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Friday, August 30, 2013

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Happy Friday!

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Thursday, August 29, 2013

“Beware of those whose ignorance is joined with piety.”

Leo Rosten’s

(Treasury of Jewish Quotations)

I ought to write about Syria. I might indulge in one solid paragraph.

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Health

First, I’ll write in a literary free form style which I don’t agree with because it allows for a lot of stalling of the main subject matter in thesis.

Second, no, I’m not dying. (Not even close.) Thank the Gods.

Yes, I live with slow-numbing excruciating amount of pain each and every single day for months on end and there’s nothing anybody can do much about except…

Third, no, I’m not mentally insane. (Not even close.) Thank the Gods. (Yes, I’m just as crazy as anybody else.)

Fourth, yes, I’ll live another forty years, easily, and with my good luck I’ll live to be one-hundred and twenty and rejoice with the tortoises as large as coffee tables. (No, I neither take to handling nor touching of any wild nature or wild life otherwise it would be irresponsible of me to do so.)

I’m healthy as a barn horse however my body is once again experiencing physical pain and there’s nothing to do but to have two operations back-to-back within the next two months. Period. (This fall is going to be interesting.)

Fifth, no, I don’t need anybody to feel sorry for me because, well, my life has been an extraordinarily great adventure even though gravely dangerous at times.

Sixth, yes, I’m, too, old for others’ stupidity.

Yes, within the decade of my thirties, I’ve almost came close to getting killed by men who I thought were my friends but truly they were an enemy of the state. Oh, my! People sure have taken my breath away just within the recent decade.

[Yes, about six years ago, a horse trainer unleashed his envious, vicious and maniacal horse upon me.

All I could do was to breathe through such an endeavor and event such as that one.

The trainer, left the horse and I, alone, together in a training arena knowing perfectly, well, that, his horse had tried to bite at me and make a run towards me, previous.

By the time I was done measuring the floor with my feet to set up a shot for the camera, I looked up, saw and realized that the horse made half a loop in the arena at half speed, then a complete full loop followed at full speed towards me and by then I knew I was in trouble and it was real trouble, life-and-death sort of trouble, and it was too late for me to make a move and outrun the horse.

I knew in those fleeting moments, in, which, everything slowed down and went silent, that, was the moment; I realized that there was no way for me to outrun the angry and insane horse even if I tried my hardest. (Literally.)

No, I wasn’t going to have the chance to outrun a horse crazy with hatred towards me. (I’ve been taught that the way animals react to others is really the way that their masters feel towards you and themselves.) Holy Toledo.

The damn horse gathered momentum to strike a deadly blow.

The horse charged at me at full gallop ready to take me out.

I held my composure.

I stood quietly and still, with my feet, shoulder-wide-apart and breathed.

I looked around to see if I could use anything for defense or protection, but there wasn’t anything.

I knew I couldn’t outrun the horse at any one point.

I also knew that I was, too, far a distance to anything to hide for cover.

As the horse made its way down the straight-of-way and gathered velocity and momentum, I made a fist, steadied my stance, and quickly made up my stubborn mind to give the horse the blow of his life just like I would a shark any day of the week.

Yes, I realized that the horse would probably take me out but in that process I was going to strike a blindingly harsh blow and hopefully grab an eyeball or tear an ear as I was going down and the horse was going to come down with me, no doubt about it.

I wasn’t going to let the horse get away with such disgrace.

Literally within one-hundredth of a second of the horse missing me, the trainer intervened and jumped out in between the horse and I, the trainer waved his arms and yelled for the horse to stir direction.

I’m telling you.

This summer, when I told my father, that, he was livid.

My father told me that when people own animals then it’s the sole responsibility of the animal owner to control their animals from harming any human life or the lives of other animals.

Yes, I know hatred in ways that you’d be surprised.

I know. I know. Yep.

People can call themselves your friends but when they seek a way to trap you or to kill you then game over.

What a bunch of closeted doughbags. Can you believe it? Friends who’d love to kill you? I get informed that it’s not uncommon in America. People sure are hot messes.

Personally, I think that it all worked out as it did, subconsciously, because when we met; the horse trainer’s best buddy and I ended up dating.

I dated our mutual friend, who’s now passed away, killed in a car accident, by our other acquainted friend, a few short years ago.]

No, I don’t regret almost anything that I’ve done in my life.

Yes, I’ve walked away unscathed from many a terrible situation.

Yes, it’s a tough life in America to be an assertive, thoughtful and independent woman of color. I was born a thousand years ahead of my Era.

Yes, I do feel trapped in this time Era (not literally, not like a time travel machine more like a sentiment expressed) simply, only, that, I expected more and better innovative and technical advancements at this late stage in the game of progress. Ha! (I know that made sense to you.)

Yes, when I wake up from surgery for the second and third time, I’d like to meet and make great mature adult friendships in the Twin Cities because at this rate we’ll have to either move to Chicago, Manhattan or __ where our villages are, in order, to be close to our closest friends who, like hell if they’ll ever move to Minnesota.

No, I’m not lonely.

Yes, I’m bored by the violence of my previous friendships.

Yes, we have so much love in our lives.

We’re lucky to be so unconditionally loved by so many however as far as a community is concerned we could be surfing in Costa Rica however our elders reside in Minnesota, and it’s of vital consequence, that, we stay here to support our family, and extended families, as well as, our close friends, whose families reside in Minnesota however our friends ran for the mountains and the ocean the moment they turned eighteen, and most likely they shan’t return to live in Minnesota, when they made lives elsewhere, early on. You understood that.

No, I don’t have to justify loneliness to anyone.

No, I’m not lonely only in search of a community of respectful, mature, healthy and mindful, intelligent adults without gossip or slander.

My closest friends tell me to stick with them which I do however a local community of intellectuals would be a blast to say the least and everybody knows that. It’s not like on short notice, you can go out to coffee with your buddies when they live in California and you live in Minnesota. You understood that. My best friends reside all over the world except here and that’s rough at times. I knew I should’ve moved to Barcelona long ago.

No, I’m not talking about loneliness.

Yes, I’m talking about a sense of belonging.

The sense of belonging is more of a sentiment possible more deeply rooted in the Latin rather than English.

Monday was the last time that I’ll hang out with a man that showed me more hatred than love and I got irritated by him because he was one of the last of the morbid pack of hens (men) I stopped hanging out with, last May 2012.

‘Run!’ My brain said.

Run as fast as you can and don’t stop until you’ve reached…

At the end of our conversation as we headed to the car I said to a man: “Thanks, for such a nice time. There was nothing to worry about.”

“What do you have to be worried about?” He emotionally pinched me and I wanted to leave him standing right there and then, stranded and without a ride.

I sighed deeply.

“You? You can’t possibly have anything to worry about.” He spoke angrily.

I faked a smile and reassured him, his acute and narrow point of view.

As of two weeks ago, yesterday, exactly, I stopped hemorrhaging from six straight weeks of hellish pain.

Now, if one bleeds too much then one gets light headed and passes out which I never did in those six weeks. The abdominal pain has become more increasingly painful with each passing week and that’s that.

Yes, I’ve gone through medical test after test and well, here we go again.

Finally, yes, I’m horrified to be cut open again, twice, this fall.

Yes, our, one, family-member is finally getting over breast cancer that left burned holes on her chest from the radiation and well thus is life.

Yes, our other family member is finally healthy after cataract surgery.

Yes, our other family member keeps breaking his ankle time after time.

Yes, our other family member keeps breaking her brittle bones.

Yes, our other family member deals with horrible back pain after a tremendous car accident.

Yes, our family and friend’s friends are diagnosed with all sorts of cancers.

Yes, our one family member just recently within this summer lost her professional position after twenty straight years of excellent service.

Please. To say that I have nothing to worry about is a gross understatement and inconsiderate because it implies that I have no one to love, and that’s just not true.

Just because I don’t show my emotions, it doesn’t mean that life isn’t happening to us because it sure is. What a year!

And after all’s said and done, I discovered in my mid-thirties that a few Minnesota friends who do reside here are complete and total assholes. Great!

Yes, our family’s neighbors are getting over last summer’s massive flash floods and property damage.

Yes, this year, our taxes were through the roof and well, that’s that.

Yes, we’ve done our duty for King and Country.

Yes, we’re responsible adults.

Yes, our nervous pooch is chewing through our home.

Yes, I’d love to meet respectful, intelligent, kind, passionate, logical, non-emotional pinchers, nor cruel brutes.

No, I don’t want to meet people who think they can only judge you according to the prism of their needs, wants and acute perspective.

Crazy Minnesota people sure are crazy.

I’ve had enough.

I deserve better. Way better than what I’ve handled thus far.

I know. I know. I’m such a tease. Yes, I could call upon one of many people to get this social scene started but I’m stuck to the floor and I can’t seem to make a sound with my voice. Stage fright, I think, it’s what it’s called.

Peace.

Gabriel

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Disclaimer: Yes, many grammatical and Societal corrections were made throughout the previous text from yesterday.

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“Where you are loved, go rarely; where you are hated, go never.”

Leo Rosten’s

(Treasury of Jewish Quotations)

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Tortuous: (Twisting, winding, turning, curving)

The tortuous road ascending the mountain caused them much trouble.

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Martin Luther King’s

“I have a dream” speech

I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

In a sense we have come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds." But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check -- a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, "When will you be satisfied?" We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro's basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating "For Whites Only". We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.

I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.

Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.

I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

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Peace.

Peace be with you.

And also with you.

And with thy spirit.

Yes, I come in peace and I shall exodus in peace.

I shan’t hang about any longer than need be.

No, I didn’t come here to scream, shout, or swear, today.

No, no, I came, here, to understand.

I want to believe in the words of Martin Luther King. And, for the most part, I do however I can’t get past the mere fact that Martin Luther King was indeed pronounced a plagiarist in his secondary educational post.

I simply can’t get over the fact that Mr. King was discovered as a complete and total plagiarist because, then, that, means that Mr. King was a hack, a thinking imposter, a dirty thief, but most of all, a literary fake. I can’t seem to swallow that tiny insignificant fact about Mr. King.

By today’s standards:

A plagiarist is expelled from any learning institution or line of work, for life.

To be a plagiarist is to be unoriginal however it’s worse when it’s written down on paper for the entire world to read; therefore a plagiarist takes it upon himself to copy better men’s thoughts and literary hard work that, which, those better men put to paper by the strength of their arms and the muscle of their brains.

Aside from murder and gossip; I understand that to be a plagiarist after the age of eighteen is to become a public liar in front of one’s community and Gods. Oh, my!

I can’t seem to contend with that.

Can you?

I can however I choose not to.

I expect better quality of character from Leaders.

Could you imagine stealing by verbatim another man's text and copying for your very own and placing your name on it? (Ouch.)

I’d rather soon drop dead than to copy another better man’s writing and call it my own, but more so, to copy the author’s intimate thoughts, emotions, sentiments, those, which, he, put to paper with the sweat of his brow, would be complete heresy.

Hypothetically, if I were to copy then I would neither be able to show my writings or face anywhere because then no one would believe me, ever again; if I didn’t take the time and consideration to write my very own original thoughts down then I would become small, exiled from any public speaking of any type or public communication.

An excellent plagiarist doesn’t make for a brilliant thinker.

Seriously, how could one live with oneself hence copied the words of another better man then, thyself, call those very words his own?

It’s all simply, too, ghastly, and the entire ordeal’s too embarrassing to speak of when remotely considering to converse about Mr. King in discussion even though he’s one of the last men that enters my mind when I consider historical figures for leadership.

