|Saturday, 3 December 2016 at 11h 39m 6s|
Click here to read
about the purging of voter registration based upon false linkage of names with felon lists. This is
what happened in Florida 2000. It wasn't "hanging chads". It was 56,000 black american voters who
showed up to vote only to discover their names were purged from the voter rolls, and then given
"provisional" ballots that were never counted; merely because of an outsourced firm that Jeb Bush
contracted to loosely associate names on a felon list with voters. Hence, Leroy Williams matched
Leroy Ron Williams, Leroy James Williams, and Leroy Earl Williams.
These fuckers are destroying this country and calling it "Making America Great Again."
Here is a video of the
current schnanigans called "cross-check".
|Saturday, 3 December 2016 at 11h 39m 30s|
Oh yes it can happen here
Bob Fitrakis is an American hero in my opinion. He is not a Democrat. He is a patriot.
Note:After the first two sentences, the following quote is paraphrased.
"We should vote with a paper and a pencil. We should have a voting holiday. We should count all
ballots by hand and remove the computers just like they do with the other 46 democracies in the
world. We should not have private corporations with proprietary software run our elections and our
election registration systems. We should not allow private corporations to secretly program our
elections, and that's what they do."
And Click here
The above links are from threalnews.com and cspan
|Saturday, 19 November 2016 at 21h 18m 58s|
THIS blog and podcast from
Springfield, Illinois is worth the regular time. You get the straight honest dope.
In particular, this podcast will inspire you with hope if you are disheartened by the rise of
fascism in our nation.
|Friday, 18 November 2016 at 18h 14m 40s|
Keith Olbermann is back
I love this man. Back during the Bush years he was the voice of reason and resistance against the
obvious treasonous incompetency. He nails it every single time.
|Thursday, 17 November 2016 at 22h 55m 13s|
The sea ice is dramatically different
[SOURCE: Grist.org | 17 November 2016 | ]
Look at that 2016 red line that is far far below the norm for this time of year. That means that
global warming is accelerating to the point of no return.
And just in case you didn't know, when a process is exponential, it means that the environment has
become permeated with whatever phenomenon it is that is causing that event. Exponential cancer
rates means the environment is producing entities that cause cancer. Linear growth and Exponential
growth are different in this regard, so when you get exponential growth and hide your head in the
sand watching bullshit artists tell you to not believe your lying eyes ... you get a catastrophe.
|Wednesday, 9 November 2016 at 18h 45m 54s|
OMG ... We Are Truly Fucked
Post Election Blues
There is no revolution by the ballot box
The TV persona’s will tell you that
but really they just describe the status quo
through the whispers of what their bosses say
and those who listen think they are getting an independent opinion
but the mass mailing that come to your mailbox
are not paid for by working people
they are not crafted by the struggle of day to day existence
they are worded carefully in order to manipulate the minds of the weak
to make the middle class think the rich care about their welfare
rather than exploiting them so they can have gold bathrooms
and 3 private jets
and they spend money on liars to pretend they have a soul.
So you fools who think you stuck it to the establishment by voting for a spoiled rotten rich kid
are getting a knife in the back instead
you are getting corporate lawyers sending test case after test case to the supreme court
in order to take away the rights of the people
so that corporations can rape you at will
and one day you might discover that what you think is your money and bank account
is just a ruse
because you don’t understand economics and think the banking syndicate cares
about it’s customers.
This is not simple math and free market competition.
This is aggregate wealth disguised behind corporate slogans and crafty laws written
by sociopaths and dressed up by merlins who wear temporary costumes
and then send their hired private police forces to shoot you down when you finally discover the
that the vast majority of the super rich don’t care about you when they shake your hand and smile
when they buy advertisements that appeal to your primal nature and tell you that you too
can fuck over other people and become super wealthy
and you will believe this like a true zealot until you die
with the headphones screaming into your ears as you walk by the other lost souls on the street.
|Friday, 2 September 2016 at 18h 31m 21s|
Quote of me
I was speaking with a younger girl I have known for maybe 5 years now. She is half my age and we
have always gotten along, another of a plethora of platonic friendships I have had since I was 10
years old. She was telling me about her issues with men and relationships and with me being 47 and
her being 23, the conversation was more of a mentor to a student than anything else. I see her as a
little sister and genuinely care for her because I see a lot of goodness in her that she probably
doesn't see in herself. A lot of young women carry this insecurity of their worthlessness when they
come up and like we were talking about, it creates it's own feedback mechanism. You get the idea
that you are unworthy and so you settle for those who are less worthy. You seek out that which you
expect in order to confirm your own lowered expectations, and repeat.
