A Letter Of Hate, 1886

"So it's you, the whore of Babylon. You who opens her legs not for love but for earthly profit and the security of brick houses. You who sells her dreams for a nickel and social homage. My one wish is to stick a knife in God and gut him like the pig you are for making me need you.

"What did I do but build monuments of despair, trading quarterly profits for a soul. Now I've wrecked even my business as I did not have you to believe in me. I burned it to the ground, every last cent of worth destroyed in the ashes of hopelessness. Yet you carry on as if the sun and the moon and stars do not exist. It's for strangers' love unmet you live.

"Letters of love I wrote you both sent and unsent. Where were you? If love is not your name then I send this letter of hate. I said I'd wait a lifetime and the prophecy has come true. As true lovers walk hand in hand exchanging vows, we live in armed camps of opposition defending our deaths. You sent assassins in the night to keep word of my love from getting through. I was left to wrestle devils in the darkness as you climaxed in ecstasy.

"Day by day the weight of the world wore me to the bone, breaking my will. I crawled like a dog through the streets looking for scraps of love to survive. When a bone would break, it healed back twisted and bent, never the same. You were never there to help, never a friend. I was left to wolves in love's clothing hounding me in my moments of greatest pain when I needed the greatest rest. Would you rather the wild-eyed animals had eaten me alive?

"Just as you swallowed the poison of your lover's lies you left me to drink foul waters of the world. How I fought back the thirst that drove me to such bitter intake! How I prayed for death each time my lips touched the odorous rivers of discontent filling my nostrils with repulsion. In the daylight I dare not even move lest my breath give me away to your bombs of silence and arrows of fury. How is it you came to believe my death could solve your problems?

"Only your presence makes me whole and complete. How can half a man ever win a race? In your eyes I saw the ages of time past and present. Mountains turned to molehills as clouds called out our name to climb aboard and gaze upon the heavens as dreamers do. And then we'd say: What of a world that does not serve love!

"Do not the angels weep at our lost oneness? Do not malcontents drive slanderous wedges to hold us to their fate? Have not our lives washed up on the shores of shipwrecked adventurers? Has not the light passed from your heart even as you must tip your hat in ruthless courtesy? Have you found treasure equal to our fortune of feelings? Remember walking in the sand as the stars envied our brilliance? Oh that a small smile escapes me even in rough seas such as this...

"As I leave this earthly hell I wonder of you still. As blessings turn to curses and day passes into night the echoes of our laughter fade to black. Surely, it was the laughter that was real, not this fantasy pose to please the camera's unwavering lens. To whom can we explain the explosion of our love if never having experienced such joy? Some say such is not even possible! But you shall get your wish as the secret dies with me here in the bottom of this damp and ancient well lost since the time of Hebrew slaves.

"What fate shall you grant me upon learning my final utterance was your forbidden name? I shall not even write it lest it brand me a fool for the ages. So it is pride gets the last laugh. But I remember your face - defying the gods of worldly cruelty to the end. I die with my arms outstretched, my heart cracking and longing tears burning into the floor. And now with my final breath, I say your name in grace. Goodbye, and fare thee well in God's mercy."

Joseph Lloyd Wright, Jr., 1886. Both morally and financially bankrupt, written with a literal rope around his neck who promptly kicked the chair out from underneath to hang himself in finality.

Why Should I?

"Why should I?"

She looked longingly at the phone in a completely silent house. Her husband Joe had gone off to another out of town seminar, both the kids were tied up with school activities and she was left free as a bird - something she both craved and avoided. The feeling reminded of her when she was a teenager coming home from school before her parents got back from work. What a wonderful window of freedom that was! The safety of a home but none of the chains.

She'd been having a lot of teenage feelings lately, making her wonder who she was. She had no doubt as to why: it was her coworker Robert. The more she talked with him the more she wanted to talk with him. The vacuums in her life were at last gratefully and joyously fulfilled. But like any vacuum finally exposed, the air is drawn into it in an uncontrollable fashion. And she too was reeling out of control, old desires enflamed anew.

But was it real? Were her feelings real? Was life real? The only thing she knew for sure was real was her marriage contract; signed, sealed and delivered - just as she was. Could she really be the person she felt she was when she was around him? "How would he react if I call him? Would he be as excited as I am? Is this his fantasy too? I so want to live!"

But why do what she wanted? She'd built her life on not doing what she wanted - in the hopes that guaranteed her having what she wanted. But is life's promise true? At this point in her life that seemed pretty farfetched, the daydreams of children. And yet...she sat frozen by the phone, nervous and excited, hesitating because she was lost. What an incredible feeling! As if her entire life depended on making that one call; every fear, hope and dream wrapped up into one.

But why risk it? Why risk her marriage and family? Why risk anything when you have everything? If she could have things her way, she'd stay in this moment forever, sitting in one world while on the edge of another. But the second world slipped away with every passing tick. Deep inside she buried the voice of the question that bothered her the most: What's the risk of not calling?

--------------------------------

The knock at the hotel door sprang his heart to life. Anticipation, expectation, ejaculation - he had it all planned. Sweet release, thank God Almighty! The fantasies boiling inside him for so many years had finally come to a head. His burning imagination had been stifled and suffocated as he browsed through ad after ad of women without sexual prejudice. The secret compartments he kept from his wife kept his marriage aloft but they were also retaining water, sinking his ship. This situation must be addressed!

