Sunday, September 4, 2011

Advertising Conspiracy Unveiled

For some time I have harbored a resentment against Dodge commercials and those to whom they appeal. Truth be known, I actually have a minor grudge working against Dodge drivers in general, with a few exceptions.

Even more than BMW motorists, they seem to resist any urge to exercise common courtesy and good sense on highways and in parking lots. Upon purchase the new Dodge owner is brainwashed to believe he is invincible and all powerful, and on a mission to stamp the mark of the Ram into rear view mirrors everywhere.

The BMW owner is usually hypnotized into believing he is superior to all, and that other drivers are inferior and have no right to soil his view of the road, the parking space or the world at large. They certainly rate no common courtesy. Like I said, there are exceptions--not everyone is susceptible to hypnosis or brain washing.

Now I suspect that those who make Dodge commercials which are rife with subliminal messages which appeal to a particular demographic now make Dove-for-men commercials. There are too many similarities for the keen observer to ignore. I shudder to think what may be next. We must find this agency and discover the other mind control plots they may be weaving before it is too late.

Other, less aggressive brain control in advertising exists. Of that I am sure. I, myself, have escaped such mental enslavement. Fortunately, my path to becoming a Subaru owner was through research and need, not advertising.

Otherwise, I would be saying prayers to Mother Earth and seeking a sex change so I could become a lesbian. That would require much saving and sacrifice because I would be giving my monthly tithe to one of Al Gore's carbon offset schemes.

I'd be paying Al to change the weather before paying rent or doctor bills. For one to own a Forester and do otherwise is unthinkable to those who've undergone the usual mind warp these sorcerer run ad agencies cast upon the unsuspecting.

So, I guess I am lucky. Sex changes involve much money time and, I am guessing, pain. First we need to thwart the evil Dove and Dodge advertising masterminds. Later, maybe we hit Subaru, although there are worse fates than the one described above for Forester owners. At least it holds a bit of prurient fascination.

Not Often One for Quotes, But This is Relevant

"None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free" -- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

This is something worth looking at. I'll not elaborate upon my view of who and what strive to manipulate us to see slavery as freedom.


It was 99 deg F today in some parts of my general area. Maybe a little cooler up on Ballistic Mountain. But hot is hot, and it was hot. I decided to go to the overlook off of I-8 to make a phone call and generally get away from myself.

I'd been there awhile, I guess, and when I tried to start the car, the battery did not have enough energy to do the job. Yikes, I'd been sitting there with radio on, key in accessory position and headlights on. I'm thinking I may have had my foot on the brake as well, which means the brake lights were drawing current.

Good thing I had my trusty booster battery/air compressor. Not such a good thing that it wasn't fully charged and wouldn't do the trick.

As luck would have it, a guy in a Lexus had pulled in nearby and walked over to see what was up. He once had a subaru forester and loved it. OK. We had something in common.

Mr. Lexus seemed to have a fear of bees, though. These little wasps or bees were buzzing all around. He was trying to eat a sandwich and left almost half of it sitting on its wax paper on the wall there because these pests were attracted to it and he was afraid of being stung and eaten alive by bees.

I am unusually NOT afraid of wasps and bees. I have no idea why. Almost all other creatures scare me more than I like to admit. Anyway, I went over and did what I could to terrorize the creatures but Mr L no longer wanted the sandwich. There is no trash there, so I produced a trash bag and dealt with it.

He must have been grateful because he let me charge my booster battery off the 12 volt outlet in his car. After about ten minutes I tried successfully to start the car using the booster battery. His generosity saved me a lot of trouble.

I say payback because I have used that booster to jump maybe two cars and definitely one motorcycle at that very spot. Not sure if I used the pump to inflate anyone's tires there, although I know I have in other places, like Descanso. It was pretty cool that when I was in need, the help was right there with no waiting at all. And I got to explain my theory of how one shows bees who is boss and induces them to spread the word.

He was given the very cryptic abridged version.

