If Hubris had a name it would have the moniker ‘Corruption”. But let me address people here, but before I forget, I am having a difficult time. Seizures can be attributed to the Manic Depression. It doesn’t matter what I eat or sleep. I had seriously entertained calling it a ‘life’. That said, my cats are like a bridge over troubled waters.
This is sick… All Filipino. Listen people react from all the all around the world, reacting to these songs.
“Music is a higher revelation
than all wisdom and philosphy.
Music is the electrical soil
in which the spirit lives, thinks and invents.” ~ Ludwig van Beethoven ~
My cats give me a sense of what life is all about. I stutter and hiccup jigsawed speech. Today an incident reminded of the Tonic-Clonic Seizure on Jan 2015. So, if there are points, that my mind is mentally wandering, you know why. Some days are great and too many not very good. I was manic when I saw the Dr. I was prescribed mood stabilizers but not really working yet. Major Depression, seeing and hearing things and the steady Mania that clouds my mind.
But this is not what this blog is about. What it is about, is what makes us shine and brings joy to our hearts. It is about common threads, that swirl and gives us a heads up, about our spiritual connections. I want to eschew hyperbole and dance around the circle like muses waiting to be connected.
Music is such a vehicle, speeding like a comet across the Northern Lights, lifting spirits and dancing like ABBA. Music is like string theory, with a million microscopic worlds, waiting to unite us.
I imagine one day, that science will literally be put upon it’s head. No more wantoness, no more twinkie food for the oppressed. No matter the difficulty, music is our MUSE. We share the passion, feel it’s warmth, and is commodious with peace. Hubris exits out the back door. Music is peace. Promoting equality and offering hope to the benighted.
“Music does bring people together.
It allows us to experience the same emotions.
People everywhere are the same in heart and spirit.
No matter what language we speak, what color we are,
the form of our politics or the expression of our love and our faith,
music proves: We are the same.” ~ John Denver ~
Back in 1974, I was a kid, only 18 years and probably was witness in some way to a date rape. It sure felt like it because as I was leaving out the dorm that night, guys were pulling a train on a teen girl and some guy asked me if I wanted to have ‘some.’ I said, “no.” And besides, the choice of words haunts me too as well as the whimpering that went along with her disorientation.
I was so naive but a part of my soul has been tortured to this very day. If I knew then what I know now, I might have gone postal because I cannot imagine a crime worse than that. You see, she was drunk and whimpering. Damnit. That really pisses me off. No girl asks for ‘it.’ Not for that.
But date rape characterizations are nothing new and for the longest time just generally accepted. In the movie ‘Animal House’ the guy was contemplating having sex with a passed out underage girl. Did she ask for it? NO! Does it happen? Hell ya! Is it any wonder so many women want to spread the pain around.
Going a few years into my adult life, I had a girl friend and she was given a roofie. The net effect according to her, was she never felt the same about anything! Date-raped by her boss at the mall. She and I went through hell afterwards and my anger @ jerkoffs intensifies. My girlfriend was only pieces of ceramic, like Humpty-Dumpty, those pieces can’t always be fixed.
I suffer too, knowing that seedy men with seditious desires lay in wait, like Jack The Ripper or the Boston Strangler. In these instances the pain is far worse than death. It is a slow blood-letting of one’s spirit and sense of control. We had great times and every once in awhile we would talk.
From her bosses abuse of her, of us really, she went on a self-destructive binge with an older guy who was a criminal. Arrested for a crack ball and spending time in prison, he seemed to like finding young victims. Her sister said he liked to read magazines like ‘Barely Legal’ and ’18’. Yeah one of those! One day her sister gave me a journal she had written and she had talked to her sister about the parasite she was with and how she missed me and my steady decisions and what would I do in a particular situation. She said I am the guy that returns the shopping cart. For awhile I was miffed by that but then got the gist of what she was trying to express. She also got a disease from this miscreant, Herpes!
(She fell in love in the first place)))
For some reason these words tick me off. An otherwise innocent girl and not perfect by any means, paid the price for both of you and you both should be ashamed. And I harbor guilt for not being able to protect her from the smarmy underbelly of the beast that lurks with a touch of wind and a wiff of illicit drugs.
