It seems my eyes have become heavy nimbus clouds, raining an ocean. No other explanation for it. Climate change. I know it hasn't always been like this. Probably a serious thing. Or not.
A very competent professional once told me that a lot of people who cross that line into permanent insanity, or maybe severe depression, actually have some awareness of the point at which they gave up the fight and the hope.
That is actually useful information because I've often felt myself approaching the doorway to that room, but chose not to enter. Not today. That's what I tell myself. Not today. The choice is still there. To have choices is to have power. Believing one is free to choose gives hope.
So, let it rain. That's OK. Just don't drown. Some things can't be helped, but more often than not there are different ways to react to those things. Choices. Not like the best of the options leads to eternal bliss or riches, but any shred of power over one's predicament is better than nothing.
I still haven't picked up the practice harp. I have a couple of Hohner Golden melodies, couple of Lee Oskars, and a couple of Bushman's which I have handy for practice. Plus the amazing Susuki Easy Rider, a very cheap harmonica which, in this case has lasted a very long time and plays well. It happens. That's the one I have yet to bring back from its place in exile across the room.
I did go play with my mountain friends at K and L's last night. These are nice people. C and his wife, L2, (two different L names so we have L and L2) were there too. We ended up singing Christmas songs, including 12 days of Christmas. L had the words and she, L, and I rotated verses.
Mine were the three French Whores, lords a leaping, swans a swimming. I know, French Horns, or is it Hens, is the proper thing. Just how it worked out. Perhaps wishful thinking. Wasn't my idea. I was told what to sing. I prefer the way we did it.
It would have been rude not to play in that situation, but I can't play at home right now. And I am not going to any of the other usual things this week. There is a request to play at some kind of party with the 12 string guy, so I may do that. I won't know anyone there and maybe some magic angel will be there to heal me.
Home alone is when the weather changes and I am in less control of it. Most problems occur in or near the home. That tells me that long distance travel is probably the best way to avoid trouble.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Uh oh, Penn Wins Own Award, Edging Out Foxx
“He’s one of the most important forces we’ve had on this planet,” the actor said at the candlelight vigil for the health of the Venezuelan president, who is currently in Cuba undergoing his fourth cancer surgery.
I guess if anyone reading this is fool enough to believe Chavez and his idol, Castro, are good human beings, then that person sees nothing wrong with theft or murder, and probably would assume this sycophant of foreign dictators and thugs, Sean Penn, is a hero.
It's beyond words. Really. Is it something in the water, or the air?
Sorry, Jamie Foxx, Sean Penn just edged you out for the Sean Penn Righteous Fool Award for Dec. 2012. You're still going to get the Al Sharpton Racist Jackass Prize, though, so chin up!
.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Maybe Time to Quit Again
Playing the stupid blues harp used to be fun. Sometimes. At the very least it was a way for me to scream and cry without anyone knowing that was what it was about for me. The one place I could express whatever that gut knotting conflict that consumes me is. Sometimes.
There were times that I threw away the harmonicas--out the car window--and quit for a year or so. There were times I did other, more productive, intellectually challenging things. That must have been a long time ago.
In my usual foggy, delusional view of life, I had come to think I was at least a mediocre and somewhat original player. Then the subject of Orange Blossom Special came up, and there was a guy who can play it well.
I still cannot play it. Not only do I just not get it, but whatever it is that you have to do to play it right seems beyond the capability of how my body is made. Can't do it!! Can't can't can't.
On top of that I do not even like it that well. I admire those who can play it, and kudos to them. It's a friggin fiddle tune, and unless it is played like a mellow violin, I don't much like fiddle. Only sometimes do I like bluegrass. Nothing wrong with it but it does not hit me where I live.
I tried to figure out the OBS again, and got so frustrated I threw the harmonica across the room, and I refuse to go pick it up. Right now if I get near it I will smash it under my shoe. Too bad no boots are handy. I do have a sledge hammer, though.
