get 'em while they're hot

My new book's here, gonna blow your minds but first you have to read it.  The Light of a Day's Metallic.  very small run so if you want one, e-mail me: defiantworm@yahoo.com. 20.00 as usual.

what's in a name

I noticed lately that the U.S.A. no longer uses soldiers. The adventurers springing from our shores are now all warriors. I'm pretty sure they're not Indians so it makes me wonder what's going on. Soldiers fetch the image of men reluctantly doing their duty, “soldiering on” to satisfy the government's requirement of killing or getting killed. Or both. “Warriors”, however, evokes the image of men who like nothing better than to run joyously into battle. It's what they get up for in the morning, wouldn't know what to do with themselves if they weren't fighting.

Could be they're still as reluctant as ever, volunteer army or not, still comprised largely of people who saw no more appealing alternative.   Maybe it's simply because “warrior” goes better with “wounded” and there's sure plenty of them. Wounded warriors sounds a lot cooler than sick soldiers. Maybe it's just that and not actually a p.r. campaign to make combat sound enviable.  Or to make of the participants a distinct class of  citizens.   Hard to say these days.

sign of the times

I don't get where all the hand wringing is coming from about “sexual harassment.” We all know what her ass meant. The most cherished American icon, melting hearts and inspiring enlistment for over half a century, is the photo of that sailor from WWII who saw an American woman publicly displaying in her sexy nurse outfit. It was V.J. Day so of course he couldn't resist bending her over backwards to plant a big one on her very public lips. Ever since then we've understood that's the way it is and how it should be. Men are men and women are, well, they're irresistible. You know darn well that if a big old sex-crazed Wave got photographed bending some small doctor over, it just wouldn't have caught fire because we can't relate to that.

Times being what they are, when everybody's opinion is a big deal, some people are saying she may not have enjoyed that kiss. Sure. There's a reason why the series of statues honoring this moment is titled “Unconditional Surrender.”

Without doubt the uniforms are what immortalized the picture, made it bigger than two people caught in a moment of national ecstasy. This was the entire U.S. Navy nailing all those nurses that have been sauntering by them without so much as a howdy-do. Nowadays it would just as likely be some big homosexual Marine grabbing an unsuspecting male nurse. And where would be the outrage then? People would say it was gay rights, that's all.

A 25 foot tall statue of this famous photo dominates the Sarasota bayfront. If our current president had been born 20 years earlier and managed to get himself a sailor suit, that photo would have been more to the point and made an even better statue. Those same people probably would call it a monument to sexual assault. If that's what it is, then so be it. Art imitates life and that sculpture sets the tone for the fundamental aspect of life continuing. This is the United States of America and here it stands. Parents in Sarasota don't have to worry about teaching their kids the birds and the bees. They can just take them to the park. We're lucky it wasn't a Confederate soldier. They'd probably have to pull it down.

peas porridge cold

Regarding the moral outrage now seething in the Senate, I'd like to know what has positioned that August body to resent rubbing shoulders with sexual deviates. I recall this being the crowd that sat on their hands while the Iraq horror was cooked up and delivered; the same club that presided over Viet Nam, the host of the McCarthy era, etcetera, we could take it all the way back to extermination of the Indians. Would that senators confine their sins to sexual deviancy and do their job with a modicum of decency.

If Alabama voters, never renowned for their great choices, want a pedophilic sexual predator to represent them, then that's what they should have. Hell – look at the g-damn President. Furthermore, maybe Ray Moore doesn't fill that bill anymore. Considering his trademark religious fervor, the man's probably been trying hard to reform and get right with God. Who knows? He might even become someone who will vote against war. Remember Robert Byrd?

rise of the couch tomatoes

I noticed people are still making sounds with their mouths about how the football workers shouldn't ought to be protesting. One guy at the St. Pete Seafood Festival, where I was selling my great books, said to me they shouldn't be exercising their American right to protest “at work”. Where else are they going to do it? Work is the only place where they're coerced into standing for the anthem.

