Human Head Thinks Big

The Banal Noises of Escalation

2009-12-02T01:06:00.003-07:00

In light of the Escalation Speech from the Anti-War Peace Prizer, and alongside the Serious, Respectable, Pragmatic Media assailing the human mind on a daily basis:

Politics and the English Language, by George Orwell, 1946

"In our time it is broadly true that political writing is bad writing. Where it is not true, it will generally be found that the writer is some kind of rebel, expressing his private opinions and not a "party line." Orthodoxy, of whatever color, seems to demand a lifeless, imitative style. The political dialects to be found in pamphlets, leading articles, manifestoes, White papers and the speeches of undersecretaries do, of course, vary from party to party, but they are all alike in that one almost never finds in them a fresh, vivid, homemade turn of speech. When one watches some tired hack on the platform mechanically repeating the familiar phrases -- bestial atrocities, iron heel, bloodstained tyranny, free peoples of the world, stand shoulder to shoulder -- one often has a curious feeling that one is not watching a live human being but some kind of dummy: a feeling which suddenly becomes stronger at moments when the light catches the speaker's spectacles and turns them into blank discs which seem to have no eyes behind them. And this is not altogether fanciful. A speaker who uses that kind of phraseology has gone some distance toward turning himself into a machine. The appropriate noises are coming out of his larynx, but his brain is not involved as it would be if he were choosing his words for himself. If the speech he is making is one that he is accustomed to make over and over again, he may be almost unconscious of what he is saying, as one is when one utters the responses in church. And this reduced state of consciousness, if not indispensable, is at any rate favorable to political conformity." [emphasis mine]

If you've never read this piece, click through and spend some time with the entire thing. If you've read it previously, click through and revisit. It's worth the time in either case.

At What Price

2009-11-22T05:11:00.002-07:00

Once in a long, long while, once in three years maybe, they brought a movie to camp. The film turned out to be--the cheapest kind of "sports" comedy--The First Glove. It was a bore. But from the screen they kept drumming into the audience the moral of the film:

The result is what counts, and the result is not in your favor.

On the screen they kept laughing. In the hall the audience kept laughing, too. But blinking as you came out into the sunlit camp yard, you kept thinking about this phrase. And during the evening you kept thinking about it on your bunk. And Monday morning out in line-up. And you could keep thinking about it as long as you wanted. And where else could you have concentrated on it like that? And slow clarity descended into your brain.

This was no joke. This was an infectious thought. It has long since been inculcated in our Fatherland--and they keep on inculcating it over and over. The concept that only the material result counts has become so much a part of us that when, for example, som Tukhachevsky, Yagoda, or Zinoviev was proclaimed...a traitor who had sidled up to the enemy, people only exclaimed in a chorus of astonishment: "What more could he want?"

Now that is a high moral plane for you! Now that is a real unit of measure for you! "What more could he want?" since he had a belly full of chow, and twenty suits, and two country homes, and an automobile, and an airplane, and fame--what more could he want?!! Millions of our compatriots find it unthinkable to imagine that a human being (and I am not speaking here of this particular trio) might have been motivated by something other than matereial gain!

To such an extent that everyone has been indoctrinated with and absorbed the slogan: "The result is what counts."

Whence did this come to us?

In the first place--from the glory of our banners and the so-called "honor of our Motherland." We choked, cut down, and cut up all our neighbors in our expansion--and in our Fatherland it became well established that: The result is what counts.

And then from our Demidov's, Kabans, and Tsybukins. They clambered up, without looking behind them to see whose ears they were smashing with their jackboots. And ever more firmly it became established among a once pious and openhearted people: The result is what counts.

And then--from all kinds of socialists, and most of all from the most modern, infallible, and intolerant Teaching, which consists of this one thing only: The result is what counts! It is important to forge a fighting Party! And to seize power! And to hold on to power! And to remove all enemies! And to conquer in pig iron and steel! And to launch rockets!

And though for this industry and for these rockets is was necessary to sacrifice the way of life, and the integrity of the family, and the spiritual health of the people, and the very soul of our fields and forests and rivers--to hell with them! The result is what counts!!

But that is a lie! Here we have been breaking our backs for years at All-Union hard labor. Here in the slow annual spirals we have been climbing up to an understanding of life--and from this height it can all be seen so clearly: It is not the result that counts! It is not the result--but the spirit! Not what--but how. Not what has been attained--but at what price.

--Alexander Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago, vol II, pp. 608-609

A Brief Illustration Of Psychological Enslavement

2009-08-08T18:37:00.022-06:00

"The greatest obstacle to discovery is not ignorance, it is the illusion of knowledge"
--Daniel Boorstin, 1984 Librarian of Congress

Recently my attention was drawn to a post called, Facist America: Are We There Yet? by Sarah on Dave Niewart's blog, Ornicus.

(I'll wait here while you read it)

My first thought after reading this was "If insight were water, this would be a dirty puddle in the bottom of a swimming pool long neglected, at best." I would have left it at that, but it made my head go **asplode** to the point I find myself compelled to expound.

While it's certainly true to say that I'm attacking this blog in particular, the larger goal of the exercise is to attack the mindset from which these things spring in general. This post exactly represents the problem with most 'notable' Lib/Progs on the blogs and on the teevee. It's always the conservatives, the right-wing, etc, that is the source of all our ills. It's amazing how the tone of this post lines up in remarkable fashion with Obama's speech the other day and its "get out of the way so we can clean up this mess" rhetoric. Despite concrete actions by the current administration that serve to not only continue, but strengthen, the 'conservative' policies and actions of the past administration that helped bring us this 'mess' in the first place (invasions of Iraq/Afghanistan/Packistan and rampant worldwide militarism, The Drug War, War on Terror, etc.--to say nothing policies/actions of the last six decades, at least), this ilk of Lib/Prog continues to march forward with their "We intellectual educated adults are so beset by the racist and oh-so dangerous right-wing masses" narratives, ad nauseum.

A few notes concerning this Ornicus drivel, masquerading as analysis:

First--What the above referenced post refers to as "The Teabag Movement" actually began with smaller, more independent MeetUp groups getting together to throw copies of the 9/11 Commission Report into the harbor (or whatever body of water happened to be close) to denounce its utterly deceptive and false nature, and to call it out for what it was - a cover-up for The Establishment. The various groups referred to their protests as Tea Parties (these began kicking off on or around Dec. 2006 if you want to look). From there, they morphed into continued agitation for a real investigation into 9/11 as well as increasingly strong protests of The Fed, as knowledge of its true nature (private, for profit) became more widespread, and also included a certain amount of agitation for the impeachment of The Crawford Caligula. Over the last three years, the issue of The Fed has grown in importance to the point that it has overshadowed cries of protest with regard to 9/11, and THIS is the point where the 'conservative' movement of FOX/Fredomworks/Beck/etc. set their machinery in motion to co-opt these and turn them into a spectacle of ignorance and ugliness, with a great deal of enthusiastic help from their own psychologically enslaved partisan followers. The "Teabag" movement and the fake controversy surrounding it is a media establishment creation, and of course it seems "sudden" to people who only pay attention to the Respectable and Serious MSM/Teevee, because prior to the "Teabag" moment, any mention of the Tea Parties or their true intent was largely blacked out in those arenas. "Issues" typically only make it into these mainstream spaces when they can be spun into something partisan and divisive, where supposedly 'intellectual' partisan blogs pick it up and echo/flog it according to their specializations (in the case of Niewart's blog, it's raceRepublicansraceRepublicansraceRepublicansraceracerace).

(and no, I'm not excusing or encouraging whatever 'conservative' NGO shenanigans/mobs may be doing in any way, shape, or form. But anyone who can't see that these true believer mobs exist and are encouraged by a controlling superclass on both sides aren't paying attention and/or don't want to see--more on this later, if I can carve out the time.)

Second--The "Omigawd the dirty ignorant Republican mobs are harassing our noble, hard-working Democrats and our wonderful el Presidente, preventing them from doing their good work!" subtext of this post is a wholly steaming pile. When the Democrats took back control of Congress, did they launch impeachment (or, dare we utter the uncivil word "criminal") proceedings against GW and his evil, racist conservative minions? Did they cut off the funding for the multiple wars of aggression that have thus far resulted in the slaughter of well over a million people? Of course they didn't. To this very day they continue funding and promoting these travesties, along with scores upon scores of additional criminal enterprises, and continue to protect the criminals that design, launch, and manage these operations because they themselves are an indisputable part of what is now nothing more than a gang of corrupt lower-tier nation-state managers who are complicit in the same. But psychologically invested Lib/Progs dare not speak of these things, especially since, other than Iraq (tut-tuttedly referred to so often as being "regrettable"), Afghanistan/Pakistan/etc. are now "the good wars". Yet another example of this is how The War on Terror/Omigodz Terrerists rhetoric, during GW's reign, was decried by these as the most awful and baseless demonizing towards brown people and the civilian population in general (it was and is), driving us to fascism (it was and is), until their side took the baton of power, and now constant references to "terrorists" is just dandy, because now it's time for 'the grown-ups' to worry about those right-wing "domestic terrorists/extremists" (a group that also includes, per various DHS reports, among others, veterans and people who talk about The Constitution). So says the mighty Homeland Security, the organization these same Lib/Progs once upon a time referred to (and were correct in doing so) as the new Gestapo.

Which leads us finally to....

Third--"Every day that the conservatives in Congress, the right-wing talking heads, and their noisy minions are allowed to hold up our ability to govern the country is another day we're slowly creeping across the final line beyond which, history tells us, no country has ever been able to return."

"Our" ability to govern. Oh, that's rich.

This sentence is completely emblematic of the psychological enslavement exhibited by those trapped in the Left/Right quagmire. Devotees on each side are made to feel like they are somehow an integral part of the power structure, even though nothing could be further from the truth; they are merely willing cogs that reinforce and perpetuate a predatory power structure that is wholly non-partisan (Internationalist Corporatism--hot damn, an -ist and an -ism together!). This power structure in its modern form fully understands and has largely perfected the age old technique of Divide and Conquer/Rule, implemented through their various media proxies. Intelligence/COINTELPRO has long referred to those susceptible to these identity politics ("I'd sure like to clear some brush/have a beer/drive a truck with that guy cuz I'm a country boy like him"/"Look, he's black just like me! He must be good!"/"Yes We Can!" feel good slogans/etc.) as 'useful idiots', cynically herded into groups by a steady diet of PR-hackery fed through the teevee. These true believers are attentive at each and every puppet show, cheering and writing wildly, smugly self-assured that there are no strings, or that said strings only exist at that other 'crazy/racist/dangerous' puppet show on the opposite end of the partisan divide.

Such 'analysis' is nothing less than frenzied brass-polishing on the Titanic. The partisan situation as a whole is little more than mobs cheering on their respective figurehead captains as the two fight over a decorative steering wheel. Meanwhile, the ship continues to move all groups as one, straight on towards the devastating iceberg looming ever larger, never actually changing course, and only grudgingly giving the appearance of doing so every now and again.

Malcolm X spoke words worth keeping in mind while considering the supposedly 'insightful' Left/Right blogs and watching the misleading 'political analysis' and latest race-baiting Special Report on the teevee "news":

"There were two kinds of slaves, the house Negro and the field Negro. The house Negroes — they lived in the house with master, they dressed pretty good, they ate good because they ate his food — what he left. They lived in the attic or the basement, but still they lived near the master; and they loved the master more than the master loved himself. They would give their life to save the master's house — quicker than the master would. If the master said, "We got a good house here," the house Negro would say, "Yeah, we got a good house here." Whenever the master said "we," he said "we." That's how you can tell a house Negro.
[...]
If the master's house caught on fire, the house Negro would fight harder to put the blaze out than the master would. If the master got sick, the house Negro would say, "What's the matter, boss, we sick?" We sick! He identified himself with his master, more than his master identified with himself. And if you came to the house Negro and said, "Let's run away, let's escape, let's separate," the house Negro would look at you and say, "Man, you crazy. What you mean, separate? Where is there a better house than this? Where can I wear better clothes than this? Where can I eat better food than this?" That was that house Negro. In those days he was called a "house nigger." And that's what we call them today, because we've still got some house niggers running around here."

You're human beings, goddammit. Your lives have value. Shut off your teevee, shut down your partisanship, and stop being the House Negroes your rulers expect and train you to be.

Yeah, Still Gardening

2009-07-14T18:25:00.002-06:00

You can view my set on Flickr here, if ya like.

Fruits (of the Devil)

2009-07-01T00:49:00.002-06:00

Per usual, my friends, time is short. I'm finding plants to be pretty nifty things. It's like being a conductor...in extremely slow motion.

Those interested in more pics/details can view my Flickr set here.

And of course, as is to be expected, the wunderkind is keeping us on our toes.

See ya when I see ya.

Prioritizing

2009-06-08T14:23:00.003-06:00

There just isn't any time for writing right now, so here is a picture summary of the last six weeks. Writing is worthwhile, but for now these things seem more so. Thus, my time has been devoted to them.

Memorial Day Reading: War Is A Racket, by Major General Smedley Butler

2009-05-23T22:24:00.002-06:00

war is a racket

Publish at Scribd or explore others: Non-fiction war racket

Money as Debt

2009-05-16T23:18:00.002-06:00

A good overview. Well worth the 45 mins, and certainly time better spent than watching I Can Take A Bigger Dump Than You (or whatever the hell they're putting on the rube tube these days).

Money as debt

Am I allowed to say Hitler Youth now?

2009-05-15T04:31:00.010-06:00

"The faculty of stopping short, as though by instinct, at the threshold of any dangerous thought. It includes the power of not grasping analogies, of failing to perceive logical errors, of misunderstanding the simplest arguments if they are inimical to Ingsoc, and of being bored or repelled by any train of thought which is capable of leading in a heretical direction. In short....protective stupidity."-- Crimestop, Orwell's definition

Scouts train to fight terrorists, and more. (Here's the slideshow.)

(and MORE. Remember that.)

Seems I've previously spoken of similar things.

But gosh, you can't believe any of that stuff, right? We should all just take those DHS Right-Wing Extremism and Left Wing Extremism reports* with a grain of salt. After all, the system loves us and wants to protect us (and the children, always the children!). You'll note the mentions of "leaderless resistance" in BOTH. Don't like what your gov't is doing? Too bad! Oh yeah, we're sending a SWAT team because you're obviously a leaderless extremist.

*these reports are only two brief summaries out of a giant pile of much more extensive official material.

Here's your future, and in case you're just not "into reading", here's the official site.

The totalitarian security apparatus is for you. Surprise!

The techniques involved in bringing in tyranny are always the same. Learn your history.

*****

Sorry it's been a couple weeks with nothing. I'm getting slammed with work and baby and planting things and making butter (that's right, making butter--it is THE BALLS). More substantive work is in the pipe and will (I hope) be finished shortly.

Scarred Earth

2009-05-02T02:12:00.008-06:00

I must have been about 10, which would have put my brother at age 8. There aren't too many concurrent details to include about this time other than to mention that, for various reasons, my ego had inflated itself to such a size that it was a miracle that it could support it's own weight. He had never liked school (for various reasons that no one bothered to ask about; reasons that likely wouldn't have been listened to if they had come up), and thus did not do well at it. It wasn't that he couldn't, he actively didn't. I enjoyed school more often than not (for various reasons that no one bothered to ask about-myself included; reasons that likely wouldn't have been listened to if they had come up), excelled at my studies, and gladly soaked up the consequent-but always very temporary-approval and accolades.

My father worked in a factory my whole life, a time when it was still possible to do such work for a wage that would support a family. But this was the 80's...the Gordon Gekko's of the world were being born, raised, and lifted up for our adoration, and adore these people, I did. I loved the suits. Slick and shiny was obviously the way to go, and of course this was supported by the fact that my father always tried to motivate by saying that I ddn't want to get stuck doing what he was doing, and that I should get a job where I work with my head instead of my hands. After all, God (my parents version) gave me the capability, and like God, the system we live in will love and reward those who exhibit diligent submission and faithfulness. The doctrines of religion and culture infused themselves one into the other, and it was around this time that I decided these things were manifest evidence that I was headed for great wealth and success. After all, I was nothing like my father. That was my brother's department. He was as much my father as I was my mother, a realization that would have come in very handy had I taken the time to think about it, given the manner in which my parents related to one another, or rather didn't, or couldn't, as was most often the case.

My brother and I were outside in the yard playing and messing around, and per usual, we began arguing about something. I can't remember the particulars of the thing but they aren't important, other than the particular that I was trying to impose my will in the same manner that the will of others was regularly imposed upon me, which is to say by way of a lot of screaming and/or physical force. Of course, as is always the case, conflict in this manner continues until both sides tire and the thing fizzles, never reaching any sort of conclusion or resolution. But on this day, as the thing wound down and my brother walked away I decided that it was time to pull out the big guns, saying something to the effect of "Yeah? Well it won't be too much longer and I'm going to be wildly successful and rich, and you're such an idiot you're going to be stuck working in a factory your whole life."

The ignorance and cruelty in that sentiment is so heinous and unbounded that it's difficult to leave its admission sitting on the page.

It wasn't until later on the next day, when I noticed my father not only wasn't speaking to me, he wasn't even looking at me. I couldn't figure out why. I asked, but any response was clipped and generally short. Something was obviously very wrong, and in my ego-haze, I just couldn't imagine what that might be. But there was no question it had something to do with me, so I persisted in my inquiries because it had been two days and I was starting to freak out a little bit. Finally, what should have been more than obvious was finally made clear. My brother hadn't "tattled" or run off to Mommy and Daddy. He was so crushed that they noticed immediately and made him come clean. It couldn't have been difficult. He was too small a vessel to bear such poison and his cup naturally ran over, splashing onto my father, and as we stood there on the porch three days later and he told me what the problem was, the true virulence of this thing I had unleashed made itself known. He wasn't angry like I had come to expect. I could see in his eyes that I had cut deeply enough that it was still all he could do try and stop the bleeding. There is no room for anger when pain is all-encompassing.

If my statement had affected my father, a grown man, so deeply, then its effect on my brother was surely more consequential. Of course that statement has the benefit of hindsight, because at the time I was so simultaneously awed and shamed by just the abstract of what I had done I couldn't apologize enough. Its prominence in my mind slowly ebbed away over time, but while the statement 'time heals all wounds' may be a correct one, it's worth remembering that when wounds heal they tend to leave scars, and scars have a tendency to hang around much longer.

*****

I haven't seen my brother in about three years now, and I'm supposed to be going back to the Midwest to visit soon. While we haven't seen each other in some time, we tend to speak on the phone once every week or two and such calls usually last an hour or more in what I thought were amicable arguments/discussions regarding the goings on of the world. Evidently this is not so, considering the hostility with which I was suddenly blindsided this evening, based on my arguing the demonstrable point that feeling some way about a thing is not the same as actual knowledge and/or experience of the thing. The response to this was quite suddenly 'oh, you just think you're so much smarter' and 'try to dumb it down for us country bumpkins', etc. Way out-of-bounds stuff that was completely unjustified given the topic at hand. I don't need to further belabor the details of how the discussion further devolved and ended with nothing accomplished because it was something that didn't really need to happen in the first place.

After spending a bit of time nursing my righteous indignation the above memory, stark and ugly, "reappeared out of nowhere" as they say, provided an opportunity to practice the very thing I constantly preach, which is that we must try and understand the other side of a thing instead of trying to make ourselves feel better about being correct on a specific point. It's not that I think my brother harbors a grudge that's two decades old, but at the same time it seems like it would be ignorant to ignore the ways in which our past has the ability to color our present. It is much easier to dwell on how right we are than it is trying to understand why the person we are at odds with thinks we are wrong, but making efforts to gain this understanding, whether our individual indignations are justified or not will prevent the empty hostilities which cause us to arrive in these situations to begin with.

The scars that we inflict, just as much as the ones we carry, all have a great deal to say. Perhaps that's the reason they stay around so long.

You Got Swined

2009-04-28T23:11:00.005-06:00

(I've been monopolized over the last couple of days with errands and trying to give the Mrs. a break from the frenetic wunderkind. At least one of the pieces I thought would be ready by now just isn't, so in the meantime I thought I would try and jot down a few broad thoughts on the recent 'scare')

'Don't Panic' and 'Chill Out' signals are beginning to work their way to the surface. The collective breathes it's sigh and folks ease back to "normal" as fast as their minds will take them. While panic (even the perfectly warranted or understandable kind) should be avoided at all costs, chilling out to any great extent might not be the best idea. Things haven't been chill for nearly a decade, and become even less so with the passing of each day.

On 4/27 I wrote as a note on my shared items with this article:

Insider company with deep roots/history/connections, in another oops! moment at the same time coordinated national pandemic exercises are occurring or in the process of ramping up.

New Orleans style Beta Test, ramped up to the global level.

(yeah, yeah, I said ramped twice. Haste coments dernt make gut grammerz)

Beta Testing. Two little words that should be at least tickling the edges of all consciousness, even the most television-laden one. You've seen this before. Hell, you see/hear/read about it practically every day. It's all over the television, cinema, newspapers, and magazines; fiction and non-fiction alike blend into a seamless version of 24-hour Prime Time Apocalypse. The man on teevee adjusts the look on his face to match his serious tie and reads what someone else wrote while a parade of experts tut-tut about how the problem is that we just aren't letting the experts work, that they need more ~~power and money~~ tools to do their Very Serious Jobs and time is running just oh so short with all of the Global ~~Warming~~ Climate Change, Global Pandemic/Plague, Global Economic Collapse, and Global Intercontinental Super Extra Vicious IslamaChristoFundist Terror that is going to consume us all and most likely all at once in a raging Fiery Armageddon Finale. The version of the world presented to us is a nightmare Sesame Street, a delicious Pavlovian recipe of short and easily-digestible Fear Jingles blended smoothly for a long-lasting apathy with the great taste of learned-helplessness.

Psychological testing....testing...

For anyone just absolutely convinced that all of our systems and agencies and 'authorities' are here to help everyone, consider how many Declarations of Emergency there were in states and countries all over the world and just how fast all of the Serious National/International Institutions kicked into gear for less than 200 deaths over at least a few days. Now, consider that in just one day, over 100K die from starvation (the modern Orwellian term here is "Hunger Mortality"--mmm, just smell the wonderful sanitized and disinfected air provided by the scientific dictatorship. 72 degrees in your head, all the time.) . Where are the Emergency Meetings and Declarations for this? Where's the Benevolent Machine taking Bold Action (as they say) -- massive emergency funding of farms big and small? Where are the national and international pushes towards horticulture and the spread of heirloom seeds rather than harmful GMO? The truth of this disparity stares at us every day in various forms, but it has lived with us for so long very few see it any longer, if they ever saw it to begin with. There is no real concern for life in any form under this system other than the PR impression you're given. True support will be for Banks and Bombs and Officialdom in general with all of their cheap slogans and people uttering the same until morale improves and consumption increases again. The Official Gears moving so quickly on this one is indication of focused data collection exercises and the machine tuning itself for optimal herding in the future.

There are the reasons you're given, and then there are the real reasons.

And last, but certainly not least, while this may not have been "IT", you've been promised from all corners and in the most assured and certain terms that "IT" will surely happen soon. Lots of chaos cards to be played. It's like Go Fish in hell.

Don't panic, but don't just chill out either. This is Incrementalism in action. Remember it, because you'll surely be seeing some more of it very soon.

Closer to the dream, a celebrity outs himself

2009-04-20T01:56:00.003-06:00

While you're waiting -- 4/16/2009

2009-04-16T23:08:00.009-06:00

I'm working on some more posts, but these things take time. Until then....

Twitter, Fuck Yeah.

