Posts Tagged 'arts'

HISTORY, CIVICS, AND PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY PART 1

HISTORY, CIVICS, AND PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY PART 2

HISTORY, CIVICS, AND PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY PART 3

HISTORY, CIVICS, AND PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY PENSACOLA’S FIVE-FLAGS DISPLAYS

IF ONLY I WERE FAMOUS

“…You know, I’m automatically attracted to beautiful–I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet.  Just kiss.  I don’t even wait.  And when you’re a star, they let you do it.  You can do anything.”

“…Grab ’em by the pussy.  You can do anything…”

Donald Trump is not suitable to be President of the United States.  But this is not a reason why.  From the moment I heard the private conversation Donald Trump had with Billy Bush in 2005, I was appalled–not at Trump’s words, but at the deceitfulness of the American press, and at the hypocrisy of Republican politicians.

This private conversation was exposed for blatantly political reasons–allegedly by the same Republican politicians who chastised Trump so hypocritically.  We could be sure that Paul Ryan, Mitch McConnell, and even Mike Pence had made very similar comments during their lives.  The fact was that no man alive had failed to engage in such “locker room talk” during his life–and no woman either.

And of course the press completely lied about the comments–stating that Trump had bragged about sexually assaulting women–when it was clear that he simply hadn’t.  In this “locker room talk”, Trump was speaking of sexual relations with women–with their consent.  That’s not sexual assault.  Furthermore, he was simply speaking the truth–the same truth that Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley, and Jimi Hendrix had known.

When you’re a star, women will let you do just about anything–even “grab ’em by the pussy.”  Not all women–not even most women–just a lot of women.

I envy President-elect Trump–in fact, I’m jealous of him.  Everyone in the world latches on to his every tweet as if it’s the last word on everything.

I wish I were a star–I wish I were famous.

Yes, if I were famous, women would indeed let me grab their lovely pussies.

Better still, they might let me have wild, wonderful, sexual intercourse with them.

Better still, they might turn their goddamned smartphones off, and actually let me read my poetry and prose to them.

Or enlighten them on some old, forgotten subject–like history.

Or even share with them my ideas on how we could stop changing our world for the worse, and start changing our world for the better–how we could all be human again, and save humanity itself.

If only I were famous.

ANOTHER REASON TO PULL THE PLUG

For a general overview of this Digital-Age hell, read George Orwell’s 1984 and Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World (along with countless other literary and cinematic classics).

And for a parody of the place of spectator sport in this Digital-Age hell, read E.B. White’s “The Decline of Sport”.

Yes, spectator sport is as much like war as ever–possibly moreso in this Digital-Age hell.

Yet another development has taken place–definitely more serious than ever in this Digital-Age hell.

War has become a spectator sport.

Another reason to pull the plug on this Digital-Age hell–to shut down the entire Digital-Age system worldwide–somehow.

EASY ON THE EYES #25

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SECOND WILL AND TESTAMENT

“And Pharaoh said unto Joseph, In my dream, behold, I stood upon the bank of the river:

“And, behold, there came up out of the river seven kine, fat-fleshed and well favoured; and they fed in a meadow:

“And, behold, seven other kine came up after them, poor and very ill favoured and lean-fleshed, such as I never saw in all the land of Egypt for badness:

“And the lean and the ill favoured kine did eat up the first seven fat kine:

“And when they had eaten them up, it could not be known that they had eaten them; but they were still ill favoured, as at the beginning.  So I awoke.

“And I saw in my dream, and, behold, seven ears came up in one stalk, full and good:

“And, behold, seven ears, withered, thin, and blasted with the east wind, sprung up after them:

“And the thin ears devoured the seven good ears: and I told this unto the magicians; but there was none that could declare it to me.

“And Joseph said unto Pharaoh, The dream of Pharaoh is one: God hath shewed Pharaoh what he is about to do.

“The seven good kine are seven years; and the seven good ears are seven years: the dream is one.

“And the seven thin and ill favoured kine that came up after them are seven years; and the seven empty ears blasted with the east wind shall be seven years of famine.

“This is the thing which I have spoken unto Pharaoh: What God is about to do he sheweth unto Pharaoh.

“Behold, there come seven years of great plenty throughout all the land of Egypt:

“And there shall arise after them seven years of famine; and all the plenty shall be forgotten in the land of Egypt; and the famine shall consume the land;

“And the plenty shall not be known in the land by reason of that famine following; for it shall be very grievous.

“And for that the dream was doubled unto Pharaoh twice; it is because the thing is established by God, and God will shortly bring it to pass.

