i wasn't angry when i started to write ...

In a post entitled, Pravda, tagged Humor, and offered up on 2/8/8, one of my daily blog reads relays a line I will find useful at some time in the future. To wit:

It's been reported that proud Soviet automakers challenged their American counterparts to a competition at the Brussels World's Fair in 1958.

A Swiss engineer made an exhaustive comparison of a Soviet and an American car, and he favored the American.

After an awkward pause, the Soviet press reported that "in a recent international auto competition, the Russian car placed second and the American car was next to last."

White snow flaked
Onto the humped-over dog
She shivered
As her canine colon
Released its brown mass.
The accumulated snow
Caressed its steamy gift.

Interesting video of a six-gill shark at 3,300 feet. Massive. I muted the sound – people narrating live video allows annoy me.



If you follow this link after being told what it is, then you need to seriously review your life. The intro screen explains it … seems it is a staring game like we did as kids. The woman on the screen will eventually blink. Go for it, loser. And if you lose but keep on trying or seem to enjoy winning a bit too much, go here.

This thing called fuzzmail looks like it could fun. It records your typing an e – including pauses, adds, changes, deletes, etc., and then sends a link to the receiver of your e so they can read the e as you typed it. A little thought can result in something rather humorous.

Alright, enough about them – what about me? Trying to change banks so I can begin to control what little money I seem to have left. Because I never got one reissued, I need a new driver’s license because I moved a couple of years ago. The local DMV does DLs on Thursdays. One day. That’s it. I will not give up. Tired of money not being available when I know damn well it should be.

I have four trips in the next 5 or 6 weeks, Virginia and Connecticut twice each. Boston needs to fit in there, too. Just underscores that I need to get my finances baselined and under my sole control.

I ended a major project on Friday by releasing for review 19 applications at an average of 150 pages each. I am still staring ten miles away after the dry-heave stage of those docs finally ended. Took me five weeks at hyper speed to generate them.

WT PIAPS is all in a huff about MSNBC saying they “pimped out” Webster Hubbell’s daughter. Well, she was pimped out. She was calling super delegates and saying, “you are not voting for Senator Clinton, you are voting for my mom.” How pathetic. Young lady, your mom’s job description is basically domestic and emotional. The President of the United States is precisely the opposite. Clinton had a child making some emotional plea – yeah, pimped out. What’s the issue here?

Last political note. Obama is going to clean up today and the next few days. Listen to WT PIAPS not speak of him at all – she will down play the victories as “expected” and will shift her discussion to attacked McCain. “Expected”? Why, because of the number of blacks in those states? Because of – what, exactly? Washington State is somewhat pale, eh? I’ll tell you why they are expected. She ONLY does well in large states where she has bought her votes since the co-presidency of 1992/3-2000/1. Those states had something to offer so those were the only ones she paid any attention to. Small states were just that – small. So she ignored them. And is paying the price now.

Read an article about a dem that offered a competing health-care program with bipartisan support. To quote WT in a closed-door meeting with him, “We will crush you. You will wish you never mentioned this to me.” Hey, WT! Blow me. Arrogant bitch …

politcally irresponsible

In case you have nothing to do this afternoon, here’s the Logo Channel Saturday afternoon lineup. The ellipses are from the website.

My Mums Used to Be Men. Meet Louise, the 12-year old daughter of two transgender parents living in Great Britain. When Louise finds herself the subject of media frenzy surrounding her parents' lifestyle, she decides to reach out to families that are constructed similarly to her own. After meeting a boy named Jamie and a transgender mother named Claire, Louise feels less... (So this guy is probably gay. Then he gets a sex change, and hooks up with a woman. How ironic.)

The Believers. What happens when a group of trans-people want to reclaim their spirituality and start an all-trans gospel choir? Transcendence Gospel Choir, the first ever entirely transgender choir, consists of individuals who are attempting to overcome feeling "Bible burnt" by the Christian Right while at the same time trying to form a musically cohesive choir... (I am sure looking at who sings soprano and who sings bass would be rather confusing. I love the use of the label, “Christian Right” like it’s a bad thing.)

Camp Out. If it isn't hard enough being a gay teenager in the midwest, imagine being a gay Christian teen. With the derision of society, family and the church against them, ten gay Christian teenagers struggle to confront the questions of faith and their burgeoning sexuality in light of what their church and Christian society has told them. This documentary... (“Burgeoning sexuality”? Is this a soft porn piece?)