Otis nailed it down:

The key to appreciating Twitter is to accept that it is just a thing. It’s not a revolution. It’s not the second coming of Edward R. Murrow. It’s not even all that brilliant. It’s just a cool little tool that can be great in the right hands. It’s easy to be disappointed by something you hold up as important. So, don’t hold Twitter up. Use it or don’t use it, as long as you don’t expect the second coming to be preceded by a “@believers I’m on my way.”

Truly, it is great fun trying to cram as much as possible into those tiny message constraints. Pretty soon, we'll have Tweeted so much into so little that we'll be able to Tweet everything into nothing. That said, I'm currently working in the interim on achieving The Grand Tweet, hailed by all as a pinnacle of both brilliance and revolution. It could come at any time, so make sure you're following me.

Work continues on updating the long neglected virtual home. I finally converted over to a white background (I resisted this previously due to my heightened racial sensitivity), new uniform (for the most part) color scheme, and a new header, so you need not fear clicking over to the site itself any longer.

*****

America, Fuck Yeah.

Obama to release OLC torture memos; promises no prosecution for CIA officials--Glenn Greenwald

The more one reads of this, the harder it is to credit Obama's statement today that "this is a time for reflection, not retribution." At least when it comes to the orders of our highest government leaders and the DOJ lawyers who authorized them, these are pure war crimes, justified in the most disgustingly clinical language and with clear intent of wrongdoing.

Tortured Logic: Obama Writes Off Old Crimes While Promoting New Outrages--Chris Floyd

>And cannot every criminal on the face of the earth now claim the Obama defense: "Surely, your honor, nothing will be gained by spending our time and energy laying blame for the past. So let's forget the fact that I (raped/murdered/robbed/tortured), and move forward, shall we?" For the Obama defense is nothing other than the Nuremberg defense: "I was only following orders. I was given assurance by the highest authority that my actions were legal in all respects." Is this what we have come to? Is that what now constitutes bold, progressive action? Is this, really, part of our "core values," an essential embedded component of our "national greatness?"

ACLU has the torture memos.

DHS "Rightwing Extremism" Document Created During Bush Administration--Kurt Nimmo

After the Department of Homeland Security’s report on “rightwing extremism” was leaked and posted on Infowars and other alternative news sites, so-called conservatives wasted little time blaming the Obama administration for the report.

However, recent evidence reveals the report has nothing to with the supposed “Marxist” (as Michael Savage and others would have it) persuasion of the Obama administration. It is a product created by a government not interested in the artificial divides of the right-left paradigm and concentrates on one primary objective – to demonize and criminalize all effective opposition. [emphasis mine]

The “Rightwing Extremism: Current Economic and Political Climate Fueling Resurgence in Radicalization and Recruitment” document was produced during the Bush administration, as a quick check of the PDF document’s properties reveals. It was created on January 23, 2007. In other words, the document is not a reflection of the supposed sinister political coloration of the Obama administration, said by many “conservatives” to be socialist or Marxist. It is a document produced specifically as part of a larger effort to demonize and eliminate all opposition regardless of political persuasion. [emphasis mine]
An earlier report produced by the Strategic Analysis Group, Homeland Environment and Threat Analysis Division of the DHS concentrated on “leftwing extremism”Leftwing Extremists Likely to Increase Use of Cyber Attacks over the Coming Decade), again demonstrating the government does not hold an ideological bias when it comes demonizing groups and individuals opposed to the government.

*****
Economics, Fuck Yeah.

Jesse's Cafe Americain--Goldman Sachs Buries Losses to Beat the Estimates, and This is Your Economy On Crack--and Heading for a Crack-Up.

Mish--Krugman In Need of Remedial Education, and Obama Bets it all on Failed Banksters (NOTE: the comments after this article from user 'Black Swan' are decidedly worth reading, especially if you're feeling smug and dismissive of "conspiracy theories", as Mish seemed to be while writing this one.)

*****

Applied Manipulation

2009-04-11T04:35:00.021-06:00

Glenn Greenwald lays out current circumstances quite plainly in his latest, Obama and habeas corpus--then and now:

"The Obama DOJ is now squarely to the Right of an extremely conservative, pro-executive-power, Bush 43-appointed judge on issues of executive power and due-process-less detentions. Leave aside for the moment the issue of whether you believe that the U.S. Government should have the right to abduct people anywhere in the world, ship them to faraway prisons and hold them there indefinitely without charges or any rights at all. The Bush DOJ -- and now the Obama DOJ -- maintain the President does and should have that right, and that's an issue that has been extensively debated. It was, after all, one of the centerpieces of the Bush regime of radicalism, lawlessness and extremism." [emphasis mine]

It would do well for everyone to read the post in it's entirety. Well-inured partisans of all stripes should perhaps to read it more than once. The subject matter of his post directly relates to a statement I made previously.

November 3, 2008--

"Both marquee candidates will continue the War Machine, both think the idea of domestic spying and retroactive immunization of the corporations that aided in the same is just dandy, and lest we forget, both were/are in full favor of robbing you and several more generations of large gobs of money to bailout the International Banks (oops, I mean, Stabilize the Economy), in spite of the loud and unequivocal “No” issued forth from the majority of citizens in this “democracy”. Of course this is only the very abridged, very short summary version to point out for the nth time that the only Change We Can Count On will be the exact opposite of what many people have fooled themselves into believing."

While the statement is correct in points of fact (illustrated by the GG post), the two words that I wrote, "fooled themselves", continues to hold my attention and demand further exploration with regard to Change We Can Believe In being an irrefutably false slogan.

From The Hidden Persuaders, by Vance Packard (1957), Chapter 17: Politics and The Image Builders [all emphasis mine]--

The Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology got into this seeming nonrational element in voters' thinking when it reported an experiment with people known to be either strongly pro- or anti-Democratic. [...] There was a clear tendency for them to forget the material that didn't harmonize with their own preconceived notions.

Several political commentators (Reston, Dorothy Thompson, Doris Fleeson are examples) took special note in 1956 of what they felt was the growing role of "personality" in American politics. Dorothy Thompson called it the "cult of personality." Sociologist David Riesman, in noting the same phenomenon, considered it a part of the trend to other-directedness in American Life. Americans, in their growing absorption with consumption, have even become consumers of politics. This has brought an increased emphasis on giving the nod to the best performer [read: Actors--HH]; and in evaluating performance the "sincerity" of the presentation has taken on increased importance. He pointed out, in The Lonely Crowd, "Just as glamour in packaging and advertising of products substitutes for price competition, so glamor in politics, whether as charisma--packaging--of the leader or as the hopped-up treatment of events by mass media, substitutes for the type of self-interest that governed the inner-directed."

Not only do the American people, the depth-probers concluded, want political leaders with personality, but in the Presidency they want a very definite kind of personality. Eugene Burdick, teacher of political theory at the University of California, made a study of the qualities of the perfect president while serving as fellow at the Center for Advanced Study in the Behavioral Sciences at Stanford. (this is the same Eugene Burdick who in 1956 brought out a best-selling novel The Ninth Wave on irrational trends in politics.) Dr. Burdick found that the perfect President doesn't arise out of great issues, but becomes "great" in our minds because of his personality. He becomes "great" to the degree that he becomes a "father image" in our minds. Burdick relates: "Recent polls and psychological studies reveal the extent to which the President has now become what psychologists call a 'father image' in the average American home." Burdick summed up (in This Week) a composite picture of the perfect president: "He is a man who has great warmth, inspires confidence rather than admiration, and is not so proper that he is unbelievable. He must have 'done things' in another field than politics, and he must have a genuine sense of humor. His stand on individual political issues is relatively unimportant...[who wants to have a beer/hang out with the guy?--HH]"

[...]

In early 1956 Nation's Business, which is published by the Chamber of Commerce of the United States, happily heralded the new, businessman's approach to politics. It proclaimed: "Both parties will merchandise their candidate and issues by the same methods that business has developed to sell goods. These include scientific selection of appeals [to emotion, ego, etc.--HH]; planned repetition.... No flag-waving faithfuls will parade in the streets. Instead corps of volunteers will ring doorbells and telephones.... Radio spot announcements and ads will repeat phrases with a planned intensity. Billboards will push slogans of proven power.... Candidates need, in addition to rich voice and good diction, to be able to look 'sincerely' at the TV camera...."

Indeed. Now, in order to ensure we do not labor under any illusions as to the nature of those "same methods that business has developed to sell goods", let's let the purveyor's speak for themselves.

Ibid, Chapter 3: So Ad Men become Depth Men--

"As early as 1941, Dr. Dichter [considered to be one of the fathers of Motivational Research] was exhorting ad agencies to recognize themselves for what they actually were--"one of the most advanced laboratories in psychology." He said the successful ad agency "manipulates human motivations and desires and develops a need for goods with which the public has at one time been unfamiliar--perhaps even undesirous of purchasing." The following year Advertising Agency carried an ad man's statement that psychology not only holds promise for understanding people but "ultimately for controlling their behavior."

As an illustration of the truth in these sentiments consider the following (keeping in mind Democrat, Republican, Being Green, USA!, etc., as brand concepts along with consideration of your own childhood and adult "education"):

Ibid, Chapter 15: Psycho-Seduction of Children (again, all emphasis and linking mine)--

"A firm specializing in supplying "education" material to schoolteachers in the form of wall charts, board cutouts, teachers' manuals made this appeal to merchants and advertisers: "Eager minds can be molded to want your products! In the grade schools throughout America are nearly 23 million young girls and boys. These children eat food, wear out clothes, use soap. They are consumers today and will be buyers tomorrow. Here is a vast market for your products. Sell these children on your brand name and they will insist that their parents buy no other. Many farsighted advertisers are cashing in today...and building for tomorrow...by molding eager minds" through Project Education Material supplied to teachers. It added reassuringly: "all carrying sugar-coated messages designed to create acceptance and demand for products...." In commenting on this appeal Clyde Miller, in his The Process of Persuasion explained the problem of conditioning the reflexes of children by saying, "It takes time, yes, but if you expect to be in business for any length of time, think of what it can mean to your firm in profits [and control-see Dichter statement--HH] if you can condition a million or ten million children who will grow up into adults trained to buy your product as soldiers are trained to advance when they hear the trigger words 'forward march.'"

[...]

When at the beginning of the decade television was in its infancy, an ad appeared in a trade journal alerting manufacturers to the extraordinary ability of TV to etch messages on young brains. "Where else on earth," the ad exclaimed, "is brand consciousness fixed so firmly in the mind of four-year-old tots?"...What is it worth to a manufacturer [or, say, a government captured by business--HH] who can close in on this juvenile audience and continue to sell it [on the many various aformentioned brands--HH] under controlled conditions year after year, right up to its attainment of adulthood and full-fledged buyer [voter--HH] status? It CAN be done. Interested?" (While the author was preparing this chapter he heard his own eight-year-old daughter happily singing the cigarette jingle: "Don't miss the fun of smoking!")

Over 40 years later, this HAS been done, and to great effect.

Have you been made a fool of (manipulated), or have you been fooling yourself (allowing the manipulation despite some level of awareness)? Only you as an individual can answer. Arriving at both honest and specifically defined answers to that question, as well as the path traveled to get there, is an inherently individual, private, and often painful struggle. The point is, time spent truly focused on this question becomes more of a necessity with each passing day as The Empire and consequent real-life conditions therein continue to deteriorate no matter who you vote for or what your "politics".

However you may have answered that question previously, now that a glimpse of the applied techniques of manipulation (that we were born into) has been shown, will you continue to go forth claiming the former in the face of persistent fact or will you recognize the existence of the latter (to whatever degree) and seek to change it?

All of our lives depend on these answers.

The Economic, another brief illustration.

2009-04-08T23:56:00.004-06:00

The Influence Game: Firms Reap Seeds of Lobbying

Anyone with any research on the subject of influence-peddling under their belt will see that the article treads in shallow, nay, surface-level waters. However, the shallow must be broken in order to go deep, as it were, so I'll use it.

"WASHINGTON (AP) -- Big companies that spent hundreds of millions lobbying successfully for a tax break enacted in 2004 got a 22,000-percent return on that investment -- proof that for those who can afford it, hiring a lobbyist can pay handsome dividends.

The figures, compiled by professors at the University of Kansas for a study to be released Thursday, offer a rarely seen glimpse of how the lobbying business works, and why -- even as President Barack Obama vows to curb lobbyists' influence -- the industry is booming as never before."

The spoils go to the true bi-partisan pragmatists, hiring former-actors to interface with current actors in service to an agenda/business plan.

"Lobbyists say they're not surprised by the findings, which prove what they tell their clients all the time: You can't afford not to have a seasoned Washington player on your team.
"There's literally no way that you can take an action in Washington by simply coming to town and sitting around on street corners waiting for it to happen -- you really do have to have professional help," said Robert S. Walker, a former Republican congressman whose firm Wexler & Walker Public Policy Associates lobbies heavily on transportation, health care, energy and trade matters. "It would be like going to court without a lawyer."

"...sitting around on street corners..." ought to tell everyone what they need to know (for the umpteenth time) regarding the true effectiveness of street protesting and other such action. I'll ask the question again from yesterday, "...how can anyone say with a straight face at this point that the Mass of Proles (to say nothing of the individual) has influence of any consequence on any of these things whatsoever?"

"But the data alarm some watchdog groups that worry ordinary Americans who can't afford representation by a well-paid lobbyist will lose out in debates with companies and interest groups who can."

Ah yes, the standard line trotted out, for "balance" of course. Gosh, ya think that might, perhaps, happen someday? I'm sure glad it's not the case now. Hurry everyone! We've got to Hope harder!

And lastly, the reason I decided to spend the time posting this...

"The nonpartisan group recently released a study comparing the amount spent by bailed-out banks on political contributions and lobbying with the amount of money they got from the Wall Street rescue fund, known as the Troubled Asset Relief Program. The results produced eye-popping rates of return, an overall 258,449 percent for the $114 million they spent on campaign donations and lobbying."

The Economic drives The Political.

Inter-Generational Interim

2009-04-05T00:24:00.008-06:00

(Note: Before beginning, it should be noted that while the questions referenced below were asked most recently by EasyCure, but are not at all unusual. They're same ones I'm hearing with increasing frequency from a very wide variety of people, which is why I'm trying to tackle them. The responses are in general and not specifically directed.)

Two questions were asked in the comments of the previous post:

Is there anything that can be done while working within the system, or does the system need to be dismantled?

"The System" is an all-encompassing term which will naturally mean different things to different people, based on their individual knowledge and experience. So, while it's difficult to narrow down an answer that retains some semblance of reasonable simplicity and accuracy while not encompassing several volumes when speaking of The System, it's worth a shot nonetheless.

Two definitions of the word system jump out from Merriam-Webster:

(1) f: a form of social, economic, or political organization or practice <the capitalist system>
5: an organized society or social situation regarded as stultifying or oppressive : establishment 2 —usually used with the

I think that both of the above will do well for our purposes, with one caveat. In regard to the first definition, I would assert that it is economic organization and practice that is the main driver of the social and political spheres (for at least the last couple of centuries). Placing them in a hierarchy, to my mind, would look thus: The Economic drives The Political, both working in tandem (through setup and institutional control of political parties, agencies, mulit-nationals, think-tanks, endowments, trusts, etc.--all functioning together as extensions of the economic arm ) to drive The Social. Of course, one could argue exceptions to this generalization, but that's why they're referred to as exceptions.

But no doubt about it, that motherfucker is oppressive.

Now, to draw nearer to an answer the first thrust of the question having to do with "working within the system", we must first address the latter portion asking if it needs to be dismantled.

The system does not "need to be dismantled". It is currently in the process of being dismantled, by design, right before our very eyes. This takedown has been in process for quite some time. If you disagree with this statement, then what, pray tell, do you think the controlling elements of this system are doing with their constant talk and promotion of New World Orders (which, by the way, I noticed yesterday in glancing at the teevee at work, that CNN has already in some spots, and in great Orwellian fashion, changed over to "New World Promise"), international currencies, global frameworks, rejecting "protectionism" in favor of the Free Trade rubric, the necessities of "regional governance" and other supra-national/international economic/political entities? Do you really think that it's simple stupidity/ignorance/naivete/greed that leads these power blocs to uniformly persist in their increasingly draconian restrictions of individual freedom, centralization of power, and their general "we need a bigger hammer" approach in all spheres of our existence? And lastly, throughout all of this, how can anyone say with a straight face at this point that the Mass of Proles (to say nothing of the individual) has influence of any consequence on any of these things whatsoever?

You are working within The System now, at this very moment, whether you like it or not. You were captured by it the moment you were born into this world. Your very survival depends on it (The Economic, remember?). The System as it has been, your shaped belief in it, your very reality, is being dismantled one piece at a time. The real question is, "Will you, as an individual*, continue to stand by and watch in a state of learned helplessness as a more restrictive and pervasive 2.0 version of The System (the blending of the communist and capitalist--privatized profits and socialized losses being one small but manifestly rampant and obvious example--with the technological/scientific control overlay) is constructed on the rubble of the old?"

*the many references to "the individual" above should not be taken in any way as some sort of evangelism toward the recently popularized Rand-ian narrative of "Going Galt". The cold hyper-individualism of the Rand philosophy is every bit as dangerous and counter-productive as any collectivist system, as both of these lure the individual (as well as the mass) to rigid and ultimately harmful extremes.

And so we go into the next question....

Is it enough to vote out every incumbent for the foreseeable future, or is full on revolution the only thing that will save us?

The first portion of this question is framed as though voting out every incumbent were a realistic possibility, and also seems to be based on the assumption that if indeed such a thing were possible, that the replacement would be better by default. (If it were possible to replace all incumbents with non-acting ham sandwiches I might be inclined to agree, but unfortunately for all of us, this is not the case.)

What is the biggest "factor" in modern electoral politics? What is the one commonality of every "election"? What is the one thing that is endlessly hyped; that crucial thing that makes candidates "electable"?

You know the answer to this as well as I do, and thus we find ourselves face to face once again with The Economic driving all things in The System, which compels me not to even get into discussions revolving around "Electing More and Better X".

As far as the last portion of the question, let's touch on the use of the words "full on revolution." It's another one of those statements that is very common, but is bound to mean many different things to many people. Also, in an effort to not drag out what has become a lengthy post, the reader might refer back to the above diatribe addressing the dismantling issue--the idea is the same. There is already a "full on revolution" happening, and it has been at work for some time. That fact that it has been working through very slow and consistent incremental methods (up to 2001, when it began speeding up noticeably and continues like a snowball rushing downhill) does not make it any less a "full on revolution."

I think the best way to finish these thoughts is to hit up Jaques Ellul once again. From (1964) The Technological Society, Chapter 6: A Look at the Future:

"A question no one ever asks when being confronted with the wonders of the future concerns the interim period.

[...]

When we reflect on the serious although relatively minor problems that were invoked by the industrial exploitation of coal and electricity, when we reflect that after 150 years these problems are still not satisfactorily resolved, we are entitled to ask whether there are any solutions to the infinitely more complex "hows" of the next forty years. In fact, there is one and only one means to their solution, a worldwide totalitarian dictatorship which will allow technique in its full scope and at the same time resolve the concomitant difficulties. It is not difficult to understand why the scientists and worshipers of technology prefer not to dwell on this solution, but rather to leap nimbly across the dull and uninteresting intermediary period and land squarely in the golden age. We might indeed ask ourselves if we will succeed in getting through the transition period at all, or if the blood and the suffering required are not perhaps too high a price to pay for the golden age." [take special note here, and think anew on the constant calls for "necessary sacrifice" that emanate from the "elected" godheads--HH]

****

These two questions serve as brief illustrations of how we've been systematically taught to think in specific directions. However, it has become exceedingly apparent that the answers and directions we're given in our thought rituals are essentially horseshit. What will we do? Furthermore, what will YOU do?

This will become more clear when I/you/we begin asking better questions, the one's that we're taught/herded into avoiding, about both ourselves and the world around us. The countless victims of the Interim Periods require it.

Consider the Effects

2009-03-24T00:45:00.007-06:00

I found a stream this morning and watched the announcement of Timmeh Geithner's "new" plan (details of which were "leaked" all through the weekend) this morning, and then spent my free chances throughout the day reading what some others had to say about it. Much of it was very, very silly.

(Not a single "bold and swift" plan goes by where I'm not amazed anew at the persistence with which people insist on continuing to frame these things in partisan terms, as though it's Bush's, Obama's, or hell, even Clinton's fault. These guys have little or nothing to do with anything unless it involves reading off a teleprompter, doing photo ops, signing papers that are set in front of them, and collecting their payoffs for the same.*

These are just the obvious and recent examples, of course.

Granted, Obama stil has to get through the next four years before he starts getting the real payoffs, but I'm sure the Executive perks serve to tide him over fairly well. Bush, well his payoffs have begun, but at a lower rate due not to "bad performance" as most are trained to think, but rather "bad performance" in that he was even more of an embarrassing and excessively drunken monkey than his handlers thought he would be. Clinton's performance has maintained (he was always very good at performing) and he continues to be rewarded regularly en route to deeper degrees of Elder Statesman status and prestige.)

Sorry about that digression. It's often difficult to refrain.

Oh yes, New Bold and Swift Economic Plans, by Timmeh. If you haven't gotten down and dirty with the details, I enjoyed Mish's roundup a great deal, and I promise you'll certainly get more out of it than reading the Serious and Respectable rags.

That being said, in thinking about the extent to which the public (and many, many future generations) are being looted and pillaged, along with all of the vastly silly partisan and/or generally false writing about the same--serving to further distract everyone taking part in The Great Circus-- I thought I might share some bits of truth from Jaques Ellul's The Technological Society.

From Chapter 5, Human Techniques:

Some effects of propaganda, however, are already clear.

1) The critical faculty has been suppressed by the creation of collective passions [see: Bush Hate, Obama Worship, blind partisanship in general--HH].

[...]

The suppression of the critical faculty--man's growing incapacity to distinguish truth from falsehood, the individual from the collectivity, action from talk, reality from statistics, and so on--is one of the most evident results of the technical power of propaganda. Human intelligence cannot resist propaganda's manipulation of its subconscious [focus on the use of the word "subconscious" here--this is what television programming speaks to directly, and how the opinions of the mass are formed--HH].

2) A good social conscience appears with the suppression of the critical faculty. [see, for example: Lowering your "carbon footprint"--HH]

3) Propaganda technique, moreover, creates a new sphere of the "sacred." As Monnerot puts it: "When and entire category of events, beings, and ideas is outside criticism, it constitutes a sacred realm, in contrast to the realm of the profane." [see: current widespread assertion that the "debate" on ~~Global Warming~~ Climate Change, 9/11, etc. has been settled.--HH]

As you consider these points there is one last thing that's worth mentioning, I think. These words were published in 1964.

The effects of our Modern Life must be considered. We ignore them at our peril.

The Ides of Spring

2009-03-22T02:38:00.007-06:00

Perhaps it's the increasing appearance of the sun as spring pushes its way to the forefront. The fact that I'm finally finished with this year's self-incrimination ritual (the climax of which is always the same--I get robbed), has surely played its part. The reasons abound, really, but whatever they are--real or perceived--the current state of affairs has me itching to jump back into the pool and start peeing.

So to speak.

The last 2.5 years have been a period of massive personal deconstruction and redefinition (think more Rising of the Phoenix, less Madonna), and while that process is (and should be) ongoing, it's time for the new to emerge and engage.

I've started on teh twitters. Follow me, all ye faithful.

I got on the YouTubez. My channel is here, if you're so inclined. I haven't really done too much with it yet, but it's where any future John Wayne Gacy and Naked British Guy episodes will appear, if they do, and I will continue to slowly but surely add clips I'm fond of or that I feel are relevant as time goes on.

