Saturday Briefs

Here are some briefs that I decided to put into one post instead of several separate ones.

One
Last Tuesday, I noticed for the first time that the grass was beginning to turn a brighter green as a sign that spring was here.

But Friday, a typical spring bad weather loop was thrown. I was out early, and the sky was overcast from rains that had fallen since Thursday night. The temperatures were in the high 30s. The forecast high was 51 and the forecast low was 37. As for today, the high is forecast to be 53 and the low tonight is forecast to be 36.

Two
I was out at the grocery store and, as I was buying my provisions, I saw a couple books in the calling/greeting card section. One was a book of sports statistics. The other was a book of short inspirational sports stories.

They were published by Hallmark Cards and ESPN.

I thought they were books that a grandmother or aunt would give a grandson or nephew ages 5-15 for his birthday or Chrstimas if the laidies didn't know what he exactly wanted.

Those books were nice gifts, and women of that age (40 or older, at least semi-retired) of the upper-middle to upper class like their things to be nice and their colors to be pastel.

Three
Sitting on a small plate in my kitchen is a wishbone from a broasted chicken I had deboned and deskinned. I had come across it by accident and not on purpose.

I'd like to keep it but it's fragile -- it could snap very easily -- and I don't know where I could store it at my place.

Four
Come Jan. 20, 2017, the end of Barack Obama's second term as president, I predict these group of people will be so happy that they'll pop the champaign and toast:

A. The racists who never wanted to see a black man as president or even in the Oval Office unless he was a janitor;

B. The active agents of the U.S. Secret Service, because the job of guarding the president will become much less stressful and dangerous.

What You Do With Your Stuff

When you talk about tendencies, to say there are two types of people is somewhat of a cliche and a stereotype. But it often comes close and should be used judiciously, like salt.

Recently, I thought of this example of two type of people:

The type of person who comes home in the evening or at night, dumps his stuff and then goes to bed. He picks up that stuff in the morning.

Then there's the type of person who comes home in the evening or at night, but puts his stuff up and then goes to bed after it's put in its place.

American Equivalents To Nazi Phenomena

The sheriff's deputies in the Deep South states in the 1960s, fighting against the civil rights movement = SA stormtroopers.

Fraternity "bros" beating on a black man or gay man = SS members.

It's a matter of class.

Please keep this is mind as I work on a post on the worthlessness of s0cial/economic classes in the United States. 

Giving Thanks

As the sun drops below the western horizon, and the darkness of night in late November comes for approximately 14 hours, I pause to give thanks that I:

Am alive and in relatively decent health for a man of my age and lack of exercise;

Will be having Thanksgiving dinner with my older brother and his family tomorrow, therefore having some companionship after spending today by myself;

Have no reason to go to any stores of shopping malls tomorrow or tonight. Yes, tonight; the stories just can't wait to start the sales.

Some call tomorrow Black Friday because black = profits. I call it Black Friday because black = tragedy. 

After Thoughts About The Fourth

Since yesterday was the Fourth of July, I was halfway tempted to post, at my true name's Facebook page, the following thought:

If the War of Independence had failed, then Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Hamilton, Madison, and other Founding Fathers would've been hung as traitors to the Crown, while Franklin would've lived out the rest of his life in France, chasing les dames.

I also would've posted this: 

If you support the current establishment, then please don't celebrate Independence Day, because if you had been alive in 1776, you would've supported the Brits.

But I didn't do either. I didn't want to read any shit from anyone like what do you mean by that? what's wrong with you? and any other comments that would've been of fear, anger, incomprehension, and resistance.

I have about 230 "friends" on my Facebook page. Many of them are people I knew in high school, and I graduated in 1972. Many of them are good people, but they just don't have a lot of imagination or the ability to see things differently.

Saying the Founding Fathers would've been hung if the British had won the War of Independence would throw many of them for a loop, because history didn't happen that way -- the way the Lord intended. 

And top dogs don't realized that whatever the system, they would've tried to be top dogs: A constitutional monarchy, a tyranny, or a representative democracy.

I've thought that, and I'm goddamm tired of people treating me like some heinous criminal like Jerry Sandusky because of my thoughts. What I think it not illegal. Although to some people, you can break the law for some things if you follow and conform to the social norms. That's the main point I got from Camus' The Stranger.

Those two groups are two large reasons why I despise American society, and try to have as little to do with it as I can. 
Well, enough of this rant for now. However, I have two unrelated things to add:

Besides my Facebook "friends" from high school, from which I graduated in 1972, others are stand-up comedians I got to know between 2005 and 2008, when I starting going to open mikes in the Indianapolis area. Between those 33 years, I went to college and worked at several jobs. I am not a Facebook "friend" to anyone I've met during that time. (They haven't approached me, and, to be honest, I haven't approached them because I don't spend all that much time on it and some of those people are NOT worth a Facebook "friendship.")