Walking on air, he answered the door and the beauty did not disappoint. Briefly he thought about all the Bible passages on adultery to which he had been so proud to proclaim fidelity. But he'd always wanted a Latina girl and her picture struck him like a thunderbolt. He rationalized he was doing it for the benefit of his marriage, that if he could satisfy himself with her he'd not have to look for it with his wife anymore. Yeah, that's the story!

She smiled with her flowing black hair tossed provocatively to one side. From top to bottom he saw nothing but elation. And then she spoke. "Hello, Joe. I hear you've been a bad boy." Yes, she's perfect! She understands! No long drawn out conversations reasoning out the whys and wherefores that could drain him of desire. She accepted him as he was, right then and there. Suddenly, his wife seemed like an ogre of the worst sort, dark and judgemental, waiting with a bloody axe lest he step a foot out of line.

The Latina humiliated and punished him to perfect arousal, making a full confession of his life. Though aching to do so, he didn't want to climax and end the experience. If he could have things his way, he'd stay in that room with her forever, exalting in one world while living in another. But soon he'd drop from this high orbit and painfully crash back to earth with melted wings. If only life could be lived!

Afterwards, she finished the service with her newbie client so clearly aching for a parting conversation. She'd heard a thousand variations of it over the years. Stupid men trapped in lies of false morality and undeserved social status. She wondered what would happen if somehow magically the view from her little corner of the world could be made known to everyone. How would anyone be able to keep up their lies then?

She knew that was the true reason her profession was outlawed. She read on her client's face the dawning of realization he'd stepped outside the lines of both the law and proper public behavior. And that it felt good. She could see part of him still resisting, trying not to get sucked into this new way of life that filled his aching, empty voids. She began with asking the standard question without trying to look bored - though she was - and not be bored by the answer - though she would be.

"Tell my wife? What are you, nuts? You don't understand, she's very rigid. She can't do anything her parents don't approve of. Could you imagine trying to talk about my being spanked in front of her parents!"

"Would you like that?"

"Yes, I would now I think about it! How liberating! Could you imagine the look on their faces!"

"Then do it."

"No, no. I couldn't do that to them. They'd probably have a heart attack or something. I just gotta keep it all inside and not let anybody know. You're a godsend. You're not like them. God, I admire you."

Yeah, yeah. She'd heard it all before. None of these losers ever wants to fess up. She'd bet a month's salary his wife would love every minute of spanking his ass raw and putting him in the corner. Who are these people who always have to pretend to be perfect? It had taken him over 40 years to finally reach out. But he had a long, long way to go.

"So what are you going to do? Wait until another seminar comes before you can live?"

"No, I can see now I won't be able to wait that long. I'll need to see someone when I get back home."

"You realize of course sooner or later your wife will find out. You should go ahead and tell her what you want."

"Why should I? She could never be like you. She's a dead fish without hope of changing."

The woman of the world suspected otherwise. "You'd better hope you're right. Otherwise you're throwing away your life for no reason."

--------------------------------

"Honey," asked the wife of her famous husband, "whatever happened with that horrible report of the boy raped in the stadium locker room shower?"

He didn't bother to look up from the paper. Why should he for a matter dealt with and long dismissed from his mind? "Oh, I'm sure it was dealt with in the proper manner after I reported it."

"You mean you didn't follow up on it?"

"Why should I?"

The elderly woman paused, trained by a lifetime of spousal worship. She wanted to believe his soothing words - she meant to believe his assuring words - but deep inside the gears spit their teeth, snapping her well oiled machinery running to perfection for so many decades. Why now? How could this happen after all this time? Had she spent her whole life running away?

***

College football is mixture of fervent religion and high powered business. Mixing the two together creates a toxic cocktail that seduces both the heart and the mind. With its holy facade cherished and beloved by so many, it can very easily be sold as something it is not: a pure endeavor. The imagery of the noble college athlete is a powerful one: a good and hearty soul who uses his physical prowess to benefit his intellectual capabilities thanks to a college benefactor creating a win/win scenario for everyone.

Well, it's lovely to think so anyway.

The truth is, everyone uses and gets used in a system rife with corruption. The Big Lie is one's athletic graduation rate signifies a moral indicator of one's fidelity to truth and honesty. Do that, and you cannot be questioned in a world of hypocrites. Better yet, you then don't need to share revenues (to make an honest game of it) with the athletes you mercilessly exploit with busy game, practice and conditioning schedules. No, like a tape worm left unchecked, the lie lives on inside hollowing out all who let it live.

***

As a legendary college football coach, his graduation rate far exceeded the norm, proving his integrity towards winning. He was not a sellout looking for game day victories above all else but rather one who kept his bearings and perspective in line. As proof the system worked, he was often pointed to as an example of all that's right in the world of collegiate sports. See? One can maintain one's integrity and still win!

And he too fell in love with - and became possessed by - this same manufactured image.

As time passed, to be called the "moral man" pressured him further down the road of living up to this image regardless of cost. Then one day, this 84 year old man after a lifetime of praise found himself ripped of his false face as he tried to float by on the support of hardliners holding on to his old image.

