GOPants around their ankles

Good morning, my friends: It appears that, once again, we are being treated to an installment of the "I have sinned, been caught after lying about it, asked GOD's forgiveness, got it and moved on with my life" dog and pony and JESUS show of the Party of Hypocrisy. Now, now, I know what you're saying. "But, democommie, he's not doing anything that wasn't done by the likes of Bill Clinton, John Edwards or Eliot Spitzer." That is true, except that he is. I know that Clinton, Edwards and Spitzer have all done reprehensible things during their respective tenures in "public service"--that phrase has so many unintended meanings. However, none of those three were outspoken in defense of DOMA or other anti-gay rights initiatives. And none of them used their religiosity as a badge of honor. Oh, they may have crawled behind the Jimmy Swaggart cringingbullypulpit when they were on the meaculpa trail, but they didn't make a living out of publicly parading their virtue--while being cuckolding, lying, adulterous assholes. I feel like I need to keep saying this, because some people still don't get it. I'm an atheist, I'm okay with christians--and anybody else--believing anything they want to believe. I'm also okay with them being smug about me going to hell when I die--again, whatever floats their boats. What I'm not okay with is them getting in my face or trying to have their beliefs made into law at any level. Folks like that are not christian, they are KKKristian. And I mean that in the most insulting way possible. They are hate-filled, sanctimonious shitbags whose delusional thinking leads them to the notion that they can change me and who knows how many others in the U.S. to come around to holding their view of the world, by threatening, condemning and sometimes killing those with whom they disagree. Their precious time would be far better spent in correcting their own erroneous ways than in their attempting to change me or other people who, frankly, don't give a damn how they think or feel--until it impinges on OUR freedom. When Eliot Spitzer got caught with his hand in the nookie jar, I said, as soon as I saw the newsflash--"he needs to retire". I will admit to not following the Edwards saga as I have some other stuff going on, like trying to finish my house, but if he's unqualified for office--as the reptilicans say he is--because of his "sins" then I say he should resign on the same day as John Ensign. I must say again, though, that Edwards, IIRC, did not make the sanctity of marital fidelity a cornerstone of his political campaigns. With both McCain and Ensign proving that they are liars and scumbags it could be an interesting campaign in AZ, next go-round.

In memoriam

It has been a pretty long and somewhat sad week for me and my family. My younger brother, Marty, passed on June 6, 2009 and the last week, the last several days in particular, have been filled with a lot of sorrow and the usual mix of the seven steps of grieving. I was not close to my brother (I'm really not close to most of my family) and of course I could never be as close to him as his wife and children are. I learned a lot about him in the last several days and I think, that as sad as his passing was, it was wonderful that all of his siblings, his large extended family and numerous friends were all able to get together to salute his life, share an incredible collection of humorous and heartwarming stories about Marty and bid adieu. My lack of closeness to Marty and to many members of my family has nothing to do with them--it is all to do with me. It certainly does not mean that I don't love and cherish every one of them, even those with whom I cannot spend much time. I am so happy for those of my siblings and their children have had successful careers and raised their children to be the outstanding people that they are. I also feel the sadness of those who have not reached their life's goals. Life is a process of growth and renewal, sometimes filled with joy and at other times so very painful. I do not, as many of you know, believe in any sort of saving god or in a life after this one. That is not to say that I KNOW this to be true, it's just what I believe. For those who believe and take comfort in their belief, I hope that they find solace in their faith in such times as these. I believe that we are, literally, stardust, and that we all live and die and live again in a multiplicity of combinations in the nearly infinite universe. I'm not sure where Marty has gone. If I am, in fact, completely wrong, and there is a heaven of some sort or a process of genuine reincarnation--well, hell, I'm screwed! I think, however that, if such is the case, Marty is with my 'rents and our dear sister, Anne Marie, doing his endearing, infuritating best to be a good brother, dutiful son, doting parent and the President of Huskers in the Hereafter. I'll miss you, little brother, and I'll hold you in my heart, you rascal.

Gutless Soldiers of KKKrist

Today, while attending services at his church, Dr. George Tiller was murdered by a lone gunman. This is the lead paragraphy from the Wichita Eagle online edition. "WICHITA - The 51-year-old man arrested in the shooting death of Wichita abortion doctor George Tiller -- a case that has drawn international attention -- could be charged Monday." "Wichita abortion doctor"; not Wichita doctor who performed late stage abortions, or Wichita doctor who bravely performed abortions that other providers had been frightened or hounded out of doing. Nope. "Wichita Abortion Doctor". Nice touch for the hometown paper of record. Randall Terry (founder of Operation Rescue),being the piece of shit that he is, issued the following statement: ""George Tiller was a mass-murderer. We grieve for him that he did not have time to properly prepare his soul to face God."" By any measure that I would make, Dr. Tiller was a decent human being. He provided a service that is only being provided by two other doctors in the entire U.S. Whether one is a proponent, an opponent or an apathetic bystander to abortion, it is a legal medical procedure in this country. It is not murder, by any legal definition. Randall Terry is, of course, nothing but another liar for KKKrist. He has made himself wealthy and powerful by claiming to represent the unborn. He is lucky there is no GOD. If there was, he and the rest of his ilk would be in the deepest circle of whatever hell there would be. His former business, Operation Rescue, issued a statement of their own: "We are shocked at (Sunday) morning's disturbing news that Mr. Tiller was gunned down. Operation Rescue has worked for years through peaceful, legal means, and through the proper channels to see him brought to justice. We denounce vigilantism and the cowardly act that took place this morning. We pray for Mr. Tiller's family that they will find comfort and healing that can only be found in Jesus Christ." Lying fucks. They actively sought to demonize, terrorize, marginalize and persecute Dr. Tiller. They have achieved their goal of saving the unborn, by inciting hatred and violence against Dr. Tiller, his associates, his family and his community of faith. I am an atheist these days, not likely to change anytime soon, but I have no problem with people believing whatever comforts them--until it causes them to murder those with whom they disagree. Organized religions have certainly done a lot more damage than disorganized atheism, that's not even open for discussion.

