The Masters of War had Ventriloquists

It wasn’t even winter yet, as autumn held her ground. Weaker men were torn asunder as angels prevailed where blind men feared to speak. You could not fess up nor deny, those wild werewolf times 

Where wolvens roamed the crest like crazy heathcliff

Heather of Moorland Farms befriended the mysterious Maxine. Who wore clogs. A cord skirt. Long straight hair like Marcia Brady but a sway like West Side Story.
The colors of the continent were committed to a shell of their former shelves – the Russian tea cozy. Sore spot of etiquette.

I wasn’t proud when I said my family was like Prince of tides just alarmed 

 

“Those who hammer their guns into plowshares will plow for those who do not.” Thomas Jefferson, President of the United States, Founder of the University of Virginia, the one slave owner of the group who was unanimously asked to write the preamble for the Constitution, known as the Declaration of Independence. 
Now You may ask how could a slave owner write such beautiful words as we the people 

In order to form a more perfect union 

ESTABLISH JUSTICE

INSURE DOMESTIC TRANQUILITY

PROVIDE FOR THE COMMON DEFENCE 

PROMOTE GENERAL WELFARE 

AND 

SECURE 

THE BLESSINGS OF

LIBERTY TO OURSELVES

and our Posterity…


Our children 

The seventh generation 

The future

Certainly no one wants to witness nuclear fallout. Not from a bunker not from an underground silo, middleman earth safe house for world leaders and cryogenic windbags. I’d rather we be taken out by that thing on the other side of the sun than the flash we’ve all dreaded since watching the day after  on a school night in 1983.

Today in history 

I wake up thinking I miss those days as the now-wild parrots make their flight across the Pasadena sky.

Then, with faint tv news in background, I think of the news those good old days held and how just like me, my parents went through the day with a great deal of anxiety.

Now, to survive and thrive, those are the hard things. The easy thing is to not make others suffer for your feelings. To try to force some change in perspective to adjust the out of wack world, if that change is in your own head. You can think one thing that will not make this headache from the head injury of last night (more dangerous after near fatal beating in February) go away but could help with that breakthrough of getting through the day and somehow not just floundering.
1972. The news. Not so good. Depending on the fate, the date and the late breaking story.

Wildfires 

I looked up to see the fires burning coming down the hill facing my father seated at his bay window looking out over the life he built, a life he gave his children, the future of our children, an American Dream bought of Italian immigrants to carrying the great Italian grapes to the fertile fecund Northern California. 
Ironic iconic RUSSIAN River valley, expanding into Napa with his French brother in arms Jean-luc purveyor of the finest Boudreaux and Michelangelo the Pinot Grigio man – all  had fought alongside hemingways kind against Franco’s fascist rollover planned  as comeuppance for the empires and their colonies. 

 

 Once they’d killed ghandi in prison, beat Biko to death, sequestered the master and the margarita, they turned to the inominable agenda of squelched free speech and disarming the right of patriots like Nathan hale or Paul revere so that no one can defend that right to free speech when the military declares martial law, fema initiates operation mass grave keeps only soldiers and those with bank accounts as need be only should the entity called government and its partner in crime corporate greed, Rothschild illuminati infiltrating your DNA to sell off to the bad aliens aka fallen angels they now say wiped out the Neanderthals who told,us in those rock walls underground k. France 

Look up the French resistance 


Don’t forget to read the lover and there’s Racine 

Watch Truffaut Jules and Jim and Godard weekend 

Read now Thomas Jefferson and Lafayette were friends 


Read a tale of two cities by dickens 

Take up knitting 

Listen to kind of blue, in a silent way and miles-Coltrane collaboration s 
See you next week 

Ps hunter s Thompson essays due Tuesday morning 8 am PST

FEAR AND LOATHING UPDATED 

YOUR PROFESSOR 

GURU OF UNSCRIPTED ZEITGEIST 

A place amidst the noise

I am reminded of how I used to write when the click pen I have chosen has trouble flowing and after two short sentences I go looking for the backlit keyboard like Pavlov’s dog salivating over the bell signaling auto-correct of the brain. 
You see, I straddle the timeframe between pen and paper (curiously, “pop em” from google algorithms, but not my brain) and backspace keyboard. I am both the white out generation (eschewing the subpar Tandy corporation’s first “word  processer” for an electric brother typewriter – the irony still holds). 


