Friday, November 28, 2008

Tis the season to be stupid.

Good Morning: Now that I've binged and purged in honor of being thankful, I'm off to do some shopping. There are some special deals on appliances and I need to buy some stuff I can't afford. I will be most interested in watching the folks who are buying shit they don't need, probably don't really want (somebody told them they should have it or give it) and usually can't afford. Things like a second bidet for the double wide; or granite countertops. I think when I get my house finished ("when" sounds so much more "positive" than "if") I will have amassed a lot of stuff at clearance prices--no other way I could do this. Well, the sciatica is still beating me up, so I gotta be off and away while I can still motivate. I'll be glad when I feel well enough to be my usual, vituperative self.

Friday, November 21, 2008

YOW, it hoits!!

I had some nasty sciatica once. It went away for about 3 years--it's baaaaaaaaack! I think that perhaps driving nearly 2,000 miles last week did not improve the situation but that was my choice--to spend time with peeps I like. I gotta go to the gym and see if I can "spin" some of this out on the recumbent bike. I got back here in Oswego and found about a foot of snow in my yard--and a nice "plow sundae" in my driveway. Moving that mess may have been contributory to my back pain as well. I think a snowthrower is on today's shopping list. I was sitting in my 44 degree bedroom yesterday, sending a rant to someone, when I noticed that there was tapping going on that was not a.) my fingies on the keyboard or b.) my castanet teeth. I went over and tapped on the freshly rocked wall and was rewarded with the sound a skwerl makes when he's feeling threatened (I've heard it a bunch of times now and, yes, they were right to feel threatened). I whanged on the wall with a piece of 3/4" plywood (so's I wouldn't screw up the shitrock) and cousin treerat vacated the premises. When I went outside a few hours later I saw the spot he had found to gain access; a never completed bit of siding by the previous owner. Of course it was 12-16 or so feet off the ground on a gable rake. So, after shoveling not one, but two, small roofs I got out my tools and started removing the builder's felt (tarpaper) to see what I needed to do and guess what--the bastard was home! I rousted him again and then put 16" x 30" 28ga sheet metal panels all the way up the rake to cover the gaps (no more than an inch or two, but those ratbastards are supreme opportunists). If he comes back he's gonna need goggles and a cutting torch. A friend I was chatting with last evening said that she was told by an environmental police officer (they have the death penalty for littering here!) that killing the squirrels will never solve the problem as they just keep making more and expand into the vacant territory--he sounds like a goddamned treeratofascist to me, I wonder if HE can see Russia from HIS house. I think I may have to start putting non-progress reports on the house in here, as well as photos--seeing as everything is hunky dory now that we have a sane president in the wings. Then again, I was just over at Ed Brayton's "Dispatches From The Culture Wars" on this thread: Maybe it's not over even WHEN the fat lady sings or the "Rapchure" get's called on account of demand side lesberalism. Google "democommie" and follow the fun. There's over 330 comments and at least half of them are batshit crazy fundies and reichtards (is that a redundancy or cies) Another day, another poem or two. The following two pieces were written about the same time and I used to like having people read them back to back and watch their faces as they finished the "nice" one and then the "sick" one (their general take on the first and second, in that order). Well Mannered That moment when you touched him; I knew he was not your man. The touch was soft, yet, not tender nor, did it linger, for another moment's warmth. It was a simple courtesy, perhaps even a kindness. It was not the touch of a lover; not the touch of a true friend. It was a gesture of grace, a moment of thoughtfulness, one human aware of another. "Excuse me, please." not, "Hey, you!" 2/18/01 Unemployment This morning, like most, was a welter of confusion in the moment that I woke. Then, I sorted out the imagined and the factual. I realized I was alone, in the sense of not having you next to me. I realized my adventure had been milliseconds of REM. I realized I was still sleeping underground, a vampire in the cellar apartment. A vampire who had chosen unemployment over the bad job. You said I was sucking the life out of you with my nihilism, negativism and cynicism. I have to admit that I was being pessimistic, a response I thought extremely logical, given the state of the world and our relationship. I took the coffin of my self-hatred and went underground. I hunger for the warmth and sustenance of living in someone else's soul; I do not act on my hunger. I sit here, unemployed, looking through the employment ads that call themselves, "Personals" I read about a lot of rosy prospects, no mention of the work involved. I read about the rewards that will come from blindly answering an ad with a letter that has a code instead of a signature. They ask for a picture. I can't send one--they would see the fangs 3/11/01 Bear in mind, these were written when I had been living alone--and not dating--for about 6-1/2 years. I'm not sure if I owe my sanity to my celibacy but there are several lucky women out there who probably owe THEIR sanity to it.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

