Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Ever Think They May Be Right?

Once in awhile, when I know someone misses my point, or misreads my intent, I get a little angry and confused.

First I think, "Hey you don't get it at all", and if it has to do with something like cops or professors whining about pay while playing that selfless public servant card, I add name calling--in my mind--like perverted bully moron liar.  My experience with police and teachers, other than a few stellar standouts has not been good.  The public school teachers and administrators in many places should be thrilled that they haven't been subjected to the scrutiny priests and some others have enjoyed.

South Miami schools, especially the junior high, would have lost all the phys ed coaches, most of the faculty, and most of the administration, had justice been in the neighborhood.  Other schools would have probably fared somewhat better, but still taken a good hit.  The Big Pretense in matters of public "service" and male-female relationships has been around a long long time.

Certain rules of the pretense code are simply not to be violated.  It is a secret, tacit ritual.  We pretend.  And some of us rebel, and rebel, and wonder what to do, and this group tends to angrily do themselves no big favors in the scheme of things.  Eventually it can tire one out to the point where he stops and thinks, "Maybe I am wrong and They are right".

So, that person, someone like me, tries to put away that emotional feeling that makes him want to single handedly run a Cuban blockade in a speedboat or crash the California roadblocks at 80 MPH.

He settles down.  "Why am I so enraged?"  Oh, it must be that he's misunderstood.  I don't know if he's like me or not at this point, but I stop and say, "You nearsighted nincompoop!!  Of course you are misunderstood!".  That's why the holy man said it is better to seek to understand than to be understood.  He knew I don't even understand myself, and people rarely get anything straight.

If you've ever been close to a news story and read or watched the official report you know the truth is rarely put out without some falsehood to accompany it.

They are probably part right.  People will miss the mark.  You'll feel like you have been somehow stamped with a false label.  Best to leave it.  Efforts to correct the record tend to further confuse it.  And there may be something worthwhile in the half truths laid before you.

Hell with it.  If those you think are impostors and charlatans really are, time and circumstance will tell.

This sort of abstract nonsense is the kind of thing that covers one's own reality, and probably one's own illness.  Better to ignore some things.

Famous people and friends can wake up dead with a needle in their arm or pills and bottles scattered about.  It gets tiring and old.  The wise thing is to know just how close to this circumstance indulging frustration can take a guy.  So it is best not to indulge frustration to that extent.  Better to gain a little understanding rather than to expect or crave to be understood.  Worry over being misunderstood has put many in the grave, and under the dumpster.

Happy f'ing bithday, misfit

Monday, February 3, 2014

Look! A Gringo at the DMV (try not to stare, niƱos)

From joeh comment on last post, it sounds like NJ has much saner DMV than CA
The light made the screen on phone unreadable, so I kept pushing the virtual imaginary button which has doubts concerning the humanity of my finger, therefore it only reacts in moments of weakness, like when the phone is pointed somewhere other than the place I want to photograph.  This is outside DMV in El Centro--just a stones throw, or a burro's trot, from Mejico.  

When I first went through the process to get  California driver's license, someone typed in the wrong month of birth.  They make you wait for the license.  It is mailed to you at their leisure.  I don't recall that being the case in any of the other states where I have had a driver's license.  
So, when I finally got my certificate of Privilege to drive, the birthdate listed made me almost a half year younger.  I left it that way. 
It wasn't my mistake, besides what real business is it of this state when I was born?  And in the words of the supposed president-elect, "At this point, what difference does it make?" (screech, grimace, pound table)
The best picture was the last one in NC in the mid '90s.  But that was long ago.  
We were all beautiful back then, but didn't know it.  Maybe we are beautiful now, too, and are still too dense to know it.

Not relevant to story but a nice picture with significance if you were there, or if you are me.  If not, ignore or create your own version of the meaning of life
Speaking of beautiful, this is a holy spot, hallowed ground near the home of my youth.  At least to me, and maybe to that little tiny pup.  That tree knows that there was a time when I was considered OK, and not to be reviled.  Good to know.  If I knew then what I know now...I'm drawing a blank.  I keep wondering what I'd do now if I knew now what I am supposed to know.  I don't want to look back to now thinking, "if only I'd known then...".  Screw that.

So, I already knew that California DMV is notoriously crowded, slow, tedious, and incompetent.  That, and the alleged real time, wait-time info online prompted me to drive 70 miles to El Centro, rather than 25 miles to El Cajon---right there close to the vile El Cajon headquarters of the Highway Patrol.  

I'll take my chances with Mexican drug lords in El Centro rather than deal with El Cajon Highway Patrol--at least I know I'll be dealing with a more decent class of person. 
I'd heard it is quicker in El Centro.  That is way out east, middle of nowhere, kind of in the desert.  The place was packed.  It was exactly like places I remember seeing as a kid in Guatemala City, and other 3rd world Latin American places.  It was one of the stark differences back then; people in the 3rd world had to sit around, wait hours in line for bureaucratic nonsense.  For everything really.  

