Friday, May 31, 2013

Mountain Lion Update

Fish and wildlife visited the site of the goat massacre and confirmed that it was indeed a mountain lion attack.  They found tracks in the area which indicate a mama and cub.

So far they haven't arrested the goat owner for making it hard for the cougar by placing the goat behind a seven foot fence.  That would be par for the course in SoCal, or California altogether.  Few people here tend to recognize the balance when it comes to human survival vs questionable leeway enforced for critters.

They either hate people and think we've invaded the land of bears and squirrels, therefore we should all die.   Or they don't care and would be perfectly happy littering, riding the bumper of the car in front, and shooting anything that moves.  That latter group is mostly transient from the south.

If for any reason I was threatened by a mountain lion and was lucky enough to kill it, I would not notify the authorities for fear of reprisal.  I'm watching for them, though, because it would be cool to see the killer cats cruising through my back yard, which is the Cleveland national forest.

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Good News, Bad News, Nature Bullying Again

The good news:  Elected officials in Congress are finally calling for abolishing the IRS, and instituting a simple tax, maybe like the Fair Tax, or a flat tax.

The bad news:  The most vocal on abolishing the IRS are Republican, which means every hard core progressive and Democrat is going to oppose it.

The only real reason people in either party would oppose abolition is because the IRS is like a police force with no rules, and they can influence where it wreaks its wrath.  They want that tool of political coercion, or else they fear it and won't stand up to it because if they lose, the agency can easily cost them plenty.

Of course, tax attorneys would be opposed.  Most lawyers oppose anything that simplifies laws because they make money when regular people have to hire a translator to even get what the law says, and a soothsayer to determine whether they are in compliance.

Even under the fair tax people will trade some under the table, so the few lucky attack dogs that they still need will have opportunity for their sadism fix by going after those enterprising scofflaws.

Let's hope they don't manage to abolish the IRS, then turn around and have Homeland Security hound out those who might think about not cutting the feds in on transactions.  The IRS evolved into a terror agency and Homeland Security is more than poised to fill any power void that changing the tax system would bring.  

It is about power.  Yet this country attempted to establish itself based on severely limiting just such power.  Those who promote it either think the are part of the elite who wields the power or influences officials, or they think if they do everything right no one will bother them.

I suppose that will work for some time if you are a jelly fish.  Sooner or later even good little citizens tend to say something unpopular, or want a larger soda, or who knows what.  Then they wonder what happened.  They happened.

When my stomach feels like iron, I'll go check the talking points on this at moveon.org or huffington post.  I'm sure they'll be against undoing the IRS because it comes from the other side.  And smashing the other side is more important than right or wrong.  Go team.

It would be so cool if a lot of people from both sides realized it is time to squash IRS, which operates without warrants or accountability.  It is in the top three of disgraces this nation has tolerated which defy its stated principles.   Taxing income is a bad idea anyway.  Enforcing this practice by means of an organization with few clear limits and a tendency toward vendetta is a very bad idea.

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;
Holy smoke!!! Just read an email from the neighborhood info people.   A mountain lion ate someone's goat, up the mountain from me.  Not very far.  It hopped a 7 foot chain link fence.  They say there are 2 lions in the general area, and claim the goat one is four feet high?  Five feet long, excluding the tail.

I just find the four feet tall part tough to believe.  It doesn't sound right but maybe the top of his head is there if he's strutting with his nose in the air.  Spiking the football for murdering an innocent. tasty goat.

If you live up here, and your kids are hopeless, now is the time to send them out to explore the mountain.  If something happens, no one will pin it on you.  Just that ol' mountain lion, and after all, cougars are people too.  But they are bullies as well.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Come on, Mitt.  Say it is not true.  I saw a headline that said Mitt was planning to rejoin the national dialog.  Those are the words they used.  I'm not sure what national dialog means, but I know what it is in this context---Mitt wants to see his picture in the paper and wants to muddy mirky waters.   No, don't do it.
And please, Bush family, retire the dynasty.  These rumblings about Jeb and some nephew Bush are troubling.  Political dynasties are not in the best interest of freedom, or much else that is desirable.



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Monday, May 27, 2013

Dusting off the UnWelcome Mat

So, I'm doing all this gut wrenching soul cleansing work to actually organize the stuff of my life, make my dwelling neat clean, even inviting and hospitable, and now there are very few people I want anywhere near me.  My Welcome Mat will be edited to read, "Go Away and Die!".   That takes some of the wind out of my sails.

It is good to only know a group of people superficially, so you can assume the best and be blind to their drama and antics.  Once you breach the facade the acquaintanceship immediately reaches the point of diminishing returns.  Such is the case on Ballistic Mountain.

I found out that the better looking of the two psycho women who tried to create trouble at that party, actually managed to incite violence before the night was through.  These people are far too old for this to be understandable or anything beyond sad and pitiful.

Apparently she nabbed some guy on the dance floor and started making out, while her boyfriend sat on the sidelines watching.  He got all huffy and instead of taking it out on her he launched a surprise attack on the guy.  Punching, rolling on the ground, then the requisite fight break up.

Seriously?  At 50 years old or so?  Girls just want to have fun.  I'm so disgusted that I was there, that my alleged friend, The-Lady-Up_the_hill, did nothing to fend off the insane people trying to use me in some game of manipulation--all directed at controlling the LadyUpTheHill.  One short sentence would have done it.  She played dumb, and still is.  Maybe it isn't an act.

I am glad for my friends K and L and C, with whom I play music up here, but the rest of these people I have no desire to know.  C's wife is in the thick of the gossip circle and one of those who likes to annoy single men, and can't resist little sabotage ploys when a single guy is making points with an unattached woman.

It is a sickness I guess, but it is to the point that I have to avoid C in order to avoid his wife, who doesn't grasp the concept of personal boundary.  I'll show up somewhere and immediately she'll approach me with a question of the same type as, "So, have you stopped beating your wife?".  What can you say?   I eventually tell her to piss off, and then there we go.  I can't deal with it any more.

I'm sure they all just blame it on alcohol.  If you can't drink and handle it, drink alone, locked in a closet or don't drink.   Unbelievable.  

Oh sorry I slept with your wife/husband/child/dog, but I was drunk. hahahahehehe.  Oh, that's OK, you sure were drunk--hahahahehehe.  Where's the pepper spray when I need it?  Anyone thinks like that needs to be deported, or fumigated or something.

So, newly worked place, and I find I am even more of a fish out of water than usual.  At least my good friends in Pt L are in no way like these crazy creatures.  K and L aren't either. Neither is C, but his wife is a loose cannon.  At least if I fall off of a cliff, there won't be a big mess to clean up at my house.  But I am definitely rethinking the idea of being a host.  Maybe I'll just be a clean and organized hermit instead.

Sunday, May 26, 2013

Judgement Days

I'm not sure, but I think all the decades of avoiding looking at the evidence--pictures, writing, etc.--of my life are partly due my lack of acceptance of my failures, and maybe even my victories.  Just didn't want the truth, whatever it was.

I still find it hard to be happy that I am as I am, in some ways.  But much of that is not any more in my control than the size of my toes.  Even though certain things can't be helped, there is still the capability to compensate and improvise.  It is probably some kind of moral obligation, but I haven't reasoned that out yet.

Doesn't mean you go to hell for letting your glitches rule, but you do get to live a bit of it.  Those who compensate well seem quite happy.  Those who look in the mirror and are thrown into an endless WTF? loop tend to wonder why they are where they are and why they are not more productive.  That loop is very tough to break.

I discovered a number of letters, written to various members of my family.  Must have been in stuff my mother had.  They cast some clarity on a few things.  Nothing huge, but a shock of sorts.  It elevated my already high opinion of my brother.  And of my mother.  It placed my father in a great position should he ever wanted to prove his own -either insanity or insensitivity combined with extreme self centeredness.

