How to Make Me Vote For 4 More

To sway my vote all that is needed is for Louis Farrakhan, Jesse, and the usual charlatan demagogues to encourage and threaten riots if Romney is not elected.

Then I'll vote the big O and say, riot, you sorry morons, riot.

I can't believe that this sort of underhanded extortionist tactic has not been smashed by both sides.

Good thing I live out in an area where rioters are not likely to tread.  It would be a long hike, and people out here would not observe the same rules of engagement those whose businesses get trashed in riots have to observe.

Nothing on either side of this stupid contest has angered me more than the whispers and proclamations of intended riots.  When you make race a character value in and of itself, this is what results.  And who profits?   The charlatans who control and keep people ignorant and angry.   All based on no value beyond tribal hatred. Al, Jesse, and others who play that game.  Some black, and some white.  Michael Moore attempts to incite racial hatred and class hatred---pretending that under the baseball cap he isn't a disgusting rich fat white man.   It is a money maker, an industry unto itself--if you have the stomach for it and don't mind lying, and inciting violence, even murder.

I guess I'll just mail the ballot in.  No one has threatened to riot if Obama wins, which was dumb of the democrats, because I vote whichever way brings on the threats.

This is another facet of the Great Pretense and I'll go out on a limb and break the taboo code on this subject with the truth.

The truth is, in this century, today, the vast majority of racists who are white are self loathing and prejudiced against whites.  They pretend that they are exempt from their genetic group. Whites are presently the largest group and it is a tiny minority who are racist when it comes to other groups.  The majority of blacks are racist against whites.  Maybe not the 95% or so who vote purely based on race, but a large number.  Groups like La Raza, by their very name, are racist, but may not represent the overwhelming majority of hispanics.  In some areas, hispanics are predominately racist toward whites and blacks.

In the last few years, or so, the encouragement by crooked "leaders" and misguided idiots toward tribalism in the name of ethnic pride and fighting racism where it didn't exist has served to create hatred and mistrust in a very sick way.  The code of the Great Pretense demands that we ignore reality, rewrite present day news and past history in order to pander and appease to the point where we pretend threats of violence based on race, as long as they come from easily consolidated voter blocks, such as inner city blacks, are somehow intellectually valid and not insanely inappropriate.  The more conformist among us and the media will just sweep it under the rug and pretend it isn't what it is.  So many other areas of life have been dealt with in this manner as we've accepted the general tenets of Pretending that it comes quite naturally now.

Regardless of the election outcome, what has become a mass pretense won't change much.  We are still under a spell that has caused us to lose sight of what freedom is, and what actually defines the word "rights".  It is a slow process of selling out which took a longer time than I've been alive.  Blind acceptance of so many strange things; from foreign policy to government-business partnerships (so-called crony capitalism), to pretending the democrats were the party of civil rights, which they were not.  Not to give republicans a pass.  They gave us the TSA.  And both have put soldiers in harm's way when they could have done better.  But even in military matters there is a Great Pretense.  We're there--wherever--to win hearts and minds, so don't shoot until they shoot you.  Win hearts and minds?  Are these people really that stupid or insane?  I doubt it.  We just don't know what their real goals must be.  Psychotic or sociopathic would better describe it.

But we go along for fear of being accused of lack of patriotism or of being racist.  Screw that.   And in some circles, if you don't go along with the prescribed program, and you disagree, then you aren't "really" black, even though you are black.  Remember when the usual charlatans were debating whether Obama was "black enough"?   Those people should be jeered off the stage, or the pulpit.  But who wants to experience the wrath of the mindless mob?

The Pretense tends to taint debate on everything, even abortion.  It is assumed that if you don't want to pay for someone else's mishap that you are depriving them of reproductive freedom.  You want to supply me with suitable sex partners, and I'll be the judge of that, then maybe I'll consider chipping in for everyone else's birth control, and after the fact adjustments.  Or not.  That is one discussion which has become way out of bounds.  It is legal to have an abortion.  Some people don't like that and say so. It is still legal, and would be tough to change.  Paying for it is another animal.  Tying having it paid for by others to allowance or denial reproductive rights is an illegitimate stretch.  Reproduce if you can.  Smoke em if you got em.  But remove the pretense from the discussion.