After hearing of his assistant coach raping a ten year old boy, he chose to close his eyes. After maintaining his image by reporting the molestation to the university administration, he quickly retired the affair in his mind in the secret hopes the administrators also would hold faith with keeping the moral image alive. His bet paid off. The story was stifled and kept in house with no outside reporting. Whew!

Two Penn State officials, Senior Vice President Gary Schultz and Athletic Director Tim Curley, surrendered on charges that they failed to alert police to the complaint about [alleged child rapist] Sandusky.

Schultz and Curley are also charged with lying to the state grand jury that indicted Sandusky. Both stepped down from their posts Sunday, Curley taking a temporary leave and Schultz retiring. They appeared Monday in a Harrisburg courtroom, where a judge set bail at $75,000.

State police Commissioner Frank Noonan said that although [Penn State coach] Paterno may have met his legal requirement to report suspected abuse by Sandusky, “somebody has to question about what I would consider the moral requirements for a human being that knows of sexual things that are taking place with a child.”

He added: “I think you have the moral responsibility, anyone. Not whether you’re a football coach or a university president or the guy sweeping the building. I think you have a moral responsibility to call us.”

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It's never easy facing the truth. But the truth is still love.

A Short History Of Now (To Educate Tea Partiers)

As I've said before, I love the bitterness the Occupy movement causes in both the left and the right. Burned out Sixties protesters hate it because it reminds them of their failure to cause any substantial change. Establishment folks (left, right and middle) hate any sort of uncontrollable activity because that always has the potential to reflect poorly on them having giving up on the idea of change. And naturally the people out there committing the crimes don't want that pointed out no matter how much those crimes might be condoned by the greater population.

It's a mad, mad, mad, mad world!

Moments into a speech before volunteers here Wednesday evening, [true consumer advocate] Elizabeth Warren was interrupted by a Tea Party supporter who hurled a gender-based epithet at the Senate candidate. The man, who said he'd been unemployed since February 2010, objected to Warren's expressed affiliation with the frustrations of Occupy Wall Street, and argued that the Tea Party has been protesting Wall Street excess for longer than the nascent global movement.

...Speaking in a packed VFW hall, Warren went on to address his question about her association with Occupy Wall Street. "I've been protesting what's been going on on Wall Street for a very long time," she said, but added that the movement has its own independent agenda and will proceed along its own course.

"Yeah, so has the Tea Party," the man said, before losing his cool.

"Well, if you're the intellectual creator of that so-called party," he said, "you're a socialist whore. I don't want anything to do with you." The crowd shouted him down as he added that Warren's "boss," presumably referring to the president, was "foreign-born." He then attempted to storm out through a side door. Finding it locked, he retreated out the back of the VFW hall instead.

Now that's a conflicted soul! (And there's nothing worse than storming off into a locked door! HAHAHA!)

But let's see if we can untangle that soul, shall we? (I'll keep it simple considering our intended recipient)

First off we have two major political parties in this country:

Republicans: Their job is to loot the country down to its last nickel. With a vastly bloated military budget reaching its limit these wild-eyed boys are now salivating at getting their hands on the massive social security funds and drain them dry too.

Democrats: Their job is to appease and enable the Republicans, thus allowing themselves to appear innocent, above it all, and fighting the good fight. It's also their job to take the blame for the Republicans' crimes.

Since 1980 without aberration, this behavior has been the one constant in this country. But like with any addiction, one has to up the dosage to get the same high. Whoever thought we'd be looking back at the Savings and Loan scandal of the late 80's with the warm and fuzzy sigh of spilt milk? Heck, that's a day's crime on Wall Street nowadays. But let us cut to the current century.

In the year of our Lord 2000 A.D. we put an anti-Christ into office to lead this once great country of ours. This Greed Nazi had only lust in his soiled, fruitless heart for pillaging and plunder. But while most people were only noticing the rape of Iraq for its resources, reality was this same sort of pillaging was going on here on our own shores for our resources. Greed, folks, has no ethics or friends, only past, present and future victims.

As always, doom came gift wrapped in sweet lies. In an effort claiming to want to "make everyone a homeowner", a subtle but large scale operation was kicked off to squeeze the entire net worth out of the middle class like a teenager's fresh zit. And where would all that money go? Why to the top, of course. Ultimately, it's economic law that money always flows up (A law never mentioned, or is disputed, by the swindlers, i.e. if someone disputes this you know they are a swindler!)

In a previous post I went over leveraging, how something as little as 5 dollars can control 100 dollars worth of investments. In this scenario a person can increase his profits twenty fold - and conversely increase his losses by the same factor. Leveraging has been around forever and is a common and standard practice. The example I just gave is a 20:1 leverage. Investment banks at the time of the housing bubble were operating at a 30:1 ratio.

As a Japanese warlord, I would pass a law that if someone caused harm and later claimed they were "only trying to help", I would have their tongue cut out. Bad enough you fucked me but then you have to lie about it? But so began the great housing bubble of the 2000's. A supposedly grand gesture to engender homeownership (who could be against that?) but what was in reality a scheme of such galling and evil proportions no one would believe it could actually happen (sort of like concentration camps of yore).

First, a huge and easy supply of cheap money was provided. This was the fuel for the fire. Like crack cocaine, this money was offered out by dealers looking to prey on the weak minded - of which there are many (did I mention we willingly put an anti-Christ into office?) Regardless of how the addicts' lives may end up, the dealer gets his profits up front with his commission on the mortgage loan. And then for being so successful for lining up victims he gets a big bonus! Money was just exploding through the system.