I woke up this morning, to a gloriously sunny, late spring day. Gentle breezes wafted through my open windows and the sounds of songbirds going about their daily business, raising their broods, helping to complete the cycle of birth-death-rebirth put me in a reflective mood. I thought a bit, about the events in the news of the last few weeks and arrived at the conclusion that I have been remiss in my duties. I have not been fucking with enough assholes or bitchslapping the incredibly stupid mofo's that inhabit that nether world of religious fundamentalism and lockstep, kneejerkoff "conservatism" with anything like the sort of frequency that they deserve. The furor over Obama's pending pick for the SCotUS has the senate reptilicans promising to keep the "filibuster option" open. They are saying that "emapthy" (read "reasonableness") is the wrong quality to look for in said candidate and that they want to make sure no "judicial activists" are appointed for lifetime tenure in a venue where they might vote an issue based on their personal feelings rather than relevant law. This, of course, ignores the fact that their darling "textualists", Roberts, Alito, Thomas and Scalia are all men who speak publicly about what they "feel" and, if one looks at the majority of their opinions, vote pretty much the way they feel. The funny thing about "textualists" is that they don't believe in parsing the "feelings" of the Founders, just the words themselves. As someone pointed out, in a piece I read last week, definitions depend on whose dictionary you use. To quote Bill Clinton, “It depends on what the meaning of the word ‘is’ is,”. So, I guess that means that the justices all sorta vote their hearts, depending on whether their "dictionary" of choice is Websters or Conservapedia. The healthcare "debate" is a fucking joke. Big Pharma, Big Insurance and Big HMO "pledged" to cut our costs by $3T dollars over the next 10 years by trimming their costs by 1-2%. Then several days after they made that pledge they started carping and whining about it, explaining why they couldn't really honor it. Of course most of the people I mention this to are against "National Healthcare" because it will mean everybody gets shitty medical care. Regardless of the fact that "Single Payer" is not "National Healthcare" they delight in regaling me with anecdotal stories about people waiting three months to get a broken leg casted or six weeks to get a flu shot (most such stories are, simply, bullshit) in Canada. Maybe they're right. Maybe I'm looking at this the wrong way. Perhaps it makes sense to privatize some stuff that is currently handled by the organs of the state. Howzabout drivers licenses? Let's let the insurance companies issue those. If you're under 25, have been in an accident in the last three years or have defaulted on a scheduled payment--no license. That'll keep the riff-raff from getting behind the wheel; or, maybe they'll just drive without insurance OR licenses and let those of us who are paying for it pay for theirs as well. I hate to be the under-educated churl who has to explain this to people but having approximately 15% of our population uninsured and another 15% (or more) underinsured does not mean that they get free care or care that is subsidized by the skyfairy or Dr. Government. It means that the cost of their care is lumped in with other operating costs of the hospitals and the savings are passed on to us! More on this later. To quote a couplet I just wrote: Spring has sprung, the flowers are here. It's 8:16, I need a beer. Okay. So I got to work after breakfast and got caught up in sorting out 7 or 8 banana boxes full of books and throwing a bunch of the ones I don't want anymore into a box for the Salvation Army. Then I did some rip&tear on the second floor of the house and needed to make a run to the lumberyard for more 2x4's. After I picked up some stock, I stopped at the supermarket to make my weekly investment in the lottery. While I was scratching a "Cash Word" card (the only thing I ever spell is "loser") a guy at the service window was paying his utility bill. First he said that the bill was too high. Then he said that his cousin or someone else in his family lived in some other state in a house just like his and that their bill was, like, $88/month, while his was about $400/month. THEN he said it was because the Democrats and the unions are screwing everything up. Now, normally, I let this shit go--not today. I said "Right, it's all their fault.", with, perhaps a soupcon of snidelevity in my voice. To be honest I don't think I heard what he said next, but I said, "If it wasn't for unions you wouldn't get a vacation. You'd be working seven days a week." He countered with a remark that OSHA would keep that from happening (how the fuck he arrives at that conclusion is beyond my understanding). I let that obvious bit of foolishness go by, and I told him that without the unions there wouldn't be any OSHA either. He then walked away without saying anything else. Good thing, too; he was younger, bigger and probably more capable of kicking my ass than vice versa. I really, truly, find it hard to believe that people are so fucking stupid that they buy into that tripe, but apparently they ARE that stupid. After eight years of a vapid, incurious, dry drunk of a president all such assholes can think of is that it's the democrats' and the unions' fault? Goddamn those fucking fools and their idiotic adulation of the Limbaughs of this world.

Pretty Nazi update

Good morning: It appears that things have worked out nicely for Carrie Prejean. Not only does she get to keep her Miss California title (courtesy of Donald Fucking Trump) but her nemesister, Shanna Moakler, has resigned. I think Keith Olbermann does a better job of deconstructing Ms. Prejean's tear streaked rant than I ever could: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vwkTAzcToic And Perez Hilton says GOD made him do it: http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/thedishrag/2009/05/perez-hilton-god-told-me-carrie-prejean-did-not-deserve-to-win.html Donald Trump, scumbag that he is, simply overruled his underlings and said that Carrie Prejean will remain as Miss California. Why does anyone pay attention to Trump? He's been bankrupt more times than Liz Taylor's been married. I don't know who the current Trumptrollop is, but if I was her, I'd be watching my semi-nude back. The beauty paegant business, and it is certainly a business, is as corrupt and unreal as professional wrestling--and just as full of phonies. That's to be expected. After all, wherever there are people engaged in the business of exchanging cash for integrity and honesty, they will find a ready market. The thing that irks me is not that Miss California turns out to be a cheap, fake-boobed, whining strumptet. What irks me is the immediate 180 degree turn that her so called "christian" supporters can make in their own ethics and values. Not that I don't expect it. It has been a feature of the folks I call KKKristians for a long, long time. They can forgive anything that one of their "role models" does as long as that person says they have JESUS in their hearts. What a load of shit. As much as I expect it to happen, I still don't like it. I think the best way for me to deal with this is by doing the following: Whenever some KKKristian tells me that poor, poor, pitiful Carrie has been savaged for her christian values and honesty I'll just listen, nodding from time to time; and when they finish I'll say, "Yeah, I know what you mean. All that GOD given beauty and truth and wotta set of headlights!" "

No Whammy Bar or Effects Pedals

Another in a haphazard series of non-inflammatory posts. Gentle Reader: I journeyed to Johnson City, NY on Sunday. The purpose of the trip was to meet a person I'd met on the blogs, William Yelverton, who was playing in a concert at an arts venue there. Bill is a progressive who is both passionate and articulate in his arguments and while he no longer operates his politics blog, I'm quite sure he's not forgotten what brought us to the present. I knew of him first as a blogger and, then, as a musician. He is a gifted (and I'm sure much practiced!) classical guitarist. I am a person who loves music, without being able to play much of anything--when it comes to the guitar I have the musical equivalent of Black Thumbs--or even read a score, so I enjoy it without truly understanding most of it. The pieces that were played yesterday were a combination of classical ,baroque, Latin American and one great Bluegrass inspired piece written by one of Bill's colleagues. It was all wonderful. Just the instruments and the players, no microphones, pickups or other electronic augmentation. Piano alone, guitar and piano, guitar and violin. All of the music was played in a room that held 125 or so people in a relaxed "Pops" concert setting with cafe seating, bevvies, little sammies and lots of desserts! The audience was engaged, attentive and appreciative. Fortunately I did not have my Bic lighter--and I remembered not to yell "Freebird!" when both Bill and the pianist returned for their encores! I am currently listening to one of Bill's albums, "Harpsichord Music On Guitar". The other album that I got is "Music of South America". All the information about the music and Bill's professional creds (as well as his thoughts on his current home in TN--and its environs) can be found at: http://tnparadise.blogspot.com/; give it a look. I think Bill is the seventh or eighth person that I've met on the blogs and, then later, in person. I have been told by numerous folks that I am courting disaster by agreeing to meet with people in this manner. That has proved to be a non-issue. I'm not saying it's impossible to get in trouble that way, quite the contrary. However, my experience has been that most folks I spend some time getting to know on the interntet (through blogs) are who they have led me to believe they are. Granted I have not been aching to meet the trolls, but only people with similar interests and views on important subjects like the arts, politics and food. We live in a VERY large world and it helps, imo, to have folks turn us onto things that they find interesting and informative amidst the plethora of experience that is available. So thanks to Bill, and Dave von Ebers, Claudia, Mack, Nomi, Reverend Jerry Gloryhole, Annti, Richard at "Everyone wants to read my blog" and the rest of the good folks that I've met on the blogosphere. And to those of you whose names are not in that list, or who are on the list but not yet had me "all up in your grille..", your time is coming! Oh, btw, if any of you are into "kink", just remember this--I am the REAL reason that the chicken crossed the road! I'm putting another of my poems on here, today, 'cuz it's my blog and I can! Enjoy. The Lesson From the street, I watched you. Through the window I could see the lyricism of you, the fluent dancer; and the hesitancy of the students, unfamiliar with the language of movement, afraid of uttering a mistake. I saw you standing at ease; in a languid, indolent moment. I saw you, in a moment, transformed, as you moved into a "frame" Silk and satin for the viewer: Whipcord and spring steel for the dancer. That look of effortlessness, that look that costs a thousand, thousand repetitions. The nights of standing in front of the mirrored walls, learning by teaching. making that same, perfect turn; over and over. Until it is no longer a conscious pattern, but, rather, it becomes, like breathing, intrinsic to your being. Giving to the students a way to find the metronome of their own heartbeat. Getting from the giving; the wisdom of experience. Learning by teaching. Learning that every step you will ever take is already in your soul. 7/20/01

There she is, Miss Intolerance.