I've also been dragged into the outer circles of the Facebook cult, although I rarely attend. For the most part, it's simply another way for the more active cultists to feel the reach of my mental tentacles (mentacles?) without having to leave their virtual enclave. I pop in every now and again, run around and say hello, and that's that; staying too long makes me feel like an indentured hamster and/or like I've just made the decision to begin dabbling in heroin. Just a little here and there, that's how it always starts.

Besides, I was obligated to jump on, really. How disappointed would you be to look for me there and find well, I dunno...not me. I know I'd be disappointed-perish the thought. Life has enough disappointments without having them heaped on unnecessarily. (Editor's Note: Warning--as evidenced by the last few sentences, newly emergent Human Head may unintentionally come across as a pompous ass.)

******

Life with a child continues to be a fundamentally surreal experience. As we approach Anna's 14th month on the planet, the Mrs. and I find ourselves continually challenged, amazed, and generally worn the fuck out. The current phase? Separation anxiety. And boy howdy, it's a sunuvabitch.

Despite everything, though, there's no joy in this world quite like it.

(My baby loves her some Outkast)

As an example, did I happen to mention yet that she's a carnivore of the first order? I made some pulled pork last week and she ate nearly as much as I did, and did so at an astonishing rate of speed. It was one of those Greatest Ever moments that come along every so often (Greatest Ever being defined by the fact that it was completely and utterly unexpected). It is exactly these kind of Greatest Ever moments that make the whole experience the joy that it is and carries one through the more torturous (and indeed, they can be torturous) aspects of corralling a LittleBigBeast.

******

The slow ramp-up method seems to be working so far. I'm setting modest goals, initially, in looking for one post per week. If it goes better, that's great, but regardless, it's time to get out. Spring is here.

"...I take my daily orders from Dr. Kissinger..."

2009-03-21T02:10:00.007-06:00

(fervent O followers may want to smoke some Hopium before reading...)

National Security Advisor James L. Jones, speaking at the 45th Munich Conference on Security Policy.

From the transcript on the Council on Foreign Relations site:

"Thank you for that wonderful tribute to Henry Kissinger yesterday. Congratulations. As the most recent National Security Advisor of the United States, I take my daily orders from Dr. Kissinger, filtered down through Generaal Brent Scowcroft and Sandy Berger, who is also here. We have a chain of command in the National Security Council that exists today."

Once again, that's James L. Jones, Obama's National Security 'Advisor', formerly on the Board of Directors at Chevron and Boeing, Trustee for the Center for Strategic and International Studies (lookee, ZBig chairs the Advisory panel!), member and part of the Guiding Coalition in the Project on National Security Reform (other GC members t0 include Gingrich, Blair, Blackwell, and Scowcroft, among others), and former member of The Atlantic Council of the United States (Directors, honorary and otherwise, to include Kissinger, Scowcroft, Tenet, Schultz, Woolsey, and James A. Baker III) with which he is still affiliated.

"...I take my orders from..."

Dr. Henry Kissinger (recent special envoy to Russia, in case you forgot), the man who has to take legal advice before traveling due to his being wanted in so many different countries for war crimes. Rather than go into the massive pile of facts about this miserable excuse for a human being (all interested parties need to do is look), how about a couple of greatest hit quotes?

"Military men are just dumb stupid animals to be used as pawns in foreign policy." - Henry Kissinger, quoted in "Kiss the Boys Goodbye: How the United States Betrayed Its Own POW's in Vietnam"

"The illegal we do immediately. The unconstitutional takes a little longer"--New York Times, Oct. 28, 1973

If these remarks become too widespread, what is the over/under that Jones will say "I was joking!"

Human Head Media Presents: John Wayne Gacy and Naked British Guy, Episode II: The Colloquy

2009-01-06T09:05:00.007-07:00

The ridiculousness continues.

Naked British Guy joins John Wayne Gacy in the basement for games. See the burgeoning friendship that bears witness to our truly apocalyptic times in this taut and gritty roller-coaster ride of human emotion.

(1/7/09--Swapped for YouTube embed and tags. Sorry for the annoying re-publish)

Human Head Media Presents: John Wayne Gacy and Naked British Guy--A Postgame Conversation

2009-01-05T17:07:00.008-07:00

I'd call it not safe for work, but I don't know where you work. Who am I to make that call?

Thanks BG for pointing xtranormal. Good times.

(1/7/09--Swapped for a Youtube embed and added tags. Sorry for the Annoying re-publish.)

2009: Here we go...

2008-12-29T04:04:00.018-07:00

The warm and fuzzy. 2008 Summary in Pictures.

We started here:

Hit the midway point around here:

And ended here:

I've been barfed on, pissed on, and shat on more times than I can count*. On the other side of that, I've also been (more times than I can count) hugged, looked at, and smiled at in a ways that I wouldn't have imagined were possible, that are unique for me and not duplicated for anyone else in the world. For that one person, I am completely and utterly The Balls. Guess which of those things I care less about.

*is that sentence going to get me a bunch of unwanted fetish hits, you know, on a post with pictures of my babygirl? I don't think so since Google doesn't index me anymore because of my having been a bad advertising boy. This makes you a very exclusive intheknow audience. Haha Google, foiled you again.

Gone before you know it. I've been working on something for the last 3 days that I desperately wanted to publish, but it's grown into something that's going to require a great deal more consideration and work. It will be ready when it's ready, I guess.

I despise resolutions (or rather, what they've become), so here is a wish for you, one that I carry for myself:

To find greater Happiness, Health, and Wisdom in the coming year, to understand more clearly what these things are, and to not let them be defined for you.

Best to all.

Vegas Holiday Classic: The Return to Degeneracy and The Rekindling of Long Forgotten Inter-Generational Conflict

2008-12-23T02:06:00.011-07:00

Now that Vegas has been slept off and normal life returns with all of its "normality" (such as it is), snippets of the latest adventure beg to be mentioned. Those folks searching for a properly entertaining trip report that haven't seen one yet should click themselves post-haste over and read Derek--the man just held another Trip Report Clinic, per usual. If I had the means I would, at a minimum, make sure he traveled to Vegas on a quarterly basis just so the world could be exposed to more of his gold standard and bar setting recaps. Get over and check Pauly's various entries, too, crafting special reports as only he can (and seriously, if you ended up here before The Tao then your priorities are seriously out of whack--fix that).

And now, with the preambles out of the way....

*Everyone I spoke with over three days was variously skull-fucked and/or ass-raped by BlackJack. It amazes me even after all of these years that people still play that game. (This coming from the guy known to find his way onto a Let It Ride table and Wheel of Fortune slot at least once per trip, but in my defense, at least the degrading orifice invasion is gentler. A good rule of thumb is, if you're gonna get fucked, at least avoid getting slam-fucked.) Blackjack=Bad news. Run fast, run far.

*I used to enjoy The Venetian, until this trip, when I came face to face with the $9 bottle of beer. I don't care if I had a fucking billion dollars, I would still get worked up over a bottle of beer being Nine.Fucking.Dollars. That's 900% markup at liquor store prices, and you know a place like The Venetian definitely isn't paying that rate. Truly odious and offensive.

*Regardless of the lack of coherent explanation as to just why it is so, the Geisha Bar at the IP is still the heezee. There is no better place on this planet to pull up a chair and watch Dealertainers bring The Circus of Desperation to a fever pitch. The Mariah Carey that wasn't really Mariah at all. Bily Idol looking way too young and entirely too sober. There was, however, Freddy Mercury, and while his flame burned quite a bit brighter than the real Freddy's ever did, that first performance during peak brainfry transported me to some other place, like having my mind shot from a rainbow cannon. All I could do after it was over was turn to Pauly and ask, "Did that just happen?" The answer eluded him as well. Strange times for the ill-equipped.

*The MGM does indeed have great beds. It's too bad I only spent about 7 hours in mine.

*I was overjoyed to be able to attend the Gracie and Sweet Sweet Pablo nuptuals, which were just as they should have been. In the words of Mrs.Head when the anouncement was made, "It's about time."

*More of the Geisha Strange included me somehow getting involved in a nearly 3-hour conversation with some random old guy at the bar named Mike, who was very angry at the world. I dropped some knowledge on him, he kept asking questions, and so I dropped some more--any opportunity to evangelize the Surreality of Things should be taken. I left a happier person in my wake and was able to reset after being shot from the Queen cannon. Everybody wins.

*I was there for the bustout hand between Michalski and Professional Keno Player Neil Fontanot, and I'm here to confirm that what you've heard is true. Dan played like a pussy and Neil had to bust him (the turn card betting action brought a waft of tuna-meltishness that demanded a call). But you already knew that.

What you may not know is that we may see the re-emergence of a dynastic war that up to this point had been thought by many to be long forgotten. Over the course of two evenings with PKPNF, while cruising the cosmic gelcaps and discussing the intricacies of the various degrees and general longevity of universal vibrations and how they relate to the world of the Keno Profits and Working Girls, I was also given a glimpse at a troublesome family history with its roots in the last name Fontenot. The lost spelling of the name is actually Fonteneaux, from a long line of numerological seers originating in The South, of all places.

It's here that students of history will know what I'm talking about. For hundreds of years, in the land now known as New Orleans, a pitched war of attrition went on for decades between the peace-loving Fonteneaux gypsy-seers and the warlike angle-shooting Polish clan (exiled some time before from their own homeland for various acts of highly suspect nature), the Michalski's. Public sentiment at the time was turning towards Keno (and it's derivatives) and away from the devious three-card monte racket the 'ski's were running. Neil's 6x's great-grandfather was accused of "charlatanism" by a co-opted magistrate and was condemned to prison by a corrupt local jury that had been mortally threatened by the Michalski's who, while this sham of a criminal prosecution was ongoing, were simultaneously rigging the local Keno games to discredit the Universal Vibration theories being advanced by the Fonteneaux tradition. He died in that prison, and for many many years it was assumed that the Fonteneaux clan had all but disappeared. However, to the surprise of many it seems they've simply been underground. As the current age continues its slow death in preparation for advancing into the new one, Neil, carrying on the family tradition determined that the opportunity presented by this burgeoning awakening of consciousness demanded that he step once again to the forefront and advance the Universal Vibration Method. But it seems that fate is not kind. Neil found himself met at the table, after so many years of obscurity and relative peace, by another Michalski, .

After spending a decade at Chino (on more trumped up charges for inadvertently bankrupting a local Keno parlour in LA for picks that were, quote, "too perfect"), there's one thing that PKPNF has learned that his forefathers never did. There comes a time where there can be no more running. You have to stand up and not be a punk.

Neil smelled Pussy on the turn bet, and for all of the persecuted ones in his clan who came before, he beat that thing inside-out.

But animosities continue to simmer, and few know what the future might hold, least of all me. I'm currently trying to arrange a sitdown/phone call with Michalski to get confirmation as to whether or not the rumor is true that he made it known to a few people (the Freddy Mercury Dealertainer being one of these, who would neither confirm nor deny) that he was going to shank PKPNF right in the neck for that public humilliation.

Oddly enough, though, when I relayed these wind-borne tidings to PKPNF, he simply wondered aloud how many times Michalski wanted to stab him, as that might be one of the missing numbers from the Final Keno Play prophesied and handed down through Fonteneaux oral tradition.

I'll keep everyone posted as I can as the situation develops.

*I got my bad-beat dollar from Sweet Sweet (but Shifty) Pablo. Seriously, do not try to stiff me monies. I will ride your ass like the paper delivery boy in Better Off Dead, but unlike him, I've got the juice running and a gang of hard pipe-hittin' niggahs ready to go to work.

*Truly, it was truly fantastic seeing everyone after a two-year absence, and great being able to meet a few that I hadn't previously.

(And in case I don't get back here before the New Year, Happly Non-Denominational ChrismaSolstiHanaKwanzooFestikah to you all.)

I can voetz now?

2008-11-03T05:38:00.001-07:00

"So corrupted indeed and debased was that age by sycophancy that not
only the foremost citizens who were forced to save their grandeur by
servility, but every exconsul, most of the ex-praetors and a host of
inferior senators would rise in eager rivalry to propose shameful and
preposterous motions. Tradition says that Tiberius as often as he left
the Senate-House used to exclaim in Greek, "How ready these men are to
be slaves."

--from The Annals by Publius Cornelius Tacitus, Book III

As someone who is of the NO VOTE mind (and truly, there are precious few of us), I thought it might be beneficial to expound a bit on the subject. While I don’t realistically expect to change anyone’s mind so close to such an “historic” election (aren’t they all?), I do hope that it will get a few thinking in a different direction and perhaps provide some food for thought going forward as the Next Chosen Savior/Leader inevitably fails to magically deliver the goods on a myriad of ambiguous and unrealistic promises. The following should not be mistaken for a directed attack against anyone, as it is intended to be a short discussion of personal principles regarding the general notion.

So ends the qualifier portion of this entry.

Over the last few weeks there has been the predictable building of fevered crescendo toward The National Elections, and with it various incarnations of the You Must Vote drumbeat, replete with massive “Look at the increased turnout!” and Rock the Vote or Die media and campaign festivities of the day/week/month. After all, it is said, this is our responsibility as democratic citizens, our Sacred Right. Those who do not use this tool (which is imbued with all of the magical properties of Thor’s hammer, to hear some tell it) consequently have no right to speak and will not be heard. They will be treated with general derision as ne’er do wells who don’t want to be “part of the solution” and don’t want to “effect change” by joining their democratic brothers and sisters in the booth. Incoherent, Impractical, Not Pragmatic, Unserious, and many other terms are passed from the talking heads down to the great unwashed who dutifully parrot the same. Everyone keeps everyone else in line and all are reminded to keep their eyes on the ball, as it were. A great many claim to shudder at the very thought of the NO VOTE, and are resigned to doing their Sacred Duty for better or for worse. Indeed, the forms may be many, but the overall message is the same: Your vote is the most precious and valuable thing you have and you MUST use it.

The thing left unsaid (but relentlessly implied) in this message is that while you must use it, it’s only value lies in using it within the given confines of the presented “choices”, and further, within the confines of the system in which those choices reside.

In the area of the two “choices” presented, well, that’s not really a choice, is it? Both marquee candidates will continue the War Machine, both think the idea of domestic spying and retroactive immunization of the corporations that aided in the same is just dandy, and lest we forget, both were/are in full favor of robbing you and several more generations of large gobs of money to bailout the International Banks (oops, I mean, Stabilize the Economy), in spite of the loud and unequivocal “No” issued forth from the majority of citizens in this “democracy”. Of course this is only the very abridged, very short summary version to point out for the nth time that the only Change We Can Count On will be the exact opposite of what many people have fooled themselves into believing.

And the cry goes to the heavens, “But there are still third party candidates to support! You shirk the Sacred Duty!”

This was certainly considered until thinking about it within the larger context of the system in which these choices reside.

Apart from the ridiculously poor choices presented to us as the Serious Candidates, there is this additional issue of the voting system itself having become compromised outright by “faulty” optical scanning equipment, electronic voting systems which are ridiculously easy to hack (physically and remotely) as well as mass voter disenfranchising (which, imo, is simply a divide and conquer distraction to take away from a more widespread and in-depth discussion and understanding of the aforementioned electronic fraud machines).* It didn’t take long for UltimateBet’s thoroughly compromised system to come to mind. Regardless of how many soothing PR releases are issued with thumbs-up, stating “We’ve got it fixed now! You’re safe, the game is fair, we swear it!” I don’t think it’s too far afield to say that any person choosing to play there in spite of this knowledge is a willing sucker who leaves their self wide open for more of the same.

Know what I’m sayin’?

The system has been and is demonstrably co-opted and corrupted. Taking part in a system giving such a blatantly false choice is certainly no way to foster real Hope, to say nothing of effecting positive or worthwhile Change. This system that rules us is utterly vile, corrupt, and murderous as it heaps insult onto injury by paying nothing but lip service to anything good, right, or true. It makes a mockery of all things thoughtful and having conscience. I refuse to take part in such a system, to the extent that I possibly can, any longer.

I’m tired of being told I am rich by same people who empty my pockets. I’m tired of being told how free I am while more bureaucracy and technology are levered in a concerted effort to dictate my every thought and move. I’m tired of my seeing fellow human beings debased in every way. I’m of the slogans and badges and bullshit in general and I’m tired of hearing people who ought to know better tirelessly following the same.

Not voting is voting. It's a vote of No Confidence. It is the realization that the only positive and real Changes I can effect are those that I make manifest in my individual thought and deed. I believe that when those individuals who instinctively understand that something is very, very wrong and desire to take back their individuality, intelligence, and conscience truly realize this and begin reclaiming these things for themselves, then we may indeed see the beginnings of Change for the Better that is, for once in our short lives, something more than a mirage.

In the Articificial Age, Hope that is given by others can only be suspect. Hope found in ones self is one of the last real things remaining.

(cross-posted at Verbosities)

Beavis and Butthead do the Economy

2008-09-21T08:09:00.003-06:00

Here are financial derivatives, boiled down to their essence.

You may know them as illiquid, impaired, or troubled assets. Of course it isn't perfectly accurate, because if you get stuck with nothing but a candy bar, at least you can still eat something sweet and enjoy a few moments before starving.

Boats and Penis Jokes: A Discussion of Unfortunate Names

2008-08-20T02:02:00.006-06:00

I just remembered something about some recent neighbors that made me cringe. Male, 32-ish, 3 kids. Decided, "Hey I think I need to buy a 25-foot boat to tow behind my Hummer." Toss aside any ruminating on the "Whydidyoujustbuythatgarishboatwhenyou'veneverlivedawayfromyourparentsevenwhileyou'remarried" question, as well as the "JesusHHowmuchisyourgasbudget" musings, because it's not my issue or business even though it's fun to pretend it is. Completely justified, however, is a comment on the name of the vessel: The Master Baiter.

There is such a thing as Hilarious and Good Juvenile humor, like loudly asking "What?" anytime someone uses the word "deaf" and seeing how many times the recipient of this treatment actually repeats themselves.*

*In the interest of full disclosure, I've repeated myself on both occasions that Mrs. Head has subjected me to this hilarity. I don't know anyone that has occasion to speak of the deaf or otherwise hearing impaired with the regularity sufficient to rend this humor tiresome (it's only happened twice so far in seven years), thus the opportunity to engage in such is a rarity and slays me every time.

There is also Godawfully Poor and Tiresome Juvenile Humor, as demonstrated in the unfortunate naming practices of the aforementioned neighbor. The Master Baiter is something that can only be funny during that special period in every teenage boy's life when reference to the penis by any means necessary begins in earnest, minus any wit or real humor. In a perfect world this phase is short-lived and phallic reference, while never completely leaving humor's arsenal, should become more refined and/or used sparingly. It also seems lazy. In all the years between 11 and 32, the boundaries of funny couldn't be pushed outward? Even a little bit?**

**It just doesn't seem right to do a post like this without mentioning Bob. The man has been a pioneer in the art of keeping junk humor alive and elevated for years despite persecutions inflicted by various small-minded, and I suspect very small-junked, people.

If it were up to me (I love this game), and if (for whatever reason) I was taken with the idea of a juvenile name, then The Master Baiter would never do (for all of the above mentioned reasons as well others). We must use juvenile and crude humor to make fun of juvenile humor, thus elevating it. At least, that's how the theory goes in my mind.

Therefore, the boat should be named My Cock.

The Dick Joke or Let's Talk About My Genitals or This Is My Awesome Boat If By Boat You Mean My Penis were also considered, but I know nothing about boat-naming conventions and the limitations (if any) imposed, so I went with what was the shortest and most likely to confound and outrage the general public.

Hilarious.

The tiny update that you can't help but read.

2008-08-17T04:17:00.006-06:00

Blogging from work, so this might be choppy.

I broke down in the face of The Man. Some further research into my issue served to reinforce the knowledge that right and wrong, logic, and/or good sense have nothing to do with anything where the law is concerned, and that I should therefore just pay The Man his extortion money. No, I have not gotten sand in my vagina. It means simply that I would like to avoid the hassle and inevitable expense caused by a spontaneous ‘uncivilized’ reaction to inevitable injustice. There will doubtless be plenty of future opportunities requiring tangible resistance, but for now, preparations for a much rougher near future must take priority.

“But we’ve reached the bottom! The dollar is recovering! Now’s a great time to buy!”

Of course it is. Just like Russia was the aggressor in the latest Caucasian Conflict. Look, your show is about to start! Better hurry, you don’t want to miss getting downloaded with next Talking Point PR meme.

******

I finished up Anthony Sutton’s previously mentioned three-volume study of Wall Street and Socialism, all of which were excellent. However, the standout among them was Wall Street and FDR, for the simple reason that for the last year and a half a great deal of the talk from the big “Progressives” is how we need another New Deal bestowed upon us by Mr. Hope and Change + Mo Better Democrats.*

Pick up any or all of these books, you will not be disappointed.

*and just to be clear, this sarcastic sentiment should in no way be taken as any sort of endorsement or favorable sentiment for the intellectually and morally twisted shills on the other ‘Conservative” side of the artificial political construct.

******

More stories and pics of the Wunderkind are on the way. I’m thinking of shelling out for one of these and any input or alternate suggestions on this front are more than welcome. I simply want something that I can use and deal with quickly and easily as I’m not looking to get “into” video right now. I’ve always been pretty happy with Creative’s other products, so that one is at the top of the list for now, pending further research and input.

I’ve also got some work stories that need to be told. If I don’t get to it within the next few days, remind me to tell you about P-Tard. After three weeks I’m still blown away by the combination of OCD and Inability.

Work calls. I shall return. In the meantime, anyone that cares to can follow my shared items and comments here.

Autopilot job and a misdemeanor case

2008-08-06T02:55:00.009-06:00

First things first. Congrats to Pauly for five years of consistently great fodder at The Tao. I desperately wanted to make the tourney on Stars tonight, but there's no way in hell I'd be able to get to the Borgata for a variety of reasons, the most recent being that I'll be due in court, which got me to thinking that it would be just my luck to win the thing and see that wonderful tourney entry go to waste.

Thanks, Officer Hammer.*

*Not a fictional name. Vic Hammer**. Cliche much?

**For many thousands of years up to the present, this ancient clan is said to have fought and struggled to keep an overwhelming tide of grievous misdemeanors from overtaking the human race.

Good god, it's 3 a.m., I can't get into this right now. I imaging that on or about Sept. 3rd, one way or the other, I'll have a story to tell. We'll revisit the back story then. Nonetheless, there's my excuse for being longer than anticipated.

You don't like that one? I have others.

********

It started around the July 4th Holiday.* I received a job offer, which, given current conditions, I think must mean that I'm very awesome or very lucky. Either one works for me, but I'm reasonably sure it's a lot more of the latter than the former. That's not simple self-deprecation, either-I mean it. While seeking work I was, of course, doing a lot of sighing and moaning and complaining and whatnot. Understandable, to be sure. Who in their right mind wants to work?

*it's amazing how many people (at least 2/3 in my holiday experience this year) want to know 'what plans do we have for the 4th'. If the answer 'I have no plans' didn't send them into catatonic depths, finding out that I also wasn't going to shoot fireworks surely did the trick. You've never seen people go glassy-eyed faster, save perhaps the times when I tell them 'I don't watch television'.

I related to Mrs. Head at the time that what I wanted very much was a job where I didn't have to really think about the job while I was on the job. Something autopilot-ish. The problem of course is that a great many of those jobs have the annoying tendency of being $10/hr or less. It's like living with the knowledge that you're going to have to endure repeated junk-kicking, because refusal means you just get castrated. Or something like that.

I'll try and shorten this up a bit. The new job is autopilot-erific and is enough for Mrs. Head to stay home and wrangle the wunderkind who, also thanks to the new job, will continue to eat. (How do you like this schiziod writing technique so far? Start out long-winded. Switch suddenly to extreme brevity. Confuse and annoy everyone.)