But as the mortgage brokers were congratulating themselves for flying first class, investment bankers were congratulating themselves on buying the plane. Knowing the massive money supply pumped into the system would create a bubble for a period of time, the bankers made hundreds of billions through their leveraging scam - with the potential for trillions more. With everyone able to "afford" a home now (loans handed out regardless of the ability to pay them back), home prices went up, the average person's net worth went up, loans increased, and the stage was set for a giant crash.

Myopia is the grease that turns the gears in this scheme. The homeowner only sees his value increasing, the broker only sees his fees increasing, the bankers only see the market going up and up. What this willful ignorance provides is the ability to later claim to be "Shocked! Shocked!" when it all comes crashing down. "Gosh darn, whoever could have foreseen this happening?"

Well, the fuckers who engineered it did. Our current economic disaster is no accident. And yet, no one goes to jail because so few among us are actually innocent - that's the beauty of mass seduction.

When the bubble burst we had two choices to stabilize the banking industry: give all our resources to the banks or give all our resources to the homeowners to make good on their loans. Once committed, there is no going back. Unfortunately, we made the wrong decision and the die is cast no matter what moves are made now. Toxic derivative bets exceed the entire world GDP many times over. Ain't leveraging grand??

Politicians are like magicians: they profit from misdirection. When Joe Homeowner woke up and found himself under water with no hope, pols know that guy is going to be angry, most likely irresponsible, and looking for blood. Republican elites knew all along about the housing bubble (Just as Bin Laden knew the 9/11 hijackers were on a suicide mission but not all the lowly hijackers did) and thus were prepared to deflect blame at the first possible opportunity. Dear God, what would they do without the Democrats?

Getting back to our angry tea partier, whose group started out protesting the banking bailouts, this man should be standing and applauding Elizabeth Warren who has done more and advocated more to reel in banks than anyone else in government. If only our President shared her convictions. But being the sucker that he is, being "broadminded" and "practical" and reaching across the table to the Greed Nazis, he listened to his Wall Street cronies who told him: badmouth the banks all you want but give them all the money!

But since this a man alleged to be on the left, he is susceptible to being labeled a "socialist", a 21st century communist vampire. The term ‘socialist’ to many people's minds means "Someone's going to take all my shit and give it to someone else for nothing!" The tea partier in the above story believes this narrative (for whatever reason) and thus concludes that since all his shit is gone it must have been taken by the socialists!

The reality is we have suffered from socialism of just that very description. Corporate socialism has taken - and continues to take - from one group to another while giving nothing in return. In criminal parlance that's called robbery. In the bent and twisted minds of our current belief system, it's called a necessity. The art of the lie that keeps this bleeding endlessly is to blame the folks who want to end it, to say that is the end of our American way.

Ah, how the fat cats do love and sponsor the tea partiers! They are like blind attack dogs taking down the evildoers' just accusers. It's like in Soviet Russia when victims of the purges would write Daddy Stalin to save them when in fact he was the man behind them pogroms. (When you see the Koch brothers, think of Stalin with an equally evil twin.) But now we see the difference between the Occupy movement and the tea party.

Keeping with the Soviet parallel, one can either be misguided by Daddy Stalin or one can see through Daddy Stalin. The deceived suffering masses blamed the purge victims for their ails just as we (unbelievably) blame the poor for ours. But how different would Russian history have been had the people woken up and Mussolini'd Stalin's ass? (They wouldn't be stuck with the highest suicide rate in the world for one thing). Our parallel would be for us to have the banks de-leverage themselves and pay back all the money even if it takes untold decades to do so, putting them in virtual permanent poverty. Sweet!

The Occupiers correctly see the only way out of our mess is through social justice. Justice is the cornerstone of any society and without it a nation unequivocally fails and rots to the core (Hi ancient Rome!). But the tea partiers are angry because they want to have their greed and eat too. Unfortunately, in the long run, that's an either/or situation - something we are about to find out in the most cruel, scarring, and unforgettable way in human history.

Want to know who's fucking you? You're fucking you if you don't stand for justice.

My Brilliant Second Career: DISH WASHER!

The great thing about our great American system is the gifted and talented cream always rises to the top and the lazy scum head to the bottom. All I got to say to that is: Hi, folks! It's me, scum!

In a free market, it's
all about your assets.

There's a reason we see Kim Kardashian living large and little folks sweating away in unnamed slavery until the merciful release of death. And that can only be because we worship truth and integrity above all. The invisible hand of capitalism unerringly guides our lives to a place of justice and equity without fail. In other words: if you're suffering it's because you DESERVE to suffer!

At least, that's what us good and responsible folk think.

If you get fucked, fired or fried, don't you be bitching! Go off in a corner and die nice and quiet like you should. If you was supposed to be livin' you WOULD be livin'! If you be dying it's because you SUPPOSED to be dying! Everyone start thinking they got the right to live no matter what the whole damn system goes to crap! Lincoln was wrong to take those chains off them slaves. He was an anarchist!

I hereby free you to earn minimum wage!

Good news here in the trenches, folks, is most people is good people and they don't mind dying for the greater good. God bless their diseased bodies and minds!