If her mom had not been a prostitute and subjected her to so much, she might have been able to cry on her shoulders. She could have told her Mom what he said and did and your Mom would turn away. Flushed with anger and disappointment, words she heard once upon a time. Now reverberating like a song that plays over and over on a music box. The ballerina fell suddenly and her porcelain dreams laid like a million shards of what ifs.
So let’s examine some of the dubious comments made by men and boys and mostly they are one and the same. Your high school heroes and high society icons flickered as capriciously as the stories of high school football players and date rapes. The bottom-line being the reputation of the boys and a girl who was allegedly asking for it. She was collateral damage in the game of cat and mouse.
He gave you wine or drugs and told you it was okay. He promised you everything to dance in the sheets and tomorrow he denies that he even knew you or the things you said, you couldn’t have meant, if you did say them….
Their friends and influences probably had mixed emotions about the destruction, from the boss to the drug abusing narcissist whose real romance is a synthetic cesspool of misery. Both now share in a common malady with excuses and no care for the damage they were doing.
What once was a fairy tale happiness transmogrified into a hellish world of missed chances. Where lightning does strike over and over again(in the same place) and the pain still flows, if even now to more or less a trickle. In the video above Boy Meets Girl they dance and sing with a love that we all want and yet finally, even they play a requiem to a love gone strange. To me, as I worked in the media in Tampa, the song was a fresh time. A promise. Together with Paula Abdul’s ‘Straight up’, it seemed life had spectacular promise, even after a lost preemie and the mother who ran off for a decade and a half with our daughter.
But life has second chances even if those chances require some modifications to retrofit them to make them work. I do remember what my daughter said about her 16th birthday and how much she loved me. That that was her best birthday ever. This after being lost to me from her early post natal days to about fifteen years later. Still, I would NOT change things too much because what if we never rediscovered that and that is why the blog about ‘Ten Years a Single Mother’ and her kids love for her touches my heart. Kids get the connections and their love is pure if they are loved.
The theme of this entire post is what are we going to do. Rather than just complain about the pain, how can we fix a thing? You, I and many others have lived on both sides of the track and nothing…… nothing gets fixed by complaining. We need to put people first because a warm place and a hot dinner matters.
To the abuse of women, children and the vulnerable, you and I can change the world. I have a few things going now. One is to get Emotional Support Animals and Service Pets for people who need them. Let’s teach men and society in general how to treat a lady and your kids. We need to focus on identifying potential abuse and treat the family not a case number but take care of it as a village. With compassion. No tolerance policies does not heal a family. Making rules is what politicians do. Why do we punish people like Aileen Wuornos the way we do? Why not find out where at-risk people are and help? That gives us all a better chance of surviving the obstacles in life.
From murderers to offenders of all kinds, punishment is the easy part, preventing tragedies can happen and should happen. That takes more than a Breathalyzer and seeing if you can walk a straight line. How much better will this world be with solutions and not grandstanding politicians and other nabobs using the moment for personal gain.
Education is the key to everything. Not just laws but helping people be better people. Not projecting how good we are, but how good we can all be, if we just try. Ghettos are going nowhere and neither are the homeless, the drug users and other kinds of abusers. Let’s get this done and stop maligning others. The old speck and the log thing.
I am building a tower and it will be built upon by the hands of time. It will be finessed and the etchings carved into marbleized histories, remnants left for consideration. A bored scholar will scribe his articulations on paper and artists upon the heart sometimes with words and other times shades of different colors.
Our passions darken as our own freedom gives us license. To establish who we are and why we should matter.
The dimming lights provide sanctuary for secrets held within, while the new trees bear the same old fruit. Replacing antiquity with green limbs envious. Accounts will be altered, values distorted like a warped window or a cracked mirror. Only tiny shards indiscernible will collect dust. The hammering thoughts of preservation are to no avail. The ebb and flow of matter reconstitutes itself. Aware of nothing but it’s new place, neither the checkered foster homes of neglected souls or the random insects in their constabularies. New kings and queens arise, like heaving opportunists secure in that moment only.
Willingness gives way to wood, brick and dust and from these new houses are made. New conflicts arise and the sentient drama of conflicting self wills lay about and scattered by Zephyrs and Foehn. Tears drip from random placements like lost toys of our youth, neither material or a ether just an unnoticed stroke of a pen and a purchase.
