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April 30, 2013

 

“A hypocrite is the kind of politician who would cut down a redwood tree, then mount the stump and make a speech for conservation.” - Adlai E. Stevenson

 

Happy Tuesday!

Aloha.

 

April 29, 2013

 

“Conservation is a state of harmony between men and land.” - Aldo Leopold

 

Happy Monday!

Aloha.

 

April 26, 2013

 

“Every cent we earn from Crocodile Hunter goes straight back into conservation. Every single cent.” - Steve Irwin

 

Happy Friday!

Aloha.

 

*) Okay I might as well write because I can’t keep up with e-mails.

 

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*) I love the newly re-constructed freeway between Minneapolis to St. Paul. It’s as smooth as a baby’s bottom. I thank all of the people involved in that construction project. Thank you. Your work doesn’t go unnoticed. It’s just beautiful. Beautiful!

 

One thing: When lines are painted over can someone please have them done as professionally as possible. In rain it’s tough to decipher old road lines from newer ones. Can the older dotted lines be erased? I don’t know. Just a thought.

 

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*) I love the newly constructed T line (as the Bostonians call theirs, the “T”) “light rail” in St. Paul. It’s just beautiful. Beautiful! I thank all of the people involved in that construction project. Thank you. Your work doesn’t go unnoticed. (It doesn’t.) I keep a peeled eye to the skies for new progress all the time.

 

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*) Now, let’s rejuvenate “mom & pop shop” businesses along that T line of St. Paul.

 

Small loans for entrepreneurs!

 

Bankers need to have more confidence and faith in people’s long vision goals for a better economy and for the strong safety of their neighborhoods because our entrepreneurs live in the neighborhoods they work in and that’s a great sign of care, recovery and confidence in their neighborhoods plus it’s environmentally chic to walk to work. It’s time! Let’s get this giant up and on its feet of recovery.

 

St. Paul needs to put a litter plan in place. Please, I beg of you (not literally). Please. I could barely breathe looking around the streets of St. Paul with all its litter everywhere.

 

Let’s start by cleaning house.

 

Safety needs to be implemented for St. Paul pedestrians and for all people to walk around St. Paul comfortably without a worry about safety. I don’t feel safe in St. Paul pass 5pm. It’s a ghost town no matter how much you care to sell it to me. I know why it’s a ghost town. People tell me what I need to know.

 

No, St. Paul isn’t out of the woods yet from my sharp literary tongue, but we’ll start out with a handshake, first. Don’t ever improperly touch me, not that I’ve ever been improperly touched in St. Paul either however I know professional business women who have been improperly touched by their male clients and colleagues. Shame.

 

I’m simply extending out my hand for a handshake nothing more and nothing less. We don’t know each other St. Paul and I. Although I hear what I hear about St. Paul whether it’s good or corrupt.

 

I know what goes on in St. Paul with its prostitution rings of minors. Please. Let’s continue to take care of that as it’s just now beginning to do so through the judicial court system. Let’s continue to prosper even if you don’t know exactly what all of this means to The People.

 

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*) I thank the city of Robbinsdale for having the pride in keeping our city so clean, well maintained and safe.

 

Ever since the Rainbow grocery store closed down about a month ago, the north Minneapolis foot traffic stopped completely from coming through our streets and the neighborhood instantaneously went safe and quiet. Thank you. Less litter also by the hands of…

 

It’s so quiet, calm, safe and peaceful here at night. It’s a “sexy” adult place to live. The residents are peaceful, respectful, responsible and real Minnesotans. No one has their genitalia hanging out of their clothes. No one makes advances at strangers. Everyone minds their own business.

 

It’s the type of place in which it feels like Minnesotans of old like those of my grandfather’s generation who were gruff on the outside but held a heart of gold on the inside.

 

I’m beginning to fall in love with Robbinsdale as I am with the history of Northeast, Minneapolis. I’m grateful for the knowledge.

 

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*) I know that it’s illegal to skateboard downtown Robbinsdale but I just might early one morning before there’s much traffic just to get a real sense in layout of the downtown and its surrounding neighborhoods. I get to see more of the realities of neighborhoods when I skateboard. I get to slow down and look around. Thank you.

 

Please don’t send me to jail for skateboarding downtown Robbinsdale this summer 2014. I can’t seem to retire my skateboard. Sorry. I mean to, but it’s become an extension of my heart after all these years.

 

I’m an upstanding adult woman, taxpaying, land owner and not some punk.

 

I’m a bi-product of my generation. The sky’s the limit. Plus most skateboarders are sober politico well groomed adult punks (not literally punks) because we can’t skateboard, well, under the influence of alcohol or drugs unless we want a broken arm or a body bashing. We wear our helmets and keep a soberly sharp eye open and watch out for traffic and such. Thank you very much. I don’t think I’m special by any means. I simply like to feel as free as the American bald eagles.

 

I’m cosmopolitan chic.

I’m urban cool and relaxed.

It’s in my blood.

 

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*) A daily poem: three or four male physicians walk around our block at noon. They seem so loyal, relaxed and like they’re having a great time in the company of one another. It’s a beautiful thing to watch. Men who greatly respect and love each other. It’s definitely a poem for the ages. Thank you.

 

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*) I knew our taxes would be worth something when we bought one of our properties in Robbinsdale even though I was opposed to it at first because of its proximity to... Thank you. Let’s make our public schools better than they already are today. I hear a lot of horrible and wonderful things about Cooper High School and Armstrong High School.

 

I personally have no idea. I haven’t done much research about that subject matter yet.

 

I’d like for our future child to attend public school here in Robbinsdale but if it’s not academically and socially up to par by that time then we’re dreaming concrete dreams about our future child making daily flights into the Barnum public school system, and attending school amongst their hundreds of relatives and our extended in-laws and their neighbors who’ll keep a close and great watchful eye over our child during the school day while they attended school there. I’ve been informed that Barnum public school is no different than a private school. Alright.

 

I hear that Moose Lake High School is full of snobs so I’m staying clear of Moose Lake High. We don’t wear our net worth upon our sleeves so I don’t want our child to be brutalized or bullied just because they won’t be wearing the “right clothes or whatever the hell next shallow thing will be in style.

 

I know what goes on in Barnum, Kettle River and Moose Lake. It’s too bad there’s so much drug trafficking in Barnum in that trailer community and the surrounding rural communities with the brutal murders and drug trafficking in-and-out of the reservations.

 

I would’ve loved to have sent our future child to a reservation school amongst our Native Americans but our brothers and sisters can’t guarantee us that type of safety not even for their own children and women.

 

I’d love to freely come and go out of the reservations but that’s dangerous at the best of times. I always wanted to safely shop at reservations for local produce and quality made goods by the hands of our brothers and sisters. No, I don’t care to pay an arm and a leg for goods. Please. Know your value but don’t gouge the customer.

 

Yes, we’ve heard excellent things about Barnum High School (all Barnum schools) so we’re not taking it off of the negotiating table quite yet. We want our child to be as safe as possible at school during the day and it seems that Barnum’s schools are winning that safety and academic race.

 

If we have to weekly fly our child into the Costa Rican school system then we will, as an extreme example. I simply want our child to attend school amongst kind, respectful and responsible people / community who aren’t going to rip their heart out as the Arts High School did mine because of degenerate drug induced assholes and socially stupid lying bullies with delusions of grandeur who went around bashing anyone who disagreed with them.

 

I’d like to send our child to an excellent public school downtown Minneapolis but not a charter school. We work and shop downtown Minneapolis so it would be more convenient for our child to attend school downtown Minneapolis than anywhere else.

 

Daily helicopter rides to school could become a logistical nightmare, but I can always get my pilot’s license and helicopter our child to and from school. Don’t hate our future child because they’ll have parents who can turn dreams into logistical realities. Thank you.

 

I’ve been hearing nothing but stellar and incredible things about the Barnum school system. It’s one of the best in Minnesota and all of the Kindergartners receive the use of ipads. That’s a school system with their eye towards future progress. Each child in America ought to be equipped with an ipad because that’s what our taxes go towards.

 

No, we’re not pregnant. Not until I turn 39 or 40.

My body’s still healing from almost dying.

 

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*) I thank North Memorial Hospital for saving my life, that’s why we live here. In November of 2011 I had a 1.3-1.6 million dollar operation and the docs were complete experts in what they were doing to my body. North Memorial is as great as the Mayo Clinic and many of the Boston hospitals.

 

We live amongst more doctors per capita than anywhere else in the Twin Cities. We’re all middle income earners working together towards making a difference and contributing to real life realities of the world. I’m proud to call this city of Robbinsdale one of our homes amongst many.

 

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*) My personal boycott of the downtown farmers market is now over and complete.

 

I went almost two years without shopping there. It almost killed me. I missed it so much but I had to stand my ground because of how rude some vendors were to me as a woman of color. No, this isn’t a race card. It’s what it was.

 

I’m going to begin shopping at the downtown farmers market once more because I love shopping cosmopolitan style.

 

Please be kind to one another, make room for each other on the sidewalks and treat each other as respectful adults do all over the world. Watch out for the safety of all women.

 

I hate the panhandling and begging that goes on downtown Minneapolis but I’m also causing a quiet diplomatic ruckus amongst those in power about that particular subject matter. I do think that all forms of panhandling and begging ought to be illegal within the city limits (the entire state) because then our cities can prosper and become cosmopolitan chic not begging zest pools. Period.

 

I’m flying in; I’m not a “spic” so don’t treat me like one.

 

Yes, I’ve given up on overpriced organics because if the middle income earners can’t afford them then I have to boycott them until our venture capitalists figure out how to spread the wealth of produce-health amongst our civilian populations in our cities across the United States of America.

 

If you kill the middle income earners then you murder me as well.

 

Yes, I like to purchase local produce while in season wherever I am from organic farmers. No, not weird convoluted people. O-R-G-A-N-I-C F-A-R-M-E-R-S. I grew up with organic farmers as our personal close family friends from Wrenshall.

 

I love goat milk and especially the cheeses. Oh, goat cheese!

 

Yes, I hate hormones and pesticides in my foods especially with what Monsanto’s up to with their genetically processed monopoly. Yes, the Texan farmers are enraged about what’s been blowing into their organic and non-organic fields for about three seasons running. Oh, they’re furious as…

 

The Gentlemen are figuring that whole thing out. They attended Ivy League schools so they ought to have some constructive possibilities to this lopsided organic market of overpriced vegan and organic foods. Please, help our people stay in the middle income earning range while they afford to feed their families wonderful foods that’ll save future generations from horrible disease. Thank you. I carry you around in my heart. You know who you are.

 

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*) It’s a damn inconvenience to me: to boycott the downtown Minneapolis Target store for an entire year. I’ll return November 2013. Thank you. I (sometimes) shop at other Target stores but I won’t tell you which ones because they’re a well kept secret from “the element”.

 

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*) I love seeing the new “Lunds” grocery store downtown Minneapolis. I thank all of the people involved in that construction project. Thank you. Your work doesn’t go unnoticed. It’s just beautiful. Beautiful!

 

No, I haven’t shopped there yet but I’m simply grateful that downtown Minneapolis finally has a grocery store. I love running quick errands downtown so it’ll help cut down on my driving time. Thank you.

 

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*) I’ve fallen in love with Minneapolis “Byerly’s”. Thank you.

 

I like CUB foods quite a bit because the prices are just right for middle income earners; however the element likes to shop there, too.

 

The more we pay for groceries the more we pay for the safety to shop at these stores, more so than the food quality, although local does taste freshly picked right off the branch.

 

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*) No, history can’t be re-written. I won’t say anything bad about the Bush family because my friends are friends with them so I’ll hold my tongue however the history books are status quo in the overall consensus about broken power and injustice. More later.

 

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Please don’t hate upstanding Muslim Americans or you’re going to get my Sierra Leon adopted Muslim sister killed and then you’ll really rip out my heart. Ignorance isn’t bliss. Learn about Muslim Americans who are as patriotic as the founding fathers were.

 

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For those running as Somali Muslim politicians from Franklyn Avenue to Cedar / Riverside Avenue: A word to the wise: It’s not only ignorant and disrespectful to conduct political meetings with DFL resources spoken in only one language much less in any other language other than English.

 

This is America and you will conduct your political civil meetings in English or you seem like exclusionist haters of The People. The People don’t trust in that type of wayward politics, not in the long run, anyway.

 

No, it’s not acceptable to conduct American political meetings in Somali, French, Egyptian (Arabic), Spanish, Russian, Chinese unless it’s held in private settings and not in public arenas. If it’s open to the public then it’s conducted in English. Period.

 

It’s uncouth and unpatriotic and I’ll tell you why: How would the Somalis like a French or Spanish all speaking only candidate to run for political office and exclude all of their citizens? They wouldn’t. Not one bit.

 

Oh, I’m aware of the Cedar / Riverside Muslim community (I used to work over there) but you’re not the only ones in that neighborhood, are you now? Nope.

 

Plus, the Somali females are some of the worse drivers, many driving without licenses and endangering entire surrounding communities like Uptown, don’t sell me hypocrisy. Allah doesn’t allow for it.

 

What’s with the Somali community excluding English speaking constituents? Nope.

 

It comes across as cowardly, mean-spirited and naïve to this democratic system. Get it together before Sunday or others in the neighborhood will want to remove ignorant and insolent candidates out of the running, peacefully of course by a democratic means.

 

No, it’s not okay to intimidate voters.

It’s uncouth and ignorant.

 

This is the United States of America, not Somalia.