Why is the underlying theme of all of these bits so negative? Why is that worn in the sleeve so consistently and blatantly? Can’t movies be made about the gay culture that are positive and supporting? It is always so much “them versus us.”

I was driving home today and heard an old Buffalo Springfield song (“For What It’s Worth”) that struck a thought:

There's battle lines being drawn
Nobody's right if everybody's wrong

(Here’s the YouTube.)

THAT is precisely the problem with the democratic argument in politics today. The pubs say, “They [Islamic pilots and blow-up dolls] are wrong. We are right.” Libs say, “We are wrong” – and then END the commentary. They spend hours and hours droning on about how wrong W is – but they NEVER say, “Those people over there are wrong, TOO.” So the pubs gleefully call the libs “enablers.” That’s the price paid for presenting half an argument.

I am finding it so hard to stay away from politics. When such stupid stories come out, how can I? Tell me if you can in any manner believe this story:

(Confirmed voice recording of Bill Clinton): There is this whole business of the new politics. Well I got a taste of the new politics today. We need a new politics where we all love each other. You’ve heard all that. There’s a radio ad up in the northern part of Nevada telling Republicans that they ought to just register as Democrats for a day so they can beat Hillary and go out and be Republicans next week and vote in the primary. Doesn’t sound like the new politics to me.

Today when my daughter and I were wandering through the hotel, and all these culinary workers were mobbing us telling us they didn’t care what the union told them to do, they were gonna caucus for Hillary.

There was a representative of the organization following along behind us going up to everybody who said that, saying 'if you’re not gonna vote for our guy were gonna give you a schedule tomorrow so you can’t be there.' So, is this the new politics? I haven’t seen anything like that in America in 35 years. So I will say it again – they think they're better than you.

Think about this for a moment. An ex-President of the United States, complete with Secret Service protection, actually witnesses a union rep saying these things? Sees a union goon following behind taking names and numbers of defectors? Oh. My. God. And he rather sheepishly ignored this situation? Wasn’t there press around him at the time? This lie is so frickin’ blatant. Bubba is just trailer-park trash. He has lost all his personal credibility. The boy is imploding. What a shame.

Actually, I don’t look at New Hampshire as a Hillary win at all. I see it all as packaging. They set it up that if Obama didn’t win big, then Hillary was the “comeback bull.” In reality, that was just a repackaging of her 20-point lead that evaporated. Obama made up 20 points in a week. She collapsed in NH. Today, Nevada should be interesting since Hillary lost the lawsuit to block casino voters from voting at work (caucusing, whatever). It will be fun to see the teacher vote that Hillary loses. Of course, Hillary is packaging South Carolina as a no-expectations state because of the disproportionate black vote. These people are so unbelievably racist.

Let’s see … we hit gays, Quran thumpers, and liberals. What’re we missing? Let me think. The handicapped!

OK, so this mentally handicapped prostitute is waving down vehicles. Some guy being interviewed said that she had “just really poor hygiene.” Ten bucks for a little hum time. The customer is or was in law enforcement. Remarkable little vignette.



Funny thing is, I have often said that I would never pay for sex. But isn’t marriage the same thing at a higher price?

See ya …

screaming at toilets

This is why I stay away from politics, despite my almost pathological following of it my entire life. One articles relates” "They like this war. They want this war to continue," Pelosi, D- Calif., told reporters. … Asked to clarify her remarks, Pelosi backed off a bit. … "I shouldn't say they like the war," she said. "They support the war, the course of action that the president is on."

So Pelosi opens her mouth and suggests – we all know she was – that the pubs rather enjoy the killing of soldiers. When questioned, she could not stick to her words. A little rust on the chastity belt, I guess.

Lucianne.com responds with: Could we now talk a little bit about how the democrats 'like' killing babies.

The message, of course, is that supporting a woman’s application of her right to privacy to the continued life of her fetus until the 24th week or so when ultra-womb viability kicks in is somehow liking the killing of babies.

My personal views on either topic don’t matter. I have a horse in both races, but I really don’t need to watch the ugliness that is American politics. No one will ever clean it up. It will only get messier.

No, nobody likes killing anything. Yes, some people leave their coat and soul in the Congressional Cloakroom. Just not interested. Tell me what my taxes are and leave me alone.

