Wednesday, November
27, 2013
On Greed:
“If you grasp too much, you cannot hold it;
when you take a little you can.”
“More die from over eating than from under
eating.”
“If you look for cake, you’ll lose your
head.”
“What is grabbed will be lost.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Intrepid (fearless, not shaking or trembling,
dauntless)
The intrepid hero was given a great
ovation when he came home.
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Psalm 23:4
1 The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
he leadeth me beside the still waters.
3 He restoreth my soul:
he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness
for his name's sake.
4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of
the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
5 Thou preparest a table before me in the
presence of mine enemies:
thou anointest my head with oil;
my cup runneth over.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for
ever.
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Catch 22
To
Our Dearest American low-wage / slave-wage workers; “forgive them for they know
not what they do.” And then they threw down the dice and gambled for Jesus’
shroud while the Roman soldiers got drunk and poked spears into his side, long
after the sun went down. (What a horrific tale of corporate America.)
Our
dearest American low-wage / slave-wage Brothers and Sisters; you’re not alone in these desperate
American corporate / consumer times.
As for those of us who understand the deepest
of corporate manipulation and cunning, we also understand that our valuable
low-wage workers are caught in the middle of a greedy war of false idols. May Godspeed.
Let me begin with the following; if no
one in corporate leaderless America is going to say it then I will; I’m sorry that our starving low-wage
workers are made to suffer at the hands of the corporate and greedy CEO’s and
shareholders without any sort of moral compass or core values.
What a terrible time in America to be
low-income / wage-slave workers in which
our very own “working class” and “blue collar” and “working poor” ever so
stupidly sit outside in the cold and wait for some irresponsible corporate
stores to give them the cheapest deals of
the year just so that our ‘poorest consumers’ may save a few bucks while
the rest of the year the corporations choke the life out of them, just as well.
I could stop here; I made my point but
I’m here to bring solace, strength and strong / quiet leadership to those
low-income and wage-slave workers who are ever so abhorred by their CEO’s who
‘rake in’ about $16.1 million dollars per annual income salaries, plus health
benefits and, and, and...
What
is there to be said for those irresponsible corporate multi-millionaire CEO’s
of ‘Toys“R”Us’, Marshalls, Wal-Mart, Target, Best Buy, Kmart, J.C.Penney,
Macy’s and Staple’s? Nothing. (Ouch.)
Except that their companies must either be
hard up or ignorant or mean-spirited or devilish or greedy or hateful of the human race or the devil
incarnate. (Pick one.)
If
I were to make the decision to stay closed on Thanksgiving; Yes, if I were to make the decision then
as a corporate CEO I’d make the right decision such as those of Costco’s CEO’s
and Menards who made the correct decision to stay closed on Thanksgiving
because they know and they understand
all, too, well that National Holidays are meant to be a time for naps, food, a
break from the ‘hustle-and-bustle’ and time to relax by yourselves or
surrounded by beloved ones. Period.
I’m
totally surprised that corporate CEO’s are allowed to economically ‘rape’ their
low-wage and slave-wage workers into shamelessly forcing them to work on a
major Holiday, no matter how much time
and a half CEO’s may pay their low-wage workers; those irresponsible CEO’s
are never going to make up for the
time lost away from families, children and elderly and downtime.
These corporate CEO’s and ‘shareholders’ are
the thieves of American familial values and relaxation to drink and be merry.
I bet you a hot coco with lots of whip cream
on top that you’re not going to catch a junior or senior corporate
executive ‘lending a hand’ and on the floors of those stores over the
Thanksgiving Holiday because their fat asses are already hidden away in some
cabin in the woods, licking their wounds away
that the “Middle Class” and the “Upper Class” hates their guts for making the
‘wrong’ decisions over those without a voice, power and money.
There’s nothing uglier than a fat cat who
can’t make the right choices and the right decisions in the overall wellness
and kindness for their subordinates.
To be a fat cat, with a fat ass, who can’t imagine the severity, the
devastation and the heartache in which to be ripped apart from families on a
National Holiday is to have the cold stone heart of ‘Scrooge’ and that
nastiness catches up with one sooner than later.
The angels keep score and they know
everything that we do.
The Gods laugh in the face of such desperate
corporate CEO Scrooges without a heart because the Gods know that when our
irresponsible corporate Brothers and Sisters stop taking their responsibilities
seriously, to the culture at large,
and turn into demons, quietly, cunningly and divisively then they don’t stand a
chance at the afterlife because they chose to ‘sell out’ instead of ‘doing the
right thing’ for other humans in dire need of their families, beloved ones and
friends over this National Holiday.
Cash in your chips and say
‘goodnight’ to your beloved ones because it’s going to be a bumpy ride in your
sleep.
I
love the story of mean old Scrooge in “A Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens
because just when you think that nasty mean old fart is going to get away with
raping, pillaging and destroying culture then bam!
Three spirits come to Scrooge in his sleep
and he realizes a few things: a) He’s life of wealth has been for nothing
because he’s a mean old, ugly, empty soul and vessel without anyone to really
love b) He’s made all of the wrong choices and decisions which lead him to kill
his heart, early on c) He hates with the passion of demons, especially his
subordinates who are kind and friendly to him simply because he’s a quiet and
contemptuous ‘loose cannon’ and no one cares if he were to live or die d) He
hasn’t been ‘laid’ in five decades and that makes a nasty old man out of him
because all the money in the world isn’t going to buy him love e) “You can’t
take it with you” (Ha!) (How’s that for a
summary? I could write book jackets. Just
kidding.)
I love “A Christmas Carol” for so many
reasons but mainly because by the end of the story, no matter how much Mr.
Scrooge still feels a slight sense of greediness the morning after his
visitations, he still realizes, that it took the three spirits to wake him up from his slumberous sleep of
a wasted life. (Ouch.)
It takes the past, present and what could be:
to give Mr. Scrooge the ultimate ultimatum: either get it together and share
his good fortune, wealth and get kind about it or go to the place where all souls ‘never’ rest. (Yikes.) Yes, Sir!
Could you imagine three spirits calling upon
you in your sleep to get you to wake up to your senses and become a decent and
respectable human being?
What a wasted life to be so ignorant and
uncouth to so many but particularly to his subordinates who are so kind,
respectful and well wishing of Scrooge no matter how cruel he is to them.
Look: Like any other adult; I’ve lost
significantly in my life but like mud if that keeps me from turning into a sour
mean old Scrooge.
I’m so surprised as to why some of America’s
CEO’s and shareholders have turned into Scrooges? Why are they so cruel, vicious
and mean?
I can’t imagine that it’s all about the money
when most of their part-time employees barely make $9,744 dollars on minimum
wage without any health care coverage for themselves and their families, while
our low-wage workers must work three part-time jobs just to put bread on the
table and a roof over their little babies’ heads.
God, you guys could almost bring me to tears
but I have work to do and thus up and onwards we go on this joy ride.
Do tell me: What’s happened to America?
Why
does our government allow for corporations to get away with this type of
cruelty?
Since,
corporations are persons: wouldn’t we stop a man from beating another man
senseless upon our streets? (Don’t answer that.)
Since,
corporations are persons: wouldn’t we stop a man from robbing another man
blind?
Since,
corporations are persons: wouldn’t we stop a man from starving another man from
his keep?
Since,
corporations are persons: wouldn’t we stop a man from starving another man’s
children?
Show us, that America still has a moral
compass and core values, no matter how much our “working poor” and “blue
collar” and “working class” refuses to stop and consider their low-wage
Brothers and Sisters while they slave away on Thanksgiving Day.
Show us, that this is still the land of the free and the brave.
Show us, that this is still the land in
which all men are created equal.
Show us, anything good to get us to believe in this land of ours, once
again.
No,
don’t tell us anything.
Be
quiet.
We’re
tired of the damn lies.
Show us, that this is still the land of
the Pilgrims.
Show us, that we can unite as One Nation Under God and boycott these
nine nasty Scrooge corporations for one single day, Thanksgiving Day 2013,
2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020 and...
Show us, that
we can unite as One Nation Under God and
boycott these nine nasty Scrooge corporations that one decade ago outsourced
our jobs to Mexico, China and India while for the rest of the year corporations
sell those very outsourced products back to us at steep prices and large chunks
of land in the United States of America are sold to China from right under our
noses.
Please, little ones, what are you thinking?
You’re not.
Wake up, I
whisper to you with all of the power of your Viking Ancestors.
Don’t let them ‘lick us’ ever so quietly.
If they’re going to lick us, at least, we won’t go down without an
ideological and boycott fight because we represent the ‘working man’ of any
Nation who’d give their right arm for a chance at democracy.
Show us, that we can unite as One Nation Under God.
At
least, in America we believe in ‘worker’s rights’ and that’s what makes us so
damn bloody incredible if we can
stand together against the corporate pressure and the shiny devilish objects
dangled before us.
We’re stronger than that.
We’re better than that, damn it.
‘We take care of our own’ because, otherwise no one else will.
We care about our low-wage / slave-wage
workers because if we don’t speak up for them then when it happens to us, no
one will speak up for us.
We must not allow for the cycle of corporate
malice, malevolence and CEO and shareholder cruelty to continue.
We can’t let that happen to this great Nation that’s bled, cried and
sweat for a little bit of bread just so that we can break it together one day
out of the year.
In
other words, why have Americans become such suckers
when we’re so smart? I don’t think so.
Nope. Not here.
We’re not idiots, are we? Nope.
Why
do we rush out to purchase cheap
products that stole our very way and quality of life and starved our American
babies?
What gives?
Are we such ignorant Peoples?
I don’t think so.
We’re simply misinformed.
Don’t you know how this game is played?
You
buy Chinese products at a low cost on Thanksgiving Day and the rest of the year
you have to make up for the low prices sold to you once a year while the
consumer blindly forces the wage-slave workers to be torn away from their
families, beloved ones, and homes. Duh! What cruelty indeed.
Show us, that the consumer still has
boycott power over greedy corporations.
Are we going to let corporations ‘lick us’
with their sly ways? Nope.
Are we going to let corporations rob us of
our American way of life? Nope.
I mean really.
We know a thing or two about competition don’t we?
Yes, we do.
Go get ‘em Americans!
On Thanksgiving Day fight the urge to buy
anything at a store or online.
On Thanksgiving Day eat, laugh and be merry!
On Thanksgiving Day drink apple cider with
whip cream.
On Thanksgiving Day get tipsy and laugh but
don’t drive drunk.
On Thanksgiving Day watch a movie, read a
book, rake the leaves.
On Thanksgiving Day shovel snow.
On Thanksgiving Day make love.
On Thanksgiving Day stay in your pajamas all
day long.
On Thanksgiving Day come up with a new hairdo
for the new year.
On Thanksgiving Day gather together all the
clothes you’d like to donate.
On Thanksgiving Day play a board game.
On Thanksgiving Day sleep most of the day
away, if you can. Yummy!
On Thanksgiving Day relax and do nothing and
be thankful that you’re not living in cold Pilgrims’ log cabins, chopping wood
and barely finding anything to eat and on the brink of starvation.
On Thanksgiving Day just be…
Americans prove to each other that we’re not
Scrooges!
With Love; (I gave you everything that I
had.)
Now, I need a well deserved nap.
Cheers; (I raise a glass to your health,
intelligence and kindness.)
Gabriel
Word count: 2,153
Tuesday, November 26,
2013
“Too beautiful is sometimes a fault.”
“What good is beauty without luck?”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Foment (to arouse, cause, incite)
To foment trouble is not
characteristic of a gentleman.
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Yes, corrections were made.
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Mr. Ben Elton
Yes,
I normally abhor musicals with a passion because as the critics have pointed
out, indeed, “We Will Rock You” is “shallow” and so on and so forth, however,
it was the music that moved me to the deepest places of my core vibrations.
Yes,
indeed I’d rather pay seventy-five bucks to go and watch great musicians play
Queen’s music and Ruby Lewis sing, instead of a musical any day of the week
(hands down).
However, I support anything that Ben Elton touches because I believe in his genius and
all of the little socio-political and socio-cultural digs he gets in and you
know that those statements will sit in the audience’s subconscious forevermore
and it’s worth every penny to us to have ‘knuckleheads’ think about the future.
Yes,
we caught many technical mistakes but that’s only because we’re professional
broadcast engineers and some of the ‘nerdiest’ in the business.
[When the electromagnetic pulse (EMP) comes
crashing through the airwaves, we’ll be able to put you back in business with a
shoelace, a wire and a tube. (Ha!) No joke. (I’m not very good at terminology but I know what things are and how
to work them and if need be then we can fix them which is an invaluable skill
set.)
I no longer work as a broadcast engineer, per
say, but I was a part of the movement that got the Twin Cities up and running
on High Definition back in 2006. How splendid.
We did that for the Twin Cities because we’ve always
kept ‘ahead of the curve.’ One High Def deck costs one-hundred thousand dollars
and it was an expensive operation to get the Twin Cities into the future of
broadcast but it was worth every penny.
It’ll be the techies who’ll get this country
back up and running if it ever were
to shutdown and we can do that because that’s our background and our professional
standing for over forty years in this broadcast Television business.
Don’t ever give up on analogue.]
Yes,
even though we catch every single mistake, we’ll
go there with any performance and give it ‘the benefit of the doubt’
because we know exactly what it’s like to run a multi-billion dollar operation.
We just do.
The
only time I cringed was when Jacqueline B. Arnold’s microphone was off and it
was obvious that the audience couldn’t hear what she was singing because of
audio levels were off and all I could do was sit back in my seat and pretend like it wasn’t happening to her and
hoped that she’d take it like a professional, which she did. Calmly.
Yes,
we caught it, also, the helmets but I won’t go there because it would be rude
of me and I don’t want to line dry the dirty technical laundry in front of the
entire world. Moving on.
Yes,
I think that Mr. Ben Elton is not only brilliant, honest, straight forward and
hilarious but also quite politico and socio-culturally attune indeed.
I think that Mr. Elton has 'a finger on the
pulse' of culture and understands all too well what’s happened to us as docile
and scared Peoples, especially after nine-eleven.
If
you ever get the chance to see this man do stand-up comedy then go and cash in
your piggy bank’s savings, pennies and nickels and purchase a ticket to one of
the most extraordinary and fabulous of times in a theatre as you watch the
bright light of an incredibly brilliant human radiate truth unto this world.
(Yes, I could gush and allow for me to do so…
because I’m neither going out of my way to meet Mr. Elton nor do I need to kiss
his ass when I’m a lucky dog and get my three square meals a day. I, too, work
for a living and I don’t need anything from anyone that I don’t know. Thank you
very much.)
I’m
not so sure as to why the British posh abhor Mr. Ben Elton’s work when his
literary gifts have been nothing but short of a miracle.
I’m sure I can ‘give it a good stab in the
dark’ as to why the British posh abhor what he writes and creates.
Let me take one guess: classism?
Oh, I ‘hit it on the nail,’ didn’t I?
I most certainly did.
Aside
from the classism, one must give credit
where credit is due, even if one were
to hate the man, himself, and especially a literary modern genius such as
Mr. Ben Elton, one, must still be ‘a good sport’ about it.
Don’t you know what Mr. Ben Elton has
contributed to the world?
Please, tell me that you know. Of course, you
do.
It would be like the Americans hating Stephen
King because he wasn’t born East Coast blue blooded. Please. Don’t be so insulting as all that.
Some of Mr. Ben Elton’s written contributions
for Television are as followed in no particular order: “The Young Ones,”
“Al-fresco,” “Happy Families,” “Blackadder 2,” “Filthy Rich & Catflap,”
“Saturday Live,” “Blackadder the Third,” “Friday Night Live,” “Blackadder Goes
Forth,” “Ben Elton The Man From Auntie,” and “The Thin Blue Line.”
I haven’t listed his other accomplishments in
the form of novels and standup.
No,
I can’t stand “The Young Ones” because it closely resembles real life and it
leaves a terrible taste in my mouth however I can give all the credit in the
world to Mr. Ben Elton for creating something all, too, true and a reflection
of young people and their woes centered around the decade of the 1980’s.
The main reason as to why I can’t stand the
Tele show “The Young Ones” is because it reminds me of the horrible politics
and policies former president Ronald Reagan implemented and created an “MTV
generation” of starving punks, “latch key kids,” and took away lunch programs
from kids that needed it most, along with former Prime Minister Margaret Hilda
Thatcher, who did the same thing to Britain’s 1980’s youth.
The reason as to why punks exist at all,
today, is because Ronald Reagan and Margaret Hilda Thatcher created such a
culture of a ‘forgotten generation,’ the
MTV generation.
Punks are their creation, to the world at
large and these two remarkably ‘out of touch’ politicians, must swallow that
creation to the grave just as every mad scientist must swallow his
Frankenstein; (which by the way Frankenstein is supposed to represent kindness
and innocence, go reread your ‘cliff notes’ and get it right this time.)
I can’t stand the destruction, madness and
filth of the characters in “The Young Ones.” I can barely get through one
episode without looking away. It’s one of Eric’s favorites so I go there with him but my stomach turns
each and every time.
As
for “The Thin Blue Line” I can’t drink almond milk and eat chocolate chip
oatmeal cookies while I watch or it’ll come spilling out through my nose from
hard laughter. No eating anything while I watch comedy!
I can barely contain my laughter when we
watch this show. It’s too funny, silly and the main character ‘weirds me out’
yet I can’t look away from the character’s “train wreck.”
I’m
grateful that Mr. Ben Elton has bestowed upon culture his literary gifts
because without him the Western world wouldn’t be the same or who we are without harsh and difficult
reflections to swallow down with historical commentary in the aftertaste of bad
stomach acid that won’t stay down.
Now,
I can actually understand hating someone’s creations, however, what I can’t
ever seem to reason out is as to why
anyone ought to ever hate the creator.
Isn’t that a bit crude and ignorant? Indeed.
I’ve
been informed that one of the main reasons as to why the upper class or
Britain’s posh are disgusted by their Son,
Ben Elton is because he’s not like them (in other words he’s working class) and
as a comedian he can get away with stating ‘his truth’ about what he perceives
the world to be and there’s nothing that they can do about that.
I’m bewildered that British posh are as
snobbish and shallow as all that.
I’m shocked that they’re such snobs when
literary brilliance belongs to them in the form of their Nation’s Son. One
would think that they’d have better taste, articulation and understanding for
contemporary literary brilliance.
It must be the age, in which we live in that those who don’t or won’t create anything worth a valuable contribution to
humanity abhor the creators but not their creations and that’s backwards
thinking, that’s ‘dark ages’ thinking.
Allow for me to be the greatest East Coast
blue blooded snob all around; please don’t “kill the messenger” because to create something from nothing is to
give birth to thought and that’s not quite as easy as it looks, otherwise you
would’ve tried it a long time ago.
Don’t you know, to embrace your creative Sons
and Daughters no matter what their class system?
How revolting, how insane, how ludicrous and
how mundane to turn one’s back upon their own, simply because he speaks his truth to the masses.
His writing, then, must feel more like a hard
slap across the mouths of the upper class, each and every time he writes to his
beloved Britain, while the British posh spew out their hatred of him and his
works along with the taste of blood upon their lips.
Well,
I can tell you this; Mr. Ben Elton
isn’t crying all the way to the bank because 15 million people have seen “We
Will Rock You” around 17 countries and the show banked $1.05 billion dollars (I
wasn’t listening all too closely but after one billion all those zeros start to
look the same to me) in just a little over a decade.
I think that Mr. Ben Elton is indeed laughing his ass off all the way to the
bank no matter how much the British upper class may hate his guts or his work
and as a matter of fact I do believe that he’s now the upper class, thus I’d be
more mindful with the insults.
In conclusion; today’s lesson is that
one may hate the work but one may not hate the creator.
We no longer live in the ‘dark ages’ even
though it feels like it much of the time. It’s not okay to be so crude as all
that. It’s not okay to implement social ‘witch hunts’ and want to derail
people’s careers simply because we hate their intelligent brilliance. And, if they’re not brilliant well, then,
they just suck and everybody knows
it.
It’s one thing to hate those who create
entertainment through violence, rape and murder of women because it’s the ‘fun’
or ‘lazy’ thing to produce along with filthy content but it’s quite another to
hate a creator who’s intelligent brilliance resonates with our very own, as
audience appreciators.
If creators aren’t willing to ‘stick out
their necks’ for the rest than nothing much will get accomplished and we have
so much work to get done in the decades to come because many of us will retire
within the next five decades and that’s when we’ll really start to produce our
masterpieces.
Mr. Ben Elton may cross the pond anytime he wishes
and become America’s Son because we’ve kept an eye on his fabulous work for
close to two decades and even though “We Will Rock You” isn’t perfect, it still
fulfills the outdated KISS.
Keep It Stupid Simple for American audiences yet leave them wanting
for more, and make sure to get your socio-political and socio-cultural digs in
so that the ‘knuckleheads’ never
forget that they, too, have a responsibility to the future creators, innovators
and thinkers. (Ha!) Cheers!
You do know that ‘KISS’ is no longer
acceptable, because, well, American audiences are way smarter than most
producers nowadays. Right? Right.
Best Wishes;
Gabriel
R.I.P. JFK
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R.I.P. Dick
Wallack
(Yes,
Eric worked closely with Dick as his Director.
Both
men held a close and professional working relationship as most professional
relationships are in this Television business even if no one wants to admit it.
Techies and cast do mix because we can trust each other to do well by each
other even though everybody’s
competing ‘to get a leg up’ above the rest or if talent is cruel then no one
cares if they live or die.)
May his soul rest in peace.
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Note:
No, my family wasn’t Puritan.
We’re W.A.S.P.; “White Anglo-Saxon
Protestant.”
Work count: 2,105
Monday, November 25,
2013
“Beauty fades, but a good name endures.”
“The beautiful is not dear; but the dear is
beautiful.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Fortuitous (accidental, happening by chance)
He gained his fortune in a fortuitous
manner.
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Yes, corrections were made.
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“We Will Rock You”
Music and Lyrics
Queen
Story and Script
Ben Elton
No,
this shan’t be a musical review of “We Will Rock You” because I’m neither a
theatre critic nor do I pretend to be one nor do I care to become one. (Thank
you very much.)
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We
sure got rocked on Saturday’s matinee
at 2:00 p.m. at the Orpheum Theatre in downtown, Minneapolis, Minnesota.
It was a fantastic and well spent time.
Since, we’re ‘old people’ we make it a point
to go to events earlier in the daytime so that we get home before the sun goes
down, climb into pajamas, eat an ‘early Finn supper’ (on weekends by 4:00 or
5:00 p.m.) and watch a film all before eight at night.
I love getting older with each passing year.
I’ve given myself more reasons to get out
earlier in the afternoons than in the evenings and I make it a point to be home
by no later than 8:00 p.m. on weeknights.
I’m no longer ‘young’ and I don’t ever want
to be young again. I’m young in spirit but in body I’m aging and it’s an
incredible metamorphosis indeed.
One thing is for certain; we are born, we
live, we age, we die.
Youth is overrated, plus as you get older you
may not have your looks but you sure do have money and wealth to spend it on
human comforts and that’s all I care about.
No, I haven’t broken my ten year boycott of
plays (2020).
A musical isn’t a dry-and-cut, boring,
irritating and mean-spirited play that everybody
hates with rude front desk personnel; it’s a ‘song and dance’ performance
that can either leave one with inspiration or ready to…
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The
First Act left me wondering if the spirit of Mr. Mercury hovered over the
audience and my eyes filled with water and I believed that his spirit became
present in those fleeting seconds in the introduction of Virtual High School.
(No, I
don’t tend to cry in public. I’ve got way, too, much of a stiff upper lip for
such nonsense and if I do cry in public then it’s because I’m exhausted and
irritated and I can’t seem to make sense out of the manipulative and cunning
miscommunication going on between parties, which it doesn’t happen any longer
because I retired from documentary filmmaking, all together.)
I lost moments of my life during the First Act.
As
I sat in my seat and thought about Freddie Mercury’s soul, his spirit and life,
I swelled up with immense compassion and deepest emotion for the many gifts
this man bestowed upon societal culture and history at large.