No, we don’t take our voters by sheer force only rhetorical influence.

We let them make up their minds about their very private right to vote.

Voting is a private right and you never tell someone who to vote for because it’s illegal to do so in America. Remember that.

 

Our American voters are not to be intimated to make a vote, because that’s grounds for dismissal from political running. Please become educated about our democratic socio-political system.

 

Personally, I wouldn’t vote for any candidate who’s too riled up about anything. It shows ignorance and it leaves a bad taste in the mouths of voters about candidates’ stupid justified political cultural force.

 

You can sense a tyrant coming when he screams and shouts too much.

 

Speak with a calm voice and write with the wrath of the gods, if you wish.

 

May Allah be with you in your trying times in choosing a pushy leader or not…

 

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*) I believe in Keith Ellison. He’s our 5th Congressional district U.S. representative. He’s a mature, calm, relaxed and polite man to all. I can trust in his calm demeanor. We’re so lucky to have Mr. Ellison as our very own. We voted this Muslim brother into office because our district gets the privilege to vote for this mature leader and that’s another reason why we purchased real estate here. Thank you, Mr. Ellison.

 

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*) Break a Leg Mr. Bill Maher. Good Luck.

 

I believe in my contemporary.

I could gush but that would be disrespectful to certain extend unless…

 

I’m not sure as to why Mr. Bill Maher seemed short with his introductory guest last Friday night? I’m sure you guys have more of an understanding than I do. However Bill Maher seems to be a man who has good reasons for everything he does. I trust in his writers, producers and entire staff. Thank you. Your work doesn’t go unnoticed. I get to catch up with the week’s politics.

 

*) Yes, if I were to watch late night television (which is never) then I’ll watch David Letterman. Period.

 

*) I’ve only watched SNL once since 1998 because back in the days of Chris Farley then SNL went downhill from there and anyone you talk to will tell you that it’s just not funny. Why do the actors smirk all the time as though they’re smirking to themselves? Weird. Is the smirking bad acting or bad direction? I can’t tell. Do they really think they’re that funny because the public doesn’t? I just caught the opening act with the actress and her bit about not being able to walk in high heeled shoes. Oh, we laughed so hard. I’ve got to figure out her name. I’ll look it up next week.

 

Peace.

Gabriel

 

P.S. I’ve yet to pack. I always leave it till the last minute.

 

*) Yes, my writing has a bite but I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. I don’t hang out with assholes anymore. They used to drag me down. I don’t like wiping asses.

 

*) We love our family’s Icelander friends. We love you!

 

*) Our multi-multi-multi millionaire friends have informed us that they paid less in taxes than we did this year. We got gouged by the state but not by the federal. I hope the state enjoys!

 

April 25, 2013

 

“People are not going to care about animal conservation unless they think that animals are worthwhile.” - David Attenborough

 

Happy Thursday!

Aloha.

 

Okay, I’m more awake now. What now? What the hell are you all yammering about?

 

No, I don’t know what the hell you guys are all going on-and-on about but if you don’t have correct information then most likely its best not to post on-line misinformation to an entire body of readership because under the law it’s considered…

 

I know many people who would shutdown that whole entire website faster than you can blink but I’m not like that. Yeah, the judicial system works and so do computer programmers at the... (No, I don’t hack anything.) “Cuidado.” Careful as the Costa Ricans say.

 

Look: Minnesota scum are all intertwined like a badly woven rug and “in bed” with each other because they all drink from the same watering hole. I’m not at liberty to say which watering hole per say because there could be dire repercussions and I’m not like that.

 

No, I’m not an informant to anyone. I’m a private citizen working as an anthropological documentary filmmaker in search of facts, evidence, solutions and social justice change.

 

I sure am a contemporary feminist.

 

I desire justice in three of Minnesota’s different cities that cause female sexual brutalization in the exchange of…for…under the pretence of helping out homeless women in need of food. (You’re breaking my heart. I can’t go there with you. I cannot follow you there.) The truth stings and it doesn’t come with a bark simply with one deadly bite.  

 

We’re talking about the safety of homeless women.

 

Plus this is the kicker: are you ready?

 

Eighty percent (80%) of the Caucasian homeless women have severe mental illnesses like bipolar or schizophrenia. Yikes! What man can really take sexual advantage of a woman with bipolar or schizophrenia? What perverts.

 

And our immature Minnesota mayors can be found crowd surfing concerts like baboon ass morons? What gives? No wonder nothing gets done in Minnesota and cities fall apart and look like ghettos.

 

I lost complete respect for two mayors trying to live out their adolescent wet dreams. Grow up and govern as your people need you to not as you’d like to be perceived as some idiotic eighth graders with their hands underneath wet sheets... There’s so much need for strong leadership and well...never mind what I could write. Minnesota seems like a culture of adolescent male behavior in search of a tit.

 

Leave politics to better men because we all know about that watering hole, lucky for many politicians that the citizens won’t talk about it when there’s so much... It’s been explained to me that when politicians hang out with musicians it’s only because they drink from the same watering hole and that explains where the funds come from…while everyone turns a blind eye and allows for women to get raped. Follow the money and it’ll lead to a poisoned watering hole.

 

What’s so difficult to understand?

 

Why can’t you find enough compassion to understand that women are oppressed by the very hand of men? I think I wrote that in laymen’s terms? No? Yes.

 

Why is it that when women get sexually brutalized then ignorant men continue to promote agencies that have created a great deal of injustice and distress to an entire community of women in need especially when it comes to those injustices between the women and the male caregivers? What gives?

 

Don’t tell me you’re eight and naïve about the world.

 

It’s not very difficult to understand. I’m writing as stupidly as I can possibly write for the common denominator to understand. If I need to further dumb it down then I will.

 

No, don’t feed me misinformation when it took me two years to uncover this particular story that I’ll never get to cut a feature from my reels because others would’ve had to deal with dire consequences and it’s not for me to play a judge in a courtroom.

 

I’ve now burned my second feature length film in five years. Bastards!

 

The whole bloody lot of you. You have no idea how this is played do you? All you care about is money, stupid sappy song writing and self promotion…Yawn. Seriously. No wonder we’re not equals.

 

Do you know how painful it is to burn an entire feature length film because I knew deep down inside that it could’ve done more destruction than help? I’m not a fool even though I may trick you into thinking that I’m one. I’ve made sacrifices that you’ll never know about.

 

Please. I wasn’t born yesterday. It’s going to get shutdown as it ought to have been fifteen years ago because too many homeless women are sexually harassed and sexually assaulted by the hand of the male caregivers whether you like it or not keep your opinions to yourselves unless you have further facts or evidence.

 

What’s happening here is bigger than you or me combined.

 

It’ll get shutdown.

 

It’s in the process of getting erased from the pages of…

 

After the nth number of interviews with different Caucasian women who’ve been sexually harassed, sexually assaulted and raped by the hand of the male caregivers, I went into the bathroom and puked my guts out. I was so disgusted. How vulgar indeed.

 

I’m not curling my hair over here and making eyes at you.

 

When looking me in the eye I’m dead serious. As serious as looking at a snake dead in the eye before it strikes a deadly blow of venom. There’s nothing deadlier than coming so close to the stinging truth and getting paralyzed by it. I’m disappointed in what I unearthed, dead earth. Bad soil. Poisoned soil. Nothing much grows there. Barren.

 

I’ve sat through four years of listening to women talk intimately about their sexual harassment, sexual assaults and rapes and I can’t make a documentary about it for the sake of keeping some sense of order and peace in the community. Get out of my way. Indeed.

 

You want it to stop then make it stop because as one of Boston’s eldest daughters I stand for three distinct cultural laws: Don’t mess with our politics, sports or revenge. Get out of my way if you don’t have anything important to contribute only pretty pictures.

 

Revenge is a dish that is best served cold. Eat up. The whole world’s reading.

 

How dare you look the other way while homeless women have been getting sexually taken advantage of by those who proclaim to help protect them in their most destitute hour? Fifteen years have gone by and it got swept up under the ugly carpet along with the heroin, cocaine, crack, meth, marijuana, alcoholism and anything else that comes short of raping little kids.

 

The Caucasian Minnesotans love their incest because it was done to them and to those before them and those before that. Tragic history. No wonder they’re at a loss for what to do. It’s a culture of rape, hate and victims who disguise their hurt with their pseudo-overachievements, flakiness and self promotion because they feel like nothing and nothing has a tendency of creating hot air. Nothing.

 

Who did you say you were?

 

Nobody important; trying to rile up the masses without any real bit of factual information about what’s going on in our communities. Step aside. We’ll take it from here. We’ve got this one.

 

These are the facts because I’ve been there as a witness to them: yes, management did and does steal from the till (misappropriation of funds) at a particular food bank in Minneapolis.

 

How do I know?

 

The ex-founders told me the entire sorry tale from beginning to end, even they (a group) got caught taking from the till and they told me so, themselves, thus they were removed from office. Yes, women do get physically assaulted and sexually harassed. Fact. I hate to spell it out for you but minors also get sexually harassed and sexually assaulted there. Fact.

 

No, this food bank has absolutely no legal sanctions to go knocking door-to-door canvassing neighborhoods and misleading the public about what they do or don’t do because under the law they’re not even registered as…

 

The founders told me that it was as much a surprise to them as it was to anyone else that the food bank has lasted this long with all of the sexual harassment complaints over the years and the dipping into the till.

 

Find another job. Because that ship is now on lockdown and it’s going down or so I’ve been informed by insiders. It’s not my doing. They did it to themselves and it’s been coming for fifteen years. Pity. I, too, bought into the men behind the organic / vegan curtain with bad breath and scary hair. How’s the watering hole when it dries up?

 

No man may take advantage of women especially when they’re at their most vulnerable and homeless otherwise, I’ll start writing laws that’ll get men castrated (figuratively.)

 

Never touch a woman you don’t know. Never. Unless you happen to bump into her by mistake and then simply turn directly to her and say “excuse me” and leave it at that, she’ll know if you’re a pervert or not.

 

The last thing I’m afraid of is registered sex offenders in north Minneapolis. I’m more concerned with the unregistered sex offenders of the West Bank and Duluth.

 

Eat it!

How do you like sword fish crammed down your throats?

Now, try to sing with a mouth full of injustices that you chose to overlook.

It’s your towns, your cities and your state.

You brag about it all the time, don’t you?

 

It’s your precious Minnesota that you wholeheartedly promote but rarely are willing to bring solutions to the negotiating table and create real social justice and change amongst the lives of the weak, the meek, the scared, the scarred, the destitute and terrified homeless women of Minnesota. Away with you. I wouldn’t break bread with you even if you…

 

I’m starting to think that you’re whole lives are just one big wet dream: nothing more and nothing less while you masturbate away in darkened and dusty ghettos or hump each other’s legs.

 

Peace.

Gabriel

 

P.S. Minnesota now owes me four feature length pictures. Yes, four. No, not two, four. I can’t keep burning my work guys just because Minnesota’s got so many dark secrets. If you just tell me the truth from the very start then you won’t waste my valuable time. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to go pass go and collect my…I’m still smiling and laughing so that must mean that I’m all good with my soul.

 

April 25, 2013

 

Happy Thursday!

Wow, the week’s flying by.

June’s just around the corner.

 

To sink a feature into the can or not this year that’s the question.

I know what type of a feature I’d like to cut.

It came to me tonight while listening to deep discussions about healthcare.

 

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What a beautiful morning moon.

The moon is round, white and bright.

I saw the man in the moon for the first time in many months.

 

The streets are quiet, calm and restful at this time of day.

It’s 6:25am.

I’ve yet to retire for the day.

 

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Disclaimer: No, I’m not anti-social. Yes, I’m lazy when I become extremely relaxed. When I get comfortable and settled into one place then I stay there.

 

I go on to whatever’s next once our time is done.

 

If one place is most comfortable then you won’t catch me bar hopping or party jumping.

 

I stay put because I feel respect, safety and comfort even if it means sitting outside under a blanket of stars. Thank you. I prefer to sit outside by a warm fire and watch the fire dance into the early morning hours as discussions or silence unfolds. I won’t overstay my welcome. I know when I’ve been inspired enough to get up and leave and take to our own bed.

 

Sometimes I just love it when the stars align and I get to enjoy a Tico night amongst lovely company into the early morning hours. It’s rare in Minnesota that’s why I savor it.

 

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Happy Birthday mother-in-law!

 

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The night started out with organic vodka and three toasts.

It took me four hours to get through my first stiff drink.

 

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Symptoms, diagnosis, and prognosis: We searched through medical books and discovered our non-medical pseudo-prognosis.

 

We came to the consensus that it wasn’t mental illness after all. It was a thyroid condition someone in the room wanted answers to. I’m not a medical doc. We discovered it in one holistic medicinal book with only one single page to describe the symptoms in which the patient disclosed 75% of those symptoms. We stood still and shocked at what was uncovered before us; knowledge.

 

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Opa! Opa! Opa! Northeast, Minneapolis.

 

Thank you. I get it. I understand more than meets the eye.

 

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I’ve got St. Paul infrastructure on the mind.

 

I saw so much garbage on the streets of St. Paul tonight. What gives? The “T” line sure is beautifully built. It sure was worth it all. I’d love to take the T into St. Paul and go museum hopping, luncheon and shopping. I might just treat myself to that on my birthday if the T is now open for business. Who knows? I’ll have to look it up.