I find it unsettling that this is seen as a protest. Aren't these men just exercising their American right (American Indians not included) to the pursuit of happiness which, for some people means not standing up because a particular song they never liked that much is playing for the umpteenth time right before they go to work? This is required only of sports heroes. What if every time you sat down at your desk in the morning, the office manager stood up and started belting out the Star spangled Banner? Would you feel like standing except maybe to punch him out?

Maybe they feel like they've demonstrated their patriotism enough times already. Maybe they're hoping for a better rendition with musical accompaniment. Time was, you got a brass band, not a lone egomaniac who is sure we're going to like it a cappella. Maybe they see standing as an empty gesture, nothing on actually going to war. Who's to say standing beats kneeling anyway? The biggest question is why does anybody care?

Why are people watching these games? Why is it so important?  Why do they rise briefly from the couch to condemn the gladiators for being sentient?  Watching sports on tv is fine entertainment for people who unfortunately are disabled. One of the strangest spectacles of modern times is able bodied people sitting down watching other people play football and then talking about it all week when they could organize pick-up games and go outside and actually experience it and relive their own glory. Pass footballs, not time. You live only once.

how far is up

The question of the day, for baseball fans is: why is it okay to make fun of athletes for being short? Why are race and religion not okay but stature, apparently is fair game? i.e. Jose Altuve 5' 6'' slugger on the Astros. Nobody says “Who knew a Hispanic guy could hit the ball that far?” Nope. It's his size they hang the humor on. Here's revered sportscaster Bob Costas' hilarious comment while Altuve celebrated after hitting a home run: "It's enough to make a guy feel six feet tall." Further evidence is the popular 70's song “Short People” which lays it out succinctly - “Short people have no reason to live.” Why not black people? Certainly they have no more reasons to live than a short one. Or how about short black people? Who can argue with that? Nary a mention. Perhaps someday "short" will be isolated as a race and then they'll fall under the umbrella of politeness. 

However Indians don't get a pass. They get to be team mascots and suffer the indignity of hilarious caricatures. We don't see the Nashville Negroes out there with a picture of Al Jolson on their caps. Speaking of that, there's no Jewish team either so here we have selective fun poking. Where's the Charleston Chinese with a chink in the armor?

Maybe the Indians have to take it because there just ain't many of 'em left. What's wrong with using the cause of that? Why no Cleveland Cavalry with a picture of Randolph Scott on the cap? If there was the Connecticut Cavalry, then they could play the Indians and we'd see what's what.
Back to Altuve, it all seems like good fun but I'll bet it originates in a dark place. People are accustomed to feeling superior to short people and they don't like it when one of them makes this very difficult. So they just have to bring it all back to the inescapable fact. They won't give him an even footing, so the Sportscasters have to keep reminding us that he's short, something Altuve has probably been fighting his entire life. They'll probably give him an asterix in the record books.

Just thinking it's interesting these days that news of seeming importance on first blush, in the onslaught of important following news just fades into oblivion, not solved nor resolved nor answered for; no longer important. It's like viewing an endless stream of trailers but they never make the movie. We all can think up plenty from the past month. Or can we? The question is have they become less important, less important relative to the new thing which soon will be replaced in our minds, or were they never important? Is importance a passing fancy? Do we really need to be titillated by any of it and if not, why do we embrace the farce?

Maybe we just never tire of fetching the stick.

Amen

Regarding the genuflecting football players, I don't see where lies the disrespect. Having been raised Catholic, I've always known that to be an act not only of respect but worship. If there is offense it might be found in the appropriating of it for the NFL which should be worshiped legs up on a couch with a fistful of pretzels and a can of Schlitz.