The letters I wrote scream of a very lost 19 year old.  I never realized though, that at that early age being alone was a prominent theme in my writing.  I had friends but not really.  Either I chose the wrong friends for awhile there, or I had no real friends.  End result is the same.  Wrong friends aren't friends.

I do just that sometimes now.  I figured that out.

When grownups throw a party with more scheming shallow drama, a general lack of ability to hold their liquor, a less inspiring bands than we did in high school---outside of official school policy and rules, and outside of their supervision--it is a boring, maddening scene,

Our events were 100% pulled off by clubs of about 30 15 to 18 year old ne'er do wells.  I actually hated being a member, but I handled getting some great events put together.  I liked that, plus some girls vied for a date to some of those things.  I was too dumb to work it well to my advantage though.  I had a better chance getting a date if I pretended to be someone else.  Except when I had a girl friend.  Maybe that is why 11th grade was my favorite.  Same girl the whole year.

The last one was on Viscaya's courtyard--open bar, Bahamian bar tender, two bands so there was never a long break.   It was one friend's connections that got us that venue.  I got two bands because the one year I didn't manage things the band did not show.  I believe it was due to Dion S's incompetence.

I took no chances on that Viscaya thing.  It was a big end of the year party.  My prom.  I didn't go to the regular prom.  Too far out of the loop already.  Anyway this thing was formal, and we sold tickets to selected people and had roughly a hundred people.  At least.

I seriously doubt that Coral Gables High or Southwest or Killian or even Palmetto have ever seen a party like that.  No fights, to my knowledge, and the only trouble maker was my date.  I couldn't handle drunks even when I was drinking.   Sort of like the laziest guy in the room ranting about having no tolerance for laziness, telling others to get up and do something.

Here's a tip for those planning a big hooplah event.  Line up someone you really want to be with to accompany you.  Nothing worse than putting on a great project and being stuck with Lillie Lushyeller.
She wasn't that bad.  I think the brothers and her catholicism intimidated me at the time.  It's all coming back.

See what unpacking is doing?  I do not exaggerate when I say decades of neglect.  It doesn't hurt to look at it and deal with it now.  Easy to toss out what isn't relevant to what I need, have space for or want.  And I have to have a reasonably good reason for wanting.

You know, that stupid lush lady hurt my feelings.  No way I can totally explain the night of the fighting Mexican potato, the she-devil, the banshee and the zombie.  Doesn't sound so bad until you realize that your goal on this particular mission is to get along with them and avoid violence.  Now, it is not so easy.  Rules of engagement change the game.

some of the above refers to the previous post which is probably just a different shade of vague
i won't tell you where we got the money--not completely.  We sold things at the swap meet quite a lot.  I created the grab bag special.  We'd just put a selection of trinkets in a paper bag and sell it for a dollar, but they couldn't see what was in it.

They were happy with it and the grab bag special was a good seller.  We always included something worthwhile.  I have to say, some of the swap meet experiences may have been my happiest in high school.  And  I haven't thought of it for many years.  Just this minute.  I never allowed myself to dwell on it long enough to realize I enjoyed it, and was a crazy little businessman at times.  Holy smoke.

That girl-up-the-hill surprised me.  Not in a good way.  Crumby surprises just don't work.

Times Feel Like They Be Changing

Typically, as I whittle this chaos down and begin to bring some neatness and organization into my life, I feel like running away.  To what, I don't know.

I went to the annual big wingding at the winery which is about 2 miles further up or over this mountain.  All narrow, winding dirt road, of course.  Many people show up to this thing, with several of them camping and the whole bit.

They had 3 bands play.  They were OK but didn't spark anything in me.

Drunks up the yingyang.  Banshee women.  Miniature mexican shaped like a potato seemed to want to fight for unknown reasons.  I slipped that one, fortunately.  The screwed up girl-up-the-hill antics and the odd women who injected themselves in our business made the evening and party one of the worst times since arriving in SD.

I actually liked the up-the-hill girl, whom I'll refer to as That F'ing Idiot.  No, too long.  Witless.  Pretty Witless, the waste of my time.

I'm not sure what it is about this area, but in this general age range which includes those 25 years younger, married women will fall all over themselves to sabotage any single man they spot getting close to a single woman.  I've watched it happen to others, and experienced it happen to me.

All I have to say is I do not care if people drink, but if you act like an obnoxious creep when you do, I still hold you responsible.  After last night, if I never talk to one single even just tipsy person, I'll be happy.

So many drama magnets and controlling, boundary jumping busy bodies up here, it is scary.  That is why I do not go out of my way to meet too many people up here.  It makes me want to move to Texas or somewhere.  Maybe Seattle.  Maybe the moon.

But this is still the best cabin or cottage I've seen in this county.  Up and over the hill is out of sight.  Those people back there are not so close.

Uh oh.  I just figured it out.

I'll bet most of the people up here are required by law to dwell a certain distance from anyone else.  Like a restraining order on behalf of the rest of humanity.  That would explain a lot.

Friday, May 24, 2013

Little Things; peace on earth, goodwill to alpine

It has become clear over the last few years that, even if I never unpacked, I'd still need more place for clothes and errant textiles.  Also, it has come to my attention that an amp or speaker cab is not the best choice of bedside table.

Having narrowly escaped TV disposal hell Thanks to some nifty ladies at the brand new Alpine Goodwill facility, I decided to go back and see what was for sale.  They just opened yesterday.

Normally you have to take anything like a TV or computer to Santee which is down there by El Cajon. A long enough way, for sure.  They opted to let me leave it and said they'd get a truck to take it to their electronics donation facility.
I found the perfect dresser/ bedside table.  It is the perfect size for my needs.  Whoever built it did a good job, and even engraved his/her name under one of the drawers.  I think it says Raphael.  It is hard to read.  It is all wood and shows no signs of use.  I thought $35 was a fair price. I hope so.

Little things.  Those dwelling in, or in the process of escaping, negligent chaos appreciate any degree of relief and improvement.  It is affecting me in other ways too.  I'm beginning to address certain other aspects of my life and well being.  I think I'd be hard pressed to even gather the materials used in building this piece for less than $35.  It matches the exposed beams and other cool features of this coolest of all cabins or cottages.

Very soon I will actually host some people here.  My plan is to ask a few pretty girls over, pretending that I am having others show up, too, but I won't invite anyone else.  Then I'll mope and shed a tear or two because no one showed up and they must not like me.  The ladies will then do their best to comfort me.  Winning!!!!


what?  is that wrong?


Documents Found

Good news.   I'm now a documented citizen (or whatever euphemism is now being used for that word).  I found not only my birth certificate but also my social security card.   You'll never guess where they were.

The back wall is now free of towering stacks of boxes.  The birth certificate was in a notebook-like thing in a box with a router table, one black shoe, and other related items.  Reminds me of an IQ test; what comes next in this series? 1 black shoe, 1 router table, 3 harmonicas, ?

Your guess is as good as mine.

In the process I found things that I had never seen.  It was an eye opening experience, mostly regarding family matters.

Who knew I had some decent stainless steel pans?

By measure of volume, I'd say a much is going out the door as is being saved, and that will probably shrink by a third before it is all over.

I found notebooks of writing; mostly lyrics, but not completely.  There are ideas, topical satire things, nonsense, etc. Most of it is far more entertaining than I'd expect.

Best f all, I found my Humanitarian Certificate; a certificate of appreciation from the City of Miami for unknown effort after a hurricane.   It proves I have a heart.  I know how the scarecrow from Wizard of Oz felt.


Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Dreams of My President

If you're headed to hell, better bring an overcoat.