 

Within the past three weeks, I attended a birthday luncheon at a place called “Cafe Latté” and I loved it. No, I wasn’t there to hang out. We had lunch, shopped at “Eden” for fragrances and left. I don’t think I’d been to the cafe in about a decade (if memory serves me right). It was a blast! Thank you.

 

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I’ve got Northeast, Minneapolis and St. Paul on the mind.

 

Look: my thoughts are these: I’d love to see St. Paul rejuvenated as far as small independent entrepreneurial “mom & pop shop” businesses are considered (no different than New York City’s every block) however not without the safety of The People, first.

 

Why can’t our politicians guarantee their private citizens all of the safety in the world that any civilized nation can offer?

 

I’ve got incredible ideas to contribute but I, first, want to be guaranteed safety for all of our people. All types of safety; from J-Walking to prostitution and corruption. I say legalize all prostitution and drugs because it’s already happening anyway.

 

I’ve got ideas…

 

-----

 

Thank you. My cup runs full of thoughts on this early morning…

 

It’s time for me to retire for the day.

I look forward to sleeping in.

Normally my bedtime is 9, definitely no later than 10pm.

I adore a good night’s rest.

 

-----

 

Yes, the only thing that makes me real nervous is driving in the Twin Cities freeways. Yes, I drive in the slow lane at 55MPH between St. Paul and Minneapolis. If one desires to drive 70MPH then please drive in the lane furthest to the left.

 

-----

 

If one is going to drive the Minneapolis Parkways then realize that the speed limit is 25MPH and that’s that. Period.

 

I had a deer almost jump out in front of my car tonight and that’s why one must drive slow as molasses through the parkways. If you have ants-in-your-pants and have a desire to get somewhere fast then the parkways aren’t for you because there’s too much wildlife. Period.

 

Goodnight Moon.

I’m a sleepy head.

 

Yes, St. Paul reminds me of some parts of the East Coast a bit but so many of the buildings are shabby looking and rundown. What’s with the garbage everywhere?

 

I never want to say this again, but I think that I fell in love with St. Paul tonight (for reasons that you won’t realize) although some things have to change for the betterment of the people. It goes without say. (I think. I don’t know yet but I might…) I’ve got to skateboard that bloody neighborhood to see if it’s as Kosher as everyone wants to sell me on it.

 

Peace.

Gabriel

 

P.S. I had a blast tonight! I was honored to have a private walk-through to one of St. Paul’s up and coming design storefronts of one of my closest-male friend’s wife. I’ve known him since I was twelve years of age. How truly incredible life is. The store isn’t open to the public yet but it soon will be. Cheers to progress and development.

 

April 24, 2013

 

“A State without the means of some change is without the means of its conservation.” - Edmund Burke

 

Happy Wednesday!

Happy Professionals Day!

Aloha.

 

Alright! I’ve had enough of this weather!

 

I’m stepping out tonight and venturing into St. Paul, which I don’t like to do but I’m going with a glad heart. Can you believe it? I’m going to venture into St. Paul? It’s been about a year since I’ve hung out in St. Paul. Yes, indeed.

 

The Russians have invited me to party with them and I’m taking them up on that invitation. You know what that means don’t you? It means a lot of organic vodka and wild discussions about politics, art, love and life.

 

Those Russians sure are wild, but never impolite or illegal; it probably has something to do with being raised Russian Orthodox. I love their grandmothers! I’ll be in great hands and in private company. I’ve got a ton of questions for them about North East Minneapolis Russians and their club scene. Peace. Oh, yes! North East, you’re on my list. I haven’t forgotten about you, not one bit. I’m gathering research.

 

No, don’t worry. My peeps know where I’ll be. If you know anything about partying with me then you know that it takes me about six hours to get through one drink. I simply like to take in all of the wild cats while I choose one great sitting spot and sit there for hours as people come and go. I’m easy to get along, that’s my nature.

 

People get that I’m happy as a clam sitting somewhere in one spot and being myself. I’m looking forward to a stiff drink. It’s about time. Here we go!

 

Where ever you’ll be tonight please look out for our lovely women in these Twin Cities and respect them because that’s what adult men do.

 

Peace.

Gabriel

 

April 24, 2013

 

*) Did you know that downtown Minneapolis is the safest city to walk around day-or-night in the entire of the United States? Yes, fact. I do it all the time. It’s my adopted hometown.

 

*) Downtown Minneapolis is incredibly safe. I‘m there every day and I feel completely and totally safe.

 

Yes, our downfall is that our pedestrians aren’t cosmopolitan chic because they have ants-in-their-pants and jump the gun by cutting off traffic, jumping out in front of traffic and J-walking.

 

It’s a city that refuses to grow up like Boston or New York City. I love the cool patience of the East Coast and how pedestrians wait patiently at crosswalks without the desire to beat traffic when drivers have the right-of-way.

 

When there’s snow on the ground Minneapolis pedestrians won’t jump out into traffic but as soon as the snow melts then on average we have about ten pedestrians per day jump out in front of our car. It’s the scariest thing in the world.

 

I’ve been informed that if pedestrians jump out in front of our moving vehicle when we’ve got the right-of-way then to run them over like deer because they are endangering drivers.

 

Pedestrians, too, can be at fault especially when they don’t follow the laws, rules and regulations of the road.

 

*) I just found this out last night, Minnesotans tell me: Yes, when merging other drivers must move over and give merging drivers the right-of-way.

 

No, when switching lanes other drivers don’t necessarily have to give a driver the right-of-way but when others merge please move over -- it’s the law. For some reason, I’m having the dickens of a time merging into traffic in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

 

Sincerely,

Gabriel

 

April 23, 2013

 

Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.

(I don’t know how to answer your questions.)

 

I’d almost like to tease the whole bloody lot of you but you’re all too serious.

 

Do I hate musicians?

No, I don’t hate musicians.

Not even in the slightest.

 

I have tremendous respect for their craft and the change they create in the world.

Does that answer your questions?

 

Yes, I get sick and tired of mediocrity. It’s all around us. We got way too lazy and dumb as a nation, as a world because it’s an easy way to make a quick buck without ever having to contribute something worth substance back to the world.

 

Yes, I would love to attend more small and intimate musical venues in Minneapolis in the years to come. Yes, I’d love to do attend alone and be safe about it. Why don’t I? I’ve got my reasons.

 

No, I don’t need personal favors. My friends keep offering the best seat in the house and all I want to know about: is what the “nose bleed section” feels like so I can write about real people experiencing real things.

 

Yes, believe it or not I like to attend small musical venues just like any other common private citizen does but in the process I don’t want my teeth kicked out just because I’m perceived as a dollar bill to some greedy band passing by.

 

I like to take it all in.

 

Yes, I’ve worked behind-the-scenes for commercial venues so nothing much bewilders me as far as stage setup and lighting goes, but do you know what moves me? Great quality sound makes me feel whole. No, I don’t want to be blasted into the next world. I want to hear what the singer and musicians truly have to say to the world through their musical sounds.

 

I’d like to meet real musicians. I’ve kept my arm’s length from professional musicians for the past nine years. Why? I’ve got my reasons. Nothing bad…it’s just that I’ve observed musicians while they thought that I was their cleaning-lady-slave.

 

You get to learn a whole lot about how people misconduct themselves in the ways in which they will mistreat their subordinates. I’ve walked into spaces and immediately people assumed that I was there to serve them in some capacity or another and so I have.

 

What, do I have to wear jewel encrusted gems upon my forehead to get some respect in this contemporary age?

 

No, I didn’t mock anyone although I could have. I walk in the light of grace.

 

I served with a glad heart even though I was there to discuss politics and philosophy I ended up cleaning. I’ve cleaned and then I’ve silently slipped away never to return again. Why would I stick around? I wouldn’t. I’ve got better things to do with my life then have others confuse me for someone else. I’ve been humbled but aren’t I every day? Yes. Aren’t you?

 

To mistreat a subordinate much less someone who isn’t even one’s subordinate is absolutely embarrassing to watch others make such complete fools of themselves. The mistake is too great. I’ve gone along with it but it left a bad taste in my mouth, like day’s old fish and bread left out on a plate.

 

No, I have no idea what the Minnesota music world has been up for the past nine years. No, I don’t listen to Minnesota music because… I’ve got more of an idea of what goes on in the Texas music world.

 

No, I’m not a poser therefore I don’t go around rubbing elbows with people just for the experience of it. Yes, either we’re properly introduced or we’re not (we might meet by chance but that’s rare.) I most likely won’t say a word to you. Why would I? What gives?

 

If we haven’t been introduced then I don’t know you and I won’t pretend to know you no matter how much money or fame you may think you’ve acquired in this world because those two components aren’t real signs of success are they now? Nope. Success is how humanly kind and fair you are to those in your immediate world. The more one bullies people and undermine their experiences then the less they’ll have respect for one.

 

If people around you complain and tell acquaintances (like myself) stories about how rotten some behaviors are then that tells the woe of everything. Word gets around.

 

I’ve had roadies tell me to stay far-far away from famous musicians no matter how “successful” they may seem to come across. Roadies and staff in every field talk. I’ve been deeply and profoundly disappointed by the stories staff and roadies have shared with me. They’ve told me to run while I still could and I have. They’ve done me a great service.

 

Roadies have blatantly told me not to meet their bosses. They’ve kept me hidden from them while we’ve gone out and played together and had a blast taking in the sites around town. I’m the roadies best kept secret because I’ve worked alongside them in hot weather, long hours and for rotten pay.

 

No, the roadies had no idea that I was working undercover (for venue owners) as a documentary filmmaker / researcher but now that they’ll read this I’ll have to answer to that. Roadies thought that I was one of them in the struggle and now I fight for their struggle because I became one of them through the process of learning, sweating and breaking bread together.

 

Over breakfast a friend tells me: “People don’t treat you with the respect you deserve because you’re dark skinned. You don’t get treated as well as I do because I’m white. The first mistake people make with you is that they treat you as less than you are. You’re more white than I am.”

 

Does that answer some of your questions?

 

Yes, I want Minneapolis to musically thrive till the end of time.

Minneapolis is a city made for music but for right now…

I do want it to thrive but not on the backs of the poor, destitute and broke.

 

Do you know what I bloody want?

 

I want to attend small intimate musical venues and be greatly moved by music down to the deepest crevices of my vibrating soul.

 

(No, I can’t stand outdoor concerts because I’ve worked behind-the-scenes as a stagehand when I worked “undercover” for promoters. I know how people get horribly treated with low wages, long hours and destitute working conditions while the traveling circus treats the locals like dirt. No, thank you. I know what goes on here. Yes, I love it that others like that sort of thing for entertainment but you can’t pay me enough money to attend one.) It’s fun getting hired by the boss to go undercover until one comes to realize the destitute and difficult lives workers lead without health insurance and retirement funds while their babies cry for milk behind stage yet the musical acts will take home millions from one hour’s play. It’s heartbreaking to watch and to be a witness to that type of oppression.

 

I want to be moved by music ever so deeply like falling in love. I want to feel an emotional thought provoking hand entering my soul and resting there…I’d like to feel like I’m flying without ever leaving Tierra firma. I want to feel as I do when I take leaps of faith off of Costa Rican waterfalls. I want to feel refreshed in sunlight with the effect of cool shade.

 

I’d like to…meet and discuss amongst real musicians who would be willing to truly talk about the income inequalities and injustices of their industry because so far no one wants to talk about the truth that while some visiting bands make millions from the hard working “middle class” (ticket sales) the grunt workers starve.

 

So there, you made me spell it out: that’s my rotting beef with the music industry and why I’ve been boycotting it for almost nine years. I’ve been fighting for the rights of the musical venue manual workers in the music industry for all these years and getting guff from my readers about how I’m a hater. As if.

 

You have no idea the battles I’m fighting for the rights of manual workers. Quiet power sure is powerful. While you judge I’ve been silently speaking to people who hold power in this industry. You have no idea that I’m making a diplomatic ruckus about these very important issues. Don’t lecture me. I’m a woman and I stand for far more than you’ll ever know. I’ve been silently fighting this battle for nine years amongst…What does it matter? I’m no one to you. And you’re no one to me. Peace.

 

Best Regards,

Gabriel

 

P.S. Excuse me I’ve got somewhere very important to be in a little bit.

 

*) Okay, here goes nothing: A month ago a Duluth television man explained it to me: “The reason why we don’t cover any Minneapolis news in Duluth is because we don’t want our tourist dollars to go towards Minneapolis even though downtown Minneapolis is safer than Duluth. Don’t come here. It’s gotten dangerous.” Do you get it? Of course you do.

 

April 23, 2013

 

“I feel that my role as a former president is probably superior to that of other presidents. Primarily because of the activism and the injection of working at the Carter Center, and in international affairs, and to some degree, domestic affairs, on energy conservation, on environment, and things of that kind.” - Jimmy Carter

 

Happy Tuesday!

Aloha.

 

Happy Tuesday!

 

You guys are so cute! You’re rushing me. Remember you can’t rush a pitch, a serve or a spike. It’s all about timing. You want me to write so that you can feel inspired, less alone and more together in your endeavor to criticize my every word I write. Thankfully when I first began conceptualizing this blog one decade before it was ever implemented I considered the risks of uneducated criticisms.

 

Constructive criticism is excellence in its infinite form.

 

Unwarranted criticism is ignorance in its infinite form.

 

The greatest aspect of this blog is that it’s consistent even if you hate what I write, that’s how you know I’m not insane. There’s no truer value than consistency in mathematics, nature and science which equals true innovative art without having it be bought or sold it simply co-exists in all of its glory and triumph.