As far as the national anthem is concerned, we're supposed to worship that with human sacrifice. And we do. I just fail to see how any of this is unpatriotic. Perhaps inquiring minds should be wondering why Americans are inundated in patriotic songs at every televised sports event. Will an even greater sacrifice soon be required of us?

last excerpt from Last Opus

...We don't kill defenseless women and children, do we Jim? Do we?' HIs hands are shaking.
Again Jim orders him back on course, cocking his gun. An infinite calm pervades the pilot like a balmy breeze through the soul of a man with no doubts, who knows for the first time what he must do. He refuses again and the co-pilot shoots him in the chest.and the mission is back on and the pattern continues - governments resolving their differences by killing each others' tax payers. On an ever grander scale.
'Who'd have guessed Paul for a traitor?' the co-pilot says to one of the crew as Hiroshima comes into range."
"He's not a traitor," Doreen Rampi yelled.
"He is so," yelled Ronnie, "and I'm glad he got shot.".....

continued from previous episode -

And then the line went dead and suppose he got mulling over that last call and as the plane approached Japan a greater allegiance started disturbing him – an allegiance to all of mankind, an allegiance to his parents who raised him to be kind. An allegiance to God who surely had not sanctioned such horror borne into the sky and who likely would damn him to Hell for releasing it. Maybe he would get thinking about the insidious insanity of war and how, once begun it is infectious, leading more and more people into insane, immoral acts. And suppose he realizes that if dropping this bomb on these people is what it takes to reach a goal, then that goal must not be reached. And then he knows that no president and no government has the right to ask any one man to wipe out a city of families.”

“But didn't that end the war and save lots of Americans?” Doreen Rampi asked.

“If we're trading the lives of Japanese civilians for American soldiers, then shouldn't the man making that decision be the one to do it? Wouldn't that be the manly way? If Harry Truman thinks... ..to be continued

For a good time...

October schedule for Defiant Worm Books, starring Tom Levine


7 -8 - Vero Beach Riverside Park Art & Craft Show

13 -15 - St. Augustine Greek festival

21-22 - Thornebrook Art Show, Gainesville

27-29 - Johns Pass Seafood Festival

Excerpt from my latest novel, The Last Opus of Hector Berlioz, 2016, more timely by the day: the scene is chapter 17, Peace Camp.

“Let us stand with hands over hearts and not say the Pledge of Allegiance. Instead I want you kids to think how amazing life really is on our planet and how great that we get to live it. Think about how fun it is that tomorrow comes and the day after and the day after. And how we get one chance to experience it and what an outrageous opportunity that is.”

Ronnie Vogel belched. Hector Berlioz cringed, then told the tittering campers to calm back down.

“Have you heard about the nuclear bombing of Japan to end world War 2?” he asked thirty indifferent peace campers sitting cross legged and sprawling on the grass.

All nodded their heads hypnotically. Ronnie said, “The Japs had it comin'.”

“They did not,” Doreen Rampi retorted.

“This is what Admiral Leahy, chief of staff to President Truman said about it:

"'It is my opinion that the use of this barbarous weapon at Hiroshima and Nagasaki was of no material assistance in our war against Japan. The Japanese were already defeated and ready to surrender because of the effective sea blockade and the successful bombing with conventional weapons. In being the first to use it, we had adopted an ethical standard common to the barbarians of the Dark Ages.'
“Were the barbarians of the Dark Ages Good Guys?”
Most of the campers shook their heads. “That's why we call it the Dark Ages, isn't it? It's something we are told we have emerged from into the light of humanity, so we can see our advancement.”
They nodded automatically.
“Well then, how could this guy be right? We're the good guys. The ones everybody is always glad to see.”
“I'll bet he was a spy,” Ronnie asserted.
“Even so, what if,” Berlioz posed, “the residents of Hiroshima had known what was coming and they were able to call the pilot of the Enola Gay over the radio?”
A few campers returned to giggling. “What's that?” Ronnie blurted. “A queer lizard?”
“He didn't say a gay anole,” Doreen chided.”
“Well then, what...”
“It's the plane that flew over a Japanese city called Hiroshima into which the people in the plane dropped an atom bomb. You ever been next to a tiny firecracker when it goes off? Imagine being next to an atom bomb. Soon city officials would be rescued from boring issues like a storm drain blockage or a down telephone line.”
“Cool,” Ronnie said.
Hector tried not to hate Ronnie, maybe his parents just a little. “Don't you think they were entitled to a telephone call? A chance to argue for not being arbitrarily disintegrated?”
Being children, they recognized sense in what Berlioz was saying and to their surprise, became interested.
“Heck, in this country we get to contest a twenty dollar parking ticket. Suppose Hiroshima residents were lined up, each with a minute to talk to the pilot on a phone that could translate their words into English. Women telling about the stupid but lovable things their husbands do, men speaking proudly, hopefully of their children, children telling what they plan to do when they grow up, grandparents speaking of their legacy. Suppose this went on and on as the plane flew thirteen hours toward its target. What would the pilot say to them? That they were wrong? That the bomb he carried was for a military target and they could go on with their lives? What if they convinced him of how bad it would be? Would he try to tell each caller why it was alright that he would end their lives soon, take away their trip to the country, their next family vacation parents had worked toward all year, render obsolete the good grades students had worked hard to achieve, make a joke of Mom's recent visit to the grocery, blow to Kingdom Come all their emotions; and it wasn't really his fault because his country had told him to do it and he had pledged allegiance to that country all his life so he had no choice? That his allegiance to his country had entitled him to kill them and stop all their hopes and dreams, all their love for life and one another? What if one of the callers said, 'but your country doesn't tell you to do this. Only your government does. Have you pledged allegiance to the government? You do this not because you are forced to but because you agreed to. When you stand before God he may ask you who told you you could drop that bomb and what a poor excuse will be your government then.'
“And then the line went dead. Suppose the pilot got thinking about that last call and ...to be continued

---

where's the leeches?

the tide of medical advance is held back by the fact that it must remain simple enough for doctors to understand how to use it.

One Enormous Sneeze

 

Kate Smith was belting out the quintessential God Bless America as she does every time I'm selling books at the Lake Ebola Farmers Market. The concept always struck me as a bit nutty. I never could understand exactly what that's supposed to be and why Captain Creation would want to do it. Or why She would have to be reminded to if She was up for it.
Since they're so bent on instilling nationalistic fervor at every conceivable televised American sporting event, they ought to just play a record of Kate Smith. Nobody does it like her. She could get Quakers marching off to war.

As I listened to this great rendition, it struck me my confusion lies in the dishonest terminology. What people really mean is God Bless Americans but that's too self centered and might put God off. Not to mention it wouldn't even sound right to us. We could shorten it to God Bless Us but then people in other countries could steal it.
It's a common way modern patriotism seems to work- Obfuscation. It's supposed to be this glorious land we're worried about defending. America – that place we're already engaged in devastating without any outside help. The mission of all media is just to obstruct clarity.
The way I see it God already blessed America – when she made it. It's probably a one time thing. The Indians seem to have been satisfied with that but European man had a better idea.

I kid you not. Donald Trump is the president of the United States. No. Really. I'm not making this up. You have to believe me........ Why would I make this up?

Let me put it another way. The president of the United States is Donald Trump. Yes, that Donald Trump. (click)

the futility of trying to warn the past

Just remember to live each day like it's the first day of the rest of your wife.

I've just started seeing Irma's most desperate victims - the local news people struggling to come up with something to report.  It's heart wrenching.   Irma's fizzle is the disaster they failed to prepare for.

humans - you gotta love 'em

How people love a line.  Looking at televised views of miles of evacuees stuck in north bound highway lanes scorning the empty side across the median, in some cases to the end of their gas, explains a lot.  We're a herd animal really with little desire to think and act for ourselves.

Strange that the talking faces don't remark about this illogical behavior or the fact that interstate highways are not the only roads available.  Interesting that the powers that be don't block off the south bound lanes to the few cars on them and officially open at least some of  them to evacuees.  Perhaps they just don't care.  