“Now therefore let Pharaoh look out a man discreet and wise, and set him over the land of Egypt.

“Let Pharaoh do this, and let him appoint officers over the land, and take up the fifth part of the land of Egypt in the seven plenteous years.

“And let them gather all the food of those good years that come, and lay up corn under the hand of Pharaoh, and let them keep food in the cities.

“And that food shall be for store to the land against the seven years of famine, which shall be in the land of Egypt; that the land perish not through the famine.

“And the thing was good in the eyes of Pharaoh, and in the eyes of all his servants.

“And Pharaoh said unto his servants, Can we find such a one as this, a man in whom the Spirit of God is?

“And Pharaoh said unto Joseph, Forasmuch as God hath shewed thee all this, there is none so discreet and wise as thou art:

“Thou shalt be over my house, and according unto thy word shall all my people be ruled: only in the throne will I be greater than thou.

“And Pharaoh said unto Joseph, See, I have set thee over all the land of Egypt.”

“…And Joseph was thirty years old when he stood before Pharaoh king of Egypt. And Joseph went out from the presence of Pharaoh, and went throughout all the land of Egypt.

“And in the seven plenteous years the earth brought forth by handfuls.

“And he gathered up all the food of the seven years, which were in the land of Egypt, and laid up the food in the cities: the food of the field, which was round about every city, laid he up in the same.

“And Joseph gathered corn as the sand of the sea, very much, until he left numbering; for it was without number.”

“…And the seven years of plenteousness, that was in the land of Egypt, were ended.

“And the seven years of dearth began to come, according as Joseph had said: and the dearth was in all lands; but in all the land of Egypt there was bread.

“And when all the land of Egypt was famished, the people cried to Pharaoh for bread: and Pharaoh said unto all the Egyptians, Go unto Joseph; what he saith to you, do.

“And the famine was over all the face of the earth: and Joseph opened all the storehouses, and sold unto the Egyptians; and the famine waxed sore in the land of Egypt.

“And all countries came into Egypt to Joseph for to buy corn; because that the famine was so sore in all lands.”

This is an epic.

But everyone’s life is an epic.

Like most people, I have had times of plenty and times of little.

But for eight years I had a time of plenty unlike any before–not plenty of grain, but plenty of money.

This money came from an unlikely, unexpected source.

Then the money stopped coming, early this year–even more unexpectedly than it had started coming, just over eight years before.

Yet unlike Pharaoh, I had no dream to prepare me for this time of plenty, followed by this time of little nothing–and no Joseph to interpret such a dream.

And this is why I am now experiencing the most desperate, frightening financial crisis in my life.  But my family–which gave me assistance in past financial crises–has completely shut me out.  During this time when I need my family more than ever, my family is more indifferent toward me than ever.  My family is kicking me when I’m down.

And the only members of my family who would assist me during this agonizing financial crisis–the only members of my family who would do everything they could to give me a rope by which I could climb out of this pit–are all dead.

In an earlier post, I expressed how much I wished I hadn’t lived to see 2016.

Now I wish that even more.

FINAL SCENE

Bernie Sanders was threatened–I’m convinced of it.  It has been suggested to me that the Zionist Jews who control our government almost as completely as they control every industry of our mass media will never allow a Jew to be President of the United States.  And Bernie Sanders is the latest casualty in this War on America that has already been won decades ago–by the goddamned Zionist Jews. The goddamned Zionist Jews threatened Bernie Sanders–and when he refused to yield to their whore, Hillary Clinton, they threatened his family.  This is the reason Bernie Sanders gave up the fight so close to the time of the Democratic National Convention.  The goddamned Zionist Jews knew that the Democratic Party could still nominate Bernie Sanders (just as the Republican Party could still have nominated anyone but Donald Trump) and this is why those bastards put a stop to his campaign.

Now the Republican Party has chosen suicide by nominating the only Republican candidate who cannot possibly defeat Hillary Clinton in a general election.

Ironically, if Bernie Sanders were the Democratic presidential candidate–and the goddamned Zionist Jews controlled our electoral college process as completely as they control our federal government–Donald Trump would defeat Bernie Sanders easily.  Because Donald Trump is in the pocket of the goddamned Zionist Jews almost as much as Hillary Clinton. But the American people (even those who voted for Donald Trump in the primaries) would know something was up.  And Republican and Democratic voters, alike, would finally be protesting something they understood.

Hillary Clinton will be the most destructive president in U.S. history.  The idiots who voted for her in the Democratic primaries will realize their mistake.  But the idiots who voted for Donald Trump in the Republican primaries will not likely realize theirs.