This is an interesting article on scramjet-engine technology. Same concept as a jet engine, only a whole lot more intense: operating temperatures in the thousands of degree; theoretical max Mach 15 – about 10,000 MPH. The concept is to use it for passenger travel. Termed “hypersonic,” it was originally funded by Reagan and originally de-funded by Clinton. Not a shocking pair of actions. Could you imagine a failure during top-speed flight? Instant toast. One problem – as fat-fetched as it may seem, but it will become real – the noise is akin to a rocket launch. They will not be able to use these engines as the sole means of propulsion at most airports. There will have to be a second power plant of sorts. Man … plane aloft, primary engines fold away, secondary engines deploy – “Please put your trays in the upright and stowed position, make sure all of your luggage is in the overhead compartment or underneath the seat in front of you … now, take a deep breath, pinch your buttocks together, and hold on! Sanitary wipes are in the pocket in front of you if you should fill your pants.”

Buried in this article is the statement, “The receding ice caps on Mars hint at a climatic warming trend.” When someone can explain why, and distinguish the source from the “global warming” here on Earth, then I will start listening to Algore.

Yes, this is where I am from. Chick get angry with her toilet, and proceeds to scream at it. Busted for public disturbance. Turns out to be protected speech. If I want to scream at my toilet, I have that right, no matter what language I use. That’s a good thing to know.

Found this article saying 3,800 people and kids under the age of 24 were homeless in NYC. Wasn’t sure how to judge such a number. Went to the NYS 2000 Census data. Seems 12.06% of the population are ages 15 to 23. Compare that to the first article’s claim of 8.2MM living in NYC, and it suggests that about 1 in 260 people in that age bracket in NYC is homeless. That doesn’t seem too out of whack. I’m not focused enough to track all the source data, but the EU, with a claimed 3MM homeless against a population of 456MM has an overall rate of 1 in 152. I guess NYC’s not too bad. A statistic is a terrible thing to waste.

All for now

happy thanksgiving from the palestinian authority

I frequent life is israel several times a week. The link is to a specific post, but just click his header for the main page.

What I find amazing is the bald-face lying of the Arab community. "What? Us? We are peace-loving, PBUH, yadda yadda, yadda." They are actively at war. Period, end of story. Any liberal simpleton that tries to suggest otherwise is not merely an enabler, they are a co-conspirator. There is no desire within the Arab community to resolve anything in Palestine. Letting them rot keeps them angry - and the anger is directed towards Israel. Just think what the several HUNDRED millions dollars Yes-Sir Are-U-Fat possessed in his personal coffers could have "solved" if he hadn't stole it.

These people will continue to fight until they are killed one by one. Everyone knows they are fighting, but are unwilling to resolve it. Just look at the garbage Israel took because they built a wall. Stupid.

Want to see these clowns at war? Check out the video. Notice the truck driving by - there is open knowledge of these actions. The "I don't masturbate because Allah told me so" crowd is setting up rocket launchers to toss missiles into Israel. At least Sinn Fein had the decency to use the cover of night (mostly).

daylight-saving time

I just noticed that my posts e'd by FeedBlitz do not include the streaming audio. I’ll be sure to mention audio coming or going in the words of the post. I’ll also watch for video insertion when that comes up and see how FeedBlitz handles it. The audio issue is probably because it is calling up flash instead of just an HTML link. I wonder how Reginold would have distributed - that was flash, too. Anyway.

Daylight-Saving Time. Get my hoe ready? What she got to do with any of this?

I never thought through the complexities of Daylight-Saving Time. Seems to me to be a national policy, must be a reason – just like there must be a reason for Boston to be such a governmental dick to kids with lemonade stands: get permission from five different government agencies, pay $335 in fees and licenses, comply with dozens of complex food and building ordinances, and carry $500,000 in liability insurance. I find such policy areas to be easy to leave to others to decide. They want my clock to change, I’m fine with it. They want to require prostate exams for all left-handed men at or over the age of 48 with grey hair living in the northeastern United States that work at home and have blogs, then they got a fight on their hands. But DST? Easy stuff.

After reading a lot of the history of DST, the energy savings, and all that, I decided to gather some writings on the opposition to it. Let’s see what gets people’s panties all bunched up over moving the clock hands back and forth twice a year.

Let’s get some business out of the way first: It is Daylight-Saving Time. The term uses the present participle saving as an adjective, as in labor-saving device. The hyphen is needed because: “6.15. Print a hyphen between words, or abbreviations and words, combined to form a unit modifier immediately preceding the word modified, … This applies particularly to combinations in which one element is a present or past participle.”

