Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Heart Of The Beast

One of the heads of the beast seemed to have had a fatal wound,
but the fatal wound had been healed. The whole world was filled
with wonder and followed the beast.

Time kept running out

The stilled life of flowers left behind in the dark

Then chambers echoed with the unbearable cold

On its own, the heart could beat no more

It must take the beats of hearts outside to live on

"Give me your beats!" it roars with great authority

The lost, the proud, the blind, the bowed

Come with ripped beating hearts in offering hands

"Only in death can purpose be found!"

Luscious lies sear fried minds asunder for plunder

"Almost there! Just a few beats more!"

Down the bottomless pit sink pulses of life

Useless energy spent siphoned by the Beast's fatal heart

In knowledge without understanding, the fool's sacrifice made

And he had power to give life unto the image of the beast,
that the image of the beast should both speak,
and cause that as many as would not worship
the image of the beast should be killed.

Death's demented disciples devour in a vampire's vanity

Leashed lemmings lead to zealous zombies

A sorcery of numbers breeds needless bondage

Infertile the saltless souls fade

Reason is treason, "The heart's obscene!"

Bold in betrayal the hunt for the last virgin love

"How dare your heart still beat when mine has dutifully stilled!"

Tree humpers savage land in outraged lust

Triumphant snakes slither down crosses of denial

War on the inside births war on the outside

Brilliant deemed words from cups of stupefied rage

The enemies of rainbows reign in quixotic fever

Hope is hailed for battles won in lost wars

Safe is the world for liars and deceivers

And hell for lovers and grievers.

...and they worshiped the beast, saying,
"Who is like unto the beast?
"Who is able to make war with him?"

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

"Emperor Obama"

Well, the Republicants are squealing like stuck pigs. Yo-Momma Obama put the screws to them like he should have been doing all along. Funny we aren't seeing more praise from the Obamabots. Maybe it's because they are the same as one highly vocal supporter who gushed effusive accolades for Obama's lack of principle. Guess there really are those who see principles as the enemy and the enemy as deliverers. Karma has an answer for that.

When dealing with a bent lot like the current crop of Republicants (who are gradually losing their human form more and more every day - but will anyone notice??) the truth is they are actually ripe for the picking in political terms. The fruit is hanging so low it practically hits you on the head. They are in such overextended positions even the slightest acts of humanity will do them in.

That's exactly what happened with immigration amnesty. After the despicable post-election wailing of "I hear you", our President actually backtracked from that stance into one far more upright. Usually when the Republicants threaten to call him bad names Obama prostrates himself like a prom queen at homecoming. "King", "Emperor", "Meanie" - they rolled out the works hoping to scare him off. This time whitey lost.

Holding a piece of future kindling

The cretins are threatening to legislate a reversal of the order. Go ahead! This will do the one thing they absolutely, positively, no-way-in-heaven-or-hell want to do: define themselves. If legislation passes rolling back the order the Rethugs will be forever branded as anti-immigrant and anti-family to the fastest growing segment of the population. Oops! But it's either that or capitulate in one form or another to the Great Black Satan. Gee, what's an asshole to do?

So yes, doing the right thing is divisive, it forces people to make a stand, to come out into the open. Jesus made it very clear he came here to divide. But let's face it, most of us don't want to be exposed like that, to have the whistle blown on us so-to-speak. And Lord knows this President has shown a special antipathy for whistle-blowers - those doing wrong (especially in the name of doing right!) always do. And that's why we see little to no outrage for truly dictatorial behavior.

It's true when Obama came into office he made his stance very clear that the rule of law has no place in his administration. Law enforcement would piss off all the criminals and he couldn't have that since he needed to "bring us all together." What a high state of delusion that is! But to finally admit that there are those above the law - regardless of harm done - really does take the cake. Guess that's one way to get the criminals on your side!

Until May, large financial institutions investigated for wrongdoing had dodged criminal prosecution under the Obama administration, despite evidence from federal regulators and prosecutors showing that big banks had, for instance, laundered money for suspected terrorists and drug cartels; manipulated interest rate benchmarks; rigged various commodities markets; mislead investors in mortgage-linked securities; duped homeowners into taking out expensive mortgages; manipulated municipal debt markets; and broke state and federal rules when attempting to seize homes after borrowers fell behind on their payments, a scandal that became known as "robosigning."

But until Friday, no senior federal official had acknowledged this was explicit U.S. policy.

“We were not willing to find those firms guilty before, because we were worried that if we found them guilty, that could somehow potentially destabilize the financial system,” Dudley said. “We've gotten past that and I think it's really important that we got past that.”

I won't bother debating the veracity of the "got past it" quote or the laughable idea dozens of CEOs will be indicted for their felonious behavior. We have crowned the bankers as de facto kings of our society - something with which only the "impractical" radicals have a problem. Unfortunately, it seems only time will educate the rest of the populace as to the "pragmatism" of making these fuckers our rulers and deciders of our fate. How many homeless children does it take before we change course?

Good guys don't need no stinkin' warrant!

And of course when our President truly acts as a king - in the direct taking of life in extrajudicial manner - we hear not a peep from the Republicants who can't wait to be scrawling out their very own Kill Lists before going to bed at night. Pretenders on the left say, "Good Daddy is only killing the bad guys to make us safe!" Those on the right declare, "Yippee! We get to kill people!" Way to go uniting the emotional twelve-year-olds with the emotionally disturbed.

41 men targeted but 1,147 people killed: US drone strikes – the facts on the ground

Ah yes, it's a beautiful world. Corruption must be protected to keep our corrupt society going. Fear has us lashing out wildly across the globe taking out anyone in whom we see ourselves. And any acts of humanity must be mercilessly and relentlessly attacked at all costs. Don't need a prophet to tell us how this turns out!

Monday, November 24, 2014

Aka Aki (Red Autumn): Explosion In The Garden (Photo/Video)

Aka Rain 2

without a hat
a winter rain falls on me,
so what

The "gales of November came early" this year, a three day freeze turning a somewhat timid garden into an explosion of colors. As a coda to the midweek freeze we had a gentle Japanese rain on Saturday. Apparently it was enough of a rain to keep out the hordes but as usual, the rain drew me in. Thank God. I was regaled by spectacular colors left and right, above and below. I literally gasped. These are my beloved Japans, a jewel of the world, sprinkling her influence around the globe.

Aka 92

Aka 51

Aka 23

Aka 31

the color of wind
planted artlessly
in an autumn garden

"Great day for taking pictures, isn't it?"

I was accosted by a fellow photographer, no doubt noticing the look of marvel on my face.

"It's unbelievable!" I replied, also noticing the look of marvel on his face. "There should be 500 people here."

"I agree!"

Aka 67

Aka 68

Aka 43

Aka 72

sweeping the garden
I want to leave in the temple
scattered willow leaves

I came for the reds. I was going to do a theme on all the shades of red in the autumn garden: the magentas, the scarlets, the crimsons, the burgandys, and what I call the 'electric reds', a color that hit me like a lightening bolt when I first saw it. I stuck with the theme but I couldn't ignore the overall beauty as I staggered along. "This is a gift" I thought to myself. "Take it all in."

There's an urge when entering such an enchanted realm to want to possess it, to never let go, to hold on to its presence forever. I dream of having my own garden to while away the hours day after day, immersing myself in the moment, unconscious of time. Perhaps then I could requite my desires. But then I remember this is a temple to be accepted on its own terms - and in that is wisdom - dammit.

Aka 1

Aka 58

Aka 49

Aka 64

this autumn
why getting older is like
a bird into clouds

On the other side of the world: mass executions without reason, oppression without end, and those more desperate for war than peace. Here, we see the institutionalization of greed, the protection of corruption at any cost, and the illusion of corporate profits defining our primary national interests. I walk in fear wondering how much of that is inside me; to what am I contributing?

This is my sanctuary but I find it impossible to isolate myself here. I can only recognize this moment, this raindrop, this dream. That's enough for now.

Aka 76

Aka 91

Aka 50

Aka 46


I made three different videos. The first with a soundtrack from "The Natural Sounds of Japan" (courtesy of bbd). The second echoes simply with the sounds of the garden. And lastly I combine the sounds with that of a solitary bamboo flute. Take a stroll through paradise before it's lost.

All poetry courtesy of Basho, wandering Japanese monk.

Click here for the entire photo set

Friday, November 21, 2014

The Debt Collector

BANG! BANG! BANG! "Come on, Mr. Bean. Open up!"

Mr. Bean was born cranky. Banging on his door first thing in the morning only made him crankier. "Goddam, what is it?" he grouched opening his finely inlaid entrance.

A man in a multi-colored suit gave the bad news. "Your house. We're taking it for money owed."

"I own this place free and clear, you rat bastard moron!"

"Right. You've got full equity. That's why it's the best one to take."

"You must be downright nuts! I don't owe you a goddam thing."

"No, but Smithers down the street gambled away your house so now it belongs to my bank."

"That's outrageous! How can he do that! That's not even legal!"

"Yeah, so? You can go vote or protest or whatever it is you people do. All I know is everyone decided we could take your house for the debt."

"Go fuck yourself! What do you mean 'everyone decided'?"

"Your neighbors knew we had to take somebody's house so they voted it to be yours. They don't like you much. Democracy in action!"

"Wasn't anyone pissed a house not belonging to Smithers was being taken for his goddam debt?? That's outrageous!!"

"They were pissed until they found out just yours was being taken."

"But it could happen to them too!"

"An esoteric and extraneous point based on a paranoid conspiracy theory - though we do have plans to take theirs too. Nice neighborhood!"

"Who are you people? What makes you think you can do this??"

"The Big Shots say we can."

"What fucking Big Shots? I'll have their goddam heads!"

"Actually, according to our records you voted for the Big Shot over you."

"But he's supposed to be one of the good guys!"

"He is! Everyone else wanted to take your house six months ago but he held out. So think, you got six extra months!"

"Who gives a shit about that now!!"

"Not me. Now fork over the keys or the six cops I got behind me will shoot you down and call it self defense. I told them I'd take their houses if they didn't help us so I wouldn't mess with them."

"This is a nightmare! Un-fucking-believable! I wake up and my whole life is ruined. How can this happen? Has the world gone mad? Doesn't anyone give one flying fuck about anything?"

"Quit your whining and consider the greater good."

"Why can't someone say that to Smithers??"

Guns drawn in vicious hatred, the lawless officers removed a livid and screaming Mr. Bean and put a "For Sale" sign up on the lawn. He didn't go quietly - but go he did. Stunned and dazed, Bean wandered the streets in helpless muttering dismay.

"Look, mommy! A creepy homeless guy talking to himself!" decried one little girl.

"I wonder what he did to deserve that?" whispered her mother whisking her child to safety.

Down the street was a crowd of petty rock throwers, rabid police and angry artillery - all aimed at one single house. Bean felt a sense of relief to focus on another's troubles.

"What's going on here?" he asked a fellow bystander.

"Force field," was the reply as if to explain everything.

"Force field? You're kidding me?"

"I cannot imagine why I would do that. They took the force field option and now everyone is pissed the house can't be taken. Simple, logical facts."

"I could have taken a force field - but I didn't! I'm a good loyal citizen who trusts his government and all authority to do the right thing." As he said this another artillery shell whistled overhead. "I hope those mortars break through. If I can't keep mine neither can they. Damn them and their good decisions!"

Bean looked curiously at the rock throwers who were dressed in rags and covered in filth, clearly not belonging to the upscale neighborhood and stood no chance of sharing in any profit from stealing the abode.

"Why are those ragamuffins throwing rocks? They have no stake in this."

"Idiots need to feel useful. Besides, poor people can be greedy too. They just don't have the outlet."

"Looks like they found one!"


Bean later found out the rock throwers were given golf tees in reward by the wealthy land grabbers whose bidding they did in hopeful aspiration. Though none of them could afford a round of golf nor even had clubs, they felt quite proud, calling themselves the "Tee Party."

Bean could find no friendly ear. "I've been victimized!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. No one paid him a cent of attention. His plea of "This isn't supposed to happen to me!" actually caused some amusement. When he started screaming society was "insane, corrupt, and out of control" the Thought Police were notified for a terrorist alert. Bean was able to hide before the drones arrived or this would be the end of the story. It shocked him to remember he used to cheer drone strikes when watching on TV.

Determined to seek justice, Bean researched Smithers' evil ways, of his secretly taking money that did not belong to him, leveraging it so every loss was multiplied by 30, then threw his victims out into the street before starting all over again. Bean posted these facts with complete verification on the internet in what he hoped to be a startling exposé that would change the course of society. The comments showed him otherwise.

"Whoa! That Smithers dude is smart! I want to be like him!"

"It's your own fault for letting it happen! Take responsibility for your life. Don't be looking to me to pay your damn bills!"

"This is obviously sour grapes on the achievers in society. Get over it. No one wants to hear this shit. You should be applauding Smithers instead of attacking him with baseless accusations."

At his lowest hour, Bean heard words to lift him out of his plight.

"Those who've been disenfranchised, disavowed; those who are deep in despair, take heart. I feel your pain. What's happening to you should not be happening. A society lives on justice but starves with injustice. Our future - our very lives - are at stake. This cannot go on! This must not go on!"

Bean looked up to see Dear Leader beaming with resounding applause from his believers. Rushing to Dear Leader's side, Bean plead his case.

"Sir! Sir! I'm being made to pay for debts not my own!"

"Well, somebody's got to pay. Not gonna be me!"

"Yes, but - what about what you just said about justice and everything??"

"Don't ya love it! That kind of shit gets me elected - and re-elected! Everyone so badly wants to believe. The stupidity of the voter suits me quite well."

"Didn't you mean any of it, about society needing justice to survive?"

"Abstract philosophy has no place in a modern society. That's the problem with justice: it's just not pragmatic."

At this point Bean's belief was shattered forever. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean, you twisted twit! You seriously trying to tell me a society can't survive serving justice? Are you out of your bankrupt mind?"

"I'll tell what it means, my good man. It means society needs bankers - not homeless fucks like you."

"Oh yeah? You can suck my big white dick, you sonofabitch! Who the fuck needs you? I hope you're fed back twice what you're serving out!"

"I'm needed to protect society from angry people like you, you shithead. Now, if you'll excuse me I'm about to be fêted by the Gambling Lobby. You know what -" Dear Leader couldn't stop from laughing. "You know what they tell me? The only way the gambling laws were kept in place was because the anti-gambling forces trust me so implicitly! God, that's funny! Don't you know I'd be Jesus if only they would let me!"

Dear Leader laughed his way down the street, cracking himself up with a perpetual string of inside jokes. Mr. Bean was not amused, slumping down into a nearby gutter as the rain began to pour.

"What's left to fight for? The world has gone mad in daylight madness. All I've got left is my soul." Bean held his head between his hands in free and total defeat. "I just can't believe I have to pay for debts not mine own. There's no escape is there? Living here is complete shit - even when you do nothing wrong."

"Tell me about it!" affirmed a voice from the cross above.

Wednesday, November 05, 2014

See? Obama Really Is A Genius!

Still not letting the good be the enemy of stupid

So we finally see the results of Obama's super-secret, super-genius, grand master plan to outflank the Republicants to further his hidden liberal agenda by keeping the Democraps in power.


It was supposed to be a brilliant rope-a-dope strategy beyond the understanding of us mere mortals. What appeared on the surface to be craven Chamberlain-like wholesale capitulation was in reality a clever trump play in the making to restore order to the galaxy - or so I was told. Continuing - and enhancing - radical right-wing policies was OK since it was being done by what some called the reincarnation of JFK. Don't believe your lying drone eyes, just trust the guy!

Some people are expressing frustration at the midterm outcomes. But why? When sowing Republican seeds one should expect Republican weeds to grow. Oh, that's right. When the Democrat Jesus spreads Republican seeds, Democrats should sprout up. If we'd just given the guy enough support he could have defied the laws of physics. How pragmatic! Politics is certainly fertile ground for wishful thinkers.

If you're going to go to all the trouble of voting,
actually vote for someone of your own species

The reality so few want to face is that we are on a sinking ship. Anyone worth their salt knows this, knows why, and would never run for office. What sort of idiot rushes to be the captain of the Titanic as it's irreparably damaged? It's a fool's errand and whoever ascends to power will be rejected in the end for not righting the ship. False saviors will continue to roll in at the expense of the fearful and gullible and many will attach meaning to the meaningless in a pretense of responsibility. But those who continue to lie to themselves and cling to the sinking ship will perish along with it.

The voters have spoken! They see hope in dirty wars, dirty water, dirty lies, dirty money, dirt deeds, and a dirty world. They have to. They voted for it. That's how the charade goes on: everyone votes themselves to be Jesus. "I'll put whomever is most like me in power!" No system, no "benevolent ruler", no nothin' can substitute for a clean spirit. It's all a big, giant illusion with people pointing fingers as the ship goes down, others with blankets over their heads to keep the illusion alive, and a very few - vilified by the rest - actually trying to fix the holes.

If you were God, who would you trust?

Saturday, October 25, 2014

I Robbed Jenny Of $10,000 And She Doesn't Know It

The happy ending that never was

Like the man once said, "It's the getting-away-with-it part I couldn't live with."

Who was Jenny? Jenny was my most favorite person in the world. We would sing together in private, each voice rising up the other's. My voice alone could never match what it was with her's and vice-versa. That's a tricky thing in even the best of scenarios. So I needed her - but couldn't see how see could need me. After all, who wouldn't want to be the great Jenny's singing partner?

We met at the local Maserati club. She an owner and I, alas, but a fan of the marque. Her being a chick that's into cars, that alone got me going. She's so cool! And then, the more we talked the more I found out we'd always been friends who'd just never met. That growing, exciting feeling you get when you meet those handful of people in your life, and you know this is something real: there's just nothing like it.

But I'd had another lifelong "friend" in my life too: gambling addiction. I can never get it straight in my head no matter how much I try. I need a way out and ten bucks an hour can never do. Everyone has to have hope no matter how unrealistic it might be. I see crazy rationalizations every day from the political to the personal that echo of the same desperation I have. On every corner, another false savior to be found; another fool who makes himself feel good about himself by clinging to the idea we live in a civilization.

I was very desperate for Jenny not to know of my darker side, all the while I was vastly consumed with the guilt of my dishonesty. I had nightly dreams of her visiting the track only to find me standing in a pile of losing tickets, i.e. a loser. Sure, I can't own a Maserati like she does but she never held that against me and once we started singing it took things to the next level. But the deeper our relationship got, the more overwhelmed I became with the dark secret of my private abuse. If only...

So that's how I was able to get into the inner lair of the most popular girl at the Maserati club. It was tough because I was unbearably jealous of the actual owners with whom I can never compete. I obsessed on getting a car of my own so I could have as much to offer Jenny as they. As it was, all I had was my singing and well, how good could that really be? In this age of American Idol everyone has aspirations of stardom. Jenny and I both were adamant on not hooking up to the train of self-delusion.

Still, I never felt more proud than when she said she was "damn proud" of the singing we'd done together. And certainly, after having planted a flower one has hopes and dreams and an overpowering desire to make it grow. We stood on the brink of that, wondering of the next step. She never knew my next step would be to reveal myself as a chronic abuser. All the life would go out of her face and I'd be cast aside from the Maserati girl who leads an honest life. I had no resentment about that but I was helpless to keep what I had.

I didn't have the guts to bring her down to the track and show her the shame of my existence, that this is what I'd made of my life and whatever talents I had. Like other mental contortionists, I had to have a way, of making myself believe - even if I didn't believe. I was going to gamble my way to riches, get a dream car like Jenny and show that I'd made something of myself. But really, even if I did hit that long shot, what sort of "success" is that? What does that contribute to society? In the middle-of-night agony I'd answer, "More than what I do now!"

It had to come out somehow, though, so the unthinkable crossed my mind. I'd take some of Jenny's cash to the track. If I won I could return it a conquering hero as I pulled up in the first new car of my life. If not, she'd see she how sick I must be to betray the person I most loved and trusted in the world. Sounds insane now as I type it out in the light of day, but I was going out of my head at the time, torn between endless desire and endless despair. "You have to answer for what you did, Carlo."

You've got to pay your debts.

Of course, nothing ever works out like you plan. It really is like in the movies sometimes, how it all just goes haywire. I took the money from her but Jenny never suspected me, never even crossed her mind. I needed her to blame me and hate me and scream at me and throw me out the door. Then I could explain my addiction and she'd see she didn't want to be my friend anyway. It was like a nightmare, her honest trust - something I'd never experienced before in my life nor expected, like I was somebody. She knew what we had was real so why would I grab for an illusion like money? God knows, I didn't want to answer that.

Needless to say, I did the worst thing possible, one lie leading to another and then another. I was silent on my theft and that caused me to repeat the cycle again, having to let her know of my thievery - by making her think I was stealing her friendship. That's sort of what I felt anyway. So I started dropping hints her singing could never amount to anything while at the same time adding pressure for her to go public with it. "Why not, Jenny?" I'd innocently ask, knowing she wasn't ready yet. But that was something she thought she had to hide from me, that I'd be disappointed in her. Nah, that's a lifetime project. She'd already won in my book just by being.

Naturally, I lost the money. I have no way of paying it back in my lifetime. I'm not even sure if I won the lottery I could face her anyway. I jabbed at Jenny so hard that if she ever saw me coming down the street she'd run the other way even if it meant heading into oncoming traffic. That was my plan for keeping my secret safe: to make her avoid me since I couldn't resist her. To this day she still thinks I stole her friendship but not her money. If only she'd hate me for the right reasons it would be an improvement.

I still haven't given up the track, I've got nowhere else to go. But every day I think about the songs we sang and wonder what I left on the table all those years ago. I told myself she was bound to find a husband and start a family and not have time for frivolities like me in the end regardless. I made up a million reasons to fail or run away. My fellow losers at the track have remarked on my physical degeneration since that time. Well, what do you expect from a degenerate? It's no fun finding out you're the bad guy, after all. Even if I won at the track I'd still lose. What is broken cannot always be undone.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

I Saw The Bonnie And Clyde Death Car?!?!

Ambush Car 7

Pilot Point is a small Texas town set in horse country north of Dallas. I used to drive up regularly for some famous blueberry fruit pies to be found there. It's a wonderful drive through the horse ranches and rural shops lining the highway leading to the turn off that takes you back in time to an old fashioned town square. When scouting for the "Bonnie and Clyde" film so many decades ago the producers were thrilled to find so many rural Texas towns be perfectly preserved.

Pilot Point was never robbed by the Barrow gang in real life - but it was in the movie. So the town elders decided to pick up on that heritage and hold a Bonnie Clyde Days festival every October. I went to the first one but this year had something special: the actual car in which the infamous duo met their fate. That was a mildly shocking claim to me because it was my understanding the car was in a casino in Nevada. Naturally, I had to go check it out.

Ambush Car 1

Ambush Car 2

Ambush Car 3

I asked a woman helping to present the car how they managed to get the car there. "By trailer!" she responded as if I were a bit of a dim bulb. I went on to explain that I wondered how they wrangled the car from the Nevada casino. Then she pointed to a guy next to her, saying, "Oh, he owns it." Well, that was really confusing!

Ambush Car 5 Guy in the cap is the owner

He went on to spin a yarn about a mysterious eccentric millionaire holed up in these parts who had the real ambush car while they had the wrong one at the casino. He also claimed to have some of their guns including the one Bonnie slipped to Clyde at the Waco jail. Mystery millionaire shelled out a couple hundred grand for these items at some point in time but had recently passed away. Now this guy was in possession of all these valuable artifacts. True or not, an interesting tale!

Threshing Sign

Depression era themes abound and one really cool feature every year is the old farm equipment on display. The early tractors are a hoot, making you want to try them out plowing a field. The peanut threshers are also always there. I caught them in action, looking as if they'd still do just great today. The video below shows how they'd have been harvested back in the day.

Besides the tractors there were the usual booths, classic cars and depression era themed spots all with the backdrop of buildings from that era.

Tractor 1934

Model A's

Pie Contest

But the highlight is always the "robbing" of the bank. In year one it was staged and filmed by the film school from a university in nearby Denton. Now it's been taken over by the local high school and they put a different twist on it. Instead of staging what would be an actual robbery by the famous duo, they embraced recreating the movie staging of a robbery. All the players were miked up, playing out their parts from a script.

Police Car 3

What was unnerving was seeing the Bonnie and Clyde characters as portrayed by the teenagers realizing the actual duo was scarcely older than the high schoolers when they embarked on their spree. It brought home more of the tragedy to me, of realizing wasted youth. The skit they played out was of the film director location scouting with Warren Beatty. There were many sly jokes at the expense of Beatty's well known ego which made me wonder who wrote the script.

Bonnie And Clyde 1

Bonnie And Clyde 2

Movie Crew

The kids were delightful with their youth and enthusiasm. They had a great vibe around them and the whole small town atmosphere of the crowd was like one big family. Actors and audience alike were enjoying themselves. I was really proud of the kids doing the the hardest thing in movies: comedy. Takes a lot of guts to perform in front of your home town like that. Here's a small clip below.

Police Car 5

It was nice to be able to step into a bygone era with the safety of time between then and now. The 30's were a horrific decade with much suffering and despair, people scrambling for scraps of hope and finding still less. I liked the change of focus from an actual robbery to movie making. It does more justice to the actual history. It's a really cool event and everyone should go at least once if you get the chance.

Click here to see the entire photo set