February 28, 2013
“Religion and art spring from the same root and are close kin.
Economics and art are strangers.” - Nathaniel Hawthorne
Happy Thursday!
Aloha!
February 27, 2013
“The animals that depend on instinct have an inherent knowledge of
the laws of economics and of how to apply them; Man, with his powers of reason,
has reduced economics to the level of a farce which is at once funnier and more
tragic than Tobacco Road.” - James Thurber
Happy Wednesday!
Aloha!
February 26, 2013
“When a management with a reputation for brilliance tackles a
business with a reputation for bad economics, it is the reputation of the
business that remains intact.” - Warren Buffett
Happy Tuesday!
Aloha!
February 25, 2013
“It seems to me that socialists today can preserve their position
in academic economics merely by the pretense that the differences are entirely
moral questions about which science cannot decide.” - Friedrich August von Hayek
Happy Monday!
Aloha.
February 22, 2013
“Did you ever think that making a speech on economics is a lot like
pissing down your leg? It seems hot to you, but it never does to anyone else.” - Lyndon B. Johnson
Happy Friday!
Aloha.
February 21, 2013
“When you are content to be simply yourself and don't compare or
compete, everybody will respect you.” - Lao Tzu
“Be peaceful, be courteous, obey the law, respect everyone; but if
someone puts his hand on you, send him to the cemetery.” - Malcolm X
Happy Thursday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Thank you, yes.
----- ----- -----
I’m neither any type of exercise specialist
nor nutrition’s expert.
I know what I know from mindful exercise and
eating in moderation for the past twenty some years.
I know for a fact that weight loss pills
don’t work.
How do I know for a fact that weight loss
pills don’t work?
I took over-the-counter (store bought) weight
loss pills just two months before our wedding (2009) and gained about fifteen
pounds in those two months.
I could barely breathe.
I had shortness of breath and every thirty
minutes my heart felt like it was about to explode inside my chest. It was the
only time in my life that I seriously thought I might drop dead from a heart
attack but I kept taking the darn weight loss pills expecting a miracle as I
watched my waistline expand. What happened to me was short of criminal. I can’t
believe the FCC doesn’t clean up the broadcast airwaves. They’ll get women
killed.
I didn’t tell Eric about the weight loss
pills. He was upset when he found out what a silly thing I’d done. I was upset
right along with him. He wondered what on earth was happening to me and so did
I.
At the end of those two short months I
couldn’t fit into my original wedding dress as planned. I had to go and
purchase an elastic jumper-dress at the very last minute. I fit myself into a
summer dress that I liked but it wasn’t the original wedding dress that I was
prepared to wear and had sent away to be tailored to fit the very lovely
contours of my body, six months prior to this weight loss pill fiasco, plus I
was fighting horrible abdominal pain from a seventeen-year long misdiagnosis.
When that happens to you and you can’t get
into your wedding dress, it’s quite sad in many ways, yet you have to lift your
chin up and walk with grace no matter how awful you may feel about the
situation. I should’ve never put weight loss chemicals into my body. Oh, well.
Live and learn.
All, that, the weight loss pills did for me
was to make me shake from the speed from some potent chemical in the pills and
I felt as though I was about to be ill every ten minutes. Bad medicine. I’ll
not do that again for as long as I live.
It was the stupidest thing in the world and I
looked bloated as a sea cow (and they’re cute animals) in all of our wedding
pictures plus the photographer hated our guts because he didn’t want to attend
our wedding, in the first place. He told me so therefore, we look horrible in
every single picture from every angle.
The pictures are god awful, they were taken
with hatred. What were we expecting? When the photographer was mediocre and the
only way to get my supposed male friend of, then, seventeen years to attend our
wedding, all there was to do was to pay the poor bastard because he’s been
broke and poor since he was fifteen years-old, although now he looks like an
old balding man with rotting teeth. We’re no longer friends because of how
disrespectful he was to Eric at our wedding reception.
----- ----- -----
How do I know that starvation doesn’t work?
I lived
with anorexics that weren’t only crabby as hell all of the time from starvation
but had some serious dysmorphia about their body image. Even though they were
about one-hundred pounds they might as well have been one-thousand pounds.
Every
anorexic that I’ve ever known has been a dire closeted alcoholic, so that can’t
be the answer either. Every anorexic I’ve ever known has had some serious
issues with “one-night-stands.” I’m not judging anybody but a different
stranger from the bar every-single-night of the week must’ve been a sign of
some other psychological condition and every type of anorexic such as this has
always been a mixture of two-races, bi-racial, prominently black-and-white
races.
My one roommate would bake-and-cook all
Saturdays-and-Sundays and by Monday morning she would throw-out large
quantities of food into the garbage and make sure that I watched her morbid
sense of control.
I was starved at that time because I didn’t
make much money even though I worked like a dog and she never so much as
offered a morsel of food but it gave her a great deal of satisfaction to watch
my mortified face look on as she’d throw away all that food. It made me
internally sick just to watch her be so sadistic.
I stopped watching and began to ignore her
because she was sadistic and derived a great deal of pleasure from harming
others and yet at the same time like every other alcoholic I’ve ever known she
loved to cry upon my shoulder when she got really drunk and then she’d get
pissed off at herself that she’d broken down with me and called me a narcissist
for listening to her go on-and-on about her every woe for hours. What a dork.
What a sap. What a loser to say the least.
I’ve lived with women who obsessed about
their looks and no matter how much they exercised they’ve not been able to take
off the little bit of excess fat they carry. I can only imagine that it’s in
their genetic make-up to keep them alive in case of famine or if severe illness
was upon them. How tremendously wonderful for their bodies to do that for them,
yet they self-loathed year-after-year and that was their only topic of
discussion along with large quantities of alcohol consumption to drown out
their sorrows about their little bit of body fat.
I’ve had roommates who loved to purge and
then throw-up every morsel of food they’ve ever consumed and well, that type of
human has no clue that they smell quite awful to the rest of us who don’t make
it a tendency of vomiting everything we eat.
I’ve lived amongst women who’ve obsessed
about their weight and lie about how much they exercise while they keep their
grandiose consumption of junk food hidden from view thinking that they’re
fooling people like alcoholics do, but they’re fooling no one but themselves.
No matter how much they lie about how much
they exercise, these women can’t seem to lose the fat because they don’t do
anything about it but complain, yet they can’t sit down and savor one-to-three
cookies, they eat fifty or one-hundred cookies all in one sitting and continue
to gain three times their body weight because their entire lives are founded
upon the basis of a lie.
I’ve come across women who can eat just about
everything that’s in their cupboards and refrigerators in about two hours or
so. It’s frightening to watch. It’s like watching somebody cut themselves.
Your heart truly hurts for them but the more
you feel for them then the more they hate your guts because all they want to
hear, is how beautiful they look even though they’re morbidly obese.