OK? Grammar Retards all aboard? Cool. Let’s go to the tape …

The Stupid tell us the extra hour of sunlight (hunh?) means more global warming: Letter to the Editor, Arkansas Democrat Gazette, Thursday April 18, 2007, Connie M. Meskimen: “ … As you know, Daylight Saving Time started almost a month early this year. You would think that members of Congress would have considered the warming effect that an extra hour of daylight would have on our climate. … Perhaps this is another plot by a liberal Congress to make us believe that global warming is a real threat. Perhaps next time there should be serious studies performed before Congress passes laws with such far-reaching effects.” Extra hour? You mean, Congress can change the whole Earth-Sun rotation thingey and, I mean, I’m getting brain freeze trying to figure this out, how it works. Do they slow down the rotation? I mean, like, you don’t create more Sun, do you? If we get more, doesn’t someone get less? Ah, the Chinese! No shit! Brilliant. But don’t they know? Wait, there’s something bigger here. I’m being set up for something. A Global-Warming Tax. Yeah, that’s it. The GWT. And here I thought that changing the hands on the clock was just the good-citizen thing to do. Man. Am I a fool. I bought right into in. Like a sheep to the stall at 2:00AM when Jim Bob holds the grain scoop: I should have known there was a fucking coming. Wow, those guys are smart! Wow. I had no idea. This Connie should get a prize of some sorts.

The Geeks tell us “VCRs, computers, some cellphones, and other devices will need to be updated to reflect the change, trashed, or have their shortcomings suffered gladly for a month out of the year.”. You mean, you guys didn’t anticipate something as simple as a shifting DST? I gotta throw it out? You people suck at programming.

Some Jews appear to have a conspiracy theory. Ultra-Orthodox Sephardic Jews have campaigned against Daylight Saving Time because they recite Slikhot penitential prayers in the early morning hours during the Jewish month of Elul. A writer in 1947 noted, “I don't really care how time is reckoned so long as there is some agreement about it, but I object to being told that I am saving daylight when my reason tells me that I am doing nothing of the kind. I even object to the implication that I am wasting something valuable if I stay in bed after the sun has risen. As an admirer of moonlight I resent the bossy insistence of those who want to reduce my time for enjoying it. At the back of the Daylight Saving scheme I detect the bony, blue-fingered hand of Puritanism, eager to push people into bed earlier, and get them up earlier, to make them healthy, wealthy and wise in spite of themselves.” (Robertson Davies, The Diary of Samuel Marchbanks, 1947, XIX, Sunday.)

The Others tells us something that I can’t quite figure out, but it sounds really bad: “Food for thought – Neptune, the planet symbolic of confusion and chaos, finally, after retrograding between the last degree of Cancer and the first degree of Leo, entered Leo, ruled by the sun, permanently on the first day of May, 1916, just a few hours after Germany put Daylight Saving Time into effect at 11 p.m. on the 30th of April, the night before!”

Connie teaches us that the Sun is up more, and Sammy tells us that the Moon is out less. The geek dude tells us to trash the devices we would use to record government-broadcasted messages on the television – so no record of their coded instructions to us. And now this Neptune getting cured of cancer thing comes in (and the government keeping the cure to themselves, so that they will be healthy, but not us). See how it all falls into place?

And you people wonder why I blog in the corner of a dark closet with hat boxes between me and the door and clothes draped over my head. Go figure. You people want to follow the scoop of grain, go for it. I'm gonna use a sundial from here forward.

happy halloween!

Forgive the blatant self-promotion, but someone googled elizabeth taylor with tapeworm. I, of course, got the Number One slot.

I just have to link to my post on this one: Liz & Larry Live!.

Hadn’t read it for a while. Kinda humorous.

... and ne'er the twain shall meet

I read a book once that was co-written by Peter Straub and Stephen King, The Talisman. I was curious to read it because I was, at the time, a big Stephen King fan. The first book of his that I read was Cujo, and I remember being immersed. By the time I got to Salem’s Lot I was unable to either stop reading or be alone. I remember Wife No.1 left bed to go the bathroom; I sat in the hallway outside the closed door. It was humiliating even then.