Martin Luther King would’ve been toast as a leader in the twenty-first century. No one would’ve believed a single word he spoke especially when we have instant online information and communication. Instant Twitter feeds would’ve been twitting all over the place in this digital era, and discovered King a plagiarist.

Mr. King’s legacy lives on however for those who read history as it took place and not as it’s massively glorified, we must uphold to the fast rules of truth, honesty, and frank stature, for the sake of future generations, realizing the weaknesses of men, who, seek power to revolutionize, nevertheless, when it isn’t their place to become leaders, because a plagiarist must leave it up to others to lead hence forth where he ethically failed.

A plagiarist gets expelled in disgrace from any learning institutions, the army, or any other government agency, for that matter, especially from public forums, speaking engagements and any literary approach to public writing and reading or any other form of public communication.

A plagiarist is one who’ll lead others astray.

To be perfectly clear about Mr. Martin Luther King; I don’t even care that he carried on an extra marital affair because that’s none of my business however I do greatly care that he was a plagiarist as a young adult who knew better than to steal better men’s written work.

What a true disappointment.

I think that for the most part Mr. King’s speech has come true.

Black people are judged by the content of their character and not by the color of their skin.

Yes, little white boys and little white girls do and can join hands with little black boys and little black girls as brothers and sisters. (Yes, my sister is a Muslim African American black and we’re of the same family.)

Yes, Georgia’s sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners have and do sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I don’t mean to sound like sour grapes however in Martin Luther King’s speech his dream seems so small when we look back on this fifty year commemoration and consider the police brutality, deadly segregation and severe discrimination, oh wait; it’s the same as today. Never mind that.

So what I’d like to know is: has America fulfilled King’s dream or does America need another fifty years to figure out its racial divide?

Personally, I understand that many of our “Negro” brothers and sisters live and travel from smaller ghettoes to larger ones.

I understand that our American government wants to disperse our “Negro” brothers and sisters throughout our American cities by the means and the power of government public housing however the government leaves the rest of the taxpayers to pick up our “Negro” brothers’ and sisters’ garbage, deal with their volatile violence and ignorance.

Life’s not fair; but dispersing ignorant, abusive and mean-spirited “Negro” brothers and sisters into hard working communities is the greatest and quickest way to breakdown villages, communities and neighborhoods of their astonishing hard work, high taxes and stealing our peace of mind.

I, too, have a dream that someday our black brothers and sisters will take care of their own impoverished state and contribute to this nation.

Yes, King’s smallish dream has come to pass and now I wish for my dreams as well.

I, too, have a dream that our black brothers and sisters will educate themselves, their children and their elderly, and stop throwing garbage all over America’s neighborhoods and streets like our streets are their slaves to be abused and disregarded as the black brothers’ and sisters’ garbage cans.

I, too, have a dream that our black men will pull up their pants to their waists and learn to walk and behave like men.

I, too, have a dream that our black sisters will put on undergarments when they go out into the public sphere and show their feminine grace and dignity.

I, too, have a dream that our black brothers and sisters will join the rest of the country in communicating in proper English and with perfect diction otherwise it’s seemingly un-American not to do so in this modern age.

I, too, have a dream that our black brothers and sisters stop looking for solutions to their problems elsewhere, and put their bodies into a head-long wind and stand to prosper with their intelligence, integrity and grace.

I, too, have a dream that young black brothers and sisters stop looking for so much negative attention outside of their homes.

I, too, have a dream that our black brothers and sisters stop screaming all day long about nothing.

I, too, have a dream that our black brothers and sisters will live for the light and not the shadow of desperation.

I, too, have a dream that while in public, every time, I come across children or young black brothers and sisters, that, they don’t have to be such posers as to break out in song and dance (like performing slave monkeys) for others, just so that they can get noticed because they don’t have any other real tricks in their bags.

Breaking out in song and dance simply to be noticed because one doesn’t, or can’t read, or write, well-enough, is considered queer by modern culture.

To break out in song and dance in the middle of public streets is a great way to show others that there’s nothing extraordinary underneath the thinking cap of the individual. If anything it looks crazy.

Breaking out in song and dance is a whole lot of black cultural smokin’ mirrors and surreal.

There’s a time and place to rejoice in God’s gifts and talents of song and dance, and it just happens not to be out in the middle of the public streets just because your soul is spiritually starved to death.

Black desperate people, too, can lay it on thick and it’s embarrassing to watch any man or woman make a fool out of themselves.

Black desperate people know better than to shallowly charm their way through a world that left them far behind, in a time long ago with King’s basic dream because “black face” is indeed creepy and so is sudden public displays of song and dance.

It’s the creepiest thing to publically see young black youth break out in song and dance, especially when they have no talent, because it reminds the rest of us of the chains black desperate people hold themselves up to.

For black desperate Americans to publically break out in song and dance is to do so like a dog in the streets.

Black desperate people seem to portray an antiquated cartoonish racial expectation of them to charm or perform the pants out of others, but in this day in age it’s considered ignoramus to do so; to disrupt the solitude and quiet corners of others thinking spaces while coming and going.

Publically, to break out in song and dance is pretty much forcing others to ask: “What do you want?” “Why are you here?” “Why are you taking up so much space?” “Where’s your father?”

No one can really trust in a creepy shallow show in this modern era because it makes others think of miming perverts.

When black brothers and sisters require so much recognition for so little, then it’s creepily weird for the black population to be so needy and starved for attention when they can barely speak proper English, much less read or write anything worthwhile.

If one doesn’t know how to read and write, well, then one doesn’t know how to think well and that automatically places one out of the running.

I, too, have a dream that you won’t pretend with me that freedom rings free for our black brothers and sisters because it doesn’t.

I, too, have a dream.

It’s a simple and basic dream, but like with King’s dream, it doesn’t take brain surgery to fulfill basic life responsibilities, graces and dignities.

But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.

Sincerely,

Gabriel

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

“The entire world isn’t crazy.”

“Only the ignorant are really poor.”

“Food is cooked in a pot, but the plate gets the praise.”

“Illusions are comforting; just don’t act upon them.”

“Man’s best companion is his intellect; his worst enemy is his lust.”

“When brains are needed, muscles won’t help.”

Leo Rosten’s

(Treasury of Jewish Quotations)

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Iridescent: (showing a play of colors like that of a rainbow)

The northern lights put on a display of iridescent beauty.

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Subject Matter to Consider:

Social Injustice vs. Social Etiquette

Manipulation of any Message, Content, and Context

Any Media Content

All Ignorance

Civil Disobedience

Peaceful Demonstrations

American Litter & Garbage

American Gestapo Roadblocks

Lady Bird Johnson’s Litter Campaign

“‘Nigger’ vs. ‘Niggardly’”

No, I don’t have a broken heart;

I simply like using such an expression as a literary means.

It drives the point home, doesn’t it?

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Don’t give me any bit of garbage about online Social Etiquette.

(You’re speaking to an adult over here.)

What’s mass media trying to sell this time?

Nope.

(Step back and regain some perspective.)

Now, as far as police are concerned when they read online content and become personally threatened over Freedom of Speech. (Please. Don’t be so insulting.)

The NSA Gestapo American congressional government already reads through all of our personal, private and professional emails and listens-in on our phone conversations every single day. (We shall overcome.)

The People have nothing to lose this time except to regain our Constitutional Freedoms, Rights, and Civil Liberties. (Thank you. Period.)

Since the American People aren’t afraid of our Fascist policy-driven congressional government, then, why, ought The People to be scared of what content police ends up reading online?

Please.

Nope.

Culture doesn’t work that way.

[Hello? Anybody home? Please dial into contemporary culture for a change. E.T. phone home. Ha!] Really? [Cops have time to sit around and read The People’s blogs? I want my taxes lowered.]

We’re not afraid of nothin’.

‘Cause, nobody’s got nothin’.

I hate it when mass media is illogical and filled with fear based content and rhetoric because The People are doing the best that they can with the very little that they have. Don’t you get that? (America doesn’t economically prosper all around, not like it did in the 1980’s anyway.)

America’s economically broken, garbage-filled and educationally mediocre because there’s no money to take care of America The Beautiful since most of our taxes go towards an irresponsible industrial military complex, wars, and more bloody goddamn corporate wars that kills and rapes, both, Our Daughters and Sons but not the Daughters and Sons of politicians and congressional government elected public officials, civil servants.

(I bet you a homemade pot of rice-&-beans that if Ms. Clinton or the Bush twins were at war, today, and they repeatedly got raped by our own military, then there wouldn’t be a war. Afghanistan would’ve been over as of this moment in which I write this.)

Please, no.

Please, don’t lecture us about etiquette of any type.

Shit. (The way a black person would pronounce such a word.)

Please, don’t be so condescending.

Our American families have lost so much in one decade of war. We’ve lost our beloved ones, families, friends, co-workers, neighbors. Please.

Please, don’t throw around hot air about online Social Etiquette when mass media doesn’t have any etiquette to speak of and neither does our congressional mediocre government.

Please, don’t throw around hot air about online Social Etiquette when Social Injustice is the main course to be served.

What do you think?

Do you really think that our cops are dumb-enough to fall for political stupidity?

Please, those Men and Women (police) are lucky to make thirty-thousand annual salaries in this-day-in-age while they place their lives-on-the-line for our Citizen and Civilian force that does appreciate their hard work and dedication to our villages, communities and neighborhoods. (What pathetic economics.)

Please don’t be so condescending. Our generation grew up attending the 1990’s DARE program, drug campaign (which, by the way didn’t work,) and the last thing we’re afraid of, is the cops who live among us and in our neighborhoods.

Our police are also Citizens and Civilians, and they won’t fall for some Gestapo approach; police must uphold the law by The American Constitution not by their muscles and brute force.

Our brave police won’t fall for hauling-in American Citizens and Civilians into jail just and simply because Citizens and Civilians express their hatred towards the devastating condition of our beat-up country.

Who does the media think that cops are?

Cops are our friends, family members, co-workers and neighbors even though within the past decade cops turned completely rouge with these illegally made-up unconstitutional, racially divided, segregationalists, “Stop and Frisk” laws.

Please, don’t be so daft. I’m more afraid of an oil pipeline polluting America and killing Americans than I am of any cop in America, yes, even in Los Angeles.

Yep. America got ‘licked’ by corporate CEO’s, the made-up real estate market, and a congressional government that keeps selling our land off to China and thinks it can get away with placing a pipeline, splitting America in half, and leaving every natural habitat, child, woman and man to die gruesome horrible cancerous deaths from oil spills and such. As if. (Back it up. Please don’t make for such horrible dance partners with bad breaths.)

You, do realize that The People don’t live in a bubble of fear just because they got screwed over in a bank bailout, and a lying real estate market, and some under the table congressional governmental hand-job while playing footsy with some prostitute in Columbia.

Yes, Our American Freedom of Speech does afford for Our People to be as literary crude as possible without the NSA, Homeland Security, FBI or CIA or anybody else for that matter to knock on our front doors without a proper judge’s subpoena simply because we speak hot-passionate words, or write on pieces of paper, to express the many Nationalistic passions and frustrations, that we must face with pride, anger and truth, while paying close attention to those in-between-intervals of deep thoughtful breaths.

Please.

Culture doesn’t work like that.

Culture doesn’t get assassinated or shot at, in their flats (apartments, homes without due process) simply because the government is afraid of what The People have to say through peaceful forms of expression such as writing blogs and other creative peaceful means.

Expression never killed a man.

Men kill Men.

What are the mass media representatives so afraid of?

The more The People are supposed to be afraid of everything, the less afraid; one, becomes because your little human body can only truly be afraid of so many things.