Country Guitar Kindness

A guitar player, who also plays bass, drums, and harmonica, and has played country since forever gave me this delay pedal the other day.  

We were talking about what I like to play through, amp wise, and I mentioned that the main thing other than the amp was a delay, and I'm set.  I have all the microphones I need for the moment.  I always come back to the Audix Fireball anyway.  The next step up would be a very costly mic and I have no call for that unless I am playing scenes which I am not now playing or likely to play.

that's all I need for now, just the basic delay with proper controls. The Bassman will do well with this I think.

I found the generosity quite touching.  Cliff and Linda and I were over at this guy's house and he went into his workshop/music gear room and came out with this delay pedal.  He said he has a few of them.  He does have the gear, no doubt.  He and his wife have hosted some cool events at his house with the PA set up on his back patio, with a lot of musicians playing.

There is a bit of that going on in East county and around San Diego.

I guess I'll start using amps more and maybe bringing the delay and my own mic with me to some of these things.  It could be worth it.  Not much call for the amps just yet though.  That may change when we get out and about with the people I've been practicing with in Poway.  Why not ride with it even if I wonder if I'm nuts.

Deed is Done; Official Ballot Marked and Sealed

My number one motive for getting my official mail in ballot marked and sealed in its envelope was to avoid spilling coffee or food sauce on it.  The longer it floated around this hovel, the higher the risk for an aborted suffrage situation.

I wonder if anyone received a ballot marked "unofficial"

I did a little background checking on some of the propositions on the ballot.   In one case an allegedly neutral random citizen committee redrew lines for voting districts.   Do I want to go with their plan?   How do I know?  Let me check out this committee and see what's up.

A typical condescending pretense.  A committee of professional busy-bodies, most of whom have never lived life in the real world, or else they spent their entire adult lives with an ax to grind because Mom and Dad were sad and lonely.

So, No, I doubt that committee is less corrupt and misguided than whatever it is they were to change.

School boards, and this and that board or commission of vague purpose, I voted those whose titles indicated some real life private sector experience, plus one military guy who I think might be outspoken and intimidating to the others.  I almost wrote you in but wasn't sure if y'all wanted the job.

Now do I send in my vote to help get the momentum going my way, or do I wait until the last minute so I can cast the deciding vote that saves the world?   I'm leaning toward getting the momentum  going. That is what leaders do, they lead.  Besides, what if I lose the sealed envelope?  Better to get it in the mail so someone else can lose it.

I'm having trouble suspending disbelief in this process.  They open the ballot, and see who I voted for or against, and I'm to believe the noble state employees in CA will not do their best to queer my voting deal?   I don't buy it.  And I obviously did not vote in the way that hard core public sector people would vote.

Despite my previous post, I went the route of maximum freedom, least cost.   I voted down a measure to tax those who make 250k or more some additional amount for the next seven years for two reasons.  One, I think it is very dangerous when a person can vote to tax another and be exempt himself.   Two, I do not think this will do anything but chase more people in that income category, and small businesses, out of state.  They abuse the money they have.

It was fun trying to vote for three or four out of a list of names which were all unfamiliar to me.  I ruled out names if they were prosecutors, cops, lawyers in general, or appeared to be lifelong public employees.  I voted for a couple of nurses, small business people, engineers.  Doesn't mean they aren't Bolsheviks, but they are less likely to be sadistic wackos who love to cage people or beat them with sticks.  Less likely.  That is the best I can do.

This may be the year that The Great Pretense, in all its many incarnations, finally implodes in on itself, or explodes on everyone and everything.  Just like the Mayan Calendar said.  Really, I have no idea what the Mayan calendar said.  I don't think those who tell us what it says actually know.