I read Danse Macabre, wherein he wrote of the genre of horror writing, and paid particular attention to his affinity for Peter Straub’s Ghost. (I subsequently read On Writing, A Memoir to the Craft, and gained a lot of appreciation for his talents – an appreciation that had waned when the kid in some book spoke with the reflections of an octogenarian. My new-found appreciation wasn’t enough to have me read any of his subsequent books, I stopped somewhere around Pet Sematary and The Talisman.)

I bought Ghost and dove right now, full of anticipation. The first several pages built into the first few dozen. I am all, “WTF? Where is this going? Doesn’t make sense.” Then something clicked. I never went back to re-read the opening portions to understand why I was so adrift. Maybe it was just his writing style, and I am much more adept now at discerning styles and meaning within than I was 20-some years ago. But when the tumblers fell into place, I was mesmerized from that point forward. Salem’s Lot was good, Stevie, but the premise of vampires is harder to dwell within than ghosts. Ghost is the singularly most frightening book I have ever read.

So when the joint book, The Talisman, came out, I was eager to read it. On balance, my recollection is that I enjoyed it. I recall at the time, however, that allocating the writing between Straub and King was not very difficult. Two people writing apart did not make for a cohesive whole.

It was that thought which prompted this post in my mind.

Two people can sit in a room, each creating a single story, but if they write on different pieces of paper, the story will never be one. In the end, they go their separate ways, each continuing to write, each prolific in their own way.

In the end, two stories can never be combined into one.

Woodstock, NY

I went to Woodstock this weekend. Is it a pilgrimage for hippies, like Mecca for Christian-haters, er, Muslims? (You see, I always get confused when books fundamental to a religion reads, “Now when you meet the unbelievers, smite their necks until you overcome them fully...” (Qur’an 47:4).)(Continued digression – what is wrong with you people? “Smite”? “Smite” them? That’s a little extreme, ain’t it? And just because we are “unbelievers” in your version of the afterlife? Can’t we – can’t we al – [I can never get this phrase out without bursting out laughing][focus, Clyde][breath deep, stretch toes (it works!)][OK] Can’t we all just get along?)(Full Disclosure: I had a Muslim guy make some crack to me Saturday morning when I was pumping my own gas. Seems it was a semi-full service gas station. The Muslim guys running it were wandering around helping people pump their gas. I was mid-pump before he got there. He walks up to me and says, “Ah, typical American! You think you can do everything!” I said with a smile, “Not everything, but I can pump gas.” He did this good natured laugh and walked away. I looked at the back of his turban thinking, “WTF was that?”).

Whew, man, where was I? Woodstock! Oh, yeah. I went to Woodstock, NY, this weekend. It was, um, interesting. Screaming liberals caught in a 40-year time warp. I am so incredibly happy for them that we are fighting a war in Iraq – it gives them the perfect parallel for Johnson and Vietnam (well, let’s be fair, they still think it was Nixon, but that’s absurd to anyone who wasn’t tripping their brains out constantly from 1963 through 1973 … oh yeah! Nevermind – Nixon’s war. Got it.)

Everywhere you look you see condemnation of President Bush and the war: Store fronts, telephone poles, car bumpers. Surprisingly, there completely lacked any innovation slogans. The most common, which also made appearances on yard signs, read simply, “Impeach.” OK. Whatever. Free country, free speech (thanks to President Bush’s appointment of conservatives to SCOTUS). Isn’t “impeach” a transitive verb? It needs an object, right? I understand sentences in a continuum where the subject can be understood to avoid redundancy, but I never saw an object-understood sentence. I also did not see any of the bumper stickers popular with liberals down here: “I support the troops. Bring them home.” (Ah, you support them as long as they don’t have to do what they are trained to do. Yeah, OK. Whatever.) So in Woodstock, they support neither the war nor the military. Funny how some things don’t change.

So what does Woodstock look like? Here’s the “Corner Cupboard.” The red cans out front read, “Butts.” I think they are port-a-potties. See the paper-laden telephone poles? The white paper facing the road reads, “Lost dog today.” Funny. The sign outdates itself in less than 24 hours. There’s foresight! “Ah, Flower, you need to tell them when you lost the dog, so they know how long ago.” “Um, yeah, I guess you’re right, Moonbeam. What day is it?” “Today.” “OK, I’ll put that.”