Now, used to be I was a so-called brilliant journalist before I saw the light of redemption. Ever since I was little I was told what a great writer I was. Boy, were they ever dumb! Before I knew any better I went out and became a star reporter and wrote about the Mayor running his company in an illegal manner by claiming his workers as independent contractors when in reality they were employees (this tactic saves companies large amounts of money). I got awards and everything for that.

Boy, am I laughing at those award folks now. They be all mixed up!

Next thing I know the editor calls me into his office and rightly FIRES my ass. Being without wisdom I asserted, "But I only printed the truth!" But the editor was guided by the hand of God (and the Mayor), replying, "Exactly! People don't want to hear the truth! We're here to make a profit, you moron!" Stubborn youth that I was I barked back, "I'm going to tell everyone you fired me for telling the truth!" "Go ahead!" he laughs. "It's the truth. No one wants to hear that shit!"

I'll tell you the truth as soon
as I'm through making it up.

Mr. Editor was so very right. Once word got out I was a truth-teller no one would hire me, a profit-killer. I felt just awful for my wayward and derelict ways. How was I contributing to the unquestionable greater good of corporate profits? Scum! Scum, I am!

Then someone told me I was free! That I live in the Land Of The Free! That all my poverty and lack of shelter was a blessing allowing me to finally pursue my passions. That's how things work in the Home of the Brave (If You Can Afford To Eat). Since I was obviously deluded by my passion for the truth I realized I must pursue what must be my true passions instead and thusly take my rightful place in society.

So I sat at home Googling pictures of Russian tennis stars and masturbating to my heart's content. I created a new resume as the professional masturbator that I was, ready to accept any and all offers of compensation. I thought to myself, "So that's why they call these Money Shots!" I have to admit at that point I felt a tad sheepish at not giving the system its due in making the world a better place for each and every one of us.

We've both been working on our forehand

But apparently, I aimed too high as the marketplace once again spoke in its unfailing wisdom. This career also was to be denied. Wandering cold, windy streets in my thin ragged jacket, coughing snot and musing upon whether or not the DART trains travel fast enough to induce death, I was saved as all good people are who accept shit. A fine Dallas Republican stopped his BMW and exercised the beauty of market forces, telling me: "Here you worthless fuck! Lick my car clean for a dollar!"

Halleluiah! I was reborn! A washer I be. Despite the fact I was picking bugs out of my teeth for days, I was deliriously happy to have at last found my place. I even called into Rush Limbo and he called my tale a "great American success story." Me! A success at last! Look, Ma! You gonna be proud, yes you is!

Soon, I started climbing the corporate ladder of success, scaling the heights from car licking to dish washing - indoors! Hard not to brag here (hate to engender jealousy among you NON-yuppies) but I've now fully arrived working for a MAJOR American corporation. Each morning my whole body just tingles as I put on my Official Denny's apron. THIS is what I call living!

The neighbors were suitably impressed as I
glowingly sauntered past with my mop bucket.

I hope you realize it's not my own horn I'm tooting here, but the greatness of the American system of rewarding honesty and hard work that has allowed me to come so far. First off, I'll have you know I'm not just a dishwasher. At Denny's my responsibilities are many. The whole kitchen must be cleaned from floor to ceiling, along with hauling in supplies from the trucks, bussing tables and most of all cleaning the bathrooms in a timely manner. As any executive can tell you, people of great import are required to wear many hats - mine just all happen to be paper.

But I don't want to gloss over any ugly realities. I had to work HARD to get where I am today. Industrial dish washing is not like loading up the washer at home, no sir! It's a constant barrage of dishes stacking up higher and higher as you shove them through nonstop hour after hour in escaping steam. Pedro, my mentor, laughed when he saw my scrawny white ass, thinking I could never make it in this rough and tumble world of scraping half eaten Grand Slams. But I showed him what I was made of!

And that's why this boy is living large! I can hardly repress the smile I feel every time I defecate indoors, remembering old times in the park having to squat and shoo away curious dogs. Renting 525 sq ft of matted carpet, I roam this single room like the king I am. And it only costs half my salary! That's the reward of hard work, folks.

Partying hard at Casa de Harry!

And benefits? Oh yeah, baby! The shop manager told me all about our great dental plan and handed me right off a FREE toothbrush. Whenever the roach guy comes to spray my place I always point out this grand freebie to him with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk (He pretends not to be impressed. Loser.)

All I got to say is: Thank You, Thank You, Thank You! Was lost but now I'm found. I realize some people still sadly play the fool. You should hear Jim, the overnight dish washer, always complaining and moaning, thinking he's a history teacher just because he did that for 25 years. God gave us talents, each and every one of us, and I for one am most grateful to be putting mine to good use!

Blue Angels 2011

They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks.
Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.

I can't stand the military. There, I said it. Any situation or person who demands I not think I simply have no use for and is a threat to my survival. Don't put your own limitations onto me. I ask you: is there any endeavor of mankind that isn't ultimately about either his desire for love or insecurity thereof? I think not.

Training for war

That said, I always get along with military people better than with the average civilian. People without self-awareness are reckless by nature but military training forces you to face yourself to a certain degree as opposed to the plastic princess without a clue. So when I go to an event of military worship, I'm generally uneasy with a lot of conflicted feelings.



