Well, that accomplished, I will have to get a file of pictures uploaded to Freeservers. Cool.

Have a 6 hour wedding to do. Sucks. Hate weddings, esp. Catholic, which go on forever. Visited with my awesome nephew, John, and his beauty, Rebecca, last night. Unfortunately his mothers cancer brings him east but it is always so awesome to be able to spend any time with him. I'm afraid I'm too rough on him though. He is very much into his Christianity, which I should understand, having been sucked into that maelstrom once before. Under similar circumstances, shaking the hard drugs. Resort to God. It worked. Or the psychological process triggered by the belief system worked. Not the Christianity. He is quite gentle with his speaking of it, not actually trying to proselytize. But the guilt and self recrimination the boy tends to is exacerbated with the doctrines and I want him to see where the legalism will kill spiritual growth, not nurture it.......
oh well, more on those thoughts later. For my huge audience of none!! Thank goodness. I would love to be read, but, I sound so acerbic, even to myself, that I do not welcome the opportunity to be further misunderstood, even if only by strangers. Cause I'm really nice. Really..
well, off to get the tux on and pick up the stretch.

I'm so psyched. I actually managed to publish a pic. Awesome.....i wonder what i did.......

another frigging attempt to insert pic

This whole Billy Graham thing irks me. Religion offends me. Period. Offends me and offends against what is true. It is the the most malicious of control mechanisms and it's willing and conscious vendors, be they priest or pastor, are mendacious hackers of the heart and spirit, insidiously 'programming' you with fear, guilt and and blandishments of eternal rewards in distant heavens. The Muslims induce their sheep with their perverted vision of 20 virgins beckoning, but Christianity offers up their own PR. Their heaven isn't quite so autocratic as the Islamic view but then, you have Purgatory. If you are Catholic. Better to be Baptist. Simply be saved and then proceed to be the consummate human ass hole with no consequences. Covered by the blood, by cracky!! Much better the the Catholics onerous confessional route to forgiveness, but then, if you are Catholic you can drink the blood if you want. Hell, with Catholics you can ritualistically eat flesh and drink blood. Definite drama queens are Catholics. Or, if you are looking for an excuse to screw multiple women, I'd look to the Mormon version. Orgies without suicide. Definitely one up on Islam. If you are hounded by the demons of hell you can go for some Pentecostal exorcism. Of course, if you have very, very serious demons, the Catholics do do a better show.
My point is this. Isn't it a tad ridiculous. Well, actually, it is horrifying to think that men and nations set the course of their lives on such beliefs as the few just cited. What the hell does anyone think September 11th was about?!!? Oh, yes, about oil and politics but the goad, to get millions of ignorant people to become cannon fodder, is frigging religion.

This nonsense, though laughable ( prayer has merit only in that it is intentional, focused thinking, which, is powerful. If prayer works, it works because of that principle, not supernatural intervention. Just a small part of my theory.), surely helps meld minds. Think of all the scenes you have witnessed of large crowds worshipping. How easy to command those people. How malleable they are I have always found it exceedingly creepy to hear mass said or any mantra or chorus spoken by groups in unison. It so sounds like zombies chanting.
It is the sound of free will breaking.

Empty? Vulnerable? Yes, perhaps that is it. I'm close to realizing how vulnerable and empty my life is? I mean, I can keep pretending that what I lead is a life. Thing is, if I look too closely, I panic. Which reality to choose and have I chosen the right one. I trust so very very little to be what it claims to be. And I so thoroughly mistrust me. Simply as a precaution. To guard against those who can not see me, yet would control me if they could. So I must watch myself to ensure that I never step again into anyones' 'drama' or believe their story. I will play my bit part on earth off-stage, off-camera. I will play to an audience of none.

I feel dismay that at 50, this is all I have managed to make of it. Not money, fame or title. Though I'd gleefully accept all three.