Never in a million years would I expect to have a dream in which I pal around with Barack Obama.   But I did.  It was one of those other dimensional experiences which seemed real and natural, even though the rules of the place are a bit different than the normal awake condition that most people enjoy.
(he wasn't wearing a suit on our adventure. khaki shirt. hey I was there. It happened)

So, we're at an unknown event in the evening.  It was a bit like the Cooper-Young street festival in Memphis.  As a matter of fact my impression was that we were in Memphis.

It is unclear how I got tangled up in this, but at some point Barack said something, "Hey, can you come with me?"  OK, guess so.

Without any real effort, the secret service and all that was ditched.  He acted like he wanted to cruise the crowd without notice.  He seemed a little confused.  It was the stuttering Barack, sort of.

Even though he said he wanted to blend in he kept posing doing that head back, raised chin thing he does.  At one point a woman catches our attention saying, "Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?".
It was great, because Barack did that pose thing and began mumbling, "Well, as a matter of fact...".  She cut him off, looking at me she said, "No, I me you."  Speaking to me.   His dejection was obvious.

I just told her, "I hope so!", and we went on making our way through the crowds and booths and such. He was dead set on making it to a place he knew that sold loaves of cheese bread.  Don't ask me, I didn't really get it then and I don't get it now.

The Pres wanted that cheese bread in the worst way. We were getting along well, so I was glad to accompany him on this mission.  It must have been at that point that I said, "Mr. President, you know I don't agree with much of your agenda, if any." I did use the formal title there. "You really ought to quit all the racial divide.  You know it is BS and causing harm, don't you?"

He shrugged in a gesture of "yea, what can you do?", as if it was just his job.  Like saying you don't like shoveling horse manure, but that's just the way it goes when you are in the working with horses business.  Oddly, I felt no resentment from him regarding my views.  I think he envied me for having views, but really hoped I'd shut up about it.

He seemed uninterested, and unsure if he liked his job.  He gave off a vibe like the job was an unpleasant chore---can't blame him for that.

My impression was that he really had no personal passion regarding political philosophy.  Just did whatever it took to satisfy whatever powers, and to keep the job.  He said he wanted to escape all that for now.  He was on a quest for a loaf of cheese bread.

So we made our way into the somewhat crowded cheese bread pavilion.  I think he knew the lady running the place but she didn't make a big deal or start in with a bunch of "Oh, Mr President!" fawning.

He said to me, "Get whatever you want.  I'm president so I can handle it.  But don't get more than ten dollar's worth."  Okey dokey.   I told him I wanted nothing but he insisted.

He got his loaf of cheese bread and headed out the side door while I was getting my cup of coffee, and a loaf of cheese bread.  That is all they sold, cheese bread by the loaf and drinks.  I took one piece of bread from the loaf and gave the rest to a homeless looking character.

When I went out the side door, it was dark and looked like an alley.  Barack had chosen a path off the main thoroughfare where the crowds milled about.

There were three guys harassing him for money.   Black guy, black hispanic, and a guy of unknown species.  The black guy was the leader and he pulled a gun and had it pointed at Obama' chest.  (am I a filthy racist because there was a villain or two of color in my dream? Most of my dream villains are colorless)

So, Barack's mumbling and clearly surprised, "Uh, guys, you know I'm president, right?"  And the gun guy answers with something like "F you, and I'm John Lennon.  You gonna be a dead mother f'ing president!"

They had no clue who he was.

It all happened real quick--the talking.  When I saw the gun pointed at him, and sensed the situation was escalating, all I could think was "nobody is going to shoot the President with me around".  I dove between them, hoping to push the gun arm so he couldn't shoot Barack and maybe not shoot me.

I said, "Oh, Hell No!" and dove.  Don't know if I had to take a bullet or not.  The dream ended in mid air, just as I reached them, with my flying body arriving between the two.

It felt like I knew him and although I don't like anything I can think of that he's pushed, I had no qualms about trying to protect the guy.  More because he's president than not.  I'd have been less reckless with my own survival had he not been the president.  I was pissed off at the punks.  The gunman's sidekicks were just hanging back being goofy thugs.

What it means, I do not know.  I guess it means don't be playing gangsta.  Just let the guy have his loaf of cheese bread, or I'll attack.

After that dream, I feel like I'm an old acquaintance of the POTUS.  He's an odd duck but not intentionally evil, or good.  Kind of a neutral sort, just going through the motions because he has no choice.  That was my impression, and we're old cheese-bread-loaf-quest buddies, so my insight must be valid.

It is strange to have such a vivid dream, and remember it all.  I rarely experience that these days.  And, though I have a history of rescue dreams, they usually involve a lady love or someone that means more to me than my pal Barack.  I guess now that we're buds, I am not so indifferent toward him, though he'll never get my vote.


Thursday, May 16, 2013

The Magic and Surprise of Unpacking Five Years After Moving In

In my case, many things have gone unsorted for a decade or two, at least.  Mostly things have been in the box for about five years.

It used to be that I'd start to sort, see an item that brought up something from the past and it would make me sad or remorseful to the point that I just couldn't face it, so I'd stop and leave it for another time.  That resulted in chaotic accumulation.  And I'd be all down because I couldn't make myself touch it.

I couldn't look at opportunities ignored or family sadness and insanity or the way I felt at some age like 15.  Just could not do it.  It seemed to get worse over the years.  And I never found the right person to help when it came to the minute details.  I had to have help to even touch the boxes or the clutter, which is probably another issue.

Poor Joel ended up getting me moved in and out of places in NC two or three times.  But those boxes went unsorted.  I needed a trusted woman who cared enough not to be too annoyed and that never happened.  Way it is when you have unusual defects that make no sense.

It may have been my own fear of letting them in that much, but I never felt I was in the presence of one who wouldn't be judging, even if trying to hide the fact.  Positions reversed, I don't know that I could deal with it. Positions aren't reversed so there it is. [update: I may have had such a woman friend but wasn't there yet, now that I reflect on it] I've been stuck with me, and it has been my--I don't know--Moby Dick or something. Damned swimming mammal that tried to eat me alive.

Well, I am happy to say that I have willed myself into a different mental mode.  It is a psychic change for sure.  I spent the day dealing with everything from very macabre last will and testament sort of papers, written by me and witnessed by me, to sentimental stuff of deceased loved ones, you name it.

Not a shred of fear, regret, pain, or nostalgia.  Actually, the scariest thing I found--really scary, macabre and worrisome sent me into almost uncontrollable laughter.  (Hey JT, it was my piece of corn under the fridge)

This is trivia to most people, and hopefully would not even compute, but it was like suddenly being able to walk after thirty years confined to a wheel chair to me.  All I felt was how lucky I am.  I did have a couple of trusted friends in the mix.  K and M.  K knew me when I was 16, and she even gets why I laughed at something which painted a very dark picture of where I was a year before arriving on this coast.

M gets it too and he's only known me since I arrived here.  No one else could possibly have helped, and had a blast doing it.  And they wanted to.  They've wanted to for maybe three or four years.  Is that crazy or what?  I'm way older and should be set in my ways and capable of whatever it is that high class neat people do.  I may be genetically predisposed to disorganization, but no one in my family ever approached my flat out, long term negligence.

There is more to be done and they're returning Sunday whether I like or not.  That will be good.  I was freaking out before they arrived today--a little.  I wanted to back out but had set it up so I couldn't.  Now I don't have that going on.

With me it is the most basic life maintenance and organization that throws me for a loop.  And it is the simplest of things that leaves me elated.  Maybe that is good because the simple stuff is not a strain on the bank account.