Good Morning: Well, in the midst of Pakistan being swarmed by the Taliban that's pouring over their borders from Afghanistan; GM's notice that it will be closing most--if not all--of its plants for two months and the ongoing financial/economic problems that continue to wrack our nation...we have the Miss USA dust-up. Poor Carrie Prejean--she LOST her deserved first place finish just because she admitted GOD's truth. HE don't want no GAYboy wives or GAYgirl hubbies. Shame on those nasty judges, especially that terrible Perez Hilton person, who attacked that poor girl just because she told him what GOD's whispered in her ear (and put in the bible, according to her) about how much he hates the idea of His & His towels. Tsk, tsk. And she is just such a bodacious KKKristian babe, too! I mean legs up to wherever, a nice rack, killer teeth and those beautiful (and eerily vacant) eyes. /snark. Ms. Prejean is not new to the business (and I do mean business) of beauty paegants. She's been at this for quite some time and knows full well what goes on at these events. She says she knew in advance that the question was one that she might be asked and that she prayed it would not fall to her to answer it. I have no problem at all with her wearing a push up bra and showing off her body to the admiring public. I have no problem that she is an idiot who, obviously, misjudged her audience. I'm guessing that, when she saw that she was not going to win the contest, she decided to get some "way of the cross" cred by being a martyr for the cause of anti-gay KKKristian bigotry. Fine. What I DO have a problem with is her and her idiot supporters thinking that her comment is somehow correct while the reaction to it is not. You want to express your opinion to millions? Okay. You wnat to not to have to own the fall-out? Sorry, that's part of the gig--ask the Dixie Chicks. Today's KKKristians seem to have this mindset that says that gays are sinners and abominations in the eyes of GOD. Otoh, it's fine with them that the likes of Carrie Prejean, strutting up and down the runway, being ogled by the audience of men who are not LISTENING to the speeches are disturbingly immodest WHILE they are espousing their KKKristian values. It boggles the mind.

No giant panda winners at the shooting gallery.

Good morning: I think I like to type that because, that way, I can at least SEEM to be starting on a positive note, before descending into the stygian depths of inchoate rage that are stored in the cellar hole 'neath my hindbrain. So, okay, we've tried reason, we've tried accomodation, we've tried balance. Howsabout we try this: "Fucking moron with guns and an inability to deal with, or even articulate, his problems decides to be a coward and kill other folks so we'll all feel bad for him." I am getting pretty worn out reading about folks with histories of abusing others or mental problems, killing folks with easily obtained (legal or otherwise) weaponry that is, to "hunting", what dynamite is to sportsfishing. I don't HATE guns. I like guns. I like the way they look, I like the way they sound and I like the way they operate. They are great, as machines, or implements or whatever you want to call them. What they are not great at, in fact they are quite horrible at, is "getting even" with one's own demons. I know how touchy some folks are about their second amendment rights. I'm that way about the other nine items in the BoR and the rest of the U.S. Constitution, come to think of it. However, when some shithead's "right" to bear arms causes the cessation (with extreme prejudice) of another's "right" to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness--well, for me it's a no-brainer. I'm gonna side with the poor, unarmed schlub, every time. I'm not suggesting confiscating anyone's guns. I am suggesting that current rules for gun ownership need to be reviewed. Current firearms ownership laws, particularly in some states like GA and FL are so fucking lax that people who have histories of violent, irrational behavior are able to easily obtain weapons that are equal to, or better, than those used by law enforcement agencies. Some folks have suggested that an armed populace would cut down on such incidents as; the three policemen murdered in Pittsburgh, the thirteen people murdered in Binghamton or the four police officers killed in Oakland--all within the last two weeks. In those three particular cases, it appears that the shooters were in two cases, duly licensed--the parolee in CA, obviously not. Weapons differed--not to the victims, of course; dead is dead; but, they all had in common, that they were wielded by people who thought that "might makes right". Re: the argument for arming the populace, if carried to its logical conclusion. During the Binghamton incident the police placed a number of individuals in custody while trying to sort out who were innocents and who might have been perps. Had those "suspicious" characters been armed they might have been mistaken for the shooter and been shot by the police. This idiocy needs to stop. Now.

Dance me to the edge...

Good afternoon, music lovers: I've spoken in this space, a while back, about a coupld of Leonard Cohen tunes. I just happened to turn on NPR at noon, today, and was rewarded with a "Fresh Air" program that featured a 2006 interview, by Terri Gross, with Leonard Cohen. I recommend listening to it. Mr. Cohen is currently on tour, for the first time in 15 years. While I will not get to one of his shows, I listen to his music daily. I recommend listening to all of his music, here's a great place to start: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EtMFdBsWICs&feature=related.

Just like the third world

Now that a judge in Spain (the same one who indicted General Pinochet a short while ago) has agreed to look at a prosecutor's request that six former Bushco apparatchiks be tried for (according to AP): (giving) "legal cover for torture at Guantanamo Bay, a lawyer in the case said Saturday." perhaps the Obama WH will be willing to something about it at our end. In South Africa, Rwanda, the Balkans and Cambodia--among other, mostly third world countries--there have been attempts at "Truth and reconciliation" style commissions. With varying degrees of success these commissions have attempted to clear away the deliberately obfuscatory layers of camouflage and unravel the reality of criminal or just plain bad government policy in those countries. Policies which resulted in much human suffering and lots of death and injury to those countries' citizenry. Can we do less? Can we fail to follow the example of a country like Rwanda and shine a light on the mechanisms, motivations and identities of those responsible for such horrific depradations? Admittedly, in the case of the U.S., from 2000-2008, most of the dying took place in yet other third world countries. Nevertheless, the people of the United States have suffered as well. Certainly we are not victims to the extent of the innocents of Iraq and Afghanistan, or the extra-legal "prisoners" that have been shoved into the likes of Gitmo. However, these actions were taken, like it or not, in our collective names. I am not suggesting the gallows (although I think it is actually an appropriate punishment for some of the people who were in charge during the Bush era), but if we fail to investigate the excesses; if we fail to identify--publicly--the miscreants; if we "sweep it under the rug", it will be impossible to expiate the collective guilt of our nation for what amounts to war crimes. I and most others were simply bystanders, witnesses to the depradations committed in the name of "The war on terror", but our guilt is, while diffuse, quite real in our own hearts. Without the truth coming out we cannot "fix the problem". Can we not do at least as well in this regard as Rwanda?

Deja voodoo vu

Good Morning: I'd like to think that I'm a sane, reasonable guy (not saying it's true, just that I'd like to think that); the reptilicans make it hard for me to think that way. Between the list of Republican governors who are saying they will turn down stimulus package dollars (only, apparently, those that would extend unemployment benefits) and the likes of Rushbo Limpboy stating that they want the plan to fail I'm having a hard time retaining my civility. I say, fine, let those fucking douchebags do whatever they want to in order to boost their political fortunes. Then, take some small percentage of the money they turn down and use it to run some "public service" ads for their constituents--just so that they understand that it's only a portion of the stimulus money that was turned down. I think that would be appropriate. As for Rushbo? I wish I believed in hell. Unfortunately, I don't. However, if Rush were to contract some horrific disease or die of a self-administered drug overdose I would be less than bummed. It was bad enough when these opportunistic sons-of-bitches joined up with the fundies on the sex and prayer crap, now they're thinking seems to be that propsperity (other than theirs) is also a gift from THEIR GOD, and everybody who isn't in their small, select circlejerk isn't worthy of it. Well, fuck them and THEIR GOD. I don't believe in GOD anyway, but the version they hold in their heads is anathema to everything I've ever learned about a compassionate and loving deity. UPDATE: According to Yahoo.News via AP: "Jake DeSantis, an executive vice president at AIG's Financial Products division, said Wednesday he's leaving the company and will donate his entire bonus to charity." The story goes on to talk about DeSantis' anger at being lied to by his employers, yada, yada, yada. You can guess, perhaps, that I'm feeling no sympathy for Mr. DeSantis. He says he spent the last six months working to straighten out this mess. He says he was promised the money, and that AIG and the AG's of NY and CT are meanies. Why no sympathy from me? Well, because he had to know that the whole thing was a fucking sham--he was after all deeply involved in the ongoing ponzi scheme that began with Paulson's giving these assclowns the first $65B--and yet he acquiesced to doing his bit to keep it all a secret until now, in order to obtain a payout in the 7 figure range. Fuck him. He should have manned up back in September and went to DoJ and spilled the beans.