 

My sentiments about the world and my world viewpoint are more or less aligned with the stars. I’m consistent till the end because that’s my nature. I’m solid as a boulder in water and what I have to say is important even if you don’t think so. Why are my words important?

 

My words are important because I take a great deal of time to consider, ponder and think about the status of the world. If I’m ignorant then I will change my mind and make corrections. Writing is all about getting humbled each and every day. You have to have a thick skin and a strong backbone to be a public writer who prefers not to sell out.

 

Yes, I extend my emotions from one end of the spectrum to the other. It’s all the same thing. Without great hate there can’t be great love and without the darkest shadow there can’t be the brightest light. If you have nothing to compare and contrast then you’ve got nothing to speak about.

 

I draw a lot of inspiration from being quiet and not doing much, sometimes. I don’t want to write for the sake of writing.

 

I’ve been exploring a lot of new innovative ideas and concepts as of late. My mind is a great engineer first and foremost when it finds ways to make the world a better place even if it means redesigning the toothbrush, how archaic.

 

I want to write because the spirit calls me to it and because I find that I do have something of great value to contribute not because my ego gets in the way or I feel pressured to produce.

 

I want you to know that it’s imperative…

 

It’s of vital consequence for Americans to become adults.

 

We must extend ourselves and become finesse readers of the literary.

 

I know it’s tough to become a great audience appreciator or to understand the subtleties in acquiring an ear for the literary. I get it. It’s like learning to write music dressed in scales and musical notes. It’s tough. It’s work. It’s demanding. It’s pure freedom. It’s fulfilling. It’s beauty at rest with a tremendous outcome on the pulse.

 

I was once young, immature, ignorant and unlearned about the literary realm.

 

I’m doing the world a great service.

 

I’m taking the reader through a great and incredible journey in how to learn to become the greatest audience appreciators especially when they don’t like the work presented before them. I’ve had to swallow a lot of work that I detested but I first, had to learn to appreciate what I didn’t like. Yes, I’m a spoiled brat. I was given all of the time, tools and skills to simply appreciate art.

 

At times, I found myself frustrated and annoyed that I couldn’t understand what writers were writing to me. To me. As any valuable audience member who desires to understand more deeply than the obvious.

 

I wanted to know everything there was to be known about an artist’s voice without studying the art of appreciation because I was ignorant, lazy and I wanted everything handed over to me without having to work for any of it. I was a spoiled brat of thirteen and the less I took the time to understand the great artists of my youth then the less I understood myself.

 

It was one month after my fourteenth birthday in which out of a whim I looked up from a book and decided to get into a car full of peers who drove up my driveway and told me to get in because they were headed south to a place called (I think) Harriet Island.

 

After hours of driving south bound, we parked and I silently walked amongst my peers to a gated field where hundreds if not then thousands of young people stood in the cloudy hot sun and waited for people to come out onto a grand old stage and do what?

 

I had no idea what was about to happen and that was the most fun of all. I was safe with my private school peers and it was all a surprise which I looked forward to with much anticipation. I had no idea what was about to occur and it made me wild with intrinsic excitement.

 

The people on stage were going to do something.

 

They came out and spoke.

 

All at once my heart sank, it became elevated, and I soared with my feet upon the earth. I’d never listened to something as angelic as I had that day surrounded by an entire generation of little kids like myself and contemporaries who believed we had a real political fighting chance at changing the world one musical note at a time as music appreciators.

 

I didn’t desire to be on stage and to be like them. I was ever so happy to be myself and to be me standing upon my bit of earth as I did that entire day as electrical notes vibrated inside my chest.

 

I was an audience appreciator and all I could do was hold myself back from quietly and intrinsically crying as I understood that my destiny was to become a writer because those musicians had the courage to become musicians.

 

On July 7th, 1994 my entire worldview changed and I transformed into a more mature human. I understood that I, too, had a destiny to fulfill as quiet as it may be. It belonged to me and I was in charge of making it happen. I was to pursue writing no matter how imperfect a writer I may be. I make a lot of mistakes because that’s the sign of a true human.

 

I heard the magnificent sounds of The Smashing Pumpkins, The Beastie Boys, A Tribe Called Quest and Green Day.

 

It was an out of body experience without any drugs or alcohol. I shed skin for the first time in my life. It wouldn’t be the last. I was a kid who knew nothing about the world much less… I understood myself through the poems I’d written which I hid away in our attic amongst heir looms and other things.

 

There’s nothing like letting go of fear and admitting that you’re ignorant.

 

There’s nothing like real learning and instead of making oneself the superstar of the world how about, first, becoming human? Why must you always ride cloud nine? How about standing upon a bit of firm earth?

 

You can’t know thyself without looking about and seeing the world in its infinite layers of meaning. It’s not possible. To believe that the world revolves around you is to be as ignorant as believing the earth is flat.

 

The more shallow the criticism than the more self hatred.

 

You can’t extend the kind gesture of constructive criticism without first looking outwardly and seeing what doesn’t work for the world. To stunt the world with idiotic thoughts and beliefs is to slash away at it until the great calm beauty of it is killed away by insolence and worthless hatred without cause or justification.

 

No, we don’t live in an age of madness.

 

Yes, we live in an age of ignorance.

 

How can that be? We have so much technology and advancement before us and yet we stunt our own understanding of the universe(s).

 

I hold back from creating unconditional love amongst written pages because it would be improper to do so. It would be empty and shallow hatred to give unconditional love over to the masses without first understanding hatred.

 

Here I sit before you, with the plume as my tool to convey meaning to the masses that hate almost each word without realizing that it’s a literary lesson taken out of book.

 

I could be making doilies with the multi-millionaires but instead I’m contributing to this realm before I retire. I could retire this very hour but I’m needed for my services. I’m needed for my soul. I’m needed for my spirit. If you met me, then you’d fall in love with me and thus I stay away. What’s the point of falling into agape love with something you don’t understand or care to understand, only something you desire to control or to own.

 

I have enough love to give.

 

When it comes to my work then its serious stuff. I must endeavor forth to give you something that is made of true substance for your own good.

 

My services are to teach you to grow a thick skin, to strengthen your backbones and become adults in these trying times. I’m teaching you to become thinking warriors… I’m teaching you the deepest type of love there is without selling you anything because I’m not a vendor, I’m an artist. I love more than I care to admit. I hate teaching because it means that I have to spell it out and it makes me…laugh.

 

I don’t want to have to spell it out every time I see fear upon your faces that you’re afraid that you’re too ignorant to understand because you are. It’s okay. It’s okay not to know. Learn to know so that you may have great compassion for those who have studied long before you came this way upon the path of knowledge. Once you have knowledge then it’s your duty to do well by others, the earth and moral justice especially when your emotions get in the way of logic and reasoning.

 

I want you to become my equals in these social graces of understanding deep sentiments, ideas and structural concepts but if most Americans are illiterate then that won’t be possible, because we don’t leave our own behind to die.

 

Lean into me and if not that…

Then lean into the work.

 

These words are written for the ages.

These words are written with great reverence and love for 7013.

These words are a marker and a stake to claim our future amongst the pages of history.

 

I’m not writing because I think I’m cute.

I’m writing because my time is limited.

I’m writing because it’s time for humanity to become mature and lean into the wind.

Be not afraid. You’re made of particles the same as the wind.

 

I write because I believe in you.

I write because I believe in the gods.

I write because I believe in the medicinal changing power of words.

Silent and written words combined with saliva and breath no different than with a kiss.

 

I believe in healing maturity.

I believe in bees’ wisdom.

 

Don’t forget: you must tell the news to the bees or they’ll perish.

The secret of the universe(s): If the bees die then so does humanity.

A King’s age old wisdom.

 

Yes, honey is ever so sweet and bitter is the sting.

 

I believe therefore I am.

 

Best Regards.

Gabriel

 

P.S. Try to understand that not all medicinal wisdom tastes good. Open up your minds!

 

*) If you can’t wear stilettos, well, then don’t wear them or you’ll come across as a child stomping around in them. Please, no. It’s too embarrassing to watch. There’s nothing wrong with flats. Flats are so comfortable! Comfort over ridiculous fashion styles. Otherwise women who look ridiculous become ridiculous and that’s a strike against her. Now, walk to first base.

 

April 22, 2013

 

“The development of civilization and industry in general has always shown itself so active in the destruction of forests that everything that has been done for their conservation and production is completely insignificant in comparison.” - Karl Marx

 

Happy Monday!

Happy Earth Day!

Aloha.

 

Happy Earth Day!

 

I have to give a heads up to the Minneapolis African-American community and especially to their men in their late twenties and early thirties for being great stewards of our land and streets.

 

In the past two years I’ve witnessed more African-American men throwing away their garbage into trash cans than I’ve ever seen our brothers and sisters help heal the earth within the past twenty years. Thank you. Your efforts don’t go unnoticed. Every little bit helps. Every little bit counts.

 

On this Earth Day 2013 the “Great stewards of the Earth Award” goes to all of our great African-American Minneapolis heroes who do their tremendous part in maintaining a civilized Minneapolis. I’m so proud of you. I truly am.

 

There have been times in which I’ve almost shed slight tears primarily watching our African-American men in their twenties and thirties do their duty for ‘King and Country’.

 

What a great America of ours!

 

Just when I was about to give up and I was about to start throwing my own garbage on the ground as a mirroring image to others; (since it seemed like no one cared to throw their garbage into the trash cans anymore) there I sat last summer at a Vietnamese Restaurant and observed from across the parking lot as a young African-American man of late twenties made the tremendous effort to throw his garbage into a trash can at a gas station.

 

His garbage blew out of his hands and without a single hesitation he went after it. He was like a demigod in his graceful movements and fluid agility. I watched him move as he retrieved his garbage with great ease. He was an Olympian. A champion of men. He was an adult man with nothing to be embarrassed about and everything to live for.

 

He didn’t care if he looked cool or not. He was cool.

 

He did the right thing by retrieving his garbage and sinking it into the garbage can with all of the world class of an NBA basketball player.

 

My heart filled full of life.

 

That day I understood that our African-American men had turned a corner and had started to change the world one piece of garbage at a time.

 

I wanted to run out of the restaurant and go over to him and thank our brother.

 

He seemed far more beautiful than any other man alive in those gloriously fleeting moments. Once more I began to believe in humanity. That moment made me believe in our African-American men. I believed because if he believed in doing the right thing as small as it may have seemed to others then the rest of us could follow his example. He cared enough to care and that made me care also. I shan’t forget his figure, he face and his great demeanor for as long as I live. He was indeed a greatest poem for the ages. I shall carry him around in my soul forever.

 

Sincerely,

Gabriel

 

P.S. I’m getting informed that the main reason as to why African-American men still dress in the same “fashions” (if you can call it that) as they did in the year 1990 (23 years ago) is because they’re too poor to buy new clothes and invest in their present futures. I guess that African-Americans got stuck in a welfare-adolescence with baggy jeans belted below their hips and butts wearing huge cotton candy puffy sports coats and oversized T-Shirts or whatever. Pity.

 

African-American men are so good looking but when they look like they got stuck in a time-warp (1990) (23 years ago) then the world has indeed passed them by and no body’s looking back.

 

Women won’t look twice.

Why should we?

Women don’t look at boys.

Women look at well put together men.

 

How can women not love looking at well put together African-American men?

 

A man’s Oxford shirt goes a lot further than tight skinny jeans belted at the knees. Tight skinny jeans were all the rage in the early 1990’s and they were made for women not men. When I see a man in skinny jeans I think of women with big bangs and… People were wearing skinny jeans in 2005 (eight years ago). Haven’t we moved on yet? Oh, how slow fashion is at progressing--it’s no different than politics. Slow as molasses at catching up with The People, The Mainstream.

 

Yes, I’m married and I can still look at a greatly put together man because it’s rare in this age of…American poverty to see a man look like a middle income earning man and not like an impoverished welfare freak. Even in third world countries people dress cleanly, comfortably and well in their Sunday best.

 

What’s a fashion freak? Someone who purchases clothes and tries to fit into them. You should never fit into clothing. Clothing should fit the contours of your body. If clothes don’t fit your body then you’ve fallen down some drug induced rabbit hole of made-up fashions for stupid consumerists. Period.

 

If people were to come into our private studio in flip flops and skinny jeans looking for a position then I smile and ask them to please leave the premise. I don’t take them seriously. Not enough to do beautiful cinematography or to conduct real documentary interviews with people in the community who’ve lost loved ones, homes and their retirement funds.

 

I don’t mind people wearing jeans, so long as I’m not forced to see their butt cracks and hear them breathing like they’re about to pass out like some 17th century courtesan strapped into a girdle. Please.

 

I’ve silently gotten up and walked out of prestigious law offices in which their attorneys wore flip flops to work. I knew immediately that my money wouldn’t be respected in such settings because no one had enough common sense to wear a respectable wardrobe. No way! Why should I give my money away to children? No way! No Way! I left. I was completely and totally turned off. I wanted to conduct business with real adults not children. Even my international entertainment attorney in Costa Rica doesn’t wear flip flops. He wears modern killer suits and closed toe shoes, no, not tennis shoes. Thank you very much. I can sense that he feels great in his professional attire and I can trust in that.

 

I dress in a molest attire, sophisticated, strong and light modern chic clothes and materials. Most work days I have to be ready to do photography at a moment’s notice which requires dealing with technical equipment therefore you won’t catch me in an evening gown, unless I have it especially tailored to fit my body for some exclusive gala or other.

