Imagining Jury Duty; California style

I'm looking forward to this excursion into the world of jurisprudence (or imprudence)

It's fairly certain it will be just like the picture above.
The eye patch is so I can get better parking and everyone will think I'm a badass.

***[no, I do not really use or possess any medical weed. Not ruling it out though]

The Demonization of Metaphor and Figure of Speech: dumb em down

***[or: fun with italics]****

In predictable authoritarian, and self proclaimed victim form, there are people in actual positions of power who now want to curb speech in order to make everyone safe. The truth is, they want to curb everyone's speech who doesn't fall in step with their designs.

If it gets to the point that you cannot speak of targeted, putting something in the cross-hairs, and can't use the word eliminate, defeat, squash, or who knows what, it is going to be tough to say anything. It gets to the point where use of the language becomes damned near impossible. Using allegory, illustration, all that kind of thing, is a way of expressing a thought in more robust form.

It is part of the dumbing down process. If someone says, "Hey that is one killer guitar player!!", do you think it will induce the deranged to commit murder?

There's one guy who wants it to be illegal to say or print anything that could be taken as violent symbols against public officials. If that is not pure elitism at its finest... It is kind of funny when these scum ask for special treatment. Elite paranoia, we call that in the trade.

Enough of that, I have my own scattered life to contend with. On the edge, ready to lock and load-or hoping to- to tackle and vanquish the demons that hold me in a grip of exhaustion, and inaction. OK. Does that sentence tend to make you want to go buy weapons and discharge them irresponsibly?

She was like a deer caught in the headlights---oops, don't do this at home--do not run over people.

Sadly, despite my sorry life and problems I ought to be attacking, the spirit and point of free speech is very much threatened. It is being eroded in increments--for our own good. But people like it that way. The charm of going along with things is that you can pretend to be intelligent and stable, even though deep down you know you are rather dimwitted.

**** all of the above italicized words and phrases should not be viewed by children or those who may be influenced to do odd things. All those words and phrases are possible candidates for future consideration as hate speech or incitement not to go along and support you local sheriff, overlord, lawmaker, politician, cop, or other tax paid twit who knows what's best for you, and is dead set on enforcing such things whether you ike it or not****

++++as a friend of the court, I must say all the above was purely hypothetical and in no way indicates how I feel. I would never use the word "killer" in the same phrase as "guitar player". And have no idea what cross-hairs are. I think it is some kind of hair dresser slang.
So, if any of this may fall in forbidden speech territory, now or in the future, I am just letting people know what not to say, think, or draw.

Friend of the Court

May it please the court, I have jury duty.

Maybe I'll be picked for a case involving El Cajon Highway patrol who have done some mischief and abuse upon innocent citizens. Of course, being fair minded and impartial, I would put aside my personal feelings and go strictly by law, being sure to acquit on a technicality even though they are guiltier than charged.

The big drawback is that they don't let you address the court yourself.

It would be interesting if I got picked at all, and then if it involved a case concerning some law I don't even think should be on the books. That's when all the wise slogans come in to play--"It's the law!" "No one is above the law" etc.

Chances are, if they get to the point of interviewing me at all, they will quickly send me home.
"So, Mr Ballistic, would you put aside your own feelings and common sense and convict even if the law is stupid, and an ass?"
"No."
"Go home you rebel!"

The courthouse I go to is in El Cajon. Nothing to do about that. I guess it is easier than going all the way to the coast, although I'd almost rather go there.

You can go in up to two weeks prior to the actual day listed on the summons. I think I will go early and get it over with. The biggest drawback is that I can't stand the vibe and atmosphere of anything having to do with the crime and punishment system. It seems so arbitrary and unyielding, and capricious. I have almost no faith in the system at this point. The concept and how it is supposed to work, I understand, but it hasn't worked that way for a very long time. Riffraff slides by while people who mind their own business and don't work for government are at greatest risk of harassment. Or so it seems.

People on their own turf, in a building they can lock down, who carry guns and disarm you at the door, are hard for me to trust. I suppose I am inordinately predisposed to some sort of phobia toward the type of authority you find in the garden variety courthouse. I'll need to be sure not to answer questions in a way that puts me on Homeland security's list of people who don't go along. Distrust and dislike of government are considered signs of mental illness, or they are trying to establish that view. Now, whether the distrust and paranoia are well founded is irrelevant. You do what you are told and you better like it, young man. And I don't mean perhaps.

So, I will try to behave. They may actually have accidentally rounded up some real criminals by mistake.