I lost track of space and time while my only
thoughts were with a man larger than life
who endured so much for his music, his friendships, his family and eventually
his health.
I
became ever so still and quietly overwhelmed with emotion to consider this man
for the true and real angel that he is. I thought I could feel an immense sense
of love as I sat there and imagined Freddie Mercury smiling down upon the
performers and crew and a theatre full of “Q-Tips”.
As I looked around at a sea of ‘white heads’
I realized that the music must mean ‘the world’ to their generation and that
their intrinsic youth still lingered on with the smells of baby powder mixed in
with foot sweat worn by stockings instead of real socks and stiff inexpensive
alcohol on their breath.
For me, it was the real, live music that
caught a hold of my soul and held me suspended above myself for over two hours.
It was the music and the all
dressed-in-black musicians who played real instruments that became
‘stage-center-front’ for me, throughout the entire performance, even though the
musicians were kept hidden by a scrim, on a platform, much of the time.
I felt the thunderous clap of emotion inside
my chest while they carried on and played with finesse, integrity and musical
superiority.
I sensed that the musicians were the ‘real
deal’ and because of that reason, alone, they earned my deepest regard and
respect.
They shall have my respect until they become
old men and tell their grandkids their stories about touring and playing the music of ‘the greats’ in a musical
titled, “We Will Rock You.” Indeed. Thank you. (May Godspeed and return you
safely to your families because so much can go wrong on the road. I would know. I researched the lives of
‘roadies’ and ‘riggers’ for two long and arduous years while I went undercover
and pretended to be ‘stagehand’.) (Ha!)
The
makeup and wardrobe, the lighting, the stage setup and even the stage
management were all well executed, professional and well done. I liked it all.
I felt like a kid in a candy shop and happily overwhelmed by trying to catch
sight of everything that moved across the stage.
No,
I don’t mind, if I miss a thing, here or there, because I’m smart enough to
consider any stage setup and recall it upon my peripheral view from memory.
No, I don’t need everything ‘spelled out’ for me because I like to remember and
think about a live performance for days, weeks and months afterwards and recall
little details that I missed out, the first time around. The more I recall,
then the more I remember the little details. It’s so much fun!
I can remember details like how a pleated
gray skirt swirled and that a male performer wore it instead of a female and
how it caught me off guard and I liked to get challenged in such a fashion.
I can recall the intricate patterns and
articulate bright colors of any cast member’s hairdo in their performance. I
can recall the different beautiful body types and navels of performers as their
outfits showed off their athletic bodies.
I can recall…we’ll see what happens months
from today.
Aside,
from all of the fine performances and creative details, I was amazed at the
great sound and light quality as well as the articulation in the singing voices
of the performers.
You don’t know what that
means to me to hear real singers, sing, in an era in which hardly any ‘pop
star’ can sing (for real), much less without lip-synch.
The reason as to why so many pop stars
lip-synch is because they can’t really
sing. They’re not very good and since they sell millions of singles then they
can’t come out in the open and ‘spill
the beans’ about the fact that they’re talentless hacks and everybody knows it except their twelve
year old fans. (Ouch.)
Okay;
for one single moment, we’ll make it
about my experiences because it’s the only thing that I have to compare it
to; when we’ve Premiered our independent feature length documentaries here in
Minneapolis, not only has the house been full
to the brim, but also the energy has been through the roof.
To have so many incredible and amazing people
take the time to step out and attend our Premieres has left me overwhelmed,
grateful and beside myself, not to mention exhausted as well.
I
was not only honoured but also beside myself to realize that the cast and crew
and producers of “We Will Rock You” decided to launch their Premiere here in
Minneapolis.
I suppose because we’re a tough and tight
lipped audience to please.
I know how overwhelming those emotions can
get because wherever one Premieres it
means that that particular audience
is to send you off into the Universes with pride, joy and well wishes on your
successes.
I wish this incredibly hardworking and
magnificent cast and crew nothing but success, happiness and joy as they took
off on their tour.
Minneapolis sends you off with warm wishes,
love and gratitude for using Minneapolis
as your launching pad. We’re honored
to be the first (or second) American city to
see you off and to see you perform your incredible talents and gifts for
the public.
We shan’t forget you, as you travel the
United States of America that is so in need of your tremendous energy and vibe
and talents.
America requires to be ‘rocked’ and ‘moved’
to their senses in a time in which so much has been lost to our workers and as
the “Middle Class” has turned into an endangered species and there’s so much
police brutality in our nation.
As you step out to do your bits each night,
please don’t forget the Americans.
We love and if our American love can only be
returned on performing stages by the dedicated few, who understand, what
creative magic means then so be it.
Even if others have turned their backs on the
Americans, when it comes to the creative, we, too, understand that no matter
how crabby they may become from lack of sleep or overworked, that they shan’t
turn their backs on us because that’s one of our last bits of hope for this
nation, for our truest to shine and to give meaning to an era of so much empty
and shallow nothingness disguised as dollar signs.
Americans can make ‘stone soup’ all right,
but we can’t live on air alone because our bellies ache and our hearts may just
harden at the hatred of today’s leaderless nation of political haters.
We fight with what we’ve got, our
intelligence, our creativity and our peace as any and all great creators do of
any era in time.
We wish you rest, patience with each other,
peace and endurance.
----- ----- -----
The
only aspect of “We Will Rock You” that startled me in the same way that the
audience did is that almost the entire cast and audience were Caucasian.
In
a far off future of an “iworld” there only seemed to be enough room for
Caucasians.
I’m
mostly always startled to go to the theatre and realize that much of the
minority population can’t or won’t or isn’t able to afford live performance
entertainment and I can understand that.
As
I sat in the Orpheum Theatre, I quickly did the math: 2,579 X’s a median ticket
price at $70.00 equal one-hundred-and-eighty thousand dollars ($180,000) and
I’m low balling it. (Sorry, the producer in me deals with figures, always. Math
never lies.)
There
were three aspects about the entire experience that turned me off; A) The rude,
heavy and bragger of a Minnesotan old woman (a season ticket holder), we dealt
with when we got our seats wrong and sat in the wrong section before finding
our correct seats, goodness, you would’ve thought she was a monkey in heat and
territorial B) The lack of minorities in the audience and cast C) At the very
end when the cast members came out and ‘begged’ for AIDS research donations
from the audience after the house had racked up about one-hundred-and-eighty
thousand dollars in one single afternoon’s matinee, at two in the afternoon,
nonetheless.
Once, the cast began to beg, we ran for the
doors.
Leave them wanting for more.
As a producer, I would never do that to any cast because it’s in poor taste and
inappropriate.
If the cast seeks funds for AIDS research
then have the house donate 15% to 20% of each performance towards that
particular cause because the audience had already paid for their admittance
therefore there’s no need to ‘milk them’ for any more money. It’s considered
tacky.
Plus I just don’t like to see embarrassed
looking ‘cast members’ holding out hats or buckets at entrance doors, like the
beggars we were about to face out on the streets.
It cheapens any theatrical experience all
around. It just does and there’s no other way for me to say it but East Coast
direct and straight.
If
I had more social currency in Minneapolis, which
I don’t, not like on the entire of the Eastern Sea Board then I’d start an
‘elite club’ in which the wealthiest who can afford it, would anonymously
donate a seat (or more) to minority adults.
No, not minority youth, rather minority
adults who hardly ever get the chance to get to the theatre.
There are many programs which allow and open
up opportunities to minority youth but hardly ever to minority adults.
I’d love to see different types of minority Grandparents
and adults have the ability and the opportunity to have a seat donated to them
in exchange for their youth getting high marks (all A’s and B’s) in school for
an entire year. Wouldn’t that be fabulous! Extraordinary, indeed! I’d be proud
to sit next to those folks. Truly.
Alas, I’m no one special, but some kid from Brooklyn thus my words
dissipate with this dark cold night air.
------
------ ------
Yes,
I’m the one who rolls her R’s when in attendance of any live-performance.
Why?
I
roll my R’s in remembrance of our eighty-thousand (80,000) dead Mexican
Brothers and Sisters in this drug-cartel holocaust going on six long years.
No, the Costa Ricans don’t roll their R’s but
the Mexican peasants, Native Americans and farmers do and they taught me to
roll my R’s whenever the spirit moves me and thus I do it in the name of love.
I do it for them, so that they may not be
forgotten, ever.
Bravo.
Bravisimo.
Viva la musica.
Peace;
Gabriel
P.S. May the Gods watch over you and keep you
safe while on the road. Be kind and respectful of the crew because they work
their asses off for the cast. Ruby Lewis can really belt it. What a set of
pipes on that tiny little woman! Ha!
Next; The Maya Exhibit or bust.
Word count: 2,292
Friday, November 22,
2013
“How many lament their looks, and how few
lament their brains.”
“It is good to look at the fair--and live
with the wise.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Gouge (to make grooves or holes in, as with a
curved, hollow blade; to scoop out; dig or force out.)
As she fell, the broken broomhandle gouged
her arm.
---
--- ---
Yes, corrections were made.
---
--- ---
-----------------------------------
Vinegar sure is sweet to
the last drop
Look: you’ve not sat across from me and
held a respectful, kind and relaxed conversation face-to-face thus you have no
clue as to the type of person I really am in real life other than on the page
and the page is well, linear and one dimensional; thus you shan’t judge me
solely by what I write on a one dimensional and linear space otherwise it’s
considered lunacy to do so.
Okay;
let’s get to it. I haven’t got much time today. I got caught up doing many
other things and fulfilling responsibilities of immense proportions.
Personally,
I love vinegar because I’m prone to sore throats from time to time, not often,
however, when I do get them then they tend
to take me out for a while, that’s probably why I don’t go around
screaming, yelling or raising my voice too often. I’ve got tender vocal chords.
When a nasty sore throat catches a hold of me
then I like to gargle with apple vinegar (it’s quite tasty). I’m telling you, it’s like magic. Within
less than twelve hours my sore throat disappears and I’m able to get on with
life.
Yes,
when I write, I become literary vinegar incarnate and my soul goes there, so I
let it, because I write with the wisdom of the Maya Ancestors, Kings, Warriors
and Priests and not with the influence of mass media, mass culture and subtle
manipulative conniving methods.
My soul hovers above and slightly behind me
where it ought to be when one writes to a mass public of over one million
worldwide readership.
I try not to think about how the readership
is going to negatively or positively react to this linear writing.
More so, I write, from a place of the sacred and allow for my soul to take its
charted course just as any vessel does once a navigator sets it on autopilot
without crashing into shallow waters.
I
like vinegar because it has a tendency to be incredibly potent, straight
forward, healing and incredibly amazing all around for all sorts of things
like; “Frito Feet.”
I learned that dogs get the most awful smell
on their paws when they sweat and the only real way to alleviate that ‘stale
chip odor’ is to place them inside the bathtub with a little bit of vinegar and
baking soda (I think?) at the bottom of the tub and bam. The pee like odor on
their paws is gone. Wonderful.
I
recently learned that instead of laying down salt on one’s front walk to melt
down ice in the winter, lay down vinegar and something else (?) so that one’s
dog doesn’t have to deal with salt kernels stuck inside their paws all winter
long because that just sounds painful.
I
recently learned that if one places vinegar and something else (?) inside a
plastic bag and hangs it overnight, over their showerhead then one can get rid
of the skuzziest build up on the showerhead. Fantastic.
I
recently learned that if one’s toilet bowl gets water stains on the inside of
the toilet bowl then one can pour vinegar inside the bowl and then bam! Gone.
The inside of the toilet bowl looks as
good as new. Amazing.
For
as much as Americans are constantly peer pressuring others to act like sweetness there’s a lot to be said for vinegar. Vinegar
won’t spike your blood glucose count and send you into a deep sugar coma.
Personally,
in person, I’m quite a naturally sweet and straight forward human because the
culture calls for women to be obedient, kind, accommodating and so on and so
forth, nevertheless, when it comes to wisdom and writing there’s a lot to be
said for the health benefits of literary vinegar.
No,
I don’t want to fake anything on the page simply because I might be afraid of
what others may think of me.
No, I don’t want to lie because there’s
enough of that on the Earth, already.
No, I don’t want to sway others to believe or
think the wrong things because the media already does that for them.
No, I don’t want to get it wrong because
people are counting on me to get it right, even, though, they realize that I’m
an imperfect human who makes many mistakes and corrections for their benefit.
I get to come to the page and even if I use
literary vinegar mixed in with imagery, I get to tell the truth no matter what.
No matter how much others may get jealous,
envious or hateful, I get to speak my truth and that’s worth all the wealth and
gold in the world. You know it, I know it and everybody else knows it. This is
a fountain of wealth.
When I write I come from a place of love.
A deepest love for humanity even if I have to
hand out harsh lessons of the soul to get others to resonate with their own
Mother Earth vibrations.
I believe in life, the ever after, the
goodness of people and the kindness of strangers. I do. I believe.
I was born and I’m married to life.
I took an oath to always do well by others
even if sometimes my English gets jumbled and I have to go back and make better
sense out of what I previously wrote.
Look: allow for me burst your bubbles
and bust your balls.
The Arts are the Olympics of emotional and
cerebral intelligence, finesse, philosophy, creative genius, and, and, and…
No, not any old ‘schmuck’ can be an artist because that’s a lie.
Either, one, has the gift or, one, doesn’t.
No
matter how many hours of practice one puts in, if one doesn’t have the gift,
then one isn’t going to make it, because there’s a lot of drab, crap and
horrible art work out there by people who
think that they’ve got the gift but it’s
obvious to the naked eye of the gift beholder that they don’t know what
hacks do, no matter how much they may lie to themselves.
One has the freedom to explore art until
about the age of sixteen and after that if one is mediocre and simply
‘ordinary’ without the gift, then art becomes nothing but a hobby because the
hardest profession to get ahead in is the arts.
It’s better for a youngster to become a
mathematician, a manager, a scientist, an astronaut because a world of hurt and
disappointment will drive them to madness if they don’t, first, have the gift
and, second, if they can’t ‘tough it out’ in one of the most competitive of all
fields, the arts.
No,
I don’t want to disappoint you for the sheer joy of being a bitch but there’ll
be many who’ll lie to you to get you to part with your money and well, there’re
far more hustlers in this business than there’re in Wall Street.
The truth, that inartistic people won’t
disclose to you; that even if you do put in your first and second ten thousand
hours of practice, it won’t turn you into a genius, if you don’t already have
the gift in your DNA. (Ouch.)
You’ve got to be born with it in the same way that you’ve got to be born with
beauty in order to become a model or with a certain body type to become the
next Michael Jordan, if that’s even
possible, which it isn’t.
So you see I’m letting you down gently
because so many will lie to your face and stroke your egos simply to have you
bust your balls for nothing at all.
Many users will tell you that your art is
‘wonderful,’ either without knowing anything about art themselves or they’ll
laugh at you, behind your backs, because a painted fork is just that; a painted
fork and it has no luminary function only cash symbols, and in the overall
tenor of the art, it means absolutely nothing and everybody knows it but so
long as you can cash in on it, then they’ll stroke your ego but secretly
they’ll call you a ‘hack’ and that’s more painful than finding out the truth
early on.
I’m sorry but others will rob you blind of
your money and especially of your time to get you to practice or study under
them, but it’ll be a complete waste of life because the worst aspect in life;
waking up at the age of twenty-five, only to find out that one is ‘ordinary’
and without the gift and the most you’ll ever become is an art dealer, art
manager, or an art teacher watching the real geniuses leave you in the dust,
because that’s as far as your natural skill set can carry you and not to the
major leagues with the Mozart’s, Beethoven’s and Vivaldi’s.
It’s the truth, and you know it, I know it
and everybody else knows it.
If one is ‘ordinary’ then one’s perceived
more like a ‘cash cow’ then the real thing. (Ha!)
No,
I’m not afraid of a little competition or a lot.
I’ve been at this ever since I was sixteen
only because I have the gift and practiced writing ever since I was twelve.
I have the gift because I was born with it but it was up to me to do
something with it. I’m somewhat of a
genius in my own right even though I don’t like to admit it but oh, well,
there it is for you to read and it’s spelled out for you because I love.
I’ve
met more people who committed suicide because they discovered all too late that
they’d never amount to much in the arts.
I’ve
met more people who became depressed because they discovered all too late that
art is one of the most competitive of sports.
I’ve
met more people who cried themselves to sleep because no one ever told them the
full extent of the truth that their art wasn’t even bad. It’s simply ‘ordinary’
and that’s worst than horrid art work, although
bad art is bad art and we know it to be true.
I’ve
met more people who self loathed because they couldn’t hide the truth from
themselves and it’s always there underneath the surface festering away like
acid.
I’ve
met more people who are self destructive because they hate that the truth is
full of vinegar yet it heals the sick, the wounded and those under the
influence of delusions of grandeur.
No,
no amount of money that one may earn from ‘ordinary’ art will make them into
great artists.
No,
no amount of success that one may earn from ‘ordinary’ art will make them into
great artists.
No,
no amount of ego stroking from the mass media or an “ignorant” public about art
will make them into great artists.
Only
the divine will of one’s genius will make one into great artists.
Only
the truth about one’s gift will make one into great artists.
Only
the skill set and the complex subject matter of one’s ability will make one
into great artists.
Great
art is about humanity and not about dollar bills or painted cups.
Only
the power of one’s DNA will make one into great artists.
No,
I didn’t have it easy as I came up through the ranks.
I’ve had masters and literary peers rip out
my throat. I’ve been scolded, told that my comma placement, parenthesis and
quotations were all wrong. I’ve been made to rewrite drafts in the upwards of
fifty or more times of the same story.
Yes,
a great storyteller either has the gift or not.
To
be a great storyteller is to be mindful, truthful and capable of intelligence
above average.
A
storyteller isn’t something that the mass media poops out.
Storytelling
is something that is sacred and honed for decades and nothing that’s cheapened
like a whore just because everyone
wants to be great at something without having to work at it.
Look;
just like with any greatness you’ve got to bleed for it but make sure that you,
first, have the gift otherwise what a waste of a life, indeed.
Peace;
Gabriel
Word Count: 2,071
Take it away Mr. Bill Maher.
Break a leg and good luck.
Now, that man has the gift of hilarity and
intelligence.
Thursday, November
21, 2013
Happy Thursday!
Aloha!
“Whoever helps or caters to a barbarian
causes the exile of his children.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Ignorance (lack of knowledge, unawareness)
The arrogance of mass media made them ignorant
and unaware of contemporary mass culture.
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--- ---
Yes, corrections were made.
---
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Vinegar Heals
Vinegar’s a remedy and not an infliction
Vinegar’s highly sought after by The People
What
I like about HGTV is that the hosts don’t (for the most part) go out of their
way to belittle, insult or to be mean to their viewership, audience or
demographics.
To the mass media at large: one may not
call their viewership “ignorant”, ever. It’s quite inappropriate.
Only, individuals or bodies of groups can
call themselves “ignorant” but the
mass media and celebrities can’t call the general public “ignorant” because the
public already has enough disdain for the mass media and celebrities as it is.
Also because it’s unprofessional to do so especially when hawking a
documentary that The People have known about the topic and subject matter all,
too, well ever since the early 1980’s.
(It’s the same old broken record, recycled by
the plutocrats to care about the problems they create).
Look: to call the general American
public “ignorant” about “white gold” is to have the media and celebrities stick
their fingers up the audience’s arse and wiggle their fingers around and expect
the audience to like it. Yeah, right.
Please,
the general public has known all about elephant killings and murders ever since
the early 1980’s.
Remember: It isn’t the “middle class” or
the “working class” that can afford “white gold” elephant tasks; it’s the
plutocrats and the oligarch and the politicians that got themselves into that
massive hole and can’t seem to get themselves out of it without the help of the
“middle class” or the “working class” to purchase their manipulative and
corrupt documentaries about slaughtered elephants, so that the plutocratic
celebrities and politicians can make more money from the general public, than
they already stole from The People by selling them lies and crap and guilt the
public into giving them donations.
If the celebrities and political plutocrats
were really serious about saving the
slaughtered elephants then they ought to donate all of the proceeds from the
documentary if they really meant what they said or donate their bloated
speaking engagements’ pay. (Ouch.) Reality
bites. (Bugger off.) The public
can see right through the bullshit.
Now,
that would make for a fascinating and terribly great documentary, to tell the
truth for once, without manipulating fame and fortune into celebrity martyrdom.
It would be awesome to see a film about
bloated plutocrats, celebrities and politicians begging for donations from
starving and hardworking Americans who can barely make it by as it is. Oh, my!
You’d have the Americans rolling on the floor in laughter.
The Americans suffer, greatly, get your heads
out of your undignified arses. You’ve got shit all over your faces and your
assistants won’t tell you, so the general public will politely point at your
foreheads without a single word so as not
to make you out to be anymore ludicrous than you already are.
The Americans aren’t as mean as you are. They
won’t laugh at you and starve your children, they’re not like that, just don’t
piss them off because, eventually they do get even, especially when they’re
slow to react to cruelty, injustice and lies.
It’s
so insulting to have any so called “journalist” name-call the general public
“ignorant” about a problem that already exists and occurs due to the wealthiest
1% of the population. What a bunch of hypocrites.
It’s not the “middle class” or the “working
class” that keep elephant task figurines in their homes; it’s the rich and
bloated fat plutocrats, celebrities and politicians who purchase that sin.
Please. Shove it where the sun don’t
shine.
“Nobody’s
‘ignorant’ about nothin’,” It’s just that the plutocrats are always whining about some cause or other that they helped
create like “white gold” but then they want everybody
else to jump on that band wagon, and cry tears over it, when the Americans
can barely feed their families. As if.
What a bunch of losers who don’t have a clue
about the price of milk, today. Milk’s filthy expensive for the average
American and full of hormones.
Yes,
I do think that the first to be drafted and / or to enlist in the next American
war ought to be the plutocrat and politicians’ children, before anybody else’s,
because that would keep the government from going to war at all.
It would mean that the bloated plutocrats and
the oligarchy would put pressure on war mongers to stay away from war.
Simple and easy solutions sure are common
sense ideologies.
Have an amazing night;
Gabriel
Word count: 757
Wednesday, November
20, 2013
“No office can dignify a man, but many a man
dignifies his office.”
“The man who cannot control himself
becomes absurd when he wants to rule over
others.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Precluded (prevented, shut out, kept from happening)
Because he did not pay his dues he was precluded
from the benefits of the club.
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Afghanistan War 2024
I don’t think so
No, no, no!
In Ancient times, any man or woman who
called themselves a prophet or a leader, and, one, whom was incorrect or
corrupt about their decisions or wrong about their predictions was ‘put to
death’ by the people because information and leadership are ever so important,
vital and noteworthy in the survival of the human species, in which there’s no
room for error when a leader or a prophet places themselves on high pedestals
and decides to lead above the rest.
To lead is to put everybody else before the
self without lies, malice or ill intent towards others, so the leader must get it right or it’s death by the hands of those
who trusted them ever so implicitly with their livelihoods, families and
beloved ones.
I’ll
be as diplomatic and as eloquent as I can possibly be however (don’t hold your
breaths because I don’t feel like it and I don’t have to be.)
I’d rather turn into a literary raging wild
Congo gorilla ape because the American People’s territory and safety is about
to get compromised by corrupt officials and lying politicians who love ‘to
finger’ war mongers under the negotiating table and call it freedom, liberty
and justice for all.
(How’s
that for eloquence? The literary masters taught me to swear along with the
best of them such as Mr. Kurt Vonnegut, especially when everything’s on the
line and there’s much to lose. Thank you.) (How vivid.)
I’d
like to begin by advising you not to be as naïve, ignorant and as stupidly
optimistic about politics and politicians as I’ve been.
Learn your lesson. Here it is for you, neatly
spelled out.
The point of this lesson is: don’t trust any politicians, ever.
Don’t trust any politicians, ever, because at
the end of the day, all they care about is
to ‘go pass go’ and collect their untaxed kickbacks from the most corrupt,
their corporate bed fellows, lobbyists and special interest groups that love to
‘eat out’ our politicians.