The final revolution spins to a stop and the cul-de-sac of expectancy gives way to a somber recollection. Momentary gratitude and an appointment looming, breaks the shadow of what once was and will never be again.
Well, they’ll stone when you’re try to be good
They’ll stone ya just a-like they said they would
They’ll stone ya when you’re tryin’ to go home
Then they’ll stone ya when you’re there all alone
But I would not feel so all alone
Everybody must get stoned.Well, they’ll stone ya when you’re walkin’ ‘long the street
They’ll stone ya when you’re tryin’ to keep your seat
They’ll stone ya when you’re walkin’ on the floor
They’ll stone ya when you’re walkin’ to the door
But I would not feel so all alone
Everybody must get stoned.
They’ll stone ya when you’re at the breakfast table
They’ll stone ya when you are young and able
They’ll stone ya when you’re tryin’ to make a buck
They’ll stone ya and then they’ll say “good luck”
Tell ya what, I would not feel so all alone
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, They’ll stone you and say that it’s the end
Then they’ll stone you and then they’ll come back again
They’ll stone you when you’re riding in your car
They’ll stone you when you’re playing your guitar
Yes, but I would not feel so all alone
Everybody must get stoned.
Well, they’ll stone you when you walk all alone
They’ll stone you when you are walking home
They’ll stone you and then say you are brave
They’ll stone you when you are set down in your grave
But I would not feel so all alone
Everybody must get stoned.
We’ve got
Police Brutality- Murder in the Streets
Right vs Left
Political thieves – Ali Baba
Crips/Bloods
Oultaws/Angels
Sharpton/Westboro
Kennedy/Reagan
Bush/Clinton
ACORN/KKK
Tea Party/Black Panthers
Rap/Death Metal
Fire/Rain
Blood and Steel
You can’t be real.
Lots of talk/no action
Food Kitchens/Billionaires
Heinz/Koch Bros
Getting rich,
No wonder Life’s a bitch.
Black, white
Asian and Cree
Political Correctness
D AND R.
We are in this together and the politicians and representatives represent and stop playing the race card because we are people and that is it. We have the future to consider and changes that are not political as much as pragmatic that will benefit us all. You see people excluding others in the name of a cause, whether it is abortion, guns, abuse, race, etc and we need to act now. Volunteer, help and make the world a better place and forget slogans. Do this!
Last night as I was perusing Hulu Plus, when I happened across the Korean movie, ‘Meet Mr. Daddy’. In this movie’ Joon’ is a sickly child who wants to be with her daddy, who happens to be a small-time petty criminal who gets in over his head with unscrupulous gangster boss. The dad who got arrested by the police was given an option of being a father with a stipend in lieu of incarceration.
The dubious dad thus picks up the guantlet with litte intention of really doing the right thing. However the charms of a young girl and their need of a dad certainly can work magic and this movie did.
In a roller coaster ride of highs and lows, little Miss Seo Shin Ae (joon) manages to change the heart of a down and out miscreant who learns what love is and utlimately becomes a dad to this sweet baby. She was around seven years old and sick however she shares something with her because they both like soccer and she predicts a Korean win.
Rather than say too much, I just to say how this obviously simple plot surprised with little Joon providing a few laughs and a dogged determination to find happiness. With all the rancor of Adrian Peterson and his young son, I am perplexed by the simple-minded hate directed at this father who went too far. However just as in this movie, life is about second chances.
The greatest judge of us will be our kids and since I lost one kid just after birth and another was missing for fifteen years, I get angry with outsiders who cannot seem to understand that is NOT about the reader of these news events but the victims all the way around. This movie highlights the need for embracing life while we still have it.
Finally, this movie kind of snookers you into a sense of bland drama with a dynamic conclusion and why girls need a loving and doting father. The exchange of blessings is a private matter between imperfect parents and affectionate little ones.
This movie is a must-see. So let us cast off the pride that immediately wants to destroy people’s lives and work on your own relationships and see what kids can see and parents can learn. It is not too late!!
We have all tripped on a few landmines in our lives and then justified it as being human. And there is nothing wrong with that, except when you forgot about your own errors in judgment. Do we need a remembrance to keep us straight or do we just pile on and let the chips fall where they may?
Now, there are abusers out there and many are women!