The BIG PRETENSE Continues some more

The complete break from reality I am hearing as a response to the killings in Tucson is as frightening as the fact that there are complete lunatics running loose. It may be uncool to disagree when Palin or Tea Party people are up for scorn and ridicule, but I tend to think the truth is less uncool.

Sarah Palin is not the culprit here. The insane talk I've heard re talk radio and anything not left wing is so far out of the park that those people would never convince me of anything. Did they ever listen to Air America? There was serious hate expressed over the air, and many suggestions of ways to kill Bush, Cheney, and others. Also many odd sexual references which would have presumably not been fun for the victim. I do not think they were actually inciting assassination, but it was far closer than any of the talk radio being blamed for this murder spree.

The absurd thing is that the guy has not been shown to be a talk radio listener, Sarah Palin fan, or a tea party person. He has been shown to apparently read the Communist Manifesto, Hitler's Mein Kampf, the New Republic magazine.

I find it odd that when a guy, convincingly in league with the islamic jihadists movement, slaughters people on a military base, the same people who spouted their theories about the Tcson guy--painting him to be thick with their political enemies---still have yet to call the islamic lunatic what he is. There was all the caution not to rush to any conclusions, and on and on. Really, it is nuts.

The judge who was assassinated was a relatively conservative judge. A Bush appointee, I believe (which in no way guarantees not being as crazy as one appointed by Obama, or Stalin, himself.), however it does take wind out of sails of those who are painting this thing as a vast right wing conspiracy.

But, divisiveness works. If you ain't one of us, you're one of THEM! And people buy it. I'm not one of either. I'm much closer to those people on the Homeland security list who distrust government, despise an all encompassing authority, and who think if you have to have a government it ought to be held to strict boundaries--which is why they have a constitution--than I am to those who have been pontificating about causes for this murder and suggesting dumbass rules to further their names and power.

People like that obnoxious Joy Behar--really, women like that are such a turn off--think it is a joke and somehow stupid to complain if the ruling authority violates its boundaries. That is now the chic thing to say--oh what's with this constitution loving going on?
Idiots. No point explaining it. (There are people who use the word, but they don't read it or understand it either. And I think it gives government too much power--but nothing close to the power it has taken anyway)

So, we'll do like they did when other figures were shot and blame everything and everyone except the shooter. They've gone from "we all bear the blame. Ours is a sick society", to "It's because we got fried in the last election. It is the ugly talk of the election that did this. And talk radio". Gimme a friggin break.

I listen to both sides of the spectrum and catch radio frequently. There are things I think are off or incorrect, but I never have heard any of the usual suspects even begin to promote violence, or even intimidation by shouting and all that. I can't say the same for the Al Franken crowd. I had a hell of a time listening when he was on with, I can't think of that guy's name--they had a guy that was so angry and full of hate he couldn't issue a simple declarative statement of fact and back it up. It was sad. Really, that guy makes Hannity seem not at all annoying. And I find Hannity a bit annoying. I find all talk show people annoying who butt in when a caller is trying to say something. Half the time they jump to conclusions and don't get what is being said.

Even so, that won't spark the unstable to kill judges and democrats. It is more likely to spark people of that sort to assault the radio hosts.

OK. I spent too long. The problem is, that due to the Big Pretense, they are implying that speech and who can use it, and how, should be more closely monitored--controlled. And of course the complete morons of the world assume that making more gun laws will change everything.

All the while we still ignore the fact that everyone knows exactly which neighborhoods they can enter if they want to get shot, raped, tortured, beat, and/or robbed. And we'll pretend it is not a racial matter. Whatever the reasons for it, obviously it has been handled in some way that made it worse. Probably because people pretended right was wrong and up was down.

You cannot fix anything by pretending something other than the problem is the problem. Academia types have become addicted to the big pretense. I heard some twits on NPR talking in that reasoned affected academic tone about the ins and outs of all the causes of the Tuscon event. Like they have a clue.

I have a clue. The biggest problem which underlies everything is the goddam Big PRETENSE.

Break on Through to the Other Side

It felt like fourth and ten, and I had to go for it. Do or die.

That sounds very lame, dramatic, and a little cliche. Sorry. I'm a fan of going for it on fourth down. I like it when that happens. This is why I don't gamble in the context of betting or in casinos. I tend to jump without a parachute, so to speak. From high places.

This all has little to do with the barrier I'm talking about, even if it was beginning to seem like it. My barrier was that I was stuck on page 99 of my story, and I was thinking it sucks and that it was going to end up boring, slow, and ill conceived. Truthfully, I was thinking that is what you would think, and what anyone who has seen most of what I have up until now thinks.