It ends soon.  They probably just figured they'd mapped out stuff far enough into the future for the time being and took a break.  Or else they figured out this would be when the Great Pretense became impossible to sustain.  In one way I hope so.  In another I don't because things will get messy for awhile when the overdo 21st century Enlightenment flashes onto the scene.

This has got to be as un-secret as having my picture taken with the list of my voting choices.  My name is printed on the outside of the ballot envelope and I have to sign the outside as well.  Gee, I wonder whose ballot it is we are pulling from this envelope?  I guess the best check in this system is that so many CA public workers and officials are morons and may be stumped by that question.

I only regret that I didn't make sufficient copies to confuse the process.  I was even unsure on one measure.  To do it over, I'd vote the other way on that.  Oh well, let us hope this particular measure is never one that touches me personally.

I did vote to weaken three strikes.  Take away the barroom tough talk and look at reality and you know this has been abused and is a way to take incompetent judges and dishonest others in the justice system off the hook.  Let baseball be baseball and life be a little more rational.

Oh, for one of the school board things I voted for a kid named Zack, who is a student at a local university.  I pictured myself at that age, having nerve to get on the ballot.  Maybe it was a dare.  You know he'll be thrilled to get elected, or get any votes.  And his name is Zack.  That's a name you can trust.  His odds are good.  There were 8 slots and only 13 choices.

Reminds me when there was a write in campaign at my last college to grace me with an honorary degree.  They had a suggestion box for such purposes.  I won't say that this effort in no way included me, but it did get legs and many people submitted that suggestion even when I wasn't supervising.

Flip Flop

Maybe I have finally lost it, or found it, or neither.

Suddenly I realized that I need pressure.  I need to be told, loosely, but not all that loosely, what to do.  Make it look like I am self supervising, but present impossible tasks and problems to be solved yesterday with just about 72% of the resources normally required to get the job done.  That is my best element.

So, this obviously means that I do need the elite to run my life from a distance.   Good thing I didn't send in any of my official election ballots, or copies.  I may vote the complete opposite of what I had in mind.

Who needs freedom when they only waste it?  I have been so blind.   No, the people who mysteriously "fight" for my class, and my future deserve my vote and a big piece of any money I may make.  Or if I don't make any, they will help me out.  The point is that I wouldn't even know what fighting for the middle, left, or right class is, so how could I ever do it myself?

Maybe it is upper and lower rather than left and right.  Middle must be the best one because that is the one everyone is talking about.

No way this is working.  I need a crazy high pressure job with incompetent crooks at the levels above me and I need no time to be confused and think about these class fights, or fighting for class.   Whatever it is.

Many times I try to write what is really going on or what I fear or what I think, but I can't do it.  There is a barrier to that.  I can't really tell the truth.  Sometimes I hint, but then I wonder what is really the truth.

I think I'll catch some sun out east of here tomorrow to try to heal this dread illness which has lasted almost a week.  It has improved daily since maybe wed. or thurs.  Tues was the worst and wed. wasn't good.

My biggest fear is that I will never change.  I really hate to waste the little time there is, and I think I will because that is the only thing I am good at, wasting wealth in any form; money, intelligence, connections, talent, anything.

That means freedom is wasted on me, so I will now become one of the neo-bolsheviks and people will like me and I can make snarky comments to shoot down philosophical points rather than try to use reason. And I can blame all the happy people for making me sad and lonely.

Vote Early and Often, I Do

That could be slightly misleading and unnecessarily self incriminating, however I am never sure I've broken laws when I actually read the text of them.   I know it is illegal to run into the mall doing a happy dance naked while selling hashish candy, yet if I were to read the applicable statutes and codes, I'll bet I'd be tempted to fulfill that naked, happy, drug-food selling, enterprise fantasy.

But, law schmaw, I say.  Who needs no schteenkink law?  This is California, home of sunshine and Moonbeam.

So, my official election ballot arrived in the mail.  My neighborhood is a mail in voting deal, by default.   I think I could change that if I cared to go through the bureaucracy to do it.  My theory is that the least amount of business I conduct with governments of all levels, the better off I am.