Who knew that I bought a jacket on my ill fated fiasco of a trip to New Zealand?  I did, and I had no idea.  Also I have a Live! From Sun Studios---the Memphis Snake Doctors tee shirt.  I didn't know that. And I did the art work.  You can bet I'll wear that next time I'm at a musical gathering.  "Oh, that? Yea, I recorded at Sun, same room where Elvis played".

That was cool, but I am so glad I got out of Memphis.  Few people know it is either a suburb of Hell, or else Purgatory.  But that isn't to say there aren't some cool people there.  Don't know how they do it.  And I did live in the best of all possible places in the best of all possible neighborhoods--in my book.  Wasn't enough.

I'd say the people out here, especially in Alpine and that region, have no idea how good they have it.  But even the lifers do seem to know.  Weird when people actually like it where they live.  Never experienced so much of that before.


====so far six Large garbage bags in dumpster, mostly from things culled out of boxes with helpful labels like "John" and "textiles".  No container has only one type of thing.  There were harmonicas, kitchen utensils, towels, tee shirts, and notebooks in one of the 'textiles' boxes.  No one named John is in the John bin.  It was time to trash that tax thing from 1996.  Really, I wasn't in love with that document even when it was timely, why keep it another 15 or 20 years?

People With Way More Credentials and Brains Than I

Often I write rants here.  I've been accused of making baseless assertions which contradict the view of people who have studied more, achieved great academic success, degrees etc.  Apparently I'm undaunted.

In the realm of energy production and the way that industry has evolved, my suggestions of how that would evolve over time have proven accurate.  That was back in the late seventies.

I won't belabor the specifics because I kind of enjoy being told I don't know anything, that people with far more experience and credentials know better.

Regarding the IRS, it's the same thing.  I re-read my last post and I kind of like it.  Except it is the kind of talk that can get one put on a list these days.  Freedom of expression ain't what it once was.  National security, you know.  I'm sure many people are aware that national security is an excuse against which you cannot argue.

Failing that, depending upon whom you criticize, it can be called hate speech or you're racist and talking in "dog whistles" to your secret racist buddies.  Hate speech is a great one.  Geez.  Some people are hateful.  Generally they fall of their own weight.  Sometimes the haters are the ones accusing the truthful of hate speech.  You never know.  Censorship is like that.

The national security catch all excuse can be used for illegal snooping, as in the AP phone records scandal, or any abuse of power.  And because it is national security which requires high level secrecy, you can't insist on the truth.  "You can't handle the truth!", and you won't get it.  Sorry.  Expect more of that, too.

When I created a method for controlling the harmful by-product of running cotton from the bale to the finished product, cotton dust, I was told my method would not work.

No one could get the levels down to a point which was unlikely to cause the deadly condition known as brown lung.  I guaranteed that I could, and in the very dirtiest, hardest to treat room in a cotton mill.  And it was proven by independent tests to not only meet the target levels, but to exceed it by over 10%.  When I say exceed, that is on the down side.  Levels averaged over 10% under the level they all said I couldn't hit.

By the way, I actually got a minor study run in NC State's textile lab.  I worked with a doctoral candidate.  End result--the head of the department wanted me to come there and get my doctorate in textile science.  I liked that guy.  At the time, NC State was the top, cutting edge school in the world in that field.  I think maybe Clemson was right up there too.

There were some very successful companies in that field who employed engineers and hotshots with far more experience, and much higher levels of education than I ever achieved.  I guess they knew better and I was irrational and arrogant to think I knew better.  They'd spent their lives doing this.  Who did I think I was?   I was only 26.  Young punk kid, wet behind the ears, blablabla.

Well, they did know things I didn't.  They knew about cronyism, government, and how to play the game and put on the show for public consumption.  I was innocent and naive.  But no one can change the fact that I was right.  And I have proof, and there were witnesses.

The point is, many a scientist, PhD, government "professional", whatever, can be wrong despite credentials and experience.  I respect what it takes to get those credentials, all the hard work.  All of that.  But those things do not necessarily prove a point.  Often those people do wonderful things, with the exception of the government professionals.

This is the USA.  Never were the terms professional and politician supposed to be linked together.  It is a sure recipe for destruction of a nation, and in our case, a culture.

No, I decided I do not care that these brilliant people should have a better idea of how it should be than I do.  If I strongly believe they don't, I'll trust myself.

You know who I'm talking to here, don't you homeboy?
hahahahahahahahahaha

I have to tell you, nothing was more satisfying than the mill president, who decided I may have something real, coming back from an industry wide conference on cotton dust control telling me how they all said my scheme was impossible nonsense,  and then to see the results of the independent testing prove I was right.

The case of a runaway state is different.  I would love to be wrong.  But I am not.  The trap for many bright people is that they think they can make it all work like a charm, if only they have the authority.  And the other smart people who back them somehow see themselves as part of the benevolent elite, too.  The inescapable truth, that when tax funded entities control choice and resources,  injustices and cronyism  will and do occur, is simply ignored.  They mean well, but they got it wrong.

I guess I just had to make a bit of a case for why telling me I'm arrogant to question and suggest the things I do does not go far in convincing me to back off.

I do love how that IRS guy got thrown under the bus, while the one who probably should be under the bus, other than the head of the executive branch, ended up a head of the IRS department that is supposed to enforce the health care system.  If nothing else, it is getting interesting, and it is a good study in how to get out of hot water even when you are caught red handed.

Who you gonna believe; me or your lying eyes?  (you know that reference right?  The guy gets caught in bed with another woman--or visa versa--and he says what woman, no woman here.  Who you gonna believe, etc)

Oh, and by the way, the reason the US does not manufacture textile and cotton goods like they used to is more the result of crony business-government doings than slave labor in China.  Certain corporations benefitted, others were crushed. That is how it is done. And the spin for the public sounds air tight logical, but it is not fabricated using truth.

But, hey.  A lot smarter people than me say different.


so there

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Insatiable Retribution Service

Please tell me that it is not really a surprise that the IRS is used as a weapon against those who oppose those in power.  Or against those who oppose the IRS.

Here's the trap: the group in power won't get rid of this evil organization because it is one of their biggest weapons against opposition,  and it is a great source of private information and such which can be used in elections or simple blackmail.

It also controls which charities are deemed worthy, controls how you invest or save, and a whole myriad of life and business choices through a system of not stealing as much from you if you do A rather than B.

 It is a tool of behavior modification as well as a legal terror organization.  Being the IRS means never having to say you are sorry.  They've ruined businesses and lives on rumors which proved wrong, then did nothing to atone.

They've ruined lives because they decided some rule didn't apply in case A but did in case B, based on arbitrary whim of judgement.  It has no place among free people or decent people.  And everyone actually knows this.  They just refuse to admit it.

The group not in power doesn't want to push too hard to get rid of this jackboot operation because of the risk of being targeted and having their lives ruined by the IRS.  Everyone is afraid to pull the plug on the out of control machine.

So, imagining that the latest hint of scandal even begins to touch the full story is very wishful, naive thinking.  This government organization has been used as a weapon of reprisal by presidents, and others, even before FDR.  That was the real motive behind its creation, in my view.  Certainly the motive behind how it is structured.

Its very existence, and the nature of the tax code it enforces--a code so complex that no two irs creeps can give the same answers to questions regarding the rules---ensures the perpetuation of corruption and thuggery in government, funded by the taxpayers.   I honestly do not see how any person with a shred of integrity can work for that outfit.

"Just doing my job" only goes so far.  But that goes for an alarming number of government jobs agencies and projects.   "Sorry to unreasonably ruin your life, but I'm just doing my job" (because I'm a spineless c*nt who doesn't have the backbone to refuse, and who is too greedy to turn down the salary.)

Oddly, there are a ton of people who think they are incredibly intellectual who support that sort of tyranny.  And they ridicule those who don't.

No sympathy for republicans who feel targeted.  Why didn't they 86 this outfit when they had more power?