I guess summer IS over.

I got back from a week of visiting friends on the MA and NH seacoast and found a foot or so of wet heavy snow in my yard. Too.damned.early.for.this.shit. Oh, well. I had a a good time sleeping around and yakkin' with pals. I would have liked to visit some folks I keep meaning to spend time with, but there were certain things over which I had little or no control. I need to return a rental car, pick up insulation and get back to work. So, all you're getting now is this poem: Appetite When I was young I was so hungry, I had such a great hole in my soul. I gorged myself on hatred and self-loathing, feeding on the rage until my heart was as bloated and hard as a blood filled tick. I became so ill. I nearly died. People in my life tried to give me love, but there could never be enough, because I didn't know what "enough" felt like. It tasted so good, love did, that I wanted to take everyone's away; not leaving them any, I was so greedy. Too nice, too rich, too much. So I went on the "I don't need anybody" diet. It works pretty well, most of the time. I just keep telling myself that my hunger for love will pass; that loneliness is bearable, that the pangs of longing will fade, that I'm better off alone. Then I see you, we speak, I learn your name; I learn to expect your welcoming smile. It's like that old potato chip commercial one is not enough, I want them all I remember how good it felt to be a part of someone's life. I forget the sense of loss that came with partings. I feel like singing for my supper but, if I open my mouth, it will be to scream out my need. I must remember that hunger is not starvation; that satisfaction has more to do with restraint, less to do with gluttony. I want to taste the sweet, bitter, salty, sour, crunchy, soft and chewy that life offers. I want to know the difference between enough and too much. 12/30/00

Friday, November 14, 2008


I'm sitting in an internet cafe in Newburyport, MA; buying some bad coffee to get free web access. As is the usual case when I come to visit it is hard to try to connect with all of the folks I want to see--I consider a .250 average to be very good. I read something the other day that spoke about relationships. I'm paraphrasing here, but the essence of the piece was that there are two sorts of friends--those who need constant affirmation of their status in word or deed; and those who figure a friend is a friend. I fall into the latter category. I have picked up where I left off with people after incredibly long layoffs (in one case almost twenty years). It's not my reason for being here, but I was asked to answer some interrogatories in a friends divorce proceedings. When I had finshed printing them out I had to get them notarized and the two of us walked to a nearby attorney's office to have that done. The nice lady who applied her seal and asked for my license to make sure I was me, finished the paperwork and said "you're welcome" to our "Thank you"'s. I then said "(her name); you don't remember me do you?" She looked at me and said, "No.", but she knew that she should. I laughed. She said, "NOW, I remember you!". She used to bartend for a friend of mine and I think it really took her back to see me after something like 7-8 years. I like my life and I like to be able to move around to see the people I love and care about. In fact, I'm sitting in front of YOUR house, right now.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