Fear’s an illness of the mind and heart that gets carried around in the bones and produces… Now, since stress is the number one killer of Americans, then, one would think that mass media would become less about sensationalism and more about information.

Humans can do information so they can assess for themselves.

What humans don’t do very well is sensationalism because then they think they’re on “fight or flight mode” all the time even if the fear is imagined and not real, the body’s chemicals still react as though a lion’s about to eat your head off. Ha! (I love logic.)

Philosophy’s for the birds.

Logic’s for the intelligent.

For example; in regards to the art of expression.

Expression’s passion filled with infinite elements of creativity.

Crudeness can fit right along within the boundaries of logic.

Having any one human sit down and express their thoughts; it’s considered passionate and any man or woman who can stand up for what they believe-in, publically, is, brave, courageous, and willing to sacrifice their private-thinking lives for the betterment of others even if the writer is considered a literary curmudgeon.

You can say anything you want however the moment any given individual, stops writing, gets up from their writing desks and throws a bomb or leaves a burning cross in anyone else’s front yard, threatening the lives, livelihoods and safety of others then game over.

Go home and wait for the police to arrive with a judge’s subpoena.

My Jewish Father informed me to never be afraid of any word and that if I was going to criticize the police force or use the word “fuck” in my writing then I better mean it and never be afraid in this land of the free to speak openly and with conviction.

My Father didn’t march in Washington D.C. for Vietnam Civil Rights and Liberties in 1968 (correction,) and got arrested by the American government, thrown in jail, so that I wouldn’t have any Civil Rights of my own, such as a Free Vote and Freedom of Speech.

I’ll write whatever the fuck I want to write.

I’ll throw around the word fuck all I want to, in the same manner that mass media throws around hot air, and, no, there’ll not be Homeland Security knocking at my front door or I’ll sue the entire government for breach in Constitutional Rights.

If I were ever to sue the government then I’d take it down on its knees because like hell, if any American Citizen or Civilian is ever going to instill fear into the hearts of other Americans about not practicing our Constitutional Rights, Liberties and Civilities when we do live in an age of so much Social Injustice and in a broken down congressional governmental system.

Get out of my way.

Get out of here.

I hold the right to write about you, the mass media, the police force, and about the word fuck all I want.

Social Etiquette.

What world does anybody live in?

The Middle Income Earning Class is getting squeezed out and you’re giving us a lecture about online Social Etiquette. What The Fuck.

No, I’m not some stupid guinea pig.

I’m an educated and intelligent, individual, private American Citizen, taking down notes, to leave behind for the future generations to read, and I shan’t deviate from that path of telling The People’s history as we’re living through it.

Who the fuck does anybody think they are?

Come down from your high and mighty horses and put this country back together.

Wake up and take a look around.

We can read between the lines, just, fine, thank you.

Sincerely,

Gabriel

P.S. Some of my best friends are police officers.

No, I shan’t be afraid of my own friends. Please.

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P.S.S. Okay. Yes, one reason as to why most of our readership continues to build up, is because this is a fiction (observations) blog and note keeping, on personal and bias opinions about the Era in which we live in. (Period. The End. Of. The. Film. Go Home. Salud!) Cheers!

This fiction blog is contemporary content.

In other words; the subject matter, in, which, I draw from my personal private Citizen’s point of view; are, global current events, happening, today; or, it’s happened within the past seven-generations, and we know people who’ve indeed met their Ancestors and spoken to them before passing into their next existence from old age.

I believe in America; because I believe in our nomadic Immigrant Ancestors, who came to this Western Hemisphere (by canoe,) The Land of The Free, to live in the Pursuit of Happiness, abiding sane & logical laws, without religious persecution or discrimination, in, which, The People govern over themselves and The People’s civil servants (elected officials) implement just, fair and precise legal information upon the inquiry, response and questions of any Democratic Systems of; Sons & Daughters, Brothers and Sisters, peacefully co-existing with the correct amount of righteous indignation looking only towards a brighter more cohesive future (like a wool quilt, scratchy yet warm) patch work, fragmented, yet cohesively understood in common function and purpose for the sake of unity; no differently than Civilized Society; Respect and Peace without Commonality or Tranquility are chaos.

Without Social Justice, there’s no such thing as Social Etiquette.

Why would there be?

One can only implement Social Etiquette when there’s Social Justice; and do you know Who contemporary “white trash” Bourgeois culture is; the ignorantly imprudent with silent abusive emotional and snide pinches which cause others to loudly scream in pain.

The contemporary “white trash” Bourgeois have only one place setting at the Societal table, not, because they’re anything special, per say, but because they harp on every little thing without any examined consideration; because they get moderately educated just enough to take positions as managers in their fields however they judge the world only according to themselves and thus they draw short and often incorrect conclusions about others lives and the world around them.

Hanging out with Bourgeois, leaves a horrible taste in one’s mouth each and every time. (Ha!) Oh, dumb luck for the contemporary Bourgeois as the Middle Income Earning Class gets all stretched out and torn to bits and pieces while “supposed nouveau riche, Bourgeois, Society” whips those horses.

The contemporary Nouveau Riche and the Bourgeois aren’t any type of Society and because of this reason, alone, they, neither, know their responsibilities as Leaders, nor do they rise to the occasion because they’ll not be fully accepted by Society except as for the trash that they truly are in terms of societal standards, and they know it. Once they’re discovered for the brutes, ignoramuses and bullies that they are then they get de-throne, and must stand with the rest of us humans in the struggle for Social Justice.

The Bourgeois don’t have any real money or class to speak of. They most likely won’t until… simply the Bourgeois’ job in life is to teach us, all, about the patience of quiet rage, gender inequality and quiet desperation.

A culture can’t have it both ways; hypocrisy and double standards.

Our Era is either happening to us or it isn’t.

History is black and white like typing is.

Either life is all about making a buck or contributing to a better Nation.

Long ago I chose to contribute because I’m a Nationalist Patriot.

I stand for something, damn it.

I stand for all of our American children to become well educated under a Taxpaying Democratic Public System.

I believe in infrastructure well kept, season-after-season.

I believe in the Freedom of the Vote.

This, ESL writing practice is my Civil Disobedience and no one’s going to take it away from me because like your Ancestors before you; my Ancestors before me, fought for the Freedom of Spoken Language and Literary Language. This is my birth-skin right. (As sure as I was born buck-naked; thus, I came into this world; thus, I shall return.)

Yes, I look forward to professional novel and screen writing when I begin to write plotlines.

No, I’m not even close to a great writer.

You’re looking at literary gravy and potatoes.

This is intellectual blue collar, spiritual peasant writing.

Someday, soon I’ll write about how the Theological essence of writing is so sacred to the Maya. Writing’s prayers of all types. Writing’s our connection to the past and our hopes for the future. Don’t you know silly rabbit? To write is to send out prayers to the Gods, according to the Maya.

Do you understand what I’m writing about because it’s clear as night and day when I write logical thoughts, otherwise “chuck-it-up” to something mediocre and subpar? However I don’t think so. I put a great deal of thought and reason into my writing. (Back it up.) Sometimes, mediocrity happens when on the journey towards further practice to mastery.

I write with purpose to implement some type of moral and hopefully happy ending to life’s political decorum and cultural ‘smokin’ mirrors’. (Ha! From reading New York Times articles that’s where I’ve come to learn the correct placement of quotations and parenthesis because the grammatical rules to quotation and parenthesis just didn’t make sense to me as an ESL adult and the rules never did make much sense when I was a teenager, either. Ha! Now that’s funny. I’m learning to place quotation and parenthesis correctly more by the context of the articles than by the rules.) Life’s remarkable!

August 23, 2013

Aloha!

Happy Friday!

No blog.

August 22, 2013

“If I am like someone else, who will be like me?”

Leo Rosten’s

(Treasury of Jewish Quotations)

--- --- ---

Primeval: (belonging to first ages, primitive)

The primeval forest has been placed under government control.

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No, I don’t really believe that Americans are idiots.

Yes, I do believe that Americans have idiotic tendencies.

The Modern American Quiet Desperation

Yes, I’ll slow down when driving through the Bryn Mawr neighborhood because I’m not desperate to die only distracted with many thoughts about many subject matter coming at me for solutions. Thank you for the reminder.

Today I took a corner a bit too fast as a clueless, Caucasian, mid-fifties female pedestrian jumped into the middle of the street to nonchalantly cross, while, ahead of me, a tan SUV promptly stopped without a signal and I swerved the pedestrian on my left (half way into the middle of the street) and the SUV on my right (in the middle of the street as well.) Did I write that enough times? Okay.

The situation was insane for sure. It took my breath away and I thought: ‘These arrogant little people just won’t learn physics.’

In the middle of all that insanity, just as I swerved both the pedestrian and the SUV, a Caucasian man held out his left arm and hand, up in the air and the act was pure ballet.

I understood his signal for me to slow down yet I kept at the speed limit of 30 MPH. I wasn’t about to slow down and get caught up in the insanity of others. Nope.

However I did make a mental note to choose a new route and not drive through the garbage filled streets of Bryn Mawr with pedestrians who jump out in front of two-and-four ton vehicles because some idiotic Minneapolis law assures its civilians that type of legal lunacy that pedestrians have the right-of-way over two-and-four ton vehicles. WHAT. WTF.

It makes me laugh each time I consider such terrible logic. People sure are dumb to say the least.

No, I’m not complaining.

I’ll change my route so that I don’t have to deal with the garbage, insanity and misconduct of others. There are much better places in the world to travel through and be safe than neighborhoods filled with insanity, and I do mean insanity.

There are only two major points that I’d like to make in this essay: 1) Americans live under the illusion that all laws will keep them safe all of the time. 2) When laws have horrible logic in them then they’re no good to anyone.

I’d like to think that the Twin Cities are an environment, a destination and a place in which our people are urban savvy, metropolitan chic and culturally sophisticated however this doesn’t always prove correct.

To see people walking around in practically their underwear, screaming at the top of their lungs or throwing garbage around is to travel amongst desperate peoples and lunacy. (Please don’t get rid of the “middle class”.)

I hate living in America because it’s a dirty little country:

How is it a dirty little country?

Two aspects of life that American parents must contend with: either, at one point or another: their children will end up getting seduced by one teacher or another in their academic careers or do drugs with their teachers. (Yikes.)

When I learned of this American phenomenon, my heart almost broke.

What a messy and dirty little fucking country. (No, I don’t feel angry right about now as I write but the word “fuck” really does drive the point home, doesn’t it?) (My writing professors are so proud of the work I produce each and every single day and that’s all that matters.)

What are the main points that I want to drive home?

I want you to understand perfectly well that Americans don’t get enough attention so they have to go, look for it, and find it anyway they can.

The more an American pushes one’s buttons, is blatantly rude, or gets under your skin, they do it because they’re desperate for attention, and when this happens they’ll go at great lengths to get attention. (Pathetic to say the least however.)

Attention seeking is the main reason as to why Americans aren’t civilized. They want so much attention without standards or responsibility for their own actions and that’s just not so, not in any other civilized Nations, not there, anyway.

Americans aren’t even hicks anymore.

The greatest secret to any hick is that he can speak proper English in a matter of seconds and their Peoples can set the table for a King, as well as dine with royalty and that’s what America lacks, a certain, I don’t know what.

I can’t stand American children; because I’ve watched many litter, scream and become stupidly indignant knowing perfectly well that they shouldn’t go around looking for fights.

I hate that many American children are brought up to believe that the entire world is their playground, when in actuality the world is a serious and adult atmosphere for the most part. I’ve had children almost knock me over, and proceed without so much as an “excuse me”. (If that isn’t uncivilized then I don’t know what is?)

Why don’t American parents teach their children that it’s uncivilized and rude to run and yell indoors?