Then I decided I get nowhere when I concern myself with what you think. No offense. It is just that I know myself well enough to know I care about what you think of any creative endeavor of mine, and it can make or break me if I am not real careful. Past experience tells me to just follow my instincts, and not let it bother me until the project is done. And even then to trust my own judgement.

There have been plenty of examples of this syndrome in my life, and almost without fail, if I yielded to doubts of friends or imagined negative response, it turned out I was wrong to give up on whatever it was. Imagining the rejection and disapproval before a thing is done, excluding the opportunity to fail fair and square, is stupid. OK, call me stupid.

A commitment to finish this thing was made early on. I'm not good at commitment or resolution. I have a friend back in NC who is solid like that. When JT resolves to do something, it is done. Doesn't matter how much hardship is involved. Matters out of his control may baffle him, but if he said he'd move the Empire state building to LA, brick by brick, by hand, using only a hammer, a trowel, and a wheelbarrow, he'd do it or die in the process. I hope he'll never see the need to do that.

Anyway, I was stuck at page 99. Finally I started making notes on a notepad trying to resolve a situation in the story. I forgot all about what anyone else may think. It has been a long time since I've written much with pen and paper, in my own script.

It still has to be typed now, and added to the ever growing file, and some things expanded from outline form, but I am way past page 100, and it feels like it is gaining some momentum. Blind faith. That's the foundation. I plow on because I have faith it will work out. Maybe not exactly how I think it will, but close enough, and possibly better. Possibly worse. The big deal here is to finish what I started.

The 100 page mark is a big deal. In my mind it is the crucial barrier to break. After that you're riding with the wind. Once it is finished, then I will edit the entire thing. And then I'll see what others have to say. Maybe during the editing process I'll allow limited, selective input--which I'll probably fight, ignore, and eventually heed. Then, we'll see.

The real story is baking in the back of my mind and I want to write it when this one is done. It's likely to have a lot more violence in it, but not because the topic is violent.

In short, the 100 page barrier has been shattered.

Those Without a Clue Find Blind Faith Useful

It helps to have a few obligations here and there in the realm of work and else--bills excluded. I do not find the same usefulness in obligations of that nature that some do. That's because I live with my head in the clouds, or so I was told once or twice. No argument.

That brings me to a pressing question: What the heck is synthetic oil made of if it isn't oil? I got a good deal so I put it in the car this time. Still determined to do the oil changes myself. After much worry and anxiety, I did the plugs last oil change. They aren't super easy to get to and I was worried about opening a can of worms, especially after reading some forum posts regarding changing plugs in a car like mine. Just like most math teachers, they made it seem more complicated than it is.

Finally, I decided I was being a wimp and underselling myself to think that I couldn't find a way to install plugs, not lose the socket down the deep abyss, and not cross thread the things even though they are 20 feet down in a hole. It was not much more trouble than changing oil.

See, that was an example of blind faith. I knew no one who had done it on this type car, and had no step by step guide. Experience and logic told me which wires went to the spark plugs, so, as is so often the case, I just followed the electricity. In hindsight I should have done it while the engine was running, then sued because no clearly legible placards in my language of choice were posted telling me not to change spark plugs while the engine is running. Where's John Edwards when you need him? Oh, I guess his late wife wondered the same thing.

Gives NC a bad name. Too bad. Tar Heels are the salt of the earth. Really.

In my defense, I will say I had to remove a thing or two; some of the stuff they have on late model cars whose purpose is either well disguised, unknown, or non existent. I love these new plugs whose electrodes don't look like the old type, and which don't require gapping. Made of plutonium or uranium or something. DO NOT EAT.

Once again, blind faith. How could I be sure these funny looking things would work at all? Ponder that while you eat my dust. A bit of Subris there. If you missed it, that's the condition of subaru smugness. Actually, I don't fit the Subaru mold any more than I fit the vegetarian stereotype. For that I am grateful, I think.

Stuck at page 100. Need to work out a few things and remove from mind any considerations of what anyone else will think, then I will plow on and finish this thing. Then I can write the other things that have come to mind. I better make notes about them before I forget. Or fall into another cycle of the blues. Yoyo man. That is what I tauntingly call myself these days. Then I resent myself for that and plot ways to beat myself up if I say it again.

Rain and Rain

More rain in Southern California. There was some slight chance of snow at my altitude but it doesn't look like that will happen. Unlike other places I've lived, when it rains here it seems more difficult to ignore it.

It would be nice to once again be in the state of mind I enjoyed for a short period of time several years ago. For what seems like a brief moment I accepted what I am and what I am not and didn't feel apologetic about it. I was less inhibited when it came to being happily strange and what I think was creatively funny. Had to be there to get it.