Americans thought they were lucky because it was not like that here.  "Oh, it'll never be like that in the States!!  all that waiting in line, subject to the whims of government bureaucrats...not in America, by Godtt!!"  Oh yea?

Yippee.  We have become so happily multi-cultural that we now do our DMV just like they used to do everything in those countries.  We even brought them over here so it would look the same.  I always liked the people, but they smiled at me more when I was 7 years old than they do now.

I was the only gringo in the place.  Must have been a hundred people.
I'm thinking the pretty lady treated me special so no one could accuse her of racism or profiling.  Plus I had my ducks in a row, and did my best to appear pleasant and nice.  She did not abuse the obvious minority guy.
There was a glitch in the mysterious computer file on me which made it appear that I'd have to take a test.  That probably wouldn't be too big a problem except it would mean going to the back of another line, filling out more forms and maybe not getting done within the two hours before the place closed.  

Plus, if the test involved road things I'd be OK, but I remember on some driving tests it was all about various penalties for various alcohol related infractions.  I don't know specific penalties.  I don't do things of that nature.  They fry you if you drink and drive, and if you text and drive.  Not smart to do either one anyway.  Oh well.
I don't know how I got through so quick, as it was.  I think the first lady expedited things and gave me a quicker number--F-033.  And then the other one, the pretty one I just mentioned, looked at this and that, took in my lost puppy look when the test was mentioned, scribbled a bunch of stuff on what must have been my Permanent Record, and said forget the test.

So now I have a piece of paper for a license and hope the real deal shows in the mail.  Except I still have the old one with the bogus birthday which, on its face, is good until May.  It is so rare that I have ever lived in one place long enough for license renewal, I can't recall the last time.  
All I recall is getting a new license in a new state.  I would have kept car and license registered Tennessee had not the car got totaled.  It seemed the thing to be CA officially in the aftermath and during the insurance battles.  
Maybe I was wrong about that.

If you have credentials from a freer state, it pays to keep them if you can swing it.  

Thirty three dollars to renew a driver's license?  We aren't talking commercial or any of that.  Luckily I had more cash on me than I usually carry.  I thought maybe twelve or fifteen.  
And the picture is going to be really odd this time.  I think I had an expression which looked a lot like a Rodney Dangerfield impersonation.  His surprised victim expression.

Looking around the place, it did spook me.  All these people, many with little children, forced to sit in a hot crowded room in order to satisfy the state's need to control.  
I honestly do not care if they have licenses.  They probably can't drive worth a damn anyway.  So what.  Just like now, if you can't cover financially, and do not have insurance, then they ought to deport you or throw you out of the mainstream of people.  
In CA the DMV does nothing to improve the odds of responsible people behind the wheel.  So why bother?
Oh yea.  "Driving is a privilege"... said in my most serious authoritarian Dad voice. 
(a privilege granted whether or not you will do harm or be safe.  Unsafe people think it is ok if they drive as long as the state says it is OK.  Another case where the State substitutes for God and conscience.)

They told me I'd outgrow my semi-anarchist leanings.  Once again, They were wrong.  I'd be OK with dropping the requirement for driver's licenses.  But I'd also be OK with shooting up the cars of little punks who hop in cars and make trouble for others.  

I drove around South Miami at night when I was 12, in an MGA hardtop, sitting on 2 Miami phone books, with lots of friends packed in there.  You can fit a lot of little kids into a car.  We were polite and safe.  Of course we thought we were being anonymous and no one would know.  They never did, either.  So age is not a problem.  Behavior and competence.

Anyway, it worked out, but the scene, which I should have photographed, looked exactly like the scenes from poor countries with authoritarian inefficient, maddening dogmatic bureaucracies.   I did not take a photo because I already stood out like a priest in a whorehouse, and I did not want to disturb the peace.  
But if I had taken a photo and told you it was the holding tank for people awaiting their fate in a Cuban court for being critics of the Revolution or dissidents, no one would doubt it.  
The setup makes everyone look like a convict begging for a reprieve. 

Then I went here to contemplate my future, and songs of the heart.
.So cool.  We got a little rain!!!  That is a big deal in this part of the world.  Crazy.
That's because they are constantly worrying about fire, and low water supply, and doing very little that makes sense to mitigate either problem.  Most anything that could or would be done is illegal or meets with unreasonable and unsound activism of one sort or other.  When statists, collectivists and Luddites join forces, nothing is possible except the painfully bizarre.

./




DMV

What a weird thing is the California motor vehicle place.  You can make a convenient appointment, but the first available time will be in three weeks, and don't plan to have choice of day or time.

Best bet is to drive 70 miles east, out to El Centro, and just forget the appointment routine.  The probably won't be able to speak English.  That's OK.  I don't speak government, so that puts us on equal footing.  We won't understand one another, and neither of us will really care.

These agencies are more foreign to me than to most people, as near as I can tell.  They are as unpleasant too me as an occupying army or local gang might be to the average person.  I do my best to suck it up.  Many people don't find the bullying of authority to be anything peculiar or wrong.