Why do American pedestrians protest to throw themselves in front of moving vehicles?

Why do Americans have such a morbid sense of safety?

Children in other countries don’t have that type of American desperation as to be noticed anywhere their parents take them, and children in other more sophisticated Nations other than America, wouldn’t even consider to run through lobbies and anywhere indoors for that matter. Only animals do that. No. Absolutely not.

Business is conducted amongst such civilized establishments and adults have a million and one responsibilities to get done throughout their days without having children run into them and not apologize for their barn behavior.

Adults in far more sophisticated countries other than the United States of America don’t jump out in front of moving traffic simply because a moronic city law indicates some form of unsafe and illusionary means.

It’s erratic and insane behavior to jump out in front of moving traffic at 30 MPH just because the law guarantees one a right-of-way.

What the fuck? The right-of-way. You. Or. A two-ton car? No way. Life in America is full of lunacy and people just go along with it because the law grants them the right-of-way but that doesn’t guarantee pedestrians their lives. If a pedestrian gets killed by a moving vehicle than that means: game over. No amount of rage, money or grief is ever going to bring a pedestrian idiot back from the grave.

Yes, I drive defensively as I was taught to do so in Boston.

Sincerely,

Gabriel

P.S. Oh, my brain must be in the gutter. Of course, corrections, it wasn’t breasts, it was calves for cantaloupe. Ha!

August 21, 2013

“He who comes first grinds first.”

Leo Rosten’s

(Treasury of Jewish Quotations)

--- --- ---

Apathetic: (indifferent, unconcerned, unemotional)

It is difficult to arouse the interest of an apathetic student.

--- --- ---

Please don’t feed me anymore hypocrisy.

Thank you, no.

I’m quite full.

I’ve had enough.

No, America as a Nation can’t brag about how we’re the best thing since sliced apple pie and not walk-the-walk. Nope.

No one can intelligently argue or debate, with any sensible type of logic that America’s the best Nation on earth when our congressional government doesn’t financially support Head Start, Meals on Wheels for our elderly, WIC, free and subsidized healthy lunch programs for all children, teens and youth across America, minimum wage comparable to that of annual inflation and a governmental bailout necessary for public programs which The People already pay taxes (towards those already established subsidized government programs.)

The list goes on and on.

I won’t bore you with the details.

The cherry on top: Americans live amongst garbage because Americans must feel a deep desperation and it shows it on our streets.

What I can’t understand is this: why contemporary Americans buckle under societal pressure, economical class distinctions and income inequality?

I thought that the entire point of being American was that not only did we take pride in taking care of our States and Nation but also, that we weren’t India’s caste system or Britain’s class system that fails its citizens on the most fundamental levels of humanity.

It’s no longer good enough for our American culture to teach “fame and fortune” but then leave its citizens with a bunch of shattered dreams because the truth is: that climbing to the summit of the mountain has nothing to do with Leadership but rather with morons who make rotten decisions about subject matters they know nothing about because they're too lazy to read or consider anything other than their boy-crazy obsessions or if their asses look great in certain pants. Crazy, to say the least.

Americans have become, and are crazy shallow, and that’s why they self-loath because nothing much fulfills them, not even...

What a lame duck to go after something as superficial as fame and fortune but then become completely and totally self-serving, nepotistic, apathetic and self-centered about a global community who doesn’t support or agree with many of America’s foreign and domestic policies and procedures.

No, America can no longer afford to be a hypocrite. Not culturally or otherwise because then we might as well become a third world nation and shut up about how our asses look better in skinny jeans. Please. America’s a culture of ‘retards.’

No wonder our Leaderless cowards in positions of power neglect their responsibilities because it’s too hard to look beyond our selves when Americans starve for a cultural soul.

It seems as though the motto is this: “As long as we eat and everybody else starves, what does it matter, let them eat cake.”

No, I have no respect for talentless hacks, and Leaderless cowards, or brutes for that matter because the human brain has more intelligence than that.

Yes, I have respect for those who live for a better tomorrow, those who continuously strive for excellence in communication especially in the middle of miscommunication, those who can forgive and not forget, those who are inclusive rather than exclusive, those who understand the subtleties of complexities, those who celebrate life and rejoice to be alive because sometimes life deals a tough and detrimental hand.

Life’s hard enough as it is without giving into American desperation. Americans like to take others down with them. Americans like to kick those who strive for anything other than mediocrity. America is mediocre.

Americans seem to think that they can hide their mediocrity but it’s right there in plain view for all to see, especially those who make a lot of money and don’t have a social conscience, (principles.) Nobody’s poker face is that good. Desperation of all varieties is desperation and it exudes from people’s body odor.

What I don’t seem to understand about contemporary Americans is why so much desperation?

I don’t mean to be condescending however just five generations ago weren’t our ancestors living in the dust bowl without a pot to piss in?

Sincerely,

Gabriel

P.S. I heard a blurb: what’s this: skinny, one-hundred pound, valedictorian Mexicans with calves the size of cantaloupes carrying seventy-five pounds of marijuana across the desert? Ha! That’s hilarious.

I saw a little flicker of a film run across my mind’s eye.

First of all, if, one-hundred pound, valedictorians with cantaloupe size calves were carrying seventy-five pounds of pot across the desert then most likely those poor immigrants would get crushed under all that heavy weight.

Second, I mean isn’t seventy-five pounds out of one-hundred pounds something like seventy-five percent of that human’s body weight?

Third, most immigrants crossing the border by foot don’t have much water or food on them, so that would mean that a one-hundred pound person would carry seventy-five pounds of extra weight and somehow survive without food or water? Where’s the logic in that? Stupid.

Fourth, oh, fun!

It’s like an SAT question: If a one-hundred pound, Mexican valedictorian human with cantaloupe calves were to travel across the desert between Mexico and the United States border, carrying seventy-five pounds of marijuana then how long do you expect them to live?

A) 24 hours

B) 48 hours

C) 72 hours

D) 92 hours

Gosh, Americans sure are stupid. Duh!

Second SAT question:

If a one-hundred pound, Mexican valedictorian with calves the size of cantaloupes were to cross the desert with seventy-five pounds of marijuana then how much would their calves weigh?

A) One pound

B) Two pounds

C) Three pounds

D) Four pounds

Ha! Ha! Ha!

I could write a modern SAT test for America.

August 20, 2013

“The best morsels are given to the worst dogs.”

Leo Rosten’s

(Treasury of Jewish Quotations)

--- --- ---

Consanguinity: (blood relationship, close relationship)

Brothers are bound by ties of consanguinity.

--- --- ---

Today I don’t have any specific lesson plan or subject matter to write about because I have to go through my literary books and draw from that otherwise I simply like to write about what I observe in a daily life because so much happens in one single day.

Let’s all take a deep breath.

First, it’s not that I simply run out of material to write about because life’s too full of action not to write every single day. Writing’s like drawing or oil painting, water colors; one doesn’t run out of material because the entire world’s out there to be captured with one single stroke of the paint brush.

Second, at this point in my life I’d love to write about our pooch. Just this weekend we discovered a variety of establishments where one can take one’s pooch to eateries and that’s most exciting because we were starting to believe that we’d never go out for posh cocktails (blueberry martinis) and oysters ever again.

The list of restaurants in which one may frequent with one’s pooch is extensive and impressive being that some Minnesota Statute Law doesn’t permit for any dog owner to ever leave one’s pooch unattended while in public (I’ll blog about that law later.)

Third, I could write extensively about Bryn Mawr (a Minneapolis neighborhood or the Ivy League as well) however.

Let’s stick to the neighborhood at hand.

I consider the Bryn Mawr neighborhood exquisite in the sense that it has an original vibe, petite and classy little store fronts and kick ass iced, mint flavored, almond milk, single shot mochas. (I’ve fallen in love with whip cream as of four bottles ago.)

I could write about, how as of late, within the past week or so there’s been considerable amount of garbage blown into the Bryn Mawr neighborhood and there’s been little to no effort in the clean up. Why is that?

(No, I’m not going out of my way to clean up the streets of Bryn Mawr and pick-up garbage because I already do pick up garbage around our neighborhood and in front of our yard on a weekly basis.)

(Yes, on our Uptown block (our former neighborhood) I used to pick up about two bags of garbage per spring, for six years.)

(No, as a matter of fact, I don’t need a medal.)

(No, I didn’t care who saw me pick up garbage with rubber gloves up to my elbows, that’s why I paid a lot of money to go to private schools, to take the initiative and Leadership no matter how small a gesture in contribution to our neighborhoods and communities picking up garbage may seem.)

I put my money where my mouth is.

I guess that I care more than I ought to.

I’ve traveled to beautiful places around the globe in which it’s close to impossible to find one piece of garbage and the people have less than we do here in America.

I’m neither complacent nor cynical about American garbage.

I realize that Americans like living in garbage. It doesn’t much bother them and if it does then they hardly ever do anything about it except complain.

I consider Venice far more advanced than America even though something smells rotten in Venice.

When I’ve travelled the glorious streets of Venice I’ve understood the tremendous history and toil that’s taken to make Venice what it is.

I’ve considered all of the Masters that have come before us and the quality of life that they’ve lead hidden away amongst those canals and narrow streets.

Aside from the fact that Venice is sinking into the ocean, the splendor, and view is breathtaking. What’s more remarkable is that the people of Venice take great pride and delight in picking up their garbage and that makes them cultural Masters of the Age.

No, I don’t like living in America.

Yes, I’ve already written about that.

I do consider as to where we’ll retire. I dream of all of the incredible places we could retire where people aren’t so uptight about everything, they aren’t careless, harmful and full of melodrama.

I consider garbage melodramatic, to say the least.

When you think about garbage blowing across America it’s like watching a ballerina take a bowel movement on stage and continue with her routine as though nothing’s happened to the culture at large and how her majestic grand gesture changed the world for the worse.

It’s the weirdest thing to say the least.

Bad logic makes horrible leaders.

Recently I visited Lady Bird Johnson’s town and re-read about her litter campaign. How correct she was to get the next generation to consider the effects of litter.

I do believe, that, psychologically, litter does affect our Nation’s cultural wellbeing.

I do think that there’s a lot to be said for those countries in which we’re to believe that America’s the greatest country on earth, which it’s not.

No, I’m not dogging America.

Yes, I love America.

I simply don’t like living in America.

There’s a huge distinction there.

I want to believe that this country can get its head out of its ass and put the heroin, cocaine and meth down for just one moment, look around and contribute to this America the beautiful.

No, I don’t know how to motivate a Nation full of cynics, bad television, bad breath, horrible selfishness, and vanity to understand that when we, as Americans, live amongst garbage, then we become, what we are.

I keep getting informed by cultural experts that, one of the many reasons as to why America’s in the dumps, is because Generation X was brought up in an era of 1980’s television.

We are the generation who got babysat in front of the boob tube (I didn’t get here until 1987) and since no one cared if we lived-or-died as an entire generation, our contemporaries, could only explore one possibility and that was to get ahead by all means necessary even if it meant doing the immoral Leaderless decisions, always.

We’re a generation that considers anything as far as our noses extend and that’s about it. A generation of D-list pop-stars and mediocre corporate managers without any original thoughts inside their small brains except sheer brute force against others.

We’re a generation that believes that if we become rich and famous then we’ll be loved. How false. How pathetic indeed. Don’t you know little rabbit that the more one succeeds then the more one’s best-friends will hate you even when they lie to your face?

A shallow generation, but one willing to work just hard enough to take food from someone else’s mouth, or to get someone else demoted, or fired.

We’re that type of generation.