Lately, the humor is nowhere to be found. It's easier to look at information which does me no good and which I can't change. Always plenty of food for thought and opinion. But I have lost interest in bothering with it. Conspiracies abound, I think. But that is considered mental illness now, suspecting that things are not as they seem in the big picture. If you don't trust your dedicated officials and self proclaimed leaders, you could find yourself on the wrong side of homeland security.

Not me. I believe it is all there for my own good and that various agencies and the Ad Council know best. I've seen the light.

Sometimes I wish I was still married, but I do recall certain things that lead me to believe it is possible that I may not have been in the right place with the right person. Even if I had been clear headed and sober, which I wasn't. That was a generation ago so it bears no relevance now.

Restless is what is going on now. Painfully restless with no thought of why or what I think is the cure. It will come to me. It always comes down to don't give up.

Three Amigos

For some reason, on New Year's Eve, I thought of my three best friends from high school. By all appearances I had many friends at that time, but in reality I only had a very few close friends, and even then I wouldn't say we were all that close. It is all relative.

The thing that struck me was that all three died before reaching the age of 35, and all three in alcohol or drug related circumstances. One died while we were still in high school. He was a person who had taught me a lot and done much to help me out of a shell I was in. He was drunk, and the guy whose car he was sitting on was drunk. That guy had just had a tiff with his girlfriend, hopped in the car and took off. He rounded a corner half a block away and Eddie flew off the trunk and landed on his head on the sidewalk. The driver didn't even know he was there most likely. A week in a coma, and he was gone.

Many people thought Eddie was a nut. He was very bright and sometimes misunderstood, and sometimes he was a nut. We got along and I was glad that he and I always seemed to have an understanding that is not that common. It made it easier to take the loss because I had no regrets in the course of the friendship.

His cousin, David, and I remained good friends, and David proved to be as loyal a friend as I had. He wrecked a car at about age 30, while driving drunk, and that was it. I was long out of Miami by then but tried to find him on my return when I was 35. I did regret losing touch over the years. He was a solid person with a big heart. He drank like I did, at least.

Then there was Marq. Yea, with a Q. Anyway, he was another really bright guy who did not fit the mold, but of all of us he seemed to have the best life skills, and seemed the most likely to be heading up a corporation or otherwise finding success. But Marq liked to live fast and on the edge. He was one to push the envelope. He was maybe 33 when he overdosed on drugs. I'm not sure if it was heroin but I think so. I found out about him when I returned to Miami as well. Keeping contact with him may or may not have been a good idea. It seemed we tended to lead each other closer to the edge.

I think it is just the way of the draw that one of them is not here remembering me instead of how it is. There were many times when it should have or could have been me, long before the last two lives ended. But I seemed to have a guardian angel or very good luck. I could feel it, and on more than one occasion I was stunned at how I'd survived some mishap that seemed sure to be my last.

All of us were riding a roller coaster from the time we were fifteen, and it kept going faster with more sudden turns and dips. I guess I managed to get off before the car I was in completely derailed and crashed. Since then it has still been a roller coaster ride. Maybe I didn't really get off but managed to cut the power to it and it has just been coasting to a stop. Must have been hauling ass for the inertia to have carried so far for so long. It still almost flew off the track a time or two, but nothing like it was during those twenty years of chaos.

I guess when I decided to change the course of things I thought maybe they'd have already straightened out their lives. It was weird to discover they hadn't lasted long enough for us to have that conversation.

This is not meant to be a sad and morbid thing, though it may sound that way. Things are what they are. I remembered them with a feeling that they'd be cheering me on saying "Don't give up". Silly as that sounds, that is how it felt. As much as the current battle has everything to do with not giving up, I appreciated it.

Car Show

A friend said, hey let's go to the car show. Didn't cost me anything, so, OK. I don't really care much about things I am not driving, and couldn't buy if I wanted to.

He's in a related business having to do with replacing and repairing wrecked rides. I thought he'd be into it, what my car people pals in NC called a "car queer". Turns out no.

What was interesting were the people. Old folks on Buicks, everyone on most cars, except the BMW people who were pawing the Beemers--they tend to be more easily identifiable. Very serious and posh sorts.

I thought it would be good to go so technology wouldn't take me by surprise. In reality, there is nothing all that new. Cars I thought were 100% electric have high horse power gas engines to make them practical. Practical if you ignore the purchase price.

Education is always good.

The best part was a wheelchair with half tracks and the low riders we saw lining the street at Chicano park just before entering the freeway on the way home.

They had four or five Packards lined up, then old pontiacs Chevy, etc. All in great shape and all sitting about an inch off the road because the shocks weren't pumped up. Must have been fifty cars or so. A regular weekend event, apparently.