Our politicians love getting free ‘blow jobs’
because they love to get their egos stroked, gain rapidly steep pockets,
without working for those stolen hard earned dollars and a ‘hand job’ on the
side, all with the People’s hard earned taxed dollars.
Personally,
I’m a pacifist and I don’t believe in revolt, however our Founding Fathers
wrote into the constitution provisions, in which, We, The People ought to
overturn corrupt governments; in that
if our politicians became lost, wayward, crazy, destroyers or corrupt when it comes to the American human
race, and keep Our People under the thumb
of economic oppression and starvation and poverty then the American
Constitution is there to overthrow any American government that stands in the
way of freedom and prosperity against The People, that goes specifically for
the Republican Tea Party branch that desires so badly for this country to march
in chains however they’re no different than any other political slave masters.
What I can’t seem to understand is this:
Why would president Barack Obama even so much as consider extending this
Afghanistan war into 2024?
Has President Barack Obama gone completely
mad with greed?
What types of financial kickbacks is
president Barack Obama receiving from war mongers and corrupt officials?
Why would president Barack Obama leave his
second term knowing perfectly well that the American People’s Sons and
Daughters would still be at war because of him and his war mongering cronies?
What gives?
Why is president Barack Obama so corrupt in
this potential decision to extend the Afghan war well into 2024 and afterwards?
What does he know that no one else knows?
Absolutely nothing.
Perhaps, he needs to smoke a cigarette and
really consider the moronic tendencies of his wishes and those wishes of his
cronies.
Why would president Barack Obama hold secret
and behind-closed-door meetings with Afghanistan’s Hamid Karzai (his staff) and
not even so much as notify The American People of his ‘evil plan’ and
mean-spirited intent? (Rhetorical)
It
was president Barack Obama who got in front of the tube and promised that our
troops would come home by the end of 2014.
Why would he go back on his original promise?
Oh, no. President Barack Obama’s turned into a complete liar. How devastating
indeed.
Look: to leave ten thousand (10,000)
troops (or so) in Afghanistan until 2024 would cost about one hundred and fifty
billion (150) of the taxpayers’ money (that Americans need for infrastructure
and education and housing and job creation and…) and it would also give the
supposed and often wayward President of Afghanistan Hamid Karzai the chance to
have his own American army in place at his disposal and that will not do.
American troops aren’t to be used for some
Middle Eastern presidential dictator’s amusement and for private bodyguards and
a private army because we’re talking about Our Sons’ and Daughters’ lives.
Get with the program.
No,
the American People aren’t going to put up with that type of bullshit from this current president.
We’ve had enough of a stupid and defunct
health care website and Congress’s inept ability to pass secure voter right
laws that aren’t racist, secure reproductive laws that allows for women to
uphold steadfast to their constitutional rights about abortion and immigration
reform. Nope.
Step back because The People are ready to
burn down Washington D.C.
As
much of a friend as I can be to anyone, I tell you, be careful.
If the government fucks over The American
People’s Sons and Daughters then The People will take down Washington D.C.
because they just need one good reason
to do so and this would put the icing on the cake. Wouldn’t it? Yep.
Give the veterans one good reason to leave
Washington D.C. smoldering in ashes.
I’m almost afraid to write the stark
realities about how much veterans abhor the United States of America and how
deeply wronged they’ve been treated by their own government and brainwashed our
troops to do the dirty work of politicians and plutocrats and the oligarchy and
stuffed bureaucrats who can’t do much other than push papers whichever way from
one end of their desks to the other and then wipe their butts with un-recycled
paper.
Yes,
President Barack Obama does owe the Afghanistan People’s an apology for his
administration’s secretive drone strikes and the killing of so many incredible
Afghanistan innocent bystanders.
If president Barack Obama is going to make an
apology during his presidency then this would be the one to make because this
is proper and correct however… there’s always al-Qaida, isn’t there? Yep.
No,
the American People won’t allow for their Sons and Daughters to be kept in
Afghanistan any longer than December 2014 otherwise, the plutocrats’ children,
Chelsea Clinton, the Bush twins, the Obama daughters and the Cheney women will
also have to fight and endure rape, suicide and killing until 2024 alongside
our bravest.
Mark the People’s words: They’ll drag the politicians’ daughters off
to war to fight alongside their own Sons and Daughters. (Ouch.)
I wouldn’t force your losing hand because it
doesn’t look good from where I’m standing and I’m no one special. I’m just some kid from Brooklyn, a
“middle class” writer.
-----------------------------------
In my heart-of-hearts, I’ve held a
special place for political leaders in the hopes that they’d do well by their
People but that’s turned out to be a false hope along with President Barack
Obama, his corporate bed fellows, cronies and his corrupt officials and war
mongering.
I’m so disappointed in president Barack Obama
and his behind-the-scenes cronies that after today I shan’t waste ink upon him
because he’s turned out to be one of the most quietly corrupt political fellows
along with the Republican Tea Party branch, the Clinton’s and the Bush’s and
the Cheney’s.
Oh, don’t get me started about the Clinton’s
and the Bush’s. Please.
You couldn’t pay me enough money to vote for
Hillary Clinton even if she came to me, got down and begged me on both knees
for my vote. After the debacle in Benghazi, yeah
right.
What do I look like?
A dog’s shaved, rear end, walking backwards?
I don’t think so.
Elizabeth Warren for President 2016!
Elizabeth Warren for President 2016!
Elizabeth Warren for President 2016!
Look: My beef with the Clinton’s is that
when Mr. Clinton left office he had one million in retirement and within one
decade Mr. Clinton went from one million to eighty million. Yeah, right. (Corrupt or what? Sh. We’re
not supposed to talk about that. We’re not as stupid as all that. Please. It all catches up with people
sooner or later, doesn’t it?)
Elizabeth Warren for President 2016!
Elizabeth Warren for President 2016!
Elizabeth Warren for President 2016!
What a real and true disappointment it’s all
turned out to be, this present administration and president.
These, four sets of families have done more
damage to the country than they’ll ever care to know. (May their families live
with that guilt and horribly bad luck for the next seven generations for their
deeds and actions. They’re all the same
and now I see the light. I get it.
It’s nothing but greed and money disguised in humanitarian efforts and hot air
rhetoric.) What an insult to have these
four families call themselves Americans when what they do is destroy America
instead of contribute to it.
I
want you to be way smarter than I
ever was about politics and politicians.
I can’t believe that I’m thirty-six and a
half years old and I’m so naïve and ignorant about politicians.
I just fully woke up, late last night.
I’m here.
I’m present and fully awake today.
I’m on the right side of history and on the
side of the hardworking Americans that get continually economically raped by
politicians.
What a disgrace our politicians are.
What a shame they’ve turned out to be.
What a sorry lot of liars…
Over
the phone my father said to me, “fuck the United States. Take care of yourself
because this is one corrupt, mean and violent country.”
How correct my father is about so much.
I
want you to understand that I get it when it comes to politics being a sneaky
and strategic corrupt game that takes place behind closed doors.
I get that.
I’ve always gotten that, however and
nevertheless, I trusted that any American president would have the best
interest at heart for The People.
I just thought… that Politicians cared enough
about The People to take care of them, respect their wishes and… (it doesn’t
matter.)
(I’ve been so naïve and ignorant it’s almost
painful to put it to ink. I almost don’t want to write about it but I think
that I ought to forge forth and get it out of the way so that I don’t have to
come back and cover this bloody topic ever again.)
For
as long as I live, I shan’t trust any politician’s slogans, campaigns,
advertisements, statements, sentiments or rhetoric, especially if and when
they’re negative and against their opponents.
I want politicians to concretely describe
(without too much retarded rhetoric)
to The People how in the hell they’re going to govern.
How are politicians going to make things
happen, damn it!
Since I can break down, how, I would,
hypothetically, govern then so can others otherwise kiss your rear ends,
goodbye. Next!
I want politicians to answer questions in a
straight forward manner.
I want politicians to concretely describe
(without too much retarded rhetoric)
to The People what strategies and policies they mean to implement.
I want politicians to concretely describe
(without too much retarded rhetoric)
to The People their budgetary understanding of implementation and economical
short and long term goals.
I want politicians to concretely describe
(without too much retarded rhetoric)
to the American People how they will divert and stay away from war mongering
for the next one-hundred years. Yes!
Since I can then so can they.
I want politicians to concretely describe
(without too much retarded rhetoric)
how they’re going to implement new and modern industries and get the Americans
back to work.
Since I can then so can they.
Don’t sell The People the politicians’ stupid
campaign trail, dogs, children and plastic wives.
We don’t care where politicians come from,
who they say they might possibly be and all the other nonsense and lies.
We, The People don’t want their children sold
to us for possible future politicians, reporters or slimy corporate vendors.
Just tell The People ‘what the fuck’
politicians mean to do with The People’s taxes and our country and our babies
otherwise politicians stand to lose far greater than The People do because The
People are already starved, sick and tired of this political bullshit.
Just because Washington D.C. is rich and they
stick dollar bills up their arses it doesn’t mean that the rest of the country
affords such a luxury.
You’re right; The People ought to go out into the streets
and revolt and burn down Washington D.C. but they’re too, hungry and poor to
move.
People have told me over the years that if
they weren’t so hungry then they’d revolt and they just might because hunger is hunger and it’s not going away
anytime soon.
Return our troops home by no later than
December 2014 as promised.
No, it’s not a threat.
No, it’s not a question.
No, it’s not a plea.
Yes, It’s a statement.
Peace at all costs;
Gabriel
*) Of course, I’m aware of Sardinia’s
cyclone. Our family members are all right.
*) Congratulations to the Minnesotans for
raising 16.1 million dollars last Thursday. Did you know that’s the median
annual income of corporate CEO’s?
*) I really like listening to coach Mr. Glen
Caruso (spelling ?) speak about the philosophy of athletics.
Word count: 2,261
Tuesday, November 19,
2013
“The unrepentant go to Hell, the shamefaced
to Eden.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Stark (stiff, rigid, bare, unadorned)
We must at some time or other face the stark
reality.
---
--- ---
Yes,
that’s correct.
I
like to test all sorts of people with my “village idiot act,” however, don’t
think, for one moment, that it’s easy as all that, to pull off when one has the
I.Q. of a…
When one is highly developed, brain-witted
and emotionally intelligent, one of the most difficult acts to pull off is the
act of the ‘village idiot’.
One can’t botch such a fine performance
because then others will ‘catch on’ and start to act sweeter and kinder than
their natural dispositions; and then that becomes a waste of my time because
they, too, will ‘put on an act,’ only, so, that they may be perceived as
something kinder than what they actually are.
I love to find out as much as I possibly can
about other people, their sensitivities, their biases and their value system by
simply challenging them to be more humane, empathetic, patient and considerate
no matter how much of a challenge it may be to become genuinely kind especially
in a moment of duress, stress and difficult miscommunication with someone whom
they perceive as the ‘village idiot’.
Oh, my Gods! It makes me howl with laughter
but never in front of others or it gives the act away.
It’s amazing how difficult it is to put-on a
straight face and hold in your laughter when all you want to do is laugh really
hard, nevertheless, it’s a fine art to develop such a skill set. Hiding my
laughter has saved my skin many times and I’m grateful because I’m a ‘smart
ass’ who passes off as intellectually serious. (Ha!)
Once,
I find out what others are really made out of, I run! I run for the woods and I
don’t ever look back. A second chance with me is like “Waiting for Godot.”
Good luck with that unless… but that’s rare because it takes a genius to come up with
that and most people aren’t that intelligent to begin with.
Once,
people find out that I’m not a “village idiot” at all then they either laugh or
get extremely angry with me.
Well, if they’ve been complete ‘jerk offs’ to
begin with, during my psychological tests then I become completely distant,
cold and turned off to the marrow and there’s no reason for us to ever meet
again, much less interact. Why? What would be the point? There isn’t one.
Moving on.
Yes,
I like people just fine.
In fact, I like listening to people’s
opinions, values, debates, conversations, deepest felt emotions about anything.
No, I’m not anti-social by any stretch of the
imagination.
I’m introverted. Major difference.
I can speak with anyone from any background
and find common ground in which we can respect, admire and resonate with each
other.
If
I’ve ever continually annoyed the hell out of others (as a group and gotten
under their skin) it’s only because instinctively I understood that they were
bullies, abusers, users and mean-spirited and willing to misuse their power
against innocent bystanders for the sheer sociopathic joy of getting away with
doing so.
I have the endurance of a long distance
runner to take a lot of pain, not because I like pain but because when it comes
to shielding others from the violence of abusers, I’ve always had the courage
and the will power to take the abuse head-on like a strong head-wind, lean into
it and navigate my course to social justice.
In the end, I always win because by the time I’ve become continuously annoying to
abusers then their hatred has been diverted away from innocents and towards me
and I’m able to keep the innocent bystanders free from harm and from getting the shit kicked out of them.
Yes, I always
win, because doesn’t kindness always
win? Yes, it does.
Yes, I’m always
thinking of others’ well fare because I like people.
No,
I don’t like to see anyone get hurt but that doesn’t mean that I can’t put on
my emotional ‘shit-kickers’ and leave abusers hurting with tremendous
psychological welts, those, which, their psyche will never let them forget that I
am better than them because I’ll
place others before me and that’s a great sign of strong leadership and not
some delusional maniacal sense of egocentric megalomaniac lunacy that my shit
doesn’t stink just like everything else organic.
My shit does stink, however, I learned how to
wipe properly and well early on as a child in the jungles of Costa Rica without
letting the red ants bite my ass off. (Ha! Now that’s funny!)
I know what it’s like to get kicked in the
leg. It hurts.
No,
I’m not willing to participate in the abusive measures of bullies, however and
nevertheless, if I sense that as a group dynamic, jerks, even so much as think
that they can get away with abusing others because
they consider themselves better than all the rest, all the while,
underneath the skin, they’re nothing but ‘white trash’ then well, the gloves come off because I’m ‘King’
and that’s just the way the cookie crumbles. Oh, well, get over it.
I’ve always sat at the throne.
Always, always, always. (I know that chaps
your arses, doesn’t it?) (Ha!)
The Gods are on my side, and they’ve been
ever since the day I was conceived. I have the most tremendously amazing good
luck in the entire world. I just do. I
was born with it.
I
was meant to be successful in ways in which my abusive peers could not. Not
alone, and not on their own, anyway.
My abusive peers require a lot of assistance
through nepotism and it shows. They have to call in all sorts of favors because
on their own, they’re nothing; and they’ve
always known that to be the truth about themselves.
They live for nothing and they’ll die for
nothing but their egos, farts and bad breath which is centered in the stomach
bile, too, much anxiety about being found out as the ‘white trash’ abusers that
they truly are.
No,
I’m not willing to manipulate social scenes to have innocents get the shit kicked out of them just because
girls / women get envious or jealous of others’ beauty, smarts and kindness.
I’m far more honorable, classy and kind than
that bullshit.
I just don’t have time to be mean to other
women.
No,
I’m not so shallow as to step on anyone’s face while I’m ever so slowly
climbing to the top of the summit because you do know what happens once you get
to the top and you’ve kicked everyone in the face on your way up there?
You already know, right?
Okay, I don’t have to spell it out, but it’s
not good.
People will pull the rug out from under you after
you’ve become most successful, especially then, if you’ve ever so much as
injured, harmed or hurt their beloved ones then it’s only a matter of time until one will find themselves in the
gutter, eating dirt, after everything the abuser has manipulated so hard to
steal from others. (Ouch.)
My
proudest moments in life have been when others have granted me the compliment
that I’m one of the kindest people they’ve ever worked with, hung out with or
lived with.
I’ve been a lucky dog to have so many
acquaintances, non-abusive peers and equals admire my strength, but more so,
genuinely like me for the very real
and humane person that I am.
Almost
everywhere I go, people platonically ‘fall in love’ with my kindness and that’s
a gift from the Gods, but also, almost everywhere
I go, women can get extremely jealous and envious and want to ‘take me out,’
even if it means coming close to murdering me, which it’s almost happened on more than one occasion and it’s scary
as hell to observe such lunacy.
Jealousy and envy will eat away at people’s
hearts like acid because they know that they’ll never be able to measure up to their ideals and thus they fall
short of their own expectations.
Personally,
I thought I’d be dead by the age of thirty-five and I almost was. About two
years ago, if I would’ve laughed too, hard then the four bloody benign
grapefruit sized tumors would’ve ruptured and that would’ve been the end of me.
No laughing! Ha! Fun!
But, no, seriously, as a child I didn’t think
that I’d make it beyond thirty-five because most indigenous women of Central
America don’t. Their life expectancies are much shorter than most and that’s
just their reality thus I always thought I’d be dead by that age and instead
here I am one year and six months later typing away my life to you, so that you may better
understand this soul of mine. (Ha!)
No,
I’m not very smart when it comes to cruelty because it takes too much brain
power away from the really important things in life.
I’ve not had it in my bones to torture
anything much less anyone however, like the water droplet in her innocence she
can cause insurmountable cruel pain upon her victims.
No, I don’t believe in torture of any type,
especially psychological torture.
The Chinese came up with an ‘ingenious’ and
cruel way to torture their victims through something called the “Chinese water
torture” in which they slowly allowed for a single drop of water to drip upon
the foreheads of their victims until they confessed or went mad or died from
getting worn down by such a simple device.
When
I’ve encountered social injustices, cruelties and bullying I’m innocent in the
sense that I don’t want to torture anyone but like the water droplet I can
continuously be a reminder of how annoying others’ reflected misconduct and
misbehaviors are.
I can and will innocently reflect back the
misconduct or misbehavior of others until their misbehavior either changes,
redirects itself or until it stops all completely and all together.
If bullies are braggers then oh, my! They
really have it coming to them. They’ll hear me chirp about how great I am on a daily basis and I won’t let up because it’s my
job to put them in their place before they cause further harm to the rest of
the social body and I have the endurance and the strength to do so.
I can become the burn of a well infected and
picked over scab but never the scab.
I can become the droplet but never the
torturer.
Simply and only the device which conjures
continual annoyance and irritability in the process of everyday living.
I can get in the way of enjoying life to the fullest when bullies
are out to hurt and injure others.
I can reflect back at them and make them
miserable all the time just as they
make others miserable. Why suffer alone? Everybody now! Sing along.
I
can become a ‘royal pain in the ass’ and well, I hate to tell you this, but
it’s hilarious to watch bullies react with self importance as if they’ve not
done anything wrong.
As if I’m the only ‘jerk off’ all around, but
deep down inside it’s aimed at them, and they, only, and they know that
something deeply profound and psychological is taking place for the rest of
their lives and it’ll plague them in life and in their sleep till death do us part. (Ha!)
One can’t be the daughter of a psychologist
and not have a few psychological tricks up one’s sleeve. Please.
I
love annoying bullies because it’s not like you have to go out of your way to
be mean to them, you can just be
without having to work, too, hard at reflecting back egomania, narcissism,
ego-centric cruelty and general social cruelty upon those who’ve never done any
harm to bullies and their cronies.
Oh, my! You ought to see me in action.
I’m beautiful and powerful in the most
annoying of possible ways.
It’s like a ballet on a bicycle, well
balanced and original.
Either one wants to make love to me or insult
me with a bloody nose but if one were to start brawling with me then one might
as well be quite willing and prepared to get a broken nose, a broken collar
bone, a few broken fingers or death by scalping, if it came to protecting my
body and my life.
No, I’m not fucking around when it comes to my physical safety and
neither should anyone else.
It’s annoying as hell to fight (in any sense
of the word) and well, fun to be the water droplet because it’s its nature to
be natural.
In
order to become the water droplet, one, must come to realize that the tortured
bully will most likely hate your guts forever but they can’t live without a
drink of water, either.
What a conundrum, indeed.
They love to hate what they love most,
they’re own image.
How weird indeed.
What?
I
haven’t done anything wrong.
I’m
innocent.
Like
the droplet all I’ve ever done is to let gravity do its work.
If
bullies, go out of their way to abuse innocent bystanders and make their lives
a living hell then, too, can make any bully and their cronies’ lives a living
hell because I am the burn and the droplet when ‘push comes to shove’ and
because I have perseverance on my stubborn side. I can keep it up for years, if
that’s what it takes, no differently than the “Chinese water torture.”
Supreme to be anything at all.
With love to all those who’ve ever been
bullies in my life;
Gabriel
Word count: 2,219
Monday, November 18,
2013
“Arrogance is a kingdom without a crown.”
“When you turn proud,
remember that a flea preceded you
in the order of divine creation.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Cliché (a trite phrase, hackneyed, expression)
“The early warm gets the worm” is a cliché.
---
--- ---
“Affordable Health Care for America Act”
(Let’s talk about it)
Don’t be afraid, dearest Americans
One:
Okay, let’s get it out of the way;
The Republican Tea Party branch abhors the current President of the United
States of America because he’s a black man and there’s nothing that he can do
about that because hence, one, is born with a particular skin pigmentation then
one is stuck with it for life and it’s out of that particular individual’s
control. (Moving on.)
Two:
Yes, there’ll be a one-hundred dollar fine ($100.00) implemented come 2014 or
2015 (I think 2014?) if one isn’t signed up for any type of health care plan at
all and that’s a lot of grocery money.
Three:
I can only hope that the president doesn’t make any more concessions to the
“Affordable Health Care for America Act.”
No, real Americans can’t afford to have the
“Affordable Health Care for America Act” hacked and chipped away by whiners,
the mass media that fueled the fire about
nothing or republicans who complain
about everything but hardly ever come up with any decent, positive, healthy
or inclusive solutions, that’ll care for the overall health of our nation’s
most impoverished and in dire need of health care.
Four:
the way that I see it, the only
reason as to why the president made any concessions about the (ACA) “Affordable
Care Act” is because there was so much pressure from the mass media about a kept promise in the overall affect,
however, that promise neither had to
be upheld nor kept because cheap, bad and horrible health care coverage plans
only helped out the steep pockets of the insurance companies, their cronies and
senators that get a kickback from their lobbyists and not the patrons,
consumers or customers covered under rotten health care packages that sold them cars without seatbelts.
I can’t understand the stubborn ignorance of the Americans: Why
would they want to purchase a car without
a seatbelt that’ll send them flying through the windshield of their cars?
What’s the point other than a cheap product /
coverage? There’s no real point to any of it and the president ought to have never bent to the will of the wrong peer
pressuring idiots. I mean, really.
Five:
let’s do the math: five million (5
million) American complainers and whiners who whined hard enough about nothing with poor and cheap health care
plans which were sold to them, “cars
without seatbelts” is just ridiculous.
Let’s see: fifty million (50 million) (times) five
percent (5%) equals about two-point-five percent (2.5%) of the population who
complained really hard and the mass
media made it happen for them while,
together, they stole great and affordable health care coverage for about forty
five million Americans.
What a bunch of thieves.
They have to return that to the rest of the
Americans.
They just do.
Talk about mass media having to apologize to
the American public?
Oh, my.
Misinformed sure does mean misinformed.
Who’s running those newsrooms, anyway?
By the looks of it…
It takes your breath away doesn’t it? It sure
does mine.
Math: 50 X’s 5% = 2.5% of a whining
population which is nothing in comparison to doing the right thing for the
majority.
Remember, it’s a democratic system and its
lead by the majority and not the whining minority. (if I did the math correctly
and if not then I’ll come back to correct it. You already know that.)
Six:
one aspect that bewilders me the most about the president’s decision to make
any concessions about horrible, empty and shallow health care plans is that it
appears as though he listened to health care companies and insurers and not The
People, but again, what would I know?
Plenty.
I sense that the president is continuously
and incorrectly informed about many aspects of policy and culture. (I can make
a list in which the president’s staff has made him out to seem like a ‘donkey’s
arse’ and that’s just not fair to do that to the leader of the free world.)
Seven:
The president neither had to apologize
nor make any changes to the “Affordable Health Care for America Act.”
He just didn’t have to apologize to anyone, however, the
insurmountable pressure from whiners who don’t have the best interest in the
overall health care coverage for impoverished Americans have warped this
valuable law with incorrect logic and fruitless reasoning about what’s going on
and the mass media just loves to get on band wagons about hot air because well,
journalism is neither educational nor informative any longer, it’s a clown car.