No, it's this. I was born with great gifts. I have, I believe, probably destroyed most of them. Beyond recall all together, I imagine. That . That is a knife in the gut. All the more painful in that I am the administering hand.
I can't afford to feel this sadness. I can't afford to feel much of anything. Or think much. Illusion. Illusion. Illusion. Must maintain illusion. I have a life. That is the illusion. Just keep repeating: " I have a life, I have a life, I have a life....................
Yeah, right.

Screw the archives!! I have NO idea where they went. I've wasted a few hours trying to discover the problem. Wasting time is an absolute art form with me.
Now, the problem with the Enquirer article just referred to (prior entry), well, it is just another of the many ways that the local news media have mishandled this so called civil unrest issue. I have no great love of the police but the broad paint stroke coloring them all as profiling racist devils is a disservice and incendiary as well as . The Enquirer just doesn't seem to know whose ass to kiss in this town but the histrionics of the malcontents parading as civil rights activists, well, they seem to get all the local media vote. Then article like the one referred to are uneven at best. I would have to find the data, but of the 15 police shootings cited for Cinci cops, all but 2 or 3 are questionable and the deceased in each and every case was either fleeing or resisting arrest and all had records. This article hardly demonstrates this key fact, yet has the paper has the audacity to label as facts the purported details of the cases.

I don't know. If you are a criminal, big or small, you've chosen the territory, which includes cops who rather like it when you abide by the rules. Failing that, you might die. In each case, it seems the choice would a simple, A or B. Stay or flee. Do the crime, pay, dude, pay!!! What is so frigging hard to get?

OK. Here I go. I'm having a problem with an article in the Cincinnati Enquirer. Gee, ya think? I mean, any honest, native Cincinnatian will readily pull out their list of grievances against that comatose rag. ( actually, a good Cincinnatian is armed with a file replete with articles and evidence of the lunacies enacted by city government in our much maligned names.). The Enquirer has this stinginess about it . If they could get away with just running the ads without bothering to report any stories, I'm sure they would do just that. I am always amazed at other newspapers that provide their readership a bounty of printed treasure to peruse. Hell, you take the advertisements and classifieds out of the Sunday paper, it is evident how meager an offering this publication cares to bestow upon its reluctant readership.They also imitate the local newscasts by employing the Pert & Perky approach to their news delivery, tapping a cast of unsuspecting locals to supply their homilies.. For the home town touch. For instance, should your good name be the unfortunate recipient of a randomly tossed dart, you will receive, I'm guessing, a perky phone call from a pert reporter dying to extract from your modest attempt at a LIFE , some profound revelation or, a heroic exploit, or at least a sense that, hey, we are just really Mayberry here, yes sir Mr. Andy! But then you'll run into this piece on the newest murders. Actually, The Enquirer ought to give these pieces on the latest fatal shooting their own permanent page in the paper, listed as LOCAL MURDER in the Contents. I mean, murder pieces are as regular as weather reports and this way, no one has to go digging all through the Metro section for the blurb, especially helpful for our beleaguered brethren in Over-the-Rhine. Helps them keep track of whose funeral is coming up, and whose phone number they might as well erase from their cell. ....just trying to help

OK. Which, of all the myriad themes I hope to expand upon, shall I pursue now? Cincinnatis inept leadership? Bush's inept leadership? The plight of ADD'ers in an efficient world? The fun of being dissociative? :::Sigh::::
Well, I'm finding this blog, Going Bridal, to be worth reading. Actually, it is the groom to be, Dennis, his entry regarding body image. Check out the June 13. 02 entry.
Sara, the chick, notes that they have made Blogger celebrity status ( my words ) , having been presented as the "Blog We've been Watching", or some such notation. I think it ought to be watched. In spite of my much loved anti marraige rantings.......somehow sara and dennis have charmed me into coming back.
So, when i come back off the road, I'll explore more....