They’re constantly comparing their bodies to
your body with sheer hatred over your self-control to only eat three cookies
instead of fifty. Like the alcoholic they want you to sit down with them and
become as intoxicated as them until they puke or come close to it. I can’t
stand this type of behavior. The behavior makes me want to be ill.
I can’t deal with such a human. A
narcissist-and-a-victim wrapped up in one big roll of lard and fat of
self-loathing because ultimately they’re spoilt brats that hate because life
didn’t turn out the way they thought it should under their control. They didn’t
leave any room for play, improvisational plan B or anything else that comes
with real life and truths. Oh, woe is them.
----- ----- -----
Mind you, people don’t often bully me about
because when you’re in my presence you can sense that I’ve got the type of
power to either make you crap yourself or love yourself. I’ve got intense eyes
that carry the vision of my every ancestor before me.
Ancestors that weren’t afraid to shed blood
for what belonged to them and what was rightfully theirs. Nope. I don’t get
mowed down or shoved out-of-my-place-in-line unless you want to have your
womanhood or manhood handed to you in a wicker basket. (I hate wicker with a
passion. It’s so ugly to me and cheap looking.)
I’m not the type of person that you easily
**** with very often even though I’m loving and bubbly to those that I respect
and trust because I will stand up to bullies. Any bully. I demand justice for
all, damn it! Respect.
I refuse to live as a victim and I neither
regret my life nor am I afraid to live it because I’ve been able to
intellectually outsmart, emotionally battle and go to war against idiotic
abusive morons.
Oh, I ought to have been a general. I’m not
the tallest woman in a room but you’d think I was 6’8”. Ha! Figuratively
speaking. Or, so others tell me. I guess I carry a type of power that can only
mean respect or figuratively die a horrible figurative-death by the sword
(pen.)
I’ve stood up for others because the one gift
that I’ve been bestowed with is to stand up against bullies, tyrants and
abusers. It’s easy for me to do so.
I’ve got so much love in my heart that
fighting someone who is an abuser is like a cakewalk in the park. It’s the
socially manipulative ones that are the sneakier ones but if you know what to
look for then you can see them coming a mile away. They smell of self-loathing.
Fighting with me is like deciding to forfeit all
freedoms to the human condition, heart, mind, emotion and soul because I’m a
grounded Taurus and to think that I’m easily mowed down is to think of
yourselves as delusional cowards. Nope. I’m like Rosa Parks. I’m tired of
bullies. I will sit down on the back of the bus, damn it. My feet hurt.
I’m someone who’ll fight to the figurative
death defending “geek-power,” the weak and the meek and that’s the difference
between an abusive coward and myself; I’m not afraid to figuratively die for
what I believe in and I’m not afraid to say that I’m wrong when I am.
I, like the phoenix will rise again from my
ashes and when I do, then run! I’m like the Hulk, when I get angry (which is
rare) and the angrier I get then the more figuratively stronger I become because
it’s very rare that I’ll want to tear your head off but if I do like some of my
former privileged-hateful, social-worker, grad-student-neighbors, then run
because by the time I get that angry then I already hate everything you stand
for or don’t or pretend to and by then I will figuratively rip you a new one
and you’ll wish you were someone else.
I will calmly tell you every truth that you hate about yourself and
didn’t think that it was so obvious and evident to others.
There’s nothing more annoying than a
poser-hack who thinks that they’ve attained power because they’ve grabbed it
all for themselves or taken it away from others without knowing anything about
the secrets of power.
----- ----- -----
In the year 2006 I gained fifty pounds from
corporate stress and I primarily dealt with what we now know for a fact to have
been an embezzler accountant at the company.
Mind you: The quasi-accountant interviewed
and hired me. How queer is that? Quite. What would an embezzling accountant
know about hiring a broadcast engineer? Nothing. She proved it so.
On my first day of work I refused to
“corporate spy” for her and from there on, she had it out for me with a
vengeance. Her main goal was to get me fired each-and-every single day of that
year.
When you’re dealing with that type of
discrimination, prejudice, some racism and stress then the body does some weird
things to shield itself from so much hatred.
The accountant’s actions were criminal. What
she did to me within that year as far as harassment is concerned could get her
incarcerated. Jail time. Even the owner told me that I reminded her of Costa
Rican monkeys that she had seen on some nature show. Can you imagine that type
of racism? Having your boss compare you to monkeys? Thank god my friends still
work there or I’d want to shutdown the entire operation. Thank god my friends
are still employed and paid well-enough. Thank god I love my friends and will
let sleeping dogs lay. Yes, indeed.
It was the year in which all women beyond
menopause age, in their mid-sixties tried to get me fired because I wouldn’t do
unethical and immoral actions for them. I’m still invited to their Christmas
parties as I refuse to go. I’d rather be run down by a team of wild horses than
to attend one of their miserable Christmas parties. I would know I’ve attended
two of their parties in the past, everybody just counts down the minutes until
they can leave, it’s written all over their faces.
Towards the end-of-that-year the embezzler
accountant hired herself a corporate spy who had been a receptionist at a
beauty salon, he was hired to do the job of seasoned and professional broadcast
engineers. As if. Yeah, right.
Within the first month, I informed this
receptionist boy that he wasn’t cut out for the job, because from the moment he
walked in for the day until the moment he left, all he did was read novels and
refused to learn how to route, convert to HD, and the main basic functions of
broadcast engineering which is more complex responsibility than you’d realize
for those of you who are inept at advanced intricate technologies.
Finding a great and professional broadcast
engineer is like finding prince charming. They don’t come often because the
work is highly technical within the ever changing technologies. In other words
just when you get used to one technological format then another one comes out
on the market and you’ve got to keep yourself ahead of the curve at all times
and that’s what great engineers do as well as learn new software constantly.
The little receptionist boy who weighed no
more than 98 pounds and moved about like a little rat with a hateful smirk on
his face went and tattled on me about keeping a blog on my own time and on my
own laptop and by that afternoon I was fired. The little weasel took a bite out
of me.
He quit soon after that and went back to
Massachusetts with his tail between his legs to pick cranberries, knowing
perfectly well that what he had done had cost me my livelihood and that he sucked
at anything having to do with television broadcast.
He knew it because I made sure I handed
him-over-his-manhood before I was walked out of the 40th floor of
the IDS building and was dumped out on the street as my kind co-worker walked
me out of the building and hugged me goodbye.
I didn’t take it well at all because by the
time I hit the elevator I broke down and began to cry.
Now that I’m more mature I wouldn’t cry, at
all, until I got home but I’d been so mistreated and abused for an entire year
by “white trash” that I couldn’t help myself but get emotional because at my
exit interview all that my former boss kept doing was to physically poke me
with her fingers (literally.) She wouldn’t stop even when I asked her to please
stop poking me. She poked me for an entire half an hour. It was the queerest
thing in the world. You’d think she had lost her marbles…
She kept poking me and poking me. I could
barely think while the two women harassed me and my one co-worker silently
stood in as a witness. I never touched them, not once but they did as they
pleased with me. They called me names, they insulted me. They told lies about
me to my face without letting me rebuttal and defend myself. I was appalled at
their behavior. I never got to tell them off because it didn’t even enter my
mind. I kept defending my honor to no avail.