You CAN'T ever go home anymore

I'm sitting at a Panera bakery/cafe at the moment. The spot where the Panera is, now, was, in my youth a sprawling lumberyard. Across the street, what used to "Houlton's Texaco, is now a Walgreen's. The Village Inn Pancake House (my first hourly wage job was there--I was the best fucking busboy in the WORLD!!) is still a block or so from here. But I found out a while back, from one of my brothers that the building, after numerous renovations was actually torn down and replaced a few years back. Omaha keeps molting like a damned lobster, shedding the old for the questionable new. You really can't go home, anymore; 'cause home ain't there. It's not enough that they've widened streets, moved whole neighborhoods and stopped selling beer at a reasonable price (.25/10 oz "draw"). I go into the bars I used to hang out in 35 years ago and all I see are a bunch of old farts--I wonder where my classmates went?

Addiction

Good morning, Class: Okay, so here's the deal. Joe Biden said, within the last news cycle, that Afghanistan is getting worse, not better. I agree, completely. How do we solve this problem. A.) We shift troops from Iraq to Afghanistan and use all of the tactics that haven't worked there to the same effect--and, btw, afford the MujahideenAlqueTaliban in Pakistan a terrific recruiting inducement. B.) We kill all of 'em--all the sortabrowns, and let GOD sort them out. C.) We try using our heads. The taliban are very, very nasty people. They are just as nasty as were the Iriquois, the Mohicans, the French and the English (along with their new colonists) in the King Phillip and Revolutionary wars. They're fighting for something that a lot of them believe in--and the ones that don't are probably the top commanders who are your usual messianic, nationalist nutjobs. The taliban have instituted Sharia law wherever they are in control and it is pretty grim living under such a "legal" regime. They outlaw most music and dancing, women being seen in public--without a burqa--and all liguor and drugs. In fact, in areas they've taken over, which include some pretty notorious poppy growing areas, they have eradicated that agriculture and replaced it with the growing of food crops. Oh, what's that I hear? They haven't done that, exactly? Oh, that's right. They initially outlawed all poppy cultivation and processing until they found out that it was a lot better way, than holding flatbread bake sales, to raise money for buying arms and ammo. But why would they do that, don't they know that drugs kill people and cause untold misery? Well, yes, they do. In fact they count on it. See, they know that some Afghans will do drugs (they can be beheaded when necessary--or convenient) but the bulk of their drugs go to other countries and a lot of them wind up here in the USA, USA, USA!!! Due to our War On Drugs, which has even less to do with reality than our War Against Iraqis Who Had Fuck All To Do With 9/11, the street price for good smack is much higher than it used to be. Therefor they get double the bang for the buck. They generate a lot of cash to buy nice things like swords, AK's, RPG's and IED's (not to mention some "weapons grade" plutonium, if the intelligence guys are to be believed) and they get to fuck up our society and create a tremendous strain on already strapped healthcare resources, social services agencies and the legal system. Howsabout we try something really whack, here? I'm just spitballing, mind you; but what if we just decriminalized drugs and treated drug abuse like, oh, I don't know, alcoholism? We could make the drugs which are currently expensive and often very dangerous (no QA to speak of) and untaxed into a product that is safe, reasonably priced and a revenue enhancer. Now, I know that some of you are going to say, "Well, if we legalize drugs like that, everyone will turn into drug-crazed zombies who will steal, rape and kill for their next "fix""! Regrettably that is very true. Addictive, intoxicating substances ALWAYS cause that sort of behavior. Why, I can't even have a couplea brewskis without wanting to off my neighbors, murder their kids and rape their wives--never mind what might happen if I drink a little vino, do a shooter of herradura or smoke a ciggie. It's frikkin' scary what drugs do to folks. Of course the other thing is that, even if you make drugs cheap, legal and safe; the junkies will still want to score their drugs illegally because they're just scum and that's the way they like it. But, damn it, I think it's time we just said the hell with it and cast caution to the winds. I think it's time we started placing more emphasis on fighting the War Against the Drug Profiteers. Whoopsie, I hope that didn't sound like I have an axe to grind with Big Pharma or anything like that. Now, if we can only convince Joe B. that punitive measures against users and street level dealers are a COMPLETE FUCKING WASTE OF TIME AND RESOURCES then perhaps we can get on with doing something positive. I'm not holding my breath.

Addiction

So, a nice light post about wonderful music.

I saw the most amazing violinist over the weekend: http://www.dbrmusic.com/dbr.htm I do some photography (pro bono of course) for a couple of local non-profits and the gig this weekend was to photograph this amazing musician and teacher: http://www.dbrmusic.com/dbr.htm Daniel Roumaine is a virtuoso on the violin, no question about that. But, he is so much more. He is a thoughtful, humorous and gifted instructor. Watching him put on two workshops with young people (ages 5 through late teens) was just a joy. He never condescended. He always challenged. And the kids always gave him more than they knew they had to give. What this world needs now is exactly what he has, a love for the process of education and the skill to do the job in such a profoundly uplifting way. Mr. Roumaine is returning to Oswego for a concert on March 21. He and two other composers are going to be playing their works as part of a program celebrating the Hudson River. I look forward to seeing, hearing and photgraphing him again. My photography is not the best, technically. Shit, it's not even close. My favorite subjects are musicians and dancers and I shoot in available light about 99% of the time. What I get are, literally, thousands of out-of-focus, underlit, crappy images. But, on the rare occasion when the gods of chiara-oscuro smile on me; well that's what makes it worthwhile. I'm going to try and put a few photos up with this (none from this weekend--I don't have releases from anyone). They will not be problematic as they will be mostly close-ups of hands and instruments or so blurred that they won't be recognizable. But I just want you to have the idea. If you're subject to motion sickness, take some dramamine. Otherwise, enjoy. The photos will be forthcoming. NB: The second photo was originally on film and when I looked at it the first time I said, "Shit, it's out of focus!". Then I looked at it again and said, "Oh, the microphone is sharp, everything else is moving, COOOOOOOOOOL!" Photo 1: Drums Along The Oswego--The Oswego Jazz Project Photo 2: Jason Quinn, former frontman for the "Blue Hornets"--This band included Jason (who has got a new CD out) and George McCann, an awesome guitar player who, last I heard was playing with James Montgomery. Photo 3: A short, but fiery guitarist (name escapes me) at Glen's Cool Grill and Hot Bar, Newburyport, MA. Photo 4: The sizzling hands of *****, former guitarist with ***** Joel.

One more shovelful of shit

Well, well, well: I actually had a really sweet post all set to go today. It featured unicorns--gay, pink unicorns--prancing about the blog and being oh, so droll. It was going to include a recipe for vodka enhanced buttermilk waffles with a belgian beer sauce. But, did that happen? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! That did not happen. And, why, you ask, the hell not? Well, it's because the other Gucci loafer dropped on the Commerce Sec'y imboglio. It now appears that ASSHOLE Judd Gregg had a reason, besides his unwillingness to sully hid idiotological purity, for turning down the job that Mr. Obama offered him. Seems he was investing money in the Portsmouth industrial park which was a former U.S. Airforce Base (Pease AFB) and a superfund site when it was closed some years back. This was being done while he was helping to steer millions of dollars to the former AB. He has made somewhere between a quarter and three quarters of a million bucks from his investments (through his brother's firm). Of course he says his conscience is clear. I doubt that he has a conscience. In any case, fuck him and all of his lying sacks of shit reptilican cronies. The unicorn post is in limbo, now. I'm sharpening the knives.