The type that hates anyone with any real talent, kindness and intelligence because secretly as a generation we haven’t put anything down in the history books worth consideration.

A generation of talentless hacks who pass off the hard work on others only because they pretend to mandate but really they’re just idiotic good for nothing managers and everybody knows it.

A generation full of hacks who believe they can disguise their inadequacies if they scream a little louder or if they act tougher than they really look.

A poser generation of Leaderless cowards.

Finally, I think that Bryn Mawr could give the Seward Café a run for its money with talent, culture and industry.

My favorite aspect about the Bryn Mawr neighborhood is that it’s full of real and raw originality and the people, there, shower. Wow!

Bryn Mawr actually has real and beautiful people who are gentle with each other and don’t have to outdo each other with stupid hairdos or some such weird tattoos that look like spilled ink or smudges.

Last week, in the Bryn Mawr neighborhood, I saw a most beautiful petite young woman with long flowing brown hair on her bicycle, she was stopped at a green light, surrounded by garbage. At first the sight took my breath away and then…

…I could barely hold my laughter, but I did, anyway, and put on a frown, instead, because if I would’ve started laughing then I would’ve given her a real complex for the rest of her life without knowing why.

I can afford to be a snob.

Oh, yes indeed.

No, I don’t have anything to lose in the sense that I’ve lost everything in the past and made it out alive. You wouldn’t have lasted for a single moment with the cards I got dealt in my adult youth. Please. Have some respect for our neighborhood and communities. Sequester. Whatever.

No, I don’t have anything to lose because in my mid-thirties my health and car insurance are the best in the world and that means that if I wanted to I could pull a...

No, I’m not prissy.

You’d be surprised to find out.

Sincerely,

Gabriel

August 19, 2013

Aloha!

Happy Monday!

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Time: 6:45P.M.

What tremendous dusk light.

“God looks into our hearts before he looks into our minds.”

Leo Rosten’s

(Treasury of Jewish Quotations)

--- --- ---

Rectitude: (rightness, correct of judgment, goodness)

He is well known for his rectitude.

--- --- ---

Music

I don’t care to get too shallow on anybody however.

I’m exhausted…

It was a hell week to say the least.

I can’t help but be anything other than human so here goes nothing hopefully I won’t stumble too much on the road to the subject matter about music since I know nothing about music, I can’t even keep a four-count.

What do I know?

Nothing.

I love to discuss music theory nevertheless with those who read music and also have played any instruments as most Americans have before music education was cut from public school curriculums in the early thousands (2000’s). Pity.

(What a damn shame.) (Don’t give me that look. Adults know better than to implement mediocre programs into the very soul of our American quilt. Americans will do better by the following seven generations because we owe them thus much. There’s nothing more to it.)

Civilization doesn’t progress forward without adult musicians.

Adult musicians don’t progress forward without poetry; or verse would become nothing but a mere joke and that would be a great and real Shakespearean tragedy. (Forgive me, poetry wants to jump out of my lap like a snob and I can’t help but laugh. It’s simply too funny. Magnifique.)

Aside from all of the technicalities…

There’s something deeply poetic about writing music.

I think that it’s easy to get lost in the writing of anything however and ultimately life takes a front burner and precedence.

Life, too, has a rhythm here on Sugar Plumb Lane.

I find that there’s a season for everything.

As of late, the music I’ve been writing inside my head is one of dark earth tones, deep-purple browns, mustard oranges and lip-red drenched with musical intonations of dead leaves, a chill in the air, fall sports, and Halloween, and Thanksgiving just around the corner.

No, I don’t see any colors when I hear music.

No, I don’t see any colors when I think about writing notes on sheet music.

No, I don’t see any colors when I picture notes inside my mind’s eye.

Nope.

No, I don’t see colors; however, the cadence and reverberations of those deep notes I see behind my mind’s eye and what I hear in a syllabic notation is that of a deep sense of earth love, birth and preparing ahead for a long winter’s season.

The music I hear inside my mind’s ear is one of epiphanies when one single human realizes how loved they are by any other human and the entire world of galaxies opens up inside their chests and light comes out exuding complete confidence, awareness and totally at ease with life. (If you will, please amuse me with all of this poetic nonsense. Correct. Nope. Wrong again.)

The American fall season reminds me of new beginnings when everything’s about to turn colors and die for the winter.

Winter season to me is refreshing and I’ve yet to score a musical piece for the season even though here in the Northern Tundra it’s considered a season of death. How triste.

I live for falls (Sept.-Nov.) and that’s the only reason I reside in a place in which there is more than two seasons. Although in my adulthood I’ve spent more than several seasons in monsoon and that too has its incredibly romantic, quiet and calm moments in the middle of showering storms for months at a time and dangerous mudslides. (That monsoon experience in of itself is a totally different type of musical score than from the one I hear in the fall or winter because monsoons have their own vibe and rhythm.)

No, I don’t decorate anything inside the house because I’m not like that but I simply carry around the fall season and those festivities close to my heart. (Yes, I cook every single day of our lives and bake every other day (correction according to Eric) so for me, the fall season is a continuation of my culinary skills, refinement and sophistication.)

I come alive in the fall.

I want to see the world at that time which it can influence me to listen, learn and if I feel like it then I might dance however as of late there’s been no dancing.

I’ve spoken to many different types of people who play all sorts of instruments and many of them speak about how writing is considered a low-form of artistic disciplinary in the musical arts. As if.

I used to get insulted by these idealisms about the heroics of art.

Now, I just want to sit very still and throw my head back and laugh whole heartedly at the stupidity of such statements. (Oh, conversations get juicier, to say the least, as I get older.)

I’ve not brought myself to correct any other adult because I’m not in the habit of correcting others unless someone thinks they can pull a fast one on me, and, in that case I simply give such a sort enough rope to hang themselves not because I’m being cruel but because they are.

To think, believe and preach that poetry is idiotic, small, beneath humanity is to believe that astronomy means nothing to mankind.

At first, such arguments took my breath away and I became inwardly indignant however I soon got over it and now I laugh a good belly laugh because bad logic sure is more like getting a bucket of water thrown at and reacting accordingly and, then having fun with the sheer stupidity of it all. Ha! (More poetry. What’s happened to me on this dusk evening? Could it be that I believe in…)

More later…

With Best Regards;

Gabriel

August 16, 2013

“Innocence goes with peacefulness.”

Leo Rosten’s

(Treasury of Jewish Quotations)

--- --- ---

Recreant: (unfaithful, disloyal, cowardly)

The recreant soldier was captured and court-martialed.

--- --- ---

Aloha!

Happy Friday!

August 15, 2013

“Some things are clever only the first time.”

Leo Rosten’s

(Treasury of Jewish Quotations)

--- --- ---

Redundant: (excessive, unnecessary, wordy)

A redundant expression in a composition was pointed out by the teacher.

--- --- ---

Aloha!

Happy Thursday!

Hello, so much life happens in one single day.

No blog.

I’m exhausted.

The day got away from me…

I’ll make up the blog time somewhere else.

--- --- ---

Correction: Yes, of course I know the difference between the streets of Vienna and Salzburg. (I’ve gotten lost in both cities many times. Oh, those August Classical Music Festivals are divine.) Thank you.

Sincerely,

Gabriel

“Goodnight Moon.”

P.S. What’s the red and white flag? Is that Denmark?

Denmark keeps popping up in my life throughout these past twenty-five years. What gives? Sometime, I’ll write about sailing the Atlantic Ocean with the Danish. I’ve got a great deal of respect for the Danish.

In the month of July 2013 I wrote about my former ESL classmate who was indeed and in fact a student from Denmark, not from Norway or Sweden.

I’m terribly sorry I get the Scandinavian flags all mixed up.

I’ve shared close quarters, broken bread and held some of my closest friendships with the Danish. We respect each other.

August 14, 2013

“To be in the company of a wise man is like going into a perfumery: you may not buy a thing, but the sweet scent will cling to you for a day.”

Leo Rosten’s

(Treasury of Jewish Quotations)

--- --- ---

Agglomeration: (a massing together, a cluster, clump)

He found an agglomeration of material hard to describe.

--- --- ---

“Space Age Love Song”

By

A Flock of Seagulls

(Sym-Bionic Titan)

--- --- ---

Part IX

The President of the United States of America

A Potential Government Shutdown

Draconian Laws & Economics

American Police Brutality

“Stop and Frisk” made-up policy

Police Cameras & A Referendum Vote

War Veterans

Military Rape

Guantanamo Bay

Marijuana, Alcohol, and Firearms, and Addiction

Incarceration System

African Americans

Walls Street

The Real Estate Market

Aliens

War Journalism

Cairo, Egypt

Russia

The Olympics

Whatever happened to Syria?

Lebanon

Yemen

9/11 Tribute

Peace and War Times

Yes, of course happy belated Birthday to the President of the United States of America, Mr. Barack Obama. Hip! Hip! Hooray! (No, I’ll not be singing a breathy Marilyn Monroe rendition of Happy Birthday.) Ha!

There’re so many topics I ought to write about however.

What more is there to be said?

Nothing.

Most anything I’d like to write about tonite is far, too, controversial… and it’s far, too, late for me to begin to make sense out of anything denser than a fruit fly.

I like discovery for so many reasons.

Curiosity is fine however there’s something richer and more fulfilling to discovery such as innovation.

Since 1996, I’ve given the American electrical grid system quite a bit of consideration.

No, I’m not an electrical engineer.

Yes, I’m a conceptual engineer, and I greatly understand the implications of social and urban engineering however and more precisely my job as an analyst is to determine what structures need to be reconfigured to advance Civilization forward within massive strides without collapsing any self-sustaining foundations.

Mathematics is all about linguistic outcomes, theorems and definitions.

Now, the first time that I meandered and got lost upon the streets of Salzburg not only did I feel completely and totally safe as a tourist but also I could see the night sky without stumbling along public paths because evenly spaced out lights at about knee height LED’s lit passage ways and I was delighted to simultaneously see where I was and the night sky.

The entire lighting layout took my breath away.

Walking around lost amongst the locals in the city of Salzburg is like an ice cream cone dream, candy and a delicious film set, real, but not quite yet spectacular.

The magnificent beauty of Salzburg’s architecture is enough to move the soul as well as the haunting classical music and the aesthetics of European living.

My soul quieted right down and I thought; ‘I better get on a plane or I may never leave here again.’

Au Contraire.

I left.

I got on a plane, and to this day I have much to consider.

No, I’m not any type of Tesla.

Tesla was a genius.

I’m a mortal human woman.

I’ll perish.

I like discovery for so many reasons.

Curiosity’s for the monkeys.

Discovery takes elbow grease.

I’d like to think that anyone who’s deeply involved into learning anything at all, especially (when it’s not in their field of expertise) that they can only contribute where others have and continue to add to the overall development of Civilization as we know it.

There’s something to discovery which leads to the virtuous road of innovation and advancement.

There’s much lacking in curiosity for the sake of it.

I truly had grandiose expectations about the year 2013.

I thought that by now America would be fully equipped with free public Wi-Fi, fiber optics internet, free public computer stalls on the streets for checking online information, placing calls, anyplace, anytime.

I seriously thought that by now America’s trains, light rail and subway systems would equal in value and significance to those of Europe’s.

For some reason I had it in my head that wooden posts and wires would’ve been buried or disappeared all completely from view by now, nearly sixty years after they were implemented.

I guess that I thought America would look a bit more like Epcot Center than Gary Indiana, north Minneapolis, the Bronx, Brooklyn or Worcester, and Hartford.

I don’t just want to be curious about the world for the sake of it.