{. Everyone quotes the statistics given by the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence: 1 in 4 women will be victims of domestic violence at some point in their lives, 1.3 million women are assaulted by their partner every year, 85% of domestic violence reported is against women. However, in a conflicting survey taken by the CDC in 2010, it was found that 40% of the victims of severe, physical domestic violence are men}
Okay ladies, we need to gloss over that and for sure men do not want to seem like wimps but there is a time when someone is going to jail and if you deny that you were abused after being abused, then it could be said that not all attacks are being reported!
As usual the media loves to stir up the hornet’s nest and then leave a pile of manure in it’s wake. And sadly, the issues are buried as the next best story avails itself or some development where more accused surface and so the claims go on and on and on.
Men, as well as women, are victimized by violence. Sexual abuse and rape create substantial physical and psychological harm to male victims and perpetuate the cycle of violence. Men and boys are less likely to report the violence and seek services due to the following challenges: the stigma of being a male victim, the perceived failure to conform to the macho stereotype, the fear of not being believed, the denial of victim status, and the lack of support from society, family members, and friends. This according to the National Coalition to Domestic Violence.
For more information or to get help, please call: National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-HOPE National Child Abuse Hotline at 1-800-4-A-CHILD
So my friends there you have it. People like that idiot James Brown (the announcer) is just as guilty and pathetic as the NFL and other media who purport to be about women and knowingly commit this felonious rendition of so-called social justice!
Of course we expect an open mind when we fail. Presumably because ours was not so bad, not really. You don’t know me! So, it goes. Then a scandal breaks and the media feeds the feeding frenzy by storming off stage in a fit or rage and letting you know where they stand.
But there is a letter missing. A letter that adds clarity and truthfulness and is a humbling word that is fast becoming a desiccated symbol of a metaphorical and geopolitical hell . Bereft of logic and reliant upon emotions, the best and the brightest (self-aggrandizement at it’s worst) declare to us unwashed, trailer trash adults as intellectual deadbeats.
I want to buy the vowel ‘E”. And adding this one small letter is to completely reframe humanity as more ‘humane’. Fed by a narcissistic media and spin-meisters our society resembles the Catholic Crusades or Islamic Jihad. But the most pernicious fly-in-the-ointment is ‘Political Correctness’. By using this tactic the vocabulary becomes constricted like the Orwellian language of INGSOC where more is less or less is more depending on the current translation of the words. Or the King’s English?
To many, the News is a TV dinner full of political preservatives and false calls to justice and action. They are probably the most guilty, the Ken-dolls waxing euphemistically at over their own cant and hyperbole. As a person with a severe anxiety disorder, finding calm and relative bliss can be a chore. Now couple those obstacles that everyone else shares is beyond me.
What Tiger Woods did is none of your business aside from the smarmy details and since I do not care about such things, it is of no interest to me and it shouldn’t to you. Find a hobby, pick your nose or find your Ouija Board. Don’t tell me they deserve it because they are celebrities. I am no fan of celebrities but I do not get carping on others what a lot of you have done. Yes, some of you do these things or worse and that includes a few woman as well.
I have never understood the logic behind that or worrying about Janay Rice unless you care about her predicament and help her now that Ray Ray does not have a job. That’s none of your concern either but a matter which involves their family and they have the right to privacy. They did not sign a waiver to make a lot of money thus forfeiting their rights to a bunch of truncated vigilantes with severe boundary issues.
Ray did very wrong and needs to learn that he can never do such things and then gets . To say it is all abuse of women smells of sticking your hooked nose and split tongue into matters which have no bearing on your own life. And anyway, who are beating these drums? The feminists see a chance to intervene with the end game being only their opinions. Cause and effect but the underlying issues are painted over with peace signs and slogans.
The dogmas are so entrenched and accepted that it seems any aspersion cast upon Republicans is true and means you hate the poor, favor the rich, etc. One of those bits of hyperbole would be that a person is greedy if they are a Young Republican. This is a common depiction and is accepted.
People have to stop piling on to people for sport or a good story. Many players still support him and the fans who returned their jerseys did so, because they can get a new one. Hopefully their is a commissioner’s dunce cap for falling prey to the pressures of hypocritical genuflecting idiots.
My blogs are relatively obscure because I go out of my way not to as popular with the wrong crowd. One individual said my lack of followers and comments invalidate my opinions! Really? That’s like throwing spaghetti against a wall, some will stick. Truth or Consequences?