I will not consider how much time I am wasting switching over to Pro, then trying to alter this blog, the colors of which I'm not quite sure about. I have been trying to add a picture. I need to just sit my ass down and learn some HTML, at least enough to accomplish what i need to on here. In the mean time, it has provided me with quite the excuse to...not write, not workout, not do any summertime activities. Yeah, right. Like I'm a big sum sum summertime person! The only time i like sweating like a pig is lifting weights, which at this point is becoming a fond memory. Not good if I wish to advance into my freaking fifth decade with charm intact. Enough. I had so many things i wanted to make note of, thus, random, so....

test post by blogger support

am i on or not?

view web page | enter safe mode Microsoft VBScript runtime error '800a01a8'

Object required: 'doc.lastChild'

/functions/parsePublishResponse.inc, line 3

Well, I don't know. I plowed through this article as long as I was able to navigate the twists and turns, but, I finally gave up.
Power.
Control. Control. Power. See, to me, it makes no sense. Let us say that a relatively small group of men run the planet, as the Illuminati story goes.. Now, they have wealth and treasure and opulence beyond measure and there is nothing that they cannot command, create or mandate to satisfy their monstrous appetites. So, some of these folks....Kenneth Lay, Cheney, the Bush Dynasty, et al, engage in a series of macabre machinations that suggest to me September 11th was merely part of a fabric long in the weaving, part of their frigging oil schemes gone way awry. I mean, my god, what does anyone believe? I mean, the Bush administration in negotiations with the Taliban for pipeline rights, essentially, as late as August, 2001. Talks went sour. September 11th occurs. Enron falls. It's the frigging Dance of Malignant Gods. Pounding down on all our heads. For fucking what ?!?!? They already have everything!! None of this logical to me.

See. This, and this is what is important to me. Not frigging oil. Jesus bloody hell!!! They are discovering new planets left and right. Can you imagine how an advanced civilization might embrace this news. Instead of headlines limning the trajectory of our destruction, the headlines would proclaim billions invested in exploratory space missions. I just simply cannot understand why, why, why, humanity applies passion and genius only in designing its own demise. In another reality, we are designing gateways to the universe. I want a passport to that reality

Well, I'm doing it again. Getting side tracked trying to work with templates for two other blogs to branch from here. I think. It may never happen. And the last two days have felt rich, and I'm not quite sure what I mean by that. Absolutely nothing happened. In fact, my fiftieth birthday passed with nary a word from anyone. Having been married to Tom 17 years, I accustomed myself to benign neglect. There is a twinge of sadness that I have not lead, that type of life that would have by now, rendered many friendships. I have not been that type of person. I never invested time in friends, in fact, I only developed a real friendship, for the first time, at 26 Linda. Bettman at the time. Phenomenal woman with a grace to her spirit that was a slow and easy radiance that gave you sweet comfort to absorb. Her house was lived in. Where other homes showcase furniture and bathrooms, her home showcased the panorama of life she presided over. Babies crawling, sullen toddlers, a husband who ought to have been discovered and 'sitcom-ed' long ago, all in a beautifully abused old Spokane rambling home on a dead end street wild with tall old strutting trees. It was a magical street. We, Tom & I, lived a block down, deliriously content with our pregnant selves, in a basement apartment, in a lovely home meticulously manicured by a warm German couple.