I am suspect of any racist park name but that is how it is. Makes me think they probably hate every iota of a cracker, but maybe the low rider crowd is too busy making their cars shine and jump. I have to get down there again some weekend and see if they kill me or if I have fun.

Who knew jumping low riders were still on the scene? Not I.

And that is pretty much all you need to know about cars in 2011. Oh, and the price of Subarus is about the same as 2008. Also a new word I learned, "Subris", the condition that makes Subaru drivers think they can drive better than everyone else in the rain.

In my case, it is true- rain or shine.

Just the Way I Like New Year's Eve, almost

The number way to bring in the year is to be in the middle of wild, in-love passion just as the clock chimes the midnight hour. Rarely does that timing work out.

The next best thing, if such a source of passion is not part of one's life, is to be up on a quiet mountain in just barely freezing weather, on a perfectly clear, quiet night, safe and secure in a Ballistic Cabin.

This year I am momentarily content. No self pity and woe because the imaginary Mrs and I can't host 24 of our closest friends and their offspring for the weekend in our lovely, comfortable, hospitable villa. I did venture out earlier to a back country gathering of a few people who relish not drinking at times like this.

Before that, I noticed my one TV station had Oprah on. I have not watched Oprah almost ever. Certainly not in many years. Not that I have ill feelings toward her. As a matter of fact I admire her continued success. Such things do not happen to total slackers on a long term basis. She has to have something special going for her, like it or not. We may not agree on some things, but I believe she's a far better person than, say, David Letterman, or many other big names.

Anyway, I was about to cut the sound off again when I realized she was interviewing JK Rowling, of Harry Potter fame. They discussed a bit of what it is like to make a billion dollars. I found it interesting.

JK is hot, if you ask me. But married--go figure. Her thoughts on the books and various topics were things I found somewhat inspirational. She was apparently at rock bottom when this whole thing began 17 years ago. She was told she'd never make money writing what amounted to children's books. So much for the advice of experts.

Then there was the bit about people deciding that her fantasy stories were somehow an affront to one religious belief or other. Really, people miss the whole point. Do those same people think that it is OK to put a hit out on the Satanic Verses guy? OK to kill people over rather innocuous cartoons? Maybe they don't see the parallels, although I doubt they went beyond book burnings and stupid lectures. Take the attitude my nephew did when he was in high school.

He and his brother, along with a couple of other friends made a self recorded little album. They ran off a bunch of copies, along with a little artwork and peddled it at school for $5 a pop. It was called the "S----- Brothers Blues Band". They covered some rather good tunes, particularly classics by Robert Johnson. And it was pretty good.

So, one guy hated N1. He expressed his disdain by purchasing the tape, then throwing it down and stomping it to bits in the hallway. N1 then encouraged any others who hated him to do the same while suggesting his anti-fan buy more to really vent his hatred. No one else publicly destroyed the album, however they did sell out quickly. 500 copies. Some relatives put in orders too late to get one. At one time I had 2 or 3. I jumped on it as soon as I heard what they were up to. Some believed I may have had an influence in the inspiration of the enterprise. Who knows. They surpassed anything I've ever done long ago.

If I could write a book that groups would buy and then burn in protest, I'd encourage it. Buy my book and show your disapproval by using it for outhouse purposes or fueling your fireplace!! I guess it gets riskier when you offend Islam, so maybe that is not a good target group to offend.

But that just makes people like me want to do it. I won't because they and their holy things do not interest me enough to include them in much that I'd write. If things I'd say or do inadvertently offend any such group then such groups are minding business that is not theirs way too much.

Outrage over free speech and its opponents is an odd and inconsistent thing. The press of the western world was largely bullied into not showing the truly inoffensive cartoons that sparked riots and murder, yet they insist on the "people's right to know" in so many instances when obscene, macabre, or much more offensive images, or even items which may have consequences to innocents, are in question.

I dare the artists who push the envelope with Jewish, Buddhist, or Christian imagery to do the same with Islamic icons. I agree that free expression ought to be free, but I find the defense of free expression rather selective and inconsistent in analogous circumstances.

Amazing that JK has actually become a billionaire. She has provided a lot of people much enjoyment and inspiration. She has served to induce people to read who may have otherwise never developed the skill enough to get through half a page.

What was nice was that she seems happy. Oprah may be happier than at some periods, but she seemed slightly less happy, but more used to being mega rich.

I wish everyone a year in which dreams can come true without the long arm of the law taking them away. Things can still happen that are better than you ever believed possible. Don't let The Man or Nitwit News people convince you different. Unless, of course, you feel better doing so.