I’d never been bullied by anyone quite as I
had by this lesbian butch-dyke, sixty-something,
overweight-megalomaniac-embezzling-accountant who got cancer the year I was
there. Wow! Karma’s a bitch.
What a rotten year! I survived it and I
walked away with a great reputation for being able to sniff out a rat. I can do
it with my eyes closed. I can sense when someone is embezzling from companies
and I’ve proven it six times to corporate America. It’s been all Caucasian
women in positions of managerial power that hate my guts with a passion because
they know that I’m smart enough to catch unto their games and that I can blow
their cover at any given moment as I’ve proven to do so in the past and will
continue to do so into the future. Yes, I make a great silent partner
behind-the-scenes.
I went home, cried and went for a skateboard
ride.
I felt like crap for about a year following;
(I neither got paid a severance package nor unemployment because my former boss
and her staff (whom I’d never closely worked with) these women lied to a an
unemployment judge and thus I lived off of my savings because abusive people
will do that to you, they’ll cheat you out of what is owed to you and lie about
it if they can get away with it) it wasn’t until news reached my desk of what
had occurred with the embezzlement that I understood that it wasn’t me. Yippee!
I’d known it all along.
Life has been nothing but a dream ever since
that day. Now I answer to investors who don’t care what I write so long as I
produce original work and that’s all that matters. I won the lottery!!! Again.
----- ----- -----
I grew up getting physically cornered by my
adopted mother (a raging undiagnosed bi-polar, dry-alcoholic) who is three
times larger than I am and without ever touching her or bullying her I could
get her to back off when I started telling her truths about herself that she
couldn’t see about herself then I’d leave her crying on the floor like a victim
she played that role ever so well.
Why is it that bullies “cry wolf” and pretend
with others to be victims but those that are bullied (true victims) hardly ever
talk about the abuse?
No, Sir!
My New England adopted dry-and-wet alcoholic
family members used to corner me.
How do I know they’re wet alcoholics? DUI’s.
How do I know they’re dry-alcoholics? Severe
highs-and-lows with rage.
I learned early on that a bully is a hater
and the best way to overcome them is to tell them the horrible-and-ugly truths
about themselves that they hate to hear. It cripples them each-and-every time.
A dry-drunk is the type of bully that wants to eat your soul, so don’t let
them.
My New England East Coast grandfather made my
one aunt wet herself in her mid-fifties. She peed herself because she was so
terrified of his rage.
No way!
If it had come to blows between my
grandfather and myself then mercy upon his soul.
No one ever stood up to him because he was
the one who was going to dispense a will with many several millions of dollars
in it and due to that monetary cause everyone in the family allowed themselves
and for others to become victims of his rage. Shame not to guard the young
against such abuse.
If my grandfather had ever struck a blow
against me then I would’ve struck a blow in returned. I’d made up my mind at
the age of twelve that I would do so in self-defense against any family member
if they ever struck me. I learned at the age of eleven that we’d been adopted
into half-a-family with volatile rage issues. Pity.
The first time that you witness your
one-uncle hit your cousin so hard across the ears that you think that your
cousin’s ear-drums may explode then you truly realize and learn what you’re up
against. Raging dry-drunks.
I think that it never came to blows between
my grandfather and me because my grandfather innately understood that once I
would’ve gotten a taste of my own blood then it would’ve been all over. Ultimately
my life goal has been to keep the peace amongst abusers who hate with the
passion of devils. How do I know this? I grew up watching my cousins get abused
all in the name of money.
I was much smaller than my grandfather was
but he knew that my will was mightier than his when it came to standing up
against a millionaire bully. I didn’t get a single penny from my inheritance
because I brought up the family abuse in a mass-and-open family e-mail. Ha! I
forfeited my inheritance in exchange for telling the truth. I walked away with
my name.
Oh, the shame of the abuser. Once you let the
cat-out-of-the-bag then they begin to feel the shame that they caused upon
others. They begin to self-destruct or crowd control to put out the fire and
hell if they won’t try to take you down with them as they enter the pits of
hell. Don’t let them take you down.
I was the only one who stood up to my New
England grandfather.
I, too, could yell with every octave he
raised. I, too, raised my defense against his violent tendencies. I’m of a
stubborn will and I refuse to back down when I’m being harmed because what’s
the point of living under the thumb of oppression if the bully doesn’t realize
that you’ve got ten times more power than they do? There’s nothing more annoying
and abusive than a dry-drunk who still believes he’s intoxicated from the
smells of his very own ego-hatred and backed-up poop with a failing liver.
----- ----- -----
This past May 2012 my adopted mother got a
hold of Eric and demanded that she visit while she was passing through
Minneapolis. I haven’t seen her since August 2008. Eric ran it by my
psychologist father.
Do you know what my father said to that
request: “Fuck her.”
I can understand how my father doesn’t trust
her. She’d lied about my father having many affairs during their marriage when
my father didn’t have a single one; it’s been proven and I now consider my
father a hero for living through the discrimination, prejudice and getting
ostracized by an entire community of friends who sided with a liar and refused
to listen to what my father had to say in his defense. Oh, she was a great
little liar but that’s what children of dry-alcoholics are taught to do, to lie
and to cover up the abuse especially when they’re the ones who create it as
adults within their own families.
Manipulative and abusive people are very good
at cover-ups. They think quick on their feet.
I’m not very good at thinking quick on my
feet, but I’m incredibly good at assessing everything over a long period of
time and normally once I put my finger on it then I’m right-on, bull’s-eye,
every time.
I, too, have Indigenous gifts even though I’m
not like the WASP Americans.
My father hardly ever swears but this time he
did. Eric just let me know about a month ago that all of this had happened. My
husband and father are doing everything in their power to keep me safe from my
adopted mother.
My New England adopted mother will go around
telling anyone who will listen to her that I’m mentally ill and ought to be
locked up in a mental institution because I refuse to hold a relationship with
her as an adult.
My psychologist father has granted me a clean
bill of mental health.
My narcissist adopted mother refuses to admit
how sick I’d been for seventeen years while I contended with a medical
misdiagnosis of uterine fibroids that over a seventeen year span grew as large
as grapefruits inside my uterus and every doctor that I ever saw told me to eat
more fiber because I supposedly had irritable bowel syndrome. As if.
Do you know what it’s like to get pregnancy
chemical hormonal rushes throughout your entire system each hour, every hour on
the hour for seventeen years when you’re not even pregnant?
Its hell.
Your body tricks itself into thinking that
it’s pregnant all year round for years while you have no clue what’s happening
to you.