 

If I’m judged by others in some of their ugly, tight, logo designer clothes then I hold my tongue because if I start rhyming then you won’t get me to stop. If your shirts have ripples in the front of them then it means that your shirts don’t fit you properly.

 

You never want your shirt to have an ocean of ripples in between your breasts. It looks improper and ugly, ignorant. I hate logos on the outside of clothes. It makes people less human and more of a walking advertisement than not. Pity. I thought the whole point of clothes is to make people feel great in them so people can make great contributions to the world.

 

Fashion is socio-political.

Writing is socio-political.

Music is socio-political.

 

Science is socio-political.

Math is socio-politico.

 

Beauty is calm.

Function is the breath of life.

Common sense is the heart.

 

No, I don’t look at African-American women either who look like they’re wearing their old “mammies’” rags. Why should I? Nope. Welcome to the 21st century.

 

Contemporary African-American men of particular demographics are the same in comparison to those of the 1950’s Caucasian greasers who didn’t move on or evolved past their impoverished adolescent styles because they couldn’t afford to do so and also because of either too much drug or alcohol use.

 

If teens get constantly intoxicated in their early lives then the brain gets stuck in adolescence and the brain leads the human to believe that the world is as they saw it from their stunted growth of that time period and era long gone. It’s as though they’ve become mentally handicapped and their choices in clothes and speech will indicate if they’ve moved along with the times or not. It’s imperative to move along with the times even if you do it on a budget because it means that you’re an adult and not a teenager.

 

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

 

          Personally, I hate rap videos because they look so outdated and cheap to my eye-balls. It’s the same old, same old crap depicted about mansions, stupid looking cars, chains and “hoes”. That’s old news. You got anything new? Anything artistic? Anything inspirational? Anything worth sinking our teeth into? If you’ve got something real and meaningful to say then let’s hear it. Otherwise, into the garbage can. Those stupid and shallow depictions were captured in the year 1990 and it wasn’t even good then and it isn’t good now.

 

Did rap get stuck in a time warp? Did music get stuck in a time warp?

 

It’s so weird that rap and music in general got stunted in America with the greedy money making crap of pop-music. Pop-music sucks. Who am I to say that? Someone who grew up in the era of real music. Someone who’s studying the history of music right now. Pop-music is for untalented hacks that spread the message of love but have no idea that with great love comes with great unselfish sacrifices. Eat that for Nordic dinner tonight. (Wink, I’m smiling right about now.) I’m trying to get you to think outside the box.

 

Just because I’m literary it’s not like I don’t know anything about music. Please.

 

Yes, for about six years I studied music theory. Yes, I can’t keep a four count to save my life because I didn’t learn it in the jungles for the first ten years, yet I know how to read music just like I do know how to read words. Simply because I’m tone deaf it’s not like I don’t hear music inside my head. Beautiful glorious music. I just need to get it out by some tangible means like I do with written words.

 

When I’m done being literary I’m going after music because since 1996 I’ve been forced to listen to pop-crap over the radio waves. I’m about to give up on modern music.

 

I’d like to make music that’ll get this giant up on its feet and unite the Americans. Music that will leave you believing in love, politics, raw flesh, art, sex, faith, peace, integrity, social justice, environmentalism and raw smells of the human condition.

 

Yes, when I first begin any endeavor I’m always last chair. I’m awful at anything new but with time and discipline I normally become first chair. Everything my hands touch turns to gold. It’s always been like that. I weave gold. I can’t help it. It’s in my nature.

 

Do you know that I still tear up at the American National Anthem? Yes.

 

No, I don’t cry but I can’t help but slightly tear up.

 

Music is the difference between life and death.

 

All of these greedy no bodies took over the radio waves and they can’t even sing.

 

If you’re not going to save lives then don’t pick up an instrument and don’t pretend to sing through a synthesizer. If you don’t have anything political to say then don’t pick up a plume. It’ll be a waste of humanity’s time and we’ve got so little and so much of it depending on how you look at it.

 

When so many suffer in America and throughout the world…why then does our music fail us? I thought that music was here to inspire and give faith to each generation but with all of the pop-money-making-crap our musicians don’t even need to know how to sing, they just have to make music for twelve year olds. Why did musicians forget their duty to their people? Ah. Greedy weirdoes.

 

No wonder I neither desire to meet musicians nor to stand in the same rooms as them. I don’t have enough respect for mediocrity created inside bubbles of greed…I get slightly grossed out. I’d rather hang out with diplomats than with musicians. I thought that…well who cares what I think? I’m only one voice in the universe(s).

 

Music used to bring me down upon my knees (literally). In private I’d place a tape into a boom box, close the door to my bedroom and listen to sounds that elevated my soul. I’d close my eyes and I felt that I was floating (without drugs or alcohol). Music used to make me feel like we had a real fighting political future. I’ve fallen in love with the oldies, the classics.

 

I’ve yet to hear Black Sabbath, The Beatles and Soul Asylum (I guess they’re local).

 

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

 

          My entire day-to-day wardrobe for the past four seasons cost about six hundred dollars (give a few hundred). (I’m only writing about money so that there may be a record for the year 7013.) (No, in person I don’t like to talk about money because it’s improper to do so, however I will if I sense that there needs to be something learned and not gained by doing so.) (Plus, I grew up on currency. I still consider paper bills, cute.) I already know all of the rules to money (currency) so I’ve got nothing to lose. I have a great deal of respect for money in general and when it comes to money I don’t joke about it because it’s the difference between families eating or not.

 

My wardrobe is clean, well fitted and comfortable. If I can have a well put together wardrobe for that amount then so can others for half the amount or less. Why? Because I don’t buy any designer or logo clothing but I do love well stitched, well made and beautifully rugged clothes. My clothes do have to stand the test of time even if the materials are made from light modern polyesters that look like chiffons or silks.

 

I’ve fallen in love with clutches and for the first time in my life I’ve considered making the purchase of a clutch for one-thousand dollars but that seems a waste when so many of Minnesota’s kids go to bed hungry thus for the past two years every time that I’ve gone to purchase such a clutch I’ve donated that money instead.

 

I’m happy with my thirty dollar vegan clutch that is so well stitched it just won’t fall apart on me and I feel sophisticatedly rugged. I can’t bring myself to purchase something that will clothe and feed so many kids, even if only for a little while. See. All fashion is socio-political. Yes, indeed.

 

There were three years in which my entire year’s wardrobe cost about one-hundred dollars. It was about having the essentials in my wardrobe and nothing more with a limited budget that didn’t even put a single apple on my table for three years.

 

Three good shirts, two good pairs of pants, a comfortable pair of dress shoes, flip flops, tennis shoes, boots and one stylish winter coat (not gaudy-ghetto) and a skirt or two.

 

When you purchase one item then please donate one good item.

 

If you stick to blacks, grays and browns then you can mix and match.

 

If you buy ostentatious prints then more often than not; prints quickly go out of style and look aged or you have to purchase items that require matching the prints but if you buy for example; an all black wardrobe then you’re set because everything matches, although I don’t recommend it for people who get depressed or of certain complexion types.

 

I love all black or all grey or all brown with a splash of color here and there. Remember, the most stylish and sophisticated color for clothing is black. You can’t go wrong with black. Plus it’s a slimming color. Black hides many imperfections. Orange doesn’t. Orange has never been forgiving upon my figure or complexion. I stay away from oranges like it was the plague. I know I know. Next year the new black is going to be orange. One of our most fashionable girlfriends made her way through New York City’s fashion houses and well, I just can’t swallow orange. I love orange on other people but not on myself.

 

I can’t seem to find a single pair of petite straight leg pants.

 

Why is it that everything out there is punk 'skinny' pants, tapered at the bottoms?

 

I’m neither a punk nor do I care to suffocate in my pants.

 

Ah, why are ugly punk pants getting peddled to the mainstream when skinny pants went out of fashion in 2008? Come on! Let’s go! Catch up!

 

Punk isn’t dead, but I could almost take it out if that’s what it means when purchasing mainstream clothes. Tapered pants were ugly in the 1980’s and 1990’s and they are still ugly today and everybody with a brain in their heads knows it except for the ugly stuff that the poser-trend-setters put out there as if it were golden poop. You know about golden poop don’t you? Ah, when will the leaders lead by good common sense rather than ugly and stupid ideas?

 

Haute Couture clothes were beautifully made this season but some designers are so out of touch with the real fight women on the ground are facing, alone, as second class citizens.

 

Whatever’s out on the racks leaves much to be desired. No wonder Americans seem to refuse to become chic adults and contribute to a global economy through the fierce natural force of the entrepreneurial spirit?

 

Like I said, all art is political otherwise you’re just spinning on your…

 

*) No, I don’t ever want to be skinny. That’s just a dumb Caucasian magazine television thought, concept and idealism. I want to be me. Normal and beautiful with a little bit of fat so that if I get deathly ill once more then my little bit of fat can save my life as it has three other times previously in my adulthood. I would’ve died without that little bit of fat on me. I want to move freely and breathe out poems of the wonderful flesh because someday we’ll be nothing but bones and then I’ll be okay with getting deadly skinny, when I’m dead.

 

*) Middle-age is 45-65. Period.

 

*) Yes, I joke about being “middle-aged” in my mid-thirties because last year a jealous woman in her mid-sixties told me that I was old, but I’m being informed that this is the prime of my life so live it up!!! I am.

 

I guess, this is when women are at their most beautiful from 28 to 45. After 28 either you’re going to be insane or not. The brain is done developing around 28 years of age or so and that’s when you’ll know what type of a mental health future you’ll have. My psychologist father has granted me a clean mental bill of health.

 

If you started continuously and heavily drinking and using drugs at about age fifteen then most likely your brain got stunted at that age and well, pity. The rest of us moved on and evolved.

 

I started experimenting with alcohol when I was about 24, 25, and 26 or thereabouts therefore I was late to the game. No, I’ve never been a heavy drinker. Three drinks at most, per week. When one is ESL one has to concentrate and work way too hard at translating correctly and that’s why alcohol and being multi-lingual doesn’t mix well. I can’t think and excessively drink at the same time. I had many more responsibilities to fulfill in setting up my future than getting drunk off of my rocker.

 

Personally, I think that some of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever met have been in the decade of their 60’s. No joke. Some of these women are knock-outs and wise. There’s nothing like a woman who ages beautifully. That’s her true testament of time. I really don’t feel like people have fully arrived until their sixties because that’s when they seem to be the most mature and less selfish.

 

*) I’ve just reconnected with a friend who is now in his late fifties and he’s in the best shape that he’s ever been in. He’s a great athlete. He’s voice is clear and he’s a kind, intelligent, successful and a smart man who reads in German. It’s amazing. When I ask the gods for anything then they provide and I thankfully receive. I’m honored to reconnect with this incredible man who changed my life at the age of twenty-one with his outlook on life. We’ve never been romantic but we have shared our hopes, dreams and aspirations with one another. I’m an open book with this man because I trust whole-heartedly. We fell into complete platonic love for one another. Respect and understanding makes for great friendships between men and women.

 

April 19, 2013

 

“Economics is a subject that does not greatly respect one's wishes.” - Nikita Khrushchev

 

Happy Friday!

Aloha.

 

April 18, 2013

 

“I served seven years as the chair of the Princeton economics department where I had responsibility for major policy decisions, such as whether to serve bagels or doughnuts at the department coffee hour.” - Ben Bernanke

 

Happy Thursday!

Aloha.

 

April 17, 2013

 

“Marriages are under strain today in terms of economics. There are social cross-currents. We see failed marriages. But it is not under attack by our gay and lesbian citizens.” - Earl Blumenauer

 

Happy Wednesday!

Aloha.

 

April 16, 2013

 

“Answers are not enough, students should be encouraged to ask questions and explore alternatives to the norm. Entrepreneurship and invention are the backbone of the new economy, yet I doubt they get more than a nod in economics courses.” - Jim Hunt

 

Happy Tuesday!

Aloha.

 

April 15, 2013

 

“My folks are economists and have taught economics and social science so I grew up with those kind of conversations around the dinner table.” - Seth Gordon

 

Happy Monday!

Aloha.

 

Yes, of course and unfortunately I’m all too aware of the Boston Marathon explosions: Yes, I learned about it soon after.

 

First and foremost, our prayers are with the victims and the families.

Our friends who ran the Boston marathon and their families are safe and sound.

 

I’ve been left speechless.

Boston is my home.

 

Boston has been our family home for over three-hundred and thirty-three years (1680’s). We gladly pay taxes to Boston. We’ve attended colleges and universities in Boston. We live and have contributed to these shores well before America was established.

 

These aren’t the first Boston explosions that our family and friends have lived through. We’ve lived through underground fires and faulty duct work but we haven’t lived through explosions since the American Revolutionary War (1775-1783).

 

Our prayers are with all of those runners and their families from around the world.

God be with the Americans and our lovely international tourists.

 

Happy Patriots Day to our dearest beloved ones.

 

With Regards,

Gabriel

 

I’m sorry I’m not able to say more profound words.

Oh, how painful.

 

April 12, 2013

 

“My job was to teach the whole corpus of economic theory, but there were two subjects in which I was especially interested, namely, the economics of mass unemployment and international economics.” - James Meade

 

Happy Friday!

Aloha.

 

April 11, 2013

 

“But my shift to the serious study of economics gradually weakened my belief in Major Douglas's A+B theorem, which was replaced in my thought by the expression MV = PT.” - James Meade

 

Happy Thursday!

Aloha.