I'm pretty sure it would take only one innovative soul crossing over to start the migration.  It would be a beautiful thing to behold.  Maybe the start of a new day. 

for the head scratchers

Whatever favor the current president enjoys among Americans may be understood in light of the fact that the donut's popular appeal lies in what's missing.

the new bigotry

With the ascendance  or descendance of Trumpelstiltskin into the White House, the new bigotry I noted way back is now firmly entrenched.  It is versatile, depending on neither race, religion, income nor gender.  The object of its derision is simply Trump supporters.

And so the rabble continue chewing away at each other rather than employing our teeth where it might do some good.  Just like we're supposed to.  It's those little pats on the head that make it all worthwhile.

breakingnews

i heard there's a new on-line barber shop opening today: e-clips

global what?

I just thought I 'd point out how lucky we are that global warming is taking a break while we hash out our petty human problems.

new kkk anthem

Who's the leader of the club
That's made for you and me?
D-O-N-A-L-D   T-R-U-M-P

Hey there! Hi there! Ho there!
You're as welcome as can be,
D-O-N-A-L-D   T-R-U-M-P!

Be a man!
Donald Trump!
Join the Klan!
Donald Trump!

Forever let us hold our banner
High, high, high. High!
Come along let's sing the song
And join the jamboree!
D-O-N-A-L-D  T-R-U-M-P!

KU KLUX KLAN!
KU KLUX KLAN!
Forever let us hold our banner
High, high, high. High!

Who's the leader of the club,
That's made for you and me?
D-O-N-A-L-D  T-R-U-M-P!

Hey there! Hi there! Ho there!
You're as white as you can be,
D-O-N-A-L-D T-R-U-M-P!

Be a man!
Donald Trump!
Join the Klan!
Donald Trump!

Forever let us hold our banner
High, high, high. High!
Come along and sing the song
And join our jamboree!

D-O-N (N 'cause you're so Nasty)
A-L-D (D 'cause you're delightful)
T-R-U-M-Peeee

Hurtful more than receiving the truth is being deemed unable to cope with it. 

It's Biblical

"All these things my hand has made, and so all these things came to be, declares the Donald.  But this is the one to whom I look:  he who is humble and contrite in spirit and trembles at my word." Trump 66:2 

riddle of the week

Where does Donald Trump get his info?

Answer:

The Liebrary

Of course congress has its own branch

blowers in the wind revisited

When humans wish to demonstrate that their species alone can boast true intelligence, they must be very selective about the evidence they present. What works for me is the human capacity for operating a “blower” to clear leaves and dirt from pavement. Even more compelling is the human capacity to pay someone else to do it. Perhaps they never have heard about our friends “wind” and “rain” who humbly perform the task with neither clamor nor pollution. Maybe they are unfamiliar also with “brooms”.

With fallen leaves and bits of dirt Mother nature casually decorates the asphalt zones defending our feet against contact with earth. This is an offense. But instead of Varoom why not a broom?

The broom simply is not a stupid enough solution to their neurosis. One may ask why can't some transient dirt and leaves lay upon the paving? And why must the space support for all time no sign of the organic? Apparently it is in the human brain that nature once vanquished shall remain vanquished. She may mount no comeback however pitiful and ineffectual.

There you have it. At any time of the day you may hear a man with a blower moving leaves off pavement as wind blows them back. Just yesterday I witnessed a man blowing leaves off a public highway. No other animal is interested in this project.

Pee is for Public

 

I just ran into an old pal I haven't seen in awhile, turns out governor Baldo stuck him on the St. Johns River Water Mismanagement District board. Not a favorable reflection on him. He confirmed that there is a plan afoot to put treated sewage in Orlando taps. He also gave me a preview of the bullshit they'll try to justify it with: better for the aquifer, all that usual posturing as an environmentally friendly organization. That's what they'll be presenting to you. But, as I got him to admit, they're doing it only to justify more building, more destruction of what nature is still perilously hanging on, more money for the fatcats at the expense of us and Florida. 