On one hand I want to meet and greet with every military person there, scratch their surface and find out their story. True, I know how every story ends but hearing of the journey is a hunger I can never fully sate. On the other hand, the whole "Hooray for our side" bit makes me wince unbearably. We're all in this together, folks. Pretending otherwise is suicide. The Age of War has passed and yet we stubbornly refuse to let go.

Ah well, that sort of self elimination is Nature's way to purification.

Hawk Trainer

But when it comes to doing something with a high level of skill, there's always a moral component to that. Become out of touch with reality at 600 knots in close formation and you will make the news - and not in a good way. I'm interested in almost anyone who's a master at their craft. So despite the blind worship of a military air show, I love the professionalism on display along with, yes, the trinkets of war that explore the human mind.

"When I was 19, I did a guy in Laos from a thousand yards out. It was a rifle shot in high wind. Maybe eight or even ten guys in the world could have made that shot."

Martin Riggs, "Lethal Weapon"

I have a mountain of air show photos from over the years but I wanted to wait until I got some Blue Angel footage to start posting. Little did I know how hard that would be! Shooting while standing on a rickety chair in a gusty high wind with planes flying by at 1,000 mph across the sun on maximum zoom took some precision of my own. I easily lost over 50% of what I shot due to shakiness and, uh, putting my hand in front of the lens to shield me from the sun. Ouch!

Yes, it was VERY loud

Some air shows are more about vintage planes and I love those too. The Alliance show is more about modern aviation with American Airlines and Fed Ex having their commercial aircraft open for tours. It's a unique opportunity to see inside these beasts.







But of course, the big draw is the Blue Angels show and all that it entails. Here's a short Wiki on them:

The United States Navy's Navy Flight Demonstration Squadron, popularly known as the Blue Angels, was formed in 1946 and is currently the oldest formal flying aerobatic team. The squadron's six demonstration pilots currently fly the F/A-18 Hornet in more than 70 shows at 34 locations throughout the United States each year, where they still employ many of the same practices and techniques used in their aerial displays in 1946. Since their inception, the "Blues" have flown a variety of different aircraft types for more than 427 million spectators worldwide.

Here's a few shots I captured:













Click here to see the whole set

But the main thing I came for was the video. I don't know enough about tripods if they have the range to move up and down as necessary for capturing this kind of footage. Maybe I'll do some research and find out for next year. Until then, enjoy what I did get!

When The World Is Not Enough

[She'd reached the end of her rope. As a teenage girl she'd made her Checklist for Life, a list of all the things she needed in order to thrive and survive. But even having checked off every item on the list it made no difference for she had gotten them dishonestly. Old, fat, ugly and unwantable, she found herself trapped in a home and a life with a man she did not love - never loved - but had loved only the things he could give her.]

"...when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness.
So I got that goin' for me, which is nice."
Carl from "Caddyshack"

She rolled over on the plushly carpeted floor, one arm outstretched as if grasping onto the last few moments of life. Her eyes started to blur as she slipped from one world to the next. On the night stand an empty pill bottle betrayed her final despair. She was all out of love.

"You're too hard, God. You just don't understand...this planet is a hellhole, full of miserable people and miserable lives just waiting to pounce on you and tear you down...they never stop, get me out of here!...where can I go?...I had to do it...these things of mine...I needed these things to survive!...I had no choice...my children...I couldn't not have children, right or wrong...I got everything I said I wanted...these things...my marriage, my house...I don't get it...they aren't enough...I guess I wasn't as smart as I thought I was."

Then she passed into the Light.

***

"Am I going to hell?" was her first question.

"There is no hell, there is no heaven. There's only the love you make," replied the angel.

"Oh my."

Without knowing how she knew to do so, she followed the angel to the Cloud Of Light.

The angel showed no signs of judgement or scorn or approval, speaking thusly: "We shall see two versions of your life: the one you led and the one if life embraced - the one meant for you."

Immediately she wished to defend herself but again an unspoken knowledge kept her in quiet futility.

A projection on the cloud began as the pair watched her bright birth. Life started out well for her as she climbed the social latter of the living. A star among her peers yet all the while hiding a secret doubt. The angel asked the homecoming queen about this shadow - and she knew no lie was possible.

"It's hard to say, really. I felt undeserving, that maybe I wasn't really committed to anything. Wasn't really committed to myself I should say. I just had these dreams. Everyone else, they had some idea of a direction for their life, but me...well, all I knew were these wonderful dreams of living. I wanted to show the whole world how beautiful life could be!"

"Dreamers have the highest calling - and the highest duty."

In college, the shadow deepened. She watched as the voices of doubt won the battle for her confidence. She edged away from the light she so fervently espoused previously. The angel said nothing but...

"You don't understand. I had to go to college. There was nothing else for me to do. I couldn't be a writer or something definite like my classmates. My parents were teachers! How could I explain I wasn't ready to go, that I needed to find myself first? Everyone had such a high opinion of me, I wasn't going to lose that! All those expectations were just so...overwhelming. Maybe my dreams were just dreams, I thought."

She started to cry tears she kept invisible in the carnal world. "What a fool I was! No one can live my life for me! I was always living to make everyone else happy. I told myself I was strong to keep my feelings inside. But that was weak and cowardly. I was so sure the truth was never enough. I broke faith. The preacher doused me in water and said I was saved. But I never was."

She knew what was coming next. "Must we continue?"