I’d like to see discovery, innovation and decisive implementation of incredible ideas and human-friendly concepts that will “steal the show” and catapult the Americans onto the world stage as Leaders of technology, high-quality and standard of living, ease and comfort for all those innovative thinkers to continue forth while in the Pursuit of Happiness. Cheers!

I’ve got ideas about the American electrical grid system.

But what do I know?

I’m some dead, modern Maya, anyway, who still prays to rain Gods.

At home.

Home, home.

In the jungle.

There’s no electrical system of any type.

Normally at sunset, when I leave the shark infested waters, I have to hurry not be left in the complete dark of night.

At home, I can’t even see my hand in front of my face.

It’s that dark at night time.

No joke.

Most of the world’s like that.

Dark, quiet and peaceful.

Peace.

Best Regards,

Gabriel

P.S. From “haunt” as in spooky to “hunt” as in foxes.

P.S. A friend tells me that most of the houses on Summit Avenue in St. Paul are completely rotting-out from the inside but they look great on the outside.

I met a friend on Summit today and inspected a layout. It was fabulous while another friend gave a private tour of his recording building.

I love old buildings. I’ve been in love with architecture ever since I had to build a volcano in Earth Science. Life just got away from me. So much happened today.

P.S. Oh, yeah! We learned to never place our doggie inside a dog-crate because he hurts himself while he escapes and chews on anything he can find, primarily shoes and such items. He’s a keeper for life but what a learning curve for our entire family. We’re breathing and getting along no matter what. Objects are only objects and that’s my motto.

What a day!

Our dog has chewed through so much throughout our home. I never knew that one little doggie could cost hundreds upon hundreds of dollars especially one with separation anxiety. I’m exhausted.

Farmers Market tomorrow and then the Country Fair. Cheers!

August 13, 2013

“Serious”

By

Daryl

(Sym-Bionic Titan)

Part IX

The President of the United States of America

Best Regards,

Gabriel

Life takes precedence.

Two summers ago (2011) a male friend wrote down an address on a piece of paper, tore it and confidently placed it inside one of my journals. I forgot about it until today. Face-to-face he said to me: “‘…’”

He’s got me on a hunt (correction) to find one of the buildings he owns and I can’t make heads or tails out of it. I’ve got to force myself to look at a map, study it and memorize it.

I asked two ladies for directions and they ever so graciously gave precise directions and I followed them as best as I could.

Four blocks over I stopped and asked three Sheriffs (one woman and two men) for directions and they told me exactly where to go. (I almost burst into laughter to discover as to where I was. My former stomping grounds.)

The last time I went looking for friends’ buildings I was honored to be given a tour of a private, indoor skateboard park inside the loveliest space.

The beautiful space took my breath away.

When I entered, I removed my flip flops more so in reverence to the space than to the emotionally-mature and handsome man who pretended not to intensely stare at me, out of the corner of his eye (while he fixed my skateboard’s baring) with complete intrigue for any slight and subtle communication between us; (I gave nothing away except that I fell in love with the space and we knew that…easily, I could write a novel there and be left alone without getting in the way of life in general as it progresses. Within seven city blocks I’d like to sit and write two novels in about a decade.)

I lied to this man and he knew it better than I did: (He knew that I had lived in close quarters and amongst the Russians and Japanese and that’s why he understood my gesture of removing my flip flops, and like hell, he didn’t believe anything about the welding career and we both knew it to be a lie in that I’m any more a professional welder than a doctor is a Zoo keeper) (2010.)

I told him that I welded for a living (which isn’t true) because if I would’ve told him that I was a filmmaker, and a real one, and actually lived a life of intellectual blue collar work then he wouldn’t have believed me and that gets tiresome in the Twin Cities --at least I didn’t tell him that I was a dishwasher like I do with every other person (I happen to meet by coincidence amongst acquaintances) who can’t seem to understand how a woman of color can make a living at fiscally invested filmmaking and produced content. I know, I know. Impossible. Right? Whatever.

--- --- ---

P.S. So much great theater downtown.

I’ve got another seven or so years until I’m done with my personal boycott of all theatre in the Twin Cities area. Cheers! I can’t wait to see theatre once again. I miss it.

Oh, how I would’ve loved to have seen Pride and Prejudice at the Guthrie. Alas. My friends work on those sets year in and year out. I may break my personal boycott for an incredible rendition of the Nutcracker anywhere in the world. I mean it. I’ve got the Nutcracker deep in my bones as of late. I don’t know what it is but July makes me think of Christmas. Ha!

August 12, 2013

Aloha!

Happy studying!

What can I say?

Life takes precedence.

(No, I don’t, personally, quilt or garden.)

I deconstruct, analyze, innovate and prosper.

Cheers.

August 9, 2013

Aloha!

Happy Friday!

What can I say?

Steak fry.

August 8, 2013

“When he was a puppy I fed him, and when he became a dog he bit me.”

Leo Rosten’s

(Treasury of Jewish Quotations)

--- --- ---

Teem: (overflow, abound, swarm)

The pages of the book seemed to teem with new ideas.

--- --- ---

Part VIII

The President of the United States of America

No, I don’t want to address the subject matter about the Afghanistan War…

Governmental Food Subsidy Programs

I’m sorry did I hear you correctly say that ‘WIC’ (‘Women Infants Children’) (a government food subsidy program) has had its budget slashed due to “Sequester Cuts”?

What the hell’s ‘sequestration,’ anyway?

Sequestration by Definition: Sequestration (in law) is the act of removing, separating, or seizing anything from the possession of its owner under process of law for the benefit of creditors or the state.

Upon what grounds?

Okay; shall we play chess? (And if there’s something that I don’t know about the subject matter of governing then I’m simply ignorant nevertheless if I find incorrect information then I’ll make corrections. Thanks.)

Let’s just hypothetically for one moment say: that for the benefit of the state; the state would remove, separate or seize anything from the possession of its owner under process of law for the benefit of creditors.

Okay, what then?

The state then manipulates some type of budget into separate pieces of a pie and divides the pie chart into as many budgets as there are (from the most pressing financial state matter to the least pressing matter at hand.)

Now, does that, then mean, that, because of a bogus legal law such as sequestration then congressional governing will collect from the piece of the pie in which the People expect to eat and straight-out-of the People’s mouths into the fat mouth of the military industrial budget? (I got it right. I know I did because it’s been explained to me by all sorts of experts.)

Checkmate in two moves.

Shall we continue with the inevitable?

Let’s do.

I don’t think that either a sequestration law or the debt ceiling law ought to be two topics of empty debate as subject matter in congressional government and I’ll tell you why: because there’s no need for it.

An implemented sequestration law is a band-aid to the Americans’ dilemmas, complexities and challenges that demand to be debated upon both the senate or house floors for the benefit of The People and not creditors or the state.

In other words: to subtract funds away from governmental food subsidy programs to cover up the damage of not being able to cover the bill let alone the tip is like being a cheap, lazy-minded and stupid leader who closes their eyes and simply hopes that the chips fall where they may. No! Absolutely not.

Our political figures and public servants don’t gamble with the well being and the starvation of its People. Not by any means. Not by a long shot.

{To be granted governance over any Peoples is to be granted the permission to make the wisest decisions indivisible for all because once one, begins to slice, at any piece of the pie, then it means, that the dining patron must be able to pay for each piece of pie, when the bill comes, and not ‘chuck it up’ to the creditors to remove, separate or seize anything from the possession of its owner simply because the state can’t afford couture dining while the starved watch the state eat a stolen five-star meal dressed in rented tuxedos.}

Checkmate; your move.

What more is there to be said except that there’s a ‘debt ceiling law’ in place to cut off the excessive budgetary expenditures by the state and to live modestly within its means necessary instead of carelessly either borrowing or spending on privately contracted ‘shoddy’ work that fails the Citizens and Civilians in any field of expertise, enterprise, market or industry, governance.

No, I’m not getting ahead of myself.

What I mean to interpret: as an example, is that there’re enough funds to operate the United States of America’s Postal Offices ‘without a financial hitch’ however congressional government hasn’t the quality of human bodies in the form of Leadership to lead their horses to safe and clean financial drinking water without a gang-chain of innocent starved Citizens and Civilians trailing behind, barefoot, through Russian winters.

America isn’t a communist system and neither ought to be our laws in which if the state is short on funds then its creditors can take away from already established publically implemented subsidy programs to ensure the survival of our People.

In other words: America doesn’t balance its public funding by taking away from more substantial funds and implementing from one to another, simply because the state hasn’t made wise and sound fiscal decisions about their fiscal spending, debt or budgets. No. It’s lazy to even consider it. It’s unwise.

America doesn’t treat fiscal governance as some communist manifesto because everybody knows that communism only works in theory and practically people still starve and Russian Presidents and their cabinets force their hand against the Russian People’s Vote.

Now I mean to say: Checkmate.

Good game.

Best Regards;

Gabriel

August 7, 2013

“Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the change that we seek." - Barack Obama

--- --- ---

Temporal: (limited to time, civil as opposed to spiritual)

Temporal affairs occupy most of man’s time and care.

--- --- ---

Part VII

The President of the United States of America

Drone Strikes

Afghanistan

August 2013

I really can’t say much about drone strikes other than the fact that drone strikes are used to bomb innocent foreign Citizens and Civilians abroad in the “Middle East” and Africa as well as killing innocent casualties of war, whom are considered “collateral damage” by our congressional government and the military industrial complex.

With all due respect; I’d like to think that any man in the Oval Office would ask himself a few questions before implementing war strategies upon innocents 1) How would Civilian drone strikes affect diplomatic missions and global relationships? 2) How would American Civilians react if those drone strikes struck their communities, villages and private residences in the good old U.S. of A.? 3) Would the global community accept such acts of military defiance in the name of democracy? 4) What’s the point in destroying and murdering innocent bi-standers of war? (Profits? Surely not that.) 5) Would that lucrative, violent, war mongering, and chaos off-set far more dangers than cultural and global misunderstanding? 6) Who would the American government royally anger and would our targeted war enemies get in the way of future peace-talks and progressive negotiations through positive conflict resolution?

I’m not sure as to what to say to anyone in conversation about war other than I’m opposed and completely anti-drone strikes just as much as I’m opposed to any torture tactics because then the code of conduct when holding prisoners of war becomes a medieval course of action.

Contemporary Americans aren’t barbarians and if they are then they’re mentally insane because global culture is far more sophisticated than torture, miserably taunting, and bullying and urinating upon captives.

Yes, I believe in old fashion war rules before sauntering off into an ideological war but the messy aspect of all wars is that it’s filled with bloodshed that doesn’t wipe clean very easily.

Our American congressional government has bloodshed all over its hands and if there ever were any extremist terrorist-threats or radically violent attempts upon the American Citizens and Civilians then it would come down to the fault of a failing American Republic congressional government and its leaderless, not the American People who struggle to put ‘bread ‘n’ butter’ upon their tables.

Yes, ideological extremist-terrorist violence would be awful upon American soil and as a Nation our People would grieve immensely as we have done so before. Loss is nothing new to our short History / Herstory.

As for the American People, we know all about lies, loss and oppression.

I know this sounds redundant however the globe got smaller since the 1980’s with the awesome power and innovative invention of on-line communication.

The world will no longer become what it was meant to be otherwise the Internet Age just like his sister “The Industrial Revolution” did for advancing free-market-enterprise and Civilization as we know it.

The world did in fact get smaller not because it’s a cliché rather because it’s a reality. The American People no longer are forced to listen to a mass media filled with a corporate agenda.

Instead global Peoples are able to get better informed from any source on the ground and that’s real news when Citizens and Civilians get on the wire and exchange factual information about any condition at anytime, anyplace.