later
Much later actually. Let's see. Who did I bring in last night? Some Seattle Mariners baseball players, I confess not knowing one from the other or if they are good or what. I hope the Reds win every frigging game . Nothing against the Mariners, but Reds baseball fans are so fickle, so critical. The manner in which they wax and wane in their allegiance to Ken Griffey Just a bunch of typical contentious Cincinnatians. I know nothing about baseball. I've become more of a Red's advocate than a fan. A fan knows team history and is fully engaged in the sport. I'm simply engaged in slapping at Cinci's perverse nature any time I can. And they are, indeed, quite cavalier in their team allegiances.
However, apparently tonights game has some significance because it puts Mr. Griffey on his home field against the team he left to return to the Reds, or something. Oh, how fun. I checked the Mariner web site to see if I could recognize who I picked up last night and this dude was the 'lead' passenger. I shall see if I can find more. Only because it's rather fun. They are, bottom line, passengers for me. I focus on safe and timely transport, attentive to needs expressed, otherwise, very much invisible. Just my version of how to do limo work. I've not had all that many famous passengers, but countless corporate 'titans'...the dollar figures, the immense amount of monies negotiated during these myriad meetings I transport these folk to, boggles my silly, peasant mind. Hey, my bank roll is in my suit pocket. Just happens to be how this life has rolled out so far. Not complaining.. Surely am not!
Oh well, I'm not looking for more Mariner pics. This poor old computer runs too slow. Time to get ready. Just two trips today. One airport, one entertainment. On a Tuesday, the entertainmernt trip is unusual, but, it makes me nervous to only have two trips. Focus and silence, conscientious execution. That is what I will maintain. Actually, at this juncture, little else I can do. Sure do wish I had a laptop......

Random Thoughts

Aaron, my fine and amazing 23 year old, is taking the Forum this weekend. I just glanced again at their web site and noted that only 9% of typical participants fall into his age group. And, yeah, that gave me pause.. He is only twenty-three and is confronting and handling some issues that took me decades to reach a state of mind and the strength of will to confront. I am familiar with the hunger that gnaws at him inside. The need to be affirmed, the absolute hunger for recognition and love. Around that is fear. Around all that are the offspring: manipulation, deceit, control, blah blah blah....... Blah.
But, that is the way it is with most of us I imagine. Seems to be the governing force. Fear, that is. That's my pet theory. All else issues from that it seems. I mean, the hunger for love cannot be sated, if, fear for its absence or distrust of its' ( a shade of fear) sincerity prevails. Those who fear for loves' absence have no way to recognize its presence. The presence of fear is like a headlight to a doe crossing the highway. It blinds and can, at times, be fatal. Aaron has compensated for this, has attempted to displace and master his fearful world by manipulation, that has the potential, left unchecked , to morph into the standard issue ugly control freak. But, he would be powerful. For one, his gift is communication. It seems , more often, to be true, that your greatest gift is also your greatest liability. He also has a great personal 'presence'. At this point mostly untarnished and very unpolished but he has a strong magnetism. But he has also what I want most for both of my sons, he has integrity. Of heart and spirit. His battle on those grounds will be harder than most, but I believe and know the 'good force' will prevail........His participation, his eager participation is testimony enough. I am psyched to see how it evolves, his week-end at the Forum and wonder what grievances towards me will emerge. I feel there have to be some and I told him to expect that. I mean, I truly made some damnable mistakes in the raising of these guys.....so, I'll take the shot..or whatever.......more later

well, a fine looking Saturday and if I must endure a six hour 3 car wedding in the heart of all the old money in Cinci, it best be under these bright blue skies and crisp reviving breezes
later.......