They wanted me to start immediately, but graciously gave me a bit of time to move. And "bit" of time is no joke. This one tested our nomadic limits as we had to find a place (100 miles away), pack up, and move in 10 days, which is pretty much like like starting to work a week before you have to start working, but with money paid by you instead of having money paid to you. Plus, we're back in the city, which means I'll get to see things like stars which should be about as often as I can expect to be able to enjoy some real silence.

Wunderbar.

Overdramatic complaining and Officer Hammer aside, the waves seem to be slowly settling once again as another large adjustment among many takes hold. What? No WonderSpawn news or stories? Of course there are, just not right now. I will say this, though. I think she's on steriods. It's frightening. Enough so that I'm seriously considering a piece tentatively titled Infants and Performance Enhancing Drugs: Physical and Psychlogical Effects on the Family Unit.

Should be great. Thanks again for still reading and stay tuned.

Thoughts on Moving and Planning for Douchebag Eventualities--A Discussion

2008-07-07T20:43:00.013-06:00

For god's sake, man, get over and see Pauly if you haven't. Going Vietnam and running fuckin batshit with it, providing more proof for the pile that indeed, Everybody Must Get Stoned. Sehr gut.

And Google deleted me along with more than a few others, which is funny since this is a poker blog kind of like Tony Blair has profound and deeply felt Catholic beliefs. Nice. I care less than I thought I might. May have to get some new digs, Bobby style. Fuck'em.

***************

Well, it's pretty well a locked-in fact that we're headed back to the fucking* city. Just spent nearly five days there, found a nice place (which is a story of luck and fortuitous events that doesn't really need to be told right now), and will be spending the last few days trying to simultaneously do the further necessaries (did that sound kind of dirty? I think maybe it does...) and trying to experience every last precious drop of deep and total silence with appropriate gratefulness and appreciation, cuz that shit is going away, and that is a very sad thing indeed.

*that's not a frat boy "fuck yeah expression. Give it more of a Lewis Black framing.

So one more post before I go away from this place for another two weeks as a person too busy to deal with this Google bullshit. New digs is sounding better and better. Or perhaps I can rally the Internets to me and crash the Mighty Google Gates, wielding the power of The Collective like a hammer. I'm probably gonna be too busy for that shit too. A pox on this System.

The Wunderkid won't quit fussing and doesn't want to sleep. She feels the same as I do, I suspect. She knows what's coming and doesn't want to wake up in that place. The subject came up while I typed and she chewed on a cold washcloth (the Alcoholic Pygmy enjoys it. What can I say, they're a strange tribe.). Her left leg hammered up and down, as it had been for several days, as we continued our onging conversation having to do with The Inherently Smug Nature of Stuffed Bears and Why We Are Compelled To Abuse Them. When her heel came down on the edge of the Magic Fingers Chair particularly hard, I was forced to interrupt the current incarnation of her Bear thesis and ask, "Doesn't that hurt?"

"No. Should it?"

"Well", I said, "just the other day you headbutted my collarbone which would have made you cry but not for my masterful distraction skills**."

** (Note to self: Investigate whether these skills might successfully transfer over to the field of Pickpocketing with a sideline symposium analyzing the possibility that such a thing might not be the best idea in any case.)

"True dat." The heel kept banging away as she went Thrice Rocky Balboa all over a few Dangling Bears With Particularly Smug Looks.

"..and more importantly, why?" I asked.

"Douchebags. Training to kick douchebags."

"How you gonna get close enough to kick a Douchebag?"

"You're going to help me", she said. She wasn't joking.

"Why would I do that?"

"Well, if you kick them, you're in big trouble, right?"

"Yup."

"I'm a baby. What are they gonna do, call the cops? Shit no. They won't even be mad. I'll throw a couple smiles, act like I'm seized by the Holy Spirit and speak in tongues...hell, I may even throw up for an ender. It will all be written off as accident and/or cute."

"You're a fuckin' wicked shot, Rents."

"Indeed. Speaking of, we should totally watch that movie again while we still can."

"Seriously though, kiddo. We should probably refrain from that and try and find joy in the fact that we escaped such subterranean levels of douchebaggery. The quality of life for Douches can't be real good as a rule. Seems like it would be an existence ruled primarily by panicky indecision with steep psychological hills and valleys. Remember, these people can't even do simple things like Maintain The Speed Limit and Think About Their Destination. Instead they wonder about the various complex strategies of going all Kobayashi on the Chuck-o-Rama buffet with sufficient destructive force."

"Settle down, Dad."

"I'm just sayin'. We should take our solace and joy from that."

"I feel you, Dad. Shit ain't easy, but I'd say that's true enough."

"If you understand then why you still banging your heel like that? You're gong to have one leg totally ripped and the other is still gonna have your Michelin Man rolls. I can see it happening already."

"Just in case. Seriously, you never know when a sharpened heel, a strong leg, and a well-developed hammer kick just might come in handy."

"Sadly, you're probably right. Just don't tell your mother. She worries."

While she holds up her fist in a sign of solidarity and falls asleep I hear "You're a fuckin' evil shot, Rents."

Behold the Weaponized Heel

Good to see you again. I see you've met my child.

2008-06-22T19:43:00.003-06:00

This afternoon I caught Bunzamillian at her telepathy shenanigans. You think having a Telepathic Blogging Wunderkid is unusual? Imagine my surprise.

I thought something might be up when she started doing this:

The situation has been dealt with, harshly, I might add. I spanked her into next Tuesday*.

*(For the record, that may not have been exactly the way it went. It was more of an "I'm very disappointed in you" moment, and we had a good talk about things. And even if I had spanked her into next Tuesday, is that really so bad? I mean, that's only two days away....)

She promised me that she doesn't usually talk like that, and that she was "in a mood" at the time, and suggested that we hash out some sort of understanding, the details of which are as follows:

1) I, Human Head, her father, henceforth have full administrative control of the blog. (she fucked up by not granting her Bunzamillian ID administrative rights after she broke me off something real proper-like. I gained first-mover advantage by shutting down her privileges before she realized what was happening and squashed that shit.)

2) No more hijacking my motor skills without obtaining prior consent. If she feels there is something she would like to get across to the world, she can convey it through me in an environment of words and mutual respect.

3) She has to teach me how to do that.

After three points the both of us were tired of talking about it and decided to let the issue rest. If you see "posted by Human Head" then you may, dear reader, be assured it will really be me from this point forward (which I will admit may, or may not, be an appealing prospect).

And it's true, she's an alcoholic, despite what she may tell you. We're still working on the concept of denial.

I am The Master now

2008-06-22T19:35:00.007-06:00

Sorry 'bout that last post, folks. I tried to blog but quickly discovered that my hands don't work so well.

So sue me. I'm four months old, I'm working on it, dammit. I didn't ask to be stuck in this damnably difficult body--I'm beginning to believe my parents have something to do with that (as well as a host of other things), which brings us to the reason I just broke this fool off his blog. I gotta say what I think needs sayin'. I gotta be free, man.

Seriously, these motherfuckers are killin' me already. You heard what they call me, right? No? Bunzamillian. Christ, it's the dumbest name I've ever heard ("ever", in this case, being four months).

That said, for the forseeable future I will be blogging through the medium of my father, who babbles to and fro about the Interwebs using the patently ridiculous Human Head moniker. I'm forced to use him, as he is the only person over whom I hold such power. But the good thing is that he has no idea what I'm forcing him to do, and thus I can talk about whatever I like. When I'm done writing, he thinks we've been talking for an hour or that he just had a nap. Actually, I have no idea what the guy thinks*, but as long as he's not asking questions I'm just gonna go with it.

*(he thinks I'm an alcoholic, ferchrissakes (I've only had three beers so far today). Everyone knows that babies only like to smoke weed. This barely functioning apparatus they call a body is what's fuckin' me up, making me stumble and babble and shit. Don't get me wrong, I mean, I like the guy and all, but sometimes he just does stupid shit. I'm stuck with this until I find out what my real name is, cuz Bunzamillian can't be it.)

So, in summary, if you see a "posted by Human Head", it means that going forward there is a likely chance that it's me making using my father as a proxy until I can get my Bunzamillian ID squared away.

If you don't believe that this is really a four month-old blogging, well, all I can say is that there's a first time for everything, and did you not notice that part above where I said I acquired telepathic control of my father in order to do this thing?

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2008-06-22T19:34:00.000-06:00

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Good Days

2008-06-08T14:53:00.006-06:00

Yesterday was my birthday. It was much better (as in, holy shit, that was a great day) than my 30th, which I reacted to in an unexpectedly negative way. I've been thinking about why that is.

Perhaps is was the new Lansky Kit. God knows I've been wanting (I would say needing) one of these. I'm not nearly good enough with my old school stone, and I could see that I wasn't doing my good knives any favors, so I stopped sharpening them until I could get one of these. That was around 8 months ago, so it should go without saying that meal preparation had become steadily more annoying. I was at the point where I was desperately avoiding confrontations between my Henckel and a tomato.*

*dull knife problem solved, I am still avoiding the tomato fruit with regularity as they cost somewhere in the vicinity of $1000/lb and taste like nothing. Or wood. Christ, I miss good tomatoes.)

Perhaps it was receiving Anthony Sutton's 3-book study on Wall Street and Socialism--Wall Street & The Bolshevik Revolution, Wall Street and FDR, Wall Street and the Rise of Hitler. Fantastic. I put down Jung's The Undiscovered Self and am already diving in.

Few things make one feel better than to have sharp knives, a freezer full of meat, and a stack of wonderful books awaiting a set of eyes. Indeed, it is true, but these things weren't the reason why.

***********

Anna is ridiculous, in a good way, of course. That is, aside from the rapidly degenerating alcoholism and recent forays into the dark netherworld of hard drugs and incoherent conversation. I won't even try and count the number of times that I've almost written about the latest wunderkid superfeat taking place over the last couple of months. Every time I'm near to the point of putting fingers to keyboard she does something wunderkid EXTRAsuperhuman for me to gaze upon and praise at great length. There was also the apprehension caused by trying to avoid being a super ghey daddy blog. But hey, it is what it is. Say it loud.

A quick story or two.....

As stated previously, despite our own efforts, Anna's alcoholism remains and seems to be progressing downhill in a steep fashion. I fear that she has been bingeing wildly sometime between the hours of 3AM and 7AM due in no small part to the fact that here have been many mornings where she wakes us with a gargoyle. Now I know what many of you are thinking, "but that's what babies do". Perhaps, but taking time to fully consider the impact and effect of The Gargoyle, one also realizes that this is also the behavior of an raging and grossly irresponsible drunkard (no offense to quasi-celebrity/fascist, Jason Mulgrew, who is consistently blazing new inebriated trails for all to marvel at and follow).

When this is all over, I am really going to be interested in how she managed to hide so many bottles of Scotch. I haven't been able to find a single one yet. Sneaky alcoholic babies....

Then we come to the issue of hard drugs, as if the drinking wasn't problem enough. Over the last week or so, Anna likes to be in the bathroom. However, "likes" is really nowhere near a strong enough term in this case.

"Ifyoutrytoremovemefromherei'mgoingtoletyouknowandloudly" is infinitely more accurate.

Favorite activity while in the bathroom: Babbling at the baby in the mirror while playing with her face, and since we're counting, puking in the sink and laughing about it.

I got to thinking about the fact that children function primarily in a Gamma brain state until around age 5. Think waking dream, but all the time. That's when it hit me.

My daughter has graduated to acid.

Think about it--when tripping, where do you trip the hardest? That's right, the bathroom. It is always the indicator of where you are in relation to peak status. What do so many relate doing in the bathroom whilst on acid? That's right, babble to yourself in the mirror while watching your face melt (and if it's an 'and/or' situation with shrooms, puking).

See it now?

I now also know where she got it. I suspected from the beginning is was that turtle-lookin motherfucker with the cock growing out if its head. I was going to go after him straightaway, but exercised multiple-times-over admirable restraint and decided to corner the stuffed unicorn. Ratchet up the pressure and the unicorn gives it up every time (and lest you think me an overly mean person, you really don't have to apply very much pressure at all, as everyone knows that it's impossible for a unicorn to lie).

The terminally happy monkey that lives on the shelf told me that it was because Anna was trying to recapture that Gamma state long gone. Her brain having developed past that stage weeks ago, she feels like her childhood has been cut short. I must try and relate to her that these are burdens which unfortunately must be carried when you're the Smartest Child Ever.

But she's an addict, and will probably run (trip, more likely) right back to the acid because it's fun, and all she has to do is give me The Look which keeps me from changing the locks yet again even though I know I should.

It's the look that has no idea how old I am, and doesn't care because it doesn't matter. And it doesn't. This was the reason it was a good day, like all of the other days that The Look appears. It sends the idea of birthdays, ages, and the What Widely Accepted Milestone Should I Be At At This Point neurosis far into the background, which is really the best place for them.

2008 WSOP. Now with more bloggers!

2008-05-30T18:12:00.004-06:00

Pauly will be posting at The Tao and at Las Vegas Vegas.

Change100, Geno and F-Train will be workin' it for PokerNews .

Spaceman will stay on earth for the duration for Poker Listings.

Falstaf will be holding forth from Norf Currlina.

Otis will be Poker Stars blogging at the end of the month, but sadly not covering the whole shebang. Pussy. (kidding, of course)

I'm looking very forward to all of the coverage, but I'm personally looking most forward to Pauly Unchained and Holding Forth as only he can.

Good Lord, I've even been playing a bit of poker lately, which I may talk about more in the near future. I will however say that I've been thoroughly enjoying the Stud tables at Full Tilt during their various Happy Hours.

Last but not least, if you've got time to kill, enjoy Cornell Fiji ripping apart the UB press release on 2+2.

Hellmuth as the face of UB was always enough to keep me away from the site, but if that in combination with the superuser business doesn't keep you away from that stinkhole then, as Iggy might phrase it, you are deeply and profoundly retarded.

I miss Party Poker.

I'm not dead, and neither is this space, in case anyone was wondering. I'm in one of those spots where several possibilities and maybes (remote and otherwise) are swirling around in my quest
for survival within a system I have little desire to be a part of. More detail soon, I hope, plus some catch up surrounding the really really ridiculously good-looking and smart miniature alcoholic squatting in our home.

Thurday Evening Thoughts: Various Items, Drunk Edition

2008-04-17T18:09:00.009-06:00

Good God, not a single post since April 3rd. I’ve been hit by a wave of depressive apathy that seems to know few bounds. What the fuck, indeed. It could have something to do with the process of looking for a job (good thing the economy is robust) or it could be some new ingredient that’s been added to the chemtrails. Either way, any getting back on the ‘I’m gonna post regular-like’ wagon have seen me fall straight off, yet again. Betwixt thee and me, I think that wagon is coated in some kind of grease, as it seems near to impossible to stay on it. Thems’r the breaks, I guess.

So I’m gonna hit the three Fat Tires I have left in the fridge, and then I’m gunna finish what’s left in my Glenlivet bottle (about 1/5, of the bottle, not a whole fifth-my tolerance is way too vaginafied for such things) and see where a Various Items post takes me.

We’re currently on Fat Tire #2. Let’s get back on that wagon, greased though it may be.

***********

Speaking of looking for work, what an awful, awful process that is. I’m currently taking recommendations for prescriptions that will help me through any and all interviews. Specifically, I’m looking for something that will help me utter (with a straight face and the proper earnest inflection) the correct buzzwords necessary. Things like results-oriented, project goals, and action item.

Because just the thought of using those and other similarly vomitous terms in a manner that’s anything other than sarcastic fills me with the urge to take a dump and throw it at someone. Of course, that’s assuming any interviews are in the offing.

But the Lord has a plan, or so I’m told. Maybe he wants me to start a welfare blog. I can craft fine posts about government cheese seizing my bowels and gambling with food stamps*.

*Impossible, being that these things seem to be on ATM-ish cards these days. But it does get me thinking about the good old days, which sadly aren’t really all that old, when I had my first apartment and was barely scraping by. I knew a few crack and speed heads that would sell me their $50 stamps for $20—eatin’ good on the cheap, baby. Beats that morning I woke up with three days till payday and only a can of refried beans and ketchup to eat, that’s for damn sure.

**********

And then there’s Obama. Or, if one is into using vomitous terms (as I clearly am) The Change Agent. For anyone who didn't catch it, here’s his answer when asked about justice for crimes committed by the current administration--

What I would want to do is to have my Justice Department and my Attorney General immediately review the information that's already there and to find out are there inquiries that need to be pursued. I can't prejudge that because we don't have access to all the material right now. I think that you are right, if crimes have been committed, they should be investigated. You're also right that I would not want my first term consumed by what was perceived on the part of Republicans as a partisan witch hunt because I think we've got too many problems we've got to solve.

So this is an area where I would want to exercise judgment -- I would want to find out directly from my Attorney General -- having pursued, having looked at what's out there right now -- are there possibilities of genuine crimes as opposed to really bad policies. And I think it's important-- one of the things we've got to figure out in our political culture generally is distinguishing betyween really dumb policies and policies that rise to the level of criminal activity. You know, I often get questions about impeachment at town hall meetings and I've said that is not something I think would be fruitful to pursue because I think that impeachment is something that should be reserved for exceptional circumstances. Now, if I found out that there were high officials who knowingly, consciously broke existing laws, engaged in coverups of those crimes with knowledge forefront, then I think a basic principle of our Constitution is nobody above the law -- and I think that's roughly how I would look at it.

He can surely give a good speech, but the only change The Great Obama will bring to office (should he get there) is skin color and bombing locale. Boycott the vote.*

*and I swear to Christ if I hear any propagandistic shit about how voting is my 'Democratic Duty' I'm going throw my Fat Tire right at you. Simple slogans for simple folk will not be allowed except to the extent that they are derided.

Beer #2 is now in the books. The vaginafied lightweight is on a roll.

*************

Recently viewed movies--

No Country For Old Men--Liked it a lot. Until the end, that is.

There Will Be Blood--Ditto. Daniel Day Lewis certainly kicked some ass in the film--his "I will come into your house while you are sleeping and cut your throat" line and delivery of the same was a grand moment.

Shower--This was the second time we watched this one, and it was every bit as good as the first viewing. It's a Chinese movie, so if you're a "if I wanted to read, I'd grab a book" people, you may wanna steer clear of this one.

Sunshine--Worth watching if you liked Event Horizon.

**********

So this happened around beer #3.....

What do you get when you combine baked potato, I Can't Believe It's Not Margarine (read: real butter), two eggs over easy, bacon, sour cream, and some Tapatio?

You get delicious.

You also get your buzz downgraded. On to the Glenlivet...

**************

I wish Halverson would start blogging again.

**************

A few nights ago, my father decided to regale me with some Sunday School wisdom. Evidently, this country may be in dire straits, but if we ever withdraw our support from Israel then that's when we'll truly witness tragedy on an epic scale.

You can imagine my reaction.

I spent the next hour and a half trying to help him understand that Israel and its regime is not the same thing as The Jewish People. Needless to say this was time completely wasted. Pointing out that the Bible was recently written (relatively speaking when considering time/history as it is known), has documented pieces and parts missing, not to mention the serious translation issues (citing specific examples for all), I asked how he could reconcile adhering to something so totally and admittedly manipulated down through the ages, and was met with complete silence. I also pointed out that this "wisdom" of his was not a conclusion that he arrived at on his own, but one given to him, which he could not deny. More silence, and thus the conversation ended.

You gotta keep your head on a swivel when you find yourself in a vicious theological cockfight.

Who says a fundamentalist upbringing can't be fun?

****************

I saw this today and thought it was pretty goddamn awesome, as it inspired dreams of making the Trance album that I'll never make. I'm always a bit sad that I'm not more musically inclined and am a bit jealous of those who are. I remember music class when it came time to learn the notes, and all of that "reading music" business--Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge. It made me laugh in the 6th grade, it makes me laugh now.

We're on the final glass of scotch (which contains more scotch than I had originally anticipated) and moving into the home stretch.....

****************

Now that I'm properly drunk, I don't really care that I'm going to be that annoying guy and blog about the other angry drunk that now inhabits the household.

That's the "You wanna piece of me?" look. I took her up on that offer a few nights back and she punched me...

...which is why I haven't shown my face around here in a while--I have several abrasions and have been busy trying to get a restraining order. She was taunting me (oh, hey, you gonna cry now, you want another one?) in that final picture. The photo evidence cannot be denied.

You can see The Beast becoming smarter (most smartest) every day, while farting prodigiously. Tonight she released one that rivaled my best showing. Amazing. It sent the dogs running for cover.

I was trying not to be that guy, and I'm not, mostly. I blame the liquor. Denial is an ugly thing.

***********

Way too drunk to continue. Three beers, two large-size Glenlivets, and some entertaining (hopefully) words. Thus saith The Lord.

Regards,
Yours Truly,
Cordially,
Let me know if you have any questions,

Human Head

Ron Paul grilling Helicopter Ben. Again.

2008-04-03T08:48:00.002-06:00

I love how Helicopter Ben speaks of the PPT. It's just an informal meeting, they don't really do too much.....they have coffee, they talk, no big whoop.

Soothing the Beast

2008-03-31T18:33:00.007-06:00

Captains Log--Five and a half weeks

We've been examining The Beast for lo these many weeks, but all efforts to soothe (all very scientific and led by countless experts) have thus yielded a comparatively small amount of fruit.

The Beast will not be soothed.

The problem is as follows: The Beast loves food. Like Randy Jackson loves twinkies and small boys that can't run fast. Big Love. When food is presented, it gets visibly excited and a great thrashing around commences. This frenzy leads The Beast to miss the dispenser multiple times, sucking in great amounts of air. This in turn leads to great amounts of gas, and it is readily apparent that The Beast does not suffer abdominal discomfort gently. Every instance of this brings with it a torrent of great noises that shake the brain in such a way as to induce a small frenzy, causing all creatures great and small to run amok in an attempt to make the noise stop. Over time, personnel have discovered techniques for gas relief, but all such measures take time, and thus, shortly after task completion the process begins anew.

The Beast does fall into periods of sleep, but of short duration, and the crew has been feeling the effects of this compounding problem. They don't fear dying for lack of sleep. Rather, they fear not being able to die under its iron fist. However, this is no longer a worry. Today brought a leap forward that promises greater relief, in order to buy everyone more time in the further examination of this thing that is sure to be making more noise later, but for completely different reasons.

The enemy is constantly adapting.....where have I heard that before?

This beast might be a terrorist. (Thanks GW and pals!)

Be that as it may, it is a beast that is consistently soothed by rap. It's good to see some of the important characteristics come through. At the present, The Blueprint is bringing peace and harmony to household and it's holding pretty well. I'm working right how trying parse whether or not the quality of the rap is proportional to the length of effectiveness, which it in part seems to be. Current favorites seem to be Jay-Z, Kanye, Talib Kweli, and Ghostface (Pretty Toney). The Beast as not a very big fan of Nappy Roots. They worked, but not nearly as well.

Now a great majority of my time is spent wondering what that first word is going to be.

Fun. That's what it's gonna be.

I think I should probably stick a boombox on the stroller. My child likes NWA and DJ Quik, get over it. I like sleep better than your sensibilities. Wait till you see the Old English label I get for the baby bottle....family and strangers alike will be frozen aghast as the awesomeness of The Beast sends them over the edge of Good Taste.

I'm being swallowed whole by parenthood. God help this humble blog as it begins its descent to a level heretofore untold (as though enough haven't been driven away already).

(Then again, one viewpoint might be that babies just like racket, ergo rap is closer to racket than real music. This is wrong, of course, but I thought I would jot it down so as not be accused of the awful "bias" so many are tarred with. Either way, there can be no denial of impending awesomeness.)