"No, as you wish."

Three earth years later, she knew she must know. "Please continue."

She had forgotten that in college her gravest thoughts of suicide had come to seed. This isn't me. I have no future in a lie. It's obvious as the day I have no way to live! The suffocating role-play humiliated her in despair, pretending success in school was same as success in life. She could care less what her grades were outside the approval they brought. All she knew was she wanted out.

But like any bill to pay, the longer she waited the higher the price.

On the Cloud of Light dark events from the past are as visible as the blue sky. So very openly she watched as the voices of doubt called an enemy of her dreams into her life. "No, don't trust him!" She relived the first initial repulsion, the instinctive loathing by the remnants of her confidence. He was nothing but a parasitic twerp looking to suck the life out of her. He needed that to justify his own voices of doubt. He'd never had any dreams of his own.

Gradually, the truth within began to twist. "I need you..." he whispered in her ear. "I love your dreams..." he cooed. "I'll give you the world..." he hopefully bribed. It was direction she missed from her life and direction he would provide. Only now she watched wide-eyed in horror as the shadow couple walked hand in hand down the wrong path in mutual contempt of her dreams!

"No, no! You don't have to do that!" She turned towards the angel. "It's so obvious now. Why didn't you tell me? Why let me walk down the wrong path? None of this is what I wanted. How could I believe it was actually OK to do what I want? It never mattered what I wanted down there. They would attack me for being selfish if I followed my own path. I had no protection!"

She sat in stone for another six months. "It was because I feared I was too selfish that I never did what I wanted. I didn't want to face myself. Once I started running, I couldn't stop. But I always tried to be objective about my life."

"Yes, we know."

It was her objectivity that brought her true love into her life two years into her marriage. She'd been crying out for hope and secretly embraced her dreams once more - but only because she had such an iron grip on her marriage she never feared she'd be without its crutch. The Cloud of Light made all her actions so obvious she wondered how she'd ever managed to fool herself.

"Now I'll show you the life you could have had with your soulmate. Shall I free you of your guilt?"

"Which guilt? ...oh that guilt..."

"We knew you had needs. We put them there. Wealth is not a sin for you. Neither is family and children. Without such things you would have died. It was the only way to keep your dreams alive."

"Exactly! I was saying that for years! No one ever understood. Was nothing to do with selfishness. I needed these things like I needed air to breathe. What a relief to find out I was not lying."

"But it only works if you marry your true love. Had you done so your wealth would have been one thousand fold your husband's ill gotten gains. As a couple you'd have been a shining beacon of light in the world - just as you always dreamed. You would have taught your children openness and honesty instead of darkness and deceit. All the things of life you needed would have been provided in overflowing abundance. And most of all your dreams would have come to life. You'd have been a free person just as you always wished."

"But there is no freedom!"

"And now for the life of your soulmate, alone and abandoned - "

"No, dont!"

She protested but did not stop the projection is his sorrowed voice. "Where are you? I'm so lost without you. You are all my dreams and fantasies come true!"

"This is unbearable! Stop it! Stop it now!"

"I'll never be anything without you. Life has no meaning. Just endless emptiness and wandering."

"Shut him up! He'll ruin everything! Shut his damn mouth or I swear I'll do it for you!"

"I'm missing you literally to death. Just one word from you could change my life. I have no future!"

"Kill him! Kill him DEAD! Don't ever let another word out of his damn mouth! Do you hear me? KILLLL HIMMMM!"

After witnessing the Conversation That Must Never Be Heard, she now lived in a time of Revelation, and she fell from the cloud sobbing. "I'm a murderer! I'm a murderer!"

For twenty years she cried as red stains appeared on her hands. She'd turned her back on the love of her life, never believing he could provide her with her Checklist for Life. Even as she so often wished for him to love her, the idea he needed her was a state secret to be suppressed at costs. To be revealed as a murderer after all she'd built simply unacceptable. Her life had been thrown away, wasted. As long as no one knew of the other path she'd hear no reproach in the world.

To her continued horror she saw the fate of her son. Like his banker father, he had seen only the seemingly direct approach to success. Looking for the easy way he signed on as a security agent for an oil company in the Middle East. What skills in life he could not sell, he cared for not. But in his pursuit of "winning" he'd been gunned down by friendly fire. His life too had been thrown away, he'd been taught well.

How to have faith? How to trust life? She had to get her precious things or she'd die. But now she knew she need get her things only through love or she'd die anyway. Everything she hated about feeling trapped she passed on to her children. Even so, had she merely confided in them, they might have bypassed her errors in life. But the lure of appearing responsible and honest prevented that. What's ever the point of lying?

What is point of the world believing you're successful when you're not? Where's the benefit? So she could keep her things? Well, she lost her things anyway! Why had she ever walked away from her dreams? So she'd never have to fear looking like a fool? But how foolish her dead poisoned body must have looked when discovered by a shocked and horrified family? All the universe had laid waiting before her.

How simple to see now: life is love.

Slowly, she ascended back to the cloud. "May I please go back?"

"Yes, only those who request it ever go. But of course your memory will be wiped clean of all this so that you may be reborn."

"I have to make amends. I can't live with this. This is hell! I won't forsake my dreams this time!"

"I understand your words. But know this: that's what you said last time."

Occupy Servants' Quarters: The Rich Strike Back!