Possibly because they, too, couldn't resist use of this weapon.  It is the most obvious and glaring clue to the fact that the parties are more similar than different when it comes to serving the infrastructure of absolute control.  Team A or team B, the tools are the same.  Result is the same--massive control, reduction of individual rights.

You say there's nothing "we" can do about it?  Come on.  Think.  You absolutely know there is.  Too few are willing to take the risk.  Massive boycott would carry minimal risk.   It is the only way I can see that would work.  Maybe there are other ways of which I'm unaware.

So to accept it and claim to be powerless is a lie.  Gutless maybe.  Not powerless.  It takes no gut to go march in a large herd of people chanting whatever Mr/and/or Ms Megaphone says.  That won't work.  Refusing to feed the monster does take some nerve, but would achieve results.  But you could wind up in trouble.

Almost as much trouble as not buying whatever insurance those lunatics demand that you buy, at whatever price they deem fit.

I think starving the monster is the surest way to neutralize it.  But who wants to be that kind of weirdo.  John Stewart or that sleazy Maher guy might make fun of you.  OMG.  Big O himself might ridicule you.  And the alleged opposition to those creeps certainly won't do you any good.  They'll be all wrapped up in what you think of abortion or condoms in schools.

Anymore I see it as Democrats=totalitarian jackboot neo-nazi tyrant lying bastards, and Republicans=idiotic pretend puritan wishy washy spineless untrustworthy hypocrites. Republicans pretend not to be totalitarian socialists, but their actions rarely back that up.

To the credit of democrats they are openly in love with a totalitarian state, and openly approve of censoring enemies and dissent.

Two parties.  Choose the slick, clever witty tyrant, or Ronald McDonald.

Don't expect the public to stand up to anything of real substance, like boycotting IRS, or selective service.

No, expect the best they'll do is litter and trash public places, stop traffic, abuse businesses, chant through megaphones, march around in a mob, and claim it is because they are the 99%.  And you won't know if they are complaining because there is too much government or too little.

Apparently Occupy is anything you want it to be.  I've asked various people who identify with the 99% what that means and what the objective of Occupy is, and I can't get a consistent answer.  When I get an answer at all.

Mostly I get angry responses to my questions because I am clearly only the 99% when we are talking percentile in relation to measurements of clever or odd.  Oops, but that actually means I'm in the 1%.
I'm not in the wealthiest 1%, but if you compare to the entire world, even our homeless are somewhat well-to-do.

That is not brave, not useful, and does not weaken the monster.  You want to put a dent in cronyism, or even corporate abuses, the IRS is the key player.

I hate the sheep minded weakness and cowardice of people more than anything.  I like people in general, but I hate the herd mentality that makes most people afraid to look uncool or different, even when they know it is right.  You see it on the job every day, in almost every company.

You won't get rich standing on principle, but at least it reduces the number of incidents in the regret column.  I do not regret standing for what was right at various job rather than watching people get fired unjustly while I hid behind "just doing my job", or "not my problem", etc.   I leave those lame rationalizations to cops, and hapless de facto criminals.

People, I love them in ways, but why are so many so f'ing stupid and afraid to be autonomous and free?

Monday, May 13, 2013

It's Summertime

In east San Diego county that means in the 90s during the day down in the 60's or 50's eventually at night these days.  Takes awhile to get the inside cooled down.  Place is well insulated but no a/c.

Once I finish this massive clean up/sort/get rid of the useless stuff, I must build the long planned fountain which can serve as a mister and cooler when fans blow over it.  Low humidity makes that method of cooling possible.  Air conditioners are still the best, but with the power company employing "smart meters" to screw you for using power when you really need it, I doubt I'll push to install a portable unit here.  It would just give cause to raise the rent.

I'm not ready for what looks like a very hot summer.  Oh well.  Life goes on.

There Are Fun Times

Last Saturday I attended the open mic in Rancho San Diego by the Starbucks.   They asked in advance if I wanted a time slot to perform and said I guess not.  They put me down anyway.

Unlike the others who play, I never know what I'll do until I do it.  I'd finished writing a song, at least the lyrics, on Friday.  The melody eluded me, even though I had some clue of what I'd like.  Even so I couldn't formulate it in my mind.

Fortunately, I didn't know I had a slot until a fews minutes prior.   My intention was to just play a random key harp for ten minutes or so with a drummer backing me and nothing else.

On impulse I decided to see if I remembered the words to my song.  I sang it a cappella and a melody emerged.   It actually went over well.  I was in a rare mood, shameless, I guess.

Then I riffed a short bit in A minor, a longer bit in E minor, then even longer in A--using a D harp.  That morphed from just made up stuff into Amazing Grace, into Shortenin Bread, and eventually into the Star Spangled Banner, with no stops in between--just jamming around and working into one or the other.

People actually stood for the national anthem, many singing along.  It worked better than I could imagine.  Then I quit while I was ahead.

Later I hit Parky's since Mockingbird had a gig there and had mentioned me sitting in.  I figured they'd forget or change their minds.  That little place was packed.  Diego the guitar player spotted me hiding toward the back and I ended up sitting in on maybe 5 tunes, one of which I'd heard previously.  It worked well and I left in a very good mood.

They had the place jumping.  Couldn't have gone better.  It was a good quality crowd too, very short on riffraff.
the end
.

Eating Cake; idol worship

It is astounding, if not nauseating, to watch how people will defend any action their chosen team or leaders take, just because that's their team.

The most egregious examples, lately, would be the Chris Matthews genre of Obama worship, and the HuffPo brand of party worship, and truth laundering in relation to the Team.   It goes both ways, but O is in power, the head of an administration which is obviously so thirsty for power they'd damn near kill for it.

Whenever they are called out for lying, disregarding constitutional limits on their power, etc., they immediately claim the other team is out to get them, and (bizarrely) paranoid.

This is how presidents and power groups have gotten away with murder and mayhem in this country.  People tend to ignore anything their team might do.  The first and most common defense is to say, "what about when the other team's captain did this?  You didn't complain then!"

Obviously that doesn't address the issue, but it seems to work.  But quite often both teams are involved in some initiative, then if it doesn't work out, the minority team points blame at the team in power, pretending they were in no way involved.  Iraq is a great example of that.

I don't know how that worked because I don't know what end result was expected.

There are hints that Bush thought they'd be a mideast version of some small peaceful heartland USA town by now.

I'm phobic so I figured that no matter what help or hindrance you offer fanatic lunatics, they are still lunatics and prone to mass psychosis.   I must not be alone in that view because this view was at the heart of the lies about the consulate attack in Libya.

Oh, they hated the awful video so they all started jumping up and down in the streets and next thing you know they launched a mortar attack and killed people.

But we can't just point out the provable and obvious, that both Clinton and Obama knew that was a lie, yet they promoted it, even to the point of blathering the nonsense at the nonsensical UN.

I really have no respect for the UN, and I know that puts me as an iffy character in the mind of another organization that deserves no respect, Homeland Security.

Geez.  These people are not your family.  It is OK to let them be responsible for their actions. Let the consequences be whatever.  Why the blind loyalty and protection?  It is asinine to keep insisting racist motives and such.

I'm not a promoter of republicans and I think Obama is a wannabe dictator.  I do.  However I do not think he's a lone ranger in such efforts.  Messiah complex or no, figureheads are rarely a complete force unto themselves.

But I know his people have lied openly and that they've sought unlawful power openly.  That is not admirable.

But what about Bush?  WMD? Or Iran-Contra?  They don't even hammer him for things I would, like why he let Johnny Sutton keep his job, and why didn't he pardon the innocent, etc.