You act pregnant, your body feels pregnant
but you’re not pregnant because the growths in your uterus send signals to the
brain and body telling your body that it’s pregnant, and it believes it but
it’s a fake pregnancy with all of the symptoms, pains and hormonal rushes.
You think that you’re going to die as the
fibroids grow larger and take up more room in your uterus, squeezing your
insides then the pain becomes unbearable and you feel like you’re getting
strangled from the inside.
Your intestines and other vital organs begin
to get pushed and squeezed and you’ve never known continuous and horrendous
pain as such. Never, I tell you. When the fibroids get so large then they burst
and women tend to internally bleed and die.
Most Indigenous women have the life
expectancy of thirty-five years of age due to fibroids. If I would’ve gone on
with such an intolerable pain for even another week then I might’ve died
because the fibroids had gotten as large as grapefruits and I could no longer
breathe. I looked like I had a swollen starving African belly for about
seventeen years.
----- ----- -----
My adopted mother was the one that used to
physically corner my sister and me when she couldn’t control us. She used to
frighten me to death. She’d yell and scream her head off. She was the one who
loved to put my sister and me against each other. She was the one who loved
hatred and treated us like garbage. She’s the one that is mentally insane with
her huge highs-and-lows, mania, but because she has a Harvard Ph.D. then she
can get away with murder.
I’ve asked her many times to leave Eric and
me alone and she continues to contact Eric behind my back and make his life
uncomfortable after she was the one who told me not to marry Eric and didn’t
attend to our wedding after we changed our plans five different times to
appease her. What an abusive dry-alcoholic moron. I, too, hold an honorary
Ph.D. from Harvard and so does my other sister.
My sister became a raging alcoholic by the
age of fifteen as well as a cocaine user, she got caught smoking weed in the
eighth grade, went homeless by the age of nineteen. My sister tried committing
suicide three different times and had her stomach pumped twice at a hospital
that I’m aware of.
My one sister and I don’t speak to each other
either because about four years ago I wrote to her and told her that her only
meal ticket in life was going to be our maniac mother. My sister’s been pissed
off ever since about that and even to this day because it’s the truth. I refuse
to carry her on my back any longer or she would’ve broken it and she knows it.
She doesn’t want to admit it and likes to be defensive about it like my
dry-drunk mother doesn’t want to admit that I, too, had to emotionally carry
her for almost two-decades. Grow up.
My sister is now our adopted-mother’s
companion and will probably be until the day our crazy adopted mother dies. I
got out of that one after taking abuse from both of them for close to two
decades and what killed me the most, was having to hide the abuse and the
addiction all those years. It takes work and it gets tiresome to hide that type
of oppression.
Do you know what it’s like to watch your
mother binge eat and lie about it until she’s three hundred-and-fifty pounds
but believes she’s only one-hundred and twenty? Horrible.
Do you know what it’s like to have to lie to
your mother each time she asks you if she’s beautiful, but if you say, no, then
she ends up emotionally taking it out on you? Horrible.
Do you know what it’s like to pick up your
sister from a bathroom floor at a stranger’s flat and dress her by putting her
underwear and pants back on while she’s blacked out? Horrible.
When other people put you, stick you in a
place of caretaker because they have no regard or respect for your well being,
then you become a servant to their dark, morbid and wayward egotistical causes,
you’re used and made into a slave in hiding their messes and in their
selfishness they justify why you ought to get stuck with their grotesqueness
and ugliness. Gross.
I get grossed out by people’s sense of
privilege, entitlement and superiority when they haven’t done anything to
contribute to great communication.
I can’t stand an inflated ego, that’s why I
test people. Why not? I’m an INFJ after all.
When you pretend to act like the “village
idiot” you can tell a lot about people’s in-depth empathy towards others. I
don’t respect cruelty it leads to more morbid dysfunctional and delusional ego
driven self-made prophecies that normally hurt others rather than contribute to
the well being of an entire community. I run from fools such as these who treat
me like a fool without ever knowing that they’re being tested by someone who’s
most likely smarter than they are at catching them in the act of discrimination
and dismissal. Oh, it’s so much fun to see through people’s real colors and
when that happens then most likely that ship has sailed. Bon voyage.
My poor sister is such an angry and alcoholic
coward lead by her addictions that she can’t even pick up the telephone and
tell me that she’s betrothed (engaged.) Most of my sister’s boyfriends that
I’ve ever met had been heroin and cocaine users, alcoholics or drug addicts of
some type.
How do I know?
They’d been high as kites when I’d met them.
Pity. My sister didn’t attend our wedding either. Oh, why is my family so
hateful? Why is my family so dumb? Why is my family full of abusive cowards?
They owe me some serious apologies and I’m not holding my breath. Abusers very
rarely can humble themselves to admit that what they’ve done is wrong.
My mother and my sister are now like the two
women in the documentary “Grey Gardens.” They need each other in their sick
delusional games of grandeur. My sister feeds my mother’s delusions of being
the most beautiful woman alive while my mother looks away at the monster that
she created, her little alcoholic.
The last time that my sister visited us
(2009,) she could barely sit still without a drink for a few hours and pulled
out her tooth while in front of me once she got blitz. I almost passed out but
I held it together. I wasn’t sure what she was getting at.
I think that bullies are mentally ill people
who can disguise their hatred with other quite transparent behaviors and the
more they try to hide their behavior the more they become visible. They’re
great actors.
My dad says that anytime someone calls you
“crazy” or tries to make a diagnosis without ever meeting an individual then
that’s a hack, especially one who tends to generalize an entire sector of the
population. They’re doing that because they’re covering up their own craziness
and thus they’re the first ones to cast a stone your way because they’re afraid
to be found out as the most crazy of all in the bunch. He says that that
especially applies for mental-health therapists and medical doctors. He says to
be careful of them because they’re interests aren’t always the people, it’s a
business gone awry.
----- ----- -----
What does all of this have to do with
exercise?
Everything.
I love to walk and climb hills.
I love to be free in the fresh air.
Every time that an abuser has placed
themselves in my path I’ve done two things: prayed and exercised, gotten plenty
of sleep, drank water and ate well. Although I love sweets so I do have to keep
count of my daily calorie intake.
I believe in keeping myself between 150-160
pound-range because I carry some serious muscle mass. Right now I’m fighting an
excess of five pounds gained at Thanksgiving and no matter what I do I can’t
shake those pounds free from my little body. Oh, well. I’ll keep working on it.
No, not fat. Muscle. Do you know what muscle
means? Power and endurance.
Yes, I’ve got fat on my body but it’s
minimal.
I’m built like a stallion with a little bit
of fat. I like my fat. It’s saved me when I’ve starved in America as an adult.
When I exercise I can breathe out prayers to
the Gods. I can think of nothing except of what’s in front of me. It’s pure
poetry in motion. I can let go. I can be the bubbly and child-like me that I am
yet a strong and confident woman.