Welcome to the freak show!
Aside from the fact that the president is
sometimes incorrectly misinformed by an inept staff and makes incorrect and
improper decisions by bending to the will of men who’d love to see the country
destroyed, the president is now off the
hook but don’t think that the American People’s don’t have a bone to pick with him about caving in every time there’s incorrect pressure
applied to him. Who are his advisors? Goodness. (Don’t answer that, it’s meant
to be rhetorical.)
No,
the president doesn’t owe any one any type of apology when it comes to people
losing their crappy health care coverage and plans.
Please, don’t be so arrogant as to ride upon
that wave of ignorance.
How annoying, indeed.
And you call yourself policy-making surfers? As if.
Aside
from the fact, that I disagree with the president’s drone strike policies, and
as far as the excellent and valuable “Affordable Health Care for America Act”
is concerned, I like his overall leadership.
I believe that this man means well, even
though I’m sure his bosses “behind-the-scenes” sometimes get stupid and crazy ideas about how to pilot this country
through the dark.
It seems like a bunch of captains who know
nothing about navigation and probably cheated their way through their
examinations like many Ivy Leaguers do.
How do The People know this to be a
certainty; this policy-making dysfunction?
Just look at some of the war and corporate
decisions already made because they’re horribly mismanaged and government has
no business getting into bed with corporations and war mongers.
Eight:
What was the mass media thinking? They weren’t.
What I can’t seem to understand about our
incredibly hardworking journalists and investigative reporters and producers is
why they reported upon the basis of so much hype instead of upon the basis of
education and factual information.
Our mass media isn’t off the hook by any means.
I do sometimes wonder when information, facts
and reporting fell by the wayside and infotainment took over such a valuable
service to The People.
Just because ratings drive the market of mass
media, information and made-up news, it doesn’t give them the right to sway the
people incorrectly because then we’re getting into some serious legal grounds
in which the mass media could be sunk under by The People’s attorneys.
I
mean, look at 60 Minutes. For as long
as they are on the air and kicking, we’ll not believe what comes out of their
mouths, not ever.
CBS has now entered the age of poke-fun,
point and laugh at the fact that their producers and reporters could be lead by
their balls and vaginas by a liar (con artist) about a story as important as
Benghazi.
There’s only one way for CBS to build the
trust of the people but like hell if I’m going to give it to them for free and
no, it’s not an apology, it’s… Ha! It’s the easiest thing in the world and
right in front of their faces.
Oh, my Gods what a bunch of ninnies.
Do your homework, do your homework, do your
homework, no matter how lazy or misguided one becomes by their own fame and
fortune.
When
did hot air become news, information and educational?
It
never did. It never has and it never will. Hot air is farts.
We
the People need, we need for our mass
media outlets to get their heads out of their arses and begin to help out The
People in the correct and proper understanding about “The Affordable Health
Care for America Act” and the times in which we live in otherwise they’re no
good to us and unnecessary.
Internet killed the
Television star.
What
is it about the mass media that’s willing to waste our valuable air time in the
pursuit of hot air and not teach or inform the American public about the
“Affordable Health Care for America Act?”
Is it that hardly anyone’s staff has read the
“Affordable Health Care for America Act?” Yes, most likely and it’s obvious. It
shows.
No,
I don’t get paid the overly stuffed and bloated salaries of news liars and I
still made the point to get through the bloody 1,990 pages and I’m still unsure
as to what to make of it, at times, however, I do like it, overall.
Get going with your homework because that’s
the mass media’s “bread ‘n’ butter”.
Do your homework, once, you’ve done your
homework, then put it into terms that the American public (with their crappy
sixth grade reading level) can understand or there’s no reason for you to have
jobs tomorrow morning, smirking away at cameras as though you’ve shit your
pants.
The Americans hate mass media with the
passion of… because they’re right, the media does make fun of them. It’s a joke
and the public’s not in on the joke, instead they’re made to feel as though
they’re made fun of at the expense of their livelihoods, their families and
their safety and health care.
Why does the mass media hate Americans so
much? (Rhetorical)
Why does the mass media make so much fun of
the Americans? (Rhetorical)
Doesn’t the mass media understand the very
harsh realities of their people on
the ground? (I guess not.)
Why is the mass media so damn egocentric,
maniacal and cynical when the Americans work their butts off for morsels of
food? (Rhetorical)
Nine:
In conclusion: Don’t believe all the hype.
I
do. I love the “Affordable Health Care for America Act.”
I
think that it’s a beautiful, valuable and excellent contribution to our country
because Americans ought to have affordable health care for all.
The
one main thing that I love about the “Affordable Health Care for America Act”
is that it’s inclusive of those with pre-existing conditions, prenatal services
and mental health services.
While
reading the “Affordable Health Care for America Act” it took my breath away at
how inclusive it is.
At times, I felt tears in my eyes but I held
steadfast to my proud stiff upper lip and didn’t shed one single tear, however,
I understood what this Act means for the United States of America.
The
“Affordable Health Care for America Act” is no different than the Emancipation
Proclamation, the Civil Rights Movement, Medicare and Social Security. I was
overwhelmed at how this “ACA” Act will change our nation once more to become a
leader of the technological world.
There’s nothing weak in wanting to care for
our impoverished citizens.
It’s
now up to our corporations to raise the minimum wage to at least $10.50 an hour
to keep up with the rate of inflation because if the corporations keep our citizens
impoverished, starved and overworked then the taxpayer has to pay for
corporations’ hires, (their workers at wage slave,) then the taxpayer has to
front the money through welfare and food stamps because our American
corporations are greedy and cruel and uncaring about what happens to their workers.
Peace;
Gabriel
*) Yes, of course we’re keeping up with
direct news from people across the world about this Philippines’ Typhoon which
has been on my mind for about a week and three days. Our prayers and behind-the-scenes
connections and dollars have been sent out to that part of the world. Of
course, I keep up. I get updated on the hour as to what’s happening worldwide.
Thank you.
*) To our dearest Americans in the Midwest;
in Washington, Illinois, Indiana and Michigan, our prayers, aid and donations
are on their way. We think of you on this cold and deadly Midwestern night for
those of you who are now homeless, keep
the faith. We never forget our own. We take care of our own.
*) Yes, I’m aware of the anti-discrimination
law that just passed the Senate about two weeks ago. An anti-discrimination law
in which none of our beautiful Bisexual Lesbian Gay Transgender Queer Straight
Alliance can be discriminated in the work place due to their sexual preference.
Thank you. Now let’s pass it in the House.
Word count: 2,139
Friday, November 15,
2013
“A man who praises himself will shame
himself.”
“The man who despises little things will
gradually fail.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Cauterized (seared with hot iron with the purpose of
sterilization)
The physician cauterized the wound
immediately.
---
--- ---
Happy Friday!
Aloha.
Happy 50th Birthday to Eric!
Hip! Hip! Hooray!
What a gorgeous and sunny morning.
---
--- ---
-------------------------
No,
I’m not some fiction character in a novel. Au
contraire.
Yes,
I’m human and real. I feel just as you do.
Look:
the toughest aspect about pulling off a non-fiction blog such as this one is
the following: weekly dense material, a high level of performance, excellent
craft potential, editing and analysis, and teaching valuable lessons that will
resonate with the readers’ souls for many years to come without having the
reader become overly immersed in my private or personal life and come to think
of me as some character because then I fail the reader, the reader fails me and
we fail each other. We can’t have any of that.
Look:
In real life, I lead one of the most beautifully disciplined, organized,
spontaneous, calm, friendly, caring, loving, quiet, fulfilling, laughter and
music and cinema filled and full of excellent company types of lives with
mentors, close friends and beloved Minnesota family members with incredible
support, unconditional love and respect.
I’m a lucky dog with my three meals a day, a
walk once a day with relaxation, play and work.
No,
there’s no melodrama, no drama, no rewrites and there’s no screaming of any
type, (any longer) (I’ve proven to be a stronger person than, I was previously,
when I lived through dire physical illness and pain and doctors kept telling me
that it was psychosomatic but it wasn’t, it was real uterine pain from benign
tumors the size of grapefruits pushing against all of my vital organs,) there’s
no conflict with rude and mean-spirited neighbors who trumped around in the
upstairs flat all day long, no rudeness on my part, or delusions of grandeur,
or mental illness.
None of that.
I won my mature adulthood.
No,
I don’t hear voices or see visuals that aren’t there, I’m not schizophrenic,
bi-polar or Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disordered or Post Traumatic Stress
Disordered, aggressive, confused, or impulsive, however.
I can become irritating and annoying in
public if people go out of their way to be rude or hurtful to my person then
the gloves comes off and tea time is over.
There’s no drama, here, and well, I’m so
sorry to disappoint.
I’m more
or less ‘normal’ by modern cultural standards and feisty if it calls for me to be so, otherwise,
I’m lazy and relaxed and inclusive in my demeanor.
I’ve been called ‘boring’ by some. Okay. I’d
prefer it that way. I can be one of the best conversational partners and social
animals but according to the Myers-Brigg test I’m the most introverted of all
of the personality types as an INFJ. I can be a party animal yet I’m extremely
introverted.
No, I don’t consider myself special or more
interesting than others.
I’m, however, on birth control because as of
this September 2013, two cysts were found in my ovaries and thus it causes acne
and womanly hormonal inflections, thus, I’ve been humbled, and I’m diligent
about taking my birth control and it’s made a real even keel person out of me
without causing weight gain or further acne.
No,
I’m not getting, too, personal.
The reason as to why I write like this is so
that maybe, just perhaps, women’s lives will be saved in the process to more
correctly medically diagnose them instead of calling them “insane” or dismiss
them and rather deal more acutely with their ovaries and reproductive systems
that, which can contribute to tremendous illnesses and health problems.
Yes,
my hormonal imbalance is all in my ovaries and not in my head, per say. Ha!
That’s awesome! I’m not insane I just happen to deal with two quite painful cysts
in my ovaries. Wonderful. I can deal with that.
Yes, like any other human I’ve had great
financial, emotional and physical loss, but hey, if you haven’t had any of that
by the time one’s thirty five then one’s…and that’s just weird.
No,
I’m not a broken porcelain doll.
No,
I’m not damaged goods.
No,
I’m not mean-spirited in person.
No,
I’m not in need of rescue.
No,
I haven’t lost my soul.
No,
I’m not an instigator.
No,
I’m not a caretaker.
No,
I’m not an enabler.
No,
I’m not cruel.
No,
I’m not a narcissist.
No,
I don’t have a virgin / whore complex.
No,
I’m no longer in pain.
Yes,
I can be a literary pain in the ass.
Yes,
I can be literary crude.
Yes,
I’m brain-witted however not as funny on the page as I’m in person (or so
friends tell me so.)
Yes,
I’m serious on the page so I don’t have to be in person.
Yes,
I pick up accents if I hang out with foreigners for too long.
Yes,
I have great moral and ethical standing.
Yes,
I know where I’m going.
I
started on this path long before you ever started reading this.
What
seems to chap any readers’ rear ends is that I’m not a lost cause, a rebel, a
martyr, a victim or a beggar or a drunkard. I know, I know. How boring indeed.
Yes!
People
who’ve worked with me have told me that I’ve been ‘fantastic’ to work with and
that’s been a great compliment.
There are only six white women and two black
women who hate my guts because I stood up to them while they bullied, stole and
hurt others in the workplace or in my private and personal life and I got
feisty because like hell if I’ll let anyone abuse their power in such a
demeaning manner against others.
I’ve had white women, (Unit Production
Managers) get me fired as a 2nd Assistant Director on a film set
because they couldn’t control my direct East Coast style of communication and
threw out my personal belongings on the ground for an entire film crew to
witness.
I’d never felt so ashamed of others’
misbehavior. I held back hot tears.
I’ve met ‘white trash’ Los Angeles types in
the film industry that I could’ve gotten them black listed by big time film
producers but I’m not like that and so I’ve kept it to myself all these years
later and now my powerful friends will read this and the phone will begin to
ring off the hook and I refuse to explain. I have until July 2015 to disclose
the juicy details.
I’ve lived through the shaming, embarrassment
and injustices of people’s cruelties because what else is there to do when
people are out to get you and they hate with the vengeance of devils? Nothing.
What are you to do but to pick up your
belongings from the ground by a garbage can and drive away, quietly and
peacefully even though you’ve been made to feel like the smallest person alive?
There’s nothing to do but to hold your head up, over act the pain with a smile,
and wave goodbye like it doesn’t bother you.
I felt as though my entire skin had been
peeled back and I’d been stripped down to my bare soul like a concentration
camp prisoner.
All I could do was to pretend like it didn’t
hurt.
What a bunch of cocaine induced fruit cases.
I’ve had white women get me walked out of my
very own production as a producer of one theatrical show for almost unveiling
her as an embezzler, the night of her performance, and cheating the cast and
crew out of paychecks, because the director kept all of the previous proceeds
of two other productions and didn’t pay anyone a cut when she stopped the tally
from getting reported to me by our door personnel. I got frozen out of my own
productions. How unprofessional. I mean, really.
The injustices and I kept my cool even though I could’ve metaphorically…
Aside from these insane, greedy and power
hungry people who took it upon themselves to be so insulting and abusive of
their power in front of entire cast and crews, aside from these insane peoples,
others told me that I’ve been one of the most delightful, fantastic and fair
co-workers who they’ve ever worked with and would do it all over again,
anytime.
I’m pleased to hear them say this because
I’ve been to hell and back again with cheaters, haters and embezzlers and I
don’t regret any of it. I wouldn’t change anything about my life. None of it.
It all happened for a reason and I’m glad that it did because I don’t abuse my
powers.
Oh, I’ve got to run!
Party time!
Peace;
Gabriel
Word count: 1,575
P.S. I’m
almost through reading the 1,990 pages to the “Affordable Health Care for
America Act” and I think it’s a great law.
No,
I don’t think that President Barack Obama has to make concessions for all of
the whining, crying and immaturity of the Republicans when it comes to
America’s Health Care Act.
Yes,
the Republicans have to come up with five different ways to make this health
care law a better law because this law is Romney’s blueprint and because of
that reason alone they ought to love it.
If one’s against the “Affordable Health Care
for America Act” then one’s a modern Fascist.
If one’s against the “Affordable Health Care
for America Act” then one’s unpatriotic.
If one’s against the “Affordable Health Care
for America Act” then one’s moronic.
Thursday, November
14, 2013
Gettysburg Address
By former President Abraham Lincoln
November 19, 1863
Four score and seven years ago our fathers
brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and
dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war,
testing whether that nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can
long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to
dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here
gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and
proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we can not
dedicate—we can not consecrate—we can not hallow—this ground. The brave men,
living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor
power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we
say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living,
rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here
have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to
the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take
increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of
devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in
vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that
government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from
the earth.
-------------------------------
Everybody chill out!
Happy national pickle day!
Happy relaxation and non-judgmental day!
Happy day to our hardworking fellow
Americans!
*) No,
I don’t believe that the white race is ‘screwed up’ however I do believe that
the culture of ‘white privilege’ is screwed up. (I made changes to the previous
text, only, to be fair because that counts in life. Moving on.)
---
--- ---
*) Yes,
I love, admire and respect many white people and they do me.
--- --- ---
*) The
best and most improved Target store award goes to: the Crystal Target.
We hadn’t been to that store in over a year
and oh, my! Today it was beautiful, splendid, clean and fantastic!
The first time that Eric and I frequented the Crystal Target
store last September 2012, the parking lot was a garbage dump and there was
garbage all over the inside of the store.
I almost ran out of there screaming I was so
grossed out.
It truly was a ‘ghetto Target’ and to be
fair, we stopped in, again, this morning and oh, my word; it was absolutely
beautiful, clean, well maintained, organized, well run and worth our time and
money.
We loved our time there this morning. I
could’ve spent hours shopping there however because we shop like Finns; we go
in, we shop and we get out. We left soon after we purchased what we’d gone
there for.
Thank you to the entire floor staff, managers
and service workers and the entire team at Crystal Target for making it such a
lovely place to shop.
The improvements are tremendous and worth the
ink.
I was moved by the organization, the care and
tenderness for such a lovely establishment.
We must not allow for our stores and country
to be taken over by any ghetto because that’s just what the Nazis expected from
the world, to go ghetto and that
would’ve given them a reason to murder in cold blood. We’re better than that.
I could go on gushing but I’ll stop here. You
already know how proud I am of the Crystal Target staff.
If you become a patron at the Crystal Target
store then you shall respect the hard work our workers put into that
establishment otherwise, get the hell on out of there. We won’t stand for
‘ghetto fabulous’ lies and bullshit.
---
--- ---
*)
I had no idea that there was a Dairy Queen grill right there in Crystal. Oh, so
many discoveries were made this morning. I’ll be running out this afternoon to
purchase Eric’s birthday cake for tomorrow, at that particular store.
I really enjoy all of the choices patrons
have to shop in that outdoor strip mall in Crystal. I’m totally excited by the
diversity and the vastness of businesses right there behind the Target with a
Marshall’s, Michael’s, the Panaderia, a tennis shoe store, a dress store, so
many other stores I’ll have to make a point to frequent in the year to come.
I do like to shop near home then I don’t have
to hike it out to St. Louis Park or other places. I like the clean parking lots
of this Crystal outdoor complex. Crystal Target could give downtown a run for
their money, just kidding.
Well, well, well the world’s making positive
changes after all. Hip! Hip! Hooray! I’ll give credit where credit is due any
day. I’m humble enough to notice positive changes and mention them. Why
wouldn’t I be?
---
--- ---
*) One
of my very favorite aspects of downtown, Minneapolis is an electronic digital
display (at corporate Target, I think?) that portrays creative electronic
graphic displays.
The creative electronic designs are
absolutely stunning. The displays take my breath away each and every single night
that I’m downtown. I can’t do anything but smile to myself and to my dog
harnessed in the backseat of our car.
I do pay attention because the beauty that
such a creative display brings to the world is worth taking notice.
I like that there are no marketing logos of
any type, only, pretty and lovely electronic designs displayed on that tower.
Talk about the intelligence of those artists
and engineers who bring us such beauty and not commercial or advertising
ugliness. What a gift from the Target Corporation to this amazing Twin Cities.
Thank you, we appreciate it (now let’s not get big fat bloated heads about it.)
Beauty never goes unnoticed. Why would it? It
shouldn’t.
When this type of aesthetic enlightenment
happens to any corporation, then one realizes that that corporation’s really
made it, because when they don’t have to push for their corporations’ logo,
too, hard then one knows that they’re not hard up for money and desperate.
When corporations stop being overly greedy,
smug and a show off then they begin to contribute to the world’s beauty and not
take away from it.
When corporations slap their logos all over
the entire topography of the land of Mother Nature then it’s like cutting and
slashing a beautiful woman’s face and calling her ugly because he’s cut her
open and it’s he’s fault not hers yet he blames it on her. (Ha! Wonderful
metaphor!)
If something is peddled really hard then it
makes me think that they need the money really badly and thus they can’t
create, they can only subtract and suck up all the air out of aesthetic beauty.
Over Halloween I saw pumpkin designs on the
tower display. I was reminded of Charlie Brown’s Halloween Television Special
which is one of my favorites. Anything Charlie Brown moves me because the
author and illustrator was such a remarkable human.
*)
Charles M. Schulz, the man is one of my heroes.
I’ve seen unicorn designs and as of late
there’s been an electronic display that looks like the Aurora Borealis’s or
sonic waves or I don’t know.
I love it all!
I, too, love more than I hate, believe it or
not; it just depends on what I think is more pressing material to cover and
that’s what gets ink, nevertheless, I could gush about beauty for years to
come.
Oh, this colorful and electronic and digital
little design films take my breath away and I never get sick of them. I want to
see more in the years to come.
In a world in which all that corporate
America does is to push and peddle for their logo’s it’s so refreshing to see
the Target Corporation draw so much attention to their tower without shoving
their logo or any other logos down the civilians’ throats. It’s a visual break
from commercialization.
The best non-commercial award for
beautification goes to Target Corporation and tower, especially their designers
and engineers of the tower designs. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
I’m so proud of your work.
It’s so special, important and amazing to
modern civilization.
What a contribution.
---
--- ---
*) It
had been over a year since I’d frequented “Kinhdo” Vietnamese restaurant in
Uptown, Minneapolis.
The food has always been great.
We never got ill from it in the six years
that we we’re monthly patrons there and the staff are people that we highly
regard and respect. They’ve shared their life stories and the reasons as to why
they work so hard to send money back home to their loved ones and to finance
trips back and forth to and from Vietnam.
I admire and respect the staff at “Kinhdo.”
There’s one waitress in which we respect each
other so much that we’ve become comfortable with hugging each other when we
greet.
We have so much admiration and respect for
the other and the wait staff respects Eric and warmly tease my beloved instead
of insulting him and being rude to him, which has happened in other restaurants
and it’s almost left me in tears each and every time because I’ve gotten so
angry by the injustice.
I can handle people being rude to me but when
it comes to Eric I get so angry I could almost cry in public but I don’t
because I was raised to have a stiff upper lip. No, like hell if I’m going to
cry in public if I can help it. Please.
The Kinhdo staff and cooks are truly amazing
and we’ve come to know them as patrons over the years. Thank you. Saturday
night’s meal was fantastic. Going to “Kinhdo” is like going back home.
I feel like that’s one of my homes away from
home even though I hardly set foot in Uptown anymore. I’ll make more of a point
to stop in at 28th and Hennepin Avenue more often because the food
and the people sure are worth our time and effort. I could gush.
---
--- ---
*) I’ve
been waiting for all of votes to come in and be counted then I can congratulate
all of the candidates who are now officially elected officials.
---
--- ---
*) Congratulations
to the Boston Red Sox on their win and success. I’ve yet to watch the game on
DVR. Please, don’t tell me anything about the game I have yet to catch up on
our viewing enjoyment and entertainment pleasure of the World Series.
---
--- ---
*)
As for the Crystal Perkins, we’d like to send out a big shout out to our
favorite waitress who’s going to be married this weekend.
Congratulations sweetie! She deserves nothing
but the best and always a 20% tip. She had a hell of a summer purchasing a new
home and installing her own kitchen cabinets. What an amazing human.
---
--- ---
*)
Congratulations goes out to all of the work crews seen picking up garbage in
downtown, (our city) this morning.
---
--- ---
*)
We’re so looking forward to the specter and magic of the “Queen” musical.
---
--- ---
*) We’re
so looking forward to the Maya exhibit.
---
--- ---
What gorgeous and sunny day it’s turned out
to be.
I’ve got to stop here for now and take our
little puppy for a walk because he just vomited. Poor little pup.
My deepest apologies but I didn’t make it
back to the page.
Peace;
Gabriel
Word count: 1,706
Wednesday, November
13, 2013
“One strong point is worth ten weak ones.”
“He who seeks the truth must listen to his
opponent.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Intense (strong, powerful, forceful, concentrated,
deep, passionate, extreme, severe)
Her intense arguments won the debate.
Baffled: (foiled, puzzled)
After watching the magician the boy was baffled
at his skills.
---
--- ---
---------------------------------
Yes,
my writings are exhaustingly intense.
Yes,
I get to be intense for two hours a day when I write.
Yes,
it’s exhausting work to write intensely, just try it, sometime.
(It’ll
make you physically tired. It does me. I feel like taking a nap afterwards
because it’s hard work. Much, too, difficult at times.)
Okay,
if, one is intense all of the time
then one needs to practice better socialization skills. (Ha!)
I
hate to be intense because it’s exhausting work, however, English is such a
violent and harsh language that most English speakers come across as ‘intense’
and violently speak primarily about themselves instead of general concepts so
I’m sometimes on guard; I meet them where
they’re at and at times they’ve been hypocritical enough to tell me, that,
they hate to interact with me after verbally abusing words such as “bullshit,”
“fuck off,” and “go to hell” with me, when I’ve stated my personal opinions,
without swearing at them, once, about anything, especially when they’ve asked
me what I thought about anything at all. What a bunch of…
I’ve been physically and verbally abused in
America so what’s there to do but to shield oneself, get ready to verbally strike
at self-centered and entitled peoples and put them in their place without
biting them yet jolt them awake to their egotistical cries and maniacal self
importance.