I did refrain from sharing the story of my first war with yellow jackets on Morrow Mountain in NC. They were beginning to annoy me and really freaking out others that day, many years ago when I was in my early twenties. Finally I managed to kill a few by hand and with a rock. I managed to secure their dead bodies to the ends of little sticks and posted them between my rightful turf and theirs. I saved one to toss right to the edge of their domain as a warning.

Those yellow jackets did not torment anyone within a 30 foot radius of me for the rest of the afternoon. Of course the witnesses to this were convinced I was out of my mind, so they, too, avoided any conflict or contact, with me and my friends. It wasn't as if I'd snuffed some of them and staked them up. People can be so judgmental and cruel.

I was not one of those mean looking overaged punks, so it hurt my feelings just a bit. Even my friends were a little concerned that I would bring on the wrath of the wasps, and feared for my sanity. Seems like some girl among us was on my side and knew I was king of the bees. Back then I think the support of females was much more evident in my life than it has been in the last far too many years.

Anyway. I have had bee battles since then and have had my way with the bad bees. Good bees I salute and bid them go in peace. Wish I had such confidence with bears, raccoons and other snarly mammals.

At least I got the car started and managed to get home without incident. I have to do something to make it cooler in here while we experience our dry, hot, hot season.

Payback was not a bitch in this instance, but a man in a Lexus, and rather pleasant.

Maybe Mexico

The health care situation in this country has changed. Not because of too little government involvement and non-sense, but because of too much. That is my view.

We can thank the trial lawyers and John Edwards for much of the non-sense. Another case in which charlatans who spout drivel about being there to fight for the little guy actually make life more difficult for those very people, and pretty much everyone else.

If I were to go to the doctor, they'd want to do probably three times more tests than are warranted, plus some, just to cover themselves. So, being a cash guy, I won't go. Maybe I should go somewhere in Mexico where cash means something and the rules can be bent toward my own wishes.

Isn't that bizarre? People flock to the third world because they don't have the freedom to do what they want at home.

So, now I have dizziness, a rash which may be unrelated, and just now, for the first time in my life, a nose bleed. That didn't last long, but it was a big surprise. This keeps up and the car may not get signed over. I'll just drive it off into the sea or into the abyss. Oh wait, I can't be starting any fires so no local abyss for the car.

I'll bet there are fewer noisy, pushy third world urchins in Mexican waiting rooms than there are in US clinics and emergency rooms. Yes, I am a bigot and a snob.

I hate pushy people who sneeze, cough and sweat on you. Like it or not, some cultures are way more pushy as far as not allowing an inch of personal space. In fact almost all other cultures, other than the America we've all been taught to hate and despise, and their northern european predecessors who we also despise if we are politically correct. I love it when the wannabes, like Michael Moore, pretend to hate that which they are in an effort to gain favor with others and convince them they are not what they are. Mike and three quarters of famous people in Hollywood fit that bill.

OK. I'm being punished for being so down on California goof balls, and that is why my nose is now the mouth of the Red River.

Comedians are Haters

It is not hard to notice that comedians convert rage and anger into rants designed to make you laugh. Very few of them are not visibly angry and kind of hostile. The type of people who would be rude and selfish in public.

I'm not even funny, but I see myself lost for things to write other than semi hostile tirades against the character of Californians or who knows what. Why am I so restless?

It may be because I know I am getting older, I'm disappointed in myself on every level, and I have no one right here whose interests I can put above my own. If I see that I am going to become a bitter old man, I'll sign my car over to whoever I think needs it most, take care of a few more items, and go do a swan dive in the Grand Canyon or other fine place.

You think I joke. I do not. Perhaps if I join a commune of some kind I will socialize better and feel less cranky and critical. Maybe not.

At least I have an excuse to try to clean up things a bit since there will be out of towners passing through and I want to put on a good face. Maybe even conduct a tour. We'll see.

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Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
Like spring on a summer's day


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