Still, that's the defense for Obama abominations--what about Boooosh?.  I'd say 'idiots', but it is more a form of insecure zealotry at play.  I think I'll hold my anger and just call them other names; fascist fuquits.  (short u in first syllable)

The real reason to avoid bullying as a kid is because many of the victims grow up to seek lifelong revenge through politics and law.  Many of the bullies manage to continue abusing humanity through those same means, if they are smart enough to handle school and stay out of prison.  Lots of the others just become drunks and cops.

Remember the bumper stickers that said, "Question Authority"?  Now those same people are in lockstep with those who think such slogans represent threats to national security=Obama's image, and they seek to silence dissent.  Obama himself says ignore the voices of those who suggest that there is tyranny in the government.

I guess I more say F%^$ Authority, than question.  I questioned long ago, time and time again, with the same answer over and over again.  They just won't mind their own affairs and stay out of mine.

Friday, May 10, 2013

Genius. Really

This lady explains things that I have never been able to express properly.  Or maybe I have and I encountered the same genre of reactions and fears she describes.

There is not a 100% literal correlation between her post and my life, but it is way closer than you might think.  Except, with me, it has come and gone many times, and lasted even longer.  Remember, we are not talking literal correlations.  I never had dinosaur toys, and didn't talk to the ones I had.

So, if it is of any interest, by referring you to her blog I'm blurting out a half hearted confession, I think.  Today I feel less like the condition she describes, but not much less.

So go here http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/

She is absolutely brilliant and there aren't so many words.  She has fabulous, hilarious illustrations and it isn't boring like some of my stuff can be.

The text, though, is very well written. This chick is definitely a cut or two above.

Whoever she is, I think I love her because she explains what haunts me. A lot. And she makes me laugh, and she draws pictures with easy to read text.

Others must like her.  5000 comments on 1 entry?  She typically only gets 2000 or so.

Yea.  I know she's way younger, twenty something or maybe thirty something.  I love her anyway.

Thursday, May 9, 2013

De-Programmed

For some time now I have avoided any TV show with a laff track.   Intellectually, and I'm no major intellect, I find it condescending and insulting.  Really?  You think I need to be cued and prodded to spot humor?

OK.  So I don't like the canned laughter. Secretly, I thought that push come to shove I could deal with it in a pinch.

I wanted some background entertainment as I tackle the 400 and some square feet of mess which has terrorized me for who knows how long.   I saw a show that looked interesting on Hulu, and I did the proper sequence of clicks to get 'er rolling.  Then I went to brew a pot of espresso.  OH MY GOD.

The initial dialog was mildly interesting, for about 3 seconds.  Then it happened.  I heard the fake laughter.  It grated on my nerves far worse than fingernails scratching across a blackboard ever have.  It made my skin crawl, my stomach felt nauseous, my head began to threaten serious ache.

I leaped through the clutter to shut that show down.  Then I breathed a sigh of relief, suddenly becoming aware that on top of all else, the canned laughter had stopped my breathing.

Over the years most of us who view even a moderate amount of television have become conditioned to take the laff track as normal, not giving it a second thought.  I realized that I have become de-programmed, like those kids that get kidnapped back from religious cults by their families.  It takes some serious de-programming for many of them, and that may be more serious.

The point is, I was once conditioned to not only accept the laff track, but to chuckle along with it.  That cannot be good.

I feel like I've achieved something.  A little victory earning me more control of my life and psyche.  I won't say empowered because that word generally annoys the hell out of me.  Kind of like "you go girl!" does.  That's got sexist overtones, and is generally uttered by some wannabe doing that waggle thing.  Obnoxious.

Maybe I really am achieving freedom a small bit at a time.

A Tale of Two Harps in a Datsun 510 Wagon

Once upon a time, on a dark, rainy night in Greensboro, N.C. I found myself and my old Datsun up on that hill which served as the parking lot for New York Pizza--eatery and pub.  Maybe it was summertime, or autumn.  It was definitely night time.

My friend Joel and I were there for reasons which I do not recall.  Maybe he does.  Whatever the original reason, we decided to attempt a 2 harmonica jam.  At that time, I guess I considered Joel somewhat of a protege on bluesharp.  By then he already surpassed me in certain respects.  From the start he was the only harp player I knew who had sense enough to make it work when two harps play.  Normally multiple blues harps make worse noise than cat in heat, fighting.

That night we developed some kind of groove which evolved and got wild.  I closed my eyes and felt like I was flying.  I remember I pushed myself to do things I didn't know I could do.  My heart was in it.  Time lost meaning and I can't say if we were there for a minute or hours.

All I know is that, at some point, I opened my eyes and it was raining, and people were standing outside the car cheering or applauding.  Where did they come from?  And standing in the rain listening to us!  That felt pretty good.

I have no idea what we played.  Joel is very good with solid, funky rhythm.  He kept it moving and kept the rhythm working, which gave me something to work with, I think.  He did that better than I've ever been able to.

There was something magical about that little concert.  My friend won't let me forget it.  He seems to think I was channeling something special that night.  He has also commented that, while I may be better now, he wonders if I ever really pour my heart out like that any more because he hasn't seen it in any videos.

I argued, of course, that he didn't know what he was talking about, but I figured out he is right.  Or was.  I like much of the more disciplined stuff I'm doing, but that feeling of really letting go is rare rare rare.

Very hard to describe that state of being, but it is why I play--hoping to feel a little of that.  How it sounds, I don't know, but how it feels I do know.  It is addictive to the point where I play stuff that doesn't move me at all, hoping for a chance to sail into wonderland.   Sometimes years go by without a taste of it.

Lately, I've brushed up against that place a few times.  Mostly because Joel was pushing me to let go and do it.  Good thing he's still in NC.  I wouldn't put up with such advice in person.  I don't care if he has a point.

That night was like a step away from time.  It was as if nothing existed.  Strange.  That was almost half my lifetime ago.

Still, I remember the way it felt.

Another new Music Kick

While I still find Los Lonely Boys often produce music that suits my soul like no other, I'm on a bit of a Leonard Cohen kick at the moment.

I've always liked lyrics which ring of superior poetic substance.  Lenny does that well.  It usually has lustful overtones, which also suits me just fine.

Like many artists I feel his political bent is somewhat naive, yet well meaning, but what can you do.  That's why I do not put politics in any songs I write or sing.  At least so far.  It queers the deal.

OK.  The jig is up.  Got to get to cleaning and detrashing and de-filthing my abode.  They are painting stuff tomorrow and no getting out of opening the door for them because they are going to paint it.

This is good.  Whatever illness it is that makes me punish myself by being so insanely negligent when it comes to maintaining my personal environment and affairs is temporarily put at bay when THEY close in---witnesses who aren't likely to tolerate or make excuses for the results of my bad habits.

So, I'm pumped. Life gets better.

.

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

I Did Tell You So

Way back in September of 2012, maybe forty years ago in Jay Carney Years, I remember expressing extreme skepticism and disbelief upon hearing the story that an unknown cartoon of a video had sparked an attack on the embassy in Benghazi.   "It was a demonstration and a spontaneous attack in response to a hateful, insulting video", said Hillary and a host of others.  (similar words. this is close enough)

I watched the video, which was really a kind of disjointed trailer, and hilarious in it's odd green screen work.  The Prophet (pbuh) was standing in mid air and everything was off.  It was not hateful, just weird.

Anyway, I said I did not believe anyone ever watched the video until they made it the scapegoat for the attack.  Turns out, there was no demonstration, only attack, and one that included stuff not commonly carried to a protest, even over there; artillery, mortars and that type of thing.

Obama and Hillary apologized time and time again for it. The big O even lamented that he couldn't ban such things because his hands were tied by US law, and pesky freedoms individuals are guaranteed.   That struck me odd at the time, and odd now.