So I got up at 630 or 700 this morning. The place was putting out coffee at 900. 900? You run this place and you sleep in? People staying there are, like, tourists. Tourists get up and, well, tour. Coffee is a staple. Tourists get cranky without coffee, and me in particular having to wait until 900. Had to walk three blocks to find the first open place. Here’s where I eventually had coffee this morning. Yeah, this pic was taken in 1969. That’s Bob Dylan in the doorway. Same place, still there. They keep the coffee pots in the walk-in freezer. Still can’t figure that out. Maybe it has something to do with making iced coffee. How do you make iced coffee if the pot is warm? Makes sense on some stoned-out-for-decades basis, I guess.

This picture of the waterfalls is from 1900 or thereabouts. Same falls, still there. Nothing changes in Woodstock, it seems, except the inventory of the consumables: Weed, acid, mushrooms, coffee, guitar strings, hair dye. The things that stay the same include waterfalls, coffee shops, late risers, glossy eyes, mindless stares, clothes now threadbare, publicly accessible port-a-potties. Even the people are the same people that have been there since 1969. You see, when you come into town from the NYS Thruway on Route 212, the road bends to the left and becomes Tinker Street. OK, no problem. But when you go back there’s like this other road that you don’t see when you come in. So if you travel back down Tinker, the 212 thing is, like, other there, but then in front of you is this road. It, um, well, it’s freaky, cuz, like, if you go out that road then, like, it isn’t 212. I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t that 212 thing. So, I think we’d better turn around. Now, if you walk, it’s cool. The 212 thing comes up, and, hey, there’s “Not Fade Way”! Let’s go in! Maybe the new Janis shirt came in, or some new Jimi stuff. Then, like, before we know it, we’re on 212. But in a car, it just doesn’t work that way. Must be Bush's fault. So, well, may as well find a place to live, eh?

Doubt me? Compare these pics. See the guy in the BW, the one sitting up front? Same dude in color, just now he’s wearing a dress. Looks like the place he got to live is town square. Nice TV.



Woodstock, NY. Remarkable town.

dysfunction at 30,000 feet

Q: “Hey, A, if I left Place X around noon, how long do you think it would take to get to Place Y?”

A: “About 30 minutes.”

Q: “Stop! Why are you telling me that? I’ll figure it out on my own.”

A: “Then why did you ask me?”

Q: “I wasn’t asking. I was thinking.”

A: “But you looked at me, and asked me a question.”

Q: “I didn’t. “

A: “Yes, you did.”

Q: “No, I didn’t.”

A: “Yes, you did. You said, ‘Hey A …’”

Q: “Well, I didn’t mean to.”

A: “Funny way of not meaning to. Funny ‘peculiar,’ as in ‘dysfunctional,’ not in the least ‘ha ha.’”

Q: “OK. I did ask you, but then I decided not to ask you.”

A: “But you asked quite clearly, so I answered.”

Q: “What’s your point?”

A: “I had no need or interest in answering a question. Then you asked one. So I answered it. Now you jump on me for doing what you asked of me.”

Q: “OK.”

A: “You’re fucked up.”

Q: “So are you. That’s why I didn’t want an answer from you.”

A: “Whatever.”

Q: “This conversation is over.”

A: “It never began.”

train wrecks to observe

Been an interesting couple of days. Have watched old, familiar train wrecks in continued slow motion. Have watched continued bonding among others occur behind closed doors and at long distances. Have gravitated back to The Beatles in my music, just now mixed with the blues, melancholy, and Johnny Cash.

Speaking of music, my current mix: BB King, The Thrill is Gone; Johnny Cash, If You Could Read My Mind; U2, One; Neil Young, Philadelphia; The Band, I Shall Be Released; The Beatles, Yer Blues (2d take from the Rolling Stones Circus, with Eric Clapton, Keith Richards, John Lennon, and Mitch Mitchel (Jimi Hendrix Experience), Ballad of John and Yoko, You Never Give Me Your Money, and Two of Us; George Harrison, All Things Must Pass (Demo version from the White Album sessions, so actually it is The Beatles); John Lennon, Old Dirt Road, Real Love (Demo take 7), and Free as a Bird (John on piano, late demo); Ringo Starr, La De Da; and Creedence Clearwater Revival, Who’ll Stop the Rain, Have you Ever Seen the Rain?, Lodi, and Someday Never Comes. 72 minutes, fits on a CD. Send me an e me if you want one.