Constituent services

Re: My previous post on Assholes. The local paper ran an editorial on wednesday explaining why the GOP voted, in virtual lockstep, against the stimulus package. It was "partisan" of course, the author said, but it was more than that. In the finest tradition of representative government, the reptilican legislators were simply doing the job for which they were elected, voting their constituents' will on such matters. Now, aside from the fact that a lot of these ASSHOLES were elected by slim majorities--meaning that a lot of them were voting about half of their "constituents' will", there is another thing that needs to be talked about. That thing is that these ASSHOLES lie through their teeth. But, then of course, the credulous boobs that elected them in the first place always hear such lying as gospel truth and don't want the eeeeevil gubmint to confiscate their homes and businesses and send them all to labor camps so that the Obamanists can build atheist schools, open compulsory fetal abbatoirs, outlaw guns and make praying (not just in public, but privately) a felony. And they haven't even played the race card, YET. I was talking to a young fellow the evening before last, our local democratic party factotum. Nice guy, works for a living and does all the politicking on his own dime. He and I agree on one thing for sure; it ain't over. Folks who think that getting rid of Bushco was the "Win" are sadly mistaken. The GOP is a party that, at this point, is being run by a combination of political opportunists, corporatists and religious fundamentallyillists. They won't give up and there is nothing, no matter how foul, to which they will not stoop in the pursuit of their agendas. Am I paranoid? prolly. But that doesn't mean I'm wrong. A lot of people have been carping about some of Obama's appointments and also that Obama hasn't been reversing a lot of Bushco's policies. I'm not nuts about a lot of this stuff either. However, it's pretty plain to see that the GOP are willing to spike the stimulus package because it doesn't contain enough of the idiocy that got us into the situation we find ourselves in now. Of course, even though all but three of the GOP's members voted against the package they have been taking credit for "bringing home the bacon"--that's somehow different than pork? Lying fucking ASSHOLES. So, you know that the chances of making any substantive change in a lot of other stuff is going to have a snowball's chance in hell of getting done. I can't wait to see the GOP roll over on whoever Obama puts up for a SCOTUS seat. Oh, btw, Judd Gregg is still an ASSHOLE.

Assholes are as assholes do.

So, Okay, I've been listening to the people who know it all prove they don't know their ass from their elbow for at least the last couple of weeks. The reptilicans want the dems to play ball or they're gonna gum up the works? Good, fuck'em. Just make sure that they're names are spelled right when the shit hits the fan. As of today, Judd Gregg decided he'd "made a mistake" in accepting the offer to be Obama's Commerce Sec'y. In the first place it would appear that he's not being completely honest about the situation, in saying that he was "asked" and didn't seek the position--Obama himself said that Gregg seemed "eager". Secondly, I wouldn't bet that he didn't have an epiphany and realize "hey, wadeaminnit, I could be like, y'know a Jen-u-wine contender for the front desk! but not if I'm seen as a "sell out" to the Obamafascists! Yikes!!" Third, and this is most important to me--I'm glad he turned it down. Judd Gregg is a fucking asshole. He was an asshole son of a former governor of NH, an asshole U.S. Representative and has, since 1993 been an asshole U.S. Senator. When I lived in NH it was often difficult to choose between him and John Sununu the younger as to which was a bigger fucking asshole. He's a lying whanker and I hope this comes back to bite him in the ass when he starts complaining about how he and his party are not "adequately represented" in the current administration's group of advisers. Good riddance to bad trash. In other news it was quite warm and windy here in upstate NY today. I went to a wonderful art show, drank a couplea Bud's and met some nice folks. None of them were fucking assholes.

Since I don't got no teevee, I'm spared having to watch assholes like Tweety Matthews interview assholes like Mitch McConnell. It appears from the little intertubes synopses that I've seen that the GOP is going to do what they can to torpedo the stimulus bill. Well, anyone who expected them to do anything except continue to be the clueless fucks they've been since 1972 was in denial. During the eight years that Bushco had control of the WH and the six years that they controlled the courts and the congress the democrats were demonized as being unpatriotic, unamerican and uncaring for not voting for every bill that the reptilicans pushed out of committee. They were demonized for filibustering judicial nominees. Now, it appears those are exactly the strategies the GOP will employ to derail the stimulus and to stop Obama appointees from reaching the bench. Lying, fucking sacks of shit that they are the reptilicans of course are saying that this is all about "unnecessary spending" and not giving enough tax cuts to those who need them. It's past time for these scumbags to be pilloried for what they are. Traitors, plain and simple. They work against the interests of the United States and they should be called out for it. Roll call votes are necessary on every piece of legislation these assholes try to stop.

Things that spring, unbidden, into my head

Well, here it is almost 10 days into the Obama presidency and he has not been impeached--will wonders never cease. Between the forged birth certificate from HI; the deliberately botched oath of office (which was repeated, in secret--except for the reporters that were there), and the whole "Beyonce" thing, I would say that any credible news organization (Cue "FoxNEWS" music) will have more than enough ammo to bring down this "uppitelitistofascist". I hate to have to say this, because it seems so patently obvious to me, but this is not the time to stop worrying about the marginalized fuckheads who elected Bush to two terms. Some suggest that we should engage the members of the GOP who are reasonable. Sure, go ahead and do that. In the meantime do not let the asshats that equate Obama with the anti-KKKrist get a pass. Fuck "Kiss and make up". I wanta do a Norquist on the crazy bastards.

Delousing the White House

There has been a fair amount of rather dispiriting news over he last several weeks. Among other items, the nearly three week rampage by the zionists in Gaza, leaving destruction, death and hundreds or thousands of newly minted jihadists for Hamas and Al Queada to use as willing tools. There has also been a disturbing trend on the part of the democratic leadership in congress to say that now is not the time to investigate Bushco's eight year abuse of the powers of the presidency or to seek out and punish those guilty of crimes in that regard. Despite these and other items I remain hopeful that today's inauguration of President Barack Obama will signal the beginning of a return to something like sane foreign and domestic policy in this nation. One can only hope.

MLK, Freedom, democracy and FGF.

Next monday is MLK Day and the inauguration is in the same week? I'm surprised that the WH didn't try to move one or the other. I'm gonna try embedding these videos, if not at least the links. I guess it's gonna be the links. U2's "Pride" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=56mjwycKuXA&feature=related Leonard Cohen's, "Democracy" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OETwbVBPI1U and "Everybody Knows" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h27HRNm_r4U Well, maybe it ain't FGF for you, but it will sure as hell feel good when Bush has been consigned to the dustbin of history. Fuck Bush.

Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose.

It's fixin' to get cold here in Oswego. The cold weather that's been freezing the mid-west is due to arrive here late today or early tomorrow. I'm doing what I can to keep my incoming water supply from freezing (I'm building a 5 x 10 room in that corner of the cellar) and stuffing more skwerls into any gaps I can still see daylight through. I had dinner with friends last evening who offered me a place to sleep if things got too frigid here. I'll be okay. I was listening to NPR a bit ago and there was a piece on "Tell Me More" about the jailing and deportation of undocumented immigrants. It focused on Central Falls, R.I. It becomes apparent, listening to the reporter speaking, that the major issue in jailing and deporting these folks is that it provides federal monies to the state of R.I. which in turn gives the monies to the folks who run the facilities. It's disgusting that this is happening. We have a big ICE presence here in Oswego, but they don't seem to do a hell of a lot. All of this stuff got me to thinking about the homeless. I've spent several years of my life living in some pretty strange situations, but I've never been on the street. I CAN imagine not having someplace to call "home", but I've never experienced that situation where there is, literally, no place to lay down that is at least out of the weather. Surely we can do better than this.

Abstinence only works--NOT!