If I cannot play that tune and play it as it should be played, I must be much worse than mediocre. I'm no good at all. Nice people around here but I wish I had never started playing with them. They get the kind of country music that I don't and they like orange blossom hell.
I'm going to avoid the next two or three get togethers where people play, and often ask me to sit on things I don't know, don't like, and don't understand. It has ceased being fun because that gut thing gets no outlet with this stuff. And seeking out more bluesy or rocking venues would mean dealing with less likable musicians. Everyone's a badass in some of that, or drunk or drugged, and I don't like anyone right this minute.
I can't turn down the group up here on the mountain if they expect me to come play tomorrow night, but after that I may lay off for a long time.
It isn't that I even want to play that tune, although tune gives it more clarity than I think it deserves. It is a classic in some circles. I wish only fiddles were allowed to play it. It is that I should be able to do it. If I could I would play it once, then tell people that's the first and last time. But I can not do it.
It makes me want to drink, I swear. And move away. And I hate being me, even though I wouldn't want to be anyone else I know, just maybe be sane like some people I know.
Weird how the most insignificant thing can set a person into a psychotic self-destructive rage. Or at least make you feel like you are inches away from letting reality go completely. That's my life. One tiresome, losing battle against nothing.
I do have a theory about Orange BS and some of the other music I just don't feel. I may not be white enough. It's kind of a reverse on Steve Martin's Jerk. Then again, I'm not very black either. I'm not even sure I'm human.
There were times that I threw away the harmonicas--out the car window--and quit for a year or so. There were times I did other, more productive, intellectually challenging things. That must have been a long time ago.
In my usual foggy, delusional view of life, I had come to think I was at least a mediocre and somewhat original player. Then the subject of Orange Blossom Special came up, and there was a guy who can play it well.
I still cannot play it. Not only do I just not get it, but whatever it is that you have to do to play it right seems beyond the capability of how my body is made. Can't do it!! Can't can't can't.
On top of that I do not even like it that well. I admire those who can play it, and kudos to them. It's a friggin fiddle tune, and unless it is played like a mellow violin, I don't much like fiddle. Only sometimes do I like bluegrass. Nothing wrong with it but it does not hit me where I live.
I tried to figure out the OBS again, and got so frustrated I threw the harmonica across the room, and I refuse to go pick it up. Right now if I get near it I will smash it under my shoe. Too bad no boots are handy. I do have a sledge hammer, though.
If I cannot play that tune and play it as it should be played, I must be much worse than mediocre. I'm no good at all. Nice people around here but I wish I had never started playing with them. They get the kind of country music that I don't and they like orange blossom hell.
I'm going to avoid the next two or three get togethers where people play, and often ask me to sit on things I don't know, don't like, and don't understand. It has ceased being fun because that gut thing gets no outlet with this stuff. And seeking out more bluesy or rocking venues would mean dealing with less likable musicians. Everyone's a badass in some of that, or drunk or drugged, and I don't like anyone right this minute.
I can't turn down the group up here on the mountain if they expect me to come play tomorrow night, but after that I may lay off for a long time.
It isn't that I even want to play that tune, although tune gives it more clarity than I think it deserves. It is a classic in some circles. I wish only fiddles were allowed to play it. It is that I should be able to do it. If I could I would play it once, then tell people that's the first and last time. But I can not do it.
It makes me want to drink, I swear. And move away. And I hate being me, even though I wouldn't want to be anyone else I know, just maybe be sane like some people I know.
Weird how the most insignificant thing can set a person into a psychotic self-destructive rage. Or at least make you feel like you are inches away from letting reality go completely. That's my life. One tiresome, losing battle against nothing.
I do have a theory about Orange BS and some of the other music I just don't feel. I may not be white enough. It's kind of a reverse on Steve Martin's Jerk. Then again, I'm not very black either. I'm not even sure I'm human.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Vere Ah Your Paypahs? hmmmm?
Coming soon; random obesity checks---How much do you vay? (for those who've never known even a taste of 4th amendment rights, that is a reference to the oppression of the nazis circa WWII)
I've had time to cool off, but I'm doing a slow burn, with pent up rage aimed at every idiot teacher, cop, and adult in America who is too damned bull-headed to comprehend how irritating tyranny can be. And how their compliance will come back on all of us, and already has.