Now let’s look at some things that go entirely not commented on. Look at any young lady/woman who makes it big and you get the eventual playboy cover. Many of them will be featured in a movie in short shorts or panties then are slain by some sociopath or horny alien. The same media that harps on treating women right, but do you EVER see them doing anymore than that? No, never! The best you get is still all about them. (The media).
Wait that guy hit a horse. I should protest protesting is cool.
And as far as younger females go, they are off-limits until they reach 18 (The Olsen Twins, Molly Cyrus) and just about legal team becomes fair game. The song Plush by Stone Temple Pilots depicts the sense of urgency to deflower purity and to scandalize, so is it any mystery that the message gets out and it is largely media of some sort that perpetuates virginity is some kind of weirdness that MUST be slain. The confusing scene of sexuality and violence seem to correlate into a seamless package of adolescent dynamite.
These same architects of depravity will deny any part of the malaise that helped to foment. Of course they could blame us or blame Ray Rice for his stupidity but you sure want to bury him and his career. The unintended consequence is family security but all of that is out the window now because liberal progressives are unrelenting and are mission first. The party of tolerance is anything but. The thing with Adrian Peterson is even more personal as his reputation will never recover! This is NOT about football, this is about cleaning your own attics and basements.
Some of the fervor does not match the rhetoric nor offers any solutions other than castrating all men and do away with all sports. Yeah that’s you. You have no suggestions outside scarlet letters and editorial denouncements. Editorials means ever having to say you are sorry, even though you might be. James Brown of the NFL. Do not condescend to me or other men. Those bad guys (gals) deserve redemption, even if you do not agree.
Outside of Christmas and perhaps Thanksgiving they help the needy but do they do this behind the scenes or with a microphone and a fake smile? No, because this is a playground where actors and media dress up like us and pretend to be us. Only, we know it is a ruse. Like an errant preacher, police officer or a teacher, they are all about chances. Chances they did not give to others! Their misfortune is not any sort of vindication sought, but that their perceived holiness is not assailed.
Janay’s life was miserable at times but how could I know that unless she said so? And those people who are falsely accused remember the gallows of judgment that is worn as white sheets endorsed by grand-standing politicians. A chief of police with dozens if keyed up rabble-rousers with hopes of becoming the next big thing.
Erstwhile Barbies with faces meant for Halloween and the sad slow march into an old folks home where the deer and the antelope roam, with visions of scrapbooks and compliments lost in favor of denizen of new generations. The pretty little womanlettes garnering the drools and slanders of a hungry set of ravenous coffee-stained dentures and a deer rack in your garage. This is the backdrop to the great witch-hunts. Only you you .
George W. Bush did not serve a fake turkey to troops but that Urban Myth was grudgingly admitted to. With the media they do it with roaming bands of rich, out of touch sociopaths with cameras and an agenda. Stop the hate!!!
I love that speech and admire the kind words about President George W. ush and if for no other reason, because we should respect the office and their decisions and stop trying to ruin each other. Because in the end, we all fall short and my attempt is to get people to stop being ruthless to each other. Diversity is gift. Trust me on that.
“I won’t insult your intelligence by suggesting that you really believe what you just said.”
― William F. Buckley Jr.
So now we have yet another controversy (Ray Rice) because men and women alike to ply controversy as along as it does not indict them or their perceptions about themselves. A trio of cases has made the news and those ready to capitalize on them, will. (Ray Rice, Adrian Peterson and Ferguson) But like any person who benefits from these kind of cases are not about solutions. These kinds want to feeled vindicated over something that has no relevance to their own lives.
They are just lazy haters with no plan. The longer this goes on the less time there is to judge their own missteps and that includes me. They have a belly full of self-righteous indignation and no one to blame. Except for the vulnerable who they CLAIM to care about.
Those who wish to bash Janay Rice taking her longer view of this situation, I want to slap! Sure Ray Rice has done the unthinkable and their indeed needs to be consequences. But the most strident critics are those with things to hide or some other agenda. Or you have the guys who like to present a virtual dialogue, accusing others of racism, sexism, misogyny or whatever their minds decide.