I don't have a lot of time to play with this at the moment, but the latest figures on teens having babies is showing an upward trend. This link: http://news.yahoo.com/nphotos/HOLD-RELEASE-UNTIL-830-AM-graphic-shows-teen-birth-rate/photo//090107/480/a1b8bc26badc48b892e2bed09c70df19//s:/ap/20090107/ap_on_he_me/med_teen_births is to just one of several stories out there, I'm sure. Of course the KKKristianreich is saying that the reason for the upturn is because of the fact that kids are still being taught about contraceptives. Sounds like bullshit to me, but then all of their other religiopalaver IS bullshit, so why would this be any different? People, kids especially, are gonna have sex, no matter what. If you keep them dumb, the barefoot and pregnant part are the other two legs of the KKKristian Population Outtacontrol Quiverful Program. I gotta run, more rant later.

a good profile, demo; now turn and face the camera--and hold the sign up so's we can read the numbers!

I think this will be short. I am still somewhat incapacitated from a fall on New Year's Eve (not attributable to alcohol--damn the luck!) and have been spending the last few days trying to make some sort of order out of the 200G or so of photo files that I had on 4 separate hard drives. I was able to pick up a 250G Seagate Free Agent (my bro works in HD development there and he said I made a good score at $52.50). I've been moving files from the other hard drives and deleting the extraneous document copies, etc.,. I just wonder how much of the stuff that I keep on my "box" is attributable to a desire to save records and how much is attributable to the familial "packrat" gene. My dear mother used to keep a daily journal of what she did, where she went, how much she spent and so forth. She kept it longhand (beautiful cursive script) in steno notebooks. I have no idea how many of the things she went through but I do know that, for her, to throw anything away was next to impossible. I gave her a set of salt and pepper shakers in 1970 (I got them while stationed in Germany) and when I was eating dinner at her house one day, several years later, asked if she still had them. "Oh, yes," she said, "I treasure them." I asked where they were. She told me that she kept them with her fine china (she had a set of Spode and another of Limoges, IIRC) which she also, NEVER USED! She thought they were far too valuable to ever be entrusted to the grubby mitts of her brood. The summer before she passed, while I was home on a visit she told me that she had been putting things aside and told me the salt & pepper set was in a box with my name on it. I told her that I appreciated the gesture but that I woud prefer she give them to one of my siblings as I would simply lose them. She was okay with that. She also had a package for me, in a large manila envelope. It included photos of her and my dad on her wedding day, photos of my dad in India--and his unit patch, done on leather--from his days in the USAAF during WWII, my natal photo (from St. Joe's hospital), various photos of me and my older and younger siblings, my class photos from every year I'd had one taken, my AF photos and every single birthday card, letter and postcard I had ever sent her. It was not anything like the sort of pile that several of my siblings had, but I was astonished that she had kept everything for so many years. I still pull out that envelope from time to time and I feel her presence in those moments. Several years ago I wrote a song, "Kodak Moment" about the experience of viewing those photos and the memories that they awakened. I will share it one of these days when I have the time, energy and requisite knowledge to record it and put it up on this blog or elsewhere. Well, I guess it was not as short a post as I was thinking it would be.

Not quite the resume I was thinking I'd have

So, I got tagged by no blood for hubris (http://nobloodforhubris.blogspot.com/2008/12/and-now-for-something-completely_29.html) and I am supposed to make a list of my jobs, all of them. I don't know how chronlogical it's gonna be, but here goes. paperboy (route carrier) Omaha World Herald. busboy. cook, prep cook KFC & Chicken Delight. warehouseman, Sears Roebuck. Inventory Mgmt Specialist, USAF waiter, bartender. counterman, power and hand tool sales and service. clerk, buyer and salesman, industrial supplies. inside sales, applications "engineer", power transmission components (bearings, belts, motors, etc. home improvement contractor. directory assistance operator. clerk, state regulatory activities, Verizon, Public Policy and External Affairs. working on my freakin' house. I've also been a photographer for about 25 years, but never really make any money at it (although it pays much better than writing poetry!).