Only a mile or so down the road from my house, on the way to Descanso, the Border Patrol decided to set up a make shift road block. Not just for an hour or so. They may be there for days for all I know.
Hardly anyone ever takes that road. Most people get groceries and such in Alpine. The road loops between the two towns. It is 2 lane. You see more animals than people. I live in the sticks, partly because I am sick of officialdom.
Today, as I was headed to Descanso post office, I encountered the orange cones and 5 mph signs. I noticed the trailer on the side of the road which contained elevated big lights. I slowed and went through, no stop.
A few hours later, I came home that way, which I often do because the road is usually empty enough that I can put the car in neutral and glide the last 3 miles. I like that road. The bright lights were blazing, the border patrol cars had their cop lights flashing and they forced anyone coming through to stop.
"What country are you a citizen of?", I was asked. "U S A", I replied, although inwardly I was thinking "The Independent Republic of F$%^ YOU! and the bastards who hired you!"
I know Mexico is maybe 10 miles further south, but that does not constitute probable cause for stopping me, shining a flashlight at me, and through the back windows of my car to see what I have in there. By rights I could have refused to answer, demanding to know why I was being asked and if there was any reason to suspect me for doing something illegal.
If I were here illegally, and got stopped by a local cop, the cop is not supposed to ask me anything. You give up that privacy if you are a citizen, I think.
It is a problem created by government. Insane drug laws, and insane tax methods. Go to the Fair Tax, just can the drug laws and forget it.
The thinking is the same that grade school teachers used when they would hold the entire class hostage until someone either fessed up to some indiscretion, or someone else told on the perp. Half the time, most of us had no idea what was the crime that set the "educator" on the warpath.
This has gone on so long that most people have no idea what freedom, even a little of it, is supposed to be. You are not supposed to have to prove your innocence at the whim of authorities out in the middle of nowhere. And that is what roadblocks are; places in which citizens are required to prove their innocence of crimes for which there is no reasonable expectation that they are guilty.
If such things do not scare you, you will do well in the People's Republic of Compliant Idiots.
And the bit about, "If you ain't doin' nothin' wrong, then ya got nuthin to worry 'bout", is absolutely mindless BS. I worry about anyone or any institution that stops me, essentially at gunpoint, hoping to discover I've broken some law, of which there are so many that no one person knows them all.
I'm usually polite at such encounters. This one, right in my backyard, flipped the switch. I was not happy. Had I been in a muscle car I would have laid rubber for half a mile on my way out.
Things are as they are because, throughout humanity's history, people will believe anything, and they don't mind forcing others to comply to their wishes whether or not the others' normal actions would interfere with their right to seek happiness. They are more inclined to go along with things if little crumbs like obamaphones are tossed their way.
Part of the Big Pretense is that any of it makes sense. I live just outside a Sanctuary City--meaning illegals needn't worry about have their feelings hurt-- yet I am required to prove my legitimacy within sight of my own driveway.
Want to fix immigration worries? Use some logic, fix the underlying system which both rewards moochers and encourages thugs. That goes to the tax system, the way that criminals are actually compensated should some aberrant institution like Mexico's government whine that some sheriff defended himself when the thugs tried to run him over, etc.
And the drug thing.
That is money and power which includes the governments who declare war on drugs. Another bit of pretense; wars on inanimate objects and vague nouns are truly meaningless. But they are good excuses to use the people's money to enrich some slimy power brokers and their pals.
Needless to say, this particular development which has placed Big Brother in my back yard, sent me over the edge. If I had a big old truck, really big, I think I'd just go crashing through and destroy their vehicles in the process. Good thing I don't have a bazooka, big truck or anything else more forceful than a Subaru and a machete.
You can believe that one or the other of these disgusting political parties has validity and makes sense, but the truth is they have given us tyranny in little bitty doses, adding another and another, so that we could swallow each increment without much trouble until we ate the whole thing. This is not right, not respectful of the rights of individuals and not necessary.