Those are the same people who would have found slavery the way of society, no matter if they were slave or master, which is pretty much the majority, considering it was the norm for thousands of years in every part of the world until europeans decided it was no good.  Now most people act like they would never go along with such heavy handed business.  But that is only because that is what everyone else seems to think.

They go along with the whole DMV "Driving is a privilege not a right" routine.  Who is granting this privilege?  The same people who have made jumping through the hoops to get the privilege renewed a privilege.  If you are lucky, you can get an appointment to get your privilege.  It is a privilege to get the red tape handled, not a right.

Driving is a privilege.  Driving sanely and safely is obviously and option; like turn signals on BMWs.

I'm going to drive almost to Yuma because it will end up taking less time than waiting around in El Cajon or San Diego.  Out there, most people are illegal anyway and don't need no stinking driver's license.  Sanctuary cities and all that.  I don't know how the get it ll worked out, but it seems they can do OK.  Cops only beat on them if they think no legal services will be brought to bear.

That is the big myth in the US.  People think police are out to nail citizens based on race or ethnicity.  They do like all bullies and target those who are least threatening to them.  If they think you can bring nasty lawyers down on them then they lay off.  It is about power, and that sometimes coincides with race.

I'm always polite at the DMV, and pretend that I respect the people there and what they represent.   The truth is that I do not respect "the badge", the agency, the state or the way the state is set up.  That makes me a liar.  I do respect the workers there, to a small degree.  They do not see themselves as part of anything bad.  Such workers rarely do.   And the public largely plays its role too.  People herd in there and indicate a need to be guided and prodded to behave halfway civilly.  They like the firm control of the surrogate parent the state has become.

I can't change it, but I don't think it is good to pretend it is OK and wonderful, either.  I've never liked bullies of any kind.  But even in childhood I noticed that if a kid gained acceptance by his bullies, he'd immediately conform to their mode of behavior and bully someone else as soon as he got the chance.  So, by conforming properly so that the state doesn't torture people they feel all responsible and support measures taken against those who don't readily conform.  It is the old weak willed, no principles game in action all over again.

The trick is to maintain one's integrity while not falling into the trap of fighting everyone and everything in a fruitless quest of some kind.  Don't tilt at windmills like Don Quixote.

I think the set up is wrong and unholy.  Many others have no issue with it, as long as they think the force of the state and the whims and prejudices and perversions of those with badges won't be brought down to harm them.  It doesn't occur to them that this is not the way people should be treated and peace maintained.  Driving is a privilege, as is living, sleeping, walking around taking in the sights, fishing, and washing windows.  It's all a privilege, granted grudgingly by the state, overseen by armed an deadly agents.

I find all that quite bizarre.  That most normal, and otherwise decent, people do not find it so puzzles me greatly.  It makes me wonder if I am simply not seeing what I think I see.  Is the sky not really blue on a cloudless day?  Is water not really wet?  My perception of reality must be distorted, or else most people have been duped.  Or maybe just bullied to the point of compliance a pretense.  And pretense has become such a habit that they don't dare stop.  And maybe people don't even know how to stop.

Most find every reason to convince themselves that they aren't pretending.   No doubt there are studies to back them up, depending up the issue and needs of the day.  Sometimes new studies trash old ones, and then newer ones reaffirm the ones that got trashed.

It may well be the the evolution of the species requires a collectivist majority of the easily led who fear being weird or different, all enjoying the herd mentality and whatever privileges they are granted.  They get to choose teams with which to identify, and so they can have internal enemies.  They can bicker over the best ways to combat common enemies like poverty, terrorism, drugs, inequality, and even privilege itself.  The important thing is to confine their thinking within that framework.

Over time the people who don't or won't fit will get weeded out.    Force is an effective tool, and the state claims a monopoly on the right to use force as it sees fit.   It will grudgingly cede the privilege of self defense to an individual,  but it is a risky privilege to exercise.  It may or may not land one in as much difficulty as the assault from which he was defending himself.   It is a roll of the dice.

El Centro, here we come, with a battery of documentation in hand, hoping to prove our existence to the satisfaction of a state whose mistyped numbers place my entrance into this life at a time a couple of hundred days different than other agencies and states have claimed for many many years.  Should be fun.

.

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Pirate Poet Pauper or King

Of those choices I think pirate or king are most likely the ones which provide the most satisfaction.  I think I know first hand what the other two have to offer.

Most overly sentimental or passionate souls who find no avenue of understanding or sensible means of expression are probably poets.  Just another word for nutcase.  Kings are annoying, in concept, but tend to live well and get all the women they want.  Women like power and wealth, regardless what you may have heard, and kings have both.  Ergo, kings attract mucho wimmins.

No such thing as altruistic love, soulmate, etc.  Mercenary females, idealistic males.  The former do not settle for the latter, and the latter do not land the most desirable of women unless they parlay their idealism into power, fame, and/or wealth.

Even so, I still believe.  I'm an idealist.  Strange thing to be, considering I just spelled out the case against the poet's soul, against soul mates, meant to be, and all that.  Maybe it is a manifestation of my compulsion to lose, to self destruct.