Ringo is there so I don’t blow my brains out. Ripped the stream from Beatles Radio, so there is radio talk after the song. Just haven’t gotten around to clipping it yet.

I have been having fun watching trips up and down the stairs tonight. Wasn’t counting, just watching. I am such an asshole – nothing slips by me. That’s why I need to live alone. No one to observe. Safer that way.

I sat outside tonight and saw a shooting star. Same thought as always came to mind, always for another. Last night was my favorite night of the year – the Perseid meteor shower. Just didn’t have the heart to watch it this year. Shame, too. I was looking forward to it. No moon, clear night. But I was blessed with a leftover tonight, so that was very cool.

Gotta snap outta the funk. Just fucking grabbing me by the intestines and refuses to loosen. Anger came and went. Tears tried to rise, won for a while, and then gallantly lost to fight another day. Anger again? No, now it is fantasy. I can feel the detachment welling, however. That has always been my best friend. Complete detachment resulting in viewing the world in bright-eyed wonder. I love detachment. I can float above everything for weeks or months, even years at a time. Nothing registers. Every body blow is painful but evokes no response or even emotion. I’m inviting it. Oh, how I have missed it! It has been years since my friend came to stay. Please come now, I have longed for your arrival. Tell me you love me still.

There is real skill in keeping this friend from the view of others. I got through my late childhood and teenage years, the mid-1980s, and about 1996 until 2004 with it holding me in its loving caress and barely a notice by anyone. Then I let it go almost three years ago. Let my guard down. Exposed myself.

But as I write I am beginning to smile, because I feel the rust leaving my bones. I feel my old friend settling in, telling me that I am still loved by it, it will keep me safe. Wow. What a great feeling it is. Just amazing. I had forgotten, really, forgotten what it actually felt like. Funny how memories can seem so real but are just two dimensions.

No more exposure. I have my circle drawn. Within it are fellow protectors.

overdue

It’s been a long time since I have written here. Sorry to those three or four coked-up manic-depressives staring out at SF bay wondering why life is so thin these days. I know you have come to count seeing witty analyses and insightful instructions on how to give a damn as you wander from paycheck to paycheck looking over your parents’ belongings on Sundays in between and making a mental note what you can sell on eBay. I understand. I’m here for you. I loved you long ago, and that has never left me. Never could. If we met again, I probably would nod politely at the familiarity of your face, and laugh when you laugh, but I wouldn’t have much recollection. Age does that to people from away. I think it is the east coast water. With such a high percentage of the US population living here, you know the ground water supply had to get personal at some point. Stay in Cal. You’re safe there. Well, safe until Sac becomes beachfront property. But people saying the “big one” is coming are a dime a dozen – that’s like a nickel a piece or something like that. Walk around with a life preserver on; you’ll be fine. Does your car float?

So I’ve been working my ass off, that’s why I haven’t written at all. I am helping to design a distance-learning school for a group of post-secondary institutions. I am the academics guy – go figure. Yeah, I shake my head at the thought, too.

I hope you aren’t looking for discussion of news or politics. I quit both. Seriously.

I quit listening to liberals when some chick said that all women should be blowing Bubba Clinton for all he did for women. How incredibly embarrassing it must be to be a person anywhere near that women, someone so pathetically vacuous. I bet you your ears pop when she walks past your desk.

And then I quit listening to conservatives when they turned on W. All W is doing is finishing what he started, and everyone around him are weak-kneed pussies. It doesn’t matter if you agree with the war or not, W didn’t lie, nobody lied, everyone was on the same page, and we marched in. So it isn’t easy. So what? You think WW2 was a cake-walk? You read the old newspapers and read about the then-war-pussies? They bitched and moaned just like now.

So anyway, I am done with politics. Done voting, too. Nobody gets my encourage to give up there soul.

So why the broader news apathy? Libs run the presses; cons run the internet. There is no news anymore – it is all politics. They can all kiss my ass.

I write. Got a book coming out in 18 months or so. No more news until some blood is let. I do my job. I raise my kids. I talk to my twin. That’s my life. Focused. I like it.

I’ll start writing about it more. Promise.

Nonconforming Cartoons

My daughter is back at the drawing table ... well, chair with drawing pad on bent knee. I am familiar with many of the issues that cross her RADAR screen because I am in constant contact with students through work.