Speaking of useful idiots. Here's one that is on a roll. Give him the Sean Penn righteous fool award for Dec. 2012.
I've had time to cool off, but I'm doing a slow burn, with pent up rage aimed at every idiot teacher, cop, and adult in America who is too damned bull-headed to comprehend how irritating tyranny can be. And how their compliance will come back on all of us, and already has.
Only a mile or so down the road from my house, on the way to Descanso, the Border Patrol decided to set up a make shift road block. Not just for an hour or so. They may be there for days for all I know.
Hardly anyone ever takes that road. Most people get groceries and such in Alpine. The road loops between the two towns. It is 2 lane. You see more animals than people. I live in the sticks, partly because I am sick of officialdom.
Today, as I was headed to Descanso post office, I encountered the orange cones and 5 mph signs. I noticed the trailer on the side of the road which contained elevated big lights. I slowed and went through, no stop.
A few hours later, I came home that way, which I often do because the road is usually empty enough that I can put the car in neutral and glide the last 3 miles. I like that road. The bright lights were blazing, the border patrol cars had their cop lights flashing and they forced anyone coming through to stop.
"What country are you a citizen of?", I was asked. "U S A", I replied, although inwardly I was thinking "The Independent Republic of F$%^ YOU! and the bastards who hired you!"
I know Mexico is maybe 10 miles further south, but that does not constitute probable cause for stopping me, shining a flashlight at me, and through the back windows of my car to see what I have in there. By rights I could have refused to answer, demanding to know why I was being asked and if there was any reason to suspect me for doing something illegal.
If I were here illegally, and got stopped by a local cop, the cop is not supposed to ask me anything. You give up that privacy if you are a citizen, I think.
It is a problem created by government. Insane drug laws, and insane tax methods. Go to the Fair Tax, just can the drug laws and forget it.
The thinking is the same that grade school teachers used when they would hold the entire class hostage until someone either fessed up to some indiscretion, or someone else told on the perp. Half the time, most of us had no idea what was the crime that set the "educator" on the warpath.
This has gone on so long that most people have no idea what freedom, even a little of it, is supposed to be. You are not supposed to have to prove your innocence at the whim of authorities out in the middle of nowhere. And that is what roadblocks are; places in which citizens are required to prove their innocence of crimes for which there is no reasonable expectation that they are guilty.
If such things do not scare you, you will do well in the People's Republic of Compliant Idiots.
And the bit about, "If you ain't doin' nothin' wrong, then ya got nuthin to worry 'bout", is absolutely mindless BS. I worry about anyone or any institution that stops me, essentially at gunpoint, hoping to discover I've broken some law, of which there are so many that no one person knows them all.
I'm usually polite at such encounters. This one, right in my backyard, flipped the switch. I was not happy. Had I been in a muscle car I would have laid rubber for half a mile on my way out.
Things are as they are because, throughout humanity's history, people will believe anything, and they don't mind forcing others to comply to their wishes whether or not the others' normal actions would interfere with their right to seek happiness. They are more inclined to go along with things if little crumbs like obamaphones are tossed their way.
Part of the Big Pretense is that any of it makes sense. I live just outside a Sanctuary City--meaning illegals needn't worry about have their feelings hurt-- yet I am required to prove my legitimacy within sight of my own driveway.
Want to fix immigration worries? Use some logic, fix the underlying system which both rewards moochers and encourages thugs. That goes to the tax system, the way that criminals are actually compensated should some aberrant institution like Mexico's government whine that some sheriff defended himself when the thugs tried to run him over, etc.
And the drug thing.
That is money and power which includes the governments who declare war on drugs. Another bit of pretense; wars on inanimate objects and vague nouns are truly meaningless. But they are good excuses to use the people's money to enrich some slimy power brokers and their pals.