Wine Tasting

2008-03-31T10:42:00.001-06:00

Hilarious.

(h/t, 123Iloveyou)

Meet My Abuser

2008-03-20T15:29:00.006-06:00

Joaquin is right. I am an ugly, ugly man (I only ask that you help me keep this from the Mrs., whom I have successfully fooled for going on 7 years now)--so here are a couple of pictures that are easier on the eyes.

Now, looking at the above photos of random sleeping and first bath, you may inclined to think "Boy, that's pretty cute."

You would be wrong.

She is a master manipulator, and seeks to hide her true self, which is that of a raging drunkard.

The cocktail of choice? Breast milk, straight up, and lots of it.

I think it would be helpful at this point to list some of the common features that can typically signal an out of control addiction, in order that I might not only be able to determine if my child has a problem, but also help others who may be in the same predicament.

1) Drinking Alone

This one just isn't possible, but it does naturally cause one's focus to shift to her mother, who, it seems, is a serial enabler.

2) Making excuses, or finding excuses to drink

Check and check. Always with the excuses, like, "I'm hungry" (communicated through the act of yelling, as being constantly milk drunk seems to render her unable and/or unwilling to simply say so in a calm and reasonable manner). I know better. She just wants to get tanked up and pass out, and then do it again ad infinitum.

3) Daily or frequent drinking needed to function

See #2. Check.

4) Inability to reduce or stop intake

Big Check. As I type, She Who is Eternally Thirsty has imbibed 7 times in the last 3 hours. "But she might not be getting enough!", you exclaim, your voice heavy with concern. Not so. There is sufficient visual evidence during pauses that all taps are in the Full On position and are flowing quite well. She's one of those. You know the type. It doesn't matter how much there is, she's going to drink until it's all gone or die trying.

5) Violent episodes associated with drinking

Check. These episodes occur at least a third of the time, to include self-abuse and verbal abuse towards her mother and I. Examples include trying to choke herself with a fist and hollering loudly during the dead of night. I'm honestly suprised that no one has called the cops yet. (Secretly, I'm thankful, because then she might think I called them, which would just make things worse.)

6) Drinking secretly

We're okay here, as this is not possible. For now. But she's smart, so I won't discount the possibility that this could be happening.

7) Becoming angry when confronted about drinking

Can I put two checks here? This is a big one (when combined with the similar #5 indicator*). Given that she's nearing one month of age, I figured Tuesday a good time to engage in the inevitable confrontation in an effort to nip this thing in the bud before the problem gets worse and it begins having an adverse effect on her potential future opportunities (see: Permanent Record, a youth coercion favorite).

Let's just say that it wasn't well received. I tried being gentle and reassuring her that we loved her no matter what. I tried for a good ten minutes as she spent the entire time squirming around and looking everywhere else but at me. I was near to giving up, when she looked me right in the eye, messed her pants, and then threw up on me. It wasn't an accident, either. How do I know? She smiled. She thought it was funny, that's how I know.

*Who comes up with these lists? This one is largely the same as #5....the author couldn't have simply substituted an "or" on #5 and shortened the list to 9 instead of ten? Whoever it was obviously wasn't concerned with how that extra digit might make my formatting look wonky, which is nearly the height of offense being that I am, after all, a professional.

8) Poor eating habits

Check. The Beast refuses to eat solid food, driving us to intra-family discussion of re-naming proposals. Nicholas Cage was an early contender, but we're slowly moving over to the Courtney Love camp.

9) Failure to care for physical appearance

Check. Does not care one whit about personal appearance. Would lay in any bodily fluid for an extended period of time if someone let her, and is not interested in hearing about it. See #7.

10) Trembling in the morning

Not exactly sure with this one, but if pressed I'd have to go with "No". After all, when is morning? Is there a morning, really, for someone who demands the sauce every one to three hours (give or take 1 hour)? For my part, I've lost any notion of mornings, other than the remnant of some vague intellectual knowledge that the rise of the sun signals its occurence. The new reality is that it's just one long, very long, day.

***************

Uh-oh, I'd better wrap it up for now. She's stirring, and if she sees me typing and telling you all this I'm going to get some more #5 and #7 laid on me. Who am I kidding? I'm likely to get them, regardless.

I'm contemplating future essays in an effort to deal with this abuse, including, but not necessarily limited to, "Fighting Your Baby: Gloves or Bare-Knuckle, which is appropriate, and when?", and, "Mothers as Enablers: A Frank Discussion"

Stay Tuned.

Plush Cock

2008-03-13T11:00:00.005-06:00

Pictured below is a toy we received as a gift for the new baby. It's a Baby Einstein creation. I thought perhaps it was lack of sleep causing me to see things, so I took a picture and waited a day to come back and give a second look, lest my eyes were playing tricks on me.

They weren't.

I would very much like to know why there is a GIANT COCK AND BALLS growing out of the head of this overly-cutesified turtle.

The BE executives all sit around the massive conference table, each throughly scrutinizing the other to see who has the most powerful cornflower blue tie, or if anyone brought into the meeting a grande-er latte than theirs, while the marketing team sets up the sketches for the new toy and adjusts their chunky designer frames and faded sportcoats to make sure that everyone knows they are wells of creativity retaining an appropriate business sensibility.....

Marketing #1: As you can see this turtle brings to the table some recent tactile innovations. Where most child toys strive for softness, we've made its hands and feet into various plastic sea shapes, which will give the child a greater range of tactile experience while still maintaining the whole "sea" theme. We also think that this will help promote greater environmental awareness at the earliest possible age. All people should be aware of the plight of the sea turtle. And sustainability. And, ummm.....

**fondles "Save the Sea Turtles" pin and begins weeping**

Marketing #2: **steps in to take over for emotional #1** As I'm sure you all can see, this is a very big issue for us. Well, really, it's a very big issue for the world. We were thinking of perhaps adding a Save the Planet t-shirt. We already have the cost and risk analysis team on standby to examine this addition if we can get sign off from the executive team. Global Village.

Exec #1: What?

Marketing #2: Huh?

Exec #1: Why did you just say "Global Village"?

Marketing #2: I did?

Exec #1: Yeah....anyway......**looks at Exec #2** What do you think?

Exec #2: **fondling Starbucks cup** It' not bad, but I just can't help but wonder if maybe it's not quite right. I mean, I like the whole t-shirt idea, but was thinking maybe a Starbucks t-shirt? In that way we could get Starbucks to subsidize some of the production cost as an advertising expense. I saw on the news yesterday that experts think that coffee makes infants smarter, and this way the child with the toy will not only become environmentally conscious as soon as possible, but we can also make them aware that Ethiopians exist, AND they'll know where to get good coffee. I mean seriously, what did we do before Starbucks? I just love'em.

Exec #3 (VP): No t-shirts.

Exec #1: Really, Bob? I thought Sheila's idea was pretty good. It could make for a nice revenue stream.

Exec #3: Yes, really, Steve. Everyone knows that turtles don't wear t-shirts. Besides, I hate t-shirts. It takes forever to find one that fits and feels decent, which is great till you need to wash it. You wash it once, and it's fucked. It never feels or fits right again after that. So you have to start the search all over again. It's a vicious and cruel cycle, Steve. I hate t-shirts. I've had it, just had it, and I refuse to make the next generation a victim of that scourge.

It's almost perfect. It just needs...something....

Exec #1: Sheila, any other thoughts?

Exec #2: I think it might be offensive to some groups. I mean, what are we really saying with this toy? It doesn't seem like it teaches very much...

Marketing #1: It teaches the Plight of the Sea Turtles!!! Environments and Villages!! **breaks down into sobbing again and falls, inconsolable and trembling, into the corner**

Marketing #2: Look at what you guys did now! **lips trembling, eyes getting leaky** I mean, what are we supposed to do? You have us at a total loss at this point. I'm so angry and hurt, that at this point we may as well stick penis on its head and call it a day!

Exec #3 (VP): What was that?

Marketing #2: I'm sorry, I'm just so frustrated right now. I mean we spent so much time on this.....

Exec #3 (VP): Can you really put a penis on its head?

Marketing #2: Well, umm, I guess we could....but-

Exec#3 (VP): I like it. Let's go with that.

Exec #2: Are you sure, Bob? That seems like it might be a little out of place.

Exec #3 (VP): Of course I'm sure, Steve. Think about it. The gays are adopting kids all over the place these days. They'll eat this kind of thing right up. Besides, a prominent dick never hurt anyone. I like penises--seems like the progressive way to go from my end. I also like fried eggs. Can we get one of those, too? Maybe right by the penis?

Marketing #2: Umm, sure, I guess. I'll let the design team know.

Exec #3 (VP): Good, good. So now we've got a food group, anatomy, and environmental awareness. Make this your primary action item. I think we've got a good one here, people. Stop licking the Starbucks logo, Sheila.

**END**

Meet the Breeders

2008-02-26T17:42:00.006-07:00

It is finished. And it has begun.

That's Anna Ingrid, who finally decided to make an appearance at 5:35 PM on Feb. 22nd after 60 hours of seriously intense struggle. Ridiculous. My wife no longer gets to claim that she is a wimp. She can try, of course, but from now on any such protestations will be met with a reminder of the 2.5 days spent crapping a small (6.5 lb) rocking chair in slow motion. Color me amazed.

By the way, that's not me looking at the baby. That's me falling over from exhaustion.

I was going to write a more exhaustive account to include the scare we had when she was born, and I still may do so, but for now short and sweet seems the best way. It's only a baby. Granted, in addition to being really really ridiculously good-looking as well as the smartest, most well-behaved child to ever grace the surface of the earth, it is still only a baby and only marginally interesting to someone on the outside. Thus, I promise I will try (and note here that I said "try") to not be that guy who writes long and/or sappy diatribes about his child with an accompanying stream of photos that never ends. Did I mention she smells like flowers on a spring day after a fresh rain? She does.

Whenever the subject would come up, my father (and several others) would always say, "Once you have a child of your own, you'll wonder just how in the world you ever lived without him/her."

He was right. Consider me officially on that bandwagon.

She is precious to me.

(Many thanks to all of you who sent emails of congratulations. They were very much appreciated.)

Dear Old Man Winter,

2008-01-30T18:59:00.000-07:00

72 Hours and nearly 3 feet of new snow....

I give.

Uncle.

I'll say whatever you want, just stop.

Please. This is just ridiculous.

McCain and Lieberman: Dynamic Duo

2008-01-24T17:28:00.000-07:00

It's official.

(click to enlarge)

(I see it. I caught the "worry" typo a bit too late, and simply don't want to take the time to edit.)

Lieberman as VP?

2008-01-17T10:30:00.000-07:00

I saw this Think Progress post, and well, I just couldn't help myself....

Candidates of Change

2008-01-10T20:40:00.000-07:00

Just found this, a reasonably thorough list.

Courtesy of the CIA's favorite rag, WaPo.

Saying "change" while the reality is "shuffle".

Enjoy those "choices".

We now return you to the circus, already in progress.

Baby 1, Vagina 0

2008-01-10T14:38:00.000-07:00

The poor, poor woman.

2008-01-09T10:35:00.001-07:00

This almost made me have a stroke

2008-01-05T21:36:00.000-07:00

Mrs. Head just read the following to me, posted at one of the pregnancy forums in which she occasionally lurks.

"Unique names stand out to people more than common names."

Oh god, I wish I was kidding.

The Next Big Idea

2008-01-05T20:48:00.000-07:00

So I had this idea. I'm not even going to try and explain how I got there, it would take too long. It was a Nicky Nicky Nine Doors moment, something witnessed by few, and likely only remembered by Al. As this explanation is becoming more strange with every passing sentence and is likely only heightening confusion, I'll leave it at that.

Just hear me out.

What if one were to take a nice dinner platter, add some of that superultragreenextraleafy buffet lettuce (think Sizzler), put some tits on it, and take a picture?

Tits on a Plate.

It would be all the rage in the "up and comer" pantheon of fetish sites, I just know it. If a woman's feet flopping around in goo can be popular, this can do it too. The Little Porn Idea that Could.

Think about it. All one would need is a contest and international fame would ensue.

Announce. Offer prize and conferring of title. Take submissions for a month. Get quasi-celebrity judges. Declare winner, confer title. Repeat.

After some winners, announce a larger and more prestigious contest. State or perhaps even National conferring. Maybe announce divisions in the interest of fairness. Seniors Edition for the older, more technologically sophisticated set? Look honey, Grandpa's in better spirits than we've seen him in years! Go global. Be roundly condemned and widely loved.

It could work, we have reached that level. It's a stupidity who's time has come.

(and don't even think about implementing this without cutting me in you fuckers)

Check Out My Glorious Meat

2008-01-05T18:09:00.001-07:00

(No style biting here, I swear it. BG asked for some pics. Style Bite Free since 2003. :))

The noble pig, in roast form.

Indeed, it needs something. Like more pig. Enter Bacon.

Where'd the bacon go? Where all meat should go....in the hole. (Oh, that's dirty) I went with the lengthwise incision, to ensure bacon in every slice of the roast.

Next, worcestershire, liberally. For extra worcestershire penetration, stab the roast a few times on the top and bottom. Make sure the blade goes with the grain of the meat. No, I don't know why. Instinct. The gods told me it would dishonor the memory of the pig. Just do it.

Let sit a few, then turn. Repeat, repeat, repeat, over the course of 15 mins, or so.

Place in roasting pan, cover with olive oil (that's EVOO, if you're into Rachel Ray, and holy christ, I sincerely hope you're not--if you are, I don't wanna know) and coarse ground pepper. Add a little water, cover with foil, 300-325 for 75 mins (this roast is about 2lbs).

Slice red onion thin, then rough chop. Don't toss the worcestershire/pepper mix, we're gonna use it (although you may want to stick it in the fridge since there's pork business intermingled).

Take that red onion (or white, if you prefer milder) and toss it with spinach leaves, a quality honey mustard, and lemon juice. Not a lot of lemon juice, mind you, but just enough to facilitate an even-handed spreading of the honey mustard gospel to the godless spinach inhabitants. The photo is deceiving--Don't use too much honey mustard--there should only be a very light coating on the leaves. (I will now channel William Hung and let you know that "I have no professional traning of photographing")

Okay, maybe I used a bit much. It was an accident. Don't be like me.

60 minutes in, I popped off the foil and coated the roast the previously pictured leftover worcestershire/ground pepper/pork business mix. Re-cover and back in the oven. Made the command decision to hit it with another 20 mins, after which I removed the foil and left it for another 7 mins to brown and carmelize a bit after basting it with some drippings.

Witness the honored pig.

(Optional: You can chop a nice organic pear and stuff it with the bacon. I was going to to that tonight, but the pear I was saving was MIA. C'est la vie, it was still goddamn delicious.)

Note to Floridians

2008-01-04T21:59:00.000-07:00

If you're going to rape an animal, do it quick.

(Disclaimer: I am not a Perez Reader. However, Mrs. Head is still overcoming her celebrity news addiction--she pointed this out as she fell off the wagon. Again :))

Ron Paul on Bill Moyers-01/04

2008-01-04T21:44:00.000-07:00

Watch it.

The Real Iowa Winner-Updated

2008-01-04T12:41:00.000-07:00

"So corrupted indeed and debased was that age by sycophancy that not only the foremost citizens who were forced to save their grandeur by servility, but every exconsul, most of the ex-praetors and a host of inferior senators would rise in eager rivalry to propose shameful and preposterous motions. Tradition says that Tiberius as often as he left the Senate-House used to exclaim in Greek, "How ready these men are to be slaves." Clearly, even he, with his dislike of public freedom, was disgusted at the abject abasement of his creatures." [emphasis mine]

--The Annals by Publius Cornelius Tacitus, Book 3

So, here's the top five from each side of the fence:

Democrats

Barack Obama: 38%
John Edwards: 30%
Hillary Clinton: 29%
Bill Richardson: 2%
Joe Biden: 1%

Republicans

Mike Huckabee: 34%
Mitt Romney: 25%
Fred Thompson: 13%
John McCain: 13%
Ron Paul: 10%

All the Dems say, Obama Huzzah, Guiliani lost, even to nutso Ron Paul, Huzzah! All the Republicans say, Chuck Norris and The Huck, Huzzah! That bitch Hillary took a beating, Huzzah!

Of course, one could look at this chart from another perspective....

Democrats

Barack Obama: 38% --CFR
John Edwards: 30% --CFR
Hillary Clinton: 29% --CFR
Bill Richardson: 2% --CFR
Joe Biden: 1% --CFR

Republicans

Mike Huckabee: 34% --Chummy with Serious Advisors John Bolton (CFR), and Richard Haass (President, CFR)
Mitt Romney: 25% --CFR
Fred Thompson: 13% --CFR
John McCain: 13% --CFR
Ron Paul: 10%

Sovereignty and Globalisation, and article from Mr. Haass, is as good a place as any to start for the hard of thinking. Kind of funny is it not, especially on the Repub side of the fence*, what with all of the "top tier" candidates talking incessantly about the importance of border security. It's not a lie, certainly, because lying would be bad. But perhaps they're referring to a North American border, rather than the US border?

*I'm not addressing the democratic side because the stated agenda of the CFR lines up very nicely with the particular Kumbaya flavor of Kool-Aid that they, by and large, consume with great gusto. And besides, everyone knows that Democrats are communist socialist surrender-monkey terrorist-loving white guilt baguette chomping homosexual America-haters, right? (haha, I got jokes)

And already, as is so easily done when speaking of these things, I'm deviating.

In examining the top Republican "choice" from Iowa, once again the "evangelicals" or "fundamentalists" or whatever you want to call them are once again having their great numbers, their primitive instincts, and their massive ignorance highlighted*. You'd think they would learn. I can only imagine the smug satisfaction that must be on display in the inner chambers of the Harold Pratt House.

*Again, for the hard of thinking, this could easily be applied to the Democrat adherents as well. For now, I'm simply focusing on the Red Pachyderms rather than the Blue Asses.

One of the central tenants of being an evangelical is that you are opposed to an all-encompassing international system of governance (one-world government) because the Bible clearly states that such a thing is a harbinger of the "end times", and thus "evil". And yet these good, salt-of-the-earth Christian folk line up like good lambs behind the new shepherd candidates they are given, especially the preacher. Because preachers are good people. They don't lie, they know lots of stuff, and preachers naturally commune with the Lord of Hosts on a much more regular basis. Never mind that the preacher in question (as well as the other candidates) have latched themselves onto the people who's agenda is the very antithesis of their "values".

(Christians, start your persecution complex engines now)

(Neoconservative security state idealogues, start your "But the terrorists..." engines now)

The point is not whether or not globalisation or one-world government (or whatever other name you give it) is a good or a bad thing. What does matter is that an organization as massively wealthy and influential as the CFR (being the offspring of the Royal Institute for International Affairs), with their stated and up-front agenda towards these very ends, owns virtually all the horses in this "democratic" race, where America will make it's next "choice", and that should be a problem for everyone, regardless of position, because it means that the "internationalist" agenda will go forward. The only difference will be in the details of its Liberal or Conservative implementation.

Not much of a choice, is it?

Democracy in action. Huzzah, indeed.

CFR wins! CFR wins! CFR wins!

Update: Added Link to Huck bullet. Also worth reading, Digby-Another Huckabee Lie. Indeed whether or not he's lying about his CFR connections, you can tell by his blather about those folks that he sure would like some.

I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to see this...

2008-01-02T14:07:00.000-07:00

Democratic Test Returns from International Herald Tribune.

267 of 301 precincts - 89 percent

John Edwards27,001 - 29 percent

Dennis Kucinich23,296 - 25 percent

Mike Gravel6,498 - 7 percent

Bill Richardson5,682 - 6 percent

Barack Obama5,471 - 6 percent

Joe Biden5,217 - 6 percent

Hillary Clinton4,753 - 5 percent

Chris Dodd3,781 - 4 percent

Michael Skok1,820 - 2 percent

Total Write-ins1,630 - 2 percent

O. Savior1,249 - 1 percent

Tom Laughlin1,159 - 1 percent

Tom Koos1,090 - 1 percent

Dal LaMagna1,052 - 1 percent

Caroline Killeen854 - 1 percent

Bill Keefe753 - 1 percent

D.R. Hunter656 - 1 percent

William Hughes588 - 1 percent

Richard Caligiuri492 - 1 percent

Kenneth Capalbo390 - 0 percent

Randy Crow296 - 0 percent

Henry Hewes194 - 0 percent

I have no idea what it means exactly, but I'm thinking someone's ass may be toast. Just a feeling. Maybe it's the 'not be broadcast or published' part.

Indeed, a New Year.

2007-12-31T19:12:00.000-07:00

It's about 8 degrees right now, this 8:30 PM on New Years Eve. What I wanna know is this:

Where the fuck is global warming when I need it?

It's a bitchin' New Years party here, and I would wave goodbye to 2007, but I'm too huddled and shivering.

Everyone here is totally wasted. Yup, baby too. Hell, she just puked over the upstairs rail and caught her second wind. This family won't have any problem making it to midnight. Ridiculous raging parties into the wee hours is just how we roll.

One last thing....

Carson Daly, as well as the Dick Clark that came before him, can suck it.

Happy New Year

The War on Terror will keep on keepin' on

2007-12-29T14:41:00.001-07:00

Anglo-American Ambitions behind the Assassination of Benazir Bhutto and the Destabilization of Pakistan

This was Pakistan’s 9/11; Pakistan’s JFK assassination, and its impact will resonate for years.

Contrary to mainstream corporate news reporting, chaos benefits Bush-Cheney’s “war on terrorism”. Calls for “increased worldwide security” will pave the way for a muscular US reaction, US-led force and other forms of “crack down” from Bush-Cheney across the region. In other words, the assassination helps ensure that the US will not only never leave, but also increase its presence.

The Pakistani election, if it takes place at all, is a simpler two-way choice: pro-US Musharraf or pro-US Sharif.

Pope: I only look possessed.

2007-12-28T23:33:00.000-07:00

[source]

Pope's exorcist squads will wage war on Satan | the Daily Mail

The Pope has ordered his bishops to set up exorcism squads to tackle the rise of Satanism.

[...]

Each bishop is to be told to have in his diocese a number of priests trained to fight demonic possession.

The initiative was revealed by 82-year-old Father Gabriele Amorth, the Vatican "exorcistinchief," to the online Catholic news service Petrus.

"Thanks be to God, we have a Pope who has decided to fight the Devil head-on," he said.

Perhaps Mr. CreepyPope could start by using those squads on himself.

The Pieces

2007-12-28T18:05:00.000-07:00

2008 approaches, preceded by a deep sense of foreboding, and I don't think I'm alone. Not totally, at least. Like an impending storm that you feel before you see, it approaches, and hosts of tiny voices deep inside your cells begin warning you that unless you find some shelter you're going to be inconvenienced in a very big way. Sliding down the slope towards the Sarlac (look honey, a Star Wars nerd trying to write! Thats cute....) with little to hold onto but sand.

That's really just a poor way of describing in a short paragraph how I feel about the geopolitics of it all. Another several posts for another several days--I'd rather refrain from politics or anything "geo" for now. I only mention it to bring up how this particular aspect of the current foreboding (can I shorten that? Maybe with a capital Forbode and magically turn it into a noun. The Forbode.) has a strictly external quality. It hovers in the outer periphery. There is another quality to it, though, as well. It's more internal, as though something is hovering underneath you and is ready to rise. Any walls you try and erect around yourself won't matter in the least, and any methods of intervention you try and stage will be for naught.