I meet them at their energy level however, if
they just want to sit around, sip papaya juice and listen to the sounds of the
wind then I’m all for that.
It’s only others who are intense with me
that, tell me that I’m intense with
them. People always want to tell me what I am to them, however, I’m not a
chameleon.
I’m more of a mirror.
If
a man tells me that I’m ‘intense’ then it’s either because he is, or he’s
manipulative, or he’s cunning, or he’s an instigator or because he’s
exhaustingly the most quietly boring human, alive, pretending to be the most
exciting human in the room, or he doesn’t speak about anything of much
consequence, so I like to egg on people who contribute nothing of value yet
want to be entertained by others and waste their time, or who are so guarded
against the world that they shut out the world. (Fun!) Sometimes, I like to push buttons but that, too, makes me exhausted
so I don’t go around looking for a bloody nose.
I most definitely don’t tell others what they come across like to me, yet
in the United States people love to
tell others what they seem like to them
without first, asking for permission, so that the instigators feel good about
themselves in ‘helping’ others further
themselves or bend them to their will.
It’s a conniving, manipulative and sneaky way
to interact with anyone in communication. It’s an injustice to any language.
In
America people like to tell others what
they seem like to them so they can either break one’s hope or self esteem;
but oh, boy, if you were to ever tell them what they truly came across to you,
then watch out because Americans have neither the thick skin nor the backbone
to take it.
It’s a social game of hypocrisy and double
standards.
It’s the easiest game to play with English as
a Second Language peoples because we
don’t think quickly on our English feet but it’s a cheap point to win to
insult another just to see us melt or shoved against a rock and a hard place.
It’s a dirty and perverted and sneaky little
game to play when one tells others what you think of them without first
humbling oneself to ask, if, one may criticize the other, but without the
expectation to be criticized in return. As
if. What a bunch of… (Ha!)
No,
I’m not like most well mannered foreigners when it comes to getting insulted,
fucked with, manipulated or abused by American tricksters because I took abuse
lying down as a young adult.
I refuse to ever yell or scream out in pain
ever again, however.
If, and by the time I’ve raised my voice and
I’ve calmly told or warned someone to ‘please leave me alone’ then you better
realize that there’s an instigator pushing my buttons and wants me to either
kiss their asses, kneel before them or they want my self esteem as the main
entre and that won’t do.
I’m finally catching unto the Americans with
their power struggles and perverted verbal instigations. People sure are crazy
scary.
If
Americans insult me then I insult back with politeness or I can become an ice
queen but then I want metaphorical
bloodshed ice cream for dessert.
I can mock anyone until they cry out for
their mommies and daddies but I’m not that cruel.
If I have to go for the calm and quiet
jugular then it’s all over because Americans are rude while they pretend like
they’re not.
Americans either play the defenseless victim
card or cower in corners and pretend like
they didn’t do anything wrong. How annoying when they’re the ones who
instigate verbal violence.
I’ve been told that I look like a ‘monkey’ by white Minneapolis women.
I kept my cool and thanked them. What the
fuck! Don’t I get to be treated humanely also? Don’t I deserve at least just
that? If I would’ve told them what I thought of them then I would’ve broken
them because I have that power so I don’t abuse it.
I’ve been told that I’d ‘make a great Central
American servant’ to white Minneapolis women with way, too, much botched
plastic surgery that they were just way, too, scary to look at straight in the
eye for any length of time.
I kept my cool and thanked them. What the
fuck! Don’t I get to be treated humanely also? Don’t I deserve at least just
that? If I would’ve told them what I thought of them then I would’ve broken
them because I have that power so I don’t abuse it.
Just
because people are English as a Second Language, well behaved, well socialized
and don’t come across intense at all,
it doesn’t mean that their emotions aren’t swimming and blistering throughout
their bodies.
Anytime that anyone is culturally rude or
wrong towards another, then chemicals begin to bubble to the surface and the
trick is not to show any emotion no matter how rude Americans are, however, if
one’s to ‘match force with force’ then Americans become mean-spirited weaklings
and pretend to become victims, especially adult white women.
They’re so fucked up so just amuse them, what
else is there to do? Nothing.
I have to force myself to thank people in
Minneapolis for being blatantly racist against me out in the open.
I’m forced to pretend like it doesn’t sting
because when one deals with passive aggressive racist abusers the entire goal
is to never let them see you sweat
and the only time that I yelled or raised my voice was when I was violently
verbally attacked and manipulated by a real estate agent at Edina Reality and
she called herself a defender of the African people by selling goats while in
supposition she most likely pocketed
the money for herself because she was the ultimate embodiment of white trash
and a hater of women of color here in America. Ouch.
The truth stings, doesn’t it? It sure does,
far more so than racism.
She was a true racist and classist
instigator.
I could’ve yanked on her brittle ugly yellow
hair but no, people of color must
always keep their cool because it’s us that’ll go to jail and not white people.
We know, we know.
We’ve known since the Civil Rights Movement
to always be the better man no matter how many ‘white devils’ want to see us
fly off the handle and get us arrested while they pretend to cry wolf while
they hunt us down and burn us at the stake.
She’s nobody and will continue to be nobody until the day
she dies because she proved to be a swindler of American women of color.
She gladly took my money over some such
bullshit about raising funds for an African village and donating goats, yet she
was racism incarnate to my face.
What a fucked up culture of white privilege.
They’re so screwed up, they don’t know their heads from their arses and that’s
because they’re belligerent and hide behind hoards of money and business
schemes.
She’s white trash dirt but Americans don’t
like to hear that about themselves because they like to play the politically
correct card.
I can’t tell you how much white Minnesota
privilege has dragged me through the mud and I’m supposed to like it otherwise
they look at me like I’m the crazy one and I look at them like they’re insane
because they are, their actions spell it out.
It’s foreigners, who, tell me that they hold
their tongues all the time with the Americans because they’re afraid to come
across as ‘rude’ but if they gave the Americans a piece of their cultural minds
then oh, boy.
Hell on Earth would be unleashed upon the
Americans because Americans are rude, yet, if one were to stand up to them or
challenge their moronic cultural beliefs then there’s hell to pay so it’s best to be quiet, docile, and extremely
well behaved and on one’s best behavior and let them believe whatever the hell
they want to without realizing what ignoramuses they truly are when they go
around telling others what they are to them. How rude, indeed.
You won’t catch me telling the Americans that
they’re whiners, bad breathed manipulative instigators, abrasive, brash,
coarse, foul-mouthed, vulgar, boorish, selfish, self centered, narcissistic,
self important, closed minded, bad mannered, uncouth, loud or to the other extreme, manipulative and
strategically silent pseudo-victims of others’ demise. I don’t tell them that
they’re…
If a man tells me that I’m condescending then
it’s only because he is.
If a man tells me that I’m melodramatic then
it’s only because he is.
If a woman tells me that I’m a bitch then
it’s only because she is.
If a woman tells me that I’m a cunt then it’s
only because she is.
If a woman tells me that I’m ugly then it’s
only because she is.
If a woman tells me that I’m crazy then it’s
only because she is.
I
reflect.
I reflect especially when others tell me what I am to them, most likely
it’s because they see themselves in me.
Reflection
is a skill set and it’s a tough one
to pull off, well, so if people don’t often like how I interact with them then
it’s because most likely they don’t like the way they interact with me.
I simply reflect rude behavior back or I
become awkward and then game over. A second chance, fat chance. One only gets one chance to make a good
impression.
I love to sit quietly by bonfires and stare off into the distance because
well, really, what’s there to say that hasn’t already been said before? Nothing
much.
If I’m talkative then it’s not a performance.
It’s done more so for the benefit of the
other party so that I don’t stare a hole into their skulls because it’s so much
more fun to ‘people watch’ then to interact with speech. Anything can go wrong with
speech.
As women, we’re taught to socially cater to
others, so I do it, at times, however and nonetheless I have gone silent for
years at a time. Try it. It’s not so difficult. Once you get the hang of it
well, it’s more fun than you think.
If I’m ‘chatty’ (which is never) and make
negative comments about any public place or its people then it’s because that’s
my woman’s prerogative to be as foul and as irritating as possible to create
positive change. I know, I know counter intuitive but it works.
I’ve
been taught by Finn women to make a social ruckus if the service sucks, if
people are mindlessly crude and if others are annoying as hell or dangerous
then one’s allowed to ‘beat them at their own game’ by digging into their space
and private moments in public.
I’ve witnessed Finn women yell, “That’s the
worst waiter I’ve ever had!” for an entire restaurant of patrons to hear her
opinion and I almost fell over because it was, too, rich.
Look:
I come to this space to ink about anything and to practice my freedom of speech
no matter how much someone may wish me
dead with the exception that then I’d become a martyr (which I’m not) and
then the American veterans would really burn down the “motherfucking country.”
(You
know that I’m referring to the poem, “The Motherfucking Country”? Correct?
Right? Right.) Moving on.
Ha! How’s that for intensity? (Ha!)
Yes, I can be the shallowest of bitches
because it’s a way to rub peoples’ noses in their own bullshit but I don’t go
there because I’m not that disrespectful.
I gave you everything I had in me, in the
same way that I used to with speedskating, college intramural volleyball,
squash, cross country ski and snowboarding.
What more do you want from me?
You get my soul when I come to this space and
write with my shielded heart and my words upon
my sleeve.
Don’t you think that I feel vulnerable as it
is already?
Gosh, you guys are drab, opinionated, a drag
and ‘heavy’ with all of your wrong judgments about me while I’m inching my way
towards somewhere wonderful. (Ha!)
Love;
Gabriel
Word count: 2,225. Yes!
Tuesday, November 12,
2013
“A goat has a beard--but that doesn’t make
him a rabbi.”
“The man who lives in a house did not
necessarily build it.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Balmy (soothing, refreshing, mild)
There are many balmy days in spring.
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--- ---
----------------------------------
In the year 2013,
over 200 oil spills occurred in North Dakota
“Everybody
knows that the easiest thing in the world is to sell out their neighbors,” a
man said to me and I listened.
Now,
I don’t have all of the details but I hear whispers about some oil company
trying to get a foothold in Minnesota (Carlton County) to get a pipeline built
right across the entire state. (Yeah,
right. What a bunch of losers.)
I’m surprised that in the land of 10,000
Lakes that we haven’t yet arrived at new viable resources to replace oil.
I have nothing against oil except with the way
that it’s run.
I have nothing against oil because our Minnesota family runs an oil
company as well as they got in on the ground with Google. I have nothing
against advancement however responsibilities are vital resources as well as
what any company produces.
Don’t
skuzzy oil executives know that this is the land of 10,000 lakes?
Go take a hike in the woods, literally.
Get in touch with Native American Gods. Get
in touch with something deeper than your egos. Get in touch with natural
beauty. Get in touch with anything real other than your shallow and plastic
selves. Who does anybody think they are?
Gods? I don’t think so.
I’m
not sure as to how to formulate the following composition but let’s just get it out of the way; what a
bunch of corporate assholes to want to build an oil pipeline across the
beautiful state of Minnesota and leave our citizens living on top of filth and
oil spills. (As if.)
Oil is a dirty business and I mean it
literally.
Oil spills are inevitable when it comes to
that dirty business.
You
do realize that there are many dire and significant health complications that
come from oil spills that no amount of money will help out our children and
civilian populations to recover from such a devastating health blow.
Simply
put; I’d say that any governmental
officials or elected civil servants that allows for such a travesty ought to
never see the light of governmental office ever again for as long as they live.
Since government likes hotdog factory work so
much then elected officials can go work at hotdog factories (literally) because
they have no business working for The People or in public office when they cut
secret deals under the table with devils.
What’s
there not to get? I mean, really.
Why
do skuzzy oil executives get away with building oil pipelines and rigs on
natural preserved government lands when those lands are meant to be preserved for
future generations, long after, all of the corporations have ruined Mother
Earth and repeatedly raped her while pretending as though they’ve never even
laid eyes on her.
I believe that skuzzy oil executives are no
different than rapists who the government allows for them to get away with
murder because it’s a lucrative business for them to be in bed together fucking
each other’s brains out while they murder their American civilians and public
lands and nature reserves.
(There I wrote it in black ink for future
readers as a historical reference / foot note, even though this isn’t a
‘legitimate’ historical record yet damn close because I’m writing in the first
person and in the non-fiction genre. Eat it.) (Somebody had to say it and since
I’m neither bought nor sold, I’m no man’s slave then I get to say anything and
have a clear conscious about it because I sleep like a baby at night.)
None
of this is new. Every single word I write is stuff that everybody already knows so it’s a broken record tune. Welcome to
the fun house! (Ha!)
Now,
I was shocked out of my socks when the Minnesotans allowed for motorized boats
on the Boundary Waters Canoe Area.
I almost fell over, spilled my coffee and
burned my thighs when I read about it. I was in shock for about an hour
afterwards because I thought that if any Peoples on Earth could keep motorized
boats out of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area then it was going to be the
Minnesotans but that wasn’t true because some neighbor sold out his neighbors
for a few pieces of metal.
What I can’t seem to understand is why
pockets of neighborhoods and communities sell out when they know better. They
know that if they contribute to the raping of Mother Earth then they, too,
shall spend all of eternity in hell, forever
and ever to the sounds of motorized boats without ever getting a break from
the roaring sounds of engines.
Are the Minnesotans drunkards? I hardly think
so. Sometimes.
As much as the Minnesotan culture rubs me the
wrong way and they’ll keep me out for as long as they can because I’m a
foreigner, hear me, when I tell you that I love to watch the Minnesotans be so
feisty when it comes to their clean air, their wild nature reserves, their
precious natural beauty and wonder and their old growth forests.
I’m right there with them because I believe
that particular tune they sing out in unison and in harmony is one of
leadership, love and tenderness for the Earth.
I love to watch the Minnesotans fight for
what’s right when it comes to preserving natural public lands because it means
that they’re intelligent about the one natural resource that’ll save them well
into the future.
“A
man is nothing without land.” Here! Here!
“The
People are nothing without their preserved natural public parks and forests,
spaces and areas.” Here! Here!
I
almost fell over when the Minnesotan corrupt elected public officials overrode
the overwhelming public majority against funding a football stadium.
I almost burned my thighs, again, but instead
I held the cup far away from my body and cleaned up the spill. It’s hilarious
to watch me read little local newspapers.
Now,
The People of Minneapolis, don’t want to fund an NFL playground because most of
Minneapolis and its inhabitants make around twenty-eight thousand dollars per
annual income, per household of four so the money isn’t there when Minneapolis
is in dire need of well constructed affordable housing, better and free public education
(all the way through college,) public safety, homeless prevention, and, and,
and… the list goes one.
The
mare fact that the Minneapolis government was, too, chicken shit to roll out a
memorandum vote upon the basis of financially bankrolling an NFL stadium is
because the Mayor and the Governor both knew that they’d lose that battle,
hands down. Their constituents would prefer better public education for all and
safer and cleaner streets and more public grants to individuals to start-up
their independent businesses so Minneapolis can flourish like Venice did in the
1500’s.
We need more artisans, crafters, and
independent business professionals, better housing and education for minorities
and better overall professional opportunities and on and on.
I’m
totally against the NFL getting bankrolled by the Minneapolis constituents
because they’re held at gun point.
I’m totally against motorized boats in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area. I’m
totally against Northern Minnesota mining. I’m totally against an oil pipeline
rig across Minnesota.
Why?
Because if Minnesotans don’t know that
their natural beauty and wonders are a thousand times more valuable than all of
these retarded industries combined
then Minnesota doesn’t know what they’ve got on their hands.
Although, I do believe that the Minnesotans
know what they’ve got otherwise they wouldn’t fight so hard to keep it so.
Look:
football is on its way out because whether the NFL admits to this or not; CTE
is quite real and our greatest and most valuable asset are our children, who
can’t lose their memories at any stage in life.
It’s unfair for Minneapolis to be forced to
hand over their taxes to a sport that’ll take away the high quality of life in
their children without so much as a referendum vote.
No parent wants CTE for their children and in
the economically depressed rural and urban areas of Minnesota the parents ought
to be fighting tooth and nail for
better funded public education instead of NFL football stadiums because that
hotdog smells of rectum, anus and butthole.
There’s
no richer asset than natural beauty and wonder when so much of it gets
destroyed every single second of the day.
More trees means more oxygen which means a
healthier way of life. Period. Fact.
In
the future when the East Coast, New York City and Los Angeles have sunk into
the ocean and Japan, North and South Korea and China deal with the aftermath of
excruciating pollution and overwhelming toxicity from high levels of radiation
and all of the wildlife will glow in the dark, when Brazil has become a desert
from deforestation, when most of the Australian and Brazilian jungle Native
Americans have been murdered by their governments for raising a stink about
deforestation and there’s nothing left, and the Middle East increasingly
becomes more of a desert, there will be a Minnesota with its trees to stand
tall and untouched and that’ll make billionaires out of the Minnesotans because
the entire world will want to show their children what a tree looks like.
“If
you build it they will come.” (Ha!)
Minnesotans
have to think long term goals and solutions and not sell out no matter what
because that’s our ‘golden ticket’ to the candy factory instead of the hotdog
factory.
Although factories have their dangers and
disadvantages so we must not think of our forests as commodities instead we
must think of them as living entities, as our Brothers and Sisters because if
the forests don’t survive then neither will the humans and we’re far more
fragile than the Earth is. She’s a tough Lady but she can only take so much of
our collective bullshit.
I
know that the devil is shinny and good looking and it makes promises to exploit
and kill and corrupt anything that is righteous and good like trees, plants and
nature reserves however “You shall not pass here!” (Ha!)
Minnesotans
must stay strong and united in their decision to look towards long term goals
and solutions because when all other natural wonders and areas of the world
have become deserts, then we’ll become leading experts in our ‘field’ to put our capital where our mouths are,
into nature preserves and free public education all the way through to Ph.D.
studies.
Don’t
we want to be the global leaders in these two areas? Yes.
The
United States is no longer a manufacturing country.
We have to get over that notion.
We’ve entered into a new century of
enlightenment.
We must produce with our brains, our wits and
our creative scientific and mathematical brains. We must, because manufacturing
now belongs to Mexico, India and China and Brazil.
Recently,
I read that there’s a company in Edina (I think?) that makes cars from printers
and they run on electricity (I think?).
My heart melt at these new ingenious and
smart and intelligent producers.
I’ve been trying to come up with other modes
of transport for the past fifteen years and they beat me at ingenuity.
I was so proud of them for being so forward
thinking.
I was astounded at their brilliance and
that’s what Minnesota ought to be embracing, new modes of advancements and
innovations. Their cars will be sold at around sixteen thousand when they hit
the market and you know what? That’s wonderful. That means that the upper
middle class will be able to afford to save the planet and the future with such
a purchase. (If I wasn’t so timid I’d love to meet these people, but I don’t
make it a habit to go around and meet strangers.) (These people are some of my
heroes and I have lots of heroes and mentors. What a lucky gal.)
Don’t
you understand, that, brute sports, which cause concussions such as soccer,
hockey and football are now obsolete.
Don’t
you understand that dinosaur industries such as oil and deforestation are now
obsolete.
Why?
Because the world just got itself into a whole new market of brilliant ideas in
how to save the Earth and the human race.
If our children aren’t as smart as other
leading world countries then the Americans don’t
have a leg to stand on and they’ll end up leading quiet lives of desperation because they won’t get ahead as their
parents have found out all, too, well.
This
is a new era of intelligent brains whether uneducated parents like it or not.
Your
one ticket out of impoverished hell holes, barrios, and economically depressed
areas across the United States of America is: brilliance, compassion, and
sympathetic ideas combined with how to save the planet and the human race from
extinction and overcoming starvation and deforestation in a country that’s
richer than the rest of the leading countries.
No,
one may not be shallow in this new era or racist or discriminatory or
prejudiced because it leaves one out of
the running.
If one can’t rise up to the expectations of a
new empathetic and intelligent world then working class will do for your
children and that’s no longer an option in a world of fast technology and
brilliant ideas.
No, emotional intelligence has nothing to do
with being a poser or a hack or a cheater because the thing about the human
cerebral engine is that it either runs or it doesn’t.
If the brain becomes fucked up, by one, too,
many concussions then well, its drool time and food stamps for your offspring
and that’s about it.
Come on, little ones.
Let go of all of your dusty and outdated
ideas from the last century and start reading because that, alone, will save
this nation.
We’re a culture of retards and we stubbornly know it to be true and that’s why we’re
thirteenth in the world when it comes to our children’s intelligence. We’ve
fallen far behind because of laziness, lack of resources and dusty old ideas
about economics.
Trickledown theory has always been awful and
anyone with smart brains has always known that because to be the truth because
the logic doesn’t make any sense.
According to inflation the minimum wage ought
to be at ten dollars and fifty cents ($10.50). Do the math.
Peace;
Gabriel
Word count: 2,380
Monday, November 11,
2013
“Only one type of worry is correct;
to worry because you worry too much.”
“Riches bring anxiety: wisdom gives peace of
mind.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Profligate (wasteful, reckless)
His profligate spending of money soon
made him a poor man.
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--- ---
Happy
Veterans Day 2013!
I
had so many wise words to write but now I seem to have lost most of my literary
concepts I was going to ink about.
(It’s been a long day and soon approaching
five in the evening so I get tired easily as we head into the night. What a
long and fulfilling Monday it has been. I’m tired so most likely my sentence
structure will become vile passive rot.)
I listened to a bit of information about
how veterans are some of the most surveillance of individuals because if
anyone’s going to start a revolution in American then it’s going to be
veterans. (No, I don’t have the facts about this, however, the theory did make
me sit up straighter and I listened harder to the speaker.)
From the very little that I learned about
this theory, it was, that, veterans are angry, injured, wounded, hurt, in pain
and cast aside by our government and by societal culture at large thus this is
a great and natural driving force when it comes to igniting a revolutionary
fire by veterans.
I have to admit that I’ve been completely in
awe at how many homeless and impoverished veterans I’ve met over the years.
No,
I’m no one special but my work as a former documentary filmmaker in the field
brought me to so many different places, environments and situations in which
I’ve listened to many different types of people tell me their life-stories,
trials and tribulations and thus I’ve learned the many realities of these
wounded soldiers and their families.
I’ve been honored to have been bestowed upon
the harrowing stories of our veterans. Again, I’m no one special but I have the
gift to listen to people and not fall asleep on them or get bored or space out,
while they’ve told me about themselves because they trust that I’ll put their
stories and information to good use thus I write with an open heart and an open
mind.
I’m
bewildered by the insurmountable backlog of veteran medical records. We have
physically and mentally wounded and injured soldiers and there’s not much that
can be done about that because the backlog is unorganized, mismanaged and inept
like the “Affordable Health Care for America Act” website.
I’m not sure as to why that is, when it comes
to the Pentagon which has deep pockets of one-hundred billion dollars (I’ll
recheck that number) to “play with” in Afghanistan, that, they can’t set aside
some of that taxpayer’s collected monies and sink it into a veterans’ medical
relief fund because our soldiers on the ground don’t have a need for any more
tanks, that’s for sure.
As for our family members who’ve fought in
Afghanistan they still await for medical relief funds from our government and
this war has dragged on for over three years since our family members, our
veterans have returned home with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.
No,
I don’t have Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome and it’s been proven by
psychologists that I don’t, although, (I lied about it, once (about two years
ago) to a drunkard to test him in his own vile of lies and well, it’s so juicy
to play the village idiot when you’re so much smarter than most.)
I’m simply a writer who likes to perpetually rub it into the faces of this nation that
great injustices do occur while the culture and government looks the other way.
I’m someone who loves to annoy the culture and
hopefully like a puppy that paws away at one’s face to wake up and be taken out
for a walk, the culture will indeed wake up and get some exercise because
they’ll come to comprehend that what I have to say, like a broken record, is of
consequence and importance.
I write to create balance and justice in a
zombie-like culture, in a drugged up nation of self importance and ignorance
about the injustices of others.