I cannot help but laugh, sardonically, as I picture Charlton Heston climbing off his horse, falling to his fists in the surf, condemning the Americans who destroyed their own nation–not with the Bomb, but with their ignorance, apathy, and complacency culminating in the election of the one president more certain to destroy the United States than Donald Trump–Hillary Clinton.

“God damn you all to hell!”

FIRST WILL AND TESTAMENT

It’s a horrible way to die.

Yeah, well I didn’t ask to die this way.

What way?

Slowly, agonizingly–from a combination of psychiatric drugs whose effects my body can no longer tolerate (because there are no safer drugs available) and fast food saturated with a deadly amount of fat and salt (because I can no longer afford healthier food).

Ironic–you are in far more danger writing a sober post, your head tight, your calves tight, your eyeballs rolling around with some kind of dyskinesia and/or sodium poisoning than writing a drunken post, your body and mind totally relaxed under the influence of alcohol, your blood pressure lowered to a safe level.

Yeah, well I can’t afford a large, healthy dinner to absorb a large, healthy amount of alcohol.  And I can’t obtain medical marijuana to replace these far more dangerous psychiatric drugs, because it’s not legal yet.  And I can’t simply stop these deadly psychiatric drugs with nothing safer to replace them.  I can’t even replace these deadly psychiatric drugs with a moderate amount of alcohol daily, because there’s alcoholism in my family history, and there’s no Mediterranean component to my Old World ancestry.

Even if there were a woman in my life who could cook the healthiest, yet tastiest food for me, calm me with her body, nourish me rather than drain me, complement me rather than control me, accommodate me rather than dominate me, I could safely write such a sober post as this one.  But there isn’t–there never has been, and there probably never will be.

So let me die writing, since I am to die alone.

I was in the second or third grade.  It was about the time I’d started this trend of chasing the girls around the playground to kiss them.  Other boys had caught on–and we had to stay in, during recess one day.  This put a stop to that.

Then another boy came up with a different way to catch girls–impressing them with daring.  Other boys caught on, other boys including me.  There was a very high slide in the playground.  And this boy, instead of sliding down, decided to jump off the back of the slide.  The ground was dirt and grass–but there was a square of strong support bars midway down.  This boy jumped, and he was okay. Others followed, and they were okay.  Then I jumped.  Maybe it was because I was taller than the other boys, maybe not–but I didn’t fall straight down on my feet like the others.  I tumbled into the square of support bars.  Remembering, it seems like I was suspended in midair–or moving in slow-motion.  There was no pain.  But my arms hit the bars, my legs hit the bars, and my head hit the bars. Yet I got to my feet–and the very girls I’d tried to impress checked on me, making sure I was alright (the other boys had split).  And I was alright–no fracture, not even a bruise.

Not long after, neighborhood kids got the idea to play a game in Robby’s pool.  I think it was called chicken fighting.  The smaller, lighter boys would get on the shoulders of the larger, heavier boys in the shallow end of the pool–then try to push each other into the water.  Of course it was far more dangerous for the larger, heavier boys.  Smaller, lighter Jeff sat on my shoulders, and his opponent pushed him into the water.  And I was trapped, of course.  All I could do was hold my breath, as I waited for Jeff to get off my shoulders.  This was different than the incident with the slide–I was aware of this, I was aware that I was about to drown.

This is probably another reason the wreck of the Sunset Limited affected me more seriously than the 9/11 catastrophe–those who died in that wreck probably died in a much more horrible way.  Those who jumped from the Twin Towers were likely the only 9/11 victims who suffered as much terror as the victims of the Sunset Limited wreck.

Imagine this–you’re on a train going over a bayou bridge in the dark.  And your rail car crashes into the bayou.  If you’re lucky, the crash will knock you out–so you won’t know what hit you.  If you’re not, you will be desperately trying to find a way out of that car before it fills up with water–along with countless other screaming passengers.  It’s totally dark–there are no lights over that bayou.  So not only are you unable to find a way out of the car, you don’t even know which way is up.

But Jeff managed to get off my shoulders–just in time.

The last time was a suicide attempt.  It was the only suicide attempt–because I lived and learned how nearly impossible it was to kill oneself.  Prozac is bad stuff–the worst.  It didn’t make me want to commit suicide–it made me delusional so that I thought God wanted me to commit suicide.  There I was on the floor dying. I was at peace, with the sensation of floating in deep space, yet breathing, stars surrounding me.  And something literally possessed my body–made me get up, and dial 911.  At first I thought that something was the Devil.  Then I thought it was God.  But in time, I realized it was my primal brain–that bit of tissue that contains the one bit of emotion every animal has–the fear of death.