The official mission statement of this government agency, after all, is to “find water for development.” The sewage we drink and bathe in will be just that - “found water.” Apparently they are being constrained from further abusing the aquifer so it's time to recycle so they can continue abusing Central Florida. Very simply, in order to get more people squeezed in here, we have to drink out of the toilet. I pointed out that it would be more respectful to leave our water alone and hook up the new lines with the treated sewage. 

At present they still are studying ways to do it and ways to present it in a favorable light to the public. If anybody cares, now would be a good time to start expressing dissent. Treated water in our houses doesn't mean saving the aquifer. It means more traffic, more pollution and overall degraded quality of life. You know. The usual goals of our representatives.

Once in a while my avoidance of all things called news fails and I become apprised of something more involved people have been living with for some time. The other day I saw and heard the video from the Castille horror and learned what we as a civilization have come to. Forget about the moon landing, hybrid cars and aspirations toward Mars. We've come down to a little girl trying to save her mommy from getting “shooted” by a cop. Can anyone say who has seen this video that his world has not been permanently darkened?

I don't see how we can get past this. I certainly think I can't. I can't think of anything I've seen that is harder to take. And yet where are the tears? If not for this, what are we saving them for? When we should be nationally heart broken, why do we view this as a damn shame, another damn shame on the pile of damn shames from the avalanche of horrible incidents we are suffocating under?

When John Kennedy was shot, people all across this nation wept. I think we're not capable of that anymore. That little girl deserves not the heartfelt regret but the tears of every one who heard her voice. And we as people, until we can give her that respect, will never be right with ourselves and we'll never progress beyond this point. Modern man lives with the suffering of millions and it has made him numb to all but his own.

confederacy of dunces

I feel compelled to comment that if our habitat is extinguished by global warming, we deserve it. Most people who are experts figure it's probably too late to fix the atmosphere but Norway bought a swath of South American rain forest anyway because in case there still is time, trees are our first line of defense. Meanwhile here in Florida, United States of Oblivion, we're still into destroying as many trees as “developers” want to. With this in mind I just drove by another giant parcel of land between Lake Mary and Sanford entirely cleared of life for a new and much needed subdivision so more people can live here and accelerate the death of the aquifer. This of course promoted and allowed by the shit-for-brains Seminole County commissioners. Also allowed to happen by all of us. Why should we do our bit to slow global warming when we can speed it up instead? If we have not yet reached the tipping point, at some point we will. Maybe this particular tree loss will be what pushes us over.

If sanity ruled, the populace would go to this wounded land, replant it and refuse to allow this sort of thing to happen anymore. We have the numbers to pull it off. We just lack the will. Insanity is king.

Here's an incongruity:  TV News outlets decrying terrorist attacks while encouraging them with their saturation coverage.  These days we all know what it looks like.  Your news anchor need say only the location.  We can, if we wish, imagine the rest.  No footage, no horrified opinions, no glamour.  Just on to a  story about the latest breakthrough foot powder. 

It doesn't take even half a brain to see this is a better way and easily achieved.  The question I would like answered by a network executive is why do they give the perpetrators exactly what they crave?

America – where people walk around looking at a telephone that's smarter than they are in one hand and a “fidget” toy in the other. Apparently our stupidness is limited only by our number of appendages. Anybody who says “Not my president” just doesn't get the joke.

There is wit in every twit.

Never bring a bluegill to a tarpon fight.

Barnes ain't Noble

If cows learned to read, people would stop doing it.

...from Bass Fishing in Outer Space

Unruly Germans

Finding himself in a vacuum of enforced rules, a German will seek out some that he may navigate his day.

My latest t-shirt:

MAKE AMERICA

 GOOD AGAIN

to get one- e-mail at defiantworm@yahoo.com - 20 bucks total

black, dark blue or white
medium, large or extra large

preparedness

Considering the compelling problem of the fate of your facebook account after death, I suggest these options based on how you die and your disposal arrangements:

Ordinary death and standard burial: Considering your body remains intact and is shunted away underground, a camera can be installed to monitor your progress and post (mortem) regular updates to your still living “friends” who will likely make an annual Haloween ritual of it. This sort of thing would have been all the rage with goofballs like Beethoven and Tchaikovsky.