Well, I'm doing it again. Trying to figure out the template, trying to change fonts and colors, anything but actually write. Obviously, I need to develop some focus. Which in my entire lifetime, it is apparent, focus wasn't an area of mastery. Speaking of lifetimes, well, I guess I can discuss it here because absolutely no one reads this. Except, perhaps, the illusive Alan. Or Allen. Or something. Fuck it.I can't complain about the lack of fascinating , intelligent people in my life if I am a card carrying, certified, absolute loner.
And I'm turning fifty on the sixteenth. God, that sucks, is devastating, has haunted me since I was thirty. I absolutely despise age and absolutely despise a culture who, perhaps, disdains aging women more than I do. It is purely an indication to me that god hates women. He designed us to be beasts of burden, flowering briefly, long enough to attract the requisite mate, then we transmogrify into unsymmetrical deposits of fat and flesh and wrinkles. Men, of course, have been given an extended grace period. For some reason their wrinkles, paunches, and grey temples are admired. Of course, I realize, had I lived with any degree of grace, I would age with grace. But, you know, I have not done one frigging thing right on this planet since I arrived. I'm getting way fucking used to it. Boy, I can feel the anger roiling very close to the surface. I can tell, I will go off in a heart beat today, if sufficiently provoked. I just want to spit . Spit . Spit. Spit.
I think I have an idea how I want this to go. I mentioned before that I wanted blogs per mood. Or attitude. Oh hell. We'll settle for subject matter. But here is a list of blog 'to do' items. Hey! I'm a perfect ADD person. ADD folks write lists ad infinitum, just to make life gain of semblance of order. We write the lists, then either forget them or lose them or....well, we never get them done.
I'm a total idiot. I keep writing them, not doing them, believing with all my frigging empty little heart, that ore of these days, I will get it..
The List
1. The exterior world. That world out there. The one I navigate as a limousine driver. The one that fascinates me, repels me, engages me, but with which I have only the most tenuous connections. On the periphery. I have not invested into the pageant. Have tried. Not a player. Least, not a good one. So I ride it out, and, as it turns out, I literally do just ride. In circles. Large circles, small circles, wide, narrow, oval and rectangular circles. Really., But circles none the less, for two years, everyday. I've chosen it. Most of me loves it. But one will love the narcotic that gets them by and driving is like a narcotic for me. It has that repetitiveness I seem to find soothing. A rhythm of patterns that turn into dance and can hypnotize. Hypnotic. Yes. I am drawn to trance. I think it may be an ADD thing.

2. Ailments? Mental ailments that is. And I take offense at the appellation, ill, when describing mind states not manageable by most, thus viewed as not right somehow. Like this dissociative thing. I feel, especially if I could master/integrate all the personalities, that it is a powerful assist and , my speculation is, that its an advanced aspect of cognition. So a sub-blog on my...what are they? They simply comprise the various 'engines' that govern my way of being, how I fit in my skin in this lifetime. Dissociative, ADD, counter-phobic 6 on the enneagram assessment, Gemini to the max. These are the mental and emotional currents I weave 'me' through. I think of the master navigators of DUNE....damn, I can't remember the names of these 'creatures' who ate the spice and transported everyone........well never mind. That's a too distant thread to this. But Dune would be a good link. And will be soon. Procrastination is my strong point.
3. For my sons. The love I have for them is the best thing about me. I don't question it. I fear it but it is the only emotion, only vulnerability that I have had the courage to allow. So, I do want to talk to them after I've walked off stage. I do plan a comeback. Bet on it. Till then, however, I want to speak my heart to them for their comfort. I am honored, beyond any measure, by their love.

Just an early morning blip. It will probably become rapidly clear, I do not own much in the way of mental clarity in the A.M. This though, have thought it often, but, what is with the fact that you can trace most human tragedy to either religion or sex or both? When you come down to it, neither love nor the gods are worth the blood or tears shed in their names. Not one frigging iota!!!!