And Jerry Sandusky was the former defensive co-ordinator for the Penn State football team who was convicted last month of 40-plus counts of sexually abusing underage boys.

It seems as if the powers that be at Penn State knew of this but didn't act on it.

If Sandusky had been caught sexing a Penn State football player, of legal age and in a consensual act, I wonder how soon he would've been fired and kicked out town if not Pennsylvania.

Not Fully Human

Here are two examples of people who are not fully human. One never had full humanity. The other had lost it.

One
A boss I had about 35 years ago had the personality of a wall. But it was a wall made of concrete blocks or drywall and not from, say, bricks. They have some character with the mortar sticking out irregularly between them.

Two
There was the mub: Half man and half grub. I once knew a man like that. He was pale with a very light yellowish tinge to his skin. He was bald and short: No taller than 5ft6in, if that. He also wore those eyeglasses where the lenses turn dark in sunlight; his glasses were like that when he was inside.

What was most creepy was that he spoke in low tones, as if he was selling drugs and pornography. And not, say, marijuana and Sports Illustrated/Playboy pinups; it was more like heroin and pictures of teenagers fucking.
*
These are from notes I found in my put-this-in-the-blog-folder. I decided to combine them because they are somewhat related.

interview/innerview

and for what reason do we owe this interview ... or innerview, if you will?

i had published a list of gas prices at several locations in the area. it was the first post in this blog for about six and a half weeks. and it was made for two reasons: i wanted to get something in the blog during may; and it might as well some sort of news report.

as i finished it, i realized that i had started put put aside this interview ... or innerview, as i will.

what was the question you were asked to start that?

in the middle of may, i turned 57 years and 8 months old. my birthday will be in the middle of september; i'll be 58 years old then. and in 2012, i'll be marking the 40th anniversary of my graduation from high school. and i'm not looking forward to it.

why?

time. it passes. and regrets. and it's true. you have more regrets for the things you didn't do. and i haven't done a lot of things.

what are they?

too many to list here. probably later. if ever.

why not do them?

again, age. they are things i wish i had done when i was a younger man. a man my age doing them seems foolish. and i didn't do them because i was psychologically crippled. unfortunately for me.

at times, i feel like i'm stuck at a certain age mentally: like i'm back in high school and i haven't gotten any older. substance abuse counselors and experts say a person gets frozen at a certain age when he or she starts abusing substances, especially alcohol. i might go into the reasons why i feel this, but later, as i said.

and location. this is indiana, where offbeat things and people aren't truly appreciated. i'm tired of anticipating a beforehand explanation of myself and what i do. i'm not doing anything illegal. so shut the fuck up and leave me the fuck alone. and definitely do NOT try to stop me.

you haven't posted that much this year as you have other years. why is that?

i've found other things to take up my time. but i've lost a lot of interest in this blog. plus, i'm going through a nothing-matters-much-so-why-do-anything mental outlook. it might just be a hangover from dealing with the death of my parents.

i've been halfway tempted to delete a lot of these posts and leave just a few remains. i don't get a lot of traffic here, i'll admit that. few people will miss them. many of them don't add that much to the internet conversation. but i they are a lot better then some of the blather i've read in some blogs -- especially the political ones.

but there are four things i'm proud to have written, and i'd leave them here:

• my story about Batman and his discovery of bagels;
• an observation i made of what i call the egoless i;
• my short story 'a few things as the gas and go.'
• and a conversation between a man and his friend named saunders.

jesus, i'm even too fucking lazy to post links to them. prowl through the labels at the right side of this blog; you'll find links to them there and possibly other posts you might enjoy.

so ... what now?

i don't know. i'll just leave this blog here. possibly delete some posts. maybe come back to it later ... definitely by july the fourth, if not before then. because i don't want to delete all of it.

plus, i need to get a new computer. i bought this one in 2004 and it's starting to get slower because it's old.

i noticed you don't have any capital letters in this post, as you did when you first started. any reason why?

i like the look of all small letters.

any last words for today?

gentlemen, whatever you feel for a lady, don't call it love if you just want to get laid.

also, frank wrote me lately. he had this line i want to quote:

be grateful you're alive. and don't be grateful if you're dead. do you think jerry garcia is happy?

ADDENUM: for the record, this is the 570th post in this blog.