I can breathe.
The Gods see me and keep me from all harm.
I see the Gods in my every bead of sweat.
I smile at the life that is.
Don’t worry about me. Learn from my story.
I’m an adult. I’m a woman. I survived the life that was given to me with
tremendous love from so many other people.
Sincerely,
Gabriel
Join me on exercising 45 minutes per day
(Monday-Friday) for the next year. Drink plenty of water, eat fruits and
veggies, love yourselves as you would those that you love most and be kind to
your bodies, they deserve it after everything that your bodies do for you all
day long.
See you May 1st, 2013 or there
about.
Happy spring!
Peace. Love. Respect.
February 20, 2013
“Follow your dreams, work hard, practice and persevere. Make sure you
eat a variety of foods, get plenty of exercise and maintain a healthy
lifestyle.” - Sasha Cohen
“Depend upon yourself. Make your judgement trustworthy by trusting
it. You can develop good judgement as you do the muscles of your body - by judicious,
daily exercise. To be known as a man of sound judgement will be much in your
favor.” -
Grantland Rice
“I have never taken any exercise except sleeping and resting.” - Mark Twain
Happy Wednesday!
Aloha.
No Blog.
I ended up meeting many other
responsibilities before going on vacation. Tomorrow I’ll get around to blogging
about exercise and such before I shut down the blog for the next two-month
hiatus.
After tomorrow, I’ll be on vacation until May
1st, 2013 as I do every spring.
I’m wishing you a lovely night.
Its 11:00pm and the day got completely and
totally away from me.
Sincerely,
Gabriel
February 19, 2013
“A vacation is having nothing to do and all day to do it in.” - Robert Orben
“Laughter is an instant
vacation.” - Milton Berle
“I envy people who can just look at a sunset. I wonder how you can
shoot it. There is nothing more grotesque to me than a vacation.” - Dustin Hoffman
Happy Tuesday!
Aloha.
I’m relaxing in the cold weather.
I’ve got three novels going all at once.
It’s one of those tremendously insanely cold
Minnesota winter days and extremely sunny. I’m going to take the opportunity to
do absolutely nothing but to start a stew on the crock-pot (thank god we went
to the butcher’s last week,) maybe bake organic-gluten-free homemade bread and
read for hours, watch a film and curl up into a blanket, have some afternoon
tea and dunk British cookies into it. Ha! Glorious!
See you tomorrow.
I’m about to go on vacation this week through
May 1, 2013 or so. I can’t wait!
We’ll be filming flowers in Texas in the
month of April. Oh, I can’t wait to eat that glorious Mexican food and speak
Spanish all day long! Wonderful! How I’ve fallen in love with Texas even with
its tremendous overt racism. I feel like I can breathe there.
Ciao,
Gabriel
No Blog.
February 18, 2013
“If we can but prevent the government from wasting the labours of
the people, under the pretence of taking care of them, they must become happy.”
-Thomas Jefferson
“I never considered a difference of opinion in politics, in
religion, in philosophy, as cause for withdrawing from a friend.” - Thomas Jefferson
“Do you want to know who you are? Don't ask. Act! Action will
delineate and define you.” - Thomas
Jefferson
Happy Monday!
Happy Presidents’ Day!
Aloha.
No Blog.
February 15, 2013
“She’s a commodity in a sea
of broken girls.” - Lauren DeStefano
“I would go to
work on the show and I felt awful everyday, that's not the way it was. I felt
like some kind of prostitute or something. If I feel so bad, why keep on
showing up to this place? I'm going to Africa. The hardest thing to do is to be
true to yourself, especially when everybody is watching.” - Dave Chappelle
“I believe that sex is one of
the most beautiful, natural, wholesome things that money can buy.” -
Steve Martin
“Politics and prostitution
have to be the only jobs where inexperience is considered a virtue. In what
other profession would you brag about not knowing stuff? “I’m not one of those
fancy Harvard heart surgeons. I’m just an unlicensed plumber with a dream and
I’d like to cut your chest open.” The crowd cheers.” - Tina Fey
“Surely
the freedom of women must mean more to us than the freedom of pimps.” - Andrea Dworkin
---
--- ---
Word of the day: Substantiate (Verify, To establish as true, Put into concrete form)
You must substantiate the statements
you make. (Ha! Wonderful!)
---
--- ---
Happy Friday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Thank you, yes.
---
--- ---
Take it away Mr. Bill Maher. Good luck! Break
a leg!
Sincerely,
Gabriel
*) So much happened this week: This weekend
we’ll finally get to sit down and watch the State of the Union Address.
My father said that the president was
described as a “happy warrior.” My father can’t wait until we sit down and
watch it so that we may discuss it at length. That’ll be fun!
---
--- ---
*) How about those meteorites? Wow! Have you
seen the video in the news or online? It was spectacular!
Eric’s been keeping an eye on solar flares
and meteorites for the past seven years that I’ve known him and he’s kept an
eye on the skies ever since he’s been quite young. At one point Eric thought
about joining the NASA space program because he’s test scores were off the
charts, instead he went and studied archeology.
Eric was asked by the Navy to join their
Nuclear Power Program but he passed it up and instead went into archeology and
conducted digs in Israel, Egypt and the Middle East. How tremendous!
For years, Eric’s been talking about how Meteorologists need to start forecasting space weather. He’s
been right all along, especially when it comes to solar flares. it’d be nice to
know. Daily, we have to go and look up space weather on our own.
--- --- ---
*) Vivian Brown looked gorgeous on television this morning.
Whoever helped her out with her wardrobe (02/15/13) ought to get
high props. Really, Ms. Brown looked the most comfortable, classy, contemporary
professional for her field and extremely relaxed in her demeanor for the first
time in about a year or so.
Sometimes, it appears (as a viewer) that the clothes are wearing
her instead of Ms. Brown wearing the clothes. She looked absolutely perfectly
gorgeous this morning. She took my breath away.
Mo-o-o-re. Mo-o-o-re. Mo-o-o-re.
--- --- ---
*) I’ve been wondering lately as to why some contemporary modern
actresses are rushed to wardrobe-and-makeup but then they don’t seem to act?
Why is it that some contemporary actresses “play” a part but can’t act a role?
Isn’t it the queerest thing to see an actress play themselves in
everything? Yes.
When did acting become modeling?
Can anyone barely act anymore? Pity.
It’s a complete waste of the viewer’s time.
We don’t pay good money to go and see actresses play “dress-up,”
we pay good money to go and watch thespians act.
Hell, if we wanted to watch people play dress-up then we can
just go to…and watch for free. We ought to bring back the vegetable throwing of
the Shakespearean days. Ha! Now, that would get thespians, directors and
producers serious about their craft.
I’m being told that actresses are more-or-less treated as
“hangers” nowadays because they sell merchandise like perfumes and such;
they’ve lost their thespian authority and have entered the commodity realm,
mouthpieces for products and advertisers.