That may come from the fact that I may have just managed to squeak under the radar long enough had I ignored the draft way back when.  But no, I made sure I was on top of things, so they suspended the draft while I was in basic training for the boy scouts.  Air Force basic, actually.  Much the same, I'd think.  Believe it or not, at that time, and probably still holds, the USAF had a measurably brighter level of enrollment than the other services.   Working the mess hall on KP made me acutely aware that if this was the cream of the crop, our crop was seriously troubled.

Would it be unseemly to sell my ballot to the highest bidder?  That may be illegal, but no ID is involved. Just sign and mail it in.

I worry that if I do it too soon, my vote will have no impact.  If some issue is really close, and I wait until the end to send in my vote, then maybe my vote will be the deciding one that saves the day.  It is always the last votes that decide things, so the first ones may as well just be tossed out.  Right?

We've got lots of propositions on the ballot here in CA.  Some are easy and straightforward.  Some are a little trickier.  Often things sound good but turn out to have little hidden pockets of evil lurking behind happy faces.

They have one that eases some of the draconian possibilities in the three strikes law.  I'm sorry, but I find the three strikes thing a bit worrisome from the get go.  You have crimes.  You have punishments.  Then you have a law taken loosely from baseball and baseball metaphors.  The problem is that it is a wide open opportunity for anything from vendetta to racism to corruption to further cloud justice.

Handle the regular laws right, make it ok to shoot people who threaten you and yours, and forget these sports allegory things.  How about if someone is arrested four times and beats the rap each time, he gets a total reset like a first down?  Maybe give him a get out of jail free card for his efforts.

If you think long enough you can come up with three strike situations, four ball circumstances, maybe something akin to ruffing the passer, and on and on.  We can eventually just meld all criminal law with sports rules from popular games.  I suspect the scrabble and chess nerds will not get a fair showing but will gleefully complain.

Most crime problems have to do with The Great Pretense and stupid philosophies which prohibit people from protecting themselves and their property.  That coupled with the fact that it is safer for police to harass those who can pay the fines, yet don't have any power, than it is for them to go in busting gangs.  Anyway, three strikes may sound emotional satisfying, but it is nonsense which avoids the real issues.   The real issue being that the Great Pretense approach has not worked out very well.

OK.  I think I'll photocopy my ballot and vote now, then again later when it might be the decisive difference which changes the world.

Debate Digest vol 2012-2

Tonight they had what is called a "debate". 

When Hilary ran, she called everything a "conversation". That is still used in lieu of "debate", "discussion" and other words that hit the mark better than "conversation" in many contexts.  Hillary gave that one legs.


 The only useful thing about a vice presidential debate is that it keeps us from having a debate between first spouses or candidates' kids (hope I didn't give them any ideas).  I guess it gives you someone to yell at through the screen, too.

 People have less use for vice presidents than they do for first spouses. Except for me, I have no use for the stupid first lady crusades, and wish they'd all go be quiet and quit spending tax money.

 I'm probably not of the majority view on that matter, not sure. It seems people are all for such unelected royalty garbage if they are in agreement with the First Cause du jour.   They miss the principle or just don't care.


Tonight in  nutshell

"If I'm lying, Lord, bring a bolt of lightening down upon this infidel sitting to my left!"

Getting Away despite the plague

Had to get out even though I did not feel like driving much. As you can see, looking east was sunny and nice, then driving seven miles west and facing west, the heavy clouds came rolling in. Big surprise, we may get some rain tomorrow, and I have to work tomorrow, sick or not. Few places I've lived offer such easy escape and great scenery. Maybe nowhere I've lived was as conducive to escaping the madding crowd. Odd that I would find that in Southern California. The state is nutso, yet it is geographically swell. Except for the constant fire fears. I do not care for that.

Hot Ginger Tea

This odd illness, which acts much like a cold, drags on.   I noticed this and decided it was time to pull in the big guns.