Needless to say, this particular development which has placed Big Brother in my back yard, sent me over the edge. If I had a big old truck, really big, I think I'd just go crashing through and destroy their vehicles in the process. Good thing I don't have a bazooka, big truck or anything else more forceful than a Subaru and a machete.
You can believe that one or the other of these disgusting political parties has validity and makes sense, but the truth is they have given us tyranny in little bitty doses, adding another and another, so that we could swallow each increment without much trouble until we ate the whole thing. This is not right, not respectful of the rights of individuals and not necessary.
Speaking of useful idiots. Here's one that is on a roll. Give him the Sean Penn righteous fool award for Dec. 2012.
Hoho and Spice
So, by some quirk of fate I've become the Christmas carol player. I don't know, just happened. I go to these music things to force myself to be around people. And it is a nice bunch. It challenges my playing sometimes but is not really the stuff that allows me to spontaneously combust. But it makes me a lot better for when I do. The main thing is that it keeps me off the streets.
I had a word with Richard, of seasoning fame, and am now set to replenish the supply of those who liked the stuff last year. I may only give it to those who've mentioned their affection for it, plus a few newbies.
I've run out of Howling Wolf, but still have that pimenton, La Chinata. I think that is the name. I've used it sparingly because I like to make it last. That is great stuff. Try it on home made quesadillas, and more.
Before I lived here, I never paid much attention. Now I get a little antsy when I don't have two or three cool seasonings that you generally don't find at the grocery store. I'm addicted to them. And they all tie in with Christmas. It just worked out that way for some reason.
Wish I had something worth writing. I wrote this to force myself to stay in the game, and to avoid discussing Boner or Obama or any of the many disillusionments I may have with The Big Pretense.
Still thinking of heading off at the end of the month to some bizarre locale. Maybe I'll go camping at ... never mind.
I had a word with Richard, of seasoning fame, and am now set to replenish the supply of those who liked the stuff last year. I may only give it to those who've mentioned their affection for it, plus a few newbies.
I've run out of Howling Wolf, but still have that pimenton, La Chinata. I think that is the name. I've used it sparingly because I like to make it last. That is great stuff. Try it on home made quesadillas, and more.
Before I lived here, I never paid much attention. Now I get a little antsy when I don't have two or three cool seasonings that you generally don't find at the grocery store. I'm addicted to them. And they all tie in with Christmas. It just worked out that way for some reason.
Wish I had something worth writing. I wrote this to force myself to stay in the game, and to avoid discussing Boner or Obama or any of the many disillusionments I may have with The Big Pretense.
Still thinking of heading off at the end of the month to some bizarre locale. Maybe I'll go camping at ... never mind.
Friday, December 7, 2012
If Memory Would Sustainably Serve
I know buzz words and chic code phrases when I hear them, but I tend to forget, so I think the ticket is to make a list which is constantly updated.
One common thread on trendy words and phrases is that they often lack much meaning if harsh analysis is applied. Lots of what I think and say has that same vague foundation. It's a curse.
These words are used quite often to imply that an argument is settled, and debate unthinkable.
Off the top of my head I can list several PC and oddly chic terms which are used to influence people and promote whoknowswhat:
sustainable
green
empower
diversity
multi-cultural
give back (actually phrase, often in front of 'to the community')
advantaged
disadvantaged
The Rich
99%
earth-friendly
The longest lasting, and one of the least well defined words is "fair". When kids use it, it means "reality is not how I wish it to be". Unions use it to mean any number of things, usually with the bottom line being we, the management of the union, demand power. It rarely means equitable, or anything to do with quid pro quo, value for value, etc.
Fair is a good one.
I'm sure I'm missing the best ones. Just can't remember. Perhaps "braindead" is one of them.
This did not work out; can't remember what I was thinking, and don't like how it worked out. This idea seems unsustainable, and it is not fair. I know there are many diverse, green, eco-friendly terms and ideas I could have considered which would have made me feel more empowered.
For the longest time "empowered" meant "As a female, I am now more powerful than males". I know, that sounds so bad, but it is the truth. Empower was constantly used in a sense of political sex war. Now metrosexual males in places like California tend to use it more. It is great when tied in with "giving back" in diverse, and earth-friendly, green initiatives.