There's an issue with kids cutting these days. It's probably always been an issue in one degree or another. The difference today is that parents and teachers are frightened to address issues head-on. Perhaps it is - understandably - because of today's litigious society supplemented with instant communications. I suggest that another segment of these folks are paralyzed in inaction because, well, they are just plain incompetent. Regardless, kids have a refreshing way of handling other kids. You want to cut? You are trying to draw attention to yourself? Go for it! Just cut! Kids know the difference between attention-grabbers and those in real need of help. If parents and teachers would stop chasing their own fears and simply relate one-on-one to the kids - find them at their level - then maybe the difference would become clear to them, too.

A "wigga" is a white ni--, well, you know. Google if it you don't. Kids spend a lot of time emulating other people. When I was younger, I saw teens dressing and acting like Elvis, then The Beatles, and then, well, they were mostly too high to remember who they idolized. But that was the point - they emulated people they idolized, and they idolized people that had achieved some sort of broad-based success or notoriety. These days, the emulation seems to be, at best, of the notorious and, at worst, of each other. A lack of higher goals seems pervasive.

I remember asking my students what they would do if they were handed $1 Million. A freshman piped off with her wish list - so we priced it, deducted it from her bank account, and watch it depreciate. She was broke within months. Her answer? Get another million! Thankfully, other students were more conservative with their newfound wealth.

blues news

I love stories that let me know that I am not so alone in doing pathetically stupid things in this world. To wit …

Zimbabwe’s Mugabi (sounds like a stew of some kind) is going to nationalize 51% of the ownership of most foreign-based companies and … wait for it … give that ownership interest over to the economically disadvantaged, "indigenous" Zimbabweans. That makes a lot of sense. Take companies that are employing your people, propping up your embarrassing economy and give control to the unemployed. Wow. How drunk were you when that thought came to mind?

OK, let’s see whose phallus is bigger while 27 people bob around on a tuna net. the Maltese and Libyan governments argued over who should save them from drowning . Italy finally stepped in and saved them.

Governments silencing opposition does not end the discussion. So, when Venezuela replaced opposition TV with state network all they did was ensure an underground market in adverse communication got stronger. Meatheads.

Under the caption of, “Run for your lives!” comes the headline, “Burma gears up to join axis of evil.” Yeah, right. So they are going to sell their natural resources and buy weapons. OK. To what, shoot yaks? I thought Burma made and exported Gummi Bears or something like that. It will be humorous to see the footage of them standing in a circle during target practice. Maybe Doctors without Borders can be on stand-by.

Speaking of self-delusion, the dude running Pakistan actually said, “Al Qaeda leaders not present in Pak.” Yes, we have looked. They are not here. Nope, nowhere. I can assure you that Al Qaeda is not … zing! … run for cover! Whew, that was close. OK, where was I? Oh, yes, Al Qaeda is not pre … (Anwar, please check my bank account and see that Sheik Osama’s money has been credited) …

Speaking of self-promoting, the Muslims have a problem. Yeah, gross understatement, but one in particular. You see, if you drift down a few posts, they run the top five countries surfing the net for porn, yet the Quran forbids a man being alone with a woman. So, what is left for a good Muslim to do but yank the ankle spanker to 2D women? Seems reasonable. After all, Mohammad (Peanut Butter Unto Ho’s) must have known something they don’t quite get. Think, think, think. There must be a way around this. Got it! If, now follow me, if a brother has a need (ok?) for, um, milk of a special kind, yes, that’s it, special milk and, um, a woman is, (what’s the word?) giving milk – lactating, yes, that’s it – then the man and woman must be alone in order to give such special milk. So, out comes a Fatwa allowing adult breastfeeding. So let it be said, so let it be written, so let it be done. Who are these people?

Speaking of getting your knickers in a bunch, how about the court ruling that held, “Gay Australian pub wins right to ban straights.” What’s the test? Do you have to just say you are gay, or do you have to walk or talk a certain way? Is there a two-encounter minimum? Do you have to fondle the bouncer on the way in?

There is a bit of good news today. Although SCOTUS in 1977 said that the death penalty was disproportionate to the crime of raping an adult (the opinion being that of nine men with no relevant experience), the question of death for raping a child was still unresolved. Seems we are moving in the right direction. The Louisiana Supreme Court last week upheld the death sentence for a pedophile, and the governor of Texas is soon to sign into law legislation to that effect. I am actually a bit torn on the issue. I think the compromise is to give them ten years in the prison general population, then execute them.

Gotta run. Work be at hand …