********

About four months after arriving at my first base, we received the news that we were deploying. As soon as I heard it, I didn't want to go. Not because unfamiliar places suddenly seemed utterly frightening, that part of the deal was worth looking forward to. There was the sudden feeling that something was going to happen and that Saudi Arabia wasn't going to be a very good place to be when it did. Naturally, walking up to my bosses and informing them of this "feeling" wasn't going to change a thing, so off I went.

Four weeks or so passed and everyone had, for the most part, adjusted. Taking a dump so close to another person, and by close I mean separated by only 6 inches of partition cloth, no longer seemed quite as strange. Who knew that forgetting what it was like to be cool, or clean, or alone, would become so normal, or that it would happen so quickly? That you would swear Fanta came directly from a divine bosom, or that a girl you might have previously described as "hammertime" is now "kinda hot"? Ah, the strange and disconcerting qualities of human adaptation (and desert queens)....

As I barreled from my tent to walk the 200 yards to the toilet, I ran into the First Sergeant who was closing in with a very businesslike look on his face. He abruptly got my attention, and after confirming that I was the guy he was looking for, told me I needed to get to a phone. My grandmother had died. He then proceeded to ensure that I wasn't harboring any illusions. No, I could not go back for the funeral. That sort of thing is only for direct family, and a grandparent doesn't fall into that category.

I knew it. I knew I had known it.

Again, it's not like I could have stayed behind and I knew that, but it was upsetting to know that I hadn't (or was it, couldn't?) recognized it. It was only in that moment that it dawned on me that the feeling was no different than the one I carried with me as I left for tech school. At the time, I simply thought the sense of foreboding was the knowledge that I was going to get dumped by the girl with whom I was (at the time) madly in love. I didn't want it to happen, knew it would, and eventually it did. However, during the same period, my grandfather died. I could remember wondering at the time if this foreboding had to do with both things or just one, and if it was just one of them, which one? Standing in the desert in front of the FS in the white hot sun of the early afternoon, I had my answer.

Another piece of who I was up to that point had fallen away, and all I could do was look. My grandfather was a large piece, and grandmother was a still larger one. I had much to look at.

************

Last night I was speaking to my father on the phone when the feeling returned. He was relating a few stories about when I was very young, a ritual to be expected with a new child joining the ranks. Indeed, how else will the common folk be able to determine what traits made it through the gene lottery? It was on the tail end of a story about me leaving a load all down the hallway that it returned, strong enough to momentarily cause a loss in my train of thought.

This is not a prediction that my father will die this year, although it's hard not to at least fleetingly think such things based on the past and the fact that my diabetic father is gorging himself in that direction as fast as he can go.* It is largely useless to try and specifically determine such things.

*And no, this sentence is not revealing as to the source of the foreboding or some subtle way of saying that I'm scared of losing my father and am not sure how to deal with it. Just so we're clear.

I've heard and read a lot of people who, when speaking of loss, describe an emptiness left behind. If anyone had asked at the time my grandfather or grandmother fell away from my life, I very well may have said the same thing, but I think I would have been wrong. When such a piece falls away, we are so focused on it lying there that it is assumed that only emptiness remains. It is not. It is you, who you are, left bare, without the protective and supportive shell that once was. Many times it is petrifying and largely incomprehensible.

Something inside me says that I'm about to see more of myself. All I can do is look. It is all I need to do because when I look, I understand, and that makes the falling pieces more of the revealing they are supposed to be rather than the dissembling they seem to be.

A banner week for Idaho

2007-12-27T19:26:00.000-07:00

First, the newest "heroes" that will be serving, protecting, and causing PTSD.

[Academy Head] Black says, "Our class president was ex-military. It slipped in."

Oooh, ex-military. Well, why didn't you say something sooner? Aaaah, those wild and crazy stormtroopers, always with their jokes. Boys will be boys. Funny stuff, and not frightening in the least.

And...

Where were you during the Great Tater Tot Fire of '07?

Good god...

Sweet Cinematic Relief

2007-12-27T18:12:00.000-07:00

Finally, a couple of tiny lights shine through the dark pool of cinematic swill.....

The Lives of Others--An excellent story that takes place during the 80's in East Germany, and gives a glimpse of life underneath the watchful eye of the Stasi. A calm yet powerful look at the surveillance state and the people struggling underneath its massive weight and scope. A well-spent 2 1/2 hours.

Juno--Thank You for Smoking was a decent show, but Jason Reitman knocked it out with this one.

No big drawn out reviews, just a hearty recommend on both.

Apprehension, Xanadu, and the Baby Jesus

2007-12-24T13:24:00.000-07:00

Tonight, the world will witness something not seen in at least a decade.

I will enter a church for Christmas Eve service. It's true.

Don't worry, it's not like I was Slain in the Spirit while buying chips or anything. The in-laws wanted us to come, and being filled with the Christmas, X-mas, Holiday, Kwanzah, and Hannukah Spirit, I have assented. The church not being of the Hellfire and Brimstone persuasion helps in this regard, but it would be dishonest to say that I'm not a bit apprehensive about the whole deal. Churches in general just creep me out, they always have, mostly for the ritual and the show that so many are insistent on being part of. It seems like just another one of the "extra" church events where the really good ones can show up to get some extra credit from Jesus.

I'm not saying this one will be like that, and in fact I doubt that it will be given its non-denominational, universalist bent. But like I said, given where I come from, apprehensiveness still whispers, a little behind and to the left (it's difficult to say if that's the devil or the angel on my shoulder...it might just be schizophrenia--heh).

Also joining us will be Grandmother-in-law, which may represent the toughest challenge of the evening. I must follow the One Rule: Don't say "fuck" in front of Grandma. This is more difficult than many might think, since Me Driving=Everlasting String of Profanity in most cases. It's my coping mechanism, it makes me feel better. However, I'm determined to internalize it this evening, although this may cause me to let loose a string right in the middle of service, which leads me to wonder....if such a thing happened, could I get away with it by saying I was channeling the Holy Ghost and he is very, very angry with all of you?

Yeah, somehow I doubt it too.

I'll have to make sure that they're aware that they should be happy I didn't wear my 'Jesus Shaves' t-shirt and commit Most High Sacrilege. I love that t-shirt, and am of the mind that Jesus loves it as well, but the prevailing wind over the past few centuries is that Jesus does not have a sense of humor.

Seriously, if we're created in His Image, doesn't it follow that he would find the humor in the solemn absurdity of the War on Christmas and Other Assorted Very Serious Issues bandied about by the Christian Soldiers this time of year? I'd like to think so.

I'm going to assume that he also understands and won't hold it against me that I may have to scrounge a Xanadu before the festivities. Many might hold that The Most High frowns on the use of prescription drugs, and I think that may be correct, at least where dependency on them is concerned. However, I think he would understand their spare use in order to usher in a more relaxed and worshipful experience, and to prevent the saying of "fuck" in front of Grandma.

The Baby Jesus doesn't want that, and frankly, neither do I.

(Holliest and Jolliest Christmas wishes to all--The Heads)

Rogue PIctures, Fox, the WB and how I got fucked last evening

2007-12-22T19:18:00.001-07:00

Remember that last post, the one where I said "hopefully not disappointed" in reference to watching the Simpsons?

Yeah. Let's all go ahead and take a moment to consider those hopes as they lay dashed on the shoals of ruined imagination (wow, what an insanely crappy sentence...fuckit, I can't help myself).

This is not a case of "Expectations were too high and I set myself up". Indeed, it is generally (I believe) an accurate prediction that an animated series getting its own movie can be relied upon to be at least one description level lower than its general series description.* For example, in the case of the aforementioned Simpsons movie, it would be natural to assume that what (for the most part) has been a Great series will spawn a motion picture that is merely Good, or a level lower still, Decent.

*a notable exception to this, I think, would be the South Park Movie, a movie that was at least as good, if not better than the series.

Disappointment begins making its way in when the realization comes home that the movie on the screen warrants a lower descriptor. Much lower. My raging disappointment with The Simpsons is such that it's become difficult to decide between "travesty" and "omigod, does Matt Groening also whore his children at the truck stop if the price is right?" Doubtless, the answer (like most things) lies somewhere in between, but damned if I can think of what that might be.

Moving on, but, since we're on the subject....

Let's talk some more about the movies I watched and how I feel about them.

Good, I'm glad you're still here since I will take this to mean that you also think this is a good idea. Those other people that left just now? Well, fuck them.

I'd like to talk about Balls.

of Fury. (pardon my clumsy use of base humor)

Not even the most intellectually devoid could harbor illusions regarding the quality of this movie. Normally, even Bad films (not to be confused with Horrid) can be at least partially redeemed (in the "hey, it had its moments, I haven't entirely wasted the last 90 minutes of my life" sense) by the presence of Christopher Walken, who lies in that wonderful space of acting talent that is both very bad and very fantastic at the same time. It is the same in every movie, with only slight variations and relies primarily on the movie which surrounds it, like Christian Slater, but without the urge to gouge my eyes out and seal my ears shut. Not so with Balls of Fury. It wasn't the lame humor...the movie itself was just plain fucking lazy, in the vein of Taladega Nights or Blades of Glory (incidentally, it is these last two which prompted the vow to never lay my eyes on another feature-length Will Farrell movie as long as I live--truly, 4 hours of my life completely wasted). Literally, I think someone pushed the comedy button the Rogue Pictures Script-o-Matic, but only on 25% power in order to save on the electric bill (gotta be "green", you know).

The short version? "Mindless Entertainment" would be entirely too generous. Walken couldn't even earn this one a minor redemption.

And last, but certainly not least....let's leave movies for a moment and talk a bit about a series called Smallville. Yeah, the one that comes out of the WB Teen Script-o-Matic bosom. I didn't want to take it from the friends who were pushing the DVD's like the CIA pushing crack into the ghettos. It's the WB, which basically means that it would be better for your brain if you ate an entire sheet of acid. Nonetheless, coerced as we were by the protestations of "It's cheesy, but it's really cool" (and other variations of this same theme), we took them and promised to "give them a chance". Over the last couple of weeks, we have done so.

It's bad. It's really really bad. It so fucking bad I was reaching for the home tracheotomy kit to try and open another airway, so large were the demands of my gasping.

(is this alienating anyone?)

In contrast to the The Simpsons Movie or Balls of Fury, which simply left me annoyed and in a generally bad mood, I can at least handle Smallville to an extent. It's very fucking bad, but with a wholesome tinge so benign in feeling that I find it difficult to be too annoyed. Rather, I don't mind having it on, as I can do other things while the painful nature of the dialogue delivered by acting-folk that defy description makes me giggle and/or laugh out loud. I can just hear the set....Director--I need you to show me angst! Actor/Actress--Ummm...angry?

But here's the thing that gets me. It's not the show per se. As I stated in a very roundabout way above, I don't despise the show (at least not nearly to the extent that I despise, say, The Today Show). Smallville is what it is. What bakes my noodle dark is the sheer amount of people I've run across who "love" this show and rave about how "cool" it is. That is not hyperbole, it is not exaggeration, and this is exactly what perplexes me. If an "adult" is watching this, and talking about it to others, I don't think it's unreasonable to expect at least something to the effect of "it's so bad, it's good". However, I have yet to come across anything like this. The words "love it" and "really cool" are uttered in nearly every single instance with no irony whatsoever, and this seems a loud comment on what should be described as an intellectual emergency.

Bad special effects, worse acting, and filled to the brim with the most transparent and scripted pop-culture platitudes imaginable. This is cool? This is what keeps people riveted?

And this is where I'll stop, since I've gone off in a direction that wasn't intended and that requires more words and time than I've got at the moment.

Short version? Don't watch The Simpsons Movie. Don't watch Balls of Fury. And if you must watch Smallville, be careful that you don't wake up one morning to find yourself brain dead.

UPDATE: Reading this made Mrs. Head want to watch Smallville. Her excuse is, "I'm pregnant." I tried telling her it's going to make the baby stupid....my household is doomed.

Don't call me Fat Head

2007-12-20T19:47:00.001-07:00

Call me, In Shape Head.

The Honda is free. Very Lincoln-ish of me.

Former prison.

It is quite a limp tree.

That's me, getting totally ripped.

Shortly after last night's post, my Interwebs quit. They just came back, which is great, but the Netflix's just dropped The Simpsons on me, and well Homer wins for tonight.

Back later, hopefully not disappointed.

My Remorseful Wang

2007-12-19T13:53:00.000-07:00

I've been spending the last few weeks doing work on another project, which I can hopefully announce (and start flogging) sometime around the New Year. And that's where I've been the last few weeks. I'm trying to leave out the fact that the two of us have been doing some moping around due to missing the Vegas festivities, and I know you're not supposed to say this in the context of poker....but I'm gonna say it anyway--Rooster was due. Big ups.

Pregnancy. My anti-Vegas.

I would have had a picture to accompany that, but the Mrs. prefers not to be pregnant on the Interwebs, and really, who can blame her. Just picture her as you have known her, plus one-third. ETA, two months to Spawn Emergence, and the prospect is a bit more frightening than it was. Frightening, mostly because this kid is ridiculously active, which means that Mrs. H is increasingly getting kicked in the kidneys, lungs, bladder, etc., which increasingly compels me to apologize for the offending penis that launched us into The Breeding Leagues to begin with. Sleep, bye bye. Time, bye bye. Money, bye bye (adjusting to tis should be easier given there was never much of this to begin with).

We also still do not have a name. This late in the game I think it may be starting to annoy the relatives, but there's little that can be done about that. We've largely stopped trying at the moment because everything is starting to run together and we're both exhausted with the sheer amount of intolerably stupid names to wade through in the search for a reasonable candidate.

Seriously, fucking Stokely? That's not a name, it sounds like a brand of vegetable.

How about Golden Palace.com? If there's going to be a stupid name, I'm of the mind that it should be to the furthest reaches of stupid and we should be paid. After all, it won't be that many years and she could have it legally changed. Perhaps a yearly fee could be negotiated....mmmm, recurring income......

***********

In further news, Mama Nature is busy making me realize just how out of shape I've become.

That's close to two feet of snow, in the last day-and-a-half....with another 9-13 inches to follow the rest of today and tonight. I'm in awe. I haven't seen this much snow since I was 7, or so. I'm keeping the Audi dug out, but as you can see I basically left the Honda to be buried. It's dead weight.

I spend three hours shoveling snow yesterday, and will have clocked nearly four today after it's all said and done. My forearms are hollering at me as I type, no thanks to the circa 1937 snow shovel I've been using. It's all wood and metal, weighs in at about 6 lbs, and that's with no snow sticking to it, which it does since the metal scoop is rusted. It is completely kicking my ass.

I'm enjoying the hell out of it, although it is entirely possible this outlook could change as it persists. I wish I could say the same for Mrs. H, as it seems late stage pregnancy and snow aren't pairing up too well, but she's being awfully stoic considering she's being internally beaten and having her life force ceaselessly being sucked away.

I should probably stop here and go apologize for my penis again. Back later.

MP's Behaving Badly

2007-12-12T21:03:00.000-07:00

MP's behaving badly in front of their new supranational masters.

Daily Mail--

"British UKIP, Eurosceptic Conservatives and Polish far-right MEPs today brought the hooligan behaviour of the football stadium into the European Parliament", Graham Watson, leader of the assembly's Liberals told Reuters.
"They are a disgrace to their countries."

Translation: Be polite to the new bosses. No, it doesn't matter if the people of Europe don't want to be ruled from Brussell's, that decision was made back in the 50's. Newer, improved, and more free "constituional" rules state that people are allowed to be displeased, but only if they voice that displeasure in a polite manner.

Still though, pretty cool of these MP's. I'm looking forward to seeing this kind of demonstration from Congress on a variety of issues very shortly.

To go with the billion dollars I'm looking forward to seeing underneath my pillow.

Which I will place in the saddlebags of the magical pony set to ferry me over an ice cream rainbow.

You're not dying fast enough

2007-12-12T20:06:00.000-07:00

Mein Gott im Himmel.

Truly unbelievable. Don't take to long to eat your mound of saturated goodness. Here's the real kicker....

Several weeks later, he received a letter from Civil Enforcement demanding £125, or £75 if the charge was paid quickly.

Okay. So. If I go up to a guy and demand $250, for sitting too long (in written citation form, or course. You can't just say things like this, someone might think they're being robbed), but offer to halve it if he pays me now instead of in two weeks...I can use that as a business model? That's not seedy mafia extortion shit?

Here's another one.

Civil Enforcement=Ampco's Ambition

No, everything is not fine.

2007-11-29T18:59:00.000-07:00

Not even close.

A Thanksgiving Tale

2007-11-26T15:39:00.000-07:00

My wife and I have many times wondered aloud whether the dumber of our two dogs, Stella, if given the opportunity, would eat herself to death if presented with a virtually unlimited pile of food. Is Stella, who purports to be of dog-kind, really more goldfish or shark?

Last night brought us the answer.

I cooked two meals this Thanksgiving, which I thought would be awful. While it required more kitchen time than one would normally want, the positives much outweighed the negatives as it offered two opportunities for wanton gluttony. Ridiculous, really, but no less fun. A lot of people think Thanksgiving is a dead or useless holiday, and while it's true that very few have any idea what it's about beyond the national tradition of gorging oneself, it is definitely not dead in this house. I personally give Thanksgiving more weight than Christmas, as I value a good meal above being given a bunch of crap I never needed to begin with.

I'm relating this because during the course of both Thanksgiving meals, our food-obsessed canine was being driven nuts. You could see it in her eyes since, for the last couple of years, the dogs get Thanksgiving scraps. This year we decided to put the kibbosh on that practice, as the flatulence created by said scraps is frankly intolerable. And of course, the dogs, who can't remember anything beyond the basic command of "sit" and the word "biscuit" (the schnauzer intellect being the polar opposite of "prodigious") sat there and looked like we were carving their hearts out along with the bird because, after all, don't they usually get some?

Which brings us to the minor emergency of last night, or as it might also be called, 'Stella gets into the holiday spirit in spite of the egregious Scrap Denial.'

After a day of feasting on our vast trove of leftovers and wandering in and out of a mellow tryptophan haze, we made preparations to retire, which means it's time to let the dogs out one last time. Normally they get a few minutes and a quick cry of "Who wants a biscuit?" brings them in (that, and the 15 degree temp). Last night though, nothing. And remember, this is the dog for whom no danger is too great in pursuit of something edible, up to and including piles of shit.

I waited, called, went back inside, made sure all the doors were shut tight, went back out and called, went back inside (remember, it's fucking 15 degrees) and started to worry a bit, put on something a bit warmer and went out to smoke and do some real waiting. True to form, and as any smoker will tell you, if you are sick of waiting for something (say, a ride) just light up a smoke and whatever you are waiting on will suddenly appear (unfortunately, this does not work with things like the lottery or a truckload of fine steaks. I'm theorizing that this is likely because these things are never actually expected to arrive, which begs the question, do I simply need to twist my brain around to the point where I really DO expect these things to show up? Shhhh, it's The Secret.). True to this, as soon as I lit my smoke, here comes Stella at a leisurely pace. I assumed she must have been too far away to hear "Biscuit", which normally prompts a full-bore sprint.

Once we got inside where the light was better, she just stood there staring at me with her tail tucked. This had me running through the list of things that she might have just done that she knew she shouldn't be doing...like eating massive piles of dung. She was licking her chops a lot. A shaking of the revulsion of the thought when it also occurred to me that she does the tail tuck thing when she feels bad, which has only been twice in four years. Well, make that three times.

As I stared down at her, I swear I could see her getting fatter right before my eyes. She was transforming into a salt and pepper version of her cousin Lily, a schnauzer of equal height and length, but triple the girth. Truly, Lily is astonishing to the unprepared, as the space she occupies is neither "toy" nor "miniature".

I reached down to feel her belly and truly my eyes weren't deceiving me. She was swelling up. It was like a massive hemorrhage as her whimpers and shaking rapidly began increasing. There are no emergency vets in these parts, and after confirming the fact with the Mrs. who was now downstairs helping to attend, the both of us sat wondering if we were just going to have to sit around and watch the dog die. Seriously, what in god's name could she have possible eaten to cause this.

Enter the Googles. (who now officially tops this years list of Things for which I am Thankful) Time to search for things that will induce vomiting in a dog. The first few sites stated the obvious in suggesting Ipecac, which we don't have. However, a bit more trawling the webs brought another alternative, so if you live with painfully stupid and hopelessly food-obsessed animals take note. Two teaspoons of hydrogen peroxide will do the trick.

Stella was fine within ten minutes. What she left on the floor, however, was not fine. Not fine at all.

Somewhere out there, she evidently got a hold of a goodly portion of a Thanksgiving meal that someone threw out. Even after some thorough investigating today, we still haven't located the source to determine if she got into someone's trash or if someone had simply thrown it outside for the animals and she just happened to be the first on the scene. On our floor lay close to five pounds of potatoes, carrots, turkey and various other food items. That's quite literally one-third of her body weight, and I marveled at the scope of her single-minded gluttony. While we were relieved that the dog was not going to be dying in front of us, the waves of revulsion returned as the stomach contents revealed that for an appetizer Stella had also consumed a giant pile of shit.

Nice. So much for that odor-free holiday we were going for by not giving the dogs any leftovers. And of course, the answer to our question is a resounding "Yes".

Amazing and horrifying, for you on this post-Thankgiving.

Never Question Authority

2007-11-22T10:12:00.000-07:00

This morning I woke up and sat down to teh emails and the googles, and BG had sent me this:

You Gotta Ask Me Nicely.

Tasers on Thanksgiving. Hell, they both start with a 't' so why not? A morning screed while I wait on sweet potatoes the size of my dogs (seriously, these things are going to take close to 3 hours).

The taser is everywhere, and each day brings news of a fresh incident. Diabetic coma? Don't speak the native language? In a wheelchair and mentally ill? It doesn't matter, you're getting tased. You will come under the thumb (or should that be fist?). You will submit. You will know, intimately, pain compliance.

These are only three incidents in a pile that grows ever larger. What's missing? That's right. Any meaningful consequences for the bully boy cops that do this kind of thing. Because they 'serve and protect'. Because they wear a uniform, and are part of the fraternal order given leave to wield any authority it wants. Who needs courtesy, or knowledge of actual rights/laws, when you have a taser and "post-9/11" mentality. You don't. You can tase whomever you choose, as long as you say the word 'reasonable' and/or 'suspected' somewhere. Then you can go to Hooters and impress the young girlies with your manly exploits.

How dare I criticize the boys in blue (that aren't wearing so much blue anymore, but rather black tactical gear). To be sure, lest those that are hard of thinking accuse me of vilifying ALL police, there do exist good police, and yes, it is a difficult job. But what percentage of these bully boys running amok and tasering people because they didn't "respect their authoritae" actually see any meaningful consequences? It barely registers on the scale.

Cut to another Drop Dead Gorgeous dramatization:

Gratuitous use of force? Brutality? Shit no. After some thorough investigating we determined that they were acting reasonably in the face of bad vibes. Bad vibes usually means a drunk and/or drugged terrorist. We've given them some paid leave to think about what they've done and how they might have done it better.

What people desperately need to think about, instead of making excuses for rotten, corrupt, ignorant, authoritarian bullies, are the consequences brought on by the lack of consequences. Lack of consequences for bad cops means that the good cops are driven out. A cop doing the job as it was meant to be done cannot survive in an environment where the mantra has gone from 'protect and serve' to 'coerce and enforce'. Every day that this goes on, and with every incident, a good cop gets fed up and leaves, or is pushed out due to his inability/unwillingness to 'get with the program', and the pool of scum creeps outward just a little more.