So, what am I saying? I don't know for sure. I think I am saying that our culture has been so bombarded with mind conditioning nonsense for so long that a huge portion of what we think, and how we direct those with guns and badges to control us is total and utter non sense.
It could just be me that finds his mind is nothing but a clutter of nonsense.
edit: How could I forget FISCAL CLIFF? Or, in some circles, physical cliff. Because everyone from repubs to dems to news mannequins use the phrase, it must have real meaning. What it means I'm not sure, but unless the cliff is only four feet high, it is probably painful to go over it.
I'll bet the Bridge to the 21st century was put there so we wouldn't go off a millennial cliff. It must have spanned between two cliffs.
.
.
One common thread on trendy words and phrases is that they often lack much meaning if harsh analysis is applied. Lots of what I think and say has that same vague foundation. It's a curse.
These words are used quite often to imply that an argument is settled, and debate unthinkable.
Off the top of my head I can list several PC and oddly chic terms which are used to influence people and promote whoknowswhat:
sustainable
green
empower
diversity
multi-cultural
give back (actually phrase, often in front of 'to the community')
advantaged
disadvantaged
The Rich
99%
earth-friendly
The longest lasting, and one of the least well defined words is "fair". When kids use it, it means "reality is not how I wish it to be". Unions use it to mean any number of things, usually with the bottom line being we, the management of the union, demand power. It rarely means equitable, or anything to do with quid pro quo, value for value, etc.
Fair is a good one.
I'm sure I'm missing the best ones. Just can't remember. Perhaps "braindead" is one of them.
This did not work out; can't remember what I was thinking, and don't like how it worked out. This idea seems unsustainable, and it is not fair. I know there are many diverse, green, eco-friendly terms and ideas I could have considered which would have made me feel more empowered.
For the longest time "empowered" meant "As a female, I am now more powerful than males". I know, that sounds so bad, but it is the truth. Empower was constantly used in a sense of political sex war. Now metrosexual males in places like California tend to use it more. It is great when tied in with "giving back" in diverse, and earth-friendly, green initiatives.
So, what am I saying? I don't know for sure. I think I am saying that our culture has been so bombarded with mind conditioning nonsense for so long that a huge portion of what we think, and how we direct those with guns and badges to control us is total and utter non sense.
It could just be me that finds his mind is nothing but a clutter of nonsense.
edit: How could I forget FISCAL CLIFF? Or, in some circles, physical cliff. Because everyone from repubs to dems to news mannequins use the phrase, it must have real meaning. What it means I'm not sure, but unless the cliff is only four feet high, it is probably painful to go over it.
I'll bet the Bridge to the 21st century was put there so we wouldn't go off a millennial cliff. It must have spanned between two cliffs.
.
.
Congratulations and A Little Rain on the Parade
Good for Washington state. Drug laws, especially ones involving hemp and cannabis are a sap on the treasury, and an affront to free people. Just because one agrees with that statement does not mean one is using drugs or suggesting it.
I don't use cosmetics or get tattoos, either. Doesn't mean I wouldn't be alarmed of such things were illegal. Your choice.
So, good for you. Aside from the fact it ought not be an issue, it is kind of like throwing up the middle finger to the Feds for regulating what they have no real, legitimate right to regulate.
Oh, Obamaites, your golden boy has not called off the dogs in this area. They still raid California dispensaries of medical marijuana on an irregular and inconsistent basis. BO ain't as cool as you think. Whether he cares what's being controlled or not, he is not going to stand up for what's right and let go of any power. Power and glory. Very much the nature of that game.
Anyway, to rain just a little on the parade, expect WA to issue the permits and such for sales and production according to the forces of cronyism, and hence corruption.
Still, it beats wasting another dime on worrying what someone might be smoking.
I don't use cosmetics or get tattoos, either. Doesn't mean I wouldn't be alarmed of such things were illegal. Your choice.