It is even odder since all the evidence suggests that our people knew from day one that this was one of those radical islamic events and not a protest.  So, how they get out of being cited for outright deception, I don't know.  Presidents and their administrations, and most all other branches of our government have made deception a fine art for quite some time.  Few administrations have enjoyed the lack of real accountability this one has, although they still managed to a point beyond the line of decency.

I think it is every bit as significant as Watergate, although I don't know of any dead bodies involved in that one.  Poor Barack, first people got killed due to the bizarre gun scheme known as Fast and Furious, and now this.  With help from the comedians who have become the major source of news for a generation, the powers that be have successfully stifled much legitimate criticism by classing those who dare question the king as right wing kooks, conspiracy theorists, and, of course, as racists.

People do conspire and cover things up.  Questioning that is considered weirdo conspiracy theorizing.  Sometimes weird conspiracies do happen.  Painting any such inquiry and questioning as mental illness is pure propaganda.

Perhaps things will get interesting.  Not holding my breath.  DC is a place of blackmail, extortion, theft, and worse.  To think this is a democrat vs republican thing may be a mistake.  I have a feeling some of the top gop'ers will pretend to be truth seeking while actually melting into the typical republican nonsense, as is the way of the Boehners, McCains, and apparently Rubios.

Big O advised the grads at a university the other day not to pay any attention to the man behind the curtain.  He told them to pay no heed to those who warn of tyranny in their government.  He's probably right.  It is too damn late, and what can you do?  Not that he meant it that way.

Even Eisenhower warned of it, in his own way.  The place was established by people who were paranoid of tyrants, Barry!  Geez.  That is the whole idea.  Always, the ruling elite, and governments of all types, have tended to increase and solidify their power and control over their citizens.  And it has always become a real threat to the innocent who just want to live, work, create and have sex in peace.

I am actually becoming a little bit worried.  The healthcare thing is going to be trouble for me, and one day I may be a criminal because I don't have insurance and refuse to do business with the exchanges or have the government decide whether I qualify for their help or not.  Actually it would be your help if you are a taxpayer.  In my mind I'd be a criminal for being too polite to force you to pay for my medical needs.

What a pain it is being me.  If I could be like most people, I would not think this way at all.  As it is, I can't let my pragmatism outweigh what I consider a matter of honor.  And I don't care if you or John Stewart or anyone else thinks that makes me fodder for ridicule.

However these things go, be wary of trusting republicans to be a reliable alternative.  In many ways they are far less oppressive, but in others they are moreso.

In the EU they are trying to make it so you can only plant approved seeds.  This is like a Monsanto wet dream, and the language of pretending it is "for your own good" is highly bizarre and transparent.  We are probably right behind them.  It is possible that Joe, the organic gardener and horticulturalist, could be a criminal for using his own seeds and hybrids and such.

Maybe the Save the Planet slogan will change to Save the Prison.  Whatever the case, I hope people will suspend their unconditional Obama worship, or gop opposition worship, long enough to see how boldly corrupt the people with the guns are.

And you wonder why I don't want laws limiting the lunatic public from being armed however they see fit?  I trust my friends and neighbors more than I trust the feds or the state.  I trust gangs and thugs about the same as I trust the people who now control the country and my state.

Really.

Modern government in the USA punishes the innocent for the crimes of the vile and defective, in one way or another.  And always, they reward themselves.  The constitution was supposed to limit their power but it only works if anyone pays attention to it, which they don't.  The world of the book, 1984, will be paradise compared to our future if the path doesn't change.

But I will find ways to indulge in mischief and enjoyment from time to time regardless.   I feel it my obligation not to let anyone or anything outside myself prevent me from appreciating being alive.

the end

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Early Christmas List So You Can Save Up for It

An acoustic guitar.  Six string, or acoustic bass.  Steel strings, preferably.
The perfect woman for me who can get past my "that' glitch.

the end

Monday, May 6, 2013

Rancho San Diego Social Club*

That also includes the Santee, El Cajon, and La Mesa Social Clubs.   All of those locales are basically suburbs of San Diego, and all are in San Diego County, which is huge.

On Saturdays, now that it is fairly warm, they have an open mic event in the afternoon outside a Starbucks of all places.  As you can see, it is clean, beautiful and the kind of thing you can't do in many cities due to the preponderance of riffraff and defective humans.



On the day pictured there were some good players, many of whom play regular gigs around SoCal.   A duo named Mockingbird is one of my recent favorites.  It is a husband and wife team with a unique style.  She sings and plays drums while he adds harmony and plays a mean guitar.  They rock.

Very decent people.  Mockingbird; good name, good humans.


This view is looking out from the patio, toward the south, sort of toward where I live.  I'm 20 miles east and south of there, and this is the closest of the venues where I play these days.  Of course, I live about 10 miles from the nearest store, so what' another ten miles?  Mexico is not far past that peak.

A nice thing.  People hang out and listen for awhile as they run errands.  Starbucks sells frappacinos (how do you spell that?) for half price, and life is good.  Lots of people play.  It went on from 2pm to almost 9.

So, that is what it looks like.  We're not in Memphis anymore.  If we were, they'd have to have security people everywhere to prevent the gimme dolla guys and others from harassing the innocent and attacking the non-violent.

the end
*
*rip off on the name Buena Vista Social Club.  
One of the few certainties in my life and mind is that I am drawn to many things with strong Latin influence.  Especially music---a mix of Mexican, Cuban, and whatnot.  Never been to whatnot but I have set foot in Cuba and Mexico. and Miami.  So there you have it.

Friday, May 3, 2013

Why Not Cut to the Chase: Bill of Absurdities

There seems to be a lot of confusion regarding rights both here and abroad.   More and more it seems that things which have only been mentioned in the realm of rights in recent decades tend to conflict with other rights.  The result is an increasing narrowing of the definitions of free speech and free press, and a few others.

Because the issues that come up are rarely cut and dried, confusion often ensues.  To solve this, I suggest introducing a Bill of Absurdities which enumerates those things which are not natural individual right, but rather conditions placed on others which serve to appease the various victims of the world and of life itself.

Here is an incomplete version of the Bill.  It's all we have so far.

All people and, in some cases, non-human persons have the right to never encounter a fear inducing situation

All people and, in some cases, non-human persons have the right to have their self esteem boosted and to never encounter the disapproval or dislike of others

No one shall ever have to endure an insult, or a compliment which could be interpreted as gender specific or somehow hurtful to others who did not receive a compliment

All people and, in some cases, non-human persons have the right to never be the recipient of a dirty look or stink eye (this will be expanded upon in a future bill to ban bullying and hostile sounding automobile horns)

All people and, in some cases, non-human persons have a right to stylish, new, comfortable clothes and shoes that fit well

All people and, in some cases, non-human persons have the right to proclaim themselves victims as long as they can cite one expert, author, or unsubstantiated fact or anecdote supporting such claim

All people and, in some cases, non-human persons have the right to seek and expect something for nothing in every facet of their lives

All people and, in some cases, non-human persons have the right to break shop windows and disrupt business areas, residential neighborhoods, and any other populated place, as well as the right to stop traffic if they think they have a good reason to be mad and that their cause is good

All people and, in some cases, non-human persons have the right to expect that they will never be harmed by objects of any kind; animate or inanimate. (this also covers things like falls)

All people and, in some cases, non-human persons have the right to any and all drugs, including alcohol, as the government sees fit

All these rights apply to all people and, in some cases, non-human persons but they may apply more to some people than others, depending upon unknown factors which will be determined by the official leaders at their discretion and leisure, however such determinations must not be considered permanently binding or be used as legal precedent, as all may change with different administrations, varying weather, and general societal mental health.  In short, the law applies equally to everyone, except for those who are more equal. Or less equal.  Whatever the case there is always to be a bit of equal there.