I care otherwise I wouldn’t be here annoying
the hell out of the Americans by repeating myself which I hate to do.
No, I’m not here to shock anyone.
I’m here to bring about awareness as any
great sailor knows how to tackle into a head-long wind with speed and finesse
while steering the helm with one hand and pulling on a rope with the other. I’m
like that, and I’ll take to the literary waters for as long as my time ticks
away and the clock winds down. I shan’t capsize this literary vessel because
may Godspeed.
Thus,
as someone who comprehends the dire significance of those who suffer from Post
Traumatic Stress Syndrome (our Afghanistan veteran family members) I can’t
imagine what it’s like to relive flashbacks of bombings of innocent Afghanistan
bystanders and otherwise, vicarious executions, military rape, brute force,
bullets whizzing and flying overhead and next to our soldiers’ faces, not
knowing for sure who the enemy is and getting lied to by the locals, who, want
provisions and help from our soldiers yet want them dead with the lie that
Allah permits such an atrocity.
I can’t imagine what it’s like to come back
to America and relive war torn oppression inside their heads, over-and-over
again with the mental concrete awareness as if they were back there all over
again reliving a hell on Earth.
I can’t imagine what it’s like for our
American soldiers, our Brothers and Sisters to have to endure military rape
amongst their ranks and have to cover up for their bastard commanding officers
who believe that bullying and heinous crimes are a part of a culture that’s all
too alive and thriving behind the closed doors of America yet Americans are
still horrified by our culture of rape which is so prevalent.
It’s our military men who get raped much more
than our military women. What does that say about our war culture? It’s a power
hungry culture and we wonder why our veterans are so pissed off.
Hypothetically; If I were a man, and I had been raped by a
commanding male officer, I’m telling you,
I’d want to come back home and burn down the motherfucking Pentagon. I’d want
to destroy with a vendetta and show Washington D.C. what real power of the
People is.
But because I’m an American woman I expect to
get raped at least once before I die. It’s the honest to God truth about being
a woman in America because every sixty seconds a woman gets raped, here, upon
our soil.
(Except, that, as I get older, I would expect
to kill my potential perpetrator, in self defense. Yes, there would be a cold
dead male’s body on the floor with his scalp missing. I’ve made up my mind
about that and so have many other American women who’ve been sexually assaulted
without much harm brought upon them like myself. I won’t look back because I’ve
become stronger than before. The hippies
should’ve killed me when they had the chance because what doesn’t kill you
makes you stronger and I love to expose assholes. I just do. I no longer
keep silent as I did in my youth about injustices. Since I’ve never been raped
there’s no need for dead bodies but if rape would’ve occurred then I would’ve become
a complete animal and disappeared into the bush never to be found again. If I
would’ve been raped then I would’ve left a trail of dead bodies behind, anyone,
associated with my hypothetical rape. I would’ve gone Maya. I would’ve scalped
and culturally not felt bad about it because that’s any woman’s prerogative as
a Maya Sister. What would you know about
the modern Maya? Absolutely nothing. We live by a much honorable code than
we do here in America. I would’ve killed with my bare hands because this is a
country of filth while the Americans look the other way or I would’ve made one
phone call to the East Coast and that’s all it takes. If I ever go missing or
get harmed again, then there will be bloodshed. I promise you this: because
there are enough pissed off people in power in the East Coast that would love
to sink Minnesota into the mud but I keep reminding them that I live here and
I’ve given my life to this place, planted roots and I stay here. Careful, women
do have value to their persons even when you think they’re nobody to anyone.)
Oh, that felt so good to write like that.
I could spend hours scalping with the plume.
I suggest that our veterans pick up the arts
and sculpt away at their injustices instead of really seeking out vengeance and
killing their perpetrators in cold blood when they return home.
Yes, one can metaphorically kill just as hard
through the arts as one can in cold blood reality.
I can understand why the veterans want to
burn down the “motherfucking country,” however, hear me Brothers and Sisters,
it’s best to get even through success, healthy lifestyles, and positive self
assurance and building for the future.
It’s best to get even by bringing light,
love, peace and balanced power to these dark ages, bring balance to the force.
I’ve forgiven my perpetrators but I shan’t
forget for as long as I live, as I don’t expect you to ever forget the
injustices brought upon your persons in a made-up war.
No, I’m not like you.
I didn’t sign up to be heroic like you.
I didn’t sign up to defend this nation of
ours, except through penmanship.
I can’t tell you how much it means to me that
you’ve fought for us especially when it’s a war of lies, that, which the Bush
and Cheney Administration made-up this war in spite of their vanity, insanity
and more insanity.
These
two men will go to hell for all eternity for murdering so many of our American
soldiers overseas. You know it, I know it, and everybody else knows it to be
true and so do their cronies and their corrupt families who eat off of the
poverty of the Americans. Criminals and the whole country knows it to be true.
If no one has said it before then allow for me to be the first one to
say it; I’m sorry that you’re so hurt, in pain,
wounded and forgotten however you’re not damaged goods.
You’re our hope for a better future. You’re
our lesson for a better and smarter tomorrow. Because of you; we get up, go to
work and run the country even when corporations and the Republican Tea Party
rapes our very way of life as Americans and forces us to carry to full term
their raped babies.
Alas,
hear me, when I tell you that we must believe in peace, kindness and keep it
together for the sake of future generations.
Destruction doesn’t get us anywhere and
forgiveness does.
I’m a true pacifist and have been my entire
life.
I can only hope that our men, our troops, our
women, our troops, find it in them to become civic leaders in these devastating
dark times. May you find it in your hearts to help out the civilian population
because we, too, have had a cultural raping while you’ve been gone.
I can’t imagine what it must be like to live
inside a head-trip of reliving the worst moments of your lives again-and-again
for years to come.
Now, if anything, that, ought to make some
troops bitter yet believe that We, The People love our American soldiers.
Believe that we believe in you because you
fought our war, you fought our battles while our children starved here in
America and our cost in lifestyle quadrupled and our wages went down and
inflation is through the roof without any benefit in salary increases.
Could you imagine having to relive memories
you’d soon rather forget about? I mean really. For those of us who don’t have
Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome our brains don’t force us to have to relive
rape, murder, and war torn hell every single day.
We can and do forget.
We don’t have to relive such horrible
memories and if we do write about them then it’s only as harsh lessons to chap
the arses of this nation with them, to smear shit all over the faces of this
country’s corrupt who look away and believe they have nothing to do with these
crimes against humanity.
Dearest soldiers, while you’ve been gone,
your people have been fighting real tremendous civic wars of their own. Welcome
back. We’ve missed your leadership.
I love, I respect, I admire, I forgive, I
believe, I dream and so shall you in time.
Love;
Gabriel
Word count; 2,115
Friday, November 8,
2013
“When you have a new coat hanging on the
wall,
your old one doesn’t feel ashamed.”
“A homely patch is prettier than an ugly
hole.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Prolific (reproducing rapidly and numerously,
fertile)
The dense growth of young trees shows how prolific
nature is.
---
--- ---
---------------------------------
Flirtation
I’m
not sure what to write about flirtation because well, Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus.
On Wednesday, around four in the afternoon, I
stopped-in at a shop and a young black male in his early twenties stared at me,
straight in the eye, for about thirty seconds or longer while I stood in line
behind him.
He had a beautiful, open, happy and kind
face, yet, nonetheless, he stared at me in what is considered extremely rude
fashion; hence, once a strange man has stared at a woman straight in the eye
for longer than five-to-eight seconds, then he’s crossed a fine line in which
women consider the men creepy no matter how handsome he may be.
After the first fifteen seconds, I felt that
he’d crossed over into the creepy zone. I became annoyed with him seemingly
willing to take up so much of my personal space.
I thought: Oh, God these weird Minnesotans haven’t travelled enough to know large
city etiquette. They haven’t been socialized properly. They’d be eaten alive in
the East Coast.
I thought that perhaps he was either dumb,
stupid, or had never encountered a woman in his young life. He stood there and
looked stupefied and possibly thought that I must’ve been flattered to be
stared at for so long by his incredible doe like eyeballs. How wrong he was.
It’s
one thing to mutually have a woman and man look at each another, it’s quite
another for a strange man to continually stare at a woman, without a break,
after she’s looked away several times because it becomes quite obvious to
anyone near, that she’s not flirting at all, instead she’s become quite
uncomfortable with the flirtatious empty stare of the male gaze.
She’s become quite uncomfortable because
she’s realized that she’s become hunted and that she’s crossed over into the
realm of meat to be devoured. She stopped being a human to that man and becomes an object of the male gaze. Gross. Women
are so much more complex than that of the male gaze.
Every port in the storm, I guess.
Uncouth and ignorant men, more often than
not, seem to think, that if they “make eyes” at a woman, then she’s just going
to roll over and let her vagina hang out to be fondled. Absolutely not. Keep on dreaming. I get it. It’s tough
for men to get laid in general and it’s always been that way since the
beginning of time and it’ll probably be that way until the end of time.
He wouldn’t let up.
He wouldn’t let go of his male gaze.
My skin crawled and I thought: what a little pervert.
I thought: oh, he’s just crazy with lust, self
importance and out of his wits.
It was apparent that his ego drove him
therefore his private parts were hanging out and visible a yard away.
I thought about his small penis because only
a man with a small penis thinks that he can get away with secretly insulting a
woman out in the open, make her into a piece of meat and make it seem her
fault. What freaks. She knows the difference and so does everybody else.
I
knew that he wasn’t a creep but he was pulling all the stops to be noticed like
one, by noticing me, all, too, deeply and too long and that’s considered
freakish at the best of times.
A man doesn’t have to be creepy to come
across as creepy. It was clear that he was a fine fellow but again devilish
aspects of life are shiny and attractive, not ugly and grotesque.
He might not have been a creep but his
demeanor was and that took him out of the running all completely. Women can see
straight through that.
After
thirty seconds of getting stared at, I looked back at him and frowned to make
it clear that whatever he was selling I wasn’t interested.
“Hello,”
He said to me in his velvety voice as though I was lucky to be in the presence
of a Demigod but really he was just a male-child.
“Dude,
it’s been a very long day,” I said to him in the most nonchalant skateboarder
style of communication possible, to convey, ‘chill-out,’ ‘relax,’ I’m not going
to bite but I sure will put you in your place.
“You’re
staring at me,” I said.
“No,
I was looking over there,” he protested. But that wasn’t true, he’d been
staring straight at me the entire time and I caught him in a white lie. I got
even more turned off by him.
He
jokingly and slightly sneered and caught himself from a full sneer because he
couldn’t believe that I was dead serious in my approach towards him.
He looked away and became slightly
uncomfortable by how straight forward I was. He pretended to look at objects on
a shelf. Now, it was my turn to stare at him with his back to me.
“It’s
been a long day,” I told his back. “It’s been one of those days,” I kindly
repeated myself with exhaustion in my voice because I was terribly tired. So
much had already occurred by four in the afternoon on Wednesday.
He
half sneered again to shield and protect himself because whatever he’d tried
out on me didn’t and wasn’t going to work. It was apparent that I could’ve been
his mother yet he wanted to pick me up so badly and well, Oedipus.
I
think that the new generation of male in their early twenties must’ve read
something about the “three second eye stare” and thus they believe that if they
stare down women with a Fabio look then women will roll over however what they
don’t take into consideration is that the three
second eye stare is just that; three seconds.
By the time thirty seconds have passed and a
strange man is still staring at a woman with utter and creepy fascination then
all she’ll want to do is to get as far away from that man as she possibly can.
I did. I was like: Oh, get me the hell
out of here and ran.
Yes,
I think that no matter how much time passes by and that no matter how many
generations pass on that the three second
eye stare is three seconds because after that we’re getting into a deeply
intimate and strange place for any stranger to want to go there with another
who they know nothing about.
For all I knew, was, that, he was a male
prostitute and there’re plenty of those in this city or any other city for that
matter. I wasn’t going to go there or anywhere else with him in public relation
as strangers to one another.
If you know people and are acquainted with
them, then do look them straight in the eye, no doubt about that.
I hate to write this because it’s the goddamn
truth, however, women, especially petite and femme women, can stare as hard and
as long as they want at men and other butch women.
Why? Because when it comes to weaker body
frames, everybody already knows that
a smaller and weaker woman isn’t going to drag a man off into the woods and
rape him. It’s the law of nature.
If I wanted to, which I don’t but if I wanted to stare at another then I’m granted
that because at 5’2” I’m neither as muscular as others nor aggressive in my
approach.
It’s apparent that I’m not going to take on a
6’1” and two-hundred pound male, drag him off and rape him. It’s obvious that that’s not my
intension so I may stare at him even if it creeps him out because the balance
of nature is so, however, as a modern sophisticate I don’t go around and stare
at people unless I’m in the car and safely guarded from others or if others are
performing on stages.
At times, I have stared at people only
because I was interested in doing a photo shoot but people never believe that I’m a professional photographer so I don’t ask,
rather I soak in their looks and take a moment to memorize people’s facial
structures, knowing perfectly well that I’ll not get to photograph them, ever,
because there are so many creepy people with that line and that’s just not so
with me. Anybody who’s ever sat for me as a model knows perfectly well that I
take my work seriously and that I’m not after their underwear, private parts
and so on.
If
I do stare at people it’s because they either have boogers, food or stains on
their faces or clothes. No, I don’t make a habit of staring because I know
exactly what it’s like to be stared at with fascination while in public by
strangers.
Plus, people tell me that I have the most
intense dark brown eyes and people feel like the entire universes reside there
so I have to be quite careful as to where and how I look at others so that they
feel comfortable with me and not flirted or mistaken by…
Flirting
is a fine art, which, I’ve never been good at, so I just stay away from it all
together and am sincere, which, I guess, sincerity is a form of flirtation, but
it sure beats having to be over the top, overt and with one’s vagina hanging
out and drooling for the other. Please.
I, too, am human and get turned on by…
Yes, believe it or not; as a married woman, I
can get turned on, however, it doesn’t mean that I want to rip my clothes off
and go at it. Please, don’t turn me off.
I’m the type of woman who’s turned on by
intellectuality, great discussion that seems flawless and not stuck in reverse
throttle, going backwards almost ramming into a dock.
I like people who can speak just about
anything other than themselves, their work and their egos. It’s a great turn on
to meet people who know a little bit about many things but that’s rare because
it means that people have to educate themselves to read a lot about a whole
lot. I’m more turned on by the brain than by the body.
If a man does make me feel awkward then it’s
no good because like any communication or miscommunication it takes two to
tango and it’s not possible to believe that one person can mess-up an entire
dialogue all by themselves, thus it’s considered a dialogue.
Once, I’ve been personally made to feel
awkward and turned off then good luck with that because a second chance is as
far away as Sri Lanka is to us now.
If something’s gone wrong in miscommunication
it’s because there was a glitch between all parties involved. Miscommunication
can’t be blamed solely on one party, it’s not possible, it’s considered a lie
to put the blame only on one party, unless...
In
conclusion; different people are turned on by many different things and I
respect that because that’s sacred.
In my twenties it wasn’t possible just to go
out, dine and have many different dates at once, that, one, didn’t sleep with,
but, rather got to know each other, slowly over time. Plus, the men in my generation were dirt poor
and most still are so it’s not like they could take women out other than to
their beds.
Most of my generation wanted to sleep with as
many people as possible and as quickly as possible. That wasn’t the only
standard in the Midwest that goes for most of the United States. Dating in other
nations is quite different than in the United States.
I
love watching people fall in love and make a go at it in life because there’s
nothing more difficult than people falling into mutual respect, liking and
mutual admiration for one another.
You’d think that people coming together in
friendship or in romance would be the easiest thing in the world, but in
reality, it turns out to be the toughest thing ever because people are scared,
stubborn and afraid that the other will deny them, eventually.
I can understand that.
I’m
one of the most timid people when it comes to making the first non-romantic
move, although, I will, because I’m the woman.
It’s any woman’s prerogative to invite any
man out for a meal since she feels that she’ll be safe in his presence
otherwise she wouldn’t.
Yes, welcome to the twenty-first century.
The reason why women will ask men out is
because in a world of so many creepy men it is up to the woman to choose a
mate, a partner, a friend as to whom she’ll feel safe with.
Men will always
be safe for the most part but women aren’t and it’s up to her to choose well so
they are safe because it’s also the women who have the money now a days and not
the men.
What a changed world it’s become.
It’s any man’s honor to have a woman work up
her courage to ask him out. It just is.
Men don’t realize how intimidating it is to ask them out but it is and that’s
the reason as to why it’s such an honor to have a woman ask.
With all due respect a man has the right to
say, no, however why should he? He’s got nothing to lose and an entirely free
meal to take down.
I’d rather have a man tell me that I’m, too,
ugly for his taste than give me the brush off. Although, if a man gives a woman
the brush off, then a woman gets to know more about his character than she ever
would over a meal.
She gets to learn that he’s either a coward
or self important and that he probably could not defend her if he needed to.
Ouch. If a man can’t be straight with a woman then he can’t really be straight
with other men, either.
I’m a modern woman.
What can I say? Not much.
Now,
that I’m married, I don’t make romantic moves. I get laid just fine, thank you,
and its great and often since you’re so
curious about my sex life.
I mean, “friendship
moves” with potential opposite-sex friendships.
No, I don’t want potential male friendships to even so much as consider that I have
a romantic interest in them.
I reserve that right for my husband, only,
however in a culture of so much jealousy and envy it’s quite difficult to make
male / female friendships in adulthood without wives and live-in-girlfriends
losing their brains about it.
Gosh, the human species hasn’t come far.
Peace;
Gabriel
Work count: 2,481
Thursday, November 7,
2013
“Through intelligence and knowledge
man comes to resemble the character of
angels.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Prolix (wordy, lengthy, long-winded)
His speech was so prolix that his
audience grew restless.
---
--- ---
-----------------------------
Note: You’ll
get over the negative criticism. I did.
I got my ego ripped apart while in world
renowned writing workshops and well, I’m a better “man” for it. I’ve became
thick skinned through that literary process of ripping my heart out and placing
it back together.
What you don’t seem to understand is that
I’ve already gone through everything I’m putting the reader through. I’ve been
there, done that and more than thrived.
I came out on the other end able to take-on
any brute, liar, enemy or hater in conflict and debate. What. Do you really
believe that people in world renowned writing workshops are best friends?
Please.
For the most part, not, however, some of my closest friends are
indeed from world renowned writing workshops, but I think it had something to
do with the fact that I was considered the worst grammatical writer and thus I
wasn’t considered any type of real competition to my peers, even though
confidentially the Masters told me, that, I was the best writer however rotten
at basic syntax and because of that reason, alone, I had no other choice other
than to continue writing unless I wanted to waste my natural talents.
The Masters told me to get an editor when I
was ready to publish my first novel and forget about how rotten I was at basic
grammar and syntax because it takes a certain type of emotional talent to be
gifted at writing and that I had it no matter how much I couldn’t remember
where commas went, quotations and parenthesis.
Thus I kept quiet amongst my literary peers
about been considered one of the best storytellers and realized early on that
my peers liked reading my juicy storylines even though they tore apart my
writings with a vendetta to possibly make me cry if they could but I never gave
them that satisfaction because I’d already known the truth about my natural
life-given talents and I was elated that I could write at their caliber at all,
even though I was English as a Second Language and stupid when it came to
perfect grammar.
Other world renowned workshop writers were
the competition and I learned rather quickly that they were there to rip apart
anybody’s writing who got in the way of their success. As a naïve Costa Rican I
had no idea how much writers hated their competition but I soon found out.
------------------------------
Note: No,
I don’t need your pity however I’d like to share that we’ve lost our Moose
Lake, Willow River friend three weeks ago, today.
It’s been a tremendous loss to that area and
to our family and friends. Our friend was a respected and well liked teacher at
Willow River School and we shall forever remember her memory. We keep her
family in our prayers.
As we age, we’ve been watching our friends
pass away in their late forties and early fifties. It’s difficult to lose so
many young people to cancer. I can’t say anymore than that because I don’t have
the will to write about it.
R.I.P. Alana Marie “Alaina” Privette
----------------------------
Note: I
love seeing all of the pink lit-up buildings throughout the Twin Cities in the
united fight against cancer.
Upon a nightly basis I look at the Foshay
Tower and my heart swells with hope for this continuous fight against cancer.
Our family and friends have dealt hard and
crushing blows, watching our beloved ones fight cancer and ultimately lose that
battle all together.
Because we’ve lost so many to cancer, I feel
a sense of hope when I look upon pink lit-up buildings at night. I don’t feel
so alone in this fight; which our family members and friends deal with on a
daily basis, in the fight for their lives, literally.
As innocent bystander all we can do is
support and love others however it’s not enough. It’s so weird not to be able
to do more for them.
I
want you to know that my literary alter ego is a crabby and curmudgeon old man
however in my woman’s heart I hold deeply felt sentiments in which I cherish so
many wonderful and incredible people that have touched me deeply, especially
the Minnesotans.
If you really think that I hate the Minnesotans
then think again. I’m challenging them to become better, to strive for better
and to be better as we watch our friends die gruesome and harsh deaths to
cancer.
If you really think that I don’t have a heart
then do so, however, I, too, am human. If you’ve never been dealt such a blow
as to watch family members and friends die of cancer then you have no idea how
much love, one can carry inside their hearts for another.
We love, we live, we give thanks, we rejoice
and we keep those that we love in our memories and in our prayers.
-------------------------------
Note: Please
keep in mind that it’s prostate cancer awareness month. Please make time for
regular checkups because that’s a painful way to die.
For three months, I closely watched one man
die such a terrible death and I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemies. The
pain seemed unbearable and difficult as I watched him go through such a
struggle as I helped run his company in the last year of his life.
---------------------------
Note: There’s
so much to be said about the Affordable Health Care for America Act.
I really like the entire concept to forge
forth and create health care coverage for our American People. What a decent
and thoughtful thing to do for so many who suffer in America and go bankrupted
and homeless because they can’t pay their insurmountable medical debt.
Hip! Hip! Hooray for the Affordable Health
Care for America Act.
Now, I’ve just recently been informed that
our health care insurance will go up by thirty percent (30%) on July 2014 and
that’s a lot of money. I hope it’s worth it when we already pay five-hundred
dollars ($500.00) per month for health care insurance coverage for me, alone.
Please don’t gouge us because we work so hard
for our every morsel of economic dribble as “Middle Class” Americans.
I hope that we haven’t been manipulated about
what’s to take place because as Middle Income Earners we already pay taxes
through the roof and we don’t mind because we’re the backbone of America but
we, alone, can’t carry this nation on our backs or our backs will be snapped in
two and broken.
Yes, Middle Income Earners are an endangered
species and we have to do something about that just as we did for the American
Bald Eagle.
I’m so proud to call myself an American in
these trying and difficult times as we transition into a caring health care
system for our lovely citizens and civilians who so dearly require and need the
assistance of a compassionate health care system and from their fellow
Republican politician Americans.
In
the terrible decade of my twenties, I went seven years without health care
insurance and I learned how to care for whooping cough, a dislocated shoulder,
chronic bronchitis (because I lived in some cold flats and slums without much
heat) and re-occurring pneumonia as well as hemorrhaging without annual
physical checkups or pap smears.
It was a trying time for sure, to say the
least. The pain in my body was quite real. There was nothing psychosomatic about
my pain.
I was devastated and quite saddened at the
very fact that there was no one or any system to help me out in such trying
times.
I have to admit that I kept the pain and the
devastation all to myself and never let on how difficult it was because I was
already undernourished and starved and I was quite ashamed to be poor.
I felt that it was my fault that I had no
help in such dire and tremendously grotesque circumstances as mine even though
I worked sixteen hours a day and still couldn’t afford to purchase an apple in
a three year period. You want to talk about thick skinned. Let’s. (Ha!)
I suffered in silence and alone.
No, I don’t wish such devastation upon any
American or human to endure the type of suffering that I did because it’s the
type of suffering that cripples the weak, and strengthens the mighty.
You have to be a strong willed soul to make
it through that and if you aren’t strong then it’ll break you and we can’t have
none of that, for sure.