Or maybe it is a result of the sort of knowledge one can't prove, but knows if he's ever glimpsed the face of God.  I guess you'll never know, unless you've been where I've been.  But how would you, or I, know if you have or not?

I guess if we meet in a dream, or our spirits cross paths floating, flying out in a dimension which accommodates such activities, then we'll know what we know, and the question will be put to rest.  If we were to do that, we'd be on to something, and I bet it would be bliss.

But what are the chances of that?  Let's say I find that magic vibration that launches me off into that dimension of dream-like travel beyond time and limit.  Odds seem slim that anything special is going to be there on the same wavelength, ready to find me.  

But out there, or in there--as the case may be, things aren't bound by the same rules, and what seems likely or unlikely here and now, can be different. So we go full circle.

It is good to be how I am, or it is hopeless, but maybe it is good, etc.  The world within or without the world that gets all the press may be the better deal, the bigger deal, and a welcome relief.

If you can unravel this one, kudos to you.  Sometimes you do best when you accept what you can't completely control, and enjoy the seat of your pants flying that is the only option that remains for some of us.   Nothing else ever worked anyway, even back when normal seemed a reasonable possibility.

I will find out, and maybe you will be there, or here, with me.

.

Saturday, February 1, 2014

What's a Guy to Do?



It makes no sense, but I am determined to figure this out.   But if I look at my history, I never settle down confidently with the nice person, or else I gamble it all on the deceptive ingrate.  In fairness, most experiences were with the nice people, and I just resisted going all in, or else I didn't feel  I could be accepted for the reality of who I am.  

Bla bla bla.  I look back and think, "Who cares?  Take control, whiner."  One thing for sure, advice from others in matters of the heart is total garbage.

They do not know, and always tend to push me to be who I am not, and really do not want to be.  I have defects, glitches, and occasional flashes of brilliance, and if there is the right kind of respect and affection, I am loyal and a servant to the death, if need be.  At least I think so.

Some people can't get past the glitchy, whatever it is.  But others actually like that aspect.  My compulsion to try for a normalcy I'll never achieve often led me to seek approval where it would never be.  Dumb.  No good or bad in that.  All about inner conflict, trusting true essence and all that. 

Whatever I am, it is almost a universal truth that the opinions of others about what to do with my heart, and how, ought to be ignored, and, unless it involves a heads up regarding dishonesty or psycho antics, such opinions ought not be offered.  Mildly positive things are OK, like, "Oh she's a spiffy looking chick" or "Wow she can jump high and kick a ball far!!".  You know, the usual comments which don't delve into too much depth.

It looks to me like I need to make some money.  Maybe figure out how to put what I have left to work. It is scary, but I will just see and hope to do the right thing.  It is nice to know what I do want, for a change, but I will follow whatever proves to be the ultimate best path.  It almost makes me cry, though, because I do know something or someone has really got a hold o me.

Just the way it is.  If you don't like it,  you are probably wrong, but that's OK.  Life works out alright if you let it.





love this song.  I'm simple and unsophisticated I guess.  I like what I like and that's that

Amazing Grace

This has been a good thirty days or so.   Much of it defies any explanation I'd attempt here, but then some things go beyond words anyway.

I often find myself doing things I would not have predicted.  Like the time I played for that Easter service for the Lutherans; the one where they cut the lights and slam the book so hard it made me jump.

Then today, at the request of K and L I played a memorial service for an allegedly dead person I never met.  I say "allegedly" because I never saw her, dead or alive.  All they had were ashes in a box.  Not to make light of the situation.  But for all I know the whole thing could have been staged, and all but a few of the people could have been actors.  I'd met maybe two or three of the attendees, besides K and L.

Different people spoke about the deceased.  She was a couple of years younger than I am.  Liver or kidney issue did her in.  After hearing the people tell their stories, I felt like I knew her, or had a sense of her.

I felt sad and happy, at the same time, for her husband.  She was clearly the love of his life; his second wife, I believe.  Sad for his loss, but a little envious that he had 25 years with someone he was crazy about.  It seems he has enough friends and family to carry him through right now.

I'd like to spend dozens of years being that fond of someone.  I'm beginning to believe I may have that in me.  For awhile there I was thinking it wasn't possible.

So at the early part of this thing, K--guitar and vocal, L-vocals, and me with trusty harmonica and a little backup harmony/vocal did a song.  A semi-Jesus sort of thing.  It may be one that Patsy Kline sang back in her day.  L really does it well.  I played a couple of instrumentals on it.  The trick is to play a different one each time, even though I'm just echoing the melody on both go rounds.

At the end of the memorial, after everyone spoke and the holy man rambled on quoting Paul, in what seemed to me a pleasant, but nonsensical, incoherent little sermon,  K and L sang Amazing Grace, with me playing subtle harp backup.  Part of it was a kind of version I had not heard before.  But it was great for playing background--nice dynamics.  Then at the end I played it one time through solo.  I like playing that song.  L said she saw some tears from it.