 

April 10, 2013

 

“Demand is best measured in terms of spending. You know, I think in traditional economics, it's a mistake to measure it in terms of the quantity of goods.” - Ray Dalio

 

Happy Wednesday!

Aloha.

 

April 9, 2013

 

“In economics, one of the most important concepts is 'opportunity cost' - the idea that once you spend your money on something, you can't spend it again on something else.” - Malcolm Turnbull

 

Happy Tuesday!

Aloha.

 

April 8, 2013

 

“First rule of Economics 101: our desires are insatiable. Second rule: we can stomach only three Big Macs at a time.” - Douglas Horton

 

Happy Monday!

Aloha.

 

April 5, 2013

 

“I found this out over the years, that racism is a thinly veiled disguise over economics and money. It really is.” - Quincy Jones

 

Happy Friday!

Aloha.

 

Hello, lovely worldwide people; (My Mayan Gods! There are so many of you!)

 

I worked throughout the entire month of March 2013: public emails, website photographs, Artist Statements and phone calls, thus I get to take-off the month of May 2013 from writing in general.

 

We’re about to start filming in April 2013.

See you on June 1st, 2013 for the blog.

I’ll start the podcast again on May 1st, 2013.

 

Peace.

Gabriel

 

P.S. No, I don’t believe in any type of physical violence whatsoever (I was taught that physical violence meant mental illness: once you make contact, game over!); however please don’t forget that strong content and language makes for great literary expression; nothing more and nothing less.

 

I have neither physically laid a hand upon anyone nor hurt others. That’s wonderful! A thought is only a thought. Ha! Splendid, indeed!

 

We’ll talk about the subject matter of developing-a-voice in the podcast starting in May 1st, 2013.

 

Yes, I may dress like a prude:

 

(Men, tell me that there’s nothing sexier

than women who leave everything up to the imagination,

 and who don’t give away anything-for-free much less ratings;

like an exposed cleavage that looks like an ass

ready for anal sex, (homo-heterosexual sex amongst black men)):

dressing like a prude doesn’t constitute

any man taking away power from women.

 

Yes, I’m sensual in my writings, photos and art, but not in life.

 

No, you may not touch me.

 

Yes, in life I’ve learned to be sexless, serious and strict

because this is a war about sexual conquests,

sexual molestation

and sexual predators.

 

Yes, I get it.

I stay out of the social spotlight

so as not to have any

sexually power-hungry men or women

hunt me down like a zebra in the forest.

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

 

*) Yes, primetime morning and nightly Television is madness, boring, shallow, uninformative, and stupid and neither slightly nor remotely educationally entertaining. What’s the point of sitting through morning and nightly television except for the weather if you don’t even get informed about anything spectacular to get your brain muscles to start thinking sub-conscience thoughts about the world in general throughout the day?

 

You can get more educationally entertained at Disney World than you can from morning bubble gum television. No wonder the U.S.A. ranks only 24th educationally in the world. No wonder the greatest generation hates the CBS Morning Show with a passion (too shallow). When will these walnut sized brain dinosaurs die off? The same old crap makes Americans bored stiff with fluff. Candy rots out the teeth and we all know that.

 

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*) Yes, sequester is a political fraud. Yes, sequester is a made-up concept. Yes, sequester is a lie. Yes, sequester is a way to control the public. Yes, sequester is a way to rob the people of their rights, benefits and entitlements. Yes, sequester is a great way to steal food from the mouths of babes. Yes, sequester is for confused leadership. Yes, there doesn’t need to be sequester whatsoever and we all know this to be a control tactic. Sequester is a fear tactic.

 

Don’t be afraid of the made-up political boogie monsters underneath politicians’ beds.

 

Yes, sequester was invented just like sequester political boogie monster is. Yes, the control-freakishly mean-spirited elite are lining themselves up to run the country within the next year with the help of the government. Yes, the more The People get squeezed then the more we’ll be forced to go into debt and then the mean-power-hungry elite will own the U.S.A. through debt and more debt. Don’t let them. There’re more of us than there’s power-hungry elite and we rule here! In this Republic the majority gets the say. Practice your democratic principles.

 

Yes, there’s more money in the government than you’ll ever get a clue. The money’s sitting there waiting to help out the Americans but it’s also held hostage by congress. Yes, our government is holding hostage The People’s money with this made-up sequester. Yes, I get my information from elite intellectuals who actually care what happens to the Americans. 

 

Don’t be afraid of anything.

Let’s get beyond all of the political propaganda.

There’s no boogie monster.

 

Sequester is fear made to look like a magicians trick for the mind. Become proactive. Go ahead get sequester reversed and have it go up in smoke. Make it disappear!

 

Pressure congress to actually work for The People and not against them.

 

Congress is a bunch of liars, money-hungry grabbing idiots who self-loath and have their greedy little hands in the till while they ‘cry wolf’ when their-idiotic-ideas fail. Don’t let congress fail The People.

 

These Congressmen and congresswomen are supposed to be “middle class workers” earning about one-hundred-and-ninety thousand per year, yet somehow with inside trader’s information they become multi-millionaires and forget their responsibilities to The People.

 

There ought to be laws passed that no member of congress ought to leave congress with any more than their salaries per year. If such laws were passed then the scum wouldn’t run for office anymore because there wouldn’t be anything in it for them to steal.

 

How’s sequester supposed to work out? Imposters. We need to vote-in smart teachers, doctors, garbage collectors, entrepreneurs, business owners, plumbers, waitresses and every other “middle class” and “working class” professionals into congress because The People are getting dragged through the mud by horrible greasy gamblers who bet with The People’s money, livelihoods, economic freedoms and rights. Vote-out the GOP and the Tea Party. What have you done? What have you done?

 

Peace.

----------

 

*) The People want strict gun laws in this country; so get it done, now!

 

Yes, 92% of Americans believe in background checks. No, The People don’t want police in their schools. Yes, The People demand for strict gun laws when it comes to multiple high magazine weapons. Get it done! Now! Jesus!

 

How many bribes does congress need to do the right thing and not what the gun manufacturers requires of them? Please. The People weren’t born yesterday. Congress has an important job to do and they need to get that important job done for the betterment of The People and not for congressmen’s and congresswomen’s economical personal gluttony who love to reach into deep pockets and take from the till.

 

----------

 

*) Congress sets-up the fiscal budgets. It’s the responsibility of congress to pass well-balanced budgets and anything else is either a failure or an incomplete. Do it again! This made-up sequester was brought-on by congress. What cowards. What haters of The People. Why does the American congress hate The American People so much? Congress has decided, not, to take any action in leadership thus sequester stands as it is because they’re cowards and steal from... What a bunch of…

 

----------

 

*) Ayn Rand is for eighteen-year-olds who don’t understand that Ayn Rand’s novels are overly romanticized literary soap operas. Please! Enough! Let’s move on to mature literature! Ayn Rand’s novels are a joke when it comes to real political policies.

 

----------

 

*) Keep your religion out of my politics. Period.

 

----------

 

*) Follow the money.

Into whose deep pockets does the sequester cuts go to?

 

----------

 

*) If North Korea ever-so-much as considered to bomb America through an electromagnetic strike upon American soil then there will remain a hole the size of N. Korea with a plaque titled “Here, once, stood North Korea.”

 

----------

 

*) No, a man may not comment about any women’s looks, ever. It’s unprofessional, uncouth, wrong and in poor taste especially in any professional setting.

 

Welcome to the 21st century! Women aren’t objects. Women ought not to get objectified by men especially not by the president of the United States of America, even if he means well. In context I understood what happened and I accept his public apology.

 

A man wouldn’t comment about a woman’s bad looks and how ugly she is therefore a man ought not to comment about a woman’s good looks, because pretty much what a man is saying is that she’s got a nice rear end and she’s an object to him, nothing more and nothing less.

 

----------

 

*) Oh, you don’t find my writings eloquent?

I’m not here to write a novel.

 

I’m teaching the reader something about literary cultural common denominators. I’ve been taught by the masters how to mimic the voice of an entire angry and fed-up generation whether you like it or not I don’t really care. What I’m accomplishing is greater than you or I. I know exactly what I’m doing when I write. I’m writing aren’t I? Therefore, I’m quite aware of what I’m doing through this process. Please. If I wanted to be eloquent then I’d write an entire book of sonnets. I look naïve but I’m not dumb.

 

----------

 

*) Yes, there ought to be a federal audit upon the city of Duluth, MN. This summer if you’re a tourist then truly take your lives into your own hands when heading into Duluth.

 

I’ve received reports that the city has gone extremely corrupt, criminally-infested in which the crime rate has skyrocketed as of this year (March 2013) and it’s no place to be meandering like a dumb tourist. Downtown is a dressed up ghetto in ruffles: I’ll come back to this subject matter next summer (2014) but for now even the locals are sending me terrifying crime reports about their city and tell me to stay away. The locals are asking why they still haven’t received their FEMA checks from last summer’s flood. I’m sure that I don’t know. I could find out, though. People are still living in mold-filled basements. What happened to the FEMA money? Who got into the till?

 

----------

 

*) Do you know how difficult it is to get disability? Please. Next argument.

 

----------

 

*) Guys, I hope that answers some of your questions.

I’ve got to run. I’m overdue. I’ve got to pack. Cheers!!!

 

----------

 

*) No, don’t marry mean-spirited women. They’re so unhappy. They hate themselves thus they’ll hate you, your marriage and your children.

 

Today, I shopped at an Uptown paper specialty store and I swear to god I thought the late-twenties Caucasian woman behind the counter who gets paid minimum wage was about to punch me square in the face because her anger went further than her brain.

 

She was an angry person and it made her seem ever so ugly. I’ll not go back to that paper store. It’s hasn’t been the first time that it’s happened at that same location. It’s such a pretty paper store and such ugly and mean-spirited staff that would punch you in the face if they could get away with it. Yikes! Whatever happened to lovely working women? Every working woman out there looks so sour, bitter and angry nowadays. It doesn’t cost anything to smile. It doesn’t. I’ve worked retail and even when I barely made any money to eat I still didn’t take it out on my customers because they meant the world to me.

 

I’ve been informed that the only time service working women are decent and nice to others is when it happens to be eligible men who the female-workers can flirt with but that’s about it. If you’re a female customer then good luck to you and yours.

 

----------

 

*) Yes, I’ve previously and recently traveled the entire state of Minnesota and the safest and coolest place to shop and hang out is downtown, Minneapolis.

 

Why?

 

Because downtown, Minneapolis has the greatest asset of goodwill ambassadors who walk around picking up trash, fixing sidewalks, helping out locals and tourists alike with directions and questions and the scene is calm and serene because the ambassadors are present and keep a great eye over the city.

 

I love hanging out downtown, Minneapolis knowing that the goodwill ambassadors are around. Downtown, Minneapolis truly is cozy and a great place to hang out in a relaxed adult way without hipster rabid energy. It’s a place for adults aside from the panhandling and exotic dancing bars in the outskirts at the other end of town away from the classy bars and restaurants. There are classy yet relaxed places to hang out like… (No, I’m not going to tell you my favorite posh hang out. It’s a secret.) I love classy posh places where no one puts on airs because we all work much too hard all week long. We’re tired. We just want to relax with great drinks and sometimes...

 

I have skateboarded and hung out downtown without any fear anytime of the day or night and I’ve done it happily. I wouldn’t walk Lake Street pass dark but I’ve skateboarded Hennepin Avenue, downtown and “people watched.” It’s great fun.

 

Minneapolis is one of the safest walking metropolises I’ve come across, safer than Chicago (hands down). All types of responsible people hang out downtown.

 

Now we need to work on getting more restaurants with reasonable price menus to open-up there and bring those exorbitant prices down so that more suburbia folks can participate in a comparable urban price range, so that those of us in the “middle class” can tip the wait staff like we’re posh multi-millionaires (although that’s a horrible comparison because millionaires are the worst tippers in the world); we know what it’s like to bus tables, serve food and drinks.

 

We all worked service jobs in our twenties and we know what hard work that is. Tip what you can although no less than 20%.

 

If you can tip like a King then go ahead.

 

What goes around comes around, although my dad tells me that I tip too much (and he’s right) but I don’t care. I know I’m middle income earner and I work hard for my professionally earned artistic dollar. Hip! Hip! Hooray!

 

Gabriel

 

April 4, 2013

 

“One of the jewels in the crown of Labour's time in office was the rescue of the National Health Service. As the Commonwealth Fund, the London School of Economics and the Nuffield Foundation have all shown, health reforms as well as additional investment were essential to improved outcomes, especially for poorer patients.” - David Miliband

 

Happy Thursday!

Aloha.

 

April 3, 2013

 

“I'd call it a new version of voodoo economics, but I'm afraid that would give witch doctors a bad name.” - Geraldine Ferraro

 

P.S. F.Y.I. Oh, like hell if I don’t know that the wealthiest attorneys’, doctors’, judges’, journalists’, architects’, real estate agents’ and every other upstanding Caucasian adult child in the Twin Cities Metro Area in their twenties doesn’t go slumming with pimps and prostitutes and sexual-predator-hippies in exchange for powdered cocaine, heroin and every other bloody drug. Please. I wasn’t born yesterday.

 

As a documentary filmmaker I’ve met your rich slumming adult children from Edina, Cottage Grove and Kenwood in some of the most terrible places that I’d never thought I’d see the two demographics mixing. When your adult-kids snort heroin they tell way too many details about the private lives of their parents and families to pimps and prostitutes. Careful. Sad.