Premature burial: you can be planted with wi-fi that you may alert your “friends” to the situation and hope they haven't already become unfriends.

Egyptian: Burial with computer. This will present a seamless transition into the afterlife. Unfortunately you will not be able to update your living “friends” about your trip. Or will you?

If you lose the car industry lottery and are chosen for ritual highway mutilation, you may wish just one photo posted daily with your parts arranged “just so”, by a friend with a really strong stomach or great sense of humor subtitled “How do you like me now?” Or “Check this out.”

Facebook is perhaps the most powerful argument against cremation. I mean, like who cares? That could be anybody. Probably is. It is safe to say that little urn of ashes is not going to hold anybody's attention very long. “I can't keep doing this,” your friends will be saying after a couple days. “I know. Nothing ever happens.” And tragically “Why did she have to die? This is so boring.” If you get them spread out somewhere, the technology isn't there yet to keep up with that.

Cryogenic: “Really? That's all you've got? Hello. Get over yourself.” When and if they remember to bring you back, facebook may not exist, making that a total waste of good refrigerant.

If you had been presenting a facebook charade about your life, forget continuing that. In the end dead is dead and nobody is going to envy you.

Any way you look at it, facebook has added another layer of tedium to dying. Maybe the thickest layer yet.

Man claims many distinctions from the beasts, chief among these the ability to read.  Without it he could not have advanced to where he is today.

Damn reading.

...from Bass Fishing in Outer Space

Good times is a comin'

“Ya know,” Ben Carson's great x 15 grandaddy says to his pals in their steerage berth on the way over, after a friendly game of checkers, “I used to wield a knife purty good. Skinnin out a zebra, pokin a bug, even carvin some monkey's brain out and eatin it if I was a mind. When we gets to this here land uv milk and money we's a headin to, I hopes some day about (he scratches the top of his head) say four hunnerd years fum now that my great x 15 grandson can make a livin wif a knife too. And run for president. What a great land we're a goin to where just four hunnerd years fum now of sex wif the white man, give or take a few, some genetically diluted offspring uv mine will once again be as free as I was a couple hours ago. Praise the Lord.”

“Amen.”

on modern times

“It's not that there is more stupidity in the world. It just has more intrusive ways of presenting itself. Time was, you could be near an idiot without knowing it. With today's advances, that's less likely.”

...Paradise Interrupted 

On the Utility of Optimism

“Optimism is a deadly vice of gigantic proportions lodged into the human psyche by Satan. It is the enemy of reality. We see a bad situation and optimism prevents us from extrapolating that. Instead we think, "Oh, it's bound to get better." So we plunge into the thicket, sure that it will thin, denied the aerial view that would show us the true, unacceptable horror of our lot. Perhaps optimism is good for prison escapees, who have no choice but to plod on. The rest of us are not well served. It poisons our judgment.”

... from Paradise Interrupted

On Trumpelstiltskin - It's always seemed that everything we hear from the powers that be, we hear because we're supposed to hear it. Thinking that the influential believe the rabble should be truthfully informed is, as Spock would say, illogical.  The media is  less entertainment and information than a conduit into the brains of the "consumers" to keep them enthralled.  If this is the case, then Trump intentionally makes provably incorrect remarks that we will become apprised of through the various means.   I'm pretty sure he's playing the role of  dumass.  In retrospect it seems similar to George Bush who is eerily more articulate now that it doesn't matter.   Why we're supposed to perceive Trump that way, besides the distraction factor, who knows.  And she's not telling.   But it can't be good. And as long as we keep buying into the hilarity of it all, the less likely we are to figure it out.

knockout punch telegraphed

In case anybody would like to do something to stop it, organized forces of destruction are zeroing in on S. Volusia County (New Smyrna, Edgewater) with of course full complicity of  government entities.  This at a time when we need every tree we can get.  Me, I surrender.  Insanity wins.