Guidelines For Times In The Day

For 11 a.m.
1. It's a strange time of day because it's not truly morning but not yet afternoon.
2. Any meal eaten after then is lunch. It is NOT breakfast or brunch.
3. Any all-day project you start before then should be completed. If you haven't started it by then, put it off until tomorrow, at the earliest.

For 2 p.m.
1. Any food eaten after that is a snack. It's too late for lunch and too early for dinner.
2. Any nap should start no later than 2:30 p.m. and last no longer than 45 minutes.

For 5 p.m.
1. It's the start of the evening, which will last until whenever the sun goes down over the horizon. And 4:50 p.m. is not the evening; it's late afternoon.

More will come as I think of them.

A Woman Has A Close Male Friend

A woman has a close male friend.

This means he is probably interested in her, which is why he hangs around her. She sees him strictly as a friend. This always starts out when she says, "You're a great guy, but I don't like you in that way."

This is the equivalent of the guy who goes to a job interview and the personnel manager tells him:

"You have all the qualifications we are looking for, but we're not going to hire you. We will, however, use your resume as the basis for comparison for all other applicants. We're going to hire somebody who is far less qualified and is probably an alcoholic. And if he doesn't work out, we'll hire somebody else. But we still won't hire you. In fact, we will never hire you. But we will call you from time to time to complain about the person that we hired."

And this one reason why platonic relations between men and women rarely work.

(Reworded from a joke found at the qdb site c/o bash.org)

Experts

I tend to be skeptical about experts, especially if they have advice on how to improve my life.

Some of them have good intentions but don't know any better either through ignorance of other ways or unwillingness to learn.

Some are not truly concerned with you and your problems and issues. They have their own agenda, which you should...or must...follow.

Some are outright frauds.

Some are good. I would use them as advisors; take what they recommend under serious consideration before you act on those recommendations.

I came to think that way about them after I went to a couple of psychotherapists. I thought: Why not get friends or lover to talk with? Hiring someone to listen to you talk is like hiring a prostitute for sex.

But I found out that they can give an outside perspective that you could use.

A Few Thoughs About Humor

One
I have found the internet equivalent of wit:

Not using LOL or emoticons like :) after you tell a joke.

If you use them, it's as if you don't trust your audience is smart enough to get the joke.

Two
Laughter has two effects for the hurt soul: A medicine to sooth and heal it, or a shield to cover it.

I'm reminded of this when I thought of an episode of Friends, when Phoebe dated a psychotherapist. After he met Chandler, he said, "I don't know if I want to be around when the laughter stops and the crying begins."

Three
A joke. I don't know if it's original to me, or if I read it on the internet and wrote it out subconsciously:

Q: What's the name of the guy who made Citizen Kane but he was also known for setting buildings on fire?

A: Arson Welles.

The Tabloid Mind

On the Internet, I recently came across a site that showed a series of pictures of celebrities, mostly women, without makeup.

It reminded me of what I've learned of the tabloid mind.

The tabloids -- that includes publications like The National Enquirer, television shows like TMZ, and certain web sites -- will often built up celebrities. With the same effort, they will tear them down.

Sometimes it'll be with pictures that are somewhat silly, like celebrities out shopping while wearing very casual clothes. Often, and with a meaner attitude, they show female celebrities who make a living from their beauty without makeup. At times, they look like horrid hags.

It also will show some celebrities at personal bottoms in their lives, such as when they are under the influence of drugs and alcohol or in terrible medical condition.

They follow hierarchy but will secretly mock it.

Another example of the tabloid mind is denouncing the loss of public morality while running pictures of topless women. This happens in England and not in the United States.

(By the way, I've yet to see a general magazine published in this country that ran pictures of a fully naked female bosom, showing especially show the nipples.)

The tabloids, if you want to describe its political outlook, is conservative: Bowling to traditional authority and a strong flag-waving jingoism that has crossed the line from patriotism to nationalism. This is dominant in the lower middle classes and working classes, the traditional tabloid audience. And it is why the proles, such as they are, will never be in the vanguard of any revolution.

It is no coincidence that Rupert Murdoch's media outlets, like The New York Post and Fox News, have this as an approach.

Justifications

A few days ago, I came across a picture of "The Altar," a poem by English poet George Herbert.

Here it is:


Its form makes it a pattern poem, which is a 17th century version of concrete poetry.

Herbert also was a member of the school one of metaphysical poets; John Donne was the most famous of them. To these poets, religion and lust are often co-equivalent.

Then I thought of a person who once told me that sex was like a sacrament. When I heard that, I rolled my eyes are one of the most foolish things that men do:

Using God, their beliefs in it, and its power to justify your beliefs.

