Illegal opportunities
I think since the 70's -- or earlier (when did the Miranda case happen...?) -- I've found our legal system very confusing. I'm sure it helps little having an attorney as a father. Dad is the original contradictory man. The greatest issue which bothers me is that a detctive's job has nothing to do with finding the actual guilty party, but rather finding someone -- anyone -- who fits the profile. So long as some individual had motive & opportunity, that person is considered guilty at lest till they are found "not-guilty" in court.
Then, of course, in a criminal case, one has to deal with a lawyer who may not be able to talk as good a game as the opposing attorney & a group of people who are intended to be -- but certainly aren't -- one's peers. Does this really make sense to anyone?
What prompts me to bring this subject up is what was once (although it may still be) referred to as "entrapment". We don't hear this term any longer, but rather what would lead to it. We hear the word "sting" -- which, as anyone who'd seen the movie of the same title knows, is a term used in grifting, or, the art of the con. Would this not imply that one is trying illegally to take something from another...?
Now, I certainly don't condone the act of sex with any minor, but I just saw part of one of these "stings" performed by the talking monkeys at 20/20. I suspect they've done this in past & found that their ratings were high, in turn they do it again.
What they'd done was hire an eighteen year old girl to pose as a thirteen year old girl. Why any man over the age of eighteen would really do more than experience a short fantasy -- whether a good thing or bad in itself -- of sex with a thirteen year old girl confuses me alone. But, then to actually seek to meet &, perhaps, have sex with the girl completely boggles my mind.
Apart from what I or anyone else thinks about such a coupling, what incredible stupidity would possess one to pursue such when there are countless stories in the news about this very thing? Do these people really think themselves special? Do they believe they could either get away or continue to get away with this when so much of society is driving arrests, convictions, & a life of being hounded by neighbours & the law for doing something clearly not acceptable by society's standards?
But my point -- & do not think that I am suggesting for an instant that I think those seeking sex with under-age kids should be left alone or are innocent of a crime -- is that such "stings" are wrong as well.
I don't care if we're talking about the sale of drugs, prostitution, insurance fraud, or child molestation. What we're talking about is fraudulently representing yourself. Forget the fact that in reality the young woman who was posing as a thirteen year old girl is actually eighteen & of legal age, forget the fact that while the police perform these fraudulent acts frequently for the purpose of getting someone to incriminate themselves, but that the eighteen year old girl & 20/20 bozos were working with the cops in an even greater sham than the original "sting". Worse -- those very cops were in hiding till after the 20/20 producer walked out, like Allen Funt from Candid Camera, to explain the situation.
If indeed this were truly legal, what are the cops hiding from?
Time for another installment of...
Hit & Run
Eat yer meat
May 30, 2007 WASHINGTON (AP) - The Bush administration said Tuesday it will fight to keep meatpackers from testing all their animals for mad cow disease. The Agriculture Department tests less than 1 percent of slaughtered cows for the disease, which can be fatal to humans who eat tainted beef. But Kansas-based Creekstone Farms Premium Beef wants to test all of its cows. Larger meat companies feared that move because, if Creekstone tested its meat and advertised it as safe, they might have to perform the expensive test, too. The Agriculture Department regulates the test and argued that widespread testing could lead to a false positive that would harm the meat industry. A federal judge ruled in March that such tests must be allowed. U.S. District Judge James Robertson noted that Creekstone sought to use the same test the government relies on and said the government didn't have the authority to restrict it.
-AP
Is it just me, or does a false positive seem like a good thing?
Everybody must get stoned
May 30, 2007 GENEVA (AP) - Smoking from a water pipe may pose the same health risks as cigarettes, the World Health Organization said Tuesday, adding that there's a need for more research into the link between hookahs and a number of fatal illnesses. The hookah, used for centuries in North Africa, the Middle East and Central and South Asia, has become increasingly popular in the West, particularly among college students and young adults. Hookah bars have sprung up in cities across the United States, and groups of people often visit them to relax and talk while smoking from the water pipes. WHO, however, warned that using the water pipe to smoke tobacco is "not a safe alternative to cigarette smoking." In a seven-page document on the practice, the U.N. health agency said the rising popularity of hookahs is partly due to commercial marketing. "Contrary to ancient lore and popular belief, the smoke that emerges from a water pipe contains numerous toxicants known to cause lung cancer, heart disease and other diseases," said WHO, which also issued a 50-page report Tuesday urging all countries to ban smoking in public buildings. WHO warned that using water pipes to consume shisha - a mixture of tobacco, molasses and fruit flavors - usually exposes a person to more smoke over a longer period of time than do cigarettes. The health agency said a person can inhale more than 100 times more smoke in a hookah session than in a single cigarette. By delivering nicotine, the water pipe can cause addiction. Preliminary research also indicates that hookah smoking may involve "some unique health risks," WHO said. A hookah typically consists of a bowl connected to a vase of water with a long tube and mouthpiece. The tobacco sits inside the bowl with a layer of foil and a hot coal on top. The shisha is not lit, instead heated by the charcoal, which users say produces a vapor different from smoke. "None of the accessories have been demonstrated to reduce smokers' exposure to toxins or risk of tobacco-related disease and death," WHO said. While further research is required, the health body said those exposed to secondhand hookah smoke appeared to be at risk of the same diseases as those exposed to cigarettes. WHO warned that hookah smoke could also increase the risk of adverse effects during pregnancy. -AP
Sounds like reason enough to legalize marijuana.
Is it red or white with kidney?
Netherlands TV contestants could win kidney By ARTHUR MAX AMSTERDAM, Netherlands -- A 37-year-old woman who has an inoperable brain tumor wants to donate a kidney before she dies and will choose the recipient from among three contestants on Dutch national television, a TV network said Tuesday, claiming it wants to highlight a crisis in organ donations. Asked to intervene, the government declined, saying it would be censorship to stop the broadcast, regardless of how distasteful -- and unethical -- it might be. It's unclear if the contestants are a medical match with the terminally ill woman and if the winner would be capable of receiving her kidney. The publicly financed television network, BNN, said it intends to go ahead with the program Friday, drawing attention to the hundreds of people who die each year for lack of a kidney transplant. BNN said it will air the 80-minute show as a single episode. The scheduled broadcast of "The Big Donor Show" reached the floor of Parliament after a member of the governing Christian Democrats, Joop Atsma, questioned whether a public contest for a lifesaving organ would cross the boundary of objectionable to illegal. "The information I have right now tells me that the program is unfitting and unethical, especially due to the competitive element, but it's up to program makers to make their choices," Education Minister Ronald Plasterk responded. Government interference, he said, would amount to censorship. BNN defended the program. "Some people will think it's tasteless, but we think the reality is even more shocking and tasteless: Waiting for an organ is just like playing the lottery," said network Chairman Laurens Drillich. BNN also views the show as a tribute to its founder, Bart de Graaft, who died of kidney failure five years ago despite several transplants. "The Big Donor Show" is produced by Endemol, a TV production company that created the "Big Brother" concept in 1999 and marketed it around the world, setting off the rage of reality TV. The network identified the donor only as "Lisa." During the show, she will hear interviews with the three candidates, their families and friends before choosing who will get her kidney. Viewers will be able to vote for a candidate via text message, but the final determination will be Lisa's, BNN said. Though she intends to donate the kidney while still alive, she would be free to donate other organs after her death under the normal organ-allotment system, said BNN spokeswoman Marieke Saly. But there's no guarantee Lisa's choice will receive the organ. Plasterk said that as with any transplant, the tissues of the donor and the recipient must be compatible. "So it's very possible that in practical terms, we're not talking about anything here, because it's possible this transplant can't take place," he said. Paul Beerkens, director of the Kidney Association, welcomed the attention to the problem of organ donations but called on BNN to cancel the show now that it has gained publicity. "There are about 1,500 people waiting on the list for more than four years, so something has to be done," he said. "But let's be clear: This is not the way." Dutch TV producers have tested the limits of public good taste before. BNN is known for airing other controversial reality-TV shows, including one called "Shooting and Swallowing" illustrating the impact of drug use. -AP, via: The Seattle Times Material from Reuters is included in this report.
Isn't time, really, to stop watching television?
My Mystical Life
Prompted by a misunderstood joke I'd made to my best friend who'd retaliated by indirectly accusing me of repeating past patterns, as well as my oldest friend having sent me an article by Isaac Bonewits -- a man who, like me, had read, perhaps, a great deal more than he should & whom I'd met on more than one occasion many years ago in San Francisco & who reminds me of my own failings -- has led to my thinking about the differences between my past life & this new one in which I find myself.
I was raised, at my dear grandmother's insistence, a good Catholic boy. That's right, your intrepid, wandering fool, was baptized into the Catholic Church. While my memories of this period are primarily of the fact that after catechism I got to spend the whole of the day with my beloved grandmother, I still remember a profound confusion over the whole study & worship of Jesus. He seemed nothing more -- even to my child's mind -- than a conglomeration, a fictionalization, of a number of prophets, so-called, of that period known as "biblical times". I have since, though, realized that while the Church stands behind a male figure, xianity is really worshiping the Mother, the Goddess figure, in their practice.
This realization had been a long time coming. While I bill myself as "the most pagan Zen Buddhist you'll ever meet", I really am referring to something entirely different than these words imply. But this would lead to my explaining the truth behind all mysticism, the Great Secret, & my Zen simply won't allow me to be so arrogant as to assume others either don't know this "secret", or to lead anyone "astray".
When I was approximately ten years old -- having been a lover of rather adult concepts (Shakespeare's tragedies & sonnets being my favourite works in print -- when I found myself fortunate enough to find the school library had an entire, very tall, book case dedicated to the subjects of Satanism, witchcraft & the history of witchcraft. All this year in school, every week, I would check out the maximum number of books one was allowed (I think that number was twenty) from this very book case. I would, in addition to my usual homework, pour over each & every word of these books.
Needless to say -- due to my inquisitiveness -- the next year at school, I'd found that this case had been cleaned of each title I'd previously checked out. Did this deter me? Certainly not. I was hungry for knowledge of things unacceptable, but I did have to satisfy my thirst with titles of a more religious, albeit comparative, nature.
Over the following years & after moving to San Jose California, I'd begun studying books particularly of a more mystical bent. One can only learn so much from the lay texts written about religious practice. It was some years later, in college, that I'd begun -- due to an acute attraction to Asian women -- studying the works of Buddhism. This started with titles claiming to be the words of Gautama Buddha.
I'd continued studying, following the Boddhisattva's paths, into China & the mingling of Buddhism with Taoism, all the way to a more modern approach by the various schools of Zen in Japan. After reading a number of books of the teachings of Japanese Zen Masters, I'd found a book by a Chinese Master who had taught in Japan. This was Master Huang Po. His teachings alone are those which got me to finally sit down & meditate.
Having accepted Huang Po's view of Zen, I still continued studying mysticism & magic. I had read many references to Aleister Crowley, but till acting in a short play written by my oldest friend mentioned above, & needing a set of Tarot cards as a prop, I'd not studied any Crowley. From the minute I'd cracked Crowley's Book of Thoth I was astounded at the clarity & command of English of this writer.
Naturally, whether Crowley really possessed any occult knowledge or not, I have been heavily influenced by his work & Thelemic -- Thelema being the philosophy he'd expounded -- thought, that the aspect of Godhead referred to as the Goddess is what drives me. As evidenced, I have read countless books on all forms of religion & mysticism, both good & bad. Like technical manuals, all too many of these authors had little idea how to actually write, & all too many pretended to possess the knowledge they claimed to possess.
My point is that being influenced by the Goddess, or the feminine form of Godhead, rather forces one to be introspective, as opposed to forcing one's beliefs on others. I am no better than any one -- despite my supposed intelligence.