Until a little while ago I was using over the counter cold/flu/tumor/and else medicines, along with some PM cough formula.  I have not been overdoing the dosage since it doesn't take much for me to react.

The store bought stuff has been doing OK, but it tries my patience when 100% of any airflow through my nose is blocked.  So, the only hope I know is Hot Ginger Tea.  It is not all that tasty, but who in this condition can taste well?

By Hot Ginger Tea I mean any form of ginger available.  I boil a cup of water in the microwave.  I dump in a bunch of ginger from a seasoning can which claims to contain ground ginger.  I add some milk or half and half.  I had milk.  Then I add some sugar; honey would be first choice but yo no lo tengo.

this must be raw form ginger.  as you can see it runs around on its belly and you can't tell what's an arm or leg for sure.  hunters use leaf blowers with a hose on the sucking side to convert the device into a giant vacuum cleaner--best way to ginger hunt.

The Tea is sipped while one contemplates the dark night, the odd sounds from the mule down the way, and items about life which are both uplifting and down-lifting.   One sip and I noticed that I could breath gently through my nose.

It took me over a decade, from the first time this cure was suggested to me, for me to actually try it.  Since then I have bullied and bored friends by singing the praises of Hot Ginger Tea every time the topic strays to the difficulties of sore throats or extreme congestion due to various illnesses.  One out of maybe ten people who have been told of this miracle have actually tried it.  Most suffer in uncomfortable, know-it-all, congestive smugness.

this is the Ginger Rogers variety of Ginger.  Much harder to catch, and much preferred over the little herd animal shown above.

I think the next really good instrumental piece I create will be called Hot Ginger Tea.  Maybe it could be a regular song.  I throw in some things to get a rating label banning kids from buying my album.  That will boost my sales to minors.

Stranger Days Than Some, but not others

So, the old open mic circuit seems to be shuffling around some.  I know the people who appear to be the kingpins, who set up the sound, such as it is.  But I don't know what they really do, why, or where they dwell.

That is all irrelevant.   I attended the one at the Moose lodge and it was, I don't know, just was.   Fantastic stage, bit hall, not so good a PA was brought in, and the guy did not know how to run it in this hall.  Result; instruments loud, and a little too muddy on the bass side, and vocals too weak.

Then there was the one over the weekend, by the courthouse where I have Halloween jury duty.  It worked well enough.  Same PA as the one at the Moose place.  They have big moose heads here and there on the wall.  I wondered if perhaps these meese had insulted the prohet, pbuh, or drawn cartoons, which resulted in the good, old fashioned beheading.

This observation alerted me to the possibility that this alleged Moose lodge may be a front for radical islamists who behead moose for carrying freedom of expression too far.  It is curious that PETA is nowhere to found in such cases, which leads me to believe they have a political agenda which subverts their alleged true concern for animals.  Everyone is afraid of the soldiers for the religion of peace, even PETA and NOW.

At one of these things, the local who title's himself Harmonica John was playing.  He had a wild looking female singer with him.   He sits there on a stool, playing guitar and sometimes playing a harmonica in one of those brackets that collars the neck.  Dylan used that.

HJ is a good player, for sure.  I would never name myself harmonica john, since so many others play and it implies a "one and only" boast.   I have cautioned people who tried to tag that label on me that it is a wrong thing to do.

Anyway, I was roped into going up on stage with this egomaniac, against both my wishes and better judgement.  People do no always see the underhanded antics going on with musicians.  I have come to be able to spot them fairly quickly.  Nothing I could do about it in this case.

I asked the key and fortunately received a quick reply.  I could tell the guy was about to explain to me how to crossharp but I turned to grab my harp, ignoring him. "Well, WE'RE in G, but....".

He'd just given me a lecture about microphone usage.  Not a lecture really, but a little nonsense designed to mark territory.  I knew the song would be something I'd never heard, with progressions which I'd never seen and which were in no way catchy or memorable.  I was right.  Any halfway decent harp player knows how to throw curves. And he's plenty good enough, I'll give him that.  But there is a smallness in sacrificing courtesy for a competition in which only the host cares to compete.