I'm reminded of the Roman Catholic Church, which considers all -- all -- sexual activity sinful unless it's between a husband and wife to conceive children.

I would respect organized religion in general and Christianity specifically if they were not so quick to use God as their theological support for anything they want.

One Big Mistake

One big mistake I've made in my life is having a lack of courage, or acting like a coward, especially at work.

I have put up with idiots and the idiotic situations that theymade. I can only think of a handful of bosses who i respected as superiors. The rest were idiots who weren't better than me; they were just higher up on an organizational ladder. After I left, those bosses and their organizations were worth only my scorn.

As I look back, many people take silence as approval and acceptance. Unfortunately.

I blame myself. I never had the courage to get away from one thing I wanted: Approval of my father, who ran from confrontational situations and never...never...taught me...or even urged me...to stand up for myself.

The reason is that he never stood up for himself. His mother psychologically castrated him: Cut out his backbone, guts and balls. That's why I despise the bitch.

Meanwhile, his father was distant and didn't get emotionally involved with my father's raising.

I know the word cunt is the deepest insult for a woman...much like nigger is for black...but my paternal grandmother is the one woman who I would call cunt.

That's about it for this post. More self revelations to come.

An Admission And A New Direction

When I read and think about yesterday's post, I was surprised at how direct it was for me and what I've posted in this blog. Direct because I said there were some women who I just wanted to fuck with no concern for their wants and needs.

One was a Jewish woman with whom I worked at at newspaper in the Midwest. She admitted she was a J.A.P. -- a Jewish-American Princess. Yes, I know it's an ethnic slur, but she called herself that. Also, a J.A.P. is the Jewish version of the gentile Suzy Sorority. I despised her, yet she was one of the few women who worked at that newspaper who I wanted to fuck. That olive skin, that black hair, that Roman nose...damn, if I were decades younger I'd get an erection and masturbate -- or I could say get a hardon and jack off.

Yes, I am an angry, bitter, cynical, depressed and despairing middle-aged man. I have no lover in my life. I have few friends. I'm close only to one relative: My younger brother. I've given up on most of central Indiana, this state and the Midwest. I think it's conventional, conformist and conservative for the worst reasons: fear of change in general. Therefore, I'm a bit of a recluse because I find it hard to tolerate dealing with most people and don't know how to reject them or put them off without telling them to fuck themselves in all their holes.

I'm semi-retired, or haven't worked for at least three years, I'll admit that much. For now. Never did find a job that paid well enough or a career that satisfied me. If I had to do it all over again, I would've taken a civil service job with the federal government, put in at least 20 years and go from there. But it's too late for that. Or so I think and feel. I've inherited some money from my parents' estate and can live off it for a while.

Those are some of the details that I haven't written before. More will be coming. I guess it comes from the thaw we're having; two weeks ago, central Indiana had a terrible ice storm that shut down things for at least two days. and the desire for a new leaf...a green leaf...which is appropriate because spring will be here in about a month.

So...watch this space.

Valentine Notes

Today is St. Valentine's Day, a day to show your love to your lover, or whatever you and society call him or her.

I decided today to make a list of the women I wanted to fuck. Love, or at the least affection, I felt for some of them. But mostly it was lust: The desire to put my penis deep inside their vaginas for my sexual satisfaction. If they were satisfied, that was up to them.

I decided to do this because I'm an angry, cynical, depressed and despairing man these days. Also, I don't have a girlfriend or lover or wife who might be pissed off at my list.

Most of them I didn't fuck because of circumstances. Two big ones were their involvement with others and my cowardice to make a move.

I included women who were costudents in high school and college, some coworkers, some I knew outside those two areas, movie actress and porn stars.

I came up with between 45-50 names off the top of my head. That's much less than the 72 virgins that militant Moslem suicide bombers are promised when they enter Paradise. The list was longer when I made it before.

I won't name the women I knew out of courtesy to and respect for them. I won't name any movie actress or porn stars out of courtesy to and respect for me.

And as I thought of Valentine's Dayespecially its commercialization, I also thought of the people who complain about it but give in to social pressures to follow it and do nothing about resisting it.

No wonder this country will never have a broadbased revolution to change society. If people won't resist the commercialization of a minor holiday (few people, if any, automatically got today off work) because of what other people would think of them if they didn't go along with social expectations...well fuck them. They deserve the shit this life has to offer them.

To call these people pussies to insult good cats and good vaginas. Instead, call them by their rightful name:

COWARDS.

If you readers have someone in your life, I truly hope you and them had a happy Valentine's Day. I also hope you do all you can to keep having good Valentine's Days in the future.