There are more, but this should give a good start.

Clarity is achieved because the Bill of Absurdities trumps the Bill of Rights whenever the two may conflict.  It lets people know what is likely to land them in trouble.  Maybe if this passes, fewer hours of media time will be wasted on celebrity and politician apologies.

It is confusion that undoubtedly leads a person to feel comfortable speaking his mind, only to later realize that by discussing, for example, hair do's he offended some group; the follicley challenged, in this case.  Next thing you know, the horrible person is making the rounds of the talk shows/news shows apologizing for being horrible.

It is so rare that I actually believe the apology that I can't remember the last time I did.  Most of the groups that insist on the apology do the best they can to grind it in and kind of control the person.  There is a real power dynamic, fed by the humiliation of the politically incorrect---those who violate the precepts and/or the letter of the proposed Bill of Absurdities.

Those people are figuratively placed in stocks in the public square so the fidgety public can pelt them with rotten vegetables.

The UN and some other fine money laundering outfits already have made efforts similar to the measures in this bill, but my proposal is more transparent and useful for those who seek guidance from the authorities for their behavior.

And it is a great tool for those who enjoy monitoring the discourse of fellow citizens/and/or non-citizens so they can report violations.   Once passed, they'll be able to enjoy that warm feeling that comes from seeing lives ruined and non-violent people put in prison, or executed.

I suggest a three strike rule.  Violate someone's enumerated Absurd Guarantees three times and you get dead.   Not sure how.  Probably stoning.  Again, this will reduce the volume of apologies in the media. Some people have gone on to say "Sorry" time and time again.  This way, you hear it no more than twice from the same individual because third violation is curtains.  And sentence should be carried out maybe a day or two after the infraction.  Again, such a policy would apply more equally in some cases than others, while there is always at least a grain of equal maintained throughout the process.

No need for trial.  Just being accused is enough.  It isn't the substance of the complaint but the gravity of the charge that is important.
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Thursday, May 2, 2013

Pacific Crest Trail; who knew?

All this time I have been going up to Kwymaii--forgot how to spell it--road on Mt. Laguna, not realizing that the Pacific Crest Trail goes right through that spot.  It is one of the major hiking trails in the US.

You can take it from Mexico up into Canada somewhere.  If I had some people to go with who knew what they were doing, and who weren't as scared of bears as I am, I might be motivated to get into shape.  I can be at the trailhead in Campo in about an hour.

If the right woman knew this stuff and wanted to go, I could do that.  Someone else would have to be the brains of this endeavor.  I could do OK because I can make things work and use resources at hand.  I don't know much about the whole long hike deal though.  And I'm a little skittish when it comes to some animals.  I know.  Wimpy for such an otherwise macho man.

The other afternoon I saw four or five hikers with substantial packs cruising through.  They better hope the fires up in Riverside county go away before they get there.  It will take them a few more days, I think.

I'm not sure I'd even care about starting at Campo.  People who want to be official have to do that.  Lots of uphill hiking, and twists and turns.

I toyed with the idea of taking solo journeys out there for a few days at a shot.  But I think I'd rather just table it unless the right situation came about.  I don't know.  I could escape every now and then, but I hate to leave my car anywhere like at a trailhead.  I suppose I could hike for a long long day to get to a trailhead from home.

Maybe later.  Besides I don't own a backpack or any of the proper stuff for long hikes.

Did I Miss It Already?

Being the conscientious, gung-ho, law loving citizen that I am, I try to keep up with the basics of what is happening in the world of governments.  That covers 99% of what is called news.  Tales of government.

So, while I spent a week sleeping under my bed in a lead blanket, awaiting attack from N. Korea, the story suddenly vanished.  Instead, I get to read that a second rate, yet pro, basketball player decided to become famous by announcing he's gay.  It was a shock to his ex-girlfriend.  Now he's famous.

But what happened to N. Korea?  Any word about that Libyan thing when an ambassador got killed, along with some others?  Benghazi.  No more news there.

Maybe, they had a quick war of some kind and I missed it.  That was a very peculiar buildup considering it just vanished.

Not sure what's up here in CA, other than the bullet rain to nowhere, from nowhere, awarded the contract to one of our senator's husband.  No conflict of interest.  Diane Feinstein only does what's best.  I know because she says so.  She knows best and it is coincidence if her office tends to bring her and her cronies financial windfalls.

Are they smarter for knowing how to play the system and the serf mentality of the public?  Am I a fool for never figuring out how to do that?  Would I be happier if I played the game so I could get my slice of public money?  Not really public--they had to take it off of someone.

Today, I think I've been all wrong about everything, for as long as I remember, almost.   Still, I can't help wondering what's up with being threatened with nukes, then no more news about it.


Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Sometimes F You is All There is To Say


There are times when my immediate, and lasting reaction to someone or some thing is F*** You!!!!
The above photo is such a case.

Having lived through S. Florida's massive immigration period, and having visited several of our third world neighbors many years ago, even getting a taste of early Castro, I am hyper aware of the blatant lies and hypocrisy of so-called immigration activists.

We have much more lenient, far more hospitable policies that just about any country.  Mexico will kick your ass if you try to hop over their southern border without permission. If you are lucky.  I understand they shoot them a lot.

If people were not so scared of freedom, and understood that compassion is not stealing from one neighbor to serve another, most of what now complicates immigration would not be.

I have considered living elsewhere for extended periods of time.  It never occurred to me to enter a country without observing their laws of entry,  then to protest and demonstrate because I wanted them to spend tax money how I see fit.  I want more services from this place, whose language and signs I don't understand, so I will make a big scene.   OK.  In most countries, if you try that, they'll yank you off the streets in two seconds, and they won't treat you well.  Get locked up, and if you are fortunate, get deported.

Seriously, check out what it would take for you to live in another country for a few years, or forever.  It is impossible in many cases.   New Zealand likes you if you are young and rich. No average Joes .  Certainly be younger than 50 or 40.  And you best be a person of means.  Certainly don't expect to be welcomed anywhere but the USA if you have no means.

It is another problem that has been created by filthy corrupt idiots.  Now, because it means huge voting blocs and power, the same corrupt idiots pretend it is new, unusual and pressing so they can reap the harvest.

My message to those who cross the border near where I live:   Stop with the litter!!!!  The mess these people make is substantial.  At least put it all in a bag and hang it on a tree.  They throw toilet paper--used-- up on bushes, diapers, too, bottles, cans, paper and cloth of all sorts, just scattered about.    But that toilet paper thing.  It is like someone decorated the bush like a Christmas tree, except they used used toilet paper from which to fashion the ornaments.

Duped.  People are so duped, and in many circles, unless you are happy with that, you are not cool.
Some ATF stuff back in news--mostly because those evil republicans are hammering them still about Fast and Furious, and about retaliating against whistle blowers who expose their corruption.

Why have an ATF?  The motive is corrupt from the start, so you think the agency is not going to be shite?

The world people are willing to accept and finance, with ATF, IRS, Health insurance mandates,  and rules so numerous no one knows how many exist--they multiply too fast to keep track---is not a world in which I do well.  The people I should have beat to a bloody pulp in 4th grade are running the show.

If you found it as annoying as I do, there would probably be a huge uprising of some kind, or at least a resistance which is now not evident.  But, I am the one who is a misfit.  The Che T-shirt crowd, neo-bolsheviks, and obnoxious theocrats, and those who will follow anything that keeps them feeling part of the crowd are the mainstream majority who carry the day.

Not the smartest people ever, but they see it to their advantage.  Short sighted, unprincipled creeps.  Oh well, it is better to be considered cool, and never fall into a group or belief which might be ridiculed by an ignorant comedian than to admit what is true, right, or about to run you down and ruin your life.

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