Tuesday, June 28, 2016

The Many Faces of Pretend Everything

What a season this is.   Now I get what "season of the witch" must be.  We got season of the witch bitch, crossover gaynation, all up in your business champion politicians, and you actually think I am more afraid of their lunatic than I am yours?  Not likely.

I'm the guy who is OK with people owning rocket launchers, fighter jets, and any vehicle the SWAT team might possess.  When it becomes a thing, where people manage to sick the SWAT team on innocent friends or enemies, causing doors to be broken in, and people cuffed on the floor until they figure out that no one has done anything to warrant a military-style assault on private citizens, then I wonder if the country is hopeless.  Not that I see any better alternatives.
This photo was directly stolen from Doug Lawson of FB, and JS back in the old days.  I hope he doesn't get mad.  Of course I would take it down if asked.  I can not think of a better photo for the times, but that is my sense of humor.  or not.  He's the glue holding Canada together.  Doing a heck of job, too.

Why people have decided it is chic to deny all that is unique and good about the U.S., while bashing it based on standards which seem to never be applied to the rest of the world.  More convenient history and histrionics.

I find what is going on, politically, to be incredibly embarrassing and sad.  Really, only embarrassing in that when I listen to these people speak, I cringe.  I do.  I also see through the very slick deceptions and diversions.  Always at the top of the democratic tool chest is the ridicule gambit.  Make fun of the opponent.  Imply always that only a psychopath would vote for your opponent.  That is because your candidate is psycho.

That is the thinking.  I'm just really surprised how easily everyone has slipped into an adolescent style popularity war.   Seriously.  Of course each side pretends otherwise, and may believe otherwise.  I think it is because they are so married to their team and candidate, that facts take a back seat.  Reality sometimes has to be ignored, apparently.

I can't take hearing the voice of any presidential candidate.  Seriously, I don't want to listen to Donald or Hillary.  I have no idea what is the real deal with Trump.  And I do believe Hillary may lean a little toward the psycho side of the playground.  I think she's more psychopath than is Trump.  Trump is less easy to read, I think.   I've heard all the various opinions, but they don't ring quite 100% true.  Maybe close, but not there.

Gary Johnson is the last candidate I heard who did not trigger my vomit reflex.   Libertarian.  I don't even care what anyone has to say about any of it right now.  I'd be making a play for the decade widow in another state, but I see a facebook tendency to post koolaid memes.   She's friends with part of my nephew's extended family.

I love them all, but where they took the odd turn I do not know.  But I'll bet the vast majority of my family is in the camp I gleefully label, "Neo-Bolsheviks".

Any more, I am not so clear on the whereabouts of certain lines and limits.   It seems like you are paying a lot of my insurance, but the reality is that I could probably save money if I did the whole thing out of pocket.  My premiums amount to more than I am spending in medical services.  Insurance is coming out way ahead.  I was hoping that he youth,  "our youth" as so many are fond of saying, would bear the cost of my old age and lack of resources.

We must consider what kind of world we are leaving for our children.  I would best be able to consider this important issue if "our children" would provide me with a nice pension and a fine house on the ocean or in Silverton or Montrose.   Teaching future generations generosity and compassion is best done by allowing them the thrill of supporting us, providing us with all we need to have a blast forever, and treating any sacrifices they may make as the least they could do for the cause.

I'll get to the real point in another post.

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


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