You never know, but I do hope to get to their hearts at times like that.  Plus K took that tune to heaven, with L harmonizing.  When they do that, it is a great feeling to be there accompanying them.  I see why people are always asking them to sing at their funerals.  It has happened.  People say, "promise you'll sing at my funeral when it is my time", then the people kick the bucket a couple of weeks later.  Spooky

I make it a point not to discuss having them sing for my last dead party. No no.  That's like asking for it, and I have  couple of things I'd like to do before hitting the road.    Now that I played with them at  a post mortem event, I wonder if that makes me an apprentice angel of death?  I accused K of being the Angel of Death due to people cashing in their chips, so to speak, shortly after requesting he sing at their memorials.

K and L asked me to do this.  That is why I did it, and they are the kind of friends that their request is reason enough.  I trusted that it would be OK, and that maybe it would help bring something good to the people there who needed it.  People did seem grateful, and the surviving widower appeared to be particularly appreciative.  Normally  do not hang out in church or in mortuaries.  

I feel hypocritical in church because I do not adhere to certain basic tenets that mot of them promote.  And funeral parlors often involve death and grief, neither of which appeals to me all that much.

Most of the, approximately, seventy people went from the service to the guy's house for food and schmoozing.  At some point they gave everyone a helium balloon, and people wrote messages to dear departed Carrie, then on cue let them all go.

They rapidly floated on the stiff breeze out east over whatever mountain range that is east of San Marcos and Encinitas.   It was an unusually cloudy, misty day.  We're glad for the bit of rain in this dry place. I have no idea what ultimately happened to the balloons.  L was glad they didn't go west because she worried they'd kill dolphins or do something to fish.  I don't know.

Maybe they spooked some coyotes.  Coyotes are not your friends.  They aren't like dogs or even wolves.  You can't ever consider one a trusted friend.

Not knowing Carrie, I didn't know what message to send her, so I just said I hope she liked the harp.  That's cool guy slang for harmonica.  She doesn't know me so she won't know I'm not that cool.

Before we let the balloons go, we were all out back by the pool, and her mother got the whole crowd singing that song, "He's got the whole world in his hands".  That woman has rhythm and it was quite a thing.  It seemed very SoCal, in a way, but the best of Southern California.  I've never done anything like it.

The first time I played Amazing Grace was at a large gathering in Miami about 1990 or 1989.  It was at night outside a place where people often found redemption, I guess.  Not a church.  Just a bunch of gad-abouts and ne'er do wells like myself.  The Sunset crowd.

Anyway, that time when I played it, I took more liberties and put my whole soul into it.  They got it.  It had a lot of meaning then, and now. But especially back then.   couple of people said it gave them chills, and it was one of those experiences never to be duplicated.  That night was a big deal in my long term battle to survive.  I feel like that spark has been rekindled lately.  Not that the flame of that time went out, but it was weak and flickering.

An unlikely, lovely person sort of held a mirror before me.  Figuratively of course.  Anyway, it left me thinking that maybe the nature of the way things have always worked for the good in my life wasn't just my imagination, and maybe I should quit trying to deny what is real for me.

Nothing in my life works just three dimensionally in a linear time frame.  It never has.  I always try to make it that way because that's what the "smart productive" people do.  Well, I do poorly like that.  In my world, there is more to life and all that is than meets the eye.  Take it or leave it or both.  I don't care.  When I forget that I have nothing to prove to anyone, I do not do that well.

When I just follow inner nature despite what any family member, Jon Stewart, or some guitar player, or less than loving love interest thinks, I tend to thrive, or show signs that I can thrive.  I've rarely let myself really thrive for any length of time.  Pretty dumb, but it is mine to learn.  Others have their own things to learn.  I'm usually too polite to point that out.

But I've never gone back to the darkest of dark times, even though I have explored some pretty dimly lit alleys.  I blame it on my compulsive heterosexuality, despite the erroneous nature of such excuse.  There's an element of truth.  But a false premise.  Delving into nincompoopery is a choice, and ultimately there is no getting around it.  Brain chemistry and all that may have influence, but it is rarely the whole story.  Once you know the truth, you can't blame the lies, or others for your self defeating choices.

So today was magic, and it was directly connected to once upon a time with the Sunset crowd, and an inexplicable, undeniable longing for sunny Florida.
.

Friday, January 31, 2014

In Avoidance of Resentment

Even now, I won't smoke, won't drink, but I could probably do better with a little less willingness to be annoyed.   That is a round about way of saying it is better to calm down about things I can't influence much, or readily change.

Let me get a few things off my chest:
1. parking lights are for parking.  If you think it is cool to put half the lights on (parking lights) because it is only half dark, you are mistaken.  I won't call you names, but don't do it again.  Put your whole lights on--not the brights though.

Already I made it too complicated.  If the car is moving, no parking lights.