I guess actresses are not to be taken seriously because in
actuality they simply and only want to make a quick buck by selling you
deodorant, perfume and douche products. Actresses have now become commercial
whores not artists of their craft. Oh, how truly sad but they, too, want to
cash in and sell out like everybody else.
Are there any real artists left in the commercial world?
It appears as though actresses are treated more like
“dress-up-paper-dolls” than talented women who can actually provoke emotion in
a single human heart because what they have to portray on the screen is the
humanity for another’s perspective.
--- --- ---
*) Now, I don’t know anything about Minnie Driver.
I’ve neither met her nor am I going out of my way to do so, nor
have we ever been formally introduced. However, oh, my! From a mortal private
citizen’s point of view; she took my breath away when she went on “The Graham
Norton Show” January 28th, 2013 wearing a most elegant black,
floor-length dress.
She looked a gorgeous woman, a mother, a career woman who can
laugh at herself, be playful, mindful, inclusive of her peers and with a
relaxed modern flare she could tell anybody off if she had to. God, she looked
a modern, classical, rock star for the ages.
She was dressed in a refreshing demeanor especially in a vast
sea of so much mediocrity. Whoever put together her wardrobe, props to them!
--- --- ---
*) Nowadays, when televised vulgarity and ghetto / ‘hood’
soft-porn rap videos are pushed upon the masses it’s refreshing to hear and see
thespians be interviewed who can still uphold to class, style, sophistication
and humor combined without having to speak ghetto to supplement their fan base.
The most boring thing in the world is watching musical “hood”
hussies force their ghetto speech upon the masses simply because they’re
uneducated and they’re trying to get everybody else to lower to their
sub-standards by joining the common denominator of...
For as much as we talk about education in America, “our”
celebrities (as if) are all about “tits and ass” and “hoes” and have no clue as
to what on earth is happening to women and little girls on the ground.
No clue, whatsoever, and for that reason, alone, civilian women
don’t respect their contemporary celebrity sisters. Take a number, get in line.
“Celebrity-women” (if you can call them that) give civilian men
and women nothing to hope for except for more violence, more hatred and crappy,
mass media machine mediocrity.
When did mass media start making so much crap? (Rhetorical.)
It’s as though these women lost touch with reality.
With power comes great responsibility.
Otherwise, they’re worth nothing to women and little girls.
It seems as though they forgot, that, they did in fact were
supposed to uphold to a social contract.
Black ghetto producers tend to like to plunk girls from the
‘hood’ into the spotlight especially the ones who make their way through
casting couches and really can’t sing but pretend to. Girls from the ‘hood’
whose only ethical values and fears are centered around money and to make a
load of it at all costs while they leave the culture to starve for social
justice. Pity.
When you get uneducated people running mass media then you get
nothing in return because…they believe in nothing because the ‘hood’ teaches
them so.
There’s nothing more pitiful than selling mass culture on a
four-hundred million dollar average singing… who can get by on.... Nothing.
Once, one, has met prostitutes from the ‘hood’ and, one, gets to
see them, in their many disguises, no matter how expensive a woman’s attire may
be, once, she walks into a room you can see her for what she truly is, and, no
one, can tell you differently, because you know exactly what gives it away,
and, if you were to ask any prostitute their secrets, and they were to trust
you with them, then they’ll tell you what links an overpriced mass media
prostitute pretending to sing to a ‘hood’ prostitute actually working the
streets. (Don’t worry I won’t give it away.) It’s the best damn kept secret in
the world.
I
spent three years gathering research to make a documentary that I backed out
of; three years amongst ‘hood’ prostitutes, pimps and their children and don’t
think that I didn’t learn a thing or two about the ‘hood.’ I know people across
this great nation of ours that know me, we’ve broken
organic-gluten-free-homemade bread together and well, they’ve got my back
simply because we didn’t lie to each other and we saw each other face-to-face
as men and women, nothing more and nothing less. They taught me…we kept it
kosher and rules were respected, no one crossed boundaries.
They know it.
Mass media knows how badly they screwed up.
They know what they’ve done.
Because “No one makes an honest million.”
By the time, one has made four-hundred million then that
individual has raped and pillaged their way throughout the world with mediocrity
and a smile while they blow kisses to imaginary friends and shake their asses
because they have to find a way to hide what they truly are.
They know deep down inside that they’ll never be able to make it
up to the world for all of the mediocrity they’ve created and the destruction
they left in the wake of their path. Tragic figures of our times. Sh. I won’t
give it away. I promised that I wouldn’t say anything but you know that I’m
jumping up and down like a little kid holding a juicy secret back.
--- --- ---
*) I get it! To most of you this is old news, old hat. But to
someone who really has no clue as to why the hell this mass media machine lost
its way, well, it’s like sucking on a lollipop, sitting back and taking in the
circus except for the smell of poop.
Fun! When will the ballerina dancing hippos come out in their
tutus and dance for us?
--- --- ---
*) Recently within the past two-months I just discovered a
television show titled “The Graham Norton Show.” I had no clue how disgustingly
delicious the Brits were on tele until I saw this show.
American nightly shows are the same… every actor says the same thing; “She / he is so nice,” because their agents train them like monkeys as to what to say but in Britain they let loose and actually have opinions and thoughts of their own. Brilliant.
February 14, 2013
“Self-praise is for losers. Be a winner. Stand for something.
Always have class, and be humble.” -
John Madden
“There is only one class in the community that thinks more about
money than the rich, and that is the poor. The poor can think of nothing else.”
- Oscar Wilde
---
--- ---
Word of the day: Impunity (Exemption from punishment, Freedom from penalty)
He could do this with impunity.
---
--- ---
Happy Thursday!
Happy Valentine’s!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Thank you, yes.
---
--- ---
Earlier this afternoon I stopped to take
pictures of an amazing vista.
I took no more than about twelve photographs
and soon realized that they were all average; mediocre in fact.
On my final try I held the camera as steady
as I could, breathed in and held my breath as I felt the last photo come over
me. I realized how head-over-heels-in-love I am with the vista of downtown
Minneapolis and closed my eyes as I snapped the shutter. I exhaled and relaxed.
I opened up my eyes, took in another deep
breath and reviewed my work. Bingo! I held a million dollar shot in my hands.
How did I know? I was trained to take million dollar shots with pin-hole
cameras so I know how to take great photographs with just about any camera when
I get the alignments correct.
I turned off the inexpensive, average, small,
quite portable and light weight digital camera, turned around, looked to my
left to find a Caucasian man in his early fifties about five-five and
one-hundred-and-thirty pounds with a fancy and flashy camera around his neck
who came out from a natural clearing over a slight slope about less than fifty
meters from me.
I waved and smiled out of polite good sense.
We said our pleasantries about the weather.
----- ----- -----
I walked forward, towards the road, turned
right, up the street and stopped, took further photographs of trees fully covered
in fluffy snow. It was a photographer’s dream come true.