I’ll try not to be all too facetious however if the main goal to this “made-up” Afghanistan, Taliban, C.I.A., opium war was to “democratize Afghanistan” then tell me this: Why is it that instead of giving Afghanistan 165 billion dollars (I’ll check those figures again) to build mosques along the roadsides why, then, didn’t the American congressional government invest that 165 billion dollars (I need to re-check those figures) to build schools for children and adult learning centers?

The very foundation of democracy is built upon a non-religious sector leading the way for the free-thinkers to express their educated freewill without prejudice as to who is free to think or not.

It seems to me that the best way to democratize Afghanistan is through education which will lead the future generations down an avenue of progress, economical independence, ideological freedom, religious freedom from antiquated points of view in which women are the slaves of men. (As if.)

It seems that from some of the most recent reports in The New York Times that Afghanistan suffers as a culture and as a political structure because prostitution is a number one enterprise even though it contradicts and goes against everything that Islam preaches.

What I can’t seem to understand is this: Why are there extremist-terrorist threats against the American People when it’s Afghanistan that supports the vitality of prostitution and threatens the health and vitality of its Adult-Prostitute married Islamic women and treats them like garbage?

Do Afghanistan men not (correction) believe in…any longer?

Maybe they never did and it was all a power-struggle front put on by brutality and the separation from Allah’s love and forgiveness for about one-thousand years (or so) of war between the Sunni and Shiites.

I’m beginning to believe that the Middle East puts on a great front to never have to progress beyond their noses, build irrigations water ways, farms, industrialize and materialize their raw goods into invested production.

What does Afghanistan really have to offer the world in the way of raw material goods? Sand, desert, caves?

I mean really. Wouldn’t it be awesome if the Middle East had another more valuable resource to contribute to the world other than war, extremist religious doctrines and preaching of thin air?

Why doesn’t Afghanistan get into the export and import business of producing something from nothing? Why doesn’t Afghanistan get into the global economical game? Is the world bank angry with Afghanistan for something they did or didn’t do?

What a double standard to say the least. (I can’t stand a double standard.)

Okay; ‘Yeah. Let’s make terrorist threats against the American People while Islamic prostitution-pimps run a double-standard for an Islamic country, economic oppression and spits in the face of Allah all in the name of a ‘democratized’ and ‘free’ Afghanistan when it hasn’t made any strides towards that direction.’ (I don’t think so.)

Not to mention a philosophical and physical war against Afghanistan’s Married Islamic Sisters who sell their bodies in the exchange for sex for a mere morsel of food. Our American pimps work in the same manner here in the United States of America. Nothing much changes from one ghetto to another.

Whatever. Americans are least afraid of Islam and Allah.

Allah, too, loves the Americans.

Eat these words for late Nordic supper.

I get it that Afghanistan culture, religion and politics are as corrupt as the American congressional government is, with opium as the main source of trade in the exchange and in the form a war against Afghanistan that kills our American troops and has the American People burying their dead and caring for their deeply traumatized returned, injured and wounded Veterans.

I hate to put it this way; but most rural Afghanistan lives in caves and herds small livestock. What’s the big deal about Afghanistan other than the opium? Please. (It’ll take a lot to convince me otherwise.)

Impress us.

Impress the Americans.

Impress Allah with fair, kind and just love.

While American People starve; we don’t find anything remotely attractive about Afghanistan as of yet. I don’t mind having my mind changed. I love the Middle East but please understand that our People, too, suffer in ways that the mass media doesn’t make it apparent because they, too, are a part of a corporate agenda.

As of this weekend the American congressional government just admitted in the mass media that Cairo, Egypt’s military coup is in fact a military take-over with the murder of three-hundred FORMER President Morsi supporters.

No wonder the Egyptians are mad as fire. To be a supporter of a certain political sect doesn’t grant any military to open fire upon any Peoples of the world. Not here on Earth. Allah doesn’t overlook such heinous war crimes.

Enough for today.

Sincerely and With Best Regards;

Gabriel

P.S. No, I don’t write ‘to hear myself speak.’

No, my life stories don’t interest me much because I’ve already lived through my very own life; I don’t need to sensationalize anything for that matter.

Yes, I write to have audience appreciators read and interpret according to their world viewpoint.

No, I don’t think that I’m any more or less important than anyone else.

Yes, I find some of our Contemporaries to be elite yet human.

No, I’m not afraid to speak or write as an American Adult Citizen.

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

No, I’m not an Ancient Maya.

No, I’m not my Ancestors because hopefully they’ve already completed their cross over journeys. (In other words: I’m not dead.)

I know as much as I know about the Ancient Maya even though I’ve spent the past thirty-six years immersed and learned about Maya Ancestry. Who doesn’t learn about their blood kin, clans and tribes? Please.

How am I a modern Maya?

For example: I believe that Adults turn into Adults at the age of thirty-five (35) instead and unlike the Ancient Maya thought that twenty-one (21) was the age of adulthood however I’ll live three times (3x’s) their life expectancy.

Due to scientific brain studies (2013) about brain development it’s conclusive that the human male brain isn’t done developing until about the age of thirty-four (give or take a year.)

And for that reason alone I defer from the Ancient Maya and that doesn’t mean that I’m not authentic to my culture however and nevertheless it does indeed imply that due to the times I live in I, too, get to evolve from the Ancient Ancestors bloodshed, barbarian tactics of war, and more greedy war bloodshed. (What a tragic history indeed.)

As a Contemporary Maya; No, I’m not dead therefore please don’t speak about Our People as something of the past, without a pulse or beat.

August 6, 2013

"It was the labor movement that helped secure so much of what we take for granted today. The 40-hour work week, the minimum wage, family leave, health insurance, Social Security, Medicare, retirement plans. The cornerstones of the middle-class security all bear the union label." - Barack Obama

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Temporize: (to delay, to yield to current opinion, to comply with time and occasion)

The senators wisely refused to temporize.

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Part VI

The President of the United States of America

Chapter 9/11

Rumors and Terrorist Threats

August 6, 2013

Yes, I understand that by adding forty-thousand (40,000) (or so) more border security guards and patrol between the United States of America and Mexico, that-that particular budget does indeed allow for congressional government to proceed (2013) “‘...with under the table private contracts that take significant amount of funds away from public funding. It’s nothing new in how government functions.’”

I understand the concept of Fascism:

What I don’t understand: is why all the fuss and rumors about al-Qaida.

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

First, I’m not going to minimize any terrorist-threat.

Second, 9/11 taught Americans not to live in fear.

Third, Americans have grown a backbone and an open mind about Islam.

Fourth, Americans aren’t only intelligent but Americans are also one body of work as We The People Stand indivisible for all.

Fifth, rumors don’t stand-up on-their-own-two-feet after the debacle of the "Arms of Mass Destruction” theory under the Bush / Cheney administration which the entire lie turned out to be a hoax (Big Foot is more real than the Bush / Cheney administration ever was) (a made-up war with Iraq). (How embarrassing for the American government and the Presidential Office for which it stands?)

The American People’s sons and daughters sauntered off to war about twelve years ago and they haven’t returned; “The People’s Vietnam II” “America’s Second Vietnam” (as I write this on August 6, 2013.)

Sixth, Americans require facts and evidence in the form of a public service; airtime in the form of news paid by advertisers. (Pity.)

(Perhaps we don’t need mass media, per say, but we do require factual information and hardnosed news otherwise it’s embarrassing to watch the media verbally masturbate in front of The People as they mock the hardworking and sacrificing American People to trust a corporate congressional government that murders their young-adult children in made-up wars and basis the news upon rumors and whispers. As if.

Americans have awoken and hear them roar.

(Please, we’re all adults here.)

Seven, the American People understand that classified information is necessary for the benefit of the American People however not at the expense of our American People’s livelihoods, lifestyles, privacy, security and health.

Eight, We The People don’t like to be spied upon by made-up, secret laws that can place our Civilians in jail or get us sent to Guantanamo Bay (without any moment’s notice) because The People’s Due Process is no longer a law under “Order 66” (Star Wars, a movie reference) by the governance of a Presidential Order.

Eight-and-a-half, We The People acknowledge the hunger strike at Guantanamo Bay and stand in solidarity to have that security torturous maximum prison closed, yesterday, today, tomorrow morning.

Congressional government’s a coward to do the right thing by prisoners that haven’t even been tried under a fair and just trial, (referring to the Original American Constitution.)

Nine, We The People understand that we no longer hold a right to fair and just trials in the representation under Due Process. (How tragic indeed.)

Nine-and-a-half, We The People require our Due Process returned to us as our life-given rights.

Ten, We The People require for “The Patriot Act” to dissolve as a made-up and secretive law and government agency because it tears at the very heart of democracy and barbarians we aren’t.

Twelve, We The People require for American Intelligence (non-corrupt Intelligence) to do their job well, precisely and intact so that the media stops “frightening” The People with bullshit-rhetoric and with made-up media rumors in which their corporate government tells them to air without any concrete evidence or factual information. As if.

Show The People concrete evidence of any potential terrorist-attack otherwise it’s all a made-up joke on The People that mocks their very intelligence and way of life.

Eleven, Americans are in the Pursuit of Happiness as Private Citizens and Civilians however when their Liberties and Rights are stolen by their congressional government; and, Americans are left to starve and homeless then our government has indeed failed our People on every front.

And when a government fails its People to the point in which it drives them to desperation and economic oppression, simply because the bottom line is greed, then why should The American People believe a cocaine induced media, hopped-up on ridiculous rumors whispered about terrorist-threats? Why? Please.

If there are terrorists making threats then come-out-with-it, men. Say it! Let’s get it over with so that We can prepare against such threats.

Twelve, yes, Americans are the offspring of the American Revolutionaries.

Neither the British Revolutionaries nor extremist-terrorists or any other dangerous and violent party may ever take over the United States of America.

Thirteen, since the George Washington Era; We The People have been ready to take up arms for this Land of the Free.

No religion governs, here, only, The People.

We The People are prepared and will fight against any other Nation that threatens our very own way of life and terrorizes our Civil Liberties and Constitutional Rights.

Fourteen, to be an American Citizen and Civilian is to know that we’d be willing to sacrifice our very own lives for those of our beloved ones and neighbors if our Country were ever to be invaded.

Even if it meant going to war with pitch forks and muskets.

We The People aren’t afraid to defend our Nation, our Civil Liberties, and Rights and our Freewill.

Fifteen, what happened to the hardnosed news days of Walter Cronkite?

Why is mass media so flaky when The People really do want to learn?

Sixteen, We The People aren’t afraid of terrorist-threats because we’ve lived through the Revolutionary War, Pearl Harbor and 9/11.

Any low-life bully that makes terrorist-threats upon Our People and Our Land after our Civil Liberties and Constitutional Rights were stolen by a Fascist congressional government (for the past twelve years) is either mad or doesn’t understand the level of patience and Civil Power that Americans hold as a piece of work constructed from the ashes of the Phoenix, Lady Luck and Love.

It’s a Brave New World out there and the Americans aren’t any longer afraid of any lies or made-up, rumor-filled, threats because we’ll combat any violent rhetorical and metaphorical fire with fire.

Violence is indeed ignorance to say the least.

We’re no longer afraid to die for what we believe in… We never were and we aren’t. (Today, we burry our dead.)

Sincerely and With Best Regards;

Gabriel

Fascism By Definition: Source, Wikipedia.

Fascism /ˈfæʃɪzəm/ is a form of radical authoritarian nationalism that came to prominence in early 20th-century Europe. Fascists seek to unify their nation through a totalitarian state that promotes the mass mobilization of the national community, relying on a vanguard party to initiate a revolution to organize the nation on fascist principles. Hostile to liberal democracy, socialism, and communism, fascist movements share certain common features, including the veneration of the state, a devotion to a strong leader, and an emphasis on ultranationalism and militarism. Fascism views political violence, war, and imperialism as a means to achieve national rejuvenation and asserts that stronger nations have the right to obtain land and resources by displacing weaker nations.