accepting responsibility

We have a choice these days concerning the president. We can scorn and deride him, as it is fashionable to do, pile on and flail away at his idiosyncrasies; or we can recognize that this nation and populace selected to represent us a man frozen socially at the age of twelve; a man who never hid the fact that he is at a loss to interact with people within the accepted norms. Now, unbelievably beyond his level of competence, he is struggling somehow to acquit himself in the company of Washington through Obama. We the people, enabled by democracy, did this to him. As a righteous, just and compassionate crowd we should respect his effort and champion him against all detractors. Not my president? You don't get to say that in a democracy. That's what some people would call being in denial. He's a dufus but by God he's our dufus. Let's show the love.

Up, Up and Away

Sure, Lady Gaga's pretty good but I'm hoping all patriotic Americans, not just New Englanders, are on board with the Mars program, especially after viewing The Martian. Who needs Earth anyway?  This is our true manifest destiny.  The Indians were small potatoes.  In fact there probably was one named Small Potatoes.  Never got 'em out of Cleveland but who wants to live there anyway? Yep, for mazillions of moon years New Englanders have been hopscotching across the galaxy defeating native football teams, telling everybody how they do it up Nawth and developing the requisite technology and social hysteria to spread our seed in the form of Dick Cheney and Laura Bush just as the last ounce of air is sucked from the respective football. So what if there's still a little oil left.  Why try to resuscitate week old roadkill?  It's time to move on everybody. My only reservation is the choice of our next planet. It looks like we've already been to Mars.

While signing and selling my unusually excellent books this summer, I met a former state department slave, currently with the Asia Institute, very fine fellow who has rebelled against the disingenuousness of it all and written a book well worth reading. He very clearly makes our case. It's available by all electronic means: Get The Sustenance of Words by Daniel Garrett.

a post Apocalypstick observation

Christians have been offered a choice of role models. The kindly disposed embrace Jesus while the rest lean toward God. As Leo Durocher once pointed out, “Nice guys finish last.”

ghost mortem

On the occasion of the Presidential Unniggeration of our nation for the salvation of this Jenneration, let me just say without malice aforethought that to hell with it all is not such a poor thought.   In the receiving line I noticed Barry had to briefly tarry but Uncle Joe just let it pass, might have been gas but not to con him, Joe just didn't want to get any donald on him.

While stromboling in Deland's New York Pizza I glimpsed the Unniggeral Ball where Donald Frump and his woman were not perzactly zoomin and the tv nation reelin' mustabeen sharin' my feelin' that the guy cut a rug only to place it on his ceilin'.  Then Mike Pense and his indelicate mate swirled close by and  in the slug-like perfection of those proximate whirpools the U.S. became uncool  while buzzards started to drool at the aspect of this ghoul and the worst of the worst rehearsed and got in line first.  But somewhere birds are tweeting, dolphins still make love in the water and earthworms aerate the soil, humans already strange enough to them without trying to understand this latest lack of oil.

I noticed this mornin the sun a little late warmin this self indulgent palace run by the callous and the moon ain't so gibbous when it just got to rib us and the dog ain't got a bone but maybe it is just the Twilight Zone.

fast and furious

The upcoming inauguration proves that sometimes the dog does catch the car.

the sheriff is near

to whomever you are out there,  my head emptied out the other day due to circumstances beyond my control and it plum ran out of things to say.   If anything gets back in there, i will try to write it immediately lest thoughts and such should regain a toehold.

keeping up

From Aeteoroa a person easily can conclude that most people who claim, usually unsolicited, the United States as the world's greatest country probably haven't visited this land of meat pies, relentless scenery and human kiwis.  In fact while Earth most certainly is the greatest planet in the known solar system, I often wonder why it is important to some Americans to say the land they occupy has won this nonexistent contest.  Isn't "Greatest Damn Planet" good enough for them?   I also wonder if they would claim it wherever they lived: Iraq, Israel, Texas is the greatest country in the world.  And yes, I still wonder whether Goofy is a dog or a planet.