 

The rich white kids have the money and the poor black dealers have the drugs.

 

These two demographics have more in common than you’ll ever know. The rich white kids and the poor black live hand-in-hand with one another because they need each other. I can understand that.

 

Legalize all drugs and prostitution.

 

And you guys want to take out the “middle class.” As if.

 

No, heroine is no longer injected anymore. Nowadays, heroin is snorted and it’s the number one drug amongst white suburbia white youth and twenty-some-things. Powdered heroin has surpassed alcohol, tobacco and marijuana but not cocaine. Wake up.

 

Legalize all forms of drugs and prostitution and tax such goods and services.

 

It’s all about those drug addictions in exchange for sex. The wealthiest Caucasian twenty-some-things of this Twin Cities Metro Area love to get down and dirty and go slumming because… I know the type of pimps your well-educated Caucasian daughters sleep with in exchange for another fix. Terrible. Lost souls.

 

I’m a professional artist and there’s nothing cute about dirty-hippie-street-artists. Professional artists stay well away from those types because we know exactly what adversity comes with that lifestyle… Is the Minnesota Orchestra’s lock-out causing people to lose their taste for refined art? Pity.

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Oh, you guys are cute.

You’re as dense as door knobs when it comes to literary expression.

 

No, I don’t believe in stringing-up people by lampposts.

 

Yes, I believe in the American judicial justice system.

 

Yes, I know all about Clayton, Jackson, McGhie history. (Look it up.)

 

How do I know?

 

I made a short documentary film in the year 2003 about the history of Clayton, Jackson, McGhie, three African-American men who on June 15, 1920 were unjustly lynched in Duluth, Minnesota due to mob rumors that a white teen girl had been raped by six black circus workers.

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Yes, I get it.

 

No, I’ve neither been raped nor beaten up.

Yes, I count my lucky stars.

 

Yes, I get it that rape is a touchy subject anywhere.

 

Yes, I get it that women lie about rape.

 

Yes, I get it that men lie about rape.

 

Yes, I get it that women do get raped, far too much in the United States.

 

Yes, I get it that women are viewed as sexual commodities, sex-slaves, objects and things.

 

Yes, I get it that women are second-class citizens.

 

Yes, I get that people want to take powerful women down just-a-peg by taking away women’s power if men think that women are too good for their own good.

 

Yes, sexual harassment, sexual abuse, sexual molestation, sexual assault and rape are all about power-and-control not about sex.

 

Yes, I may dress like a prude

and that doesn’t constitute

any man taking away my power as a woman.

 

In my own way I’ll get serious justice.

 

Watch this:

I’ll turn the tables.

 

The modern lookalike Hippies will no longer hold

any stake in the commerce of goods and services

In the business of organic and vegan goods forever more.

Venture capitalists will now take over the business

of certified organic and vegan goods.

 

Organic farmers won’t do business with modern lookalike Hippies

because it’s a community of sexual molesters, sexual predators and rapists. They thrive on the sexual abuse of their Caucasian women.

 

Yes, I’m sensual in my writings, photos and art, but not in life.

 

No, you may not touch me.

 

I get it.

I stay out of the social spotlight

so as not to have any sexually power-hungry men or women

hunt me down like a zebra in the forest.

 

Yes, I get it that it’s a dangerous world out there for women and men.

 

No, I’m not afraid, much less of men.

 

Yes, I generate my own power as every other responsible adult does.

 

Yes, my Finn elders believe that anytime a man rapes a woman that he ought to be castrated. Here! Here!

 

Yes, like Lara Logan I was in the wrong place at the wrong time working on a story.

 

Yes, it was my fault to place myself in a dangerous situation for a story. Yes, I get it! No, I don’t need pity. I’m after justice through the written language to get you to learn from my mistakes.

 

No, I’m still not happy about getting drugged up and having my breasts felt-up but I’ll get over it because if it would’ve been rape then I can actually say that I might’ve considered committing murder and lived-out a happy life behind bars, but no rape was committed and thus no murder was either.

 

I can think whatever I want but I can’t act out violence or murder. I know the difference between right and wrong. I’m a smart cookie and thankfully I get squeamish about killing bugs. I can’t seem to bring myself to kill bugs. I’ve cried whenever I’ve killed bugs.

 

 

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Literary Expressions:

 

Yes, I can get over having my breasts felt-up by the dirty-dead-Hippie heroin addict(s); but what I can’t seem to get over is that the one perpetrator kept whispering in my ear: “We’ve got you now: We’ll blackmail you for this.”

 

He kept saying the word “blackmail” over-and-over again, up to eight times while I could barely focus straight nor breathe-well while I was held down.

 

No, I don’t stalk any famous people because I know exactly what it’s like to be stalked in real life and blackmailed by scum.

 

I win! I’m not afraid to write it like it is.

 

He didn’t know that some of the closest people are Italian, African-American, Latino and Hmong gangsters, lobbyists, politicians, workers, elite, peers and equals. People who make the world go around behind the scenes. People who hold quiet power and ready to strike at any moment’s notice if need be.

 

I’ll get morally even for the remarks of “blackmail” more so than I will for having my breasts felt up.

 

A little bird told me everything that I needed to know: Thank you.

 

I got set-up to be taken down by an entire community of dirty-dead-Hippies on the West Bank who hated my guts for being better than most of them in all of life’s attributes.

 

Do you really think that I don’t have loyal people giving me information? Please. I know all, too, well how this game is played.

 

All I wanted to do was to place the Hippies in a great limelight, but they wanted to take me out with all of their might.

 

It’s so tragic for the dirty-dead-Hippie heroin addicts because the blue bloods and the elite always win. We’ve known this since the beginning of time. When the elite come after perpetrators they leave nothing but metaphorical ashes.

 

Thank the Gods I’m not after vengeance or there would be an entire “dead” community of power-hungry, dirty-dead-Hippies without any allegiance to each other. Freaks! Who doesn’t hold loyalties to their own?

 

Since I don’t care for revenge; only to get morally even then I get the last word. Run! Hide.

 

I’ve told my elite equals to leave the dirty-dead-Hippies alone, but to take away all of their social and business rights in exchange for protecting innocent Caucasian women who get sexually harassed, sexually molested and sexually assaulted and raped in that community.

 

The elite can “take out anyone in business” and since I’m not after revenge, I’m only to get morally even: I get my say.

 

Plus, the dirty-dead-Hippies steal from the till so it won’t mean much, now that the elite are after them in business. They’ll never reign supreme again in this town, not in the organics and vegan field. Venture capitalists will take over and make more money than the dirty-modern-hippies ever could since all they’re after is money and not really community although that’s what they preach. Their time came and went. Goodbye.

 

Want to play?

Let’s play ball.

We come from thousands of years of power.

 

I’m not afraid of getting blackmailed.

How does it feel to get fucked over?

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Yes, I’ll get what I’m after even if it takes… (No, no illegal actions.)

 

No, I’m not mad.

 

Yes, I can even laugh at myself.

 

Yes, I’ll get even. I’m smart.

 

Yes, I know all about Iowa women who get date-rape-drugs put into their drinks and raped in New York City. What a bunch of male-cowards.

 

What a beastly culture we live in.

 

Yes, I’ve been known to be someone who goes home by no later than 9:00pm the entire of my whole life with the exception of hanging out with respectful, kind and intelligent people.

 

Yes, the only times that I explored being out late well into the night was when I was doing research for a story about north, Minneapolis pimps and prostitutes and sex-predator-Hippies on the Riverside, Seward, West Bank (2009-2011).

 

Otherwise, I like to be home by no later than 8:00pm curled up with a book and a great cup of tea and Eric.

 

Yes, I did research well into the night in the years (2009-2011) because that’s when these two demographics of groups hang out late into the nights thus that’s where the story was at. I found it! There’s nothing there but devastation and desperation.

 

Yes, I know all that needs to be known about Twin Cities Metro Area underground sexual predators, sexual harassers, sexual molesters and rapists.

 

No, that night I wasn’t amongst friends.

 

Yes, I was amongst enemies who were going to take me down no matter what but I didn’t know it then until a bird told me later on. Know your enemies especially when they’re nice to your face but hate you because you’re not as lowbrow as they are and they’ll never go anywhere in life.

 

Yes, I’m grateful to have walked away with only having my breasts felt up.

 

Yes, in my notes I’ve written down stories from girls who were thirteen, fourteen and fifteen years of age, and so on and so forth and these stories will stupefy you with the brutality, rape and physical violence these girls live through on a daily basis by the hands of....

 

These girls are run-a-ways and homeless here in the Twin Cities Metro Area who work as sex slaves because they have absolutely no way to eat or shelter thus they exchange their bodies for sex mostly to upstanding and lowbrow men in our community. (No, I don’t know any names, but I’ve been told the stories. I had the girls describe these men to me so as to get a picture of what they were talking about.)

 

Yes, women do actually get sexually assaulted and don’t make it up.

 

Yes, men do actually get sexually assaulted and don’t make it up.

 

Are we on the same page? Good.

 

Peace,

Gabriel

 

April 3, 2013

 

Happy Wednesday!

Aloha.

 

Yes, I’m a giver.

I’m a giver because I like to give not because I need anything from you.

Yes, I drive like a Bostonian.

 

When I drive I’m in control and sober with both hands on the wheel and prepared for anything. I drive defensively cool smart.

 

No, when I drive I refuse to eat food, text or brush my hair.

If I need to be domestic then I’ll pull over.

 

My insurance premiums are better now than when I was 18, 25, or 34.

 

Yes, I drive a Saturn, not because I need to prove my penis size (figuratively speaking: No, I don’t have a physical penis).

 

I drive a Saturn because they’re the best proven cars in crash tests. A Saturn will save your lives because the frames are all steel and not some cheap plastics. I trust in the barons’ steel. They’re my equals.

 

If you can ever get your hands on a Saturn then now we’re talking.

 

If you want a luxury car without the bells-and-whistles but a car that handles like a thoroughbred then get your hands on a Saturn. Saturn cars are the best factually-proven cars on the road. It’s too bad they’re no longer manufactured, they were American made. What’s this country coming to?

 

I love driving sober because if I get pulled over then I can chuck it up to a “bad disposition” (just kidding) not because I’m an idiot, drunk or high. I drive like a real Bostonian woman in control of her life. Thank you very much.

 

Watch out for bicyclists on your blind spots, high or drunk pedestrians and bicyclists.

 

Sincerely,

Gabriel

 

April 2, 2013

 

“Much of what Tea Party candidates claimed about the world and the global economy during the 2010 elections would have earned their adherents a well-deserved F in any freshman economics (or earth science) class.” - Eric Alterman

 

Happy Tuesday!

Aloha.

 

Poetic Justice

 

*) Yes, grammatical corrections were made. Thank you very much. If I don’t write for about five days in a row then I get rusty and my English goes to hell. We all know this: thus this blog exists so that I may become a better writer of the English language as I practice my twenty-thousand hours of intermediate professional work.

 

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*) Now, it’s just been explained to me that “Minnesota Nice” stands for hypocrisy.

 

Thanks for finally explaining that to me: Just yesterday I learned that “Minnesota Nice” means that Minnesotans hate with the passion of hyenas due to envy and jealousy.

 

Mostly it means that mean-spirited Minnesotans will be extremely squeaky clean-nice to your face but as soon as you’re out of the room they’ll rip you apart, hate you and figure out a way to sabotage your wellbeing, friendships, livelihoods and everything else that they may envy and be jealous about you. Be careful. Some of these folks will go to extremes to take-out anybody especially when they’re insecure and self-loath yet they disguise it with a fake smile and…

 

-----  -----  -----

 

*) No, I’m not FBI. No, I’m not CIA. No, I’m not an undercover cop. No, I’m not a cop. No, I’m not a journalist. No, I’m not an informant. No, I’m not even an underwear model.

 

I believe in the legalization of all drugs and prostitution.

 

Tax the hell out of those goods and services because it would make far more money than tobacco and alcohol combined. People are hooked on all sorts of drugs in America because the CIA created that in the 1970’s through cocaine. Don’t think that those in suburbia-land don’t love their meth because they do.

 

Prohibition’s dead.

 

Let’s turn a new leaf and deal with the addictions head-on. Jail. Lick Yours. Jail is another form of enterprise not any type of justice system.

 

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

Within the next year Marijuana will be legalized in America.

 

I know my sources to be viable, what about yours?

 

My sources know far more than the news media ever could. No, I’m not bragging I’m tired of trying to prove “Minnesota Nice” only to come to find out that “Minnesota Nice” actually means something harmful and not what it represents in letters. It’s an oxymoron.

 

I hate Minnesota lies and that’s not an oxymoron.

 

I was such a sucker to believe and to prove “Minnesota Nice” to the many mean-spirited and cruel-power hungry Minnesotans because I didn’t know what it truly meant. I almost killed myself trying to be Nice to assholes. I’m catching on. I see.

 

Now, let’s play East Coast style. Checkmate. Eat Your Young. Eat Your Genitals. Eat out your hearts. Watch how this game is truly played. We call it “Cut Throat” in the East Coast and we come at our opponents from the front. We don’t stab anyone in the back because we’ve got balls. We don’t take others down. We simply take them out (figuratively speaking).

 

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I’m a private citizen and a documentary filmmaker.

 

If I’m lied to and strung along that we’re going to film but no-go because you want money from me and not collaboration, then I’m going to want your balls on a silver platter because I hate having my time wasted and people who only perceive me as a bank are the worse types of preachers because with one hand they preach and with the other they try to cup-a-feel. Dangerous people out there disguised as holistic preachers to get you to trust in them.