2.  If it is raining at all, put on your lights.

3. Their means they possess it.  They're means they are.  There means a place other than here.  All three sound the same when spoken, however they are not interchangeable terms when written--not even on the internet.  lol

4. It is OK to shoot people who lol or roflmao, etc. when commenting on political matters.  If you want to find the humor in the thug police state in which we live, I suggest you check out Dennis Miller.  He normally creates humor while skewering the opponent without using the equivalent of an emoticon laugh track.  lol

It is OK to never use lol or variations thereof ever in your entire lifetime.  It is also OK to TP the yards of those who use lol and variations thereof so frequently that it makes no sense; "So I got mugged. lol And then the dog barked and I was broke. lol roflmao"  WTF?   wtf is ok because it best sums up a whole lot of what floats around online.

5. The word is definitely, not definately.  One contains the term finite, which hints at the aspect of a clear cut limited, narrowed down, sure thing.  Or something.  brb.  does anyone ever BRB any more?  Probably not because it actually meant what it stood for, be right back.  No exaggeration or pretense.

6.  There is no glory in speeding up to prevent someone from moving into your lane in front of you.  If your ego is that confused and fragile, maybe you should go far away from all people places or things.  Courtesy is not weakness.  Ultimately, it is the only hope if the species is to survive.

7. Just because you have a BMW doesn't mean we can read your mind, though the stereotypical BMW driver profile is rather narrow.  Many assume you think you are superior and entitled.  Here's the deal, USE YOUR TURN SIGNAL.

It can't hurt to show a shred of respect for others, can it?   People don't all hate you for having a snobby car.  It is the rudeness and arrogance that gets the goats of many.  And then they can't catch up to you to beat you up or give you a mean look.  Those krauts do make a fine automobile.

I actually know a fairly nice guy who drives a high end BMW.  Haven't seen him on the road, though.  I suspect it is a Jeckyll and Hyde personality thing.  I'll bet when he gets behind the wheel that his usual Mr. Rogers personality morphs into Alec Baldwin  mode.

8. It would almost be easier not to be loved than to be loved but not respected.  Could be just a family thing, but I have come to realize it is no good.  That goes both ways.  I hope I have not done that to people.  Now that I know that is what generated unexplained pain for many years, I'd feel terrible if I treated others like that.  People are not pets.

9. I love to write, and I love having a tongue.  Both have landed me in a lot of trouble and chased away people whom I did not want to chase away.  I guess I have a weak filter.

 10. What were we talking about?

Oh yea, resentments.  Those things trigger substance abusers and alcoholics into convincing themselves to chemically induce an altered state of awareness.  So, it is not wise to indulge such anger.  Besides deep seeded resentments allegedly contribute to cancer and other health issues.   I think there is truth in that.

Recognizing reality is one thing.  Approving of the status quo is not required, but neither is getting all worked up over things beyond one's control.  Or even things in one's control.  If you can change a thing, then you do or you don't.  Indulging anger over it is no good.

I am playing at a funeral service tomorrow.  Don't know the departed.  A relative of a relative of a friend.

I've caught myself getting worked up over what I consider egomaniac elitists who seem to be constantly trying to prove how superior they are and how intelligent.  They aren't actually any smarter than most people I know.  But they constantly seek ways to assert their imagined superiority through various means.

And they seem to forever be patting themselves on the back, "We are sooo smart. We're the smartest of all, and we have developed coded language to discourage others from being able to join our club or challenge our ideas and dogma.".

Woof woof mofo.  That's what I say!

It is only by accident that I found out they aren't any smarter than I am or than you are.  It is just some big deal to them because they feel like they have to prove themselves, and they are scared to death that they may not be smarter, and since they have nothing else of value, in their view, that would mean they are less than us.

That is how they think.  Sad.  But it does bring rewards, and some of us are just not wired that way.  We cannot begin to relate.  In bewilderment we watch the self-congratulatory, self-styled smarty pants steal their way to fortunes while we self destruct in confused wonder.  We never even knew there was a competition on.

It is all very subtle, and much of the reward in life is well placed and well deserved.  Much is veiled in a bit of skullduggery and deceit.  I know it, and so do most of the ones who stepped on others in some way to boost themselves up.

The trick is to let that go, find one's own right path, and forgive and forget.  Chances are people like me have done as much harm, or more, than those who managed to use me as a footstool to lift themselves to a better level.  I can't say I had no choice in the matter.  Just not sense enough to play a more satisfying role at the time.

11.  Role is like a part you play.  Roll is what a ball does if you push it downhill.  Roll is also a blob of bread which is best served hot, with butter.

Role model, not roll model.  A roll model would be like a toy tire or something.  A role model would be a human example of how to live a good life.

Overall, the idea and definition of role model is over rated and mostly garbage.  To believe that a person worth learning from and whose character qualities are worth emulating has to look like you, is to miss the entire definition of character and virtue.  That is an idiotic idea promoted by guilt laden racists, sexists and opportunists.








Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Mr.Tank Man, Sing Me a Song

How quickly people forget. Either that or they just miss the point. Whatever they do, this guy was OK. The symbol of his act goes beyond China. It is universal. The state vs the individual. Over and over again people try to justify the state as the highest value, as God. It never seems to bring peace or cultural sanity. Many intelligent people still try. Often those who are very impressed with their own IQ and mastery of esoteric, irrelevant trivia which seems to substitute for moral justice in their push for involuntary collectivism. I don't get it, but the majority seem to.