I heard the sounds of a train in the distance
and quickly made my way to the center of a bridge. There I stood and waited.
Shortly after the man and his fancy camera joined me on the bridge and we
waited patiently for some sign of a train coming by.
As we stood about three feet apart and
waited, the man shared some information about a public park on Medicine Lake as
a beautiful park to take photographs and you don’t have to worry about parking
because it’s open to the public.
While we stood facing the bridge, he shared
that he presently lives in Crystal, Minnesota.
I shared that we had just moved to
Robbinsdale within the past six months and that prior to that that we’d lived
in Uptown. He talked about how he had just recently this week on Tuesday gone
and taken photographs of Uptown but he hadn’t worn his boots and so he froze
quite a bit. He stated that he had taken incredible pictures of the sunset in
that neighborhood.
He spoke about his love for macro-photography
because it was a way to slow down and notice what others missed out on life.
I clumsily reiterated his point in English but fumbled through the
words because when I take photos I simply only think in the Spanish language.
I let the word “fotografia” escape from my
lips without intending it to do so.
Shyly he stated that he’d never learned to
speak Spanish while he lived abroad in Spain because all of the people who
worked at the facility already knew how to speak English and so he never took
the time to learn it. Pity.
He went on to talk about living and working
for the military overseas in Europe, particularly in Spain and in Greece and
that’s how he became interested in photography.
----- ----- -----
When I take photographs, I tend to turn off
my brain and forget about the English language.
It’s easier with all of the mathematics
involved to only think in one verbal language.
When I take photos I’ve got a lot of math to
do inside my head thus, there it is.
Photography is all about mathematics and
emotion, combined. When there’s serious mathematics involved then I tell my
brain to only think in one single verbal language interwoven with the universal
language of mathematics.
The romantic language of Spanish guides the
more artistic side of my personality while the systematic and conclusive
language of mathematics guides my logic. It’s pure poetry. My heart and brain
come together as one and dance to the rhythms of the visual realm creating
something called, photography.
If I were to think, almost simultaneously in English and in Spanish then I’d lose track
of what I’m doing step-by-step when it comes to the rules of composition which
by now comes to me second nature nevertheless I was trained to compose photographs
rather than to “feel a photo.” I actually do compose my photographs because
it’s all about mathematics, baby.
Art is mostly all mathematics, composition
and more complex mathematics then most people care to comprehend. So when
people say that they “feel” art I can’t help but get up and leave rooms. I know
better.
Mathematics to me is a universal language and
has no barriers or boundaries therefore I can think in only one language and
since Spanish is far more romantic than English I can feel the emotion of
photographs running through my conscience soul. I don’t expect you to
understand.
The English language sounds violent to me and
thus I don’t use it for photography, it’s too harsh a language.
----- ----- -----
Soon, we both realized that no train was to
come.
“I’m walking this way. Would you care to walk
with me?” I asked him.
I was making my way back to a parking lot
about less than two-hundred meters from where we stood.
“Have you been to Europe?” He asked.
I answered him that I had.
I told him that I’d been informed by many
people that it was better for artists to live in Europe because there the
culture really cared about their artists. I shared with him that I was an
independent artist and ought to have stayed in Europe simply because, there,
artists are far more appreciated than they are here in the states.
“It’s a way of life for many people.” He
piped in.
I felt linguistically clumsy and began to get
nervous that my English wasn’t up to par because it wasn’t. I stopped having
any fun and wanted the conversation to be over.
“Did you love taking pictures of Barcelona?”
I assumed that he had been there since he’d lived in Spain for several years.
He immediately stated that he hadn’t made the
time to visit Barcelona but that he liked taking pictures of buildings and that
Spain and Greece had been perfect places for him to do so.
As we walked, he shared that while he lived
in Spain that he had taken many pictures of buildings and at one point he was
able to take opportunity of a work group tour of a monastery which normally
monasteries are off limits to the general public but because of his work he had
the privilege to go and visit one.
He went into detail trying to explain to me
as to what a monastery was as though I were a child.
I quickly realized that he was gauging me
from his acute perspective.
He couldn’t conceive of the privileges,
those, which have been bestowed upon me in one single lifetime. I felt slightly
annoyed by our class differences. He assumed that I’d never seen a monastery in
my life. I almost burst into laughter but I didn’t instead I became even more
linguistically nervous about his cultural ignorance and biases.
He couldn’t remember where the monastery was,
that which he had visited.
I asked, “Was it in the French Pyrenees?” He
couldn’t remember.
He went on about something or other.
I got turned off and stopped listening to
anything he had to say.
As we came to the end of my walk, I made the
mistake to briefly reiterate about how life is easier on artists in Europe
because they’re more appreciated.
I realized as I spoke that I wasn’t
translating very well and that, what, I was saying was probably being misconstrued
as a complaint rather than as a deep observation for other cultures.
I said something to the effect that artists
did monetarily better in Europe.
“Then it’s time to go back to Europe.” He
said to me with a sarcastic dig as though I was some poor spick and knew
nothing about wealth.
Immediately I understood what type of a man
he was. He wasn’t much of one.
I took in a deep breath and decided not to
take him down on his knees. I decided to leave him as I had found him,
wandering, rather than turning him into a little boy because I was the better
of the two of us.
I disliked him very much in that moment
because the way he said it reminded me of every sarcastic and idiotic
Minnesotan poor-working-class Caucasian male friend pretending to be wealthy;
young inexperienced men who used to put me down without ever asking any
questions about my life, pretending like they were know-it-alls about wealth,
class and sophistication when they had none. They were poorly mediocre.
They knew nothing about me, like the fact
that when I get linguistically nervous I can’t translate very well and I come
across as a “green immigrant” who seems to know nothing about the ways of the
American lifestyle. As if.
I had nothing to prove to this man.
We said our goodbyes and I wished him “good
luck with everything.”
I wondered what I must seem like to a
Caucasian male in his fifties who obviously thought that he could get away with
treating me like I was some poor and idiotic little girl.
I was definitely annoyed and I could feel the
irritation swarm around me like buzzing bees. I hated that he smelled of dust
yet somehow the man with the fancy camera, circa 1992 implied that I was poorer
than he was, somehow.
I bet he didn’t even know what a million
dollar shot looked like. Now, I wish I would’ve asked him to see just one of
his pictures. It would’ve told me everything about his skill set level or not.
I get this type of irritating
middle-class-mediocre-classism from the working class quite often from
Caucasian people. They imply that they think of me as poorer than them when
they have no clue that I’ve sized them up far closer to their reality than they
have sized me up to mine.
What?
Am I supposed to wear jewels encrusted into my
forehead to be treated decently in this country?
Sometimes, I’m disgusted to live in America.
It all comes down to class divides but hardly
anyone knows what a…is. Ha!
Cheers!