12 Days of Christmas? Yeah, I got your 12 Days, right here!

Good morning: Well, since I haven't had time to write my 2008 Christmas letter you'll be getting to read a retread. Maybe I'll get the other one done if some other projects get fininshed. If not, well, we'll always have 2002! ________________________________________________ December 19, 2002 Dear Family and Friends; Seasons Greetings. I know that all of you are doing last minute shopping and gift wrapping (a complete list of my sizes, color and fabric preferences and web addresses for all the gift registries I have signed up for is attached). I’m also sure that since you have families and invite people to your homes you’re stuck with having to do a lot of cooking, cleaning and decorating for the holidays. As for myself , I do my best holiday celebrating on the move: just look out your window, I’m pulling up in front of your house as you read this! I don’t even want to talk about politics this year as, well, we just got our butts kicked and can never hold our heads up again (oh, wait, that was my Cornhusker’s speech!). In any event I wanted to share with all of you a cautionary tale about how those who lose track of the true meaning of this holiday season will rue their bitter, empty lives. And so it goes… A Christmas Carol for 2002 (Ms. Stewart wanted to call it a Christmas Martha until we explained that it wasn’t named for a woman) We open on a scene of shattered domestic bliss in the master bedroom of a palatial Manhattan townhome, bedecked with every manner of ornament and decoration appropriate to the season. and yet, something is amiss. Martha lies abed, tossing and turning. Hers is a lonely life in these troubled days. Stock in her eponymous empire is in free-fall; a chorus of market regulators, congressional investigators, various state’s attorneys general, and the public-at-large call for her to be jailed, fined or; God forbid, forced to live in their meanly narrow lifestyles. Her old, dear friend, Sam Waksal (that rat-bastard, lying weasel) has involved her in his own contretemps regarding the Imclone scandal and has largely succeeded in deflecting attention towards her: she is such a convenient target! Finally, she drops off into a fitful sleep, filled with fevered dreams, nightmares of living like everyone else. Suddenly, at the foot of her bed, who should appear but the Spirit of Christmas Past (who looks suspiciously like Trent Lott!) to warn her of impending doom. Martha is carried back to her youth. Born Martha Kostyra to parents of 2nd generation Polish-Americans, she spent her early years in suburban Nutley, NJ (which exit is that?). The Spirit in a winding sheet (looking more like Trent with each passing moment!) invites her to stand at the table while her Christmas Past family enjoys their holiday repast of pierogi, guamki, red cabbage, bread with fresh lard and borscht—followed by Kolachis for dessert. This cheery scene is replete with evidence of Martha’s early forays into event planning and decorating. Working with pipe cleaners, egg cartons, dixie cups, paper towel roll cores and library paste young Martha could fashion an entire Christmas Scene right down to the baby Jesus giggling in delight as the Three Wise Men made Frosty the Snowman and Mary mixed up a batch of spicy Mogen David gluhwein for the festive occasion. We fast forward now, several years, to see Martha as a teenager. Already recognized as a prodigy by her High School Home Economics teacher, she is in charge of tree trimming, interior and exterior displays, gift wrapping, holiday communications (Christmas Cards, party invitations, Letters to Santa and thank you notes) for her school as well as catering several civic and private functions (once again library paste comes in handy—as an inspired choice for a last minute thickener for sauces and gravies). Additionally, as a volunteer consultant to the Nutley, NJ Department of Public Works, she assists in the planning, siting and construction of the Manger Scene (complete with paid actors and live animals) that is such a resounding success in downtown Nutley. Ah, but there’s a rub. It seems that Martha has, much as the cuckoo in nature, pushed her siblings out of the nest. Her five brothers and sisters have been put up with neighbors or relatives as one by one they are shouldered aside to make way for the various accoutrement of Martha’s chosen profession. In a final break with any semblance of familial conviviality Martha caters her own wedding, charging her parents such an exorbitant price (although it is, admittedly, a fair value) for the reception that they are forced to sign their home over to her as a means of payment. Her guide gazes at her dolefully, in silent accusation. “No, no!” cries Martha, “I was only trying to be graceful in a graceless world. Where’s the harm in that?”. The Ghost of Christmas Past merely shakes his head , sadly, and fades from view… Martha jerks bolt upright in her pencil-post, Gambian lacewood bed and shivers beneath her eider quilt. “Wow, what a wild, wild ride,” she thinks, “that’s the last time I have three eggnogs with Hennessy XO just before bedtime.” But then, just as she is ready to adjust her buckwheat hull pillow and drift back into dreamland, she notices a troll at the foot of her bed. “Who are you!!!?”, she shrieks. “I am ze ghozt of Chrizmaz Prezent.” murmurs the apparition, in a voice uncannily similar to Henry Kissinger’s. “But, But what are you doing here in my room?”, she whimpers. “Vell,” he says, “I vaz zuppozed to have ziz gig on a fact finding commizzion, but zey zaid I had a conflict of integrity or zomezing like zat. Zo, here I am, your perzonal imparzial obzerver. Let’z go for a ride” Martha makes a very short trip through time to four o’clock in the afternoon of the following day. It’s a huge party. No expense has been spared (it is, after all 100% tax deductible). All is in readiness for the fete. A beautiful Bristlecone Pine, named Methuselah, believed, at the age of 4,767 years, to be the world’s oldest living tree has been lovingly chopped down, flown in from high atop the Inyo mountains of California, festooned with garlands of cymbidium and onsidium orchids, draped with hand drawn sterling silver and 24 kt gold tinsel, lit with nearly a thousand beeswax tapers and covered with hundreds of blown glass ornaments and a stunning tree topper that utilizes in its design a recently discovered Faberge Egg. The linen is measured in acres; there are gardens of flowers; orchards of fruit; herds, gaggles, flocks and prides of various beasts, sizzling on spits, roasting in ovens, bubbling in stews. Sideboards groan with a surfeit of sweetmeats and tender victuals. Hogsheads of imported ales, casks of the finest wines, jereboams of Veuve Cliqout; dusty, dusky bottles of cognac and port that were laid down when Napoleon was but an overweening prat of a Corsican Corporal. All is in readiness: the doors to the great hall are flung wide and slam against the outer wall, creating a booming echo in the unpeopled silence. Martha is distraught, inconsolable. Does no one love her ? (Jeez, what an idiotic question—Hello!), will none sup with her on this blessed holiday? Has she been forsaken by all? (those same craven suitors who once longed for her merest nod, her benediction, her bons mots, “It’s a good thing”.) But no, what is this, the shade of the Nobel Whiner has pulled open a drawer to reveal the root of the travail. “It zeemz, Martha, you have forgotten to mail ze friggin invitationz. You vere zo caught up in your cheezy zhtock zhwaps and Imclone machinationz zat you committed a faux paz of epic proportionz”. Martha faints dead away. By now our heroine, having endured two horrific nocturnal visits is nearly out of her mind from sleep deprivation (it will takes weeks—and repeated applications of chamomile and lousewort masks to remove the facial puffiness) and scared nearly witless. But her ordeal is not yet at an end. Once more she awakes to find a fearsome specter at her elbow—this time it’s none other than Jacko, the Gloved One himself. The two moonwalk their way into the not too distant future where Martha suddenly finds herself in a shockingly loud, International Orange, “relaxed fit” jumpsuit and realizes that the room she’s in is not a closet, or a bathroom (although it does have a sleek, stainless-steel toilet bolted to the floor). It’s her home for the foreseeable future, a 6 x 10 cell in the maximum security block at Ossining, NY. Gone the toothsome viands of yesteryear, absent the sumptuous furnishings and appointments of her previous life. In their place, a rude, plebian table. A functional, unfashionable wardrobe. And there on the table, where the silver glove points, an oft creased and stained piece of paper, with that same precise, wonderfully cursive hand. A Christmas menu, to whit: Salsiccon de Bologna Fricassee au Pain Wonder, avec Pommes de terre du bebe et Legumes gris.* (Fried baloney sandwiches on Wonder Bread with Tater Tots and canned vegetables) “Is this my end?”, she shrieks, “Is this how it must be? Oh, please, I beg of you, just one more chance, just one more chance, just one more….. Slowly, as if rising from a great depth Martha swims to the the surface of conciousness; realizes she is still in her comfortable bed, in her lovely apartment in the Greatest City on Earth. She rushes to the window and flings it open. Drinking in the beauty that is Central Park West she spies an urchin walking with head down into the wind and calls down to him. “You there, young man. Go to Balducci’s on 11th and get me a 30 pound free range goose, some foie gras and a few bottles of Dom Perignon. We’ll have a wonderful Christmas dinner, just you and I and two or three score producers, prep and prop people, publicists and assorted hangers on. No, on second thought wait right there.” Dressing quickly in a well worn pair of keds, pedal pushers and a threadbare, “ I’M WITH STUPID” sweatshirt, Martha runs down the stairs and out the door past the startled concierge. “C’mon kid,” she says “I think today is a perfect day for a breakfast of Twinkies and RC Cola!”. Thus ends Martha’s plight as she returns to a simpler, less avaricious and less contentious lifestyle. In later years it is hoped that Martha will relax her standards to the point where she can retire to a double wide in a mobile home park in Dade County, Florida; fashion clothing, accessories and home furnishings from various food and beverage containers; spend her sunset years watching HSN, WWF and the Weather Channel; learn how to make a really tasty possum fajita and live happily ever after. There, now; that wasn’t so bad, was it? Actually, this idea was batted around by several of the cable channels, but Martha wanted to be involved in all aspects of the production—from storyboarding to smorgasbording and it just ain’t gonna happen. My life is good, I’m staying near the lifeboats just in case, but so far we are all still afloat here at the Real Phone Company (Verizon). I was able to get to my 35th High School Reunion this past summer. I think this will probably be the last one where we go up and down the stairs or wear shoes that aren’t white. I had a lot of fun trying to remember who my classmates were or where I live. Lucky you, I’m out of paper (print version). Happy Holidays, all the best in 2003. Love, Peace, Prosperity and Blessings * Okay, so my frenglish is tres excreable, sue moi.

First day of winter, my ass!

Well, here we are, December 21st, the winter solstice when the weather turns cold and we can expect snow. That would be COLDER and MORE SNOW in my case. It's snowing sideways at the moment and the temp is hovering around 19 degrees. The forecast through tuesday calls for 14-27 inches of snow, depending upon how much you've pissed GOD off by being non-KKKristian. I think I'm gonna get buried. The news on the economic front continues to get worse. I'm almost thankful that I am not, statistically, unemployed. I'm less thankful that I am, not statistically but literally, not generating any income. Getting a job would be a good idea if there were any to get. The state of NY, just like every other state, is looking for ways to save money and increase revenues so they will be cutting school budgets and raising fees for all sorts of things. I think that the net effect of such measures is counter productive but they're not asking for my input at the Governor's office. Bush is just as clueless on the economy as he has been on the war and everything else. And yet, there are still people that think he will be remembered as a good president. That's not just a "Jones" that's a "Jonesville Jones". Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to go get my winter coat out of the traps.

The burning in the Alaskan "bush"

Good morning: I have been busy trying to stuff newspapers in those cracks that were still letting in Ol' Man Winter (and were too small for the frozen squirrels that fit the larger openings) and in getting ready for the holidays--I'm working on a special "seasonal gruel" that includes some of those same critters! However, I have been absent from my duties here at the blog (your good fortune) and a week old bit of news has caught my attention: Now, I'm not a fan of burning churches (regardless how odious, depending on their beliefs or adherents, I consider them to be) but this particular fire, much like the one in Westboro Baptist Church leader Fred Phelps' garage seems deliciously ironic. Of course, since it was an arson job (at least it is being investigated as such by the local fire department) speculation abounds as to it's perpetrator(s). While various reichwing websites and blogs are pushing the meme that it was set by militant gays--It takes an army of village people to raze a church?--some other folks have suggested that it might be an act of GOD or maybe an act of Sarah the ImPalinator to extend her 15 minutes of fame. I don't know about any of that. But this was my comment over at Ed Brayton's "Dispatches from the culture wars" blog (http://scienceblogs.com/dispatches/2008/12/palins_church_burns_blame_the.php): _______________________________________________________________________________ Ed: There are times when the evidence is right there in front of us; to wit, the WSB's weekly schedule: Friday, December 12, 2008 5:00 PM--Potluck dinner (menu includes, harpseal terrine, narwhal tartare, saddle of airsniped wolf and lime jelloil mold) 6:00 PM--Witch Whackin' Workshop with the Rev. John Muthee 7:00 PM--Speakin' In Tongues Gospel Karaoke 8:30 PM--Joel's Army, Kristian Kadet Korps--an exciting demonstration of the U.S. Army's M2A1-7 flamethrower, bring the s'mores! ____________________________________________________________________________ Just to be perfectly clear, I don't hate christians, but I sure as hell dislike KKKristians and there are far too many of them using their "religion" as both sword and shield to push their fucked-up, hate filled agendas. They had better hope that the GOD they profess to believe in is a more tolerant deity than they depict him as.