 

Yes, the West Bank, Riverside neighborhood and Seward neighborhood, has the highest per capita influx of sexual predators, sexual molestation, sexual assaults and rape in the Twin Cities Metro Area because heroin is prevalent in those pockets of neighborhoods, especially when it comes-in from Texas and New Orleans, ultimately Mexico.

 

Don’t be such suckers to their Caucasian dead-Hippie-peace loving organic rhetoric to get you to buy into their hidden underhanded agendas.

 

It’s the dirtiest cover-up in our Twin Cities Metro Area that has FBI surveillance on them for the past decade and so long as the dead-Hippies keep the drugs contained only to their neighborhoods then they can run freely to sexually harass, molest, assault and rape their women.

 

How do I know? I’ve spoken to way too many of those raped women who’ve gone crazy because of it. Caucasian women who got raped by Caucasian men who promised them friendship and an extended family, they might as well have joined a gang (not literally).

 

A lot of mental illness in that Twin Cities Metro Area but the impoverished women don’t have any other place to go except to continue to surround themselves in such destitute and desperation.

 

It took me two-full years to figure it out but when I did, holy, run for the hills and don’t look back. Literally, the “clinically diagnosed” insane thrive in those pockets of neighborhood because of two-decades of heavy drug use and no, we’re not talking marijuana either.

 

You only wish it were plants rather than synthetic drugs. I hate synthetic drugs because some crazy asshole mixes whatever the hell he wishes into a concoction and then, bam! Suddenly the judge’s kids are eating their genitals.

 

Tough love sure is tough.

I’m not here to be Nice.

I’m here to steer this ship from completely sinking into the ocean.

 

I believe in the legalization of all drugs and prostitution.

Enough’s enough.

Get it done.

 

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Anyone will barely understand the destroyed reasoning logic skills of those passive-aggressive dead-Hippies, dirty, hardened thirty-forty-fifty-some-things who practice Yoga, hipster burnouts in search of more power and money than venture capitalists or corporate America. These fools have no loyalty to anything much less to each other. Freaks! I said it. I even wrote it. Anyone who has no loyalties to their own is indeed a freak. No, I’m not a dirty Hippie. I’m a blue blooded middle income earner professional artist.

 

These neighborhoods specialize in the ability to reel-in our twenty-something-youth through organic / vegan rhetoric, drug-induced volunteerism and minimalist cardboard art to get our youth hooked on every bloody type of drug out there.

 

How do I know? I just do. I know what I’m talking about.

 

I didn’t pretend.

 

They all knew I was there to make a documentary about them (2009-2011) and every facet of their lives as a community until one night I was drugged and taken into a back room and had my breasts felt up. Ha! Fuck off. I feel no shame. I had to be incredibly smart about getting out of that risky situation. I thank my lucky stars for long-johns and smarts. How do you outsmart a fox? With far more intelligence than what he’s got. Watch me cut out their hearts! My turn.

 

No, I didn’t get raped or beat-up otherwise there would’ve been a man hanging from a lamppost (figuratively speaking). No, I’m not a flirt. Anybody who knows me knows that I don’t go out of my way to put my sexuality out there. Yes, I’m a prude in pants and sweaters.

 

When a women’s power is stolen then be very well prepared to lose everything.

 

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Oh, you guys are cute.

You’re as dense as door knobs when it comes to literary expression.

 

No, I don’t believe in stringing people up by lampposts.

 

Yes, I believe in the American judicial justice system.

 

Yes, I know all about Clayton, Jackson, McGhie history. (Look it up.)

 

How do I know?

 

I made a short documentary film in the year 2003 about the history of Clayton, Jackson, McGhie, three African-American men who on June 15, 1920 were unjustly lynched in Duluth, Minnesota due to mob rumors that a white teen girl had been raped by six black circus workers.

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It’s the ones that don’t touch the drugs that bring-in the drugs from Texas and distribute the drugs under the guise of cardboard art. A little bird in Texas told me everything. I’m more connected than you’ll ever get a clue from the tops of the trees to the pebbles in your shoes.

 

These types of cowardly buffoons are the most dangerous social drug dealers, social sexual predators and social rapists in the Twin Cities Metro Area: The Caucasian dirty street artists pretending to contribute to our communities. As if.

 

If they would’ve told me the truth from the very beginning then I wouldn’t be so mad about it now but the wrath of the gods has taken over.

 

I would take my chances (although not much) with north Minneapolis pimps and prostitutes any day than I would with ex-Catholic, dirty-horny, thirty-forty-and-fifty year old-hippies who want our youth to fall down the rabbit hole and rape them in the name of organic / veganism. Careful. “Cuidado” as the Costa Ricans will inform you.

 

Next Stop: New York City:

 

The Following Stop: Costa Rica:

 

I’m taking Costa Rica back from the dead-Minneapolis Hippies who starve our peasants, sleep with our Ticas and dump them out on the streets.

 

The Last Stop: Minneapolis on my way back: I’m taking Minneapolis back for the same reasons that hatred, disrespect and brutalization of women thrives here and in Costa Rica by the hand of the same dirty-dead-Hippies. Bastards! A little bird in Costa Rica and New Orleans told me everything.

 

Drug dealing is one thing but the brutalization of women is quite another.

 

Be careful, if women wanted to take men out of the game then they would take over men’s enterprises, so women can feed, clothe and school their young. Women are far more sadistic and ruthless than men ever could be especially, when it comes to our young and our communities.

 

Sincerely,

Gabriel

 

My turn. Run! I get to use a metaphorical machete and I’m great with it, too.

 

My dead friend (literally) (who was their dead-Hippie leader) came to me in a dream and told me no-holds-barred, tell it all as I know it to be my truth and tell it quickly before...

 

The panther thrives and kills those in disguise.

 

April 1, 2013

 

Happy April Fool’s Day 2013!

Aloha.

 

Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay.

 

Gosh, you guys really don’t forget anything, do you?

Okay, I’m officially on vacation and doing absolutely...

 

Mental Notes:

 

*) Okay, I may have to file e-mail bankruptcy.

 

I’ve made it through roughly about six-thousand and counting e-mails since last summer (2012). I’ve got about a thousand to go. I’m making headway. If I get through all of them before May 1, 2013 then I may keep our public e-mail account open, but something’s got to give. Thank god, you guys don’t have my phone number or imagine how many…

 

*) Okay, you want to know what I think about foreign exchange students studying in the Twin Cities Metro Area, hit-and-run bicyclists and nasty pedestrians with death wishes.

 

*) About foreign exchange students studying in the Twin Cities Metro Area: I love them! I want them to visit and live here as much as they see fit. It’s a great place to live and study and that’s why we live here, pay taxes and contribute to this incredible Twin Cities Metro Area aside from the ghetto, “hood.”

 

Now, I’m not okay with foreign exchange students going home in body bags due to hit-and-runs in the Twin Cities Metro Area. Nope.

 

Could you imagine having your beautiful children go home in body bags after studying abroad because some driver hit them and killed them upon the streets of Minneapolis / St. Paul? Oh, my god!

 

As a parent I’d be beside myself, forever.

 

Imagine sending our beautiful children to foreign countries to study abroad and have them come home in body bags? I’d lose my mind. Please.

 

The greatest aspect of any cultural exchange is for foreign exchange students to visit, live and learn amongst us. What else greatest is there in the world but that? Nothing!

 

Growing up we had foreign exchange students from Sardinia and Borneo who lived with us and we loved them as our own flesh and blood.

 

I couldn’t imagine if our foreign exchange students had gone home in body bags because they’d gotten hit by a car upon our streets. How do you tell those incredible parents about such a loss that their children are now dead? You can never make it up to them. I would’ve lost my heart through that if my brothers and sisters would’ve died upon the streets of Minneapolis due to a hit-and-run.

 

*) You want to know what I think about hit-and-runs: One too many is one too many.

 

I think that as a Twin Cities Metro Area, we need to get our house in order.

 

It’s been brought to my attention that: the legal justice system is too tough upon those involved in hit-and-runs of our pedestrians and bicyclists traveling our streets.

 

The main reason as to why Twin Cities drivers don’t stop upon the basis of hit-and-runs is because of the strict laws that take away drivers’ livelihoods and their entire freedoms; even when drivers may not be drunk yet they may make grave mistakes while driving due to stress or extreme exhaustion.

 

In the Twin Cities Metro Area: not only do bicyclists not follow the rules and regulations of the roads but drivers can barely make out bicyclists especially starting at dusk and well into the nighttime.

 

I don’t understand why bicycle lanes aren’t painted in bright primary colors for drivers to differentiate between roads and bicycle lanes.

 

I’ve been harping on this for close to five years but people just want to pet me on-the-head and feed-me-cookies.

 

Splatter vibrant colors all over those bicycle lanes!

It’s time!

Let’s go!

It’s not about politics or aesthetics.

It’s about the lives of our bicyclists.

 

Vibrant paint is a simple solution to an extraordinary difficult hit-and-run problem we’ve got in our Twin Cities Metro Area.

 

If you’re a driver and you’re making a right-hand turn then first and foremost look before making a right-hand turn and see if you’ve got bicyclists on your blind spot. Always!

 

*) As for the Twin Cities Metro Area death wish pedestrians: Now that it’s getting warm, these fools jump out in front of traffic.

 

If you’re a pedestrian and you jump out in front of moving traffic, then you’re toast. Moving traffic can hit crazy rabid pedestrians. It’s pedestrians’ fault for not crossing at the pedestrian crosswalks and causing accidents. If pedestrians die because they don’t follow the laws and regulations of the road then it’s their fault.

 

Please keep in mind that the Twin Cities Metro Area has a high influx of heroin, cocaine, meth and pharmaceutical drug addicts upon our streets, especially north Minneapolis, the West Bank and the Seward neighborhood; thus be careful of irresponsible and high pedestrians and bicyclists.

 

Know this: as drivers if pedestrians jump out in front of your car (which many do in front of our car on a daily basis in the warm weather) then know that these pedestrians are endangering your lives.

 

As drivers you may run over them so as not to put yourself at risk or the drivers behind you. You may run over rabid / high and crazy pedestrians as you would deer or moose. Period.

 

*) No, I don’t believe in vehicular homicide.

 

It’s been a tremendous loss to the Twin Cities Metro Area how many incredible humans we’ve lost in the past two-decades. It’s a tremendous loss. It makes me ill just thinking about it. We must respect each other, share the roads and live as we would any other respectful civilization.

 

*) If you’re driving then, please drive five miles slower than the speed limit within the city limits. We’ve got children and youth; the most tremendous difficulty is that our youth who play out on the streets, they can’t seem to hear electric cars coming and going, so slow down and watch out for our most valuable resource, our people.

 

*) If you’re going to be a tourist traveling throughout our Twin Cities Metro Area or Minnesota then visit on your own accord. We must put our house in order before we can welcome guests.

 

*) As much as I love tourists, it’s not time yet. Give us the next year to get our hit-and-runs down to zero. Thank you. We do appreciate tourist dollars but not when tourists’ lives are endangered.

 

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“Yes, but are you even Nice?”

 

What a stupid question.

 

Who cares if someone is “Nice” or not.

All that matters is: if someone is respectful or not.

Tough love has nothing to do with “Nice.”

 

The Minnesotans get stuck on “Nice”

because they’re afraid to do the right thing by others.

 

I don’t care if you think I’m “Nice” or not,

however I’m one of the most respectful people you’ll ever come across

even when I’ve had people spit upon my face, (literally.)

 

Minnesotans and their “Nice.”

Please.

Grow up.

 

If you think I’m a bitch then go ahead and think it.

Even my enemies will tell you that I’ve come in the name of love.

 

My friends will tell you that I’m all too sweet for my own good.

I’ve let myself be taken advantage of

because I wanted to prove that I was “Minnesota Nice.”

Lick Yours.

 

I’ve had peers shun me, economically destroy me,

stepped on me and came back for more.

I’m not The Giving Tree.

 

I’ve held my own as well as I could with only a sword and now with...

Time-and-time again,

I’ve dished out tough love

because it was the right thing to do

and not the “Nice” thing to do.

 

Please.

Don’t gross me out.

 

Power.

Do you really think that I’m after power?

Think again.

 

Gosh.

We’re not even in the same ballpark, are we?

 

If that were the case, then I wouldn’t be writing this.

 

I’m after understanding and equality

for you and your children’s future.

 

Yes, I’m the last of Seven Elite Generations.

I’m at the end of 1660.

No, I’m not Shakespeare.

With me dies…

 

I’m closer to the first generation than ever.

With my children starts a new lineage.

Our family’s friends go as far back as 1660.

 

For as long as I’m alive

they hold allegiance and loyalty to our family

and not to you or yours.

Be careful.

 

By-and-by, New Yorkers take care of their own:

I so happen to be one of them

dating back seven generations.

They tell me your secrets and lies.

 

If I wanted power

I would’ve taken it a long time ago.

 

You don’t know how this game is played, do you?

How do I know?

You’ve never been asked to sit down at the table with us.

 

No, I may not be “Nice,” but I’m fair and kind.

If you say otherwise,

then all those around you, they’ll know you lie.

 

 

Peace.

Gabriel

 

April 1, 2013

 

“We've switched from a culture that was interested in manufacturing, economics, politics - trying to play a serious part in the world - to a culture that's really entertainment-based.” - Stephen King

 

Happy Monday!

Happy Easter Monday!

Aloha.

 

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