The flavor today is dissociative. The politics , or the attempt to comprehend what the hell is going on, on planet Earth,well, it can make you dizzy. Nauseous. Yup. So, the flavor is dissociative .
I have not diligently applied myself to studying formal or academic treatments of the subject. It makes me feel constrained to have it defined for me. The grasp I do have of it, is as it applies to me. So let me wade into that. I also have not made a concerted effort to record my thoughts on it either. But, I have thought a great deal about it as I have tried to discern how it now operates, how it has in the past, and the ramifications.
I had always suspected of myself that my true persona was quite a bit less flamboyant or strident than the many personas that have gotten me through the years. Ooten, my last ( and probably most gifted ) therapist, and I had spied out three ( personalities ) and she said there were, in her estimation, six. She had also said something about them being 'chambered' but I do not exactly remember what that meant. I think it had something to do with the frequency of any one of their appearances, as me, in real time. (Why did I say real time? Oh well ). Those who I frequently 'am', being in the more accessible chambers. So, I did not participate fully in this aspect of therapy because it involved 'calling them out', as it were. Engaging in dialogue. The problem with that , I would always suspect that whatever 'conversations' I might have would be totally of my own manufacture. Much like I held suspect the voice that responded when I used to ask god specific questions. Suffice to say I never remember being put through any onerous tasks, so obviously I only heard him when he was in a good mood. ( we do not chat anymore).
Alright. I have never been quite able to conjure summarily 'someone' to front and center. Rather, they seem to emerge when the environment or interactions with others serve approximately like triggers. Pushing my buttons can prove to be a literal experience. Push the right combinations and I become somebody else. For instance, the wanton whore will not emerge on demand, and I have wished her to, believe me. Something to break the tedium of a slightly monochrome existence. But, I do know that music and some intoxication, and definitely dancing, are what draws her, and frankly, she is the best dancer. See, I have a knowledge that I can dance. But, if I attempt to dance as me, I have no where near the grace or fluency or pure sexual edge she owns. And I feel awkward. However, when she comes onboard, its as if I were a trained dancer. Agility, balance, grace, all are mine when she reigns and it is amazing. Especially considering that at all other times I a lean more towards klutz.
OK. Problem here. I'm nodding out. I am between trips and I was up at 02:30. So. A nap would be wise so the same drowsiness does not occur while driving. That I do dread. I surreptitiously, actually prick and pinch myself to stay alert. It's almost agonizing.
So, I shall be back and bring some dissociative links with me.

We want the truth. I want the truth. I think. Perhaps it is much like Jack Nicholson's virulent "You can't handle the truth". And, at this stage, truth is for the picking, a multitude of versions available, just choose your flavor. If you are highly distrustful of government you most likely will have every misgiving you harbor substantiated. I wonder, if we as citizens, will, like the government, fail to 'connect the dots'. Fail to apprehend our overweening desire for security, continuity, and 24 hour entertainment has cost us all that we purport to cherish. In front of our eyes. Talk about eyes wide shut.
I have long held that we, too thoroughly, believe our own movies. Where Americans always prevail, always have a hero on hand, always have a solution near by, always cross the finish line. If our spy movies had been premised on the now apparent ineptitude of our intelligence agencies, they'd have been a blip at the box office. They'd be designated direct to rental. Americans will not pay to see failure. After 9eleven, I had this inchoate sense of expectation. Like, where's Bruce? John Wayne? Harrison Ford? Woody Allen?!?! Someone??? Surely there is a plot twist here and any day now we will awaken to headlines proclaiming the success of an ultra secret military operation that ousts all key terrorists leaders and scatters to the winds all remnant fanatical lemmings. That our apparent bungling was simply a ruse to deflect the enemy from seeing how thoroughly we have infiltrated his operations. That Bush is the white Knight our myths require, and he will sever all ties with the powers that put his puppet self in office and denounce the Carlyle group, his Saudi buds, et al. That is what we want. Unfortunately though, all flies in the face of that scenario being even remotely possible, yet, we stupidly, irrationally, on some level, expect it.
Instead, what we have is this . For over 10 years the clues and evidence have been available, circulating, obvious? Ten frigging years?!? And this is what I just don't get. Is it not the government's prime responsibility to protect us? What the fuck was the intelligence community doing that so distracted them that they gave insufficient weight to mounting evidence? Oh. Could it perhaps be the drug wars???? Gee, the other war we have not won because, actually, it was not meant to be won. God knows what it was intended to accomplish, because eradication of illegal drug trade is about as realistic as eradication of hate in the human heart. Give it a fucking break. No, it was and is an excellent way to make oodles of money, infiltrate legitimate society, imprison..my gawd. I can't even begin to approach what the actual monster is in that arena. But it apparently must have been that which kept their eyes averted. I mean, WHAT THE FUCK WERE THEY DOING????
Oh well... Here.The Alchemed Society. This group definitely has a handle on this so called drug war. And more truth than our government has issued since Jefferson was screwing his slaves. Ah well. America. One day synonymous with Atlantis?. Advanced civilization lost to the ruins of the corrupt human heart?
Well, now that I've depressed myself, I think I'll just have a toke or two before I begin my day. And you know what? What I just wrote? These days, is it enough to get me busted? Because I know I have less protection than last week. If I actually ever had it at all.