Fascist ideology consistently invokes the primacy of the state. Leaders such as Benito Mussolini in Italy and Adolf Hitler in Germany embodied the state and claimed indisputable power. Fascism borrowed theories and terminology from socialism but applied them to what it saw as the more significant conflict between nations and races rather than to class conflict, and focused on ending the divisions between classes within the nation. It advocates a mixed economy, with the principal goal of achieving autarky to secure national self-sufficiency and independence through protectionist and interventionist economic policies. Fascism supports what is sometimes called a Third Position between capitalism and Marxist socialism. Fascist movements emphasize a belligerent, virulent form of nationalism (chauvinism) and a distrust of foreigners (xenophobia), the latter closely linked to the ethnocentrism of many fascist movements. The typical fascist state also embraced militarism, a belief in the rigors and virtues of military life as an individual and national ideal, meaning much of public life was organized along military lines and an emphasis put on uniforms, parades, and monumental architecture.

August 5, 2013

Aloha!

Happy Monday!

August 2, 2013

"America and Islam are not exclusive and need not be in competition. Instead, they overlap, and share common principles of justice and progress, tolerance and the dignity of all human beings." - Barack Obama

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Tenable: (capable of being maintained or held)

We have enough facts to make our theory tenable.

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Part V

The President of the United States of America

Immigration

There’s zero population of Immigrants entering our Nation today.

There are approximately some two-thousand (1,933) miles of border across the United States of America and Mexico.

There are approximately some seven-hundred (700) miles of fenced-off border between the United States of America and Mexico.

What’s this Homeland Security’s ‘Secure Fence Act’s goal?’ What.

Why did the Congressional Research Service estimate in 2007 that the border wall would cost as much as $49 Billion when the costs are so much more than that?

$49 Billion of the American taxpayers’ money goes towards that ghastly border wall and it’s as ugly as it gets as far as aesthetics. That border wall looks like a prison.

What on Earth? How pathetic.

Who’s running congress?

A bunch of snot nosed kids?

What goes on here?

A state-of-the-art 2013 American public school construction costs are about $35 Million per school (my research in 2011 was approximately $11 Million.) (What do I know, he?)

Why did congress sink 50 Billion into building a border wall? Why?

When the quoted costs to implement free early public childhood education (Head Start) across the United States is approximately $10 Billion dollars to instill such precious curriculum.

Why not take that 50 Billion that created a border wall and sink it into early childhood education across the country or pay back what is owed to our returning war Veterans?

Could you imagine 50 Billion dollars sunk into free and public early childhood education? Parents and communities would rejoice in such tender, loving, care of their children’s educational futures. Cheers!

Did the Americans get to Vote for a border wall memorandum?

Our Mexican brothers and sisters have left the United States of America and they shan’t be back anytime soon because they realized how difficult a task it is to establish and make a place of our own in this American Land when we treat our very own Citizens as wage slaves for the government to break The People and leave them without anything to eat and homeless on the streets.

The government passes laws for or against minimum wage workers.

Now, we know where we stand.

It’s government’s duty to stand-up for the equal rights of its People or unions are required to step-in and represent their workers on their healthy and just behalves.

Successful corporations and thriving businesses don’t lose any sleep over raising the minimum wage at the rate of inflation, that’s how it’s supposed to work.

When the cost-of-living goes up then so does the minimum wage otherwise our American government creates the starvation of its own People and drives them to their demise; Homelessness and desperation.

::::::::: (After everything’s been said and done; I starved when I made eleven dollars ($11.15) per hour (in the year 2004-2005) at a fulltime position, forty hours per week. I starved on that meager wage and salary. The economical morsels were so drab for the difficult work I did as a professional Video Technician for a children’s hospital. (Ouch!) I had great health care coverage and paid time off (about two months per year;) yet I starved; nonetheless.) :::::::::

As a Nation we failed our Mexican Immigrant field hand workers who aren’t even allowed to go to the bathroom so ‘they piss’ amongst the crops they pick (gather.)

How inhumane to do that to hard working and a humble People slaving away at two-dollars per hour, without health care benefits, education, a way to learn English and in desperate fear that either Immigration will find them and deport them, split up their families without the possibility of ever seeing their children for decades or ever again.

What American Citizens don’t seem to understand is that a whole lot of excellent quality of familial life is at stake here for our Mexican Immigrants.

Our American government isn’t in the line of business of splitting up Immigrant Families no matter whose Families they might be; Mexican, French, German, Somali, Russian, Hmong or otherwise.

The Puritans were Immigrants to these Lands but that didn’t give anyone just cause to split up their babies and families and send them back to England. No.

The point is that there are roughly about eleven (11) million Immigrant People and their Families who are counting on the government not to split them up.

(Only the Nazis and Fascists split up families on purpose.)

Some of the most respected Mexican workers we’ve met and gotten to know live in fear of being deported every single day of their lives and forced with the gut wrenching decision to leave their American-Citizen born / Mexican-Immigrant Children in the care of family members and other village Elders while the adult parents are forced to return to Mexico with their other Mexican-born children.

What on Earth is that all about.

Every day our Mexican Immigrants live in fear to be deported from one American ghetto into another Mexican ghetto; poverty in either country is a living hell to be lived through except that in Mexico their Citizens and Civilians do go missing, kidnapped, killed and murdered by the Mexican drug lords and a cowardly government that looks the other way and without any governance, structure or consequence in the exchange for bribes.

The only exception and consolation price about returning to Mexico is that Mexico’s culture is a much slower pace of life and the people can really appreciate nature, natural foods, art, music and romance, love and more love.

Within the first decade of the twenty-first century our Mexican brothers and sisters have buried approximately eighty-thousand (80,000) of their own families, community members and neighbors.

What genocide indeed all in the name of greed and drugs. Why doesn’t Mexico legalize all drugs and turn that profit into a lucrative enterprise?

More on Tuesday:

Sincerely;

Gabriel

P.S. Yes, one of my favorite things to read is a “Mr. Know-It-All” from a magazine titled “Wired Magazine.” (I have to look up the name of the author.)

August 1, 2013

"The thing about hip-hop today is it's smart, it's insightful. The way they can communicate a complex message in a very short space is remarkable." - Barack Obama

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Torturous: (twisting, winding, turning, curving)

The torturous road ascending the mountain caused them much trouble.

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Part IV

The President of the United States of America

No, I didn’t mean to imply that I believe that all humans are criminals.

Yes, what I wrote in italics is a “‘paraphrase quote’” that I heard in private conversation with a man discussing:

[“ ‘Everybody’s a criminal in America.

Everybody.’”

In other words:

Yes, especially any President sitting in the Oval Office

or any members of congress].

What’s time?

What’s writing indeed?

Immigration

No, I don’t want to write about Immigration because I’m not up to par on (any) 2013 Immigration Reform. (I listen to others’ bits and pieces of conversation.)

[Yes, I have many personal bias opinions about anything and hopefully through logic and reasoning skills I can make my way through a thick jungle of political rhetoric and vines.

(Careful for the snakes, spiders, insects, frogs, bees, monkeys, wild boar, scorpions and poisonous plants, crocodiles and malaria infested mosquitoes. Anyone of these can in fact kill.) Step lightly and quietly.] Even poetry wants to spring upon these pages… Okay, I’ll hold the reins back on that poetry…

Yes, I’m stalling…

(I’m “nervous” (not really) to write what I want to write about what I see in this world but I’m afraid I’ll fail with words. Photographs don’t even begin to cover what I see from a director’s panoramic view.) Thank you.

Okay, I won’t stall any longer.

I’ll have to deal with my nerves…(not literally, as a manner of speech.)

What is there to be said about Immigration?

America is now Berlin WWII.

At the border between the United States of America and Mexico lies a fence, (who knows how long;) the last time I heard the fence was one-thousand miles (1,000) of fence. Is that right? (I’d have to research that.)

As of mid-summer 2013 I heard a gentleman mention that congress passed into affect some type of legal mandate in the form of a private government contract to add forty-thousand (40,000) security guards at the Mexican border.

In our previous presidential election (2012) the GOP’s political Tea Party branch, extremist and right-winged radicals in mass media called for an electric fence along the entire length of the border specifically to electrocute our Mexican brothers, sisters and their bambinos simply as political campaign rhetoric to sway their fundamentalist base to vote for them. (Oh, God no! Are these Mussolini politics at work? Why is Fascism so prevalent in contemporary American politics.)

At one point within the past year I turned on the Tele and heard Tea Party right-wing Republican presidential candidates preach about the genocide of Immigrants at the Mexican border and I almost threw up in my mouth (not literally.)

How dare presidential candidates speak like that about humans as if they were some type of cattle?

I was beside myself looking and listening to these insane humans on network television say that it was okay to electrocute Mexican Grandmothers holding babies while crossing the border but to vote for such scoundrels anyway. As if.

How dare any one of the presidential candidates who consider themselves as part of Immigrant Families say that it’s okay to torture and commit genocide at the border by electrocuting our Mexican Brothers and Sisters. Please. (Simply don’t be so insulting. Come out with it.)

No one person who comes from an Immigrant Family considers the genocide of other Immigrants at any time in history at any border.

Why is it that these Republican presidential candidates didn’t get fired from the campaign trail?

As a leader I would’ve taken them out of the presidential running so fast.

What a disgrace to the Republican Party.

What a disgrace to my Grandparents, all four of them must be rolling in their graves at this Republican Party gone Fascist especially my Grandfathers who both fought in the Korean War. (I miss the 1980’s Republican Party… Okay, I regress. I won’t get politically nostalgic here. Yes, I used to be a great defender of the Republican Party. What would you know about it? A lot, I suppose.)

Someone hateful bought the Tea Party presidential candidates airtime to continue with their political rhetorical hatred in the public eye and stage front.

I couldn’t believe what I saw with my own two eyeballs and heard with my own two ears. Really? (It was a horrible soap opera. I had to turn the Tele off for many months after that. I was beside myself at what the Tea Party presidential candidates preached in the name of greed, corporate funded campaigns and scandalous ego and genocide disguised with empty niceties.)

I could go on… but I won’t. My writing hour’s up.

[Please don’t make me spell it out for you tomorrow.]

Sincerely;

Gabriel

P.S. It’ll be most unpleasant and I hate to embarrass anyone especially myself when I’m recounting recent history and sacred literary storytelling. Spelling things out for the reader is like telling a date that he’s got caca on his forehead and it turns out to be chocolate. Ha!

I’m writing literary films for you to watch because filming became way, too, dangerous in my professional field (on the ground) as an anthropological documentary filmmaker.

It’s indeed a gift; I can barely utter words after thirteen years on the ground as a documentary filmmaker and prepared to retire from all documentary filmmaking at the age of thirty-six. (I’m glad of it. It was a social struggle to say the least.) The decision is final.

Yes, I’ll continue to produce cinema just not documentaries. I’m leaving documentary filmmaking up to better men who can tell a good story and stay honest to the core of the thesis, subject matter and social justice.

I have two documentary full length features to cut and then I’m retiring from that part of my life and move into animation (stop-motion, clay-mation and screenplays then novels…] (I can’t wait to start writing novels in about a decade. Oh, my divine Gods! The words I could write and it would all be a lie. Ha! Fun writing!)

I’m glad that people will keep us connected and informed to the world by emailing us and letting us know what’s happening around the globe. Thank you.

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