Nothing more, nothing less.

I despise money–perhaps more than anything else.

Money is not something I want to have–only something I have to have.

Money has absolutely no value–ever.

And money is completely useless–until it is spent for products and services that have value.

Even when money is saved, it is only saved to be spent at a later time.

Even when money is invested, it is only invested to acquire more money that is still completely useless until it is spent.

Even when money is given away, it is only given away to be spent by someone other than oneself.

Money has absolutely no value–ever.

And money is completely useless–until it is spent for products and services that have value.

Why wouldn’t I despise money?  Why wouldn’t anyone despise money?

If I have money, it has no value–and it is completely useless until it is spent for products and services that have value.

But if I don’t have money, I cannot acquire products and services that have value–products which include food, services which include disposal of food remains.

This is the worst time in American history to be poor.

In the past, the poor in the United States could get help from their families and communities.

But there is no more family in the United States.

And there is no more community.

I’m obsessed with obtaining money–those without money always are.

“Here come the rich man in his big, long limousine.  Here come the poor man, Lord, he got to have his green.”

A couple weeks ago, there was a homeless woman with a dog.

She held a sign that read, NEED MONEY FOR TAMPONS, DOG FOOD…

I had fifty dollars in my wallet–all I had.

If I gave her this fifty dollars, I thought, would someone in turn give me five hundred dollars?

“Pay it forward” would work like this:

I give her $50–all I have.

Someone gives me $500–all she has.

Someone gives her $5,000–all he has.

Someone gives him $50,000–all she has.

Someone gives her $500,000–all he has.

Someone gives him $5,000,000–all she has.

Someone gives her $50,000,000–all he has.

Someone gives him $500,000,000–all she has.

Someone gives her $5,000,000,000–all he has.

Someone gives him $50,000,000,000–all she has.

I give her $500,000,000,000–all I have.

Someone gives me $5,000,000,000,000–but it’s not all she has.

If only I knew, I thought.

But I didn’t know–so I didn’t give her my fifty dollars.

There’s a $429 bottle of Scotch that’s at least thirty years old–I’ve mentioned it in a previous post.

Ever since I first saw it, I’ve wanted to purchase it–just to see if drinking it would transport me to 1986 or before.

But even the few times I had enough money to purchase it, I didn’t–because I didn’t know it would transport me anywhere anytime.

That eighteen-year-old Scotch I drank at the Shark Fin during that dinner with the Singletons of which I wrote in a drunken post (particularly of the Zionist bastard who embarrassed me in front of my friends–not because I was talking too loudly, but because he disagreed with what I said) that Scotch didn’t transport me back eighteen years.

So why would that $429 bottle of Scotch transport me back thirty years or more?

Because I would drink the entire bottle–not just a glass.

Still, it’s just a fantasy–to my knowledge.  That’s why I don’t sell everything I can to get the money to purchase it.

With sales and sin tax, it would be far more than $429 anyway.

Delaying the inevitable–this is all I’m doing each day, these the worst days of my life.  Having no money has knocked me down–yet circumstances keep kicking me anyway.  Every day, I delay the inevitable–the loss of everything but my life, my freedom, and whatever I can carry on my shoulders.

Yet we all delay the inevitable–all our lives.

From the moment we’re born, we delay the inevitable–which is death.

Even as newborn babies, we choose to nourish ourselves from the breast or the bottle–delaying death.

And though the pursuit of happiness is not our primary purpose in life, most of our time spent toward a greater purpose is constantly interrupted by our desire to delay the inevitable.  Our most basic human needs serve only the purpose of delaying death.

I started this post when I had enough money for fast food.  Now I only have enough money for store-bought food–peanut butter, cheese, bread, cottage cheese, and sliced ham.

This stuff–this cheapest of food–is far more dangerous than any fast food because it has even more salt.  It’s loaded with salt.

Can’t eat the cottage cheese–too much salt.  Can’t eat the sliced ham–too much salt.

Every store-bought food has too much salt because it’s used as a preservative.

The ham was the saltiest of all–I had to put the remainder in the front yard for stray cats.

The more salt a food has, the more it tightens my head and my muscles, makes my eyeballs roll around, and creates sharp pains in my legs–especially in combination with these goddamned psychiatric drugs.

I’ve never suffered such agony in my life–and only because I have no money, and no family or community to give me any support.


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