In a "turnabout is fair play" move, millionaires and billionaires across the country are staging catered "sit ins" in their servants' quarters, protesting workers' rights and other cumbersome burdens the "mainstream media refuses to cover", says one Arnold S. of California. "Fuck one maid and you'd think the world had come to an end! Bad enough we have to put up with paying the socialist mandated minimum wage! Oh, the humanity!"

"Tell the maid: I'll be back!"

Many are recalling their lost youth as Hippie protesters in the 60's. "It's so thrilling to recapture our lost idealism. I have goosebumps all over me. It's been over 40 years since I've stood for something and I have to tell you it feels good!" said one protester, referring to herself only as "Goldbeam" ("Used to be Moonbeam!"). "People ask us all the time what we want. The answer is simple: more!" Goldbeam later led the protesters in a chant of, "All we are saying, is give greed a chance!"

Dreaming of future BMWs

Some of the more militant millionaires have taken to the streets, outraged over being forced to view "unsightly homeless shelters" from the back of their limousines, picketing with signs saying, "Guilt is for losers!", "Let me eat (your) cake!" and "Kiss my Maserati!" There were also reports of protesters locking arms to prevent a homeless man from entering his cardboard box. "Why aren't you serving us champagne, you bum!" Police arrested the homeless man for disturbing the peace.

Uncivil rights count too!

"What the poor don't understand are the burdens of the rich," lamented Donald T. of New York. "They say we lost all their money in a game of casino-like betting and that is true. But we can't have everyone being rich! We need delusional working slaves thinking they're free, and fighting for our right to be rich. That's what makes this country great and we will fight to keep it that way! And besides they can always get their money back in the rigged casinos we set up for them. The best ones rhyme with the word 'dump'!"

"I'm a job creator. It takes four different people
just to keep my comb-over in place."

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In More News Of The World!

Chasing Bicyclists: The Sport Of Kings

District Attorney: LAW ONLY APPLIES TO THE POOR

In July 2010, Martin Joel Erzinger, a hedge fund manager for extremely wealthy investors at Morgan Stanley Smith Barney, was driving his car near Vail, Colorado, when he hit a bicyclist from behind and then sped away. The Vail Daily reported that the victim, Steven Milo, suffered "spinal cord injuries, bleeding from his brain and damage to his knee and scapula," which left him facing multiple surgeries. The newspaper's account of the incident makes clear that Erzinger should have been prosecuted for this incident.

Committing a hit-and-run is a felony in Colorado, and leaving the scene of a crime constitutes a felony as well. Nevertheless, the district attorney, Mark Hurlbert, announced that Erzinger would be charged only with a misdemeanor, which carries no jail time. Hurlbert's explanation for not charging Erzinger with any felonies was blunt: "Felony convictions have some pretty serious job implications for someone in Mr. Erzinger's profession."

In other words, Erzinger engages in such vital activity that charging him with a felony would be wrong because it might seriously disrupt his work: managing the money of multimillionaires and billionaires. According to Worth magazine, Erzinger "oversees over $1 billion in assets for ultra high net worth individuals, their families and foundations." If he were charged with a felony, he would be required to report that fact to licensing agencies; a felony conviction could result in his fund manager license being rescinded. Apparently, as far as the district attorney was concerned, it would be terribly unfair to subject someone like Erzinger to the risk of damaging his career, though presumably someone with less to lose could -- and would -- be charged as a felon without any such worries.

Yes, folks, justice may be blind but she can still see green!

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Taking customer service into his own hands

WHEN YOUR BANKER IS A CRIP!

WASHINGTON (Reuters) - The Federal Bureau of Investigation on Friday estimated there are some 1.4 million gang members in the United States and they are turning to white collar crimes as more lucrative enterprises.

Gangs like the Bloods and the Crips are engaging in crimes, such as identity theft, counterfeiting, selling stolen goods and even bank, credit card and mortgage fraud, said a new FBI gangs threat assessment.

"We've seen it, but we've seen them doing it even more now and we attribute to the fact that the likelihood of being caught is less, the sentences once you are caught are less, and the actual monetary gain is much higher," said Diedre Butler, a unit chief at the National Gang Intelligence Center.

See? The youth of the today aren't stupid. They're listening to us VERY well!

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Finding the perfect pumpkin!

WARMONGERS HATE HOT SEX

If you had to guess what attire would be appropriate for a pumpkin patch, booty shorts probably wouldn't fall under that category.

Poor Courtney Stodden -- the 17-year-old teen bride of 51-year-old Doug Hutchison, just didn't get the memo on what's appropriate to wear .... pretty much anywhere.

It turned out Courtney wasn't kicked off of Facebook for being too sexy, but Stodden and her husband were booted from a pumpkin patch in the Santa Clarita Valley this weekend, reports RadarOnline.

But it wasn't just Courtney's denim booty shorts and cleavage-baring shirt that was too much for fellow pumpkin patch visitors. The couple made quite the scene with Courtney jumping into Doug's arms, straddling him provocatively, and making out in front of families who were just trying to spend the day finding a perfect pumpkin.

Assassinating "bad guys" and innocent civilians around the world: MORAL. People expressing sexuality: EVIL! Show me someone who's for the wars and I guarantee you I'll show you a sexual deviant. The two go hand in hand.

Click below for some more Hot Legs!