992 to March 2012. Created by Charles Simmins from BLS data.	This graph shows the unemployment rate for women age 20 and older from January 2000 to March 2012. Note the record low during the last Clinton term in 2007.
Graph showing female unemployment rate in the US 2006 to March 2012. Created by Charles Simmins from BLS data.	This graph shows the unemployment rate for women age 20 and older from January 2006 to March 2012. The graph illustrates the onset of the recession and female unemployment rates during the Obama administration.
Graph illustrating the number of unemployed women in the US from 2000 to March 2012. Graph prepared by Charles Simmins using BLS data.	Graph illustrating the number of unemployed women in the US from 2000 to March 2012. Note the record low number and compare it to the number of women unemployed in March 2012. Over three million more women are unemployed now.
Graph illustrating the number of women employed in the U.S. from 2000 through March 2012. Prepared by Charles Simmins from BLS data.	This graph illustrates the number of American women over age 20 employed from 2000 through March 2012. Note the record number employed in June 2008. The loss of employment from June 2008 to March 2012 is 759,000 women.

The increase in unemployed women coupled with a net loss of women in the work force is dramatic. Couple that with the fact that 34 percent of Americans living in poverty live in a household headed by a woman and you can see the damage that the current economy has done to women.

The unmistakable roar of a combat shuttle climbing for space woke him. That and the pounding headache caused by one last night in port.

Another roar, and he suddenly realized that he was supposed to be at the port and on a shuttle, not lying on a bed in some whorehouse.

Grabbing his clothes, he stumbled down the stairs and out the door. He’d take the gig for “out of uniform”, better than “missing a movement” which would be a very bad thing. He hailed a cab and told the cabbie to get to the port. An extra ten in it for speed.
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We called them “Gators”. They weren’t, but they kinda looked like an alligator. If one had evolved on an alien planet light years from Earth.

The planet was down towards the center of the galaxy, and it was old. The tectonic plates no longer moved and the mountains had worn down to high hills. The shallow seas and meandering rivers were lined with swamps, wetlands and marshes.

The Sem lived, in their villages and cities, around those marshes. At the top of their world’s food chain, and without the glaring genetic differences that drove mankind to war over the millennia, they were a peaceful lot.

The Empire discovered them by chance. An exploration vessel dropped from warp with a minor mechanical issue and there they were. They had a modest amount of space travel, some orbital industry and mined the few asteroids and moons the star system held.
The Sem leaders and the population had no objection to being added to the Empire. Indeed, among those of us who represented the Emperor on the planet, it was often debated if most of them even knew they were part of the Empire.

The Imperial mission was small by any standard. The Sem made nothing that the Empire needed and needed nothing the Empire made. A modest amount of tourism and a steady stream of graduate students in Xenobiology writing their doctoral dissertations kept a few small hotels and restaurants open at the gates of the spaceport.

Few Sem ventured into the Empire. For one thing, aliens created quite a stir when they traveled to human worlds, making them uncomfortable. And, the Sem seemed to have little desire for adventure or new knowledge.

The arrival of Professor Roscoe Higgins, with an entourage of students, graduate students and post-doctoral fellows, along with a half dozen media types, created a stir at the spaceport and in the small human community.

Higgins was well known in both academic circles and the popular media as the foremost proponent of the “Forefathers” theory. Using various translated alien legends, some odd ships seen drifting in space and a great deal of self confidence, Higgins maintained that all the alien races had been seeded on their planets of origin by a mysterious race known as the “Forefathers”.

He had come to the Sem homeworld to collect and translate the legends he was certain they had about the “Forefathers” and their part in the creation of the Sem. One comely assistance even let it slip that most of his paper on the subject was already written. He just needed a few scraps of legend to support his conclusions.

Those of us who represented the Emperor on the planet had grown accustomed to the regular arrival of one fervent believer or another. The Sem treated them all kindly and hardly any had to be removed in restraints by the Space Marines guarding the embassey and the Imperial interests. Religion was the most frequent practice that the believers wanted to bring to the Sem. One religion or another, and multi-level marketing, were the two beliefs that people seemed compelled to inflict on the aliens citizens of the Empire.

Higgins fell into that category, but because of his prominence, we rolled out the red carpet for him. The Ambassador held a reception. A bright ensign was assigned to be his liaison, and a set of eyes and ears for us. The Sem were formally and informally notified that he would be visiting them.

- to be continued -

On an island in the middle of a bright blue sea sat a house. A very special house.

It was programmed for any contingency. It could handle any emergency. Overhead, a network of satellites kept watch and sent messages back and forth through the dark depths of space.

Every evening, as the sun went down, the house wheeled the bed to the window facing west. The sun warmed the room as it slowly slipped into the sea and the stars appeared in a blaze of glorious points of light across the night. Shortly, the bed was wheeled back from the window and the curtains drew themselves closed.

The house had done this for many evenings. It did not count them, though it kept count. It merely performed its programming and waited.

The bed, too, did what it was designed to do. It provided comfort to the body nestled within its heart. It ensured the man that lay in its grip was comfortable. It fed him. It bathed him. It cared for his every need except for the nightly sunset. The house did that.

The bed had done this for many days. It did not count them, though it kept count. It merely performed its programming and waited.

One very special sunset came, and the house and the bed knew it was a very special sunset. As the dark descended upon the island in the sea and on the house and on the bed and on the man, the sky began to change.

To some it would have appeared like a fireworks show. Lights fell from the sky, leaving long streaks in the dark as they fell. Other lights grew brighter, some so bright that the dark disappeared for several moments.

The bed was not wheeled back from the window at the normal time. It stayed, and the man in the bed watched the stars fall from the sky.

The great space battle that had ended the war had taken place many, many years before. The debris and the lights from the dying ships had taken that long to reach this world. The stars that were killed had sent their dying light out into space and those lights had reached this world.

The man in the bed had not participated in that battle. He had not fought. He had merely given the order that sent the battle into motion.

The events of that battle, the deaths of men and ships and worlds and suns, had cost him everything. In his last act, he had caused the bed and the house on the island in the sea on the world to be built. And with his last breath, he watched the stars fall.

The bed terminated its program. The house drew the curtains and terminated its program. The satellites that orbited the planet noted the changes and sent their messages into the dark depths of space.

The wave of debris and radiation from the dying of the stars reached the world. It burned. There was no one to see.

The Centers for Disease Control have reduced their reporting of pandemic swine flu / novel H1N1 cases to once a week, on Friday. We will attempt to keep our readers updated during the week by posting data from various state sites.

The CDC posted numbers a day early “to coincide with the Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices meeting”.

Pandemic Novel H1N1 or Swine Flu trend based on CDC numbers for 6-25-2009. Click on the graph for a larger version.

States marked in this color are those which have stopped posting their pandemic flu case numbers on line, or the numbers are not easily found at their site.