I
don’t want to write too much about the dysfunctional health care website
because we all know that’s a bummer, however, be patient and realize that our
American dream is being created before our very own eyes just as social
security was.
To work out the kinks of this grandiose
operation can’t be easy even though I disagree with our American government
hiring a Canadian company who had already been fired by the Canadian
government, previously.
What I can’t seem to understand is this:
America with Silicon Valley and all of our tech savvy professionals; why didn’t
our government hire one of our own?
It goes back to the previously sewn U.S.
Olympic uniforms that were made in China. It just doesn’t make any sense, does
it? Nope.
Someone dropped the ball, hardcore and that’s
a pity to watch badly played basketball in the making but overall our health
care system is racking up the points because believe it or not; our American
citizens are so excited about affordable health care that I’m also happy for
them in winning this battle and this fight towards affordable health care for
all.
I rejoice in such an incredible
accomplishment.
No, I don’t write about my sad and difficult
history to get pity out of the reader.
I write about such a difficult history,
because I kept my silence all those years ago, when I should’ve been raging
against such a terrible system and wage slavery, however, the theme of that
story at that time was that it was my fault for being so poor, and, that, I
wasn’t working hard enough, but I almost killed myself working sixteen hour
days, three part time jobs, while undernourished, so I could barely raise my
voice for others much less for myself and now that I can, well, I’ve become a
“hellion on wheels” when it comes to writing and fighting for the poor of this
American nation of ours.
I always knew that if I made it into my
mid-thirties as a healthy and well-fed individual that I am today then I would
fight a philosophical fight for the poor because I owe it to myself, to speak
up, all these years later, when no one had or did for me when I most needed it.
I’m classy like that and you have nothing to
say to me about that because I could beat anyone at debate when it comes to the
injustices of the poor, the wage slavery and the malnourished of contemporary
America. Just try it. I’d lick you dry. We wouldn’t want any of that, would we
now? Nope.
No, I’m not bitter about what happened to me
because I’m here today to raise a stink about it and for those who can’t
because they’re too hungry or devastated to do so.
Yep, I was meant for greatness even if you
hate my guts because of it.
Yep, I was meant for success even when you
deny me my failures.
Yep, I was meant to be happy even if you wish
me ill intent.
Yep, I was meant to be me in this century
even if you wish me dead.
Yep, I was meant to be beautiful even if you
consider dark skin, ugly.
Ha! I’m laughing my ass off all the way to
the bank. Eat it.
There’s no shame in being poor, anywhere.
----------------------------
Note: As
for Minnesota, the Twin Cities and Minnesotans, let’s flirt in a literary
fashion for one moment before I leave for the day.
Now, without staring at me in some creepy
fashion, I want and desire for the Twin Cities to become the next New York City
but I refuse to give it to you in a handheld basket when I deal with so much
racism, discrimination and prejudice on a weekly basis just running errands
around town. Pity.
Why should I hand it over to you when you
can’t practice decent and fair communication with others especially when it
comes to positive conflict resolution?
I would like to see the Twin Cities make a
decent bagel to start off, because that’s the staple of life when there’s
nothing else for the poor and devastated.
I would like to see more “Mom ‘n’ Pop” shops
in this city because that’s what New York City thrives off of.
I’d like to see less bicyclist hit and runs.
I’d like to see better distinguished bicycle
lanes in hot neon colors because forest green is invisible at nighttime whether
urban engineers like it or not or whether it’s expensive or not; it’ll save
lives and that’s all that matters.
I’d like to see more minority run businesses.
I’d like to see more minority business grants
and business loan investments.
I’d like to see better education and housing
for minorities.
I’d like to see a sea of racial faces in the
workforce.
I’d like GMO food labeling.
I’d like for food subsidies and food stamps
to be given credit where credit is due otherwise our working poor and poor will
starve to death.
I’d like to see downtown, Minneapolis thrive
like Manhattan because downtown, Minneapolis is our Manhattan and must become
alive, stay alive and have a real and constant value to it otherwise visitors
will fly over.
I’d like… I’ve got to run.
Love;
Gabriel
Word count: 2,319
Wednesday, November
6, 2013
“If you know, tell; if you can, do; if you
have, hold on to it.”
“The virtue of angels is that they cannot
deteriorate;
their flaw is that they cannot improve.
Man’s flaw is that he can deteriorate;
and his virtue is that he can improve.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Passive (inert, inactive, unreceptive, submissive,
reflexive, reactive, flaccid)
Aggressive (violent, hostile, destructive, belligerent,
antagonistic)
---
--- ---
Oh,
my! Thanks for the information.
“Minnesota
Nice” is code for quiet racist.
I finally get it.
It’s
taken me all these years to figure out why “Minnesota Nice” is such malarkey,
chaos and two-faced hater.
One more note: “Minnesota Nice” was also made up by
advertisers and the culture bought into it so that they could sell the state.
“Minnesota Nice” isn’t a cultural perspective, it’s an advertising one. What a
bunch of shallow…
Yes,
I find that Minnesota is one of the most quietly racist, discriminatory and
prejudiced places one can ever encounter. It’s boring in that regard and
nothing much can be done about that.
Now, the politics might be moderate and
left-winged but the culture is a racist one that hates with the passion of
devils because white Minnesotans self-loath, are envious and jealous types.
I’m not really sure as to why Minnesotans hate
so much. It’s not like many of them are well travelled, know much about good
food, or dance.
Yes, this is a culture that’s exclusive and
not inclusive and that’s why it’s one of the dullest places in the world to
live in because everybody sticks to their
upbringing classes and that’s about it.
I’ve
been informed by psychologists and professional medical experts that incest is
ramped in white culture while brutality is ramped in black culture of
Minnesota. Pity.
No wonder there’s so much hatred amongst the
Minnesotans. Their hurt is a deep one that goes far back to their childhoods
therefore they can’t really allow for others to be included into a cultural
scene, or Minnesotans are quite frightened that they’ll be found out to be the
children of incest and brutality.
The cat is out of the bag, we all know perfectly well what Minnesotans
hide and what eats away at them.
Aside from the fact that it’s a dull and
racist culture and only white people
get ahead; it’s also one based upon cultural fear.
It’s the weirdest and oddest thing to see
that Minnesota has been left far behind in the dust by contemporary culture.
It’s as if Minnesotans are proud to be “hicks,” “trailer trash,” and
“ignoramuses,” thus leave them be. They revel in their ignorance while the rest
of us move on.
No,
I don’t believe that neither Minnesota nor the Twin Cities is conducive to
become the next New York City unless they change their act within the next nine
years but don’t hold your breaths.
I’ve lived in the Twin Cities for nine
straight years and I can’t stand this culture of hatred, inclusiveness and
shallowness. It’s a luke-warm dumb culture that pretends to be smart.
I’ll
tell you why Minnesota isn’t conducive to become the next New York City. The
Twin Cities aren’t good enough to become the next New York City because it’s a
culture based upon racial prejudice and discrimination and hatred therefore one
can’t plunk the next New York City here and make it wealthy beyond its wildest
dreams when it quietly hates so much, especially minorities.
If a landscape of people or a culture are
exclusive to minorities then it has no business conducting the world’s business
because then it means that when it comes to global economies then the weird
culture will insure that only whites get ahead and it’ll create an even deeper
divide between the have and the have-nots.
We can’t have any of that because then we’d allow for ‘white devils’
to get away with crucifying their brothers and sisters of color at the
financial stake and well, you already know how I feel about philosophical
murder; it’s bad, really bad.
Another
reason as to why the next New York City can’t be plunked down in the Twin
Cities is because the worst drivers in the world exist here and we just can’t
have any of that.
Minnesotans are drivers who refuse to learn
what “Merge” means and therefore they almost get others killed on a daily
basis. Nope.
Yep, the worst drivers in America are
Minnesotans even though they chuckle and think it’s funny--its serious business
indeed. The second worst drivers are those from Wisconsin and the third worst
drivers are from Iowa.
Plus, Minnesotans love to text and talk on
the phone while they drive. Very dangerous, very dangerous drivers indeed, be
careful.
In the Midwest, young people are taught that
it’s okay to drive drunk out of their wits and that’s just a cultural habit
that requires to be nipped in the arse. Why does Minnesota care so much about
drunken athletes?
I’ve never met so many alcoholic athletes in
my entire life as I have in the Midwest. Drowning their sorrows away, I
suppose. Maybe, the pressure is too much for them because that’s all they have,
to get out of their current devastating economic situations.
Another
reason as to why the next New York City can’t be plunked down in the Twin
Cities is because the food isn’t very good and
that’s putting it mildly.
The food is mostly God forsaken awful but
Minnesotans don’t know it because they’ve hardly ever travelled anywhere else
to know any better so they swear by their food without knowing how ignorant
they come across to those who do know better.
I mean in order to become the sole
proprietors of the global market; the culinary arts must be extraordinary and
the main populous can’t ever get sick
off of the food because you only get one chance to make a go at it.
There are no real delis or bakeries to speak
of here in the Twin Cities therefore it’s not a real metropolis because without
those two main inexpensive culinary sources and modes of food to feed all types
of classes then a city can’t prosper because every established and well thought
out metropolis must guarantee it’s populous inexpensive and excellent food in
which no matter how selfishly rich a city may get, it guarantees families great
food at inexpensive prices because families come first, or the city knows, all,
too, well that it can’t survive without a strong backbone thus it guarantees
great and fresh foods at a low cost, forever.
Another
reason as to why the next New York City can’t be plunked down in the Twin
Cities is because Minnesotans are passive aggressive cruel and believe that the
rest of the world communicates in such a manner but really it’s only the narrow
minded dusty Minnesotans who stick to their guns about this without realizing
that the world left them far behind when it comes to sophisticated
communication.
Most Minnesotans will sabotage others in the
work place especially white women who embezzle thousands-upon-thousands of
dollars from companies and get others fired upon the premise that they aren’t
“team players.”
Get over the “team work” notions because
those don’t exist and that concept is outdated by twenty years.
Every true professional knows that it never
worked out, anyway, but it sure makes for a great lie to force victims to work
alongside bullies who take all the credit.
In Minnesota, people make themselves believe
that “team work” is everything but then everyone
stabs each other in the back because they’re afraid someone’s going to steal their
tips.
I believe that Minnesota is one of the most
dangerous places to professionally work because if the Minnesotans don’t like
you, if you’re not sheep like they are, or if you don’t want to be like them or
won’t agree to everything they say, then they’ll do everything in their power
to create malevolence against others; and steal their co-workers livelihoods
away from them, and for that one reason alone, Minnesota can’t be the next New
York City because we must guarantee future professional workers stability in
the work place and their livelihoods otherwise Minnesotans aren’t worth
anything as a culture of hypocrites and double standards, two-faced donkey’s
asses.
The
reason as to why Minnesotans take pride in their passive aggressive modes of
communication is because they’re a dusty and outdated peoples therefore they’re
no competition upon the global markets.
Minnesotans are terrified of conflict however
they quietly create it and more so they’re afraid to communicate with
empathetic compassionate straightforwardness because they’re afraid of straight
forward truths without harming others
and they hate to give credit where credit is due.
Minnesotans hate conflict but they sure are a
deviant bunch who’ll help put out a fire they started.
It’s tough to figure them out and they like
it that way because confusion evokes fear and a culture of fear is unstable
because they so badly want to be winners but they can’t keep up with
contemporary culture and they take great pride in their wicked dusty and stale
ways.
Minnesotans are full of envy and jealousy
which creates misguided quiet and subtle anger and hatred in their hearts which
sits there and festers away until it turns to acid and they eventually end up
throwing it in your face when they can no longer take the coldness of their
hearts, any longer.
Yes,
I dare Minnesotans not to speak ill of
others hence they’ve walked away but it’s close to impossible to do so
because they’re a culture of two-faced hypocrites.
I
dare the Minnesotans to hold their tongues once someone has turned their backs.
It’s not possible because the culture is one of corrupt gossip.
It’s sad to live in a land in which people
are so hateful that they’re constantly looking to sabotage others especially if
they believe others to be better than them at anything.
Minnesotans take great pride in their passive
aggressiveness but it’s a great way to create injustice, fear and confusion
upon those who weren’t born here or aren’t originally from Minnesota.
Oh, the Minnesotans hate that they’ve been
raped by their fathers and brutally beaten by their mothers, so leave them
alone because it’s not like they’re ever going to be inclusive anyway so what’s
the point in seeking out their friendship? There isn’t one not when it comes to
making this place 'stinkin’ rich'.
No wonder Minnesota is a fly-over state.
Yes, Minnesotans come across as sweet people
to your face but I’ve sat in rooms and listened to women talk about how they
were going to “rip apart” other much prettier women’s lives and make their
lives a living hell just because the Minnesota men liked the prettier foreign
women and not the Minnesota women who much of the time look like German men or
horses. (Ouch. Its Minnesota men who’ve told me that about Minnesota women. No, don’t Kill the Messengers.)
I’ve listened to Minnesota men who’ve talked
about raping women (as a joke) to get even with them for being snobs. Oh, my
Gods, my breath left my body to discover how cruel, insensitive and nasty these
cold-hearted and devastated peoples truly are.
I feel sorry for them.
I feel true pity for the Minnesotans and
their self-loathing.
Yes, I’ve stopped going out of my way to make
any type of friendships with the Minnesotans as a mature adult.
I already know what’s out there and well,
what’s the point?
There isn’t one thus I guess I’ll grow old
and alone without a social scene of my own because I’m considered a foreigner
in these parts and a married woman who refuses to put out just because it’s
expected of me as an artist.
(It’s not as dire as all that. We do get
invited to parties all the time. I do have friends however not one large social
scene and I guess that’s as well.)
Another
reason as to why the next New York City can’t be plunked down in the Twin
Cities is because downtown Minneapolis is constantly unstable with their
businesses.
It’s been brought to my attention as to the
reasons as to why downtown becomes a ghost town every several years or so and
it’s because the owners of buildings, kick out their tenants to have the spaces
renovated by contractors in which the contractors make massive fortunes but
then the culture is left destitute and a ghost town resides and none of the
owners care so long as they make money for the contractors.
There’s no logic or long term goal oriented
solutions when it comes to conducting dysfunctional business under such terms.
If there’s no consistency then why should we
care if downtown, Minneapolis continues forward?
There’s no reason to sink money into
something that’s going to become a ghost town within a few years for interior
decorating and remodeling. It leaves the topography of our city destitute and everybody else knows it.
You should see, downtown Minneapolis as of
late. The rent is high as hell and it’s become a ghost town within the last
several months. It’s horrible and well, pointless.
What
more is there to say?
Nothing.
Minnesota
and more so the Twin Cities has to prove that it can be inclusive, that artists
don’t have to sleep with manager types in order to get grants, that passive
aggressive is the most uncouth and un-cool thing in the world because the world
is leaving Minnesota behind. That mean hipsters for waiter staff aren’t worth
frequenting their restaurants because it leaves a horrible taste in one’s mouth
and it’s not worth anybody’s money.
Minnesota
has to prove that it can learn to drive, that it can learn to make a kick ass
bagel and pastries, that it can make great food and feed the masses without
making them ill or broke.
Minnesota
has to prove that it can hold its tongue when people walk away from them especially
after positive conflict has been resolved.
Minnesota
has to change and evolve because the bullshit of passive aggressiveness is
neither something the stockbrokers, billionaires and sophisticates do make time
for nor are they going to make time for it when real and serious business is on
the line and must be conducted accordingly.
Global economies won’t stop to pet egos on
the back especially passive aggressive mean-spirited egos. To have to slow down
and pet a passive aggressive human on the back is to slow down productivity,
progressiveness and development just because they’re stubborn to new change.
Only a snot nosed abuser conducts themselves
in a passive aggressive manner because they can’t get their way.
Nope,
the rest of the world isn’t going to put up with Minnesota’s bullshit and
that’s what will keep the Twin Cities from becoming the next New York City.
You know it, I know it and everybody else
knows it to be true.
“Nobody’s pretendin’ nothin’.”
I hate having to spell it out because it
pains me to be so goddamn honest about it.
Yes, Minnesotans are hard workers, but they
also sabotage their co-workers and that’s a sixty-thousand dollar loss per
year.
Every time that a company has to hire and
train an entirely new employ it costs a company a whopping sixty-thousand.
Think about it in such terms if you don’t like it the other way.
I
want the Twin Cities and Minnesota to continue to prosper and in nine years
I’ll let you know if this place deserves a major metropolis and as for right
now I say, no.
Love;
Gabriel
P.S. As of this August 2013, we have one
pedestrian per average on a daily basis run out in front of our car. We no
longer have ten pedestrians per average run out, only one but that’s all it
takes to get us killed while we drive.
Yes, the best Pizza in the world is: “Pig Ate
My Pizza” and that’s no exaggeration. I’ve had pizza all over the place and
this is the best pizza out there. Sorry, New York City but “Pig Ate My Pizza”
has got you beat by a long shot.
Word count; 2,630
Tuesday, November 5,
2013
“God prefers your deeds to your Ancestors’
virtues.”
“Jews accord special honor (koved) to a man or woman
because of the notable merits, virtue, good
deeds,
or learning of his or her ancestors.
The commandment to “honor thy father and
mother”
carried power in Jewish thought
second only to that accorded the Almighty.
Affluent Jews would try to marry their
daughters to young men of illustrious intellectual background, however poor;
and for their sons they sought scholars’
daughters as brides.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Abscond (to steal off and hide, to depart secretly)
There was no reason to believe he would abscond
with funds from the bank.
---
--- ---
(Excerpts)
On Writing; A Memoir of the Craft
By
Stephen King
Page 150
Talent
renders the whole idea of rehearsal meaningless; when you find something at
which you are talented, you do it (whatever it
is) until your fingers bleed or your eyes are ready to fall out of your head.
Even when no one is listening (or reading, or watching), every outing is a
bravura performance, because you as the creator are happy. Perhaps, even
ecstatic. That goes for reading and writing as well as for playing a musical
instrument, hitting a baseball, or running the four-forty. The sort of
strenuous reading and writing program I advocate--four to six hours a day,
every day--will not seem strenuous if you really enjoy doing these things and
have an aptitude for them; in fact, you may be following such a program
already. If you feel you need permission to do all the reading and writing your
little heart desires, however, consider it hereby granted by yours truly.
----------------------------
I
don’t feel like writing today, not because I don’t love it or because I don’t
have anything to write about but because and actually I have much, too, much to
write about, however, I can’t seem to organize the insurmountable material
floating around inside my mind.
I love to write, as it is already common knowledge and obvious that I come to the
page Monday through Friday, diligently and with joy, however, as much as I
don’t like to admit this to anyone, the weather does things to my body. The
weather greatly affects me.
Mainly, it’s been cloudy here for the past
two days.
I simply want to curl up under a soft blanket
with a great book, a small cup of ice cream, excellent tea and deliciously high
quality cookies and read for hours on end, yet, there’s much still to be done,
today, thus I’m forcing myself to write if for any other reason other than to
be disciplined and to give this disciplinary cause, justice.
No, I’m not a bragger when it comes to
writing or about any other art medium for that matter, however, if I’m to prove
myself then I must come to the page and fill in the blank spaces.
Most
‘loosely’ acquainted people I know, don’t even know that I’m a private
playwright, a screenwriter or that I write a weekly blog.
Most of my short term acquaintances of the
past have been lead to believe that I’m a dishwasher, so you see, there aren’t,
too, many people who realize that much of my work is one of thought and
consequence.
No, I don’t mind playing the part of ‘village
idiot’ because it says so much more about others than it does about me. It’s
amazing how much one learns by watching others beat-up on someone whom they
supposedly believe to be a village idiot. It’s lots of fun because one comes to
realize quite quickly that their ignorance and arrogance drives them and their
humility is stuck up their…bonnets. (Ha!)
Anyway,
back to the weather; on such cloudy days I don’t want to do anything but read
or watch old black and white films. On days like these I could climb into a hot
bathtub and forget that the world exists. On days like these I’d love to spend
an hour training myself how to walk on stilettos or try on makeup. On days like
these I like to draw close the blinds and at a turtle’s pace fulfill my
responsibilities. On days like these I want to look at fashion magazines. On days
like these I want hot coco with lots of whip cream on top. On days like these I
could curl my hair and think about romance novels that I’ve read in the past
but alas responsibilities, responsibilities.
So you see I could be as lazy as a… and not
mind it at all, however.
I do have a lazy streak in me.
No, it’s not often that I’m either lazy or
slothful.
It’s very rare that I become lazy simply
because I know myself all too, well therefore I have to go against my nature to
want to do nothing. Since I know myself I make sure that I don’t gravitate
towards doing nothing. Although I have to admit that I have an agile and
intelligent mind therefore she likes to work more than my body does.
I like to do absolutely nothing when I take
up the Sabbath.
I was gifted with the talent to think
therefore I’m grateful because otherwise I’d be three-hundred pounds and happy
as a clam or as a puppy with a new and kind owner riding around in the backseat
of an old fashion car with the windows rolled down and warm and fresh air on my
face with my tongue sticking out.
I’d love to do absolutely nothing but all
God’s creatures work for a living. I take my cues from nature and she sure is
one of the hardest workers I know otherwise nothing survives.
I could very happily sit around, gain weight,
eat to my heart’s content and read nothing of importance however I thank the
Gods each and every day for giving me an intelligent brain for a strict coach
who makes me do laps around a park with the dog.
A brain that has taught me not to gorge
myself to death and a brain that has taught me to stay on schedule even though
I could go sailing in the Caribbean and forget all about the work glaring back
at me, from my desk.
I’ve been gifted with a brain the refuses to
stay in pajamas all day long. A brain that makes the bed immediately in the
mornings after getting up and doesn’t return there until the right and proper
time of night. A brain that gets dressed and ready for anything in the day.
I’ve been gifted with a brain that can and
does force; itself; to cook healthy
meals, read substantial works by the masters and does read through the
qualified research of the experts to learn anything of value, importance and
consequence.
I was gifted with a brain that likes to get
information right, therefore it’s a brain that will go back and make as many
corrections as it takes even though corrections are a tedious task at the best
of times.
I was gifted with a brain that likes to be
clean and tidy up therefore I wash myself, brush my teeth, floss my gums and
keep myself clean each and every single day.
A brain that likes to wear perfume in her
hair, a brain that likes to put on deodorant, a brain that likes to wear lip
balm, a brain that likes to wear baby oil, a brain that likes to run a comb
through her hair, a brain that likes to look in the glass and know that
everything falls in its proper place.
A brain that likes organization and an
orderly lifestyle because it’s peaceful and for no other reason than that, I do
these things because my brain tells me that it’s the correct and proper thing
to do but more precisely because it feels so good to do so.
Unfortunately my brain also loves sugar
therefore it must be disciplined enough to only eat moderately otherwise I
could become a gluttonous raging lunatic on sugar (not literally). (Once I lose
the taste for sweetness and the bitterness becomes rough on my tongue then I
can’t bring myself to swallow it for months at a time. I do keep a healthy
relationship with sugar or I lose the taste for it and I won’t go back no
matter what the craving may become.)
There’s
much to be said about weather and work and lifestyle.
Since
we live in a part of the world in which cold takes over our landscape about
nine months of the year, I’ve mentally adjusted to the notion of moderation
otherwise it’s easy to lose oneself in the winters and eat until the elastic
pants have to be taken out of the “fat drawer.” (A special drawer for all of
the baggie clothes when nothing else fits.)
I find that as uncomfortable as my skin is
with cold winters that my mind finds it refreshing and no matter how much I’d
rather live near the ocean and surf all day long, somehow I finally belong in
this cold Northern Tundra.
My heart calls me to the tropics but my brain
tells me to stay put and thus, as the years go by I fall more and more in love
with this wild place even though I’ve been kicking and screaming all the way
down the aisle of culture. (Ha!) (No, there was no kicking and screaming on the
morning of our wedding. It was such a glorious and beautiful ten minute
ceremony at city hall, amongst some of our twenty closest friends, family
members and co-workers however I did slightly turn and sprained my ankle
running in high heels. Back to that silliness.)
No,
I don’t want to admit to anyone that my brain loves the Twin Cities however my
skin doesn’t.