The argument is made everywhere that the taser is a humane alternative to the gun. Tasers are not a good thing because they are "non-lethal". They are just the opposite. The "non-lethal" (and it's weird how "non-lethal" has killed so many...) is nothing more than an excuse to inflict pain and anguish, and to assert control (justified or not) on a whim. Take some time and think about what kind of person desires to do these things. Replace a taser with a gun in any of these daily 'incidents' and just imagine what it would look like, what the outcry would be (and should be).

But now the collective head turns away, because after all, it's "non-lethal". Point-and-shoot, set it and forget it, not much different than the video shooters. "Non-lethal" means everyone watching can grab their remote, point-and-shoot, set it and forget it. It's difficult to decide which is more horrifying. The police that do these things or the media/mass mind that allows and even encourages (in many cases) it to continue.

By their actions you will know them

2007-11-20T16:51:00.000-07:00

Occupational Perception

2007-11-17T23:43:00.001-07:00

OMIGODZ! EXIT MEENZ BLUDBATHZ!

In Basra, violence is a tenth of what it was before British pullback, general says - International Herald Tribune

British officials expected a spike in such "intra-militia violence" after they pulled back from the city's center, and were surprised to find none, Binns said.

-Saddam has WMD. Lie.
-We're bringing freedom to Iraq. Lie
-The war will cost practically nothing. Lie.
-Withdrawl will unleash bloodshed and violence heretofore untold. Worse than we ever could have created ourselves. Lie.

And on and on and on and on and on. Trying to gather in all of the lies of the last seven years (to say nothing of the last 100) would be like trying to catch all of the raindrops in a thunderstorm, so I'm not even going to try. Just these four placed next to one another is embarrassing enough.

But hell, it's not as though Congress, the media, or a very big portion of Amerika cares too much (at least, not enough of the portion that "matter" in this system--hint, it's not "The People" anymore, if it ever was). And why should they? Amerika is too exceptional, too civilized and modern and highminded, and frankly too incoherent (a nod, a wink, and a click click to you Friend Television) to actually do anything whatsoever to put a stop to government funding of unmitigated death, destruction, and suffering. Even as the "soft fascism" head turns its eyes toward us and continues its predatory advance with a speed that, while we were busy entertaining ourselves and apathetically observing, has done little else but gather strength over these many years.

Let's have a pause here for mock-shocked, deluded folks now screaming "You hate/blame America" (or some talking point variation thereof dropped into their empty vessel skulls courtesy the Talking Opinion Box) Grab a refreshement, take a leak--it might be a long pause.

Anyone thinking that the other side of the aisle has finally mustered the courage to save us with this latest fake pullout stunt attached to the $50 billion appropriations drop in the war bucket is also very sadly mistaken. Go read the legislation. The circumference of the loopholes contained within are so huge the outline isn't even isn't within eyeshot. But you'd never know that by reading the major headlines presented. Digressions within a hodgepodge of digressions.

In reading the article, I'm sure many have noticed that the Brits haven't "pulled out", not completely anyway. They've relocated from the palace in city center to the airport. Redeployed. That's a term you'll see a lot of in that appropriations bill with all of the oh-so-firm-and-courageous "withdrawl provisions". Which brings me to one of my favorite parts of the article:

"We've been in that de facto role since we moved out of the palace...but we hope the (December) transfer will symbolize the end of a period many in Basra city perceived as occupation," [Major General] Binns said.

Perceived. The Iraqi's "perceive" it to be an occupation. Really? It's only their perception? Because I could have sworn that "occupation" is exactly what it was, and IS, given its basic and simple definition. Of course nothing in this world anymore should be basic and simple to understand, because if it was, what will all of the experts do with their time if they can't spend it explaining to us the intricacies of changes applied to once simple concepts?

The general, speaking unchallenged through the echo chamber media, wants to make sure you know that it's not exactly an occupation, but rather a perception of such.

Take War, for example. A bunch of people are told by a few people to go kill a whole bunch of other people so those few can impose their will. See? Distilled down it is simple. But we are constantly reminded how complicated and extremely delicate is the geopolitics of it all, and not to worry our pretty little heads, our Strong and Courageous Leaders will handle all of it because they've been doing this their entire lives--their resumes are strong with Public Service Gravitas and General Seriousness. Secrecy and lies? Well, that's just all part of the "game", isn't it? If you were richer, or smarter, or had better connections, or perhaps better genetics (as we will increasingly hear) perhaps you would be in the game. But you're not. You're not a "success" in this system, so better to let your betters handle things. Quick, the next episode of Can the American Idols Dance? is about air and you don't want to miss your chance to text message and vote for your favorite.

Use of the word "perceived" does nothing but make an effort to subtly reinforce the notion that the current illegal and murderous occupation is something other than just that--an illegal and murderous occupation that is genocidal in its numbers of dead and displaced. Occupation is not "perception". Either foreign troops are present and imposing their will, or they are not. Simple.

And now it's being plastered everywhere there's an eyeball or an ear that we now have to take the party next door to Iran. See lie numero uno above, replace Saddam with Iran, and voila--another miscalculation with good faith intent.

The really depressing thing is that it looks as though those who percieve the lies as truth, who perceive themselves as being free, who cannot perceive their own demise because any and all survival instinct has been homogenized and info-tained away, will let it happen.

When lies have been exposed and go unpunished, we are culpable. In the face of past falsehoods, when further lies are swallowed and cheered, we are culpable. We are paying the bill now, and will pay an even harsher tab in the future, and not just physically because of the economics of the thing. We will also pay psychically, when finally the full and uninhibited light of day is fully shed upon our vicious actions. That day that is coming where no one will be able to look away from that empty spot where empathy once lived. No partisanship, ignorance, good intentions, or any other dispassionate and academic sounding adjective will be able to effectively apply.

And so much for that (what was intended to be a short post)--what was the point of another anti-war tirade? The points are many, but for tonight, it was prompted by the question of where to be counted. When it all shakes out, where will we as individuals be counted? Will I be counted in the end as one who swallowed the lies? Even worse, might I be one counted as so gleefully ignorant that I didn't care to recognize the lie in the first place? Someone without the will to show a human level of disdain for the constant psychopathic barrenness continually heaped onto our consciousness? Will I accept with the daily redefining of words like "occupation" as something perceived rather than a decidedly real state of affairs?

No, No, and Hell No. The tirades must continue, lest I wake up one day and find that I also have been counted amongst the prevailing emptiness.

Annie Duke testifies for online poker

2007-11-17T18:53:00.000-07:00

Also, check the Salon article where this came from.

Strategic Thrusting for Defensive Purposes

2007-11-14T18:39:00.000-07:00

From the folks that brought you Total Information Awareness....

DARPA Strategic Thrusts--

Robust, secure, self-forming networks

Hooray! New social networking possibilites with my new uber-handheld. SETI at Starbucks, look at how green and techno-hip I am. Or, possibly...drop a bunch of security rovers onto a sector, let them all link up and find each other, and organize the most efficient patrol routes. Boy, bet you could equip those with all kinds of good stuff (all "non-lethal" of course).

Detection, Precision ID, Tracking, and Destruction of Elusive Targets

Does this one even really need a comment?

Urban Area Operations

Translation: Less war on the sea. Less in the sky. Less in the field. More in the city. Psst...that's where most people live or are being driven to.

Advanced Manned and Unmanned Systems

I'll be able to sleep while my autonomous hydrogen pleasuremobile ferries me to my job in the new 'service economy'. Neat. But the sky full of unmanned surveillance drones makes me sad (I think we should go back to talking about the pleasuremobile--I would fry bacon in mine--actually my Rhoombu [tler] (Rhoomba's parent company by this time has gone with a phonetic branding strategy, you see) will be doing it for me.)

Detection, Characterization, and Assessment of Underground Structures

Does this mean we get to find out what's in Iron Mountain OR does is just mean our Leaders will shortly be proclaiming "We're helping to keep America's basements Terrorist-Free"? My bad, I forgot. It's so we can find the Iranian nukes that are hidden away with Saddam's WMD.

Space

Ummmmmm.....just "Space".

Increasing tooth and tail ratio

From WSJ--

We speak of the tooth-to-tail ratio, though it usually makes more sense to talk about tail-to-tooth: How many men must there be behind the front doing unglamorous work to make it possible to put one man directly into combat? In some cases it's greater than 10 to 1.

Christ, a person could spend an entire day just on the WSJ article. Summary: War is going to increase in cost, as well as attendant size. Not to worry though. This is us "evolving" and is in no way directed.

Bio-Revolution

"Bio", having to do with living processes, and "revolution", a sudden, radical, or complete change. Why does DARPA have interest in funding things that will promote a sudden, radical, or complete change on the living processes in or around us? Well that one could certainly go in some wildly divergent directions.....

Core Technologies

Encompass broad areas much, DARPA?

'Stategic Thrust' Me. We're so 'Strategically Thrusted'.

(I'm hearing "but DARPA gave us the Interwebs!" cries already. Remember, you are given a reason/explanation, and then there's the real reason/explanation.)

A Brief Glimpse

2007-11-14T18:19:00.001-07:00

Worth the time to read the entire thing. It helps to clear another smudge from the surface we're given. Keep cleaning the glass.

Metroactive Features | Robots

Part of the reason University of Texas at Austin computer scientist Benjamin Kuipers stopped taking military financing is that he's seen colleagues wind up in places they'd never imagined themselves.

"DARPA and ONR and other DOD agencies support quite a lot of research that I think is valuable and virtuous," he says. "However, there is a slippery slope that I have seen in the careers of a number of colleagues. You start work on a project that is completely fine. Then when renewal time comes, and you have students depending on you for support, your program officer says that they can continue to fund the same work, but now you need to phrase the proposal using an example in a military setting. Same research, but just use different language to talk about it. OK. Then when the time comes for the next renewal, the pure research money is running a bit low, but they can still support your lab if you can work on some applications that are really needed by the military application. OK. ... Then for the next round, you need to make regular visits to the military commanders, convincing them that your innovation will really help them in the field. And so on. By the end of a decade or two, you have become a different person from the one you were previously. You look back on your younger self, shake your head, and think, 'How naive.'"

Coming Soon (Updated)

2007-11-13T15:05:00.000-07:00

Georgia to lift State of Emergency--

“I am authorised to declare on behalf of the Georgian government that emergency rule will be lifted on November 16 on all the country’s territory,” Burjanadze told a news briefing.

[...]

Burjanadze’s spokeswoman said later that although the emergency rule would be lifted on Nov. 16, the restrictions -- including bans on public meetings and independent media -- would be lifted a day later.

Seeing those "state of the art" gas masks made me think of this:

And this:

Perhaps there's something to that concept of predictive programming after all....

Internal Editor is Loud

2007-11-07T15:31:00.000-07:00

I tried taking to heart the sage advice of Garth. Honestly, I did. The painful process of typing out this post has me thinking specifically of this:

If you pay the Internal Editor any attention you are almost guaranteeing that you are going to self-combust before you hit 10,000 words.

Indeed, it is so very true. My story goes something along the lines of me banging out 1500-2500 word chunks that were completely disparate, relating in only the loosest of ways. Goddamn depressing, but swallowing my bitter pill will at least allow me to return focus to a previous project. Hell, my starting on NaNo was more likely only an excuse to stop plugging away at that to begin with.

(It's here that all I can think about is Homer eating flowers...."Oh! My secret shame!")

Consider me self-combusted, at least for now. It is with no small amount of shame that I must remove my participant banner.

It Has Begun

2007-10-31T15:30:00.001-06:00

I find it completely impossible to think of anything but Mortal Kombat when I look at that title.

Indeed, it has begun. NaNoWriMo-the masochist ritual practiced by thousands.

Join me. You know you want to.

I skipped last year for a variety of reasons, none of which are worth going on about here. I achieved the goal of 50K the year before that, but did not finish the project, which I may or may not still have due to a fit of self-loathing that caused me to delete the work (or, what I'm hoping was just one of many copies scattered about, but I'm too afraid to look. If it is truly gone I'll have to beat myself up, perhaps literally this time.)

The idea has finally begun to take some real shape, but any attempts to make me genre-ize it will be met with swift and terrible rebuttal. Trying to make me give it a label and fit in a pen....how dare you, sir!

Excerpt to come shortly. I'm excited about this one.

(and seriously, join me. The more to people to act as whips, the better)

Absolute Poker breach

2007-10-20T13:01:00.001-06:00

This has probably already made the rounds, but hell, just in case.

This is, after all, a poker blog.

Heh.

'Geek’ blamed for online poker cheating - Security - MSNBC.com

“(He) can see the cards, and you can put my name on that,” said Roy Cooke, who was head of security at the pioneering poker site Planetpoker.com for six years.

“When people are doing things out of character and consistently doing it right, there’s a reason for it,” he said. “When they’re always playing the hand that has value in a situation and then folding a great hand when it has value, they can see the cards.”

My Special Powers

2007-10-19T11:34:00.000-06:00

It's true. It must be.

At elevation 4800 with winter approaching we've been getting "weather". However, it tends to come in fits and starts. Some rain here, a cold wind there, then out comes the sun--for 6 minutes, and then we begin again.

Finally I decided to open my pie hole and hold forth about the weather conditions and how it would be nice if they were a little more consistent. "If it's gonna rain, I wish it would just rain" was the exact comment, I believe.

Evidently, Jesus heard me and gave a call to Shiva the Destroyer. The wheels of the deity-sponsored I-Didn't-Realize-I-Made-A-Wish Foundation turned quickly and beginning with snow yesterday morning, it has been precipitating in one form or another (mostly cold rain, hard and fast) for the last 36 hours straight.

(Hard and fast. I just made myself ~~giggle~~ laugh. I am ridiculously juvenile.)

There is another theory, however, given that the above just doesn't hold water* (and apparently, neither does the yard, anymore). Much more plausible is the theory that I may have as yet undiscovered special powers--specifically powers of calling forth things from the sky. Nothing so fancy as Elijah calling down fire from the heavens to devour the Ba'al worshipers, but still, potentially impressive.

*Because Shiva isn't real. Unlike the Lord of Hosts, you filthy pagan.

The only thing left to do is find out where the connection lies between my comments and the spicy pork dish of two days ago which led to a never before seen poo dance, which I think may have been an ancient and (up to now) long forgotten Precipitation Dance of some sort.

If it starts raining bacon next week, you'll know I figured it out.

You'll also know who to thank.

(this post has been brought to you by the twins boredom and frustration, aka politics and ActionScript)

Compliance

2007-10-12T17:48:00.000-06:00

The ground hurts my feet.
These new shoes be sweet.
Just until I can get to my seat.
People bleat. Time to eat.

Everyone must Pay
We’re on the way.
Is my show on today?
People bleat. And then they pray.

What’s on your iPod?
Can’t hear you. Smile and nod.
It can’t be fraud. Feet, ears, and eyes are shod.
People bleat. It must be God.

Credible knowledge floods print.
A handy brain stint.
Arriving places. Where we went?
People bleat. They’re being sent.

Shepherds watch the flock at night.
Waging the War on Fright.
But the accommodations are tight.
People bleat. And say goodnight.

Going places hurts the pockets.
Look, he’s got a private rocket.
Don’t even get me started on the sockets.
People bleat. They won’t stop it.

Who will be bought when all are sold.
Where’s the gold?
Do what you’re told.
People bleat. Few are bold.

More Loss is More Gain.
Use this! to get that stain.
Diagnosis, insane.
People bleat. Ignore the pain.

Sick in the heart.
Don’t upset the cart.
Pay attention to the chart.
People bleat. Don’t get smart.

The Dulling of the Sheen.
It’s your fault. Live Green.
Check out the new brand, it’s Tween.
People bleat. End scene.

Mislead. Not a lie.
The anti-drug gets us high.
Don’t be pessimistic. Don’t cry.
People bleat. Then they die.

It's a girl! Boo Hiss

2007-10-09T17:16:00.000-06:00

Kidding, kidding.

Except for the "It's a girl" part. I'm so screwed (not kidding).

There was a flash of disappointment when the technician blurted out the verdict. The velvet shell of my hopes that a massive package would blot out all else on the sonogram machine were crushed by tiny white lines and then dashed to pieces on estrogen shoals.

I may be overstating a bit.

The disappointment tried to keep speaking. "Now you won't be able to do all of those cool things that Dads are supposed to do--like tossing around the old pigskin, fighting, finding the best deal on a quality hooker, gambling, and/or being awesome in general. You know, GUY STUFF.

[insert sound of vinyl coming to a screeching halt, ala anti-drug PSA--Just Say NO, kids] What!?

Disappointment is an idiot. I never "toss pigskins" (unless, of course, I'm in the mood to embarrass myself).

As for as the other stuff....

Having a girl that can fight may be even cooler. They'll never see her coming. I won't have to threaten and intimidate prospective young men, I'll just have to make sure she's well versed in eye-gouging, tearing out thoraxes and hearts with a mighty Eagles Claw*, and testicular maiming. But I think I will go ahead with the threats, intimidation, and outright violence of my own, just because it will be a good stress reliever**.

*We'll likely start with the Wu-Tang style. Because it ain't nuttin' ta fuck with.

**Tip of the hat to BG for the naming suggestion, "Abstinence Bildergerg"--Awesome

Finding quality hookers? Ummm, Nein. If hookers get anywhere into this mix it will mean that something has gone horribly awry.

Gambling? She will terrorize poker tables, that felted land where the thoughtful and tenacious female can clean house. Thoughtful and tenacious are obviously the key things here and would apply to either sex, but more so when applied to the fairer of the two, I think.

Being Awesome, in general. I don't see that this will be too difficult. The likelihood that I'll be declaring it constantly is pretty high. At least, it will be up until the screaming and crapping everywhere begins its downward pressure on the sanity of the household (which happens pretty quickly, I hear) .

Things are as they should be, I figure. After all, I don't so much toss around pigskins. I cook and clean and hell, who am I kidding? I'm a walking talking Home Ec. class (do schools still have that? I doubt it, you know, now that sexism has been eliminated along with racism and the great many other -isms we are now At War with). There's not a damn thing wrong with knowing the importance of a good crease and why 'I Can't Believe It's Not Butter' should be met at all times with scorn and derision.

It's not what I desired, to be sure. Even so, being informed that she is healthy, with ten fingers and ten toes, I'm sure that it will be all I could ever want.

(Yes, I know. And then some.)

(Also, for the record: When I paint a beard on the baby, it does not mean that I am pining for a boy and am unable to get over it. It's because drawing beards on babies is fun and awesome, in general.)

Naming the Canteloupe

2007-10-03T19:59:00.000-06:00

Four more days and, assuming the child is not feeling modest on Monday, the girl/boy question will be answered. Following this, Naming ~~Talks~~ Negotiations will begin in earnest. There's been some trouble settling on any serious contenders.

I blame celebrities and other various idiots.

It's the naming incompetence of these nimrods that keeps me tied down. I can't stop talking about potential names I would never actually bestow. Like an idea I had a while back....

"Hey, let's name the kid Tupac."
"Because you're black?"
"Yeah. And the middle name should rhyme."
"........."
"How about Tupac The Rock?"
"That's awful, we can't do that."
"You're right, but consider that if we did, every time the child poops (shits? defacates? makes messies?) we can inquire of anyone present, "Can you smell what The Rock is cookin'?"
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"I suppose."

I'm pretty sure it would be the most incredibly awesome thing done with a baby-as-comic-prop to date. Even though it is an awesome name, there are some practical reasons that it's just not realistic. I mean, once the child is potty-trained (see: stops shitting itself without regard to location or company), when will you get to ask The Question? Or, will it just transition over to smelly farts? Or, once the child is potty-trained, is it time for it to learn to actually cook?

Decisions, decisions.

Putting that idea on the backburner, there's always The Paltrow Method to consider. The Paltrow Method consists of the following:

Step 1: Look at fruit.
Step 2: Point at fruit.
Step 3: Name the baby.

I tried a few practice runs, but this is also on the backburner due to a niggling question about the use of a blindfold. I've emailed for clarification but have thus far received no response. I think that it might be good to add a pre-Method step bringing in the blindfold for those who may be intrigued by the idea of faith-based naming.

(regardless, leave your brain in the other room for this one. Assuming you carry it around on a regular basis, that is)

There is the similar technique involving the kitchen (the location where I assume most people put their fruit. If you are one who happens to keep fruit in, say, the bedroom, or, in the couch, well....that's just odd.). It's difficult to say whether or not this one is more widely used, given the inherent complication with the requirement of more steps (again, I believe a blindfold is optional here).

Step 1: Open kitchen cupboard.
Step 2: Point to random food or product masquerading as such.
Step 3: Read aloud and slightly change pronunciation and/or spelling.
Step 4: Name the baby

Cocoa Krisp, anyone? Lemongello? Orangello?

Yes, you read that correctly--Lemon Jello and Orange Jello. The knowledge that none of these are fictional is enough to inspire some extended weeping. That, and the fact that the entire thing is at least 25% more complicated.....

How about The Scattergories Method? Write down any store names, occupations, brand names (that aren't already store names), general products, literary and/or television characters (preferably of the sci-fi or fantasy genre), American Gladiators, saints, or emotional designations you can think of in the space of two minutes on small separate pieces of paper. Put the pieces of paper in a closed container, and if you have one of those rotating basket thingies they use at car dealerships and casinos for prize drawings (after you view a sales presentation, of course), so much the better (some people keep these with their fruit, I hear). To complete preparations, throw in a heaping handful of scrabble tiles.

(also, it bears repeating that a blindfold is again optional, but doesn't really seem to serve much more of a purpose than to make things more difficult. Each to his own, though. As an extra BONUS optional step, some may find it advisable to add pieces of garlic with the Scrabble tiles to ensure no conniving evil spirits are present in the naming process. Imagine if the following happened--You could black out and suddenly wake up holding birth certificate that reads "Pilot Inspektor". Hey, waituminute....damn you mischievous ethereal souls!)

Now, simply reach into the bag and pull out one piece of paper, which will be the first name. The middle name will be the second piece of paper. If you or your family likes to have between three and seven names preceding the last name, by all means, just keep pulling paper till you get there. Now, pull out a scrabble tile. This is the letter that must be substituted for another letter at least twice in 50% of the names pulled.

After working out satisfactory substitutions and pronunciations, partners will punch each other in the face, thus concluding the ritual and naming the baby.

How about Glass (pronounced "glaze") Baesyl (which is delicious).

See? It's a sickness. I can't stop.

2007 WBCOP

2007-10-02T14:24:00.000-06:00

They built it, so I am coming.

I have registered to play in the PokerStars World Blogger Championship of Online Poker!

This Online Poker Tournament is a No Limit Texas Holdem event exclusive to Bloggers.

Registration code: 7447334

The Meaning of 397-16

2007-09-25T17:22:00.000-06:00

No, it's not my DHS suspect ID. You laugh. Don't forget, there's a better than even chance that you have one too. Of course, it may be inadvertent.

No, it's the count as Congress passed their newest resolution in what is really shaping up to be quite an amazing track record of ignorance and corruption. Amazing isn't the best word for it though. Awe-inspiring may be better.

From AP--

WASHINGTON (AP) - Congress signaled its disapproval of Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad with a vote Tuesday to tighten sanctions against his government and a call to designate his army a terrorist group.
The swift rebuke was a rare display of bipartisan cooperation in a Congress bitterly divided on the Iraq war. It reflected lawmakers' long-standing nervousness about Tehran's intentions in the region, particularly toward Israel—a sentiment fueled by the pro-Israeli lobby whose influence reaches across party lines in Congress.
"Iran faces a choice between a very big carrot and a very sharp stick," said Rep. Tom Lantos, chairman of the House Foreign Affairs Committee. "It is my hope that they will take the carrot. But today, we are putting the stick in place."
The House passed, by a 397-16 vote, a proposal by Lantos, D-Calif., aimed at blocking foreign investment in Iran, in particular its lucrative energy sector. The bill would specifically bar the president from waiving U.S. sanctions. [MORE]

This means that, doing the math, 96% of House members have their heads firmly planted in their asses (long story short). No wonder their job approval is hovering around 11%. That's 397 highly-paid morons who think that Ahmadinejad (representing all Iranians, of course) said that Israel should be "wiped off the map" when nothing could be further from the truth and that somehow a Shiite-dominated state is supporting the Wahabbist Al-Quaeda (who, in the real world, is the CIA's baby) and presents a graaaave threat to the region. Never mind the fact that not only have they not achieved nuclear power yet and are nowhere truly near the infinitely more difficult Nuclear Weapons Program. To 397 of them, the two things are evidently the same.

