Musings, as they say

Time to just write for a bit, without the constraints of news-article links and themes. Forgive me if I bore you; be assured that I bore myself frequently.

Israel is pissed. This will lead to one place – and I’ve written about it twice (google this site on “Russia”) – complete turmoil in Palestine, Lebanon, and Syria. Russia will bring in troops to calm all parties and prevent further bloodshed. How reassuring.

Iran is pushing it, too. They just said that they will pay to fix anything Israel breaks in Lebanon. Arrogance. It is so cute with an insane person gets arrogant. They often tap their feet and purse their lips without knowing it. I think Israel should give Iran a colonic irrigation.

Kinda funny line: A wok is what you throw at a wabbit.

The New York Times has so deeply cast its lot with the devil left that all conservatives and many moderates will never give it credibility again. It is toast. Readership will continue to decrease; it will try to balance things with internet-based revenue. Staff will dwindle. But a core piece of it will survive and carry the face of something resembling a grand newspaper – not unlike Gloria Swanson as she descended the stairs in Sunset Boulevard and said, “I am ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille.”

To know me is to love me: If there is one thing I cannot stand, it is intolerance.

Van Morrison is going to be at the Greek Theatre in September. I saw the Grateful Dead there over 20 years ago. I brought Kool-Aid. Plain Kool-Aid. In case I got thirsty. The guy taking tickets told me it was electric. Something about LSD being dissolved in it. Grateful Dead, acid, go figure.

Words to live by: Never take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same evening.

I think it is rather humorous that Martha Stewart is “back on top.” Like she would ever assume the missionary position. I am still waiting for the legacy press to label the felon with the truth: she was guilty of insider trading whilst she was a sitting Governor on the Board of the NYSE. Slut.

Society’s view: Four out of five people think the fifth is an idiot.

I continue to be undecided about the gaping hole in my education, namely the classics. Classic anything – literature, music, art (am I missing something?). I have sat for decades and listened to people make casual references to Homer (not Simpson), negative space on Impressionist paintings, and some music guy other than Mozart and Beethoven. I am not commenting negatively upon them; they are generally nice people that I like. I’ve nodded politely and tried quickly to make sense of their reference. I am quite good at it now. But so much is new to me still. At 47, I’ve come to accept that I was simply born to a lower class, and regardless of how I rise or fall socially or economically, I will always belong to that class. It is comfortable for me. I have learned some things through the years, but I use that knowledge differently than other knowledge. I like the street, the farm, dirt. I’m not made to prosper – just survive. There is comfort in such knowledge. I prefer more salt, I guess.

Last impartation of fragmented intellect: I have a friend that feels without touching; that hears the silent ones; and that sees inside of me. She talks with angels.