Or as I told her before we parted ..
You buy the lie because the truth hurts.
|Thursday, 1 September 2016 at 23h 4m 2s|
A Wow thought
Our perception of life is a dream of a dream in a dream where we actually exist.
|Saturday, 20 August 2016 at 14h 22m 32s|
I regularly go to the Bottom of the Hill Club at 1233 17th St, San Francisco, CA 94107. It's my favorite club in the city with
Ireland 32 being a close second. There was
a band called Blackwülf that is really good in my opinion. There were 3 other bands but
Blackwülf is the band I wanted to see. I bought a T-Shirt too.
However that is not why I am composing this essay. It was an interesting night mingling with
various persons and I thought writing about the events would be either edifying, or at least worth
It all started when I parked my car on 17th after driving down 8th Street,driving around the circle
where Townsend ends to what Google calls "Henry Adams" but what San Franciscan's probably call
Kansas, because that's what the street was originally named
until the city decided to pay homage to Henry Adams for 2 blocks. Is this because there is a huge
non-profit warehouse one block over on Rhode Island Street called San Francisco
Center for the Book which is about the "arts and craft" of making books?
No. Henry Adams is the son of John Adams who has his name attached to the City College Campus at
1860 Hayes Street (originally it was Lowell High School). Apparently Henry Adams was the Brains Behind the Design Center that is adjacent to the two
blocks of the street name change. Another in a long line of scions from the famed
Boston Adams family, Henry was instrumental in changing the industrial wasteland that existed
between Market and Potrero Hill by buying up the property and changing the landscape. The area used
to be the extension of an iron works complex in the early to mid 1900's called Union Iron Works. It was
abandoned much like the Cattle stock yards of South Chicago were abandoned.
is called the Design Center
But I have to finish this later because I have some school work to do. There is more to the story.
To be continued when I have more time.
|Thursday, 18 August 2016 at 18h 12m 9s|
I am going to a poetry reading tonight hosted by a long-term good friend named Rowan Chong. I owe
it to him to remind me of my inner poet.
I wrote my first poem when I was in middle school to a Vietnamese girl named Ahn Nguyen. I wish I
still had that poem. Funny thing about life is that many years later Ahn was the roommate to
another girl named Rebecca Jehan who was the most significant other girlfriend in my life, and is
the one girl who I will always love for the rest of my life -- even though I accept that I will
never see her ever again.
Love has no ownership. It exists. It does not control.
Anyway, I wrote this poem yesterday. I call it "What the Fuck".
We walk the earth
master of our own personal universe
having tools at our disposal
that send us images of earthly weather patterns
instant messages from half way across the globe
26 words and 260 pages quicker than the post office and the publishing cycle.
It used to be a few months before other people had the chance to read your bullshit.
not only do they get this trivia within a few seconds
they also respond a few seconds later
and so too all too many others whom you do not know
anonymous persons who project their monstrous id
playing ping pong on the internet table
but you don’t see these players on the other side of a 6 foot table anymore
and these others
the outside world
are completely incongruous
you have no fucking idea who these people are on the other side of the internet.
You read their words
You see their videos
but the human is imprisoned by the orifice of plastic or metal
and the electric waves and currents are alien signals
transporting power like blood corpuscles
they aren’t biological
and we don’t see them at all.
They happen by some unknowable magic
even though we think we know them
because we have an ideology called math
that balances equations
and minimizes the theories we call functions
because the planet has become an input into the machine of extraction
and the human slaves are fed on the conveyor belt of civilization
while the propaganda entertains them and speaks of progress like chewing on candy.
Which is why we are in this existential human crisis
wondering what exactly is this thing called “human existence”.
What exactly is this life driving in metal boxes on concrete roads
going to and fro
from rectangular boxes where human forms hold small machines
and constantly look at them while they ignore everything else
having nothing to say to the people who are standing within 15 feet
not even realizing or caring or even curious
blank faces being fed by the ether while shackled to the artificial
thinking grandiose lies and tall tales as their minds are constantly being bombarded by kitsch
because that is the only way to survive when you are a grain of sand in the universe.
But is that all we are?
A grain of sand?
A tiny small infinitesimal cube of Silicon Dioxide floating in the wind of time?