The 1st an 2nd Amendments to the U.S. Constitution

I pulled these from an online "Bill of Rights" website. Article the third [Amendment I] Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances. This says that we can say what we want to say to and about others. It does not say that we cannot be held responsible if our utterances are the proximate cause of a crime against a person or the state or if such utterance is a crime against sundry local, state or federal statues (libel, slander, assault--for instance) in an of itself. Article the fourth [Amendment II][4] A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed. This says that we can all have guns (at least in the minds of the current SCotUS re: Washington D.C.'s ban on ownership of handguns in the District). Whether it means everybody in the country can have guns is not settled law yet. Our political opposites (and, in many cases, social and intellectual opposites--hint: smart and friendly, they're not) like to think that the 1st and 2nd Amendments are their exclusive birthright. They would have us think that, in light of their superior patriotism and obvious moral righteousness that they may decide who has the right to free-speech. In their minds that right is not universal; it is reserved for them and their fellows. They would likewise have us believe that they have an unfettered right to keep and bear arms, regardless their lethality or utility. When I have commented on other blogs that they might want to think about what that means in terms of the people they are so afraid of having the same rights they are silent or, more typically, abusive and dismissive. I often wonder at the apparent dichotomy of the pick-ups and other vehicles I see with bumper stickers that espouse anti-abortion views; the notion that GOD is actually driving/navigating the vehicle(it's often unclear which--although I don't believe GOD gets pulled over for DWI); that JESUS loves the occupant and it's reciprocal AND that GUNS are fun, necessary and BY GOD the vehicle occupant's until death do them part. I am pretty much an atheist these days, but I did spend 13 years in parochial school getting the lessons of Catholicism poured over me like the saving waters and I don't remember JESUS or GOD being Life (+eternity) NRA members. As is obvious from yesterday's post and the comments in the thread I have new readers. People like Serr8ball, who see themselves as the arbiters and guardians of MurKKKa do have those first and second amendment rights. They would do well to remember that WE ALL DO. I could simply ban the idiots but it is interesting, in the way that viewing a surgery on cable is interesting, to learn what they think. I've been invited, numerous times to various reichwing blogs. WTF? That's not an invitation any sane person who disagrees with such people would be interested in accepting--especially given comments to the effect that one would be assaulted at said sites. No, I think I'll stay here in my little blogtopia with my make-believe friends--at least they're sane and decent folks. Thus endeth today's rant.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Old POWARHERO's never STFU, they just become irrelevant

You know, it seems like just yesterday I was lamenting the fact that I have very little charity in my heart for the unrepentant asshats that, now they have lost the election, want to make hating america a KKKristian virtue. Oh, wait, it was just yesterday. So, it seems that John McCain, fresh from his disastrous presidential campaign wants to go help Saxby Chambliss get re-elected in the runoff election down in Jawjuh on December 2 ( I was all for poking him and likeminded shitheads with a sharp stick anyway, but now it appears that I would be justified in doing so. He is, he really is a p.o.s. of breathtaking stupdidity. I wonder if he and George The Worst have some sort of side bet going for who can lose the most stature in the shortest amount of time. I know Bushkins has an awesome early lead, but McCain is rapidly closing the gap. UPDATE: Oh, boy! I've just gotten my first real knuckledragger troll, Serr8d, whose blognomen is obviously sharper than his wit. It will be interesting to see how much bile he can spew. For those who remember Nashville is talking or MCB blogs, Serr8d and a few of his gang from Sickmeat buffet were startrolls over there. They all have their own blogs but they love to pollute others when they're not busy shitting into their own feed troughs. It will probably be getting nasty here, soon. Oh, dear!

Monday, November 10, 2008

My songbook don't got no "Kumbaya"

Good Morning: Here it is, the beginning of the first full week of the brand new era (let's hope it's at least as long as the "Permanent Republican Majority") of the sovietization of America. Well, no, it's not, really; but, that is the way the reichwing blogospewers are protraying it. President-elect Obama (as differentiated from Pretendsident-SELECT or Pretendsident-RIGGED Bushkins) has been given, in the words of a blogger elsewhere, "a -77 days 'honeymoon'". He is being vilified at least as viciously and loudly as Bill Clinton was from the day he won his first term. There is a call to join hands with the opposition and work together to pull this country out of the Bushcomire that it was driven into. This is all well and good. We should welcome, allow and encourage those genuine conservatives who want a stronger, safer, healthier and fairer america into the fold, so to speak. For those, however, who are filled with hatred and misdirected rage we need to exercise vigilance and remain ready to refute their lies. James Dobson, Bill O'Reilly, Sean Hannity, Ann Coulter and the rest of that sick, twisted legion of perverts need to be shouted down at every opportunity. I have a new golden rule: Don't make nice with idiotic, hatefilled assholes. Keep your hearts, eyes and ears wide open.