These decisions are born of haste, arrogance and the unfetter cacophony of a lynch mob. Like the Salem Witch-hunts come in various arrays, finding some niche in which a person can ruin another. It is that simple. People do because they can. Just like those dysfunctional sex bombs on Jerry Springer. What is most fascinating about that ‘trainwreck’ is how old flash me some boobs Springer is like a prurient slinky in Chinatown offering some sage advice to people who wantonly exploit each other.
Then are the raucous and indecorous sniggles at a woman objectifying herself by showing her boobs. This diminishingly embarrassing behavior in encouraged. Some of these very same people are cheering while teenagers are deemed sex offenders by showing their bodies to their friends and classmates who get an eyeful. So who made you God? You cannot even run your own life as the song so aptly put it. Now, you wish to destroy Rice, Peterson and Tiger Woods. I can bet my life that some of you have done worse.
You talk about helping women? You lie! Aside trying to ruin the lives of the guilty the world has not changed one bit. You are part of the problem as long as there is clamoring and no one is listening. How else can anything ever get better? Aside from the punitive actions and laws you offer no change in the patterns of abuse.
Hillary had one thing right, that is literally does take a village to make things like bullying, abuse and terrorism abate. Not even a plan just demands of justice. Taking on the victim like Ray’s wife and making it all about you! You are complicit in bringing more pain to the world. You have made the victim’s life harder whilst you munch on Doritos and beat your dog. Yeah, I know you did this!
or there is this!
Let’s take charge of our own and stop letting disinterested parties decide our fate and I mean us all. We all go around not trying to effect change as practically as we can and bomb aspirin factories and tell everyone else how nice we are. We are never as good or as bad as we want others to believe.
I have lied and have stolen things and have deceived and maybe they may or may not have been crimes but I do not go around giving everyone else a scarlet letter or accuse of them of being a witch, child molester or a serial cheater of some kind.
It’s like the show (movie) ‘Mean Girls’. A revealing look at the innate nature of us all and even those who we thought were incapable of such things.
I like ‘House’. Does that make me an abuser or a victim? Does calling a peaceful church goer affect you? And why do you think anyone owes YOU an apology? Everybody hurts some times.
It is hard enough to make it in this life without lighting another fire and while we may not have this particular tragedy over our heads we can assure others than there are those who really do care.
It was during the peak of the Vietnam War that a Soap Operative evolved from an ordinary into a cult classic. I was only 10 years old and I crushed over the all girls but my favorite was the innocent Victoria Winters (Alexandra Moltke) who is still alive.
The girl is to the left is the fictional Sarah Collins, the cherubic and sad victim of witchcraft in the series who is only about a year or two younger than myself. She is 57. On the right of course was the star-crossed maiden who was the focus of Barnabas Collins. There was a bit of controversy over her, that she played a dumb girl with no sense but Victoria was the innocence that seems out of vogue these days.
As an aside, she was married to a famous man herself who was very rich and was suspected of murdering a past wife before Alexandra. If I am not mistaken he was a billionaire in the 70s. But she was the glue along with Maggie Evans/Josette. Barnabas tried to kill the evil witch Angelic, but she put a curse on him and he turned to a vampire.
Angelic really screwed up his life and Barnabas was star-crossed by the young beauties.
Who can blame him really? The actors were recycled through the winding plots when the term ‘narrative’ hardly existed and purity of heart when in vogue. Sadly the star whose real name is Jonathan Frid passed away in April 2012. With his passing I felt loss, both as Barnabas the vampire and the actor. The cast members (those remaining) still collect royalties from fan clubs and appearances.
Shot originally in black and white, which gave the macabre effect of something ancient and mysterious and even the cemetery seemed surreal. The episodes had quite a few mistakes and fortunately they were not edited out. I have the entire series on DVD which not ironically is in a coffin. The feel, the actual aura gives the viewer a sense of life and the death which are underscored as cast members die.
We are left to ruminate over the scenes and haunting music and the narration of Vicky. Her voice portrayed a laconic yet powerful burst of other worldness. It’s like dying yourself, a tragic person trying to find love in the most strange and awkward. It seems as Barnabas was coming of age despite his age and happiness just out of reach and you felt sorry for his pain and bad luck.
This was called the ‘Old House’ were some of the series darkest secrets, with coffins and caveats and expiring young ladies and tragic children with melancholy natures and secrets too terrible for children so young. Giving the idea of paradox and wistful associations.