A few years ago, I had extricated myself from an eight-year relationship with a woman whom I had, for many of the years we were together, loved quite dearly. This relationship had taken each of us in many directions -- in the end, entirely different ones. I had known for some time that I was entering a new life, of sorts. A direction I would never have guessed or previously considered seeking. She too had somewhere to go, but that was not my concern, let alone business.
Like a newborn, I was cast forth into a harsh & unfamiliar world. While I still hold on to some old friendships -- friendships I cherish -- I have met & made connections to some few incredibly fantastic people -- people I will either remember or hold on to, should they allow me to do so, for as long as I can take breath. I am now, I think -- by way of comparison -- in the teen years of my Path to catch up, if you will. A new life of love I've never known, yet still learning & growing. It is all so foreign to me. I only hope these old & new friends can stand me long enough.
And now, after having returned to an old "stomping ground" & found it, like NYC, to not be the city I'd once known -- just as I am no longer who I once was -- I seek to move on. One of the long loved, & one of the new loves in my life & I have been discussing life in a place I had never -- would never in past have -- considered. I have lived in such an environment, the desert, before, & I had grown up not too very far from this new city. The first had lived there before, the latter lives there now. Even my eldest sister, who also had lived there, tells me that this is where I should be.
I feel the Goddess is on the verge, regardless of the present difficulties, of drawing me to my new life. I certainly intend to yield to Her call & take up my new life & self in this place, but ever the doubter, I continue searching within myself for meaning to all life's twists.
Non-Profit? My Ass.
What, exactly, is meant by non-profit? Is a non-profit really any different than any other corporation? Perhaps. But in my experience, these companies are just as concerned with the bottom line to the extent that the people who work for them are nothing more than after thoughts, necessary evils that there really is no distinguishing them from one another.
I also find the ads for street activism rather annoyingly like any other business job ads. They make the job appear to be a fantastic way to meet people, make lots of money, while doing good for your planet, country, etc. But, from a conversation with a few of these "activists" & having read some rants on Craig's List from others, these jobs require one not only one fulfill a quota each day, endure heavy pressure from higher-ups that if they cannot produce, they will be fired, & one can have all this for an actual sub-standard wage.
Of course, you're not supposed to be in it for the money, are you?. But with your non-profit employer contradicting themselves by implying that they're in it for the cause, yet repeatedly proving themselves to be, in reality, so concerned with the money, you have to wonder. Many years ago, I'd read an article showing how much money collected by the Christian Children's Fund was going to upper management salary. Out of every dollar collected, some incredibly huge percentage went toward management salary, while less than a cent went to the children they claim to be "providing for".
Now, in my own experience working for a non-profit organization, we were encouraged to push memberships, as well as sales -- I worked in retail. One of the selling points of these memberships was that it was tax deductible. So, I wonder, who's really paying for these memberships, as well as all the contributions made to that, or any, organization, by the rich? We know that the rich write off anything they can, as the tax laws are written in their favour. In turn, these memberships & contributions are a scam.
Don't you see? The rich -- & anyone purchasing a membership or making a contribution -- write these things off. Then, it is the tax payers who foot the bill for their special events with silly catered foods & an open bar. OK. Fine. I have no great problem with paying less in taxes which inevitably wind up paying a totally unrealistic salary to some moron who talked a good enough game to get into political office, but then these non-profits insult us by requiring we pay for entrance when we'd already done so by paying our taxes -- without all the wondrous write-offs which really only cater to the rich.
Would I be so crass as to suggest we boycott non-profits? Would I go so far as to suggest we band together & protest this abuse? Certainly not. I will suggest that people open their eyes. We're being duped everywhere we turn by marketing people & the wealthy. Naturally, we aren't going to get something for nothing, but why go looking for it if we're just being manipulated? Stop being fooled.
Yet again, I'm left with only one final thing to say:
Question everything.
Quote This!
People have told me that I'm very intelligent all my life. There was a time I would thank people for saying this, as it seemed nice of them to say so. But, sadly, this praise (so called) tends to grate on the nerves. I got over my vast intelligence shortly after I first found myself being totally misunderstood & not knowing how to better explain myself.
Recently, I'd taken a number of IQ tests. This wasn't because I necessarily wanted to know how much smarter I am than others, but rather because of my complete confusion of over other's reactions to things I say. Needless to say, I was shocked & dismayed at what I'd found.
Now, before I reveal these wondrous results of my level of intelligence, let me first point out that I have little trust in IQ tests. I'm certain each one is biased not just in the actual level of one's intelligence, but also based on the bent of the "governing body" in question. Everyone has an agenda. So, as I've pointed out before, question everything.
In addition, while most will tell us that an IQ of 130 is the low-end of genius, the average IQ is approximately 100. I won't cite any of the sources for this, as this is a generous approximation based on a number of sources. The actual numbers appear to be even lower.
I was given an IQ test as a child, but I really don't remember what results I'd got. I've a vague memory of two numbers -- 130 & 151 -- but I seriously don't know if either of these is really in reference to my IQ. But to my delight, or degradation -- you be the judge -- of the tests I'd taken, I now possess an IQ of something between 147 & 153 (one test resulted in a number of 162, but with such a leap of 9 points from the highest of the others, I seriously question this one).
It's also interesting to note that one Web site I'd seen listed a number of European countries average scores as all being below 100. This really makes me wonder about humans as a whole. How is it possible that anyone with an IQ below 100 is even able to survive in this world, let alone, in many cases, thrive, when countless (apparently only 2% of Americans) people with IQ's of 130 or higher continually fall into the pits of financial or emotional disaster?
My point is that intelligence doesn't appear, from my perspective, to be a good thing. Perhaps it's just being intelligent in the US, but I really do think that ignorance must be bliss.
My best friend Trudy -- also possessing a genius-level IQ -- has been living in Rapid City SD for the purpose of obtaining a nursing degree. Now she has this in hand, she's is looking into moving to Reno Nv. We've been discussing how very much we & many of our mutual friends (I know that some of them -- if not many -- also possess high IQ's) are in similar, difficult situations. Trudy & I are considering the possibility of a communal living situation of the like-minded. Sure, I'm still moving to Chile, but Reno's looking better all the time. It may be an artificial sense of community, being surrounded in our house of "sharing" -- not being able to step beyond the property without being surrounded by the typical bull shit of existence -- but it sounds like a very positive experience.
Who among us couldn't use that right about now?
Outlined Life
Ca Napa Valley Tallac St My Only Memory Is the Step Between the Kitchen/Dining room & the Family Room Trower Av My Friend Matt My Neighbour Lori The Countless Cocktail Parties Staying Up Late Watching Night of the Living Dead With My Sisters The Old Couple Down the Street The Creek The Pastures The Napa River The Empty Lots On the Way To the Freeway 7-11 & Watching a Friend Shop-lift The Airport Jonesey's Restaurant The Tuthills Linda Vista The Orchard Growing Corn In Concrete The Massive Yard The Old Couple On One Side The Old Couple On the Other Side & the Girl Who Came To Visit Pam & What Seana Caught Us Doing The Napa Town & Country Fair The Best Damn Fried Chicken In Town Setting Up Cages For the Poultry Show Tearing Up the Grounds On Golf Carts Watching the Adults Get Drunk The Italian Restaurant Where Dad Would Get the Second Best Fried Chicken In Town Cathy Daughter Diane & Her Introducing Me To "Sex To Sexty" The Statians Vicky, & My dirty, dirty thoughts Lake Tahoe The House Which Defines Witchcraft For Me Tahoe Swiss Village Dispelling Misperception With My Brother's Hidden Stash of Porn And Where Are the Girls...? The Perini Estate & The Girl Who Loved Me Mike -- For Some Odd Reason -- Shows Me How He Masturbates The Frosts & Their Abnormal Obsession With Rocks Tahoe Pines The Hobo Camp & What I Found There The Angry Dog & My Power Over Animals Homewood Obexer's Marina PO Box 63 Tahoe City Fanny Bridge It Certainly Is Truckee River Summer Girls In the River A&W Back When A&W Made a ~real~ BBQ Sandwich Lucky The Definition of Large, Impersonal grocers School The Girls Julianna Lori & Her Lovely Sisters My Friend Frank Watching a Fellow Student's Hand Fall Off Secret Agent In the Woods UnAmerican Activities During the Pledge of Allegiance Cal-Neva The Showgirl Who Just Loved Little Boys Emerald Bay Summer Bikinis On the Beach Desolation Valley Idiots Throwing Dead Wood In a Small, Pure Glacial Lake Truckee What Was Once No Place For Tourists Donner Let's Get This Party Started Nv Reno Where I'd Hacked My First 'Puter At Age Ten Under-age Gambling Under-age Drinking Ca again San Jose Miller Av The Aging Japanese Couple Down the Street, & All Their Hentai Kathy -- My First Kiss The Mrs Next Door & Her Plying Me With Plum Wine Shana, Her Mother & Me In the Pool Smokes The Head Shop, & the Clerk Who Taught Me How to roll joints The Chemistry Set, Or How I Blew Up the Back Yard Wizards Lynbrook Theresa, & Her Lovely Push-up Bra Chris & How She & I Had Used the Tennis Courts Susan Sets Me Up With Luana Luana & Her Two Brains Paul Takes Luana Away Terry & Me In Her Bed While Her Little Sister Spied On Us From Outside Chuck Takes Terry Away Cassandra & Our Afternoon At Her Place Michelle & Her Double Jointed-ness Janet In the Classroom -- & Again In the Gym Nanette, My First Foreign Girl Missy -- My Favourite Good Girl Marlena In the Music Practice Room Trang -- My Vietnamese Love Terry, Who Followed Me to Other Cities Missy & Sheryl -- Oh, yeah! Erika -- So Sweet Lori & What Happened To Her Banjo! Sheryl -- My First Japanese Love My First Experience Smoking Through a Bong El Paseo The Disastrous Double Date With Luana West Gate Sneaking Into a Back Room With the Woolworth's Girl Valco Terrorizing the I-Magnan Sales Girls Wearing My Worst Clothes Sunnyvale That Restaurant Where I got a boner which wouldn't go away -- & the Waitresses Who Intentionally Teased Me Or Coos Co The Carnival & the Girl With the Tail Ut SLC Oh, No! Wy Jackson Hole Where's the Hole...? And Can You Believe All Those Antlers? SD Rapid City Punks, & How I Became a God Canada Vancouver Island -- Oh, so green! Vancouver -- I Want To Stay Victoria -- I Want To Stay Here Too Banff -- Wow Calgary -- Odd Edmonton -- Odder Lethbridge -- Never Again Ca Napa Valley My First Bug The Girl Who'd Broken It In With Me Napa High Roberta, & Her Car Where I Broke Her In The Who's Tommy, & the Date Which Went Nowhere Fast Nadine -- A Passing Fancy The School Office Manager & What She Did to Me In the Principal's Office Monica In the Office & In My Car News Paper Delivery The Hot, Blond Daughter of a Co-Worker, & Where Her Panties Wound Up Working At Chevron, the Bosses Daughter, & Where Her Panties Wound Up Marguerite & Her Sweet, Little Moans Big Sur Pagan Rites On The Cliff Across the River Central Valley It's Hot, & It Stinks San Clemente The Hearst's & Patty's Underwear Sneaking Into the Nixon House, Getting Stoned With the Help & Sex on a Former President's Desk Carmel Nepenthe, the Waitress, & the Ghost Sacramento Rally At the Capitol & the Female Journalist Who Did Me in a Stairwell Charmichael Beverly & What Really Happened At Folsom Lake Death Valley Stovepipe Wells? What Wells? The Restaurant & all That Salt Scotty's Castle Will Never Be the Same The Mojave That Girl With the Long, Dark Hair -- Sheer Beauty Tx San Antonio The Girl In the Laundry Wichita Falls That Girl In the Dorms Id Mt Home The Air Force & All Those Horny Wives Boise Garden City -- Garden=Porn The North So Green Nv again Vegas Running From One End of the Airport To the Other Under-age Gambling Or Portland Under-age Drinking At Gay Mary's Portland Museum The Female Security Guard Who'd "Secured" Me In a Utility Closet Ca yet again San Jose Ken Grap's Chevron Ami & Head Larry's Girlfriend, What She Wouldn't Do For Him But Did For Me Cupertino De Anza Anna, My First Polish Foray Lulu -- The Dream Patty -- My Favourite Actress Orli -- I Was Too Late Un -- My First Korean Girl Louise -- Oh, Louise, What We'd Done To the Interior of My Car Tui -- The Wonders of Vietnam Francesca -- My First Italian Girl Il Chicago -- the First Time All Underground Downtown NY NYC Manhattan Winter-Wonder-Manhattan Summer Girls Fashion Washington Heights 181st & Ft Washington Joan, or getting screwed For the First Tim In NYC Joan's Panties All Over the Place Barry's Unleavened Bread & Manipulating Me Into Using His Message Service The Good & Bad Polish Community The Incredible Apartments Meeting Claire & What Joan Will never Know Claire, Asia Society, & the Fun In Her Office Central Park The Museum of Natural History Strawberry Fields & the Gasps As I Passed Sheep's Meadow An Afternoon Make Out With a Girl I'd Never Known & I'll Never Know Again Broadway Colony Music Shops Time's Square Then & Now Columbus Circle & the Relentless Dealers Canal Jeans & the Interview That Went Horribly Wrong People Who Insisted on Continuing Conversations Had With My Double Meditating on the Subway Steps The Strand Books CBGB's & the Girl At the Helen Wheels Show 14th St Ninja Stars & The Perfect Shoulder Bag Upper West Side Star Magic III Kathryn & Her Drunken Mexican Adventure On the Beach Noe & Her Scattered Brain Susie, the Winter Storm, The Tea, & Her Lovely Breasts Vlad Louie The Dakota Yoko's Eyes That Night Seeing Me Long After John Was Gone Some Party Overlooking the Park -- How Did I Get Here, & Where Are My Pants? Gray's Papaya Needle Park -- A Second Panic Alicia & Her Wonderful, Tangled Sweater Upper East Side Everything Yogurt The Owner's Cheating Ways A Dream The Hot Rich Woman Loretta Switt & How Quickly She'd Dumped Her Date For Me Snubbing Regis Philburn Love & the Aspiring Model Jill Sorenson Getting Stoned & Watching Two Guys Make Out In Public After Work The Village East Eighth St Hashish & Making Out With My Polish Girlfriend On Someone's Steps Cooper Square That Damned Cube Street Vendors & Their Wares Cooper Square Books Another Dream The Riviera Girls I'd Had Here St Marks Pl The Girl With Her Hand In My Pants Thompkin's Square Park Making Out & Getting Drunk In Public With My Polish Girlfriend Downtown Beirut Maggie "Have a good" Conversations Concerning Warsaw Student Riots Skinheads TJ & How He Backed Down TJ's Girlfriend & That Night In My Apartment Susan -- the Hunger Kris, the Scum Goddess Bernie, Oh, Bernie Tenash & Her Little Spider Bailey -- Another Cutie Timmie, So Sweet The Girl Who'd Felt Me Up At the Bar Liam "I Don't Mess With No Powders" B Brian & Rudia Working for Anna, the Owner Anna's Daughters & the One Who Made My Night Being Taken For Any Number of Celebrities & Being Incognito The Story of Not Picking Up Women For a Year Julian Lennon, Hughie Lewis, & Me The Village Idiot The Night We Set Mongo Up With a Cross-Dressing Heroin Addict Busted In a Doorway, & the Cop Who Said OK The Wha-Wha Hut The Pyramid Club Transvestites, & the Girl Who Somehow Got Me On the Dance Floor Vasak's (7-B) How the Crowd Continues To Change Why So Few Girls? The Dugout Seventy-Five Cent Beers Geno Tries To Take My Polish Girlfriend From Me The Photographic Evidence The Bartender Took Nightingales (12th St) & the Hookers Who Wanted Me A Great Polish Restaurant A Little More Maggie Maggie Moves In Maggie's Tight, Blue Shorts Maggie's boyfriend & His Stupid Socks Tripe Soup K&K Even More Maggie The Ditching My Polish Girlfriend The Best Anet Chicken, Garlic Soup, & Sleeping Naked In Her Bed What Might Have Been Teresa's Really Good Meals An Expensive Polish Restaurant Anet's Room-Mate Vaselka My Polish Girlfriend's Room-Mate Pierogi Only Hiro's The Girl In Grey With Rings That Sing Enchantments How I Got Chased Out For Not Being "White" Enough Little Theater on St Marks Pl Feet On the Stage The Two Middle-Eastern Places Best Damn Fallafals In Town How To Crash Art Openings 101 With My Polish Girlfriend Alphabet City Tripping While Wandering, Pretending To Hear the Girl's Story, & Following a Very Large Rat West Washington Square Park More Relentless Dealers An Opiated Afternoon With My Polish Girlfriend & the Waiting Cops Bucket of Blood After-Hours & the Sawdust In Her Crack Sixth Av All That Porn & the Persistent Homeless Eighth St Play House Dim Sum & the Acidic Walk Across Town to Beirut The Blue Note Laughing At the Musician Who'd Tried to Pick Up My Polish Girlfreind China Town A Sea of Heads Weiser's Books Occult Books & Prison Inmates Star Magic II April The One Who Never Was Liz's Party Where April Tried To Take Me From Anet Liz Little Girl Rock Lauren "You have a pancake on your head" Geno The uncontrollable Dottie Too Sweet To Leave Her Waste of A Boyfriend Glitter Rock Dave Dominique Brooke The First Time Queens Astoria The Greeks Have Fled The Apartment The Bloody Heap On the Sofa Which Turned Out To Be David The Mother Upstairs, & Her Horny Friend Punks In the Street Woodstock Love in a Humid, Rainy Meadow, & My Throbbing Boner With My Polish Girlfriend's Head In My Lap On the Bus Ride Home England London My Barmaid My Favourite Irish Hooker Ca San Jose 7-11 The NY Girl Who Wanted Me But Wouldn't Have Me San Francisco Touchstone Kim, & the Never-Ending Boner Sketching Out Occult Symbols For Some Incredible Jewelry The Strippers & All Their Money Working The Summer of Love Celebration In the Park & Making Out With Susie's Friend Sarah The Panhandle & All Those Drugs Haight St The Neo-Hippie Waste Land Trudy, My Longest Love Lisa L -- The Most Beautiful Redheaded, Green Eyed Witch NYC Washington Heights The Wonderful Jewish Community & The First Jewish Girl to Flirt With Me The Good & Bad Polish Community -- Again Being Taken For a Cop Walking on Broadway After Midnight Hanka Why? Central Park The Museum of Natural History How I Sold Egg-shaped Rocks By Explaining Their Use in Ancient China To a Mother & Her Son Time's Square Then & Now The Incredulous Tenth Av Hookers Broadway People Who Insisted on Continuing Conversations Had With My Double Years After the Fact Canal St Rose's & the Beautiful Mexican Girl In the Bathroom Upper West Side The Hotel Where I'd Worked & Was Snubbed By Cheap Trick Midtown That Incredible Job Specialist Who Kept Repeating That She Just Couldn't Help Herself The Village East Mona's Smaller Than Beirut, But Very Similar That Cute Girl I Only Remember As Warm Esoterica Nag Champa West Peculier Pub Lynda -- Oh, Lynda! Another Maggie & Her Tight, black Shorts Shelly -- Oh, How I'd Wished Brooke -- Again Karla & What We Did In Her Messy Apartment Kim -- Self Destruction & the Night That Didn't Happen The Concrete Garden on University Pl Public Fondling With My Polish Girlfriend Boxer's & More Karla The Slaughtered Lamb & Even More Karla China Town The Same Sea of Heads Soho Buffy's More Brian, No Rudia, but the Inspiration for Athena Platypus My Manager's Ineptitude Sweet, Little Celee Jess The Guy Who Just Wouldn't Work Queens Astoria Walkins Cafe & the Relentless, Drunk Blond LIC Christie's Obliqui, Getting High, & Getting Touched In the Work Place Melissa & Her Disappointment Josie -- Why'd You Go & Get Married? Skyline Credit Ride Very -- Oh, Cara Mia! BAV, You're the Sweetest Sharon, Why'd You Bring Colour Into This? Dorothy -- If Only Rina, & Her Cross-dressing Boyfriend Anna Faye Lauren Bacall "Angus! The only One With Any Brains." Stagecoach My Puerto Rican Partner & What Happened To Your Tight Red Dress Jackie & Cindy -- the Odd Couple Broken Candy Brooklyn Crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, & the Suicide's Conversation Ft Greene Room-Mates & Getting Screwed a Second Time Doing Mushrooms With David & Obliqui -- "Where's My Gun?" The Next Morning In Bed With Obliqui More Obliqui, Getting High, & Getting Laid I'm That Crazy White Guy Who Carries a Gun -- & Will Use It. Or So They Say Standing Up For My Deli Meat Rights Even More Obliqui, The church, the Alter, & Running From the Cops The Empress Brooklyn Heights The Mall The Riverfront Arts & Crafts Weekend With Obliqui Yet More Obliqui, Getting It All Over Her Apartment Buffalo More Jackie & Cindy Unnecessary Drama More Candy Candy & Her Cousin Candy & Her Friend Karen Candy & Her Cute Little Dress In My Apartment -- Oh, How She'd Tried Septara -- I'd Still Like To -- Over & Over UCA&L Ack -- What Happened To Seattle & What Happened to Your Teeth? Kath -- What Happened To You? Kel & the Night We Didn't Couldn't Connect BuffNet The Hot Blond How We'd Flirted The Blond & One Of the Owners The Blond & the Waste Who'd Become My Supervisor The Waste Who'd Become My Supervisor The Waste Who'd Become My Supervisor & the Ugly Customer Service Rep The Waste Who'd Become My Supervisor -- Am I Bitter? The State Attorney, Election Year, the Case Against Internet Porn, & Me -- Right In the Middle of It Canada Toronto -- Could This Be Home? Il Chicago The Horned Tower Wa Seattle SeaNet Working for the Russian Mob Cell Tech Working for the Man The Crypt Porn Sucks Seattle Art Museum Then & Now Hi Hilo The Hotel, & My Lovely Receptionist The Hilo Hostel -- or is that "Hostile"? The drunken, sloppy guitarist who lost it all to drugs That little restaurant & What Happened When the Owner's Husband Was Away Mary's Dress Accidently Falls To the Floor -- oops! Kailua-Kona The Hostel & American's Misinterpretations of Local's Attitude I thought Hilo was too spread out! Steve & Lucie's Apartments The Going Rate Lucie's Too Sweet For This Painting for a few bucks With the Wrong Materials & Being Fired For a Lousy Job More Mary Her Step-Father's House, Breaking the Bed, Skinny Dipping, & Later Cleaning the Pool The Lava Flows & How Much More Energy This Old Man Has Than This Twenty-Something The Lava Tube & How Mary & I'd Frightened the Tourists Kimo, Building a Web Site & Getting Screwed Out of Money Denny's Food Prep's Not For Me Several Girls Who Wouldn't Have Me Safeway Unions, Oi! The Sweet & Self-Medicated Redhead My Favourite Supervisor's Insatiable Need KTA Falling In Love With a Married Japanese Girl Sack-N-Save Cheap Fried Chicken, Mashed Potatoes & Turkey Gravy The Checker Who Dragged Me Behind the Store Ca Santa Cruz Mary -- Again Lalainia, & You Still Can't Leave Him? Fairfield Hot & Cold Why Are All the Females Either Married Or Too Young?
More Hit & Run
Sanjaya who?
It appears that poor University of Washington
is at a loss for a decent commencement speaker this year. As Bill Gates & Bill Clinton (the
latter, fine -- the former?) are booked elsewhere, UW has turned to some momentary pop icon
from a show few readers can stand for more than a minute, American Idol, named
Sanjaya.
So, you get a flash singer to give a speech. She's a singer, & you decide she can manage to motivate students to study hard. Interesting.
USYT
Ignore that the US military is running videos on
YouTube -- no doubt it's more for recruiting, than anything else. What interests me is the
quote from Brent Walker, one of two mentioned in the article in the Seattle Times from Thursday, a US military Web master &
former marine:
"I think these clips humanize the war for a lot of
people who only see statistics."
Really? Do people think humans aren't involved in war unless they see it on TV or YouTube? OK.
Kiddie porn
This is just too stupid:
"Children in Middletown NJ got more than they bargained for when they tuned into "Handy Manny" "Children in Middletown NJ got more than they bargained for when they tuned into "Handy Manny" on the Disney Channel this week: Hardcore pornography. Cable giant Comcast is investigating how the porn was broadcast during the popular cartoon, which is about a bilingual handyman, Manny Garcia, and his talking tools. Comcast spokesman Fred DeAndrea described it as an "isolated issue in a local New Jersey facility".
Well, that explains everything satisfactorily. But I'm confused what Manny's "tools" have to say, & how realistic it is that he has more than one tool...?
No toilet paper for you It's a well known fact that vandals, graffiti artists & drug
users never go anywhere they can's wipe their asses on the city's dime. I'm sure many tax
dollars were wasted on numerous studies proving this to be the case. Suicidal tendencies Who'da thought that antidepressants could possibly depress
anyone? Leaded bibs?! Why-why-why would lead be in baby bibs...? You're no fun any more I'm on a nostalgia kick again. Me? Sure. I'm remembering a time
-- &, perhaps a place -- when a man could compliment a woman's dress or look in a very simple
manner, & it would either be accepted or politely rejected for what it is -- a simple
compliment. But, apparently, today, a simple compliment -- void of any seething intent -- is
perceived as a sexually potent & lurid remark. Yes. I have now graduated from the woman
repellent, to the creepy old man. A statement to any woman under, perhaps, thirty to the effect
of, "Hey, I like your dress" or "That's a nice skirt", has become intimidating. Somehow, women
now expect such statements to be followed by a regimen of stalking resulting in some rape
scene. For the record, I have never wondered how a woman would look from the bushes outside
her home. Of course, if any woman whom I'd complimented found me even
remotely attractive -- guess what? I wouldn't be a threat, I'd be considered possible bed
fodder or even -- if I had money & was generous -- a possible boy friend. One cannot even so
much as scan a room & meet the eyes of a woman scanning the same room without being judged
abusive. I'm sure that any woman who has judged me such would deny these
statements. I'm sure their ill perceived judgment of me would become more surreal simply
because I accuse them of thinking entirely too highly of themselves & being conditioned either
by breakfast cereal commercials or made-for-tv movies. But I hardly think my reaction to their
reactionary minds bad powers of observation -- I've a rather strong ability to see beyond the
surface. I also know that I'm generalizing. There are certainly women in
their twenties & later who know better. Sadly, I know a very small number of them -- & I
expect that number to continue to diminish.
Apart from the fact I have never so much as
expected, let alone forced anything of a woman -- "no" had meant
"no" long before television told us so, & I had even made it conscious a point of respect
before I'd ever had the opportunity to get to know a girl (when I was but a boy) slightly --
not even intimately -- to do only as they made clear I could. Sex, as wonderful
as it can be, may be on my mind, but isn't something I've ever expected.
Frankly, frequently in my life, I find sex so silly it's practically pointless. So, have your sugar-coated lives; find your princes (or
goth-punk-wanna-be-artist) & live your passionless, humourless, surface lives. Obscurity calls
to me, the freedom to be & think & dream -- with or without the physicality sex -- grows ever
more appealing to me than the phony life we must live now. Misanthropy is the result of even a dolt who stops to think
about it. A day in the right A few years ago I was walking toward my Brooklyn apartment on
Ashland Place from Flatbush Avenue one night. As I neared the intersection of Ashland &
Fulton, near my apartment, I noticed that there were far more people not only in the
neighbourhood than usual, but far more than would be on Ashland at that time of night. An
elderly couple passed me & of their conversation I'd registered something to the effect of
"...rats of great size" was mentioned. Then a man passed & told me to watch out for the rats.
Though rats weren't uncommon, it was odd that someone would tell me to watch out for them, but
I wasn't really paying much attention. Then I saw them. But instead of "rats of great size", what I saw
were two large rabbits -- the size of sheep. One gave me the impression I should climb on it's
back. Doing so, I rode past the shocked crowds toward my apartment. Next morning, I'm bilking some tourists out of some cash in one
of the best parts of Brooklyn when a man, an enemy, as I recall, crouched & leveled an
automatic weapon at me. He fires. Instinctively, I attempt to elude the bullets -- to no
avail. I see them, four, for only an instant before they hit, spiraling toward me. The impact was not terribly hard, but certainly noticeable, as
the bullets entered my right side: first, just above my hip; the second, third & fourth, in a
relatively straight line downward, just left of my femur. I lose consciousness. Later, after regaining consciousness, I look down to where the
dull pain comes from to find little blood. One of my tourists of three or four offhandedly
suggests we go to a hospital. I don't argue. This, naturally, takes time. But the shooter, also, is still
after us. When we finally arrive at hospital, I am ushered to a room. I now notice the
bleeding has stopped. The upper most bullet, the doctor tells me, has hit no important
organs -- good -- & those below had fallen into muscle -- not even nicking the femur. I'm
overjoyed, as I have to get to another job, & the commute is murder. This job was at Ken Grap's Chevron station in San Jose
California with a man I'd worked at Joe Cetwinski's Chevron in Napa California. Ken was not
there this evening, & I knew he was soon to go out of business. After taking money from a self-serve customer, I walked to what
is the north end of the s-s island of Ken's now demolished station on Moorpark Avenue to get
the customer's change. I looked up in the sky as, it had become quite dark, & told the other
employee working with me that he should turn on the lights. At this point, I saw a ball of
stars circled by a ring of other stars; they looked like Saturn. It began first to revolve,
then to move about as would a UFO. I asked my partner if he was seeing this, & he said he was.
Each of us were fascinated by this sight. I looked back into the sky to see this "planet" of stars
continue to move toward, away & back & forth through space. Then it stopped, the ring
disappeared & the "planet" began to spew stars from one point on it's surface near its
equator. Suddenly, the whole sky changed from a few stars & planets to all sorts of stars &
planets, with one addition: There were now numerous video game aliens & space ships filling my
entire vision. Later, I was working yet another job. This one in a very strange
hamburger place which appeared to be Everything Yogurt on Third Avenue near East 57th Street
in NYC. The manager had me work about ten minutes at each station & there were a lot of
strange things going on there that I cannot describe. One part I can remember clearly, came later. I looked up from
where I was behind the stove to see the manager grimacing over what he called a worm crawling
on the wall. Everyone in the room was franticly waving their arms & yelling things to the
effect of killing it, but I walked over saying that it is a living thing, & that I would take
care of it. It turned out to be a green caterpillar. The manager said
something vaguely encouraging, & I removed the caterpillar from the wall. After another
strange sequence in the rear hallway, I finally got it outside where it had a much better
chance of survival. As I came back inside, I decided to wash my hands -- a very
uncommon act in a restaurant at that time in NYC. I stepped into the room marked "Co-operation
Restroom". I had been in one of these twice before. As I stepped through the door, I was immediately engulfed by
very thickly placed, alternating black & clear, strips of plastic hanging from the ceiling.
These strips moved me round, & I could hear the hiss of an air conditioner & feel cool air
moving round me through the strips. I swayed back & forth for some time without finding the door to
the restroom. Soon I heard what sounded like voices either very far away or nearby &
whispering. I mumbled, "May I have some co-operation, please?" At this point, I looked down at
the floor knowing the I should look up to see where all of the strips go. But, looking down, I
finally saw a pair of feet & calves, & as I looked up, the strips had completely disappeared,
& before me was a very pregnant woman in a rust coloured pant suit uniform. She asked, "Yes?," putting her arm round & behind my head,
pushed me backward slightly so as to sit me on the arm of a sofa, & she sat on my
lap. I asked her where the restroom is, & she pointed it out asking
why I hadn't found it on my own. She then asked if I had seen the woman on the phone & pointed
to my left. I replied that I hadn't seen anything but the strips. To which she said, "Oh, if
you had stood at the door & looked before coming in, you'd have seen her." I soon returned to my hovel in Brooklyn. Oh, no! Not again. It's been some years since I've written poetry. Poetry, like my
fiction, only comes when I find the inspiration. But the inspiration to write poetry only
comes when I meet a woman with an exceptional quality of attraction, or, simply, with
exceptional qualities. Yet, as I suspect for most all poets, any inevitable -- or
possible liaison I've ever known with such women always leads to
disaster. It is not that these women are bad, or that they are all users,
abusers of the hearts of sensitive men. No, some of them were wonderful. And I'd not even had
sex with all of them. So, we can't say that these women were at fault, if there
is fault, for the misery, albeit exquisite, I've experienced. But I'm in an odd state these days. Now in my forties, I feel as
if I've begin life over since getting out of my last long-term relationship. I feel, in very
short order, I'm passing through a new life, or through life all over again. Through
circumstance, I'd gone through a period of living with mom, I'd lost my "virginity" to a
sweet, though spoiled, twenty-something girl, & I've been going through the mill of difficulty
finding work & mediocre jobs. But, to be fair, I have recently found a really good
one. More importantly -- this time round -- I'm experiencing emotions
either I've never known, or, of those I had known in the past, to a much greater degree.
They're beginning to come to the surface far more frequently than I've ever known. So, I'm
meeting new people. Unlike my past life, these people are really fantastic. I'd felt I was in
an intellectual wasteland all those years, only rarely meeting any people of quality with
intelligence &/or talent. Recently, through my best friend, as mentioned in my previous
entry, I've met a couple of really fantastically intelligent & artistic women. They would once
have been veritable oases in the wasteland I point out above, but are now, coming to my notice
more. I could certainly find some level of happiness should either of these two women
seriously condescend to involve themselves with me on more levels -- one of whom has
repeatedly asked me to marry her. Yeah! Me. I find it difficult to think her serious, of
course -- what she would want with the likes of this stumbling twit, I can't possibly fathom.
But the point is that -- despite my worthless view of myself -- there's apparently
something about me that's attractive to others. Why, even yesterday I'd met & flirted with another really sweet,
& beautiful twenty-something from NYC. Her body language & words implied that she wasn't
repelled by this old fart flirting with her -- she'd even lent a hand when I'd continually
fumble over words to keep her from running away pulling her hair in despair. I doubt I'll ever
see her again, but it could be nice. This brings me back to my composing poetry. Few women in my life
have ever had the power to act as muse. I've tried with many women. Unless I really feel that
inspiration, the words are painfully strained & the verses mediocre at best. But I am now in
contact with a new muse. She is beautiful -- naturally; she is capable -- as one would hope;
she is sweet & kind; she is Beauty in all Her forms...you see, I'm thinking of her now in
terms of poetry. It doesn't help that she is of a heritage, possibly first
generation American, of which I have been desirous of pursuing that life-long embrace for long
& painful years as well. It doesn't help that she speaks Spanish & thinks my plan to move to
Chile is "...So cool". Why does this not help? Because, as I've known all too many times, I
firmly believe this, will lead only to a fit of despair greater than I've ever known of
unrequited love. Yes, she too is a twenty-something. I don't necessarily believe
that twenty-somethings are my downfall any more than I feel she or any other woman could love
me longer than it takes to become aware of my darkest demons & acute paranoia. Don't all
initial attractive qualities in another become the bane of one's existence at some
point? I know no solution. One -- artists in particular -- cannot turn
emotions on & off at will. Perhaps she will bring me to a new phase of material. This is
likely the most likely result of my having been brought into contact with her, as I can't
believe even the possibility she could feel any attraction to me. I will have to content
myself with how beautiful she is & how much I want her when she reacts with such embarrassment
over my flirtations & compliments. Why am I forever doomed to the lack of attainment of such? Why
am I forever thrust forth into desire which I cannot have? And why must there be so many years
between this perfect expression of the Goddess & myself? One would think that no matter how pagan this Zen Buddhist is, I
could learn not to be so very effected by things I know intellectually can simply never be.
Now, where did I leave my Asana? Anyone seen it? I remember leaving it right "here" not long
ago.... Experiencing the sacttertude So, "scattertude" isn't a word. More, it hasn't anything to do
with what I'm on about today either. It just came to me while thinking about my past & how --
maybe because I'm such an old man now -- the changes in my personality & desires
in life continue to insinuate themselves. I was listening to KEXP, as I usually do in the morning...to be honest, I don't listen
to any other station here in Seattle. The others suck. Really. In any case, a song I've never heard by Beck, Bogus
Flow, on the DGC Rarities release, came on. It reminded me a great deal of Dylan. I
liked it. But one of the lines sounded a bit (though I knew it wasn't) like it ended with this
non-word. Hence, the title. I really don't understand my feelings. There was a time when I
couldn't care less what others thought of me or if anyone meant anything to me. I'm sure I'd
hurt some, though there was no intent in doing so. It just didn't matter. I could sail from
one friendship or love to another rather easily. I'm not saying that I didn't pine for women.
Unrequited love has come my way many times. I also can't say that I didn't experience pain at
not being "wanted", or for the end of relationships. I was much more interested, though, in
the journey & the next step. These days, I find myself actually desiring all types of love.
Oh, my mind certainly rebels at such a thought. It seems almost repugnant to think I -- the
Misanthrope, the Blasphemer, the hater of all sentiment -- could possibly want real friendship
& love. But as honesty has so long meant more to me than fleeting human emotions, I have to be
honest with myself as well. It pains me to do so. Particularly of late, my friendship with one person has opened
my eyes. We'd met many, many years ago in San Francisco. Never had I thought would any former
lover become such an important part of me. More, she's not just shown me how to love others
simply for what & who they are, she's brought me into her circle. I'm now meeting some of her
friends. While the great fortune I feel knowing this woman brings me a
happiness I've never known, I feel that fortune doubled by having met & corresponding with two
of her friends who live in Nevada. Each is painfully intelligent & challenging, as well as
being incredibly talented. I consider their entering my life gifts, for which I am thankful to
she who'd brought them into my life, as well as each of these two unique women in the deserts
of Nevada. Of course, I've no idea if our friendships will -- or
can grow. I doubt I take any great part in their thoughts -- I've never had
that great an ego. But I feel good about each of them now. I certainly hope
we're able to sustain & grow, but that lies in the unknowable. These three women are friends
right now, & now is all any of us has. Anyway, all rambling aside, I haven't the mental aptitude to
really understand any of this. I know only that I feel richer for knowing these women -- one
of whom I think I could.... I'll leave that. Never know, any one of them might read this &
think me the greatest loser they've ever met. I've said it before: I'm no great catch. But we
wouldn't want to blow any possibility before it manifested, would we? Damn. Yet another blog entry leading nowhere. And people keep
telling me that I'm a good writer. I just don't get it. Hey, can someone help me out here? I used to have something of
an edge.... Yankee go home Today was the anniversary of the removal of Saddam Hussein from
Iraq. In a news story -- I'm actually very surprized to see -- the news media had actually
aired negative views of Iraqis concerning the US occupation. But how did it end? Not with
anything remotely resembling the real reason we're there. Nothing about the
real numbers of civilian deaths due to this war. Nothing about the
real suffering of the citizens due to our still being there. The ended the story with a quote from baby Bush. Well, it makes
sense that they, as reporters, would want a statement from Bush, isn't it? Forget that they
rarely bother to research stories which might contradict the agenda of their owner. They
really did act as reporters in asking Bush about this. Oh, what did Bush say in response?
This: "If Saddam Hussein were still in power, a protest like this
would not have been possible". Uh-huh. Now, I'm no history buff, but wasn't it your daddy who
put him in power to begin with...? Light up, or leave me alone Have you seen the anti-smoking spot on television with the
plucked, headless turkey? These are so hilarious that I can't imagine any smoker feeling any
desire to quit because of them. This headless turkey (I suppose nick-named Cold Turkey), is,
perhaps, a greater advertising icon than Joe Camel had been in the past, or even of the
Marlboro Man during his run. But the anti-smoking coalition's accident aside, I'd like to
point out something which isn't getting much coverage about this. That's the parallels between
today's anti-smoking campaign & that of the Nazi Party's propaganda of the 1930's. That's right. Hitler had run an anti-smoking campaign as well.
Apparently, just as now, people then were all too willing to accept the supposed authority of
someone holding credentials. But, as I'd heard yesterday from a friend of a friend, only half
of a graduating class of doctors got high marks...or words to that effect. The other half
barely got their paper. More, the Nazi's "experts" were clearly more in sympathy with the
movement than they were with their actual findings. I suspect the same goes for our
"experts" today. It comes down to the fact that just as in the past, we are
relying on questionable authority. But do we actually question these authorities? Of course
not. We're not "experts" in the field, so what do we know? And that's the point: What do we
know? If we can only claim knowledge of a second or third-hand nature -- knowledge we don't
bother to verify -- how can we claim any knowledge at all? Yet most people just accept what they're told without the
slightest thought. Remember what happened with cholesterol & eggs not too many years ago?
These supposed authorities claimed that in their findings, eggs were, essentially, evil &
killing us all. Some years later, these experts decided that, wait! There is good cholesterol
& bad cholesterol. The egg industry, I'm sure, is still trying to recover from the destructive
effects of these so-called experts. I'm a smoker. I also eat fatty meats, drink whole milk, & I
occasionally drink alcohol. Oh, my! I must be evil. But because I was endowed with a brain --
& I know how to use it -- I've found authorities very questionable from my earliest memories.
Time & again, I've been told things which were not backed up -- & when questioned, I was told
only that I should be quiet & listen. Well, I have listened. For years. These days, I can no
longer just be quiet. When I was a teen, my eldest sister was studying to become a
nurse. Whenever she'd visit, I'd always look through her nursing manuals. They were filled
with pictures of the results of all sorts of ailments. Of course, I'm sure each of the victims
in these manuals were likely in very advanced stages of whatever illness, & not one suggested
any other contributing factor to these results. It was all presented as black & white. Round
the same time, my mother was using the prevailing anti-smoking propaganda of scare tactics in
her attempt to quit. She would bring home all sorts of brochures & booklets with pictures of
lungs, throats, mouths, hearts, arteries, etc in advanced stages of cancer. All the time I was
looking through this horror material, I kept wondering if maybe there had been more involved
than smoking -- or if these pictures really were body parts with cancer -- from
smoking. Of course, no authority would ever manipulate the facts to
suit their agenda. That would never happen. This begs many questions: What about the crap in our food &
drink? What about the crap in the air? What about the radio activity & countless synthesized
chemicals in the environment? Are we attacking something which may not be the actual evil
because it's relatively easy? Sure, while the Nazi's didn't have the same environmental issues
to worry about, they did have a greater agenda which is what I'd said in a previous entry
about distractions. But let's not get on that today. I'm simply saying that our authorities have other issues --
sometimes more psychological than otherwise -- which are far more important. Oh, but if we
find someone to discriminate against, we not only provide the necessary distraction, but we
are given, like children, something to do so our authorities can do as they please. I'd like to wake up now. Have I missed something? The term volunteer implies that there is no money
involved -- from either the volunteer or the entity to which one volunteers...right? So, how
is it I keep seeing references to volunteering in which the volunteer has to pay a sum of
money to volunteer their services? Did someone forget to look up the definition? Some years ago, I'd also wondered about ads I'd see in the
classifieds of news papers in which internships were becoming paid positions. There was a time
when an internship meant one had the right to be in intimate contact with a company's policies
& procedures with the compensation being the knowledge one could learn, like a mentor-ship
program. But now, most intern positions are paid. So, in one area, the tables have turned. Naturally, the rich are
those who reap the greatest reward -- particularly in bringing on volunteers who are willing
to put up their own money to work for a company. And I'm sure those selfish bastards who'd
come up with this idea feel fully justified in this. Why, it's a sound business practice,
isn't it? Suck the very blood from an employee -- or client -- & give them as little as
possible. Only, in this case, the company is simply reaping the benefits of some sucker
working
for them & handing out absolutely no compensation. This reminds me of working in customer service in which the
company gets occasional calls from foreign language speakers. The potential income a company
can make from a sale to a foreign customer is, of course, directly related to how much they're
willing to pay a bi- or multi-lingual employee for the benefit. But does the compensation ever
come close to any idea of benefit the company receives? Of course not. I have some talent with languages. I'm fluent only in English,
but have been able to communicate in a fairly large number of other languages. In more naive
times, I used to speak in the native language of customers because it was easier to do this
than to repeatedly ask them to clarify what they wanted in English. But was I offered even the
differential pay of twenty-five cents per hour often extended to employees able
to speak another language? No. In each company where I'd done this, I would -- at some point --
ask about receiving such pay to be flatly denied. But I wasn't given any option. I was told
that I had to continue to speak to foreign customers in their own language, if I was able to
communicate in whichever language, without compensation. I caught on pretty quickly & stopped talking to customers in any
language but English. Is it any wonder I have no respect for the rich when they
blatantly treat me with such disdain? Is it any wonder I'm so unwilling to offer any
extras when I receive none in return? I say, let them kiss my ass. I'm done kissing theirs. There can be only one We've heard this before. But no one wants to pay attention. In
the US the top economic one percent hold more wealth than all the the other ninety-nine
percent combined. How is this possible? How could such a thing happen? That one percent,
enjoying that which we've all been hoodwinked into believing about life in America -- a
comfortable life -- are directly responsible for, likely, every ill which has befallen the
rest of us living here. Naturally, the news media only tell us what the power elite want
us to know, but think about it. Why would so many news agencies go to such lengths to tell us
that, say, unemployment in this country is low, when the truth goes farther than that. One
example of this is that many who had been laid off have not had the opportunity to return to
the field for which they'd trained & are working in another field -- making much less money --
because their unemployment benefits had run out. Another example is a story which never runs in relation to the
employment situation. Sure, there are stories on the news which concern homelessness, but do
they ever tell us just how many people are homeless? Do they ever tell us that there are more
homeless people due to their inability to get jobs which pay enough for them to pay their debt
as well as keep a roof over their heads, let alone eat on a regular basis? No. And it's unlikely, so long as those who have brought us,
like a drug fiend in need of a fix, to need such things as the painfully slow,
pointless, funny only to a few, gew-gaws of the Web -- I miss GopherSpace & ftp sites. How
about the saturation marketing we're assaulted with everywhere? I listen to what is referred
to as a non-commercial radio station KEXP which runs -- though,
admittedly, infrequently -- commercials. Yeah, commercials. They call them something else,
but they're still ads for rather expensive toys & properties by rich people who are only
seeking to get richer. Not once have they run a free ad from a small business
owner. Again, I ask, why do we need all these toys? Why do we need the
newest, most wonderful piece of crap which is no better than the previous one -- only looks
more slick? Who the hell are we trying to impress? Those getting richer don't give a damn
about us -- they just want our money. So they repackage their crap & call it new or
innovative. They brainwash us from an early age to believe their claims. They have turned us
all into consumer clones who can't live without the shiny non-necessities of today. But I was talking about the top one percent, wasn't I? Those who
have the beautiful life which we must not only believe we actually want, but that we can,
through hard work, really attain. They have taken the American Dream -- which, like our
constitution, was very different when this country began -- & twisted it into an absolute
myth. They use gambling, call it a lottery, & make us all believe we can win & suddenly have
the good life they enjoy by our hard work & hard-earned money every single day
of their lives. The only way out -- should any have the power to see through the
lies -- is to physically get out. True, the country I'm intending to move to,
Chile, has a huge gap between rich & poor. Sure, as here, people there are brainwashed into
believing that this new toy or that new home will bring them a sense of contentedness &
self-worth. But that's just the country which appears to suit me. There are
numerous countries, called "third world", which aren't dirt poor or under the thumbs of
dictators. Countries with far richer cultures than here. Places where we might really find
that contented bliss. We could stay & fight, just as many wish to do with the
government. But I'm growing older. I've seen numerous administrations. As each leaves, another
set of equally corrupt -- & rich -- politicians come to take their place. There's no end to
it. And changing one's circumstances won't automatically mean that one will find a government
which isn't corrupt. But we can stop the madness in respect to finding a government, the
wealthy, & the blindest of marketing people we can, gratefully, ignore.
Just be sure to turn out the lights before you go -- we don't
want the new tenants to have to pay the wealthy power companies for the electricity we'd
wasted. Hit & Run More on embarrassing side effects I've mentioned this before, but another commercial really makes
me wonder. Is it really better to take any number of different drugs for some minor ailment
which cause more side effects than the actual problem? And why do these drugs effects, more
often than not, have to cause not just problems, but embarrassing problems? Dittos daze I'd recently felt nostalgic. OK. I'm nostalgic about a lot of
things lately. But I was thinking about the wonderful way Dittos Jeans fit women. Well, I
mostly saw them on high school girls, as I was a high school boy at the time they were
popular. In any case, I just found this short interview: (published without the slightest
attempt to gain permission from Any chance that roullout might happen...? Did I miss it? Maybe
do it again before I leave the country? Newsworthy? Let me decide. There is rioting in the streets of Santiago Chile, but do the
news media tell us anything about it? I watch both the local & world news every evening, but
there's been nothing about ~anything~ happening anywhere but in Iraq. Oh, except for all the
touching stories happening here. Nothing important is happening anywhere but with out own
government & the war. I don't subscribe to any news papers just now, so I search the
Web. The Seattle Times has only one article concerning Santiago dated October 2006. Gee, you'd
think something must happened there more recently than that. But I look on GoogleNews & find
that the Associated Press isn't, as our local media would have us believe, oblivious to unrest
in other parts of the world. Here: Why do I have to turn to the Web to learn this -- despite AP
hadn't actually learned why these students are rioting? The Canadian Press gives us a little more in an article which
appears to be a more fleshed out version of the AP release above. They make a connection to
the significance of the date: I'm not so sure that these, which occurred a little over twenty &
thirty years ago are more than a symbolic connection. Is it just me? I've studied journalism -- I even hold a
certificate from an unknown (& likely gone) school of journalism -- & I know that
investigation requires a bit more than this. Why the AP -- long a highly respected news source
-- & all news media can't be bothered to tell us more than the struggle a home owner has in
our region has experienced in attempting to retrieve a cat from a tree, or these glossings of
real, news worthy events just boggles my mind. Where are the journalists of the past? Where is the investigative
integrity? Where is the news? Please hold for an important message. How many times have you heard this coming from your answering
machine? If you're like me, you have a land-line & prefer to screen calls. This, of course,
requires one of the most incredible pieces of technology ever created: The answering machine.
No having to dial a number to get any messages, no need for caller-ID, no having to actually
miss calls, as you (an adult) have the option of picking up the receiver & talking to the
caller after determining who they are. That is, if the caller actually attempts to leave a
message. I'd Googled this phrase to find that this message, or system,
can cost a marketer from $59.00 to, at least, $350.00. Naturally, this can only work for a
marketer if the person receiving the call is sheep-ish enough to actually sit there waiting
for some bastard tele-marketer to condescend to them. What marketing genius came up with this? There was a time -- really -- maybe rather ancient, but there
was a time when tele-marketing didn't exist. I don't remember when I started getting such
calls, but after the first few, I grew tired of politely thanking them & asking them not to
call any longer. When that day arrived, perhaps after the third or fourth call, I grew more &
more delighted to simply fuck with them. This wasn't an entirely original idea. Many others
were growing increasing tired of these calls as well, & found as much entertainment as I in
wasting their time. But times have certainly changed. Lemme tell ya, if these people have any hope of prying cash out
of my tightly clenched fists, they'll have to be on the line. Naturally, I don't
like the idea of businesses actually seeking customers by any means other than
offering honest services & worth while products I go looking for. So, for any marketing wise asses reading this, you're wasting
your time on me -- & from the looks of the number of pages on Google with complaint after
complaint, it's not working on others either. Get a clue. The Alhzheimer's Report I remember many years ago reading a rather long article, I
think, in the San Jose Mercury News or possibly in the San Francisco Chronicle about how few
of the meat packing plants in this country actually get inspected by the Food and Drug
Administration. What with budget cuts from the Federal Government & the
unsubstantiated reports of pay-offs by the plants to the inspectors, very little
of the meat we eat was actually being inspected. This, at least the budget cuts, as well as less than stringent
methods of testing, continues today. It's even happening in the vegetable industry. E-Coli
outbreaks are now becoming rather common. But a new report out by the Alzheimer's Association
states that every 72 seconds another person is diagnosed with Alzheimer's in America. Could
our food be a major factor in this? I'm only here to point out possibilities, or, maybe, to state
the obvious, as it were. I wonder why our government & beef industry go to such lengths to
tell us that there is no mad cow in the US. The only reports of possible mad cow in the US
claims that the infected beef came from where? Canada. Yet other countries, Japan for one,
claims that beef from the US has been tainted. Is it possible that we're being lied
to? So, is there a connection between mad cow & Alzheimer's? Some
would say so. They even have a great deal of data to back up their assertions. I think we're
doomed. And one can't even swear off meat to escape a painful death at the hands of rich
Americans either. I really need to find a way out before I go completely wacky or
die trying. Oh, Condie! I forget now what news report I was watching -- they all look
alike these days -- but in one of the stories they'd made mention of something I'd completely
forgotten about. Not only are Bush & Cheney "oil men", Condoleeza Rice, it seems, is too. It
came as quite a re-revelation. I remember that Condoleeza had worked for some
years for Chevron Corporation, & that she'd even had an oil tanker named after her. Can you
believe it? An oil tanker. Naturally, after Condoleeza started working for the Bush admin,
the name of the tanker was changed. It just wouldn't be appropriate to have an oil tanker
named after you, considering the agenda in question. But this really made me think. The war & anti-Bush protesters
have been saying carries considerably more weight. The whole war, &, perhaps, our whole
post-9/11...& maybe even 9/11 itself...may very well be all about oil. Anyone remember the
film "Three Days of the Condor"? That's what the whole conspiracy in that book came down to.
Oil. But there's more. If the Bush agenda really is all about oil,
what else have we been led to forget in the pasts of these three individuals? We know that
the American, &, it seems, the world press, generally, are now allowed to
present some facts or print or air certain stories. Whether this is cause by pressure by the
government or because the rich bastards who control the news media are conservative &
pro-Bush, or simply because they're rich & politicians are rich, it's nothing
but a big "boys club", I certainly can't say. Whatever is the cause of our convenient forgetfulness, the fact
continues to stare us all in the face. Only the rich are reaping the rewards of conquest.
Only the rich are capable of making their own destinies. And we all have a part in making
their destinies, as opposed to our own. Clearly, the mass-conspiracy I'd always feared
existed, didn't want to believe was possible, is in full force. Forget Canada. I'm really off for Chile. Give me Chile, or give me...Chile? In addition to my "Jewish girl" thing, there's
something else I've been desirous of for a very long time. I've wanted to leave the US & make
a life elsewhere. This feeling has been with me since, at least, my teens, when I'd dreamt of
moving to Europe. Europe has held such promise for me for so many years that I'd
never really felt any other region would really suit me. That's now changed. A few years ago, I'd seen a documentary concerning life & the
inhabitants of a town in southern Chile. I was not simply impressed by how very cosmopolitan
they seemed, but that the seemed very European. So, in the back of my mind since, I've felt
that Chile might be an option. But it had never seemed more than that. Recently I'd started feeling an odd pull toward Chile. When I
get such feelings, I will usually do some research on whatever is drawing my attention, but
normally it simply comes to a greater knowledge of the subject. This time is
different. While there are some inconveniences; re-learning Spanish, for
one, dealing with a different economy & political system, for others, I not only think that
I could get past the difficulties -- fewer, I think, than those which would have presented
themselves to me in Poland -- but might even take me back a little in time. Chile isn't exactly living in the past -- made clear by all the
modern conveniences so apparent there, but the people are certainly more like I remember
people had once been here. I may be allergic to mercury, & many dishes in Chile are composed
of sea food, but there are an abundance of other foods there as well. I may not remember much
Spanish, but as Castilian is the form used there, I shouldn't have much trouble with that
either. And, as I was going to move to Poland to teach English, I really
think that this would be my means of not only getting there, but also getting work & feeding
myself. Of course, I'm not in a position, financially, to make this
happen any time soon. I have to pay my creditors as well as another loan I'd received from
family. Then, there's paying for the classes to become certified to teach English as a foreign
or second language. I could skip that, & likely find work without certification, but that
would mean lower pay & fewer options. If the Gods still love me, all these issues may work themselves
out & allow me to make this move. I really think that, because Chile is such a beautiful place
with good people, etc, I may finally find home. I think Chile has a very good chance of being
that.
Is this it? I've got it! I've figured something out about myself. I'm not
quite there yet, but I'm making connections. Interesting how thing happen. I'm catching a glimpse of what
really bothers me. There had been what was called a "manager meeting" at work yesterday.
I'd felt completely out of place, to begin with. But as the meeting progressed, I kept
wondering about why I felt that way. Apart from the whole corporate thing, that
is. The meeting was, essentially, about generating more money. It's
all in the guise of serving (or servicing) the customer, but when you really think about it,
it's just about making more money for those who already have lots of money. I'd fallen asleep for a couple of hours after getting home, &
upon awakening I'd started, in the back of my mind, thinking about what annoys me about this
job. An image...of sorts...hit me. I'm not just a man out of time, I'm not simply expecting
manners from others, I'm not a bad sort. I'm seeing this real problem rather as
a condemned man being asked to come up with ideas on how to make his execution more
entertaining to his executioners. The kids with whom I work are totally blind to all of this,
& I've been harping on the symptoms of a much greater disease for some years. I see it all
now. I have to think it all out more, but I think I've struck on the
source of of my problem. But, unlike the middle-aged man's "second childhood",
I'm looking to scale back. I have an incredible need to remove this crap from my
life. There will be dancing in Jerusalem this year I don't know why. I don't have the slightest clue. Lately I've
been very desirous of a Jewish girl. Not a specific Jewish girl, as I don't know any -- to my
knowledge -- personally. I just feel a strange gnawing inside which says: "Only a Jewish girl
will do". I'd known a few -- very few -- growing up. I quite liked them.
But, as with most girls, they had little interest in me. When I'd lived in NYC, I'd met quite
a few more, & I'd even pursued some of them. Again, they had little interest in me. Then, there was Orli. I'd met her in college. Orli was, is, from
Haifa, Israel. This was many years ago, & while she may have been interested in
me, I'd waited so long to ask her out that I was too late. She was returning to Haifa the day
after I'd asked her. I don't know that Orli represents any sense of an ideal. The
other Jewish girls I've known were equally attractive. But I think that she is foreign is very
important. Of all my ex-girlfriends, it is those who were from other countries who hold the
favoured spaces in my heart & memories. Whether the relationships we'd had were good or bad,
they are those I hold most dear. Perhaps this Jewish attraction is nothing more than some current
fetish. Maybe, now that I'm in my forties, I'm unconsciously hoping to find a real, loving,
"till death" relationship, & a Jewish girl represents some semblance of a chance that this
could happen. Whatever it is, the girls & women I meet -- attractive as they
are -- aren't foreign Jewish girls or women. As wonderful as they appear, or seem, or
are, I'm not so sure I'll be able to get past this. Of course, this desire may
not last -- I'm a man, & men are pretty fickle. But I can dream. Eat the rich I'd recently related a dream business idea I've had for some
time to a friend. I've mentioned this idea, as well as some others, to a few other people I've
known. But only in recent years have I been confronted by a very specific type of
opposition. It's not that the idea is bad. It, as had the others, seems
rather sound. But the the fact that this business simply doesn't serve the rich draws
incredible opposition. All who've opposed me backed up their allusions to my "naivete" with
examples, they believe, are the only things which would make a business successful. Each
example were things would only make the rich happier. Why is it that -- particularly in the past few years -- we have
all become servants to the rich? Look at the shops round us. Most every one caters only to
those who have lots of money. The few businesses which serve the poor are still there -- some
are not just successful, but are very successful. The poor aren't going away
either. So, how have we come to believe that only serving the rich will make us
successful? How could such a thing happen? Is it possible that the rich, &,
naturally, the government who are composed, primarily, of the rich, might, somehow, have
brainwashed us all into thinking that we are free? So free, in fact, that we have become so
distracted by other things, that we don't see that we're all just serving the rich? So, a business aimed at serving anyone other than
the rich -- aimed, specifically, at ignoring the rich -- could only be doomed to
fail...? I don't think so. I firmly believe that while there will always be rich, there will
be those who are not aware of the fact that they are nothing more than servants, or slaves. In
turn, someone has to give them some form of refuge -- whether one is aware of such a place
being a refuge, or not. OK. So, maybe it's a stretch -- a long one -- to think that the
rich could consciously manipulate us into unwittingly becoming their servants -- maybe, but
it's pretty clear that this is what has happened. We're all trapped. We're all enslaved to not
just money, but to those who have much of it. Would that we could see an end to globalization, an end to our
enslavement, an end to poverty, & war, & the desire for more toys. Would that we could see an
end to greed &, power, & the inevitable abuse of power. Would that we could see an end to all these stupid ills
surrounding us every day. Deny, deny, deny Perhaps I'm growing old. Perhaps I'm a man out of time. Perhaps
I simply remember a time when humans weren't so anal. Take for instance my current work situation. I have experience
in a number of fields, I'm not necessarily a slow learner, & likely possess a greater ability
to see beyond the surface than is good for me. I've made mention, below, of some of my
observances, but let's look at this: Over the years, people with whom I've worked have grown
continually more critical of possible short-comings in others, yet are unwilling to accept
their own. My current short-comings lie primarily in a distinct lack of
training in relation to the specifics of my current position. Of course, the hostility &
resentment of many of my co-workers due to my not having had to spend however long each of
then had slaving away to attain the exalted state of Shift Leader should be considered as
well. But this should work itself out -- assuming I remain in this position much
longer. The trouble is that everyone wants perfection from others in
addition to others not noting the lack of perfection in themselves. There's certainly the
possibility that those who make the most of other's imperfections are in absolute denial of
their own. More likely, their failings eat them up inside -- keeping the from sleep, causing
them to overeat, & to perform badly in personal relationships -- or even in bed. Am I to take seriously the paranoid-power-tripping rantings of
one who makes my co-workers cry? Am I to feel diminished by the criticisms of a fool? Do I
strike any of you, my readers, as that stupid? Perhaps. But you keep reading
anyway. Yes, I've been rather vague. Wouldn't you be? I'd rather like to
hold onto this idiotic job at least till I get another. The sad part is that while I've finally found a boss (not the
person to whom I refer above) with a little creativity & possessing balance, I'm still
confronted by this growing problem. I think, perhaps, this problem is the domain, primarily,
of the young -- & American youth at that. Abuse In the Workplace I'm sure you've all experienced it. I'm sure I'm not alone. We
all know what being the "new guy" at a job is like. I've had quite a number of jobs in my
"career": Retail, retail management, retail ownership, computer technical, corporate
purchasing, deli & restaurant work, & a few other jobs here & there. I've had to deal with the
"new guy" syndrome many times, but never have I had to deal with the hostility &
rudeness of the kids with whom I'm working now. Let's set aside the clear fact that getting work the past few
years -- growing stronger for maybe ten -- has become more about appearances, those of one's
personal look as well as a piece of paper which often hasn't anything to do with the work one
does. It's also become more difficult due to another clear fact; one has to know someone to
get an interview for many decent paying gigs, but few people are willing to do more than
suggest one should apply for whatever position. No one, in my experience, is willing to put
themselves forward to a hiring manager by so much as to offer to give their manager a copy of
your resume, let alone "talk you up" to the boss. I know there was a time when knowing someone meant something. I
know that there was a time when starting a new job with new procedures & personalities to
learn wasn't made more complicated by the abuse of outspoken, short-sighted, judgemental,
self-righteous coworkers. There was a time when one could walk into a new job & meet new people
who may or may not like you, but were willing to get to know you before they'd judge you
inferior. It's a beautiful world Oi! This electronic, power sucking, and wonderfully
convenient world in which we live is really getting me down. Not in the way the
government has always gotten to me -- that's a totally different quality of down.
This down is not so much frustration, but rather fatigue. At my new job, I work with a number of kids. These kids, like
most anyone who'd entered puberty in the 1990's, really only know a world of
convenience. Everything from cell phones, Blackberries, Visa &/or MasterCard
debit & credit cards, CD & mp3 players to workstations at home & laptops slung over their
shoulders. Sure, we could say kids today are far more spoiled than kids of
my generation, or earlier. They can't put the cell phone away for a minute. I'd even seen an
entirely too entertaining science program on PBS last night concerning something called the
World Wide Mind, or WWM, pronounced "Wim". The WWM
requires a computer chip, containing a transceiver, to be embedded into one's brain that one
can be connected to anyone else with this chip embedded, & to the Internet, creating a new
network, & providing one with immediate knowledge of anything they wish to know just by
thinking about it. When the WWM begins, it's pretty clear that the
young will be the first to opt for it. Let's forgo the obvious evils & ensuing abuses of this
WWM & get back to my fatigue. This has been growing for quite a long time. While
I love the fact that banks instituted ATM's & ATM cards, as trying to get some cash on a
weekend or at night had become impossible without them. But do we really need to be able to
spend, spend, spend at any moment? And why would we need to hear music everywhere we
go? OK. So, I'm a 'puter geek. Have been from the minute I'd
accidentally hacked into a UNIX mainframe & found a directory containing obvious games when I
was about ten years old. But I'm growing really sick of the ubiquity of computers. I think I'm
mostly bothered by such companies as MicroSoft touting some new product as being the greatest
thing with which we can't live without which is nothing more than a prettier piece of crap
than the last one they'd released. I doubt I'll ever find a woman who can stand me long enough to
actually consider birthing my demon spawn, but should that ever happen, I think my kids might
hate me. It's not that I'd be an overly strict parent, or would be stingy, or uninvolved. My
kids would hate me because I would only allow them so much television & computer time.
Instead, my kids would have books on most any subject available to them, they'd have board &
card games, & they'd have musical instruments & other tools of destruction...or, rather,
art. I also believe that my kids would have far more encouragement in
artistic, true intellectual endevours, & political activism to the point they'd likely tell me
to get the hell away. And I would, as I had the children of an ex-girlfriend, explain
why certain things are just not acceptable, rather than yelling & spanking when
they do wrong. But, above all else, while my kids wouldn't be deprived, they
would not be spoiled. No deposit, no concern Finally got work, & they even offer direct deposit. I really
like direct deposit. Pay arrives a day earlier than those waiting on printed checks, no time
lost due to bank's check processing, immediate confirmation that the company you're working
for actually has the funds available.... Then the day arrives. You've gone so long without work that all
your cash is gone, you've mounted immense debt, put off your current -- now late -- bills,
even had to hassle others for a small amount of cash just to get by, you log into your on-line
banking to find a zero balance. OK. Your payroll department needs two weeks to process a direct
deposit request. Forget that you've been working for not just two, but three weeks. Call work
to see that checks have arrived & that one is there waiting for you to find that there's no
check, & the manager isn't in. Wait. Wait longer. Call the boss, as he's in now, &, while he's
been informed of the lack of a check, he's not called the General Manager. More
waiting. Turns out the storm that put our corporate office under a few
feet of snow kept them from processing my payroll. And to think, three weeks of work isn't
enough time for them to do any work.... Fingering it out So, I've been cruising the personal posts on Craig's List lately.
While the "Rants & Raves" sections is often entertaining, I find the "Missed Connections" &
"W4M" posts very interesting. Both of these sections appear to be very telling, in a general
sense, about how very lonely -- &, perhaps, out of touch -- humans have become. Granted, no one wants to wake up to some hideous, grotesque
sight each morning, but the majority of posts in the W4M include statements like:
hwp, goal oriented, no baggage, not just employed,
but has a good job, handsome, has a sense of humour
& so much more.
It really amazes me. We humans think we know -- if we have any
clue at all -- what we want. But just as the rules change with each woman, or partner, with
whom we intimately involve ourselves, human desires change constantly. It's as if, as we
evolve (per se), we become continually more schizoid. Why must we have a need of intimacy -- or even a sex drive?
Each, if we have any expectation whatsoever, leads only to disappointment. There is no one who
looks just so, who possess all the qualities we want or need. But we think we'll
hold out for these things. Am I so much better because I've made some of these
realizations? Am I better because I'd given up on the concept of "dating" years ago? Or am I
any better because, as I get older, I'm beginning to see the futility of any sense of
emotional or sexual fulfillment? I doubt it. I still have my desires, my preferences, my
longings, my sex drive. I think I give up. Welcome home Back in Seattle, & again, I see nothing has changed. First,
before I get into this, I'm reminded of when I'd lived in Buffalo NY. Buffalo has been round
for a couple hundred years. You'd think, in all that time, someone in the local government
would have come up with a realistic plan to deal with the abundance of snow which is, due to
the weather coming off Lake Erie, called "lake-effect snow". Half way through each winter,
the city is at a lost when it comes to what to do with all the snow. They fill all the free
space, parking lots, & even put it on the thick ice over the Lake. But, typically, the city
shuts down because no one can get to work when there's no place left to put all the
snow. Now, back in Seattle, we're dealing with a similar situation
with rain & wind -- which, actually, makes one wonder about more than just the frequent rain
shutting down power for days or weeks all round the area. It's true. A week ago we'd experienced a series of storms. The
last one, due to soggy ground & high winds, forced many trees in the area to fall, &, in turn,
sever many power lines. Repair crews have been brought in by Puget Sound Energy, as well (I'm
sure) other local power companies, to get the power back on. A week later, with the threat of
a new storm, parts of Bellevue & other cities round Seattle, are still without
power. Now, you'd think, in a region where rain is rather common, &
where wind is regularly produced by storms, this wouldn't happen any longer. But it all begs
the question, what will happen when the inevitable coming natural disaster hits. Scientists
have been at pains to warn us that earthquake, tsunami, &/or the eruption of Mount Rainier is
very real, & well past due. Does anyone left have any faith in the "authorities", repair &
rescue crews? I suspect, when this imminent disaster comes, we're all going to be on our
own. Say bye-bye. Bye. NAU what...? I don't yet have much information about this -- most readers
from other countries & some within the US -- are well aware that the news media here doesn't
tell us much of anything -- unless it's a human interest story. But, there are some
interesting things of an economic nature coming our way. Have you ever heard of the
amero? There are various factors at work here, & I admit that the details are
over my head, but the gist of it isn't. Some here in the US may know that there has been talk in our
government of an answer to all the problems of NAFTA (North American Free Trade Agreement). It
appears that like Europe, the US, Canada & Mexico, are in talks to create what, among other
names, they're calling NAU (North American Union). This union is intended to bolster the
economies of each of the three countries involved by becoming, again, like the EU, one large
economic unit. With this, is a new currency called the amero. Now, while I agree with some of the ideas behind this, as I had
with the EU, there are some things which confuse or bother me as well. First, in creating this
NAU, the border between the US & Canada & that between the US & Mexico will disappear.
OK...good in many ways. Like in the EU, people of one NAU nation would (I assume) be free to
move to another NAU nation, buy property, get work, start a business, etc. Sure, the welfare
system will be in chaos, but let's ignore this. And let's not even think about all the money
being spent on a wall which will immediately become redundant. I also wonder about China's part in this. Oh, yes. China appears
to be involved. You see, China -- what is being predicted by economic experts as the next top
economy -- holds more of our money, in the form of bonds (essentially, IOU's) than any other
country. After recent high level talks between our government's experts & China's, it has been
reveled that China is seeking to dump these bonds to convert them to Euros because, it's
reported, China, "...has lost faith in the dollar."
How could all this come about without a high level of
manipulation? Could it happen by chance? Not likely. Mis-management, perhaps. More likely
intent. What intent? Why, the intent to implement the plans for NAU now. Oh, & what of the
dollar? Well, many experts are going on record stating that we, the people of the US are going
to be hit very hard by the recession we're now in when it's finally admitted. More, that the
dollar will be abandoned in favour of the amero, which will be used throughout our new
economic union, as well as the world. I'm just saying.... Bleak outlooks are par for the course. Not
only did the US get out of the crash of '29 & the isolationism which followed it as the
economy picked up. This potential disaster, as the one coming mentioned in my article above,
will be the same. We'll get through it. But it will still be very painful. Can we blame anyone for difficulties coming? Of course. But what
difference would it make? Like any CEO, those responsible will go on to become richer, while
the rest of us suffer. Just typical I, like many, grew up with relatively bigoted parents. I never
listened when either would make general comments on other races or religions -- what they'd
say made no sense to me. It may have been due to growing up in a place where there were few
people who weren't white. There were certainly people from other cultures, primarily Italian,
or, at lest, of European extraction. But I never gave such things any thought. I do remember an incident in high school which was very
important to me. My mother had worked with a black man who had a son attending the same
school. He & I knew each other, but he was a good student, & I...well, while I got good grades
in some classes -- A's in the ones I liked -- I was by no means "good". Sylvester & I didn't
have much in common, we ran in entirely different crowds. But, I'd rather liked him, as he
wasn't the annoyance most other kids there were. One day, after school, I found Sylvester sitting on a bench
outside the front gate waiting for a ride home. I don't remember why, but I sat down with him
& started a conversation. I don't think we'd ever said more than "Hi", or "Hey" to eachother
before, but today was different. At some point in the conversation, I suddenly felt odd
sitting there with Sylvester. It dawned on me that I was feeling sensations of prejudice. I
didn't like these feelings. I knew, in my heart, that they were wrong & completely
contradictory to what I -- rather than what my short-sighted parents -- believed. I stopped
him from whatever he was saying & apologized to him. I told him that my upbringing was, at
that moment, influencing me in ways I didn't like. Naturally, Sylvester was confused, so I
explained...& apologized again. From that day forward, I have made a concerted effort to rid
myself of those idiotic feelings my parents had bestowed upon me. I now only see these
difference between myself & others -- whether they be black, Latin, Asian, Jewish, or even of
a different species -- as nothing more than differences. For the most part, I just don't care
that others aren't like me -- I prefer it, & I seek them out. So, now, I find such an incredibly stupid exchange going on
caused not by he whom the debaters want to attack, but rather by the Port Authority of
Washington State. Of course, I'm referring to this issue of religious paraphernalia at Sea-Tac
airport. No one wants to pay attention to what the media actually says
about this, no one bothers to listen to the Rabbi's comments on what was done, what prompted
it, the actions taken previous to this problem or that the root of the problem
is the attitude of the sheep who hold positions of authority. All Rabbi Bogomilsky wanted was equal time. We're surrounded
this time of year by the ubiquitous pagan symbol xians had stolen in hopes of filling the
collection plate, & told that we must either worship Jesus...or at least, take part in a huge
sham perpetrated by those in high positions within xianity. Why is a single eight-foot menorah
so offensive to the Port Authority that they decide to do away with all their xmas
decorations & add to the insult by claiming that they just don't have time to consider all
religions -- particularly when the Rabbi had requested consideration of more than a single
faith as long ago as October? And now, all too many on Craig's List, who can't be bothered to
even seek out the facts, are stirring up an incredible amount of anti-semitism. They blame the
Rabbi instead of the true culprit: xianity. Sure, we have to blame the Port Authority for
their arrogance -- their inability to consider anyone who doesn't possess a narrow mind, but
we have to go deeper as well. I won't give you a complete litany of the crimes against
humanity of the Church. Suffice to say that xianity is at the root of all this
evil "dumbing down" of humans. Whatever happened to tolerance? Whatever happened to embracing
difference? Whatever happened to simple, common decency? Self Abuse I'm not, here -- as on my What We Do To Abuse Ourselves page --
talking about my psycho-sexual meanderings, but rather about my well being. Having been out of
work for a while & worrying about feeding myself, I've been introspective. This has been
prompted not simply because I've been through the mill of resume submission & not receiving
any response & failed interviews due to my not fitting some contemporary, stereo-typical
ideal. What's forced me into thinking about what I want is the prospect of working for yet
another short sighted, impersonal, & automaton-laden mega-corporation. It doesn't really matter which -- all corporations are the same.
What I'm on about is the very fact that I can not bring myself to be another nameless "droid".
I don't really know exactly what I'm seeking to do, as I cannot, seriously, think in terms of
a future. Ignoring the current socio-political state, it comes down to the very fact that the
abuse I've put myself through by employers who think of nothing but making themselves richer,
I think I'm of much greater value. If I cannot work toward some goal, some
future ideal, why can't I pursue instead, just a small semblance of personal
self-worth? You know, I would be only too happy to work, in most any
industry, where I would make $40,000-$60,000 -- or more -- per year. Who wouldn't? But I know
I would have to give up so very much of what makes me a productive member of society -- from
the community of workers at the same company, to the city in which I live, to my place in this
idiot world in which we have to live. Why, I implore you, must we become someone -- anyone --
we aren't from the minute we walk in the door of a prospective employer for an interview when
personality & individuality are what make workers happy & more willing to feed the people who
offer a means of having some sort of life? Why must we become other than we are to feed
ourselves? I miss the world in my head. Enough. Let me be poor & happy, rather than making enough to
afford more toys & being miserable. Is there not one employer out there possessing even a small
particle of creativity, let alone a decent attention span? Thematica What am I missing? I'm completely dumbfounded, and the longer I
li
Get this:
"Walkersville Md is advising visitors to its
four parks to bring their own toilet paper.
All paper products were removed from the park
restrooms after vandals set paper on fire in
a men's bathroom, Town Manager Gloria
Long Rollins said Monday. Hand dryers
will be installed, but visitors will have to
bring their own toilet paper, she said.
Rollins hopes the changes will help combat
vandalism, graffiti and drug use in the parks.
"Experts" again prove themselves worthless:
The Food and Drug Administration Wednesday
approved at the strongest possible warning for
antidepressants to alert doctors and patients
that the drugs could increase the risk of
suicidal thinking and behavior in adults 18
to 24.
-from an article by Denise Gellene, LA Times
Huh? I thought we'd addressed this issue of lead years ago. But now:
LITTLE ROCK, Ark -- Wal-Mart pulled sets of
baby bibs Wednesday from its stores nation-
wide after the bibs tested positive for high
levels of lead, a store official said.
-from an article by Jon Gambrell, AP
"The Collaborative International Dictionary of English v.0.48"
Volunteer Vol`un*teer", v. t. imp. & p. p. Volunteered; p.
pr. & vb. n. Volunteering.
To offer or bestow voluntarily, or without solicitation or
compulsion; as, to volunteer one's services.
1913 Webster
3/30/04 Interview Dittos Jeans. (thislondon) Remember Ditto's Jeans for girls? Here is an
interview I did recently with Richard Leff, one of the makers of these hot pants.
Xeno: Hello Richard, It is fun to have found you and thanks for answering some questions. How
did you become involved in the design of the Dittos line of pants and how did you start the
craze that made them must-haves for girls in the 1970's?
Richard: I was one of the founders of Dittos. Prior to Dittos there really were no jeans for
women/girls. The ladies had started to buy men/boys jeans. We were lucky enough to see the
need and hence Dittos became the leading female jean.
Xeno: With all the nostalgia such as "that 70's show" do you know why the haven't been
re-released?
Richard: Legal Reasons... But we may be back if these issues can be resolved.
Xeno: Do you have a secret cache of Dittos pants?
Richard: Sorry, No cache
Xeno: Do you still have the patterns that someone could buy or do you know where they are now?
(Funny, a month or two ago I was asking NASA if they still had the plans to the Saturn V
rocket. Answer: yes, they do, despite a major news story that says they are lost.)
Richard: Yes we do.
Xeno: Do you have any photos or sketches of the different styles, you working in the early
days, models, etc. that I could use for the article?
Richard: Nothing I would be willing to let out of my sight.
Xeno: Anything else that might be interesting to people who wore or admired Dittos pants?
Richard: The interesting thing is that over twenty years later Dittos still has a significant
following!
Xeno: Thanks very much for your time.
A few weeks after I posted this article, I had the following email:
"...I am the current owner to the DITTOS trademark, and yes, we are planning a relaunch. We
are shooting for Holiday 2004 season, but it may be Spring 2005 before we actually have them
back in the department stores. We are very excited about bringing the sexy curves of DITTOS
back to today's youth! I sincerely appreciate your interest in the nostalgia of our brand. I
would be happy to answer any further questions for you, or to send you some DITTOS when the
first line is launched. Great website!!
Thank you,
[Name removed intentionally]
President Dittos Inc.
March 30, 2007 - 10:46AM
Police have used tear gas and water cannons to disperse hundreds of rock-throwing high school
students who repeatedly blocked traffic on Santiago's main avenue.
Scattered clashes continued at dusk on Thursday night and the government said 264
demonstrators had been detained.
Most shops were closing by mid-afternoon and many offices let their employees leave earlier as
bus drivers closed their routes fearing attacks.
The students' motives for protesting were not clear. One protester, who identified himself as
Simon his face covered by a white handkerchief, said only that they were demonstrating "for
the situation and for our rights".
The protest, however, was far smaller than the well-organised marches of May 2006, when up to
700,000 high school students took to the streets to demand improved schools, lower public
transportation fares and educational reforms in Chile.
The latest protest came on a date often marked by violence by far-left groups commemorating
what they call "The Day of the Young Combatant", honouring two young brothers killed by police
in a 1985 protest against the 1973-90 dictatorship of Gen. Augusto Pinochet.
The judge investigating the killing of Eduardo and Rafael Vergara filed homicide charges
against one active and three retired police officers on Thursday.
A lawyer for the retired officers, Mauricio Unda, said that they acted in self defence during
the protest.
AP ©
The latest protest came on a date often marked by violence by far-left groups
commemorating what they call "The Day of the Young Combatant," honouring two young brothers
killed by police in a 1985 protest against the 1973-90 dictatorship of Gen. Augusto Pinochet.
The night protests were typical of the date.