And so I think (or the voice refuting translation bouncing from coast to coast in the linguistic vortex of my cranium and cortex) I just want to write. 




***


[A little backstory]

I began writing at an early age, possibly 11 or 12, writing in a serious way. 

To me, that meant cathartic if obtuse expression of deep pain and confusing, conflicted emotions for what was happening to me and who I was told I was.
Writing is a way through that-being adopted, having dissociative disorder, reliving trauma and actual repeated abise, continuing thru a treasure trove of toxic workplace Who’sWho of Assholes into a wasteland of small-minded, back handed hacks across the industry – of highly paid hacks.

Dark tower 

Cho Ch ok Kay oh

Sick of the nomadic privilege

The hours turning into days 

of wasted time 

Who wants their legacy to be invisibility? What then was the point of suffering then?

paraparesis, 

 point moot, for 

sarahkthe oswrving,  

branded diatribe 

Forget uR duvided
Whohoo 

The artificial 

it’s now official

One would think –

… with so much going for me, I’d be more, well, influential. Being “effective” takes too much real-time. 

But, according to the experts, my “personality type” is known to radiate authenticity, concern and altruism, unafraid to stand up and speak when they feel something needs to be said.


  • How do we know when something “needs” to be said versus when it’s best to STFU ?
  • I was once vehemently presented with a never-ending closing argument from a Berkeley business grad that “there is no such thing as altruism.” So chew on that for a micro-minute.
  •  Unafraid to stand up-well this was demonstrated in fifth grade when I inexplicably, heroically and vociferously stood up for Sharon who I felt was being picked on, mercilessly and without rules of common decency – if you are 30+ years older, maybe it ain’t a fair fight-by our bullshit teacher Mrs. Duff. I had to write an apology letter but I made sure it wasn’t about principle only breach of societal  mores.  Meaning don’t question your bullshit teacher at a red neck school, unless of course she goes too far and then you can’t take it anymore.
  • Other occasions during which I was brave: saving Deena from irreparable harm when she went flying off Durante and bounced off her head; getting team through TROUGH of death we’re all gonna die channel during Wailua race; standing up for tolerance first then the hammer as the Solomon of my senior class.
  • Authenticity is one of those words that has come to mean less than it was intended to when over-adopted as a way to describe anyone who wasn’t a fake asshole, like the multitude of jerk offs I have had the pain of working with in reality (about as inauthentic as you can get) television. The Patricks, the Daves, the snarky little Brady bitches and the schlock editors who weren’t good enough to be the actor they secretly believe themselves to be. And somewhere in this schlockism, Hawaiian shirt-wearing career climbing edifice is a scumbag named D*+# O*~v3* who slandered me for his own perceived gain. Problem is he will always be fake, and not quite as talented as he needs to be. The good looks and low IQ failsafe humor can’t carry you forever, Mr. inauthentic. 
  • Concern? I used to but now it seems the concern is concerning me. Being almost killed by two men’s fists in a McDonald’s parking lot in the armpit of the world City Terrace, East Los Angeles, will do that to a person. #brainttrauma and all…

ENFJs easily see people’s motivations and seemingly disconnected events, and are able to bring these ideas together and communicate them as a common goal with an eloquence that is nothing short of mesmerizing.




Nothing Short of Mesmerizing 

my new tagline 

Whatcha think?


We’re Just a Minor Threat 

🌿My mentor would recognize where I need to focus my tremendous talent!🌴
My Mentor: Wanted

M. C. Escher