I put this on facebook too so if you saw that, don't hate me.

Part of it is actually a very subtle response to all the Pete Seeger worship and eulogy.  Whereas I think he was right to refuse to answer the Congressional committees back in the fifties, I am no fan of the unions or the communist philosophy he embraced.



Typical of today's democrats and others who either cannot think, or merely hate it when others do, it is assumed that if you don't worship the Pete Seeger - Woodie Guthrie outlook, then you must be a police state type of person.  That is ironic because I see their way as a path to that very thing.



The best of all Pete's views and philosophy was that defiance of an intrusive government, behaving much like the NSA and Homeland Security advocates of present day (under BOTH Bush and Obama).



That's the whole scheme here; two roads which lead to the same place.  We hear both parties thanking military people "for their service" over and over.  An untouchable sentiment, yet both parties abuse and misuse the military force of this country in ways so far beyond criminal that few care to admit it.



Not only is the military not used for defense, its proper role, but increasingly it is gearing up for domestic action against citizens.  Joint exercises between military and local law enforcement have become somewhat commonplace.   For that service, I cannot honestly thank anyone.  I admire the skill, discipline, training and intelligence that many military functions require.  I do not admire how they are being used, and where they are deployed in most cases.  Do I thank them for their service when I think they are used for bad purpose?   For doing their job?  For obeying idiots or thinly veiled corporate crony fascists like the Clintons, Bushes and Obamas?



I guess they mean well.  But I have trouble with this, just as I have trouble supporting police who hide in the bushes, entrap people in "sting" operations, set up roadblocks because someone may be committing a crime, bully people in any number of ways merely to show power, or for fun.  Usually we see the military as a cut above the bully cop, but if the cops cop out by claiming they are "just doing their job", and the military is teaming up with them for "national security" and they too are just doing their job, doesn't that put the soldier over the line to the point where they too become enemies of their own people?



Police have treated the public as enemy for quite some time.  You don't hide out and ambush friends "for their own safety", or conduct random stops and searches without cause if you don't view those people as enemies.  Bring in the army and it becomes clear that citizens are viewed as subjects and enemies by the state.

How many people are abused by police over non-violent, non-property related offenses?  Most cases are unrelated to people endangering others or violating rights of others.  I don't consider tazing prostitutes for being defiant, or motorists over alleged traffic violations as a service deserving of thanks.

I'm not a fan of drugs, but consider the laws and agencies related to them an absurd blight on our society.  Anyone who thinks armed bullies of the state are more to be trusted with drugs and weapons than non-violent neighbors has a naive outlook.  One day he will be under the random search and harassment, and may find it less gentle than he likes.  Abuse and use of authority is far more arbitrary and ugly than most people care to believe or admit.  People just like you are ruined or harassed or killed by the police and governments of this nation every day.  This is wrong.

So be careful how blind your allegiance is, and how blindly you support your local police or our troops.  It can seem a good and holy thing, but it can be a deadly trap.

They say it is becoming easier to start a business, particularly manufacturing, in China than in the USA.  That is crazy.  I guess many in both places want the state to be the religion of the people. Government as God is the new religion, complete with human sacrifice and ritual torture.

I'm one of the growing number of infidels in this context, and proud of it.  I do not think the state or the collective is more holy and valid than the individual.

Neither the state nor any group or person has the right to force sacrifices of an individual's natural rights.  Rights of people are equal and the only limit is that the exercise of rights can't abridge the rights of others.  Rights are not material entitlements, and to believe they are necessitates the violation of the rights of another, or the theft of his time, labor or property.

Democrats do not see this.  Republicans do not see this. Nazis and other socialists do not see this.  No use turning to the bloods, the crips, the communists, Castro or most of Hollywood's finest.

They don't get it either.  Few people in this 'hood or others around the world understand rights, equal rights, or the value in respecting the sanctity of the individual in this regard.

Even here, they love entitlement, royalty and other such nonsense.   Ever notice how the celebrity press and others love to put the Sir in front of Paul McCartney and other knighted entertainers.  We don't do titles of nobility for a reason,  but they are too dumb to get it.  They love royalty, the entitled elite.

A title bestowed by another entitled person whose position and authority come not from merit or public vote, but by caste of birth.  I refuse to call anyone "Sir" whatever.  Perhaps if I ever meet Paul that will be a point of contention, or maybe he'll get it.

Surprisingly, many Christians and others who would love a religious state, including nutcase Muslims, are actually very useful idiots in the quest of the statists to establish the collective as the holiest of values and the governing class as infallible priests of the faith.  They think they can use the state to enforce their own view of holy.  Still, it ultimately empowers the state and implies that the state is the ultimate authority and holiest of holies.

Why do I bother?   I don't know.  It just comes out and is the easiest stuff to write.  I'm not all worked up or obsessed.  I think about life and love and sex and all that is, more than I do about public affairs.  But those things are personal, confusing, different, none of anyone's business, or just harder to discuss.