Hubris has a new name, FoMoCo.

Well, I'm a guy who owns a Ford Ranger. Almost 9 years of relatively trouble free service and I might be inclined to buy another one, if I had any requirement or money for one. Until today. That's when I got the following e-mail: ____________________________________________________________________________ Dear Member, I appologize for this email. I don't normally email the members but this is an emergency. Today, (December 9, 2008) I received a letter from the law offices of Howard, Phillips & Andersen that represent the Ford Motor Company. Ford is forcing us to surrender the name 'therangerstation.com' to them and stop using it. Ford states that using the name 'Ranger' when used in reference to the Ford Ranger is a trademark violation. In addition they are wanting me to pay them $5,000. As you may know, The Ranger Station has been around for the past 10 years and has been a valuable resource to Ranger enthusiasts. If Ford does this to us, where will they stop? I have 10-days to surrender the name and pay them $5,000. I'm asking that you contact Ford online and ask them to reconsider making us change our name and prohibiting us from using the word 'Ranger'. You can contact them at: https://secure.ford.com/footer/contact-ford/contact-us-email?contactMainTopic=PublicAffairs a sample of what one of the members wrote is: "To whom it may concern: I am writing concerning your recent legal attacks on various "fan" websites for vehicles such as the Mustang and Ranger. I am insulted by this careless misuse of our legal system and am reconsidering any further vehicle purchases from your company until you cease and desist from any further legal action concerning this subject. I have been a Ford owner for many years and I had hoped to stay that way. These attacks are morally wrong since they are geared towards your customers, and do not instill the least bit of confidence in your brand. For the sake of your business, I ask you to please reconsider immediately. Thank you." Thank you for your support and I applogize for this email. Jim Oaks TheRangerStation.com ____________________________________________________________________________ Jesus on a pogo stick aerating a golf course--is FoMoCo completely fucking clueless or what? a couplea couplets for the suits at FoMoCo. Brains of sawdust, ears of tin; Stupid is your major sin. hearts of stone and balls of brass. Mullaly, you can kiss my ass. Check this out, over at Jim Voorhies blog. http://jimvoorhies.com/index.php What a buncha fukin' idiots. Feel free to send any or all of this to your new, improved congressional delegations. UPDATE @ 7:43 P.M. 12/11/08 Jim at TheRangerStation informed me that he and Ford had reached an accomodation and asked that I put that information out here. Done. I hope he's through having ot screw around with those guys. Now if we could just have an effect on those assholes @ Sony and RIAA.

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Yep; it's about that cold. It's not the cold so much as the wind and the "wintry mix" as they like to call it--snow, sleet, hail, drizzle, freezing rain, locusts, frogs, wombats and some other nasty critters from the Sargasso Sea--okay, I was kidding about the drizzle. Winter is getting an early start here in Oswego. We've had snow about four or five days in a row, now. With the sub-freezing (near zero overnight) temps of the last several days it's been nasty. I've still got part of the house that has no membrane over the sheathing--old, drafty, plank sheathing--and it's right on the wall of my bedroom. That would have been taken care of by now, but I've been unable to do a lot of physical stuff that I used to breeze through. That'll teach me to live a dissolute life while young! Fair warning, I'm working on my Earlywinter Feast Letter. Those of you to whom I haven't sent one in the past? well, your luck has run out.

One ringy-dingy

Good Morning, Class: democommie is exceedingly pissed off at the moment, at AOL. I used their "free" intro period once, about a year and a half ago. I found out that it sucked and immediately discontinued it. Six months later I found out they were extracting money from my credit card account every month. I complained. Their response boiled down to "too fucking bad". No refund, a letter saying that, at my request they had closed the account. Now, admittedly, I'm sometimes not as diligent as I need to be, but here it is a year later and I find out they're still hitting me up for the monthly fee. Of course the letter they sent me is filed, somewhere in the storage unit, I hope. I called my credit card company and they said, "Well, we can cancel your card and issue you a new one, which you will receive in 7-10 business days." WTF? It used to be that if you lost a card or had it stolen they would have you a new one in 36 hours or less. So, my choices are to a.) dispute the bill every month or b.) take a chance on not having that credit card to use for two to three weeks (7-10 business days). The telecoms and internet providers, imo, are nothing but a bunch of fucking thieves (I'm talking about management, not the poor schlubs that have to work for the bastards). I currently use my fomer employer's services (they suck too). I was told, when I signed up for the service that the basic, basic, basic phone and DSL internet package would be $24.99 a month. Well, with the "taxes" and various add on fees, it's actually about $43. I was just looking at doing something different when this contract expires. TW wants something like $75/month and on Windstream's site it is practically impossible to figure out pricing. Is it just me or does something like $500-1000/annum seem like an awful lot of fucking money for phone and internet? Forget cable, it's through the roof. There is some talk that congress is going to look into cable pricing. I'll not hold my breath for that one. WTF is Ernestine (Lily Tomlin) when you need her?

If you kill it, clean it and cook it, I will come.

I went to a "Hunter's Dinner" on saturday night. It was seven courses, as follows: Course One: Pan seared Grouper with curry sauce salsify and Jerusalem artichokes. Course Two: Sauteed frogs' legs with oyster mushrooms. Course Three: Smoked Pheasant salad with arugula and melon radish; lingonberry vinaigrette. Course Four: Ragu of Rabbit. Course Five: Grilled Wild Boar Sausage with onion and fennel confit. Course Six: Bison rib-eye with Enoki mushroom; poivrade sauce. Course Seven: Elk stew and celery root slaw. Each course was served with a different wine; four whites, three reds. It was a tasting menu, basically; and a good thing, it was still a lot of food. I tried to do like my friend Claudia over at "cook, eat, Fret" (http://www.cookeatfret.com) and take photos of all of the dishes; I failed miserably--well, not really miserably, I was quite happy to be derelict in that regard. I do have a few photos, they are in bass/ackwards order. The puff pastry encloses Elk Stew. The second photo is Ragu of Rabbit. The third is Smoked Pheasant Salad and the last is WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY better than chicken. This evenings dinner was simpler fare. I made a nice stew with some top round, onions, carrots, celery, garlic (lots of garlic), diced tomato, some more garlic, black beans, corn, peas and acorn squash. Had that with some delicious Two Buck Chuck Chardonnay and the dinner movie is "Eat, Drink, Man, Woman". Now if only I had someone to rub my temples, peel me some grapes and give me an epidural cortisone shot for my sciatica I would be ever so happiery. Still, life's been good to me, so far.

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.

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: http://scienceblogs.com/dispatches/2008/11/dunbar_tries_to_backpeddle.php 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.

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

Zoomin'!

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.

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.

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 (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/don-mcnay/max-clelands-chance-for-r_b_142365.html). 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!

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.

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

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

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.

VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE.VOTE. I know, it seems redundant but I want to make sure you vote at least once!

HOPE, is not a four letter word

Good morning, my preciouses: I went to a concert last evening and heard David Roth http://www.davidrothmusic.com/index1.html 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: http://whitenoiseinsanity.com/2008/11/02/real-hockey-mom-kicks-sarah-palins-ass-video-included/#respond