Thursday, November 06, 2008

This will be like the "Rachel Ray" post; quickly prepared, nutrilicious truthiness in under 5 minutes. Obama got elected. Now we have to lay into OUR side to force them to do what's right for this nation, not their own interests. We need to make it safe for women, gays, people of color and those who differ (even with those of who are self-aware and awesomely enlightened) to speak, love, live and strive in ALL of our nation's cities and towns. We must cease to pretend that it's okay for some areas of this country to be run as if they were not subject to the same constitution as the rest of us. AND we must figure out a way for the GOD bothers to have their eucharist--and eat it,too--without imposing their beliefs on the rest of us. I'm done for today. I gotta get to work--and so do YOU! Violins con dios! S'okay, it was done, but then I decided to inflict a poem on you. I wrote it in 2004 and it's ostensibly about two people, but it's really about all of us. The Half-life of Intolerance The half-life of intolerance is a phenomenon of relationships. That which was a ripple on the fabric of love, Becomes the garment that chafes our hearts. What has been irritating becomes unbearable. It is not the thorn in our side; The burr under our saddle; The stone in our shoe. It is our fear; Of becoming irrelevant, Of becoming peripheral where we were epicentric. It is the fear of being once again, and forever, alone. Drowned in a desert; Starving in the midst of bounty; Dying of thirst in a river of your love. The more I dwell on this the farther I move from my center. I feel as if I’m the only one who is lost or hurt. Then I see the sadness in your smile. I hear the pain cracking the melody of your brave voice. I realize then that we are both afraid. I realize that it is, perhaps, why we are together in this place, now. We are meant to add the strength of two often enough to become one. 2/07/04

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

I'm singin' under the truck...

We didn't just get a new president last night. We got. HOPE. Perhaps that Jackie Deshannon hit ("Put A Little Love In Your Heart") can be revamped. Think of your fellow man Lend him a helping hand Put a little HOPE in your heart You see it's getting late Oh, please don't hesitate Put a little HOPE in your heart And the world will be a better place And the world will be a better place For you and me You just wait and see Another day goes by And still the children cry Put a little HOPE in your heart If you want the world to know We won't let hatred grow Put a little HOPE in your heart And the world will be a better place And the world will be a better place For you and me You just wait and see, wait and see Take a good look around And if you're lookin' down Put a little HOPE in your heart And I hope when you decide Kindness will be your guide Put a little HOPE in your heart And the world will be a better place And the world will be a better place For you and me You just wait and see Put a little HOPE in your heart Each and every day Put a little HOPE in your heart There's got to be a better way Put a little hope in your heart Don't you think it's time we start Put a little HOPE in your heart

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

Happy Obama Day

I think the title says it all. Now I gotta go work on my frikkin' truck!

Don't forget to vote todayt.


Sunday, November 02, 2008

HOPE, is not a four letter word

Good morning, my preciouses: I went to a concert last evening and heard David Roth sing wonderful songs that were, by turns, silly and sublime. Gentle, kind hearted and uplifting music, performed by someone who cares, deeply, about the world that he inhabits and all of those in it, even those with whom he disagrees. His politics were no mystery to me; but, he never really mentioned them until just about the end of his set. When he did, it was not about red/blue; it was about me and you. I don't have that much equanimity and magnanimity in my heart, just now (if, in fact, I ever had) but I am grateful that someone like David exists to do the things that I am just unable to do in that regard. In three days we will know, hopefully, who our next president will be. Barring massive voting "irregularities" it appears that the winnners will be the Obama/Biden ticket and a largish chunk of the electorate. The GOP for whatever their reasons might be (they are opaque to me) have tried, since 1980--at least--to change this nation into something that is nearly unrecognizable to those of us who actually read and believe the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. It's past time for a change, it's time for a paradigm shift. Let's keep our hearts and eyes open and our fingers crossed. UPDATE: Check this out: