Like all things great, it started with a dream. Brave is the pioneering soul who says, "There is a better way" and then seeks it. One step closer to love...
Ancient Rome ruled the world. "No man shall be emperor" she declared. "A Republic we be." But the power and riches of her better way corrupted her heart and soul, rotting her from within...
Accusing and losing souls mocked democracy, a fool's errand of the naive and unrealistic they proclaimed. Even we were scared, declaring non-entities may not participate. Non-entities such as women, non-landowners and those enslaved...
On two paths we traveled: of love of freedom and love of money. Along the way, the two forces would clash, for a man can serve only one master. But we kept the light alive, even if never taking the final step...
Alas, we replaced our king with a god - and it bade us rape all we see. From Indians to the land to the sea, trust the money god to set it all right. Our motto changed: "What is life without freedom money?"
"Who can argue with the money god? It built this great land!" Like ancient Rome, none could match our power, but we forgot what brought us to such soaring heights. It was the good life for us, keeping a blind eye on the new slaves we created, revelling in our empire...
But like so many nations before us, our own perversions eat us alive, twisting reality that death is life, war is peace and lies are truth. We can tell ourselves we're still on freedom's path but if we are not, we'll be no less enslaved and no less dead.
What you see above is the lining wall for a gas well. A variance was approved to allow it so close to the homes. Myopia is taking over:
You see, you don't have to worry about you or your kids being blown up if you're making money. At first we fight for our lives, and then we surrender. Now, ain't that America in a nutshell?
_________________________________
Having read about the high impact urban gas wells, I went and took a few pics of my own, including the one above. Here are a few others:
Gas wells are worked on 24/7 until drilling is complete.
Not much to see when completed.
Not far from the street! Orange netting marks a pipe outlay.
Frac wells drill sideways and use millions of gallons of rapidly disappearing Texas water.
This is what it looks like when a gas pipeline explodes
_________________
America, you're the poet in my heart. Why did you have to lose faith?
That quote comes from Howard Davidowitz, some sort of self-proclaimed pundit, and I thought it was pretty funny. I don't usually get all worked up about politics, it's a subject most people don't understand as it's a completely tail-wagging-the-dog scenario. Politics is just another mirror, it reflects us but does not determine us. But most people don't realize when they're looking in the mirror so I couldn't resist a line like that.
Here's the video it comes from along with part of the accompanying Yahoo story:
[The oil spill claim is ludicrous, baseless and hysterical]
Clearly, the [anti-Christ 43rd President] was unique in all of American history for inflicting evil upon the land. The fact we allowed that to happen does not bode well for us. And it was the election of the Dark Prince Reagan who first threw reality to the wind declaring trees cause pollution among various other daylight insanities he transgressed. So O-man is clearly not the worst.
Damn sure not the best either, though.
What he is is a Nothing Man, a leaf upon the water. If things are flowing in the right direction he goes with the current, if things are flowing in the wrong direction, he flows with that current as well. He's not one to fix a crisis or stem the bleeding. He recognizes the crisis and seeks to allay fears for political reasons but his solutions are all a matter of perception, not painful reality. Nobody wants to hear about reality. If we did, O-man never would have made it into office (neither of the final pair was fit).
There are many who see Obama as a messiah, just as many did his predecessor, claiming he will fix us and must be in office or the sky will fall. But if you fear who your fellow man will put in office all is lost anyway. Only the truth deserves fidelity, no one person. There is no salvation outside of the truth, no matter how much we seek it, just as is there is no salvation through politics either.
Some say siesta time is a nothing time but really it’s a something time even if I can’t defend it to a world with blinders on that worships slave labor. Slave drivers will have the hottest spots in hell. So will the slaves. But if one never recharges, one ceases to labor all together.
Not that I can get any rest around here.
Larry comes strutting down the sidewalk like an MTV rapper who just bought his first Rolls-Royce, thinking he’s reached the end of the proverbial rainbow. That’s the problem with Larry: he always reaching the end of the rainbow only to find it’s just another illusion. He’s one of those people who looks for answers solely outside of himself. It makes for a predictable ending.
"Hey Harry, look what I got!" Well, fuck, he’s not falling for my fake sleeping routine – or rather he probably just doesn’t give a shit if he wakes me up or not. He’s carrying a five gallon water container with two hoses sticking out of either side. To paraphrase Paul Newman in Butch Cassidy, "I don’t know what he’s selling but I know I don’t want any". I let out an internal sigh and lower my hat in vain hopes of discouraging the scourge.
"Check it out, Harry! I finally did it!" I thought to myself: I'm not having this conversation. "Know what it is? It’s a fart catcher!" God bless my instincts. "I was watching Oprah and the guy on there says the best thing to do in this down economy is start your own business.” There’s only about a thousand holes in the last sentence needing comment. The gods are testing me. “He said inventing something no one else had can make you rich!"
Some things are so absurd they require no comment, sort of like the idea of conservative morality. So no way was I going to be lured into any of his pitfalls, like asking why anyone would want a fart catcher and what the hell was he going to do with them anyway. Set them free back into the wild? Then, as if reading my mind, my neo-nemesis explained.
"It’s going to be just like Ghostbusters. I get called in, contain the smelly ol' farts and then I deposit them into a compression chamber somewhere. Right now I’m just going to store them in a storage unit I think, till I get enough money for sumpthin' better." Next I feel coming the inevitable loaded question: "So whatcha think?"
My eyes barely flicker. "Cool. Let me know when you make your first million."
Suspenseful silence on the other end. Did he actually detect my sarcasm? Is he going to whine about his obviously false hopes even though I know it's the only thing keeping him going? Believe me, that's a nightmare I know and live. I just don't want to hear his shit.
"You don't believe me, do you?"
Fucker. Tightening the noose on me, is ya? "Sure, I believe ya. Why wouldn't I?" Whew, managed to get the ball back in his court.
"OK, here!" I heard his petulant voice stomp. And he shoved that stupid water container in my face and God knows what was in it but it smelled like shit warmed over along with a healthy dose of rotten eggs. That got my attention. But just as I was reaching out to wring his chubby little neck, he tore out down the street squealing and laughing, making me wonder if he was putting me on all along.
Quickly, I did a search over my entire body but I didn't find a note attached saying "Fuck with me." So I grasped for rest otra vez.
-----------------
Then my guilt monster stopped by. The fucker is never far. But I got thinking back to the U.S. Open and Tiger Woods flame out in the final round. So I asked my guilt monster what Tiger Woods' guilt monster was telling him. Well, it gets this big ol' shit eating grin on its face because the job of Tiger’s guilt monster is an especially delicious one.
After the beast got off its cell, I got the word: "It says this to him: 'What kind of monster are you to win a major golf event after destroying your family, your reputation and your morals? Don’t you care about anything? Only a sorry fucker like you would win!'"
I felt a little bit better after hearing that seeing that I’m not only one thusly tortured. But I also saw how pointless it was for Tiger to lose – as if they would make up for anything! Then I went over and kicked my guilt monster right in the nuts - which felt damn good!
Gee, hope it's not mad.
-----------------
What's weird is when you hear stuff when you're half in a dream state...
First two guys pass by.
"So, did she do it?"
"Yes, I got her to swallow all my lies!"
"Awesome! Women are so dumb! I love it!"
Then two women come along and I guess they were with them.
"So, did you do it?"
"Yes, I got him to believe I believe all his lies!"
"Awesome! Men are so dumb! I love it!"
Earlier in the day I'd seen part of Sarah Silverman's act on TV and she says both "um" and "Jew" a lot but I kept looking at her interesting face and now I hear these strangers talking, sliding into my head making me wonder if I would believe Sarah Silverman's lies if I got to fuck her and I was really pissed when I had to answer yes so I wrote down on my mental To Do list for the eighty millionth time to get my shit together because if I don't someday I'm going to look just like those idiots I despise that I'm no better than. Damn, I want to be better than somebody!
Or at least a tie...
------------------
They say when you're young and dumb you're liberal and when you get older you're smart and conservative. People say rubbish like that hoping God will realize just what a great soul they are. But to me, that just makes them more of an asshole. So you get these old fuckers going on moral rampages trying to get everyone to clean up their act and that sounds good and all but the reality is they only do it because they have no intention of cleaning up their own. I wish they'd all die.
And the women are the worst because society gives them carte blanche on demonizing anything they want. Living in Dallas, there ain't no shortage of old conservative women and I was not to be spared when these two "keepers of morality" inflicted their bitterness upon the world.
"I don't want anyone thinking I'm racist but I just don't think a black man can be the President because they don't have the proper background and history."
"Yes, I'm very afraid too. It's not their fault, of course. One can't help one's breeding but facts are facts."
"But if you say one word of criticism it's all 'Racist this!' and 'Racist that!' and no one wants to hear the truth."
"Amen to that! We've lost our way in this country and we've got to get it back on track."
"It all started when they took prayer out of school. Morals went right out the window! Did you call the police on the woman sunning herself yet?"
"Yes, parading around in that thong. I saw some boys peeking through the fence being corrupted by her body. She can't walk around like that when families live in the neighborhood. It's just not decent! That woman is sick."
From renowned pervert, Auguste Renoir
"You told me she was a liberal artist so that explains it all. It’s this liberal world we live in! You remember our visit to the Kimbell museum don’t you?"
"I'll never forget it! Displaying pornography like it was art! And small children running through there! Disgraceful!"
"And they have the nerve to call themselves ‘family friendly’. That’s not something I want my grandchildren to see! It would rape their morals, it would."
"Children are not safe nowadays. Everything is so permissible! I’m lucky my Johnny turned out OK. He just returned from Afghanistan and he’s shooting all the neighborhood pets but that’s just a phase he’s going through and we’re all doing our best to pretend he’s OK."
"That’s how children turn out when raised by a good family. I’ve always been proud of your boy and the fine killing machine he has become in order to keep us safe. Sometimes I think war is the only thing we have left to keep us moral."
"Amen to that! But I’ll sure be glad once we get all the bad people and liberals killed so we can finally relax. There’s just too many people asking too many questions running around."
"Kill them all. That’s the only thing they understand."
The Irish isles do not speak to me with her blanket of grey gloom upon her waters, reflecting the eyes of her beholden villagers, but they sure do sing, in a voice haunting and clear.
Ondine (ahn-deen) is a Selkie, a creature of the sea who if she cries seven tears upon land can never return. The tears can be of joy or pain, they all count in the end. A fallen tear cannot be undone.
Sometimes, the myth of life is more true than the facts of life.
I tire of the world and the weariness of wondering. Heavy are the truths I know but cannot speak. Truth is but the gateway of love.
Unexpected hope comes in a fisherman's net but grappling hooks of the past reach out to tear it away. And old demons rush to whisper in the ear, "Hope is not meant for you."
But the tears have fallen and the commitment made, wedding her forever to happiness or despair.
What is life but a slow surrender...to love or to hate.
Somewhere along the line, your dad had one of these.
Is there anything more taboo on the face of the planet than male sexual desire? If a woman walks down the street nude, we applaud. If a male does it we shout, "Somebody shoot that sick son-a-bitch!" And though this may be a man's world, it's a woman's life and the male sex is in a constant mode of covering this up. See guys, if you really are superior you don't have to prove it.
Sort of like Obama firing McChrystal, it's an act of insecurity, trying to prove he's the boss by standing up to his employee. But I digress.
Western hypocrisy forces us into the position that demonizing male sexuality is somehow "moral". Drive down the street and see a woman pressing her bare breasts against the living room window and you're a "peeping tom". That is actual legislation in some rural places in the south, they are so moral.
Then there's the absurdity that Playboy exploits women, when the reality is just the opposite. And it just keeps getting sillier and sillier in our propaganda to one another. We are a nation brought to our knees by one semi-exposed breast on TV ("How am I supposed to explain women have breasts to my children??!"), outraged to the core we were.
Thanks Janet. Teenagers are wanting to have sex now because of you.
Of course, raping Middle Eastern countries for their resources doesn't bother us one whit. You know you're moral when you can blow up children and feel good about it! But I digress.
Supporting this makes you a patriot and family oriented
And now the Silly Sex Charade has hit my own backyard. Arlington is considering an "exlusion zone" in its entertainment district that includes the Cowboy's new stadium. The ordinance would state that anyone convicted of a prostitution crime in the last two years - pimps and johns as well - who enters this special zone of morality will be arrested. Sometimes you just can't make this shit up.
The police chief is selling this farce with his moral boner completely erect. "It's a pretty creative and innovative way to deal with one of the oldest problems on earth," the chief fairly giggled. That problem, of course, is people being ashamed of their sex and needing to criminalize others' so as to make theirs somehow more proper.
Sort of like making pot illegal and alcohol legal so one set of drug users can set themselves up as more holy than another set of drug users. Jesus, that's dumb. But I digress.
Alcohol causes literally twenty times the deaths of all illegal drugs combined.
The police clown was also quick to assure this has nothing to do with the Super Bowl coming here in the next few months. And he's not completely without a heart. Comrade Chief says if you can prove you are there for a legitimate reason - "going to work, seeing a doctor or meeting an attorney" - you will actually be allowed to do that. Let's hope you have your papers in order or it's the gulag for you!
Of course, if you are a murderer or a rapist or a thieving investment banker or a deadbeat like Tom Hicks, Arlington will greet you with open arms! You some fine folks! But if you got a blow job outside the approved dating rituals of our society then by God it's the hoosegow for you! Yes, this is the plan to keep Arlington's entertainment district "clean". I'm laughing as I type this.
Thank God he's protesting our morals!
[Comrade Clown] said people who have been convicted of a prostitution related offense, even in other cities, within the past two years will be notified about the exclusionary zone and given a map that shows the boundaries and a list of reasons they would be permitted to visit the area.
What Der Kampf failed to mention is how it would be enforced. I'm sure a branding with a scarlet "A" wasn't far from their twisted little minds. Or maybe some roadblocks to check everyone's papers as they enter this "family-oriented" zone (they've done it before for insurance even though they have an online database of who is covered and who is not.) Yes, folks, these people live among us, actually thinking they're good and normal.
Repression is not the answer to sex. Never has been, never will be. Repression isn't the answer to anything.
The JoyRider was the best there ever was. He'd started out small, looking for easy targets and hopping into anything he could. But his appetite was always for more. Anyone could joy ride an unlocked car, but the greater the challenge the greater the satisfaction. He worked his way up to luxury sedans and finally to the exotics, the most difficult of all. Never had he a car of his own, but he sure did enjoy riding other's!
But something else got stolen along the way.
To keep up with the ever increasingly sophisticated security measures he had to devote more and more of his time and money to learning to disarm his prey, teaching himself computer software and how to spot a set up. Once he'd reached the stratosphere of the exotics cars, the thought of moving back down never occurred to him. The JoyRider had to have them and the idea of defeat was wholly unacceptable.
"This feeling is like no other! I can wreck it, piss on it or throw it away and none of it comes back to me. This is the Ultimate Toy, and no one can buy it! You might be a billionaire Mr. Ferrari Owner but you'll never have the rush I've got now in your car. HAHAHAHAHA!"
Can't catch me, coppers!
He'd never retain the cars for any reason. Never sold them or used them in another crime as so often is the case with stolen vehicles. No, he was just out for the thrill kill. Anything beyond that would tie him down, destroy him. Wring the fun out of it and move on. That was the secret to his longevity.
Once, for a period of time he'd been stumped by new security measures. He felt God was turning against him, as if he was falling into a deep, dark hole he'd never climb out of. The panic was such he contemplated suicide at the looming emptiness of his life coming to swallow him. After that, the JoyRider knew there was no turning back. Finally, he broke through, rejoicing at the return of his thrill, never realizing what had truly been stolen: his life.
"I can't believe everyone doesn't do this. Hey pal, you really think you're getting a Porsche in your lifetime? Wake up and smell the oil! And the chicks I get in this thing! And they like it even better when you tell them it's stolen! Yeehaaaw!"
One day, his body gave out from all the years of nervous exhaustion and blind commitment. He lay in bed, his mind dreaming of cars stolen and ones yet to steal but he had not the strength to perform. Suddenly it hit him: he'd never have a car of his own. He never learned enough to make the car payments necessary and all his available money had been spent on devices to enable his joy riding ways. Over the years his friends had told him to stop, to settle down before it's too late. So he carved them out of his life one by one.
OK, so this Porsche didn't turn out so well...
Coughing like clockwork, trapped in his bed, he found himself at the bottom of that deep, dark hole after all. But this he knew for sure: if he ever got any strength back, first thing he was going to do was steal another car.
"Why should I stop? Why should I lie here without anything to drive when everybody else is out driving around? What good does it do me to do without? I just want to live, like anyone else would! Where's the harm in that? I never want to waste my life - ever!"
I was there when he stole that car, this time trying to sell it to for a way of getting one of his own. But the sale was to an undercover cop and they dragged him away screaming and terrified into the night. I don't know what happened after that, I can't imagine it was anything good. The JoyRider just wanted to keep running forever, looking for salvation in vehicles not his own.
Most people are wildly myopic (and thereby savage):
"Look at them rocks down there at the bottom of this cliff, Elroy. Ain't them kewl?"
"Sure is, Elmer. Sher would like to see 'em up close and personal like."
"Me too. But you knows what them nose-it-all sez: you can't not no go jumpin' off no thousand foot cliff lessen it kill ya."
"Soun's like bullshit to me! We don't need no outsiders tellin' us what's what!"
"Some folks just gotta go 'round tellin' others whats to do and hows to think, stikkin' their uppity noses in other peeple’s bidness!"
"I jess don't get them folks, Elmer. An' I ain't gonna stand for it no more!"
"Me's neither!"
Then Elmer and Elroy jump off the cliff, mocking in their victory.
"Hey Elroy, you dead?"
"Not me! How 'bout you, Elmer?"
"I be good too!"
"Them lyin' bastards! I knew it!"
And those were their last words before hitting the rocks and losing their battle with "nonexistent" objective reality. Always good to thin the herd though.
This isn't reality because we already determined it can't happen
I love Ed Wallace, an ex-car dealer, ex-rock-n-roller cum journalist. He is someone who fact checks and is highly meticulous in the facts he presents. Later, if he finds out he was wrong, he owns up to it, because getting it right is what it's all about to him (though we'll have to see if he goes all the way down the line with that!). His interpretation of said facts I don't always agree with but it is kind of funny watching him struggle along the path to truth. And in his Sunday column he discovered a bitter pill of reality: people are full of shit!
He titled the column Incapable of Rational Thought and it gave me the most satisfying laugh I've had in a long time. It states in part:
Take the British Petroleum oil gusher at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico. The Office of Minerals Management Services is responsible for overseeing items like offshore drilling. And yes, we now know that the OMMS authored a document covering just such a disaster back in May of 2000, which correctly predicted that it would be almost impossible to control because of the well's great depth.
Here is one prophecy from that report: "Spills in deep water may be larger, due to the high production rates associated with deep water wells and the length of time it could take to stop the source of pollution."
And yet we did nothing to prepare for this disaster -- other than correctly forecast it.
It is also true that, as early as 2003, numerous highly respected economists were warning that the American consumer's personal debt load was rising too quickly. Others correctly warned that the nation's housing market was in bubble territory and likely to cause serious damage to the financial system when it popped.
Nobody listened.
Brooksley Born, head of the Commodities Futures Trading Commission from August 1996 to June 1999, wanted to regulate derivatives. She correctly foresaw the incredible damage those insurance contracts could do to the financial system and tried to prevent it. Yet Born was told to sit down and shut up by Alan Greenspan, Robert Rubin and Larry Summers; and to top that off, then-Senator Phil Gramm slammed her position repeatedly during Congressional Hearings on the matter.
The question we should be asking is this: Why were those few people who got the crises right -- in time to defuse them -- ruined and consigned to obscurity? More important, why are those who were completely blind to the crises that were coming our way still in a position of power or influence? In a nutshell, "Why is Larry Summers back in the Obama Administration calling the shots in Washington, and the vast majority of Americans don't know that Brooksley Born could have saved the financial system 13 years ago if anyone had just listened to her?"
Why has deep-water oil drilling been fantastically successful, with one major exception -- which Washington forecast would come one day, but didn't force any company to come up with a workable and realistic plan for reacting to such a disaster?
Why was Ben Stein on TV every week, even while the financial system was starting to melt down, wrong on every last position he took, and yet he's still gainfully employed as a pundit? Or Ben Bernanke, who -- even after Bear Sterns collapsed -- maintained that the financial problem would be contained and our future was bright?
Who Ordered This Mess?
...Yes, it is us. We are the problem, because we hear what we want to hear.
We didn't want to hear about derivatives problems in the late nineties, because the economy was doing too well. We never thought about oil disasters in the Gulf of Mexico, because we wanted the oil and the jobs so badly and needed gas prices to come down. We didn't want to hear about a housing bubble, because so many people owned homes and our own home equity was building so quickly. We didn't want to talk about Wall Street's questionable practices because our personal portfolios were doing fine. And we keep reciting the mantra of "less government regulation" -- even as we see all around us the damage that such financial laissez-faire has caused.
We have delivered to ourselves the government we have demanded. We must be incapable of rational thought, because we reject those who try to convince us otherwise.
Good children believe what they are told!
Yup, the world is littered with Elmers and Elroys, pied pipers of happy illusion. And it continues on, of course. We don't want to hear our wars are evil, that our children are killed and marred in vain and that we destroy in vain. We don't want to hear our system of greed robs us and our children of any possible life or future. We don't want to hear there's any other path to life than the one we're on. Change just sounds so painful.
But change is coming whether we like it or not. No one likes putting gas in the tank - until it runs dry! Facing facts only makes life less painful. We can keep our eyes closed and keep conning ourselves as to what reality is but we will find that fate more horrific than possibly imagined. We are not on a sustainable path. We can face it, change directions and live. Now you tell me, isn't that a truth we want?
"Just because you say the words doesn't mean I should believe you!" She sat bent over in her chair, married to her book, selfishly absorbed.
"But I need you! I'm not making this up."
His words did not suit her and she was a suit-me-or-die kinda person. "You're just dreaming!"
"These feelings are more real than anything I've ever felt in my life!" groaned the voice from the next room, aching for her.
"The more you speak the more I hate you!"
She flipped another page, furious at his interruptions and wishful thinking. Why did she have to be burdened with the desires of others? It's their desire, let them live with it.
So he silenced himself, trapped in hell's hell. The one person he needed drew more distant with every sound he made, any sign of his life estranging her beyond his reach. But how to get what he needed without living?
He struggled mightily to retain virtue in her eyes, biting his tongue, hoping to become worthy of her. Yet his involuntary screams irked her to no end, pulling her away from the book's escape.
"You and your exquisite pain!" she griped, disgusted by his wretched state. Suddenly, she wished he would die.
He'd been better off if he had.
***
The next day the police took her statement. "You refused to see the man no matter how much he asked for you?"
"I was busy reading!"
"But it's your job, ma'am."
"I'm not doing something just because he wants me to. I won't stand for him wanting me!"
"Nurse Retched, he very much needed you if nothing else. The traction machine very nearly ripped his spine in two and now he may never walk again. If that's not needing you I don't know what is."
"That's not my fault. I didn't put him on that machine. He put himself on. I'm not responsible for his life or stupid ass decisions. Really!"
"But it's why you're here, to help. Is that not so?"
"I'm here to do what I want. What can't I read a book? Are you telling me that's a crime now?"
For another good hour the conversation continued in fruitless circles, she only wishing to escape back to her book all the more.
***
"He's dead. I don't understand it," sighed the attending nurse. She always hated being in the room with a dead body in case the spirit passed violently. "All he had to do was press the buzzer and I would have come. Why wouldn't he ask for help? Did he just not believe in me at all? I'll never understand people! They can be so frustrating!"
When Nurse Retched came to visit his grave she spat on it, hoping it would burn a hole right through the casket. That miserable bastard and his moronic decisions ruined my life! If only I'd never met him! She'd lost her job and career, a pariah in the nursing community. And the police were still considering filing charges.
A man's voice spoke in her ear. "If you had believed him, would your life be the miserable mess it is now?"
Terrified to the heart, she spun around to find no one there.
"That bastard! He haunts me from the grave! Now even my book won't provide me with refuge. Nothing will...will it?"
Across the way, two impassioned lovers kissed in the honest daylight of the sun, holding fast to their future.
That we pervert reality saying love is an illusion and money is real.
That we pervert reality saying peace will consume us but warring saves us.
That we pervert reality saying there's profit to poisoning our paradise.
Truth is we all know our dirty little secret we love to lie about so gleefully: we really have no intention of having any future. And it's so much fun making up "facts" on how everything's going to turn out just great no matter how irresponsible we might be. After all, we've always been like this. Why change now?
Why indeed!
The horrible, gruesome answer lies below, ripping off mankind's facade of really giving a shit about anything. Watch if you dare!
The red area represents where the lie-brary will be. Blue represents Central Expressway and the offending edifice will be constructed between Mockingbird and Yale.
Dallas is just a hellhole when it comes to Presidents. Oh sure, publicly we're sorry about the Kennedy assassination - an assassination guaranteeing we'll never get another true liberal in the White House barring the apocalypse. But you also hear the joke in these parts that November 23, 1963 was "the day Kennedy got it through his head we didn't want him here." Yup, when God was handing out class he skipped right over Big D.
And for our unrepentant attitude, we are now branded as home to the greatest American traitor in history along with building a multi-million dollar monument to said traitor. History will not be kind to us. We will be seen as disloyal and dishonorable.
Southern Methodist University is my favorite campus in DFW (I have attended many great events there) - but is also the one most snotty and soul-selling. Despite protests from the faculty, historians and pastors, the powers that be at SMU clamored for the lie-brary like a three-year-old crying for a lollipop. Throwing up their skirts like a two dollar whore, SMU railroaded the purchase of this property just east of the main campus. I guess I'll just have to close my eyes as I drive by it when I wish to visit the great Meadows Museum or Mcfarlin Auditorium.
I do have some time before the horror comes to life:
Now back when I lived in the armpit that is Amarillo, I had to pass by a campaign sign every day on my way to work for someone I knew to be a scumbag. I felt better, though, after I drew devil's horns and a goatee on it. Most therapeutic! So I got to thinking what I could do in this instance if I had the money: I'd buy my own billboard by the campus and seeing it would soothe my chafing soul.
I'd also make it electronic so it could be updated on a whim's notice and I'd start a website - say bushbillboard.com for instance - where people could suggest quotes and slogans to be displayed. I have a feeling that would be most enjoyable! (I'd also secretly buy a second one in case they rezoned the first one. I know how these people operate.)
So here are a few suggestions off the top of my head, feel free to add your own!
"I Fucked Up America!"
Come see how at my lie-brary!
Brought to you by the 21st century's #1 Anti-Christ!
Nobody cared until Ester wrecked. Now everyone's getting on their high horse as if they know what's best for her instead of me, her mother! How do you people expect to know what's best for my family unless you are of my family? No one can love my daughter like I do, you interlopers don't care at all.
Akeem came out of his house very much angry at the sight of the two women with their wrecked vehicle in the middle of the street. "You women have no right to be in this neighborhood! It used to be all men. You need to move away and everything will be fine!"
"My grandmother lived here long before you ever did so shut your mouth!"
"I want you gone! You women make me feel insecure and doubt my manliness."
"Whose fault is that, old man?"
Smithers showed up waving his accusing finger. "You have my dog! You have my dog! Give it back you cantankerous woman!"
"I'm keeping your dog as security. Anything happens to me and mine and the dog gets it!"
"You keep him prisoner in your yard. He suffers in all innocence."
"You threw a brick through my window. It's your own damn fault I took it. I'll treat it like I damn well please. It's only through an understanding of mutual distrust and blackmail can we achieve peace."
The cat doesn't want the dog back
Officer Bob pulled up shaking his head. "You can't let your 12-year-old drive your car on the street, madam."
"You sexist bastard! You wouldn't say that if it had been a boy driving. You men all stick together."
"The sex of the child has no bearing. She has no legal right to do what she did."
"Don't give me your legal bullshit! It's all men in this neighborhood and my daughter and I have to survive the best way we can. You're a man, you wouldn't know anything about that!"
Smithers sauntered doggedly to the policeman. "Officer! I cannot talk to this woman. Tell her to give me my dog back!"
The officer sighed. "The only way to work that out is between yourselves. But we can council and sign some papers that resolve nothing so I can play the impartial hero."
Ester's mother vowed never to back down ever for any reason. "My daughter must learn to drive if she is to live in this man's world of yours. You've picked on us long enough! Never again! We live by different rules than mere reality."
Middle East piece!
Jesus wandered up the road, his head bowed, grieved by the contention. Looking at the bruised and battered daughter, he stated his concern. "Dear lady, your daughter might have been killed. What is the future in that?"
"Don't bring your religious crap in here! Religion is the cause of all our problems. You can't save anybody with your stupid propaganda. God is already on our side."
Jesus knew her propaganda before she posed it. "I offer you love so that you may live. Apart, we die. Together, we live. Can any of you truly tell me now what you are doing is living?"
An uneasy silence blanketed the group, trapped by their desire to be loved - the one and only issue of mankind's history. Shamed by Jesus and his words of truth, they raised their eyes to look into his, speaking in unison: "If that is love then give us death!"
Gas wells are worked on 24/7 until drilling is complete.
Not much to see when completed.
Not far from the street! Orange netting marks a pipe outlay.
Frac wells drill sideways and use millions of gallons
This is what it looks like when a gas pipeline explodes