This is where my brain would love to retire
however it makes for difficult weather and with already frostbitten fingers and
toes, well...
It’s unbearable to go through the numbness of
such defeat. I can do it. I do it however it’s a strength of character to get
me out of the house in cold-cold winter days.
As for the nights. Yeah, right, good luck
because I’ve not been much of someone who goes gallivanting around, beyond
eight at night for most of my life, only for a two year period doing research
on marijuana smoking hippies and prostitutes and pimps and well, I’d rather be
in bed reading a book then doing that type of research.
If I’m out late at night then there better be
great music otherwise it takes effort and it costs money to go out and I’d
rather just as soon buy cute leather gloves then give my money away to… Plus,
cities in the United States can’t really guarantee women and men their safety
so what’s the point of going out, anyway? There isn’t one. Everything I need
and want is at home. Like books, for example and whip cream. (Ha!)
I
love the Northern Tundra because there’s a passing of seasons and somehow that
measure of time helps me define my life into categories of events in which
leaves turn color and fall, snow blizzards come and go and springtime is such a
time for life, tenderness and sweetness.
My
brain and my heart are constantly at odds with one another because my heart
belongs to Costa Rica and it’s the only place it wishes to be however there’s a
lot to be said for sunburn and a culture in which women really are second class
citizens and a culture in which they hate Native Americans with a passion so
you see my choices are limited when it comes to making a life in a place in
which women and women of color are cared and looked after less than this one.
I want you to know even though I shouldn’t
say anything, that, one of my greatest resentment is coming to the United
States without my choice to know what I was really getting myself into. Like
the African slaves we didn’t know what this was going to be all about.
I mean, I could’ve been a young bride at
eighteen with about five children all by the age of twenty-five, without much
economical prospects and without any education however that type of ignorance
might have been great for me.
I could’ve been some Tico’s wife and not
known the difference between life and work. I would’ve probably been dead by
the age of thirty-five from a ruptured benign tumor and happily lived out some
mundane existence of ignorance, picking fruit and farming coffee on a
mountainside.
It’s wild, when I think about.
No, I’ve never been a prostitute or an exotic
dancer or a beggar therefore I don’t think I would’ve been one in Costa Rica
either. I’ve got way too much stubborn pride for any of that. I’d rather starve
and die then take on such…
My heart calls me to Costa Rica but it’s my
brain that calls me to this place I can’t seem to make complete peace with
because the culture rubs me the wrong way but alas I know that I belong here
even though I have to shield my heart much of the time and that’s not so bad.
I want you to know that I love the Northern
Tundra and that I want for it to give me a good and strong reason to stay here
forever even though the culture and I don’t always get along for the most part because
it’s a selfish, haunted and mean-spirited culture with its racism,
discrimination and arrogance about nothing much.
But please don’t ever forget that as an
adult, I’ve love to cash in our… and surf for the rest of my life without a
worry in the world. I could take our little family and make surfing babies and
call it a day’s work. Wouldn’t that be fun? That would’ve been a blast.
Love;
Gabriel
Word count: 2,062
Monday, November 4,
2013
“Failures are the pillars of success.”
“Even to fall from a fine horse is
worthwhile.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Success (Achievement, accomplishment, victory,
triumph)
Her success stands upon the foundation
of her many failures.
---
--- ---
(Excerpts)
On Writing; A Memoir of the Craft
By
Stephen King
Page 154
I
like to get ten pages a day, which amounts to 2,000 words. That’s 180,000 words
over a three-month span, a goodish length for a book--something in which the
reader can get happily lost, if the tale is done well and stays fresh. On some
days those ten pages come easily; I’m up and doing errands by eleven-thirty in
the morning, perky as a rat in liverwurst. More frequently, as I grow older, I
find myself eating lunch at my desk and finishing the day’s work around
one-thirty in the afternoon. Sometimes, when the words come hard, I’m still
fiddling around at teatime. Either way is fine with me, but only under dire
circumstances do I allow myself to shut down before I get my 2,000 words.
---------------------------------
No,
I’m not really sure as to why Americans dog success. To dog success is to dog
failure and well, one can’t have success without failure.
If one believes that they’re a success
without any failure at anything or going through adversity in one’s life (at
one time or another) then that can only mean that one is; extraordinary, but
then that can only imply that one’s inhumane, out of touch with the human race
or an object.
To be a human who’s never experienced failure can only mean that one isn’t quite human
because what human being can really justify that they’ve never had
anything rotten, horrible, terrible or difficult happen to them?
If they haven’t dealt with an adversity then
it can only mean that they must live inside a bubble of mommy and daddy’s money
and well, we all know what the means; spoilt, cruel and mean-hearted brats
without anything to show for other than to make commands and take all the
credit for what others accomplish.
I
suppose one of the many reasons as to why Americans dog success is because by
the very definition it can only come to mean a variety of definitions to such a
large American populous. In other words;
everyone has a different definition of success.
Even though by the very definition of success
it means achievement, accomplishment, victory and triumph, why is it, then,
that Americans dog such a concept as success?
Is it because they’re afraid of failure? Is
it because they hate to admit failure? Is it because they rage with jealousy
and envy at those who overcome their failures? Is it because then it means that
success isn’t something that’s simply handed over to people but rather they
have to work for it? Is it because then one has to admit that in order to
succeed one will have to undertake the difficult hero’s journey? A hero’s
journey to overcome personal demons, hatred, starvation, poverty, and mass
media confusion and lies, cynicism, language barriers and roadblocks placed
there by others? Spiteful and cheating competition by those who are in
positions in which they ought to know better but don’t act upon the basis of
simple, justified and standardized principles and codes of ethics?
Simply
put, I think it’s because by today’s American standards, it’s no longer a
success to achieve to create basic cultural and economic accomplishments such
as “The American Dream” to own a home, collect great and standard wages and
live-out a content Middle Income Earning lifestyle towards retirement.
That outdated cultural concept no longer
exists and it makes bitter cynics out of the Americans thus they make fun of
anything remotely successful without giving the credit to those failures that
created the success in the first place.
It’s a misguided anger that drives a wedge
between goal-oriented immigrants and bitter citizens already established but
stuck in their day jobs, neighborhoods and shallow social scenes that compete
against the tides of change to be more inclusive rather than exclusive of those
who do try to make their way through a culture that seems to loathe immigrants
with a passion even though Americans are all immigrants except for the Native
Americans, starved, raped and murdered in any of today’s reservations as I
write this.
By today’s recession and economic bloated
standards of the rich; average income Americans simply consider success the
ability to place food on their tables and roofs over their heads to the best of
their abilities, and that’s real success by any contemporary Western standard
when so many Americans lost their homes to the banks and food subsidies due to
a cruel and mean-spirited Republican congress.
---
--- ---
Interlude
I’m going to stop here and take out the fresh
baked bread out of the bread maker and walk the dog. Cheers. What a lovely
life. The sun finally came out for the first time just now at: 3:37 p.m.
---
--- ---
About success; I don’t really know what
to tell you about success because it seems as though Americans no longer
believe in it. To no longer believe in success and overcome failure can only
mean that fairies die (metaphorically speaking).
I mean, we all love those success stories
about the underdogs who go on, to complete the hero’s journey and overcome
unbearable obstacles against all odds. We all love a great story about success
and failure. It’s a great American pass time to believe in such glory and I do.
Why wouldn’t I?
Now, when it comes to success I don’t
necessarily fall for all of the glorified nonsense of bigger than real life
stories.
I believe in the real down to Earth stories
in which the hero overcomes his ego, his personal demons and his selfishness
and self-centeredness and becomes a hero to all.
The reason as to why the underdog represents
so much to so many is because it means that we all have a real chance at
becoming successful ourselves and not only those with highfalutin connections,
mommy and daddy’s money, the Ivy Leaguers or those who rose through the ranks
of nepotism and special privileges.
To
me success is when children learn to read and write against all odds, violence
in the home and neglect, starvation and poverty. Success means someone’s able
to pay to replace their flat tires and still put food on the table. Success
means winter coats for American citizens and civilians. Success means that
mothers are educated enough not to feed
their toddlers juice because it rots their toddlers teeth or to feed their
children a sugar diet because it makes their children crazy drunk, stupefied
and raging maniacs.
To me success means that others will do,
well, by others without jealousy or envy because it’s the right thing to do and
not because it makes them look good but because they believe and stand for what
is righteous and for the health and well being of all.
Success means that immigrants can still come
to this great nation of ours and carve out a little place of their own without
having to subject their children to poverty, gang violence and racism and
prejudice and discrimination. Success means that Americans will indeed create
positive change especially in hard times and in good times. I could go on but
why?
Success means health care for all Americans.
I
don’t mean to undermine the strength and durability of success because then it
would mean that I’ve overlooked the failures of our American families and the
many meaningful histories upon the basis of what this country was built upon.
I believe in success because then it means
that our American families have overcome against all obstacles and the nay
say-ers and discriminatory laws in the ability to move forward and go on to
become pillars of hope and strength for others who’ll follow their examples as
exemplary solid and bold definitions of faith for another tomorrow, another
future and further knowledge to become fruitful and multiply to strengthen
those who’ll come along, long after we’re gone.
Success means that one knows, realizes and
understands the difficulties, complexities and sorrows of the human race as
well as the happiness, the joy and the balance in what it means to be a
gracious and respectful human.
To have absolutely no respect for what our
American families go through on a daily basis is to overlook what America was
established for.
Now, without patriotic overwhelming neglect
for our contemporary American families I do have to admit that Americans have
been taught to loathe with the might of the devils because we’ve been lied to
for so long therefore when one comes along and tells the truth we want to beat
such individuals into a bloody pulp because “nobody’s pretendin’ nothin’.”
Yes, our American Peoples work themselves
into the ground for meager morsels of wages to purchase food for their families
however they do it because it’s the right and stable thing to do; to work hard
for their families and that has nothing to do with patriotic malarkey, that has
everything to do with the survival of their beautiful and gorgeous offspring.
Failure: (Breakdown, stoppage, malfunction,
crash, collapse)
I
can’t possibly believe, not for one moment, that the most successful of all
people haven’t had failure in their lives otherwise I feel lied to when people
pretend or lie as though everything’s been handed to them and if they have then
we have absolutely nothing to say to one another because it means that they’re
not really human, they’re more like caricatures, grotesque drawings of their
egos, their envy and self-loathing.
I
love to read stories about people’s failures because it makes them more human
and realistic. I love to read about how they’ve overcame such adversity and
obstacles in their lives. What steps they took to step out of their
devastation, their hunger and discrimination.
I love to read anything that comes with a
great deal of hope and trust for the wellbeing of the reader to learn that
they’re not alone in the world even if the writer’s voice and alter egos are
indeed crabby and curmudgeons.
No, I don’t hold any sense of illusion when
it comes to successful people and their developments. I’m not so shallow as to
believe that everything’s majestic all of the time.
I love stories in which the hero has overcome
and succeeded but that hasn’t stopped them from being human and continuing to
overcome even and especially in the middle of success.
Just because people are successful it doesn’t
mean that they stop having to overcome obstacles. If anything the hero’s
journey is not complete until the very end with death. We’re not done striving
for better until we’re dead and that’s what’s so incredible about the hero’s
journey. One is never done striving for excellence, for better and for more
benefits of the others.
Once a hero has more than enough for
themselves, then it’s their duty to make sure that they implement ways in which
others, too, can commit themselves to success and glory because the hero has
set up foundations and funds for others without ever collecting a penny for
their own personal gain otherwise it’s called a swindle.
In
conclusion; No, I don’t believe that I’m successful I know that I am and I have been for quite some time. (Ha!) No, I’m
not stuck at a dead end.
If anything I don’t want to come to find out
that all of my failures are for nothing because the Americans have become
cynical about success.
If the Americans no longer believe in success
then it means that they no longer believe in failure and, that, we can’t have none of that because then
I ought to have starved and failed in another nation under God other than
America.
No, I’m not as serious as I sound here upon
the page however if I’m going to take the time to write then let’s have it out.
I
want to believe that everything I went through in the decade of my twenties has
value, significance and consequence otherwise I could’ve just become a couch
potato and collected welfare from the government. I mean it. I had no idea
people could live off of welfare until recently because I didn’t seek it out as
a young person.
If my failures mean absolutely nothing then
we have absolutely nothing to say to one another and I have absolutely no
responsibility to anyone much less this nation but that would be a lie that I
can’t bear to tell myself because I’m too smart for such nonsense.
I want to believe that even though Americans
are sprinkled in misguided angst and cynicism that they can still give credit
where credit is due, to those who continue to apply themselves and contribute
to the overall wellbeing and health of this nation not because it’s expected of
us but because it’s a great honor and joy to do so.
Cheers;
Gabriel
Word count: 2,077 words. Wonderful!
Yes, as a matter of fact and indeed Mr. Rand
Paul did plagiarize in his speeches.
Yes, one is able to plagiarize, away from the page and that can only
mean that the speaker or writer doesn’t know, understand or take their
responsibilities as thinkers quite seriously and that takes them out of the
running for anything they apply for because plagiarism makes liars, cheaters
and sad sods out of anyone who tries it. Pity.
Friday, November 1,
2013
“The Jew who can’t be a cobbler dreams of
being a professor.”
“Eggs want to be smarter than hens.”
“Man strives and God laughs.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Hatred (Abhorrence, detestation, hate, loathing,
odium, revulsion, disgust, extreme dislike) Antonym: love.
Jealousy (Envy, covetousness, resentment,
protectiveness, suspicion, distrust)
Envy (Jealousy, greed, desire, resentment, site,
covet, begrudge, grudge)
Bitter (Sour, acid, acidic, tart, astringent,
vinegary, pungent, harsh, acrid) Antonym: sweet.
Messenger (Courier, envoy, herald)
---
--- ---
“Kill the Messenger”
(The title to a Twin Cities’ band) (Ha!)
Kill the Angels
Kill the band
Kill the band members
Kills the band members’ grandmothers and grandfathers
Kill the band members’ mothers and fathers
Kill the band members’ children
Kill the band members’ friends and neighbors
Kill, kill, kill!
(That’s all you can think about, isn’t it?)
Oh,
my! Please don’t make me laugh that hard. I’m rolling in laughter. Seriously,
this town makes me laugh. No, I’m not smirking. No, I’m neither the Joker nor a
devil worshiper.
No,
I don’t, personally, take the band’s title to mean anything of significance to
me, however, other people do and they’ve asked me to break it down for them as
to why they feel so mocked or terrible when it comes to this band’s title.
Here goes nothing.
No,
I have no idea what this band is, their sound and so forth nor have I gone out
of my way to learn much about them.
No,
I really don’t care about this band because obviously I don’t go out of my way
to purchase any music by them. Why would
I? They weren’t even in my radar until last night’s heated debate and
conversation. (I have no idea.)
Yes,
I can only imagine that any band with such a title for a name is a band that is
either bitter, jealous, envious, lost or cruel when it comes to their audience,
simply, because with a title such as theirs so much more is implied than just
mockery for their fan base and it’s done with sheer joy and stupidity hence
they have no idea as to what their
responsibilities are as adult members of the human race.
A title such as “Kill the Messenger” can be
expected from teenagers but not middle-aged, gray-haired, homely men without
talent, from what I’m told.
Okay,
I’ll try not to read, too, much into it however with a title such as that one,
immediately it made me think that the band members are bitter at life and can’t
get laid by intelligent and kind people so they have to take whatever scum with
venereal diseases there is out there on the road. (Sorry, fellows, nothing
personal, nevertheless with a title such as that, it makes one consider many
horrible aspects forcibly implied upon the human psyche, especially with a
short man complex.)
Now,
first and foremost, consider that musicians and bands like to shock for no
other reason other than they can and that doesn’t really make them real
musicians, it only makes them fodder for mockery.
Any empty and shallow band’s title that makes
the old Jewish and Presbyterian ladies and men cringe is only there to do just
that.
I would neither place much stock on the
band’s title nor the band’s music, no matter how much of a social crusader they
may come across as(s).
To
be adult members of any band with a shocking title is an inverted way to insult
their neighbors, communities and cities.
Remember
that Minnesota is the land of the passive-aggressive “Minnesota Nice” that self
loathes with a raging passion because they’ve
not been quite loved or forgiven and it shows.
So, with that said: to imply to “Kill
the Messenger” is a way to give the audience the middle finger or to tell them
“to go fuck themselves” without having the courage, the guts and the ability to
come out and say it to their faces.
It’s a way to show the world how badly they
really do feel about their lot in life and the fact that they’re nobody to
anyone other than to their parents, families and friends and small city
groupies. (You don’t want me to get into the psychology of it because three
little words can give anyone away for good.)
A
title such as: “Kill the Messenger” is a great way to kill one of the most
sacred and revered hopes of the American People.
You do know that eighty percent (80%) of
Americans believe in Angels (Messengers) whether they’re religious or not. I
mean, really, that’s a higher percentage than congress has for an approval
rating.
Or maybe the title implies kill the bike messenger but then where
would we be without our hard working blue collar bike messengers? (I don’t get
it. I don’t need to.)
I
really don’t have much to say about it except this: with a title like that it
invokes fear into the psyche of humans, never
to carry out a message of any type because then our citizens and civilians will
start to believe that retribution will be held against them.
A title as this one, implies such a severe
retribution upon any messenger that it'll cost people their lives to speak up
for their nations, states, counties, cities, communities and neighborhoods,
therefore to title a band with such a dumb, stupid and moronic title as “Kill
the Messenger” is a great way to tell any civilization to shut up and forget
about courage and bravery.
The level of implied violence is such a bore.
I’m yawing over here.
No,
I wouldn’t put much stock on such a band with such a violent title because you
already know what you’re getting yourself into.
What amazes me is that such a band of musicians
would title their band just that when every sixty seconds a woman is raped in
America and every seventy minutes a woman is killed for speaking up for
themselves.
In such a country, in which, violence is
paramount one would think that any band would want to bring harmony, hope and balance to the force. What a bunch of
weirdoes, to say the least.
One
last point about this dorky title: Why do Twin Cities’ musicians hate so much?
Twin Cities’ musicians hate so much, because
on their journey of lies, they told themselves, deep down inside, that if they
could just learn to play any instrument badly-enough to pass off as something
mediocre, then the devil would cut a record deal with them and make them a real
success through fame and fortune and that fame would be theirs however it
proved to be a lot harder to become something spectacular because well… I won’t
finish that sentence.
Yes,
I came here to destroy the imploded egos of men, however, I didn’t come here to
destroy the men, themselves, because to metaphorically break any man’s penis
off without ever touching it, is far easier than men know anything about women
and their real opinions of small city washed-out wonders. (Ouch.) I know, I
know.
I swung the blade, too, fast and struck. A
scratch. A scratch, I tell you.
You’ll get over it just as I did with all of
the Twin Cities’ jealousy, envy and hatred of women who don’t put out just
because they’re expected to.
I’ve learned to live with the violence of
mediocre Twin Cities’ quasi-artists, violent musicians and their dirty groupies
and drunkard braggers.
The problem that others have with me is that
they pretend like I don’t know but I do know when it comes to this town and its
inhabitants.
No, I don’t have dirt on everyone but I could
with one simple phone call to… Their enemies are my friends and so forth and so
on.
Oh, how you love to hate me because I won’t
hand it to you in a handheld basket. I know what it is that you want of me
however I refuse to amuse you with… I know that I’m hated. We’ve established
that and so let’s move on. I’ve grown a thick skin about it.
In conclusion: from what I gathered from the
heated argument is that these musicians volunteered at a benefit concert for
homeless youth yet the title of their band is done in poor-taste and what does
that say about them?
It says that they took a hypocritical oath,
especially with the attention of youth who consider many deep aspects of life
because they starve and they’re not as dumb as they look.
Words say a lot about people and since I
studied the psychology of writing I’m quite sure that what I write is a way to
create complex challenge to get the reader to think and if they’re insulted
then it’s because they’re afraid to face the truth about themselves.
In a culture in which we’ve been lied to for
far, too, long why is it that people get so pissed off when one writes the
truth? (Don’t answer that it’s rhetorical.)
-----------------------------
A Short Story:
One decade ago over dinner: One of my many
influential and wealthy friends said to me: “‘we both know that eventually New
York City and Los Angeles will sink into the ocean. Where do you think the next
New York City ought to be established?’”
I looked up from my caviar and red wine and
saw that he was absolutely serious.
“I’m not qualified to answer that.” I said.
“‘Yes, you are. You’re the most qualified
person I know for such a task. Come now. Tell me. Where do you think the next
New York City ought to be?’” He brought his proper glass for expensive red wine
to his lips and I wondered… I licked my dry lips as he drank like the powerful
man that he is and thought.
“I’ve got some ideas but will you give me
time to consider it?” He eye-balled me and I, he. He was dead serious and so
was I.
“‘Take as much time as you like but don’t
wait until New York City is under water.’” I spun the base of the wine glass
around with my pointer finger and thumb in hopes to arrive at a smart answer
that night but none came to me, not then, anyway.
Now, I think that the Twin Cities is the
perfect location for such an endeavor but the culture rubs me the wrong way
because it’s a hateful culture of whiners who ask “why do you get to?” Because
I’ve worked my ass off for it.
I think Chicago is much too violent and in St. Louis, they’re killing
each other off as I write. So that can only mean that Nebraska might be the
ideal place however there’s drought there. I don’t know.
I took another bite out of my fancy cracker
and the baby fish eggs.
I took a swig from the red wine glass as my
friend stared a hole into my skull. I became shy and didn’t want to talk about
it anymore. He sensed that I was beginning to clam up and once I closed up it
was going to be nearly impossible for him to get another word out of me about
the matter.
“‘This is all I’m going to tell to you: when
you get a good and strong idea about it then tell me and we’ll make it happen.
No questions asked because I trust your good opinion. If you don’t know then no
one else knows much less those with capital. Culture doesn’t live in a vacuum
or inside vaults.’” He changed the subject.
He went on to ask me about my work and
troubles on the ground as a documentary filmmaker (at that time) and I told him
in detail.
He listened and he knew better than to ask if
I needed anything from him because even if I did, I wouldn’t ask. I’d rather
die than ask for help, although I’m getting better at asking for information
and humbling myself.
I’m not one to ask for much help, much less,
when I starved and he knows about that all, too, well, even though we don’t
talk about it. He reads my blog and that’s all that he needs to know.
If I were ever to talk about it then I can
but he knows that I’d become a puddle on the floor so I stay away from speaking
such history with him, directly.
He hates it that I refuse to ask for any type
of help from anybody but he has to live with my pride, because while he lives
in a mansion, eats out at expensive restaurants every single day of his life,
gets driven by a chauffeur in private limos, and has his three-piece suits
tailored in London, he knows perfectly well, that, I was having the dickens of
a time making it at that time in my life
and all I had to do was to ask, but I never did and now that I’ve made it, I
know for sure, that, I made it on my own with Eric by my side and that’s a
point of great joy for me.
I’ve worked for everything that I’ve got
without a handout from anyone much less those with mass fortunes and
connections and that’s why I’m respected, loved, revered and greatly admired by
the Social Elite and others of this nation and other nations for that matter.
They know that I’m making my way in the world
and that I, too, know where the river bank is and have refused to drink from
its waters. I’m on my way to make a mass fortune without a piggy back ride and
that’s considered admirable even by the haters.
Yes, success is important especially when an
artist carves it out with their own two hands like a fine bronze sculpture.
So, you see, I have another nine years to
find a kind, intelligent and city savvy landscape to plunk down the next, New
York City and that’s a lot of fun pressure for one person. I’ll have fun with
it. I’ve got to start studying landscapes and cultures for such an endeavor.
I know, I know.
Life’s stranger than fiction.
I’m telling you.
I don’t know what to make out of life,
sometimes.
Peace and with love;
Gabriel
Take it away Mr. Bill Maher. Good luck and
break a leg. We’re cheering for you. We’re ever so grateful for your work.
(Nope, not even in the slightest, am I going
out of my way to meet Mr. Maher or other celebrities for that matter. We live
worlds apart.)
Word count: 2,345