I've rarely found quitting a bad habit or life threatening addiction as uncomfortable as not smoking is this time.  But I will not be a smoker.  Not today.  It won't fix anything.  For it to be this uncomfortable, I must have really needed to quit.  The worst problems and habits are the ones that call for the biggest changes of attitude, outlook, and behavior to cure them.

Wild and crazy, but that is good.  Makes me feel like I'm making progress again, and I need that.

Friday, January 24, 2014

All Natural

I've got important things to write which I promised to for someone, even though it wasn't requested.  That is because I am a sap.  All natural sappola.  I'll do that later when I feel up to it.  For now, I'll just do this public service information thought.

So when they say "all natural", what does it mean?  Everything in the universe is somewhat natural, isn't it?  Crude oil is all natural.

Lots of leeway for claiming all natural.  I would stop short of calling certain human body enhancements, "all natural", or even enhancements in most cases.  I'm drifting off point, if ever a point there was.

Oh yea.  Your cereal or bread may say, "all natural ingredients"  but that doesn't mean it isn't made out of crude oil or uranium.

Do No Evil? No, google will simply watch over your shoulder making suggestions FOREVER

Every time I do anything on youtube, there is google offering helpful suggestions, like an old fashioned peddlar sticking his foot in the door, not wanting to take no for an answer.   "Hey, would you like to use another name?  Maybe include your address and phone number?  Tie it all in with facebook?  Make it easy for friends, employers, government officials and creditors to track your every internet whim?"

NO NO NO!!!!  Oh?  Not now?  That's OK, we'll harass you some more later, or maybe we'll screw around with your gmail until you give up.

Really.  Google is a lot like that spooky doll, Chuckie.  Or was it with a Y?  I'd look it up but then google will start targeting chucky ads and other creepiness my way.  I learned my lesson when I had a question about Hitler and nazi swastika something---purely an intellectual inquiry.  Next thing I see are advertisements - "best deal on nazi swastika hitler goods on the internet!!  Nazi stores in your area!!  Nazis on sale, just in time for Christmas!!!"

They have programs that take whatever the search topic and try to direct you to some retailer which claims to have the best deal.  Facebook throws all kinds of weirdness in the margins.

I can't believe google and youtube decided to badger me because I like to have my account under a user name.  It is really pushy.  And the email is getting pushy too.  They do not like it that I won't give them my phone number--"for my protection".

The new and wonderful gmail features which can further extend my social circles and somehow include more fake virtual friends in all my activities are hard to refuse.  I have no doubt that if they could, google would put a gun to my head to make me opt in on every feature and suggestion.  They have become such over reaching micro managers of all things, I wonder why they even need me.

They want to finish my sentences push me to name myself how they see fit, make new friends suggested by them; google is like an evil spirit out to possess the innocent.  If this keeps up, I'm going to organize mass exorcisms to cast this demon out of as much of the internet as can be reached with holy water and prayer.

Seriously, I know nothing online is secure or sacred, but can't they just let me pretend instead of chasing me around with intrusive questions like "wouldn't you rather be known as John T%&& S#$%^
of xyz yourtreet, yourcity, yourstate, yourzipcode, home phone, cell phone, emergency contact, bank account number, credit card, hobby, sexual preferences, etc.?"   No, I want to be called Mr Ballistic on youtube; no town, no phone, no nothing. Dammit!!!

 "OK, you can think about it and we'll just make it tougher and tougher to say no and get back to the page you need, because we are google and we're creepier than the creepiest homicidal clown, creepier than Charles Manson, creepier than the creepiest cop or prison guard.  Creepier than the gangs in Oakland and Watts and Miami.  Creepier than the NSA or the IRS or the TSA.  Creepier than the woman stoning, head cutting, clergy of the 'religion of peace'. Creepy!"

I don't know the answers.  I can't define God, and I don't even go along with most of the key tenets of the religions which abound in America.  But I do know the devil when I see it.  Facebook, authoritarianism, statism, dishonesty in business and elsewhere, government-business(or corporate) partnerships, and GOOGLE prying into my life, and insinuating itself into every decision and choice I make when connected to whatever it is; internet, cloud, boogieman, blabla.   Next they'll be throwing up the hypothetical "social contract" (which I never signed).

Even with so little to go on, I think there is more to life and all existence than meets the eye.  My atheist nephew argues that there are only four dimensions; length, width, height, time.   I think time is not constant, and that there are many more dimensions.  It is not something I can prove easily. But I have visited other dimensions, I'm sure of it.  But I don't care if others see or not, to a point.

Dimension may be the wrong word for it, but I know of no other.  It strikes me that those who are most violently insistent about matters involving belief in God, or lack thereof, seem to be doubtful of their own beliefs, and out to prove their convictions, even if they have to beat you up to prove themselves.

I know google is the devil because it makes me want to go smoke in their offices and make trouble.  But I do not smoke for them or any other devil.  If they'd quit with being so pushy I might like them OK.  We could even be friends on facebook or somewhere.


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Like spring on a summer's day

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