This old house was a treasure trove of restless ghosts and troubled children while the young adult girls were the food of these particular gods. As a virtual child myself when computers were like the size of the WOPR on War games. (the movie).
The then young Vicky is around 67 and yet my affections have not changed and I am no stalker but I know I am not alone in that or the debates which naturally happen with cult followers, Much like the survivors of Auschwitz, the leading men and ladies enter for real into a place of dreams and conclusions.
Poor Vicky, the girl who appeared on a teen magazine was actually younger the Elizabeth Stoddard who was supposed to be around 16-17. So, I guess my be my way back to a time when I could be lost in nostalgia and pine for that kind of happiness that youth and dreams confer.
As she was about to be hanged she disappeared. She was kind of like a Jack in the Box with regards to séances and one has to wonder about the psycho-sexual component of the virgin’s predicament. I think she was getting a bit anxious about being a seemingly helpless waif and wanted to move on. These days she remembers this all a bit more fondly as I am sure the teen boys in the 60s and early 70s would and will appreciate.
So as we march to the Stairway to our own heavens, we glide past signs and seasons to an inevitable end and if the journey is replicated by long dusky hallways and a row of doors on either side, I will take what is behind door #2. No reason but a spontaneous relish for the sublime and poetically sad riffs like a waning tide. To a place where, we are just long forgotten shadows and a dream to the newer batch of melancholy souls.
I went a System of a Down Concert a few years ago. Their music is right in many ways and on many issues. For example, they had a song called, The Prison Song! Not only was the music and program awesome, but the song became personal.
At the end of the event as people were exiting a few decided to climb over railings and beat the crowd out of the Sun Dome. But one of the police/guards, whatever they call them decided to say get down or they would be arrested! These young people need not to be threatened but they were!
Being a renown smart-ass I shouted, “They’re trying to build a prison!!!”. Hails of laughter swept through the crowd as a response to the scene and to the police’s actions against the students.
I was watching the News and saw the many dirty conditions in Africa and the threat that poverty has become generational in so many places. Africa, who lives there and do they have faces? The easy answer is, YES!
Now what happens to Gwyneth Paltrow when there is another crash in the stock market? Like one day she will be that actress who did not garner many fans and her natural beauty fades? There is so much hunger and poverty in the world and yet she looks down on others?
Too many people in Hollywood find their best gucci shoes and sunglasses to mask the ugliness in their hearts. Sad too, because many people look up to that wandering cesspool of self-righteousness robots until they too become frail and then want to have someone to care. I would but then again only because she is in need.
Are we better than these, Gwyneth? Could you tell her that her children do matter? Do they need to make 100,000 dollars per year and will cry over the graves of the starving, sick and homeless victim of circumstances?
Go to work as a volunteer as a support group facilitator. That nation also suffers this damnable Ebola breakout. And the headline below:
Ebola cases appear in DR Congo; doctor given promising drug dies in Liberia
And these people tell us how it is? And sports are no better!
And just so true. I have a seizure disorder and I know how it feels to be a soup line, sleeping in my car with a cat. I know of two more veterans, one who has terminal cancer and the other a 78 year old who car is full of “Stuff” and he goes to places where he can to get out of heat or cold, such as the case may be. I have an entrepreneurial idea that I plan to share to those woe begotten cardboard box souls.
Cops showed him, didn’t they?
Warring with virtual corpses in a mad dash to nowhere and regardless of petty crimes, we acquiesce and even endorse their actions against the unfortunate. There are people who have Asphasia, tri-geminal neuralgia (tic douloulreux ). Many are bi-polar, poorly educated and not too cogent. Cops know not enough to attend them properly but rather do what you see above.
Bill Maher: “This country is becoming a police state, it is very troubling to me”
Our muses can be a backdrop to tragedy or romance or maybe both. Like a land lost or perhaps never appreciated. The neglected places evoke memories of a secret nightmare in a three-dimensionable world both exclusive and shared with one or more.
The silhouettes like palm fronds on a channel quiet measuring the years by colors by the seasons and washing away wistful prayers, odes to antiquity.
Some prefer the lights, the confusion and the din but I want to live life not as part of an ant farm in some condemned city of rats and dirty hazes.
Floyd, Times Are Changin 