Old Gold And Blue, Fading Away

Western Michigan? Tulsa?

Notre Dame football fans, I tell you this: You ought to be ashamed of yourselves. These two teams are NOT great tests on the gridiron.

You ought to face this fact: the Fighting Irish are no longer a national football powerhouse and hasn't been one for the last few years. I don't know exactly why that happened, but one reason, I believe, is that it can no longer get premier players because of its strict academic requirements.

(It's not because football players are by nature stupid. But if you had a choice of spending most of your time practicing and playing football, as the professionals do, or dividing your time between going to classes and studying or football, the ones focused on football will have the advantage.

( I'm looking at you, Southeastern Conference schools. All of you, except for Vanderbilt, are not know for your academics. You continue and perpetuate the idea that in the South, "book larnin'" is for sissies and faggots.)

Notre Dame's record so far this season is 4-5. It lost -- yes, lost -- to Tulsa 28-27 last Saturday. It lost to Navy for the second straight year after a decades-long record of beating the Middies and also to a Michigan team that is down this season.

The Irish will now rest and recuperate until their next game November 13 against...Utah. Good luck , Irish. And after I wrote that sentence, I was surprised that I wished them good luck against Utah.

But Notre Dame fans still continue and want to think the Irish are a national powerhouse, and run off/fire any coach who doesn't get them a national title, let alone a Top Ten standing.

Face it: Your team is like Army and Navy. They're in Division I, the big boy category in college football, because of tradition. They ought to be in Division I-A.

They have faded, just like Ivy League football faded when the Big Ten came to prominence, and the Big Ten faded (for a while, though) when the SEC and the Pac-8 (now Pac-10) came into prominence.

As for the whole scene around the team, I have mixed feelings. Notre Dame football is like Jesus; the two of them are good in and of and by themselves, but some of their fans are among the biggest assholes you will ever meet.

That's especially noticeable for some Irish fans in the Indianapolis area. They react to critics and criticisms of the football team as if they're anti-Catholic.

There was the South Bend radio fool who said God gave Michigan State coach Mark Dantonio a heart attack for cheating against Notre Dame. If you want more details, click here for the details.

This is the kind of ignorant foolishness that some Irish fans would've believed back in the 1950s and early 1960s. I think he was kidding, but some people might've thought he wasn't.

(Michigan State, by the way, defeated Notre Dame 34-31 in overtime on Sept. 18.)

That outlook has much to do with the provincial and inward mentality -- parochial, in other words -- of midwestern Catholics. Surrounded by Protestants/heretics/non believers, they turn inward in fear of persecution or corruption by these influences outside their church.

I remind you that 50 years ago, when John Kennedy ran against Richard Nixon for president, many people wondered if Kennedy's loyalties would to be toward the United States or the Vatican. And 90 years ago, when the Ku Klux Klan dominated state politics, the Klan was known to be anti-Catholic, besides being anti-semitic and anti-black.

Notre Dame, although you lost to Tulsa, you might -- might -- go to a bowl. It won't be one of the big bowls, though, and you probably won't be going to any big bowls in the future.

NOTE: This is a post updated from one I wrote October 26. A few additions were needed to make it more relevant.

Friends? Please

Recently I received a mailing that promoted the services of a local

It was addressed to Our Friends At...

I usually ignore these mailings and recycle them after a quick read. But this time I thought:

Friends? I don't think so.

First, there's only one person here. That's me. It's been that way for years now. If you were my friend, you would've known that.

Second, this friendship is a step below the friendships I have with some people on Facebook. I may not have directly seen or talked with many of them for decades, but at the least we know each other.

I would prefer being addressed as Resident on the instead of this false friendship.

Some Short Subjects

I post these here as one post because they fit better this way than as separate entries.

One
These words have two things in common:

Snuff, sniff, snort, sneeze, snow, snark, snide, snap, snag, snafu, snake, snatch, sneak, snipe, snicker, snug, snub, sneer, snob, snoop, sneak and snap.

Two
When I surf the Internet, I often wonder which one is a bigger waste of time, money, effort and space:

• Sites full of half-naked women;
• Sites full of half-baked opinions.

Three
If the patterns in the wall paper start talking to you...instead of ignoring them...talk back to them...hey, they might be friendly...and you need all the friends , crazy or not, that you can get to make it through this world ...

Nostalgia? No Sir

I have no nostalgia for the yoke, like the ones that farmers use on oxen or cattle.

There's no need to yoke sheep. Just get their leader under your control and they will follow the leader.

I have no nostalgia for oppressive organizations, like some forms of religion. At the least, they will yoke your mind and choke your mind.