Ok. have upgraded to Pro, requested ad removal from Blog Spot, and now re discover what i now remember i knew- no frigging images can be uploaded. Don't really want to return to Tripod as host so, oh well. Not a crucial issue now.
Would like to figure out how to implement awesome new template I downloaded from Design in Reflection but it's all rather confusing at this point. Lets try again. later

just went to blog pro so it is TESTING again. sorry

It would get a tad tedious to keep a blog per mood. When I'm in a ranting mode, usually incited by the usual inflammatory, i.e., Cincinnati politics, race capers ala Jesse Jackson and his horde of devouring little Jesse locusts, war appeasers or right to lifers...well that could be the ranting platform blog. Then I'm in a pondering , philosophical mode and things get rather 'journal' like, which, as I understand Blogger etiquette, is a no-no. 'Blog' comes from 'weblogs', implicit in title is that you LOG the web via links referring readers to sites expanding on your particular discourse.

I also want 'the road' to continue as the main theme, given I simply live the road and live on the road and spent the majority of my youth on the road. So. Road it is. Which actually presents, in itself, the obvious layout. As I 'travel, exercising and employing my limo life tales, and find myself veering too much into one or another kind of 'off blog' topic, if you will, I'll just present an off ramp to that particular blog.
Which brings me, for whatever reason, to some links on the Carlyle group. I'm not sure of their credibility. I realize one may actually choose ones news on the net and find only what pleases them to believe. I don't want to believe nefarious things about the bush administrations, but surely this type of info gives one pause. I imagine the thing is to see how the conservatives cover the same material. Yet, there appear to be those republicans who are increasingly disenchanted with the Bush. Limbaugh, being one of the more consistently critical, citing economic and domestic policies so diluted by liberal accommodations as to be indistinguishable from some stuff that would have issued from the Clinton administration.
And then there is today's 180. Bush announces that, after all, it's us humans fucking up the planet. Gee, ya think?!? Of course, this accommodates those nations pissed at us for some ecological accord we refused to sign back pre- 9eleven. You remember, when the Bush seemed intent on alienating all our allies.


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


Hey look at this shit. .More censorship. An officer, seemingly in possession of sufficient years and credentials to merit a fair hearing. But, be that as it may, he violated some eclectic military code, Article 88, proscribing "contemptuous words" used against "the president or other senior officers" and is subject, thus, to a court fucking martial, Hallelujah, swear to Gawd the end is near. In the comfort of our present freedom, I can sit ensconced in all that succors me, exercising the freedoms I breathe, and thus, not yet, feel the razor cold winds coming, should this stealthy, piece by piece vivisection of our freedoms proceed.
Here, I'm gonna go find a link to this site that is so amateurish and garish, but, none the less, offering some penetrating angles and interpretations and guaranteed to turn the more shaken among us into card carrying conspiracy freaks. but, being in possession of my somewhat addled faculties, I view it askance, not quite sure of whose voice and brain is offering these words as truth. Here It looks ridiculous,but, when time allows, there are enough verifiable names and sources to give an indication how reliable their info is.

**Random Thoughts**

**The rain is about her business, mixing it up with saucy breezes but , even so, it is a slow intentional rain. Summer is lush and I don't feel at all lush. More like slush. Mushed slush. Buttery. If someone tried to hug or embrace me I'd jump out of my skin. No matter how thin others say I am, I, can feel the weight of me. More than I'd care to have embraced.