So, good for you. Aside from the fact it ought not be an issue, it is kind of like throwing up the middle finger to the Feds for regulating what they have no real, legitimate right to regulate.
Oh, Obamaites, your golden boy has not called off the dogs in this area. They still raid California dispensaries of medical marijuana on an irregular and inconsistent basis. BO ain't as cool as you think. Whether he cares what's being controlled or not, he is not going to stand up for what's right and let go of any power. Power and glory. Very much the nature of that game.
Anyway, to rain just a little on the parade, expect WA to issue the permits and such for sales and production according to the forces of cronyism, and hence corruption.
Still, it beats wasting another dime on worrying what someone might be smoking.
Little Thought on Cost to Society/National Interest
The doctrine of 'compelling state interest' has an evil origin. The Supreme Court created this so-called 'balancing test' in 1944 to justify the criminal arrest and imprisonment of thousands of innocent Japanese-Americans.
Those aren't my words. I pulled them from an article somewhere, and since I am not a news source, or expecting to receive a grade or a promotion, I'm not bothering to further vet this.
The article goes on to say, blalblablablabla, etc.
And:
The 1944 Court dared to assert that it could balance the 'interests' of The State against the rights of individuals."
The matter of the interests of the state trumping the rights of individuals has been one of greater and greater concern since that time.
I find it odd that those most likely to separate us into ethnic groups, and then decide who needs what based upon such foolishness, are the same people who think rights of the individual are expendable and really just permissions granted by the state. The same people who, over 60 years later make a big deal of apologizing to the mostly dead Japanese who were locked up.
Hypocrites. We'll know mankind has truly evolved when we find ourselves governed so sparingly that it will be like gossamer compared to the thick wet heavy wool under which we function today. But people can't be so small as to relish the thought of controlling the resources and personal choices of others. Presently, most people cannot resist that cheap bit of power and revenge.
Hence this ridiculous generalization and demonization of The Rich. A campaign largely conducted by those who are far richer and more powerful than most. You'd think those on the bandwagon would ask themselves why those who fund and instigate such tangents do so.
Those aren't my words. I pulled them from an article somewhere, and since I am not a news source, or expecting to receive a grade or a promotion, I'm not bothering to further vet this.
The article goes on to say, blalblablablabla, etc.
And:
The 1944 Court dared to assert that it could balance the 'interests' of The State against the rights of individuals."
The matter of the interests of the state trumping the rights of individuals has been one of greater and greater concern since that time.
I find it odd that those most likely to separate us into ethnic groups, and then decide who needs what based upon such foolishness, are the same people who think rights of the individual are expendable and really just permissions granted by the state. The same people who, over 60 years later make a big deal of apologizing to the mostly dead Japanese who were locked up.
Hypocrites. We'll know mankind has truly evolved when we find ourselves governed so sparingly that it will be like gossamer compared to the thick wet heavy wool under which we function today. But people can't be so small as to relish the thought of controlling the resources and personal choices of others. Presently, most people cannot resist that cheap bit of power and revenge.
Hence this ridiculous generalization and demonization of The Rich. A campaign largely conducted by those who are far richer and more powerful than most. You'd think those on the bandwagon would ask themselves why those who fund and instigate such tangents do so.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
They May Not All Be Crazy
But you sure see a lot of pictures from certain parts of the world in which people take to the streets, giving up all personal space, to form such a tight mob that if you died on the spot you could not fall down.
If these people are not nuts, they do marvelous impersonations of lunatics, and so do their official, and unofficial leaders.
Here we see a man putting on his best lunatic impression while his armpit valet carries on with his duties.
If these people are not nuts, they do marvelous impersonations of lunatics, and so do their official, and unofficial leaders.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
You Can't Handle The Truth!
The old line from a Nicholson movie. Actually, I can't handle the truth. My truth scares me, when I let it.
So, I rarely write about real life in my fog filled bubble. It all seems so simple on paper---do this, do that, fix this fix that, get rid of all that clutter, this clutter, and clean up after it. Find woman, drag to cave, make happy.