I muddled my way through and got out of there soon as I could.  Whether HJ actually succeeded in making me look inferior, I can't say.  I doubt he managed it too well.  I didn't bite, so I was able to give a wave as if I'd enjoyed the charade and get out of there.  You run into a lot of that sometimes. Too many people had been telling this guy about me and I do not think he liked it.  Don't blame him.

What do people think when they tell one performer how much they like another performer who plays the same instrument, or does the same thing?   No one wants to entertain that garbage. They just don't.  So, what my lovely friends end up doing is making enemies for me before I even meet certain people.  I might have been able to get along and learn something, but when I am met with less than Southern courtesy and hospitality, I don't return.

And now, for the first time in years, I have the congestion cold flu virus of unknown origin,  It is unacceptable.  I thought Obama was going to cure all that.  The damned slacker has not put gas in my car, paid my rent, or cured my illness.  He didn't even give me a phone.

It is probably nothing more serious than ebola.  I think I may live.

Times like this cause me to look back in self hatred for allowing myself to skate into this future without a compassionate woman at my side.   Then again, most who got away weren't that compassionate.  I can see it now,  "Oh, you poor baby.   I'd hug you but I don't want to get sick.  I'm going to stay at my friendd's/mothers/a hotel until this thing passes.  There's plenty of soup in the kitchen.  Just heat it up or whatever.
  Seeya!"

So, in reality, I am not missing that support and unconditional love I try to con myself into believing I could have had.   I'm not sure which picture is sadder.

Nowhere Else to Turn

The more I hear and see religious movements and rationale for one sort of intrusiveness on individual rights or another, the less inclined I am to embrace their tenets.   I don't despise religious beliefs, in general, except when they involve stoning and inhibiting mobility; stopping traffic and passage.

Live and let live is rarely encouraged by most holy people if they are given opportunity to have power over strangers.  That puts me off.

Even so, when it comes down to it in my own life battles, I find the only place to turn in desperation is to something far inside and yet far outside myself.  There has to be something which is a source, for want of a better word, which can clear the fog in me which inhibits productive action and peace of mind.  It matters not whether it is real and tangible or not.  One thing I know, and that is that all that is is not necessarily visible or detectable through the normal senses.  Science backs me up on this.  So does experience.

this is from a few years ago, my first time at the very left edge of the continent


I find it hard to justify by logical proof, yet certain experiences, and the fact I am still in this life, cause me to believe some thing or invisible entities have influenced matters in my life a time or two.  It would be swell if they'd come fix me now.

And there is some fixing to do, I can tell you that.  The stupid part is that I should be able to do the better part of it myself.  It is like trying to drive with the parking brake firmly engaged.  Why I have trouble releasing it is the question.  And knowing it needs releasing, what's stopping me from doing it?

I'm trying to straighten out the trivia that clutters my environment, my mind and life, yet the brake is there in a way I feel.  Like trying to keep your eyes open in a boring lecture and losing the battle.  For motivation, I am attempting to convince myself that I can become more available to have a hot woman in my life.  One who won't just bring drama and crazy trouble.

Already the drama and crazy trouble variety cross paths now and then, but I've learned to sting and run before becoming embroiled in all that.  It is not the way to go.

Maybe I will never be better, good enough for what I want.

In the mean time I'll run political campaigns like an armchair quarterback, and try to avoid owning a handgun or lethal doses of morphine.

It seems trite to discuss spiritual aspects of life, claiming I'm not religious but I'm spiritual.  What's that even mean?  Maybe I'm not religious but I'm a desperado.  And I'm sure angels like me.  Despite myself, I'm sure something other dimensional and fairly powerful likes me because I'm unusually lucky in ways that I outwardly do not deserve.  But, perhaps there are reasons which aren't all that visible which earn me the consideration I've received.  Not to be immodest, but I suspect so.

Now, to exercise simple courtesy by taking care of the gifts I've received.  That is the key, the problem, and the goal.

I still believe in elves and angels.