**Is it not rather disingenuous for the FBI to defend their enlarged powers by stating now the agents have the same investigative powers the public has. The complete truth is that the public has not the same power the FBI has. We may be able to investigate as deeply as money and resources allow any private joe to pursue information, but we haven't the power to utilize the info, arrest or destroy lives with what we learn.

**It is also a tad deceptive to implement all these changes in order to assure we are not caught off guard the next time. Thing is, they already HAD the necessary info to prevent it, info gathered within the purview of old FBI mandates. The onus was on them to 'connect the dots', (a phrase in the last few days that has already been used way too much) so the failure is utilization and analysis and communication, internally. They have not once said that info they can now legally collect would have prevented nine eleven. The info was obtainable before, had been obtained. They failed to figure it out. But they are using this to justify more sweeping measures when they could not even handle the lesser amount of data previously available to them.
"Had the new guidelines been in place last summer, the FBI field agents in Minneapolis would not have had to get headquarters approval for seeking a search warrant in the Moussaoui case. Approval could now come from the "special agent in charge" at a field office." CNN.com . See, it is their internal apparatus that prevented communication of vital data, not lack of data.

**Yeah, I know we need to be omniscient, it would seem. But what next? Let's say one of these frigging suicide sluts enter a suburban mall. Let's say in Houston. Kills 50 people. Public is outraged. They clamor for 'more security'. What security can prevent these small, undetectable, under the radar, individual human trajectories? It may be able to identify the larger group supporting this activity but not the little human 'satellite' acting largely on their own. No. We can swat at the individual killer bees, as it were, but if we can't destroy the Mother nest, well.... And THAT is something mr. average joe can't accomplish. Unless something more profitable than oil comes into the game. Until men in general quit wanting to rule the fucking planet. Until, until, until..the fucking cows come home, mr average joe can only hold on tight while the religious zealots and monstrous egos out there rock the planet.


*Another thing too. Maybe a couple of things. Where are all those frigging militia nuts now? The ones hoarding food and ammo and teaching military strategy to their kids. If they don't want to fight for the government , why are they not offering their services as mercenaries, or doing something for the country they have such ardor for. Probably hunkering down and hoarding even more for the day it all collapses, when they will probably be feeling quite smug about the situation.

**And this. You just try to eliminate racial profiling the day the first suicide slut hits. There are going to be quite a few of innocent dead Arabs and Muslims. Inevitable. But, what I truly, most ardently feel is inevitable, should terrorism frequent our cities, is that they will restrict OUR freedom to cross state lines and they will justify it by saying that to filter these little suicide sluts out, they must intensify the net. Then let us say transportation of goods in this country is substantially impacted and you have huge city populations unable to get basic goods. Then comes black market and then comes gangs and , bottom line, it will not seem a very safe proposition to live in the city. But guess what. Lot's of folks will have come to same conclusion and there will be exodus to the farmlands and the mountains and the vast reaches of America formerly utilized for vacation purposes only. But those mountain and farm folk, well, they are not going to welcome us with open arms and succor. more likely gun fire. More likely you will not be PERMITTED to move. More likely you might become a prisoner to your present address. That is utterly terrifying. The day I can not jump in my Jeep with a suitcase and a prayer, and hit the highways to find or create a new life... . Whatever. The day there isn't gas to buy, the day I need 'paperwork' to cross over into Kentucky. That day, is the day America, as I know it anyway, will be dead. If there are no freedoms like that, there is no America.

**Summer, or the pageants of summer, are inexorable. Music playing softly in backyards as people brush pastry crumbs off the morning paper, sip their coffee and ponder a fat succulent sunny Sunday, American style. Baseball, boating, recreation parks, camping, swimming, hiking. With beer and music and hot dogs and hamburgers and Beach Boy tunes in the sound track. We are America. Don't fuck with us. I think I'm seriously going to pursue lessons at the shooting range. A good American should. No? Help out the beleaguered FBI. Somehow I don't think they are going to help me.