Every once in awhile, maybe three times per day, I see something or think of something and say, "Oh man, you really blew it. You squandered one perfectly good life."
My goal is to change that before I die. I think I want to fix it before it is all gone.
I think people are crazy in groups, and fear freedom and all that, but then I wonder if I am wrong, considering how difficult I find the simplest of normal life tasks. Is it possible that I am crazy and they are right? Or maybe I am right, and crazy. I believe the latter to be the most accurate assessment.
It is the holiday season, and I guess this time of year brings out the remembered pain of numerous heartbreaks, the horror of bad judgement and irresponsible actions of the past, and fear when I realize how empty a certain part of me is.
Where to go from that is not actually a mystery, but doing it appears to involve taking down a 4 foot thick concrete wall with a ball peen hammer.
In the mean time, I have to go by the house of some friends on Christmas. Then I think I'll disappear for a few days to a campsite on the edge of the earth.
None of this should be a surprise. I knew I had serious disconnect and lack of cultural understanding way back when people first started playing air guitar. When they actually began staging public contests for this bizarre sport, I realized I may forever be lost in this world. Then came disco, karoke on Beale St in Memphis (dubious blues capital of the Delta), and reality TV. Clearly my best path is not one which involves understanding, promoting or keeping abreast of pop culture and its many mysterious twists and turns.
If I can't figure that stuff out, how can I be surprised at all the other crazy stuff? Let's all hope to win powerball so we can be filthy rich, but let's carry on a cultural campaign so that the words "rich" and "evil" become synonymous in the minds of the people. I want to win lotto and be rich, but for now I hate THE RICH because they are all meanies.
First we had that Bridge to the New Millennium to cross, now we are all going to be cast over THE FISCAL CLIFF. I've yet to even see the bridge, which means I may not have made it across into the glorious 21st century. Perhaps being tossed over The Cliff would be the kindest thing.
.
So, I rarely write about real life in my fog filled bubble. It all seems so simple on paper---do this, do that, fix this fix that, get rid of all that clutter, this clutter, and clean up after it. Find woman, drag to cave, make happy.
Every once in awhile, maybe three times per day, I see something or think of something and say, "Oh man, you really blew it. You squandered one perfectly good life."
My goal is to change that before I die. I think I want to fix it before it is all gone.
I think people are crazy in groups, and fear freedom and all that, but then I wonder if I am wrong, considering how difficult I find the simplest of normal life tasks. Is it possible that I am crazy and they are right? Or maybe I am right, and crazy. I believe the latter to be the most accurate assessment.
It is the holiday season, and I guess this time of year brings out the remembered pain of numerous heartbreaks, the horror of bad judgement and irresponsible actions of the past, and fear when I realize how empty a certain part of me is.
Where to go from that is not actually a mystery, but doing it appears to involve taking down a 4 foot thick concrete wall with a ball peen hammer.
In the mean time, I have to go by the house of some friends on Christmas. Then I think I'll disappear for a few days to a campsite on the edge of the earth.
None of this should be a surprise. I knew I had serious disconnect and lack of cultural understanding way back when people first started playing air guitar. When they actually began staging public contests for this bizarre sport, I realized I may forever be lost in this world. Then came disco, karoke on Beale St in Memphis (dubious blues capital of the Delta), and reality TV. Clearly my best path is not one which involves understanding, promoting or keeping abreast of pop culture and its many mysterious twists and turns.
If I can't figure that stuff out, how can I be surprised at all the other crazy stuff? Let's all hope to win powerball so we can be filthy rich, but let's carry on a cultural campaign so that the words "rich" and "evil" become synonymous in the minds of the people. I want to win lotto and be rich, but for now I hate THE RICH because they are all meanies.
First we had that Bridge to the New Millennium to cross, now we are all going to be cast over THE FISCAL CLIFF. I've yet to even see the bridge, which means I may not have made it across into the glorious 21st century. Perhaps being tossed over The Cliff would be the kindest thing.
.
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About Me
- John0 Juanderlust
- Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
- Like spring on a summer's day