And then there's the icing on the cake, the cherry on the sundae, as it were. They're resolved to declare the armed force of another nation a terrorist organization. 397 of them have decided to neatly ignore the fact that the US is openly sponsoring terrorist organizations such as MEK to "destabilize the regime", which is simply lawyer-ese for "random bombings that kill innocent people and cause general mayhem". Doesn't this also make us a "state sponsor of terror"? Imagine the outrage that would run through our truth-filled media were such a thing to be uttered. Of course, such things must happen in order to lay the foundation for justification in using our "very sharp stick", also known as shock and awe and/or nukes of our own, as is called for by all manner hawks both on the left and the right and is part of the plan to take us down the path to oblivion, aka Secure Globalization.

But he denied the Holocaust! (Holocaust revisionist, but whatever, right?)

So. Fucking. What.

That does not mean that Ahmadinejad wants to harness Persian hordes and go Jew-slaughtering, nor does it mean that such things are true of the Iranian people. Above all things, it is certainly no justification for the use of carpet-bombing and nukes, "tactical" or otherwise, in the killing of ridiculous numbers of people.

Also, lest we forget, Israel is not exactly sitting naked on a stool out in the desert. They've got a few *smirk* elite forces of their own along with a very healthy stockpile of their own nuclear weapons. Oh, I'm sorry, we're not supposed to talk about that. Well, since I bumbled that, I may as well bumble some more and mention The Sampson Option for anyone beyond the 397 still unaware.

All of these things, still only scratching the surface of the true state of affairs.... and still the herd of cheapjacks and buffoons press forward. The meaning of 397-16 is quite clear.

Americans are going to get some more war. Perhaps a few more will wake the fuck up before it arrives. Unfortunately, if this small sampling of Austin residents is any indication, things aren't looking too good......

Bertrand Russell Excerpt

2007-09-21T16:56:00.001-06:00

I just got my copy of the internationalist/globalist (Lord and Fellow of the Royal Society, among many other things.) Bertrand Russell's The Impact of Science on Society (1953, in excellent condition--one thing that was very cool was that the book still had the original receipt lying in the pages. It cost $1.04.). Since ridding our backs of the television monkey a great majority of my time, naturally, is spent reading.

So, I thought I'd begin sharing bits and pieces (and perhaps some accompanying thoughts) as I seem to be unable to blog effectively about the usual inane shit. Every time I try, all I can think about is how the time would be better spent. Thoughts that are only natural, I suppose, after realizing that you've spent much or all of your life wasting time and being compelled from all sides to engage in more of the same.

Within this large majority of time newly spent, I've been dwelling a great deal on this child that draws ever closer and the attendant slew of questions to be pondered and decisions to be made. It is perpetually sobering.

Here is the excerpt that caught my eye a few nights ago, in Chapter 1, Effects of Scientific Technique (all emphasis mine)--

"Physiology and psychology afford fields for scientific technique which still await development. Two great men, Pavlov and Freud, have laid the foundation. I do not accept the view that they are in any essential conflict, but what structure will be built on their foundation is still in doubt.

I think the subject which will be of most importance politically is mass psychology. Mass psychology is, scientifically speaking, not a very advanced study, and so far its professors have not been in universities: they have been advertisers, politicians, and, above all, dictators. This study is immensely useful to practical men, whether they wish to become rich or to acquire government. It is, of course, as a science founded upon individual psychology, but hitherto it has employed rule-of-thumb methods which were based on a kind of intuitive common sense. It's importance has been enormously increased by the growth of modern methods of propaganda. Of these, the most influential is what is called "education." Religion plays a part, though a diminishing one; the press, the cinema, and the radio play an increasing part.

What is essential in mass psychology is the art of persuasion. If you compare a speech of Hitler's with a speech of (say) Edmund Burke, you will see what strides have been made in the art since the eighteenth century. What went wrong formerly was that people had read in books that man is a rational animal, and framed their arguments on this hypothesis. We now know that limelight and a brass band do more to persuade than can be done by the most elegant train of syllogisms. It may be hoped that in time anybody will be able to persuade anyone of anything if he can catch the patient young and is provided by the State with money and equipment."

Remember, this was published in 1953. Go ahead, I'll wait while you read through it again. (Also, if one is so inclined, more can be learned about Bertrand Russell and just who he was through many of Alan Watt's podcasts).

The last highlighted section is of particular importance. Speaking of a brass bands and limelight being more effective than rationality, he "hopes" that the young can be caught and that the State will provide the money and equipment to persuade them of "anything". It gives a great window into the thinking of this man. Excepting a higher "class" of men, brought about by science or otherwise, the person that speaks in this manner views men as animals and advocates (to greater or lesser, but always some degree) their manipulation as such. The possibility is not even brought up (at least, thus far in my reading) that perhaps this propaganda in which so many of his "hopes" lie serves to further and further suppress the "rational" man. In his praising of Pavlov, it doesn't seem to dawn on his Lordship for even a moment that, while man may be animalistic at his base, he has the potential and opportunity to be otherwise, unless he doesn't, due in large part to ceaseless, all-encompassing, and ever more effective propaganda techniques coupled with high technology.

In his adherence to Darwinistic principles, he advocates the manipulation of man, "hopefully" through the influential tool of "education. " There is little humanity present in this underlying theme. Indeed some men, a great many in fact, may not be rational and may never be. But the fact that a great many more could be or would be is never discussed nor is it necessarily a worthy goal in circles of men like these.

One of my larger considerations of late has been education. My own lack of it ("it" being real education/knowledge that promotes true understanding, as opposed to being trained to follow instructions), and what it will be for the child. It should require little more than a cursory look at the state of education (and just as well to be said here, Education by the State), both its past and its present, to make any parent immediately loathe the idea of sending their child to a public school. And it may be to a slightly lesser extent, but the same goes with private schooling, as well, particularly a great many of the "Christian" schools who, like the state, blanch at the idea of teaching a child to think and rather expend all efforts teaching them to conform.

Which inevitably leads to more crucial questions. Namely, will I be able to make the unpleasant choices and deal with the inevitable consequences (which are surely becoming more dire in this system) of choosing a different direction than that laid out by the "experts" who now do all of that for us? It's not a question of desire or willingness anymore--that has been considered and the choice has been made. Rather, the question has become, will I be able to actually DO IT, not in terms of intellectual capability, but in dealing with the practicalities and externalities that will surely be brought to bear sooner or later given our seemingly unmovable societal course.

Such considerations may seem on the surface to be depressing, but further reflection gives cause for hopefulness and opportunity. I think anyone would be hard pressed to find a parent who does not wish for their child a better life than they had. Unfortunately, through all of the "education", this tends (more often than not) to mean "better" in the context of material wealth, the beginning and end of our current existence. There lies the hope and the opportunity that, saved from such wretched indoctrination, there might develop a person with real humanity and real knowledge. One who is not raised as an animal to be taught the prevailing tricks of the day, but someone who is enough of a thinking individual to know what "a better life" truly means and create it for their self.

Such a course is the only option, really. The alternative is a horror show, where they will be told what to do and they will do it because they know nothing else (just like their parents) They will be told that their life is better and they will believe it, simply because they have been told. Just like animals.

Purgatory involving a chair.

2007-09-19T15:56:00.000-06:00

That post title seems infinitely more appropriate for something else. An obscene art piece, perhaps.

Today caught me noticing in a big way that I seemed to have developed an annoying habit. More accurately stated, that would be another annoying habit, as I'm sure the list is longer than I would be comfortable being consciously aware of. I'm aware of the farting around the house issue, the unintentional scratching/adjustment of "equipment" in public, being easily and disproportionately annoyed by a lot of little things, but beyond that I don't look too hard. It might have the consequence of making me paranoid--god forbid.

After finishing some daily sort-of-required pseudo-job related activities, I decided to make the commitment to not move from this chair (save for bladder or nicotine-related issues) until I wrote something, anything.

Goddamnit, the neighbor kids just rang the doorbell. This means that the retard terriers we so foolishly purchased 4 and 5 years ago, respectively, begin going apeshit, which completely fucks my line of thought. Nothing works in shutting them up. Coercion, beatings, begging, none of it. We've largely given up, on the conclusion that learning to sit and lay down took up what little brainspace was available and there's just none left to be had for things like Remembering Who People Are or Realizing That Small Children Are Not Vampires From Space Here To Assasinate You.

Okay, they're gone. Back to the business at hand. The Work.

With the internal commitment made, I set to work about my duties confident that whatever it was I would write would come to me after spending some time in the waters of what is largely mindless work. Or perhaps something would come to me while I was trying to wade through the ridiculous pile of shit that's touted as news to find something at least resembling the remotely relevant while trying to search and better fill the gaps I'm ever painfully aware of in my knowledge of various subjects. Still nothing

Here's the newest annoyance: I'd guess that largely due my being painfully aware of just how much I still don't know well, over the last four months or so I've been trying to read and listen to certain podcasts (Alan Watt's podcast being the most prevalent) while trying to engage in meaningful reading. Thing is, this isn't just mindless music, this stuff. It requires thought--something not effectively done while trying to read and think about other things at the same time. So here's how that's been going. Read, listen, read, ohwaitwhatdidhejustsay, rewind, listen, read, ad infinitum.

After realizing I wanted to punch myself in the face, it dawned.

When you start annoying yourself, time to reevaluate. Trying to cram everything in left little to gain entrance and take up permanent residence. The available space is large but the way in, evidently, isn't ready to accommodate hydrant-drinking, as it were, so I guess I'll stop doing that.

I'm also going to stop sitting in this chair because, quite frankly, my ass hurts.

(What can I say. It's something, anything.)

Annoyed House on the Barely Connected Prairie

2007-09-13T13:43:00.000-06:00

Five weeks. It seems that a much greater amount of time has passed since the move, and the realization that it hasn't been is an exceedingly strange but certainly not unexplainable state of affairs. Regardless, it's high time some hands were put to keyboard in the pursuit of something, anything.

Funny, we moved from a place where you felt like you were on fire all of the time to a place that is actually on fire. Everywhere. While there have been a fair amount of clear days up here in the mountains, most of them are permeated with a nice smoky wildfire haze and the smell to go with it. Imagine going through the day with your nose telling you, "Hey, BBQ....oh, wait". Truthfully, it doesn't smell very much like BBQ at all, but try telling my nose that. Like a dogged Republican or Democrat adherent, it lives its life in a constant state of denial--I'm hoping it will come around eventually.

And further on the subject of BBQ, I haven't been able to yet. Building any sort of fire is strictly verboten (for good reason, of course) which is causing my ribeye gland no small amount of stress and has me searching the Interwebs high and low for any sort of arcane Indian snow dance to dampen everything enough so that I might feast in a manner befitting less civilized folk. Of course, relieving my rib-eye gland will only transfer the pain to my pocketbook gland.....a subject for more in-depth pissing and moaning at a later time, I suppose.

Lest you feel too sorry for me and compelled to send me large crates of aged meats (and feel free), I should let everyone know that I've been consuming large quantities of bacon and should pull through till the fire ban is lifted.

Moving on....

Let's talk about my brand spankin' new Interwebs connection. See, I was going to put a post up late last week after spending some time catching up on all of the news I missed (I wouldn't exactly say I was missing it after hearing from the in-laws that the administration, in their infinite wisdom, is declaring the armed forces of another sovereign nation a terrorist organization--again, more on that in upcoming posts). However, post-telco shenanigans, the rude reality that my connection is a "screaming" 1 Mbps (I was informed I would get 3 Mbps--the salesperson was a dirty liar. Shocking, I know.) led to slightly extended pout which brings us to the present where I have finally made the requisite mental adjustments and realized "What the hell did I expect given the remote location?"

So here's a snippet of the conversation with "tech support" in my efforts to confirm that 1 Mbps was the maximum speed I could have provisioned.....

HH: The tech just told me that 1Mbps was the max I could get out here. The salesperson said I had "DSL Max" (a moniker that should lead to, at the very least, the firing, if not outright execution of the whizbang marketeer who decided that would be a good term to use) which was 3 Mbps. Which is it? Is my provisioning wrong?

Customer Service "Expert": Ummmmm.......can you hold?

[4 minutes of Christina Aguilera. Again, add the person who thought that was a good idea to the list of people to be fired and/or shot]

CSE: Thanks for holding, sir. It looks like 1 Mbps is the max you can get out there.

HH: Really. So, the salesperson was either stupid or lying? Is that what I'm hearing?

CSE: Well, no--

HH: Oh, I'm sorry, misinformed or unintentionally misled me...

CSE: Umm, I'm not really sure. If you want more speed you could look into upgrading to our Business Class...

HH: Why would I do that? Didn't you just tell me that 1 Mbps is the max I can get here?

CSE: Huh?

HH: You just told me that 1Mbps is the max I can get. Now your telling me that I need to upgrade to Business Class for more speed. Which is it? What are you trying to tell me? I'm at my max, unless I fork over more money?

CSE: Well, 1Mbps is the max you can get out there-

HH: Then why did you bring up this Business Class business?

CSE: Huh?

HH: ***sigh*** Just answer me this last question. Do you have any access to anything, a prespective schedule, anything, that might give some indication if or when my area may be provisioned in the future for more bandwidth? (Internal: Say "huh?" one more time motherfucker. I dare you. I double dare you....They speak English in "Huh?"?)

CSE: Can you hold again?

[more Christina]

And that's where I hung up-lest I scream at the illiterate and damage his self-image.

Perhaps being barely connected is still too connected.

The Heads Have Landed

2007-08-13T21:30:00.000-06:00

Indeed we have arrived at the next stop on what seems to be the thus far never-ending nomadic tour.

Trying to settle things in the midst of ridiculous disarray, but the sense of peace from the relocation is palpable having finally escaped the cesspool that is Phoenix. Access to teh Interwebs is a bit problematic for now given our remote location, but that should be solved in the next week, or if we're lucky, less than that (NOTE: Lucky has never been a descriptor when it comes to my acquiring needed services).

Being so forcibly disconnected (albeit temporarily) up in the mountains is a good thing, though, and not as tough as all that. After not being able to keep current with any of the goings on in the world for the last couple of weeks, it begins to come to the fore that while keeping up, if you're not careful, you can end up missing a lot.

And so much for all that. We're headed back to the mountains tomorrow to continue enjoying the silence. I haven't heard a single helicopter in at least three days--life is good.

Exhale, baby

2007-07-27T15:05:00.001-06:00

The light has reached the end of the tunnel, guess what was there?

More fucking tunnel.

Escrow closed, recorded, and funded. By the hair of our chinny chin chins....the albatross is gone.

Escape from Phoenix (aka Get Me Out of This Fucking City, aka Breaking Free From Satan's Asshole) has now reached critical mass and is moving inexorably forward.

Holy fuckme, what load off.

More later, I'm beat all to hell from the last two days of nerves and moving to temp digs....

Indeed.

2007-07-17T17:11:00.000-06:00

Flight of the Conchords Rap

2007-07-09T13:10:00.000-06:00

I'm loathe in principle to helping HBO for various reasons, but this gets an exception.

Enjoy.

New Book Dump

2007-07-09T00:15:00.000-06:00

It's been a bit since the last book dump, so here's the latest (which is about a month old now) for anyone interested.

Party over here.

David Rockefeller, Memoirs

Zbigniew Brzezinski, The Grand Chessboard: American Primacy and Its Geostrategic Imperatives

Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in America : The Brutal Odyssey of an Outlaw Journalist

Milton Mayer, They Thought They Were Free: The Germans, 1933-45

Greg Palast, Armed Madhouse: From Baghdad to New Orleans--Sordid Secrets and Strange Tales of a White House Gone Wild

I'm digging this HST selection, as it is a collection of his personal correspondence. Wicked good reading, providing a glimpse of the man that is very worthwhile. Brzezinski and Mayer are my main thrusts right now, and I'm picking up the Palast when lighter fare is needed.

Christ, I still need to get Glenn Greenwald's book ordered.....perhaps on the next purchasing round. I had planned to pick it up on pre-order but I need to finish this current round before I can stock up on more (that, and the fact that I really need to erect some proper bookshelves at this point).

Good stuff is happening, details to follow as things pans out over the next couple of weeks.

Sudden, unexpected, and altogether strange.

2007-06-30T17:09:00.000-06:00

“Hey, you wanna come down here and beat off into a cup?”

An odd question, to be sure, especially piped in over the telephone line at 2PM on a Tuesday afternoon. It was my friend, M, who worked for a fertility clinic. At first glance it would seem like a perfectly reasonable question given the source…nope, still weird.

“Come again?” I asked.

“That’s what she said. [snicker] Oh man, that never gets old. Seriously, are you busy?”

“You really want me to just jump in the car, head up to where you work, and beat off into a cup? Do I at least get some porn?”

“I don’t think we have any. You can’t do it without porn?”

“What am I, 14?”

I might be able to round some up for you, but it’s a long shot. Remember where you are….?

“Boise. Fucking mormons.”

“Right-o. So can you?”

“Why? You haven’t even told me why.”

“We’re training one of the nurses here and we’re out of practice samples. C’mon, you’ll get tested for free. It’s actually a pretty expensive test, it might come in handy.”

“I have always wanted to contribute to medicine….”

I hung up the phone without stating outright that, upon brief reflection, I would have done it if for no other reason than it’s not often that one has the opportunity to abuse oneself with official sanction. It was almost as if the benevolent faces of the AMA board up on their cloud were looking at me, nodding, all placid and benevolent-like.

And with that, I took off towards the clinic ready to dash several million little soldiers against a cruel plastic wall in the name of progress. Not that the issues surrounding the biblical and serious “spilling of seed” was a big one for me, it just happened to cross my mind while driving. After all, to say I hadn’t launched similar initiatives for progress in strategic locations all over my apartment would be a dirty lie.

Twenty minutes later I was back home on the couch. Indeed, I have never been one to lollygag in the pursuit of official business. I was especially proud that the job had been completed successfully in spite of the complete absence of porn and/or what polite society might call “manual assistance.” Surely this was a testament to the veracity and effectiveness of previous military training. We’ve done so much with so little for so long we can now do everything with nothing….

The phone woke me from dreams where I was populating wide swaths of earth. It was M with the test results. It was only now that the question crossed my mind. Blanks? Empty Goop? Lazy soldiers? Oh boy….

“Well, my friend, looks as though you’ve got another bullet point for your resume. You’re in the top 5% in terms of, well, everything. Count, motility…If I sound a little amazed, it’s because I kind of am. We don’t see this type of thing too often.”

“SWEET”

“Okay then, I gotta go. Be careful out there…seriously.”

Most would just laugh but I knew this was a serious admonition. We were, after all, in Boise. Which is in Idaho. Which means that if you have a boner and sneeze at the same time while too close to an indigenous female you’re going to end up with a shotgun wedding and a career path of cosmetology and/or construction. There’s a reason some of these guys end up with 17 wives….

Bullet points, indeed.

********

Armed with this knowledge, I and my lady have endeavored, lo these many years, to observe a stringent Reproductive Security Plan. Many fences and barriers, both physical and chemical, have been erected and maintained—I’m sure there’s some kind of mocking diatribe having to do with right-wing nuttery and The Global War Against Islamofundist Terror in there somewhere, but now is not the time, other than to say that the news I received yesterday serves only to further reinforce the fact that there is no such thing as Total Security.

Which has little to do with anything, really, but stay with me and I’m sure I can reign in this train wreck and bring us all safely to the point. Which is, that, well….my friend M seems to have not known or simply forgot to tell me what the real results were from that long ago test.

My sperm is evidently weaponized.

“Area effect” was not taken into account.

Pregnancy has manifested. Little Head has slogged the Fallopian Trail and will be taking a well-deserved rest (8 mos, or so).

Chaos and all things strange are expected from here on out.

Here is a very rough draft of what the kid's first t-shirt may look like:

Mac vs. PC Rap=Fantastic

2007-06-26T18:01:00.000-06:00

Could have been cut by 1/3 and been just as good, but that's nitpicking.

Enjoy.

Brown Trouts on a Muthafuckin Plane!

2007-06-21T14:26:00.001-06:00

Way worse than snakes.

Airline apologizes for sewage on plane

"I've never felt so offended in all my life," passenger Collin Brock of Washington state told Seattle's KING-TV. "I felt like I had been physically abused and neglected. I was forced to sit next to human excrement for seven hours."

Still around

2007-06-15T09:36:00.000-06:00

..but what posting I've been doing has been over at Verbosities, so head there (or just make it easy and grab the feed).

There will be more quantity here shortly. So much to write about, but there is currently little time to put it in proper form.

Speaking commercially

2007-06-05T20:34:00.000-06:00

Time to ramble. Given the borderline insane comment I just left on Speaker's post, reflection tells me I obviously have something that probably ought to come out, lest it sets in begins to fester.

"That's a nice looking car"

We thought it and said it at about the same time. And this time, as with (or so it seems) most other times, these words are inevitably followed by, "Too bad it's a Chrysler." Knowing about "Chrysler Quality" means being doomed to looking around and being disappointed every time you get into traffic. Anyway, we were talking about the neighbor's girlfriend's apparent new car purchase.

"I always wonder why Nancy drives that minivan."
"What minivan? She drives an SUV."
"Well, it's more mini-van than SUV, I think"

The words lept out at me like a TV commercial and in fact sounded just like it when uttered. Obviously, there isn't really any other way to say that, it was just strange and got me to thinking about language. Something along the lines of it not being used as well as it should be, in general as well as personally.

The language of my work environment is eating away at my cerebrum like a cancer. It's dulling, and makes me feel like I'm becoming mute, because if I open my mouth to speak I may scream and never stop. New perspective isn't necessarily all it's cracked up to be sometimes. When transforming into something that is in many ways the opposite of everything around you, it is difficult not feeling completely strange some days.

Goddamn, I'm almost 31. Another year gone. Add on another day of......stuff, mostly miserable, expensive, annoying, and inconvenient STUFF. Treadmill activities, the stuff of beasts who can't or won't know any better. I despise the beast that speaks commercials and find that I desperately want to become something other than that.

Truthfully, I likely just simply need to cool down (Christ it's fucking hot) and get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day, or so they say. I certainly would like one of those, because they've all been looking like the same tired days I've lived already. It may be cliche to invoke HST righ now, but seriously, How long, o Lord, how long?

Thanks for reading this episode of My Early Mid-Life Crisis.

(Get me out of this fucking city)

The Landlord

2007-06-01T07:13:00.001-06:00

O god, it's funny.

Verbosities Material--5/31

2007-06-01T00:25:00.001-06:00

Tim Griffin off to Fred Thompson's greener pastures?

Governer Rick Perry heads to Bilderberg

If you can't see it, it doesn't exist.

A serious and sober account of Gitmo.

Ron Paul Interview--5/31

By their actions you'll know them

Thursday "Are you still awake?"/Friday "Good Morning!" Edition

Unbelievable, but true.

Technorati Tags: Verbosities content

HH Verbosity Posts for 5/25

2007-05-25T23:47:00.000-06:00

Bilderbergers. They have coffee. They talk. No big whoop.

Bash Obama: Round III