Gabriel
P.S. I love Minnesota, but I get tired of…
February 13, 2013
“Friends can help each other. A true friend is someone who lets you
have total freedom to be yourself - and especially to feel. Or, not feel.
Whatever you happen to be feeling at the moment is fine with them. That's what
real love amounts to - letting a person be what he really is.” - Jim Morrison
“Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a
flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering.
As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning
and unquenchable.” - Bruce Lee
“Immature love says: 'I love you because I need you.' Mature love says 'I need you because I love you.'” - Erich Fromm
“Gravitation
is not responsible for people falling in love.” - Albert Einstein
“Absence diminishes mediocre passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans fires.” - Francois de La Rochefoucauld
---
--- ---
Word of the day: Stint (Restrain, Restrict, Deprive, to be sparing or frugal)
When the heirs learned of their inheritance,
they realized there was no longer any need to stint themselves on food.
---
--- ---
Happy Wednesday!
Happy Ash Wednesday!
Happy Chinese New Year’s on Sunday February
10, 2013!
(I’m not to wish you a Happy “Black History
Month” because our African-American brothers and sisters have informed me that
it’s the most insulting thing ever. Okay. As you wish.)
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Thank you, yes.
---
--- ---
No, I’m not literally dangerous.
Yes, I’m figuratively dangerous.
I’m a writer.
What do you think?
No, I’m not going to poke you in the eye with
a pencil.
Not even a little bit dangerous.
Ask the Chinese who know all about our snake
zodiac type. Ha! Funny!
Let’s get a few things correct: why are people so daft and literal when it
comes to storytelling and narrative?
If you literally believe that I’m dangerous
then you’re dumb.
When I write that I’m “intellectually
dangerous” I mean to embellish some literary altruistic alter-ego aspect of
myself. Why do you make me spell it out? Period.
Moving on.
Next.
How do I know that I’m not dangerous?
I know that I’m not dangerous because I’m
constantly looking out for the overall wellbeing of all those sharing a common
space. No, I don’t play hostess, cop or village idiot.
I’m me, relaxed, comfortable and I don’t
panic when the masses do. I know I’ve proven it. I was trained not to panic
when everybody else does and stampedes each other to death.
I’ve had enough medical and first responder
training to stop anyone from bleeding to death, cast a broken bone with twigs
or branches, suck out venom from poisoned human veins and if I had to then I
could get an injured body out of the woods. That’s what my expensive education
got me along with the liberal arts. Thank you very much.
I know what plants will kill you by sight in
different parts of the world.
I know what animals will hunt you down and
kill you before you’ve gotten the first whiff of them.
If I had to then I’d take on a mountain lion
because like hell if I’d ever run from one. Never run from a mountain lion.
They’re faster than any human and once you start running from one, then, well,
say your sweet “goodbyes” and “farewells.” Once you start running from a
mountain lion then you’ve really made yourself prey. Stand your ground, make
yourself as large as you can and if they pounce then be quite prepared to kill
with your bare fists or to be killed.
I’ve been taught how to save people from
drowning in water and ice, even though I’m a poor swimmer and refuse to go
anywhere near water without a lifejacket.
I’ve surfed in shark infested waters and
thankfully got to shore as quickly as I could. I’ve been taught to take on a shark
if I had to and thus I would, like, with a mountain lion, punch them in the eye
or on the snout but make sure you don’t miss, otherwise be quite prepared to
kill or to be killed.
I’ve been taught to save others from the
poison of jellyfish and the quickest and best way, is, to urinate on the
suckers, that, or deal with the poison.
I’ve been taught how to resuscitate others.
I’ve proven that when I’ve been injured with
horrible ankle sprains I’ve been able to get myself out of the woods by myself.
I once had a terrible skateboarding accident
and I proved all by myself that I can and will pop my arm / shoulder back into
its socket and I thought that I was... well, you know for those of you who’ve
gone through it.
I’ve saved myself from hyperthermia thus I
know I can save others from it.
I was taught by a German engineer and a
Native American biologist how to find kindling when the grass is wet in the
middle of heavy rainstorms and how to start a fire in the middle of a downpour.
Thank you. It saved my life.
I’ve come across bears, wolves and moose and
I’m thankful that I can walk quietly and be ignored by them. I’m thankful that
I’ve never been much of a threat to wildlife thus I respect them and they
respect me. Do you know what it’s like to be surrounded by thirty moose
(probably more, I lost track of my count) all at once? Well, I do. And, no, I’m
not bragging. It’s much, too, serious to brag about.
It was one of the most meaningful
awake-and-sober vision quests that I’ve ever had while surrounded by a herd
that didn’t even look at me twice. They just kept eating in peace and made
absolutely no threatening movements towards my way and I barely moved at all.
It was as though they welcomed me and I was
their invited guest for about an hour, one night at about twelve o’clock at
night. I was traveling alone by moonlight and no harm came to me. Thank you.
I felt the grace and the power of the gods. I
was twenty-two years old and I knew that if I lived through that then I might
grow to become an old woman.
I’ve made friendships with many wild and
domestic animals. They, too, have their language and yes, if you’re a great
listener then they’ll speak to you. Everything can communicate and sometimes
better than humans do.
No, I’m not literally dangerous.
I’ve proven to save closest family members
and strangers’ lives. No, I’m not bragging. It’s a fact. It happened and others
have been there to witness my autopilot responses. I’m no hero. I simply know
how to respond.
I don’t believe in murdering, killing or
getting even with anything.
I trust because I love.
I trust because I respect.
I trust because I know beauty.
My archenemies will tell you that I’ve gone
so far as allowing for them to touch me on the arms, hug me and kiss me in
public because they felt drawn and close to me even after they had committed
great injustices against me and my body.
Hell, even my enemies have fallen in love
with me and told me so and that’s why they continue to hate me because they
thought that they were going to be able to control me, but that’s another story
for another day. Plus, I’ve got a tendency to run away from…
Nevertheless, they know that even though I’m
not spiteful, however when I speak the truth, then, well, there it is.
I won’t censor myself or shy away from the
reality of what took place because then I’d be doing harm against others by
painting a rose-colored picture that isn’t true.
If you’ve been harmed then you’ve been harmed
and to me justice means being able to tell the truth of what happened without
shame to create balance amongst violent humans. That’s justice to me. I’m going
to tell you, once, and the rest is up to you.
I love tremendously, even my enemies. And,
just because they’ve been self-centered, egocentric, and greedy-bullies, that
doesn’t mean that I wish them any harm, on the contraire. I wish them safety
however they can’t get away with harming others as they have me because I stand
in their way by reminding them that what they’ve done was wrong.
I love like a child loves the sky.
I care about others because I understand
beauty, grace and respect; even when one complete stranger, a man, spit in my
face, once, or when strangers threw beer bottles at my friend and I, once, at
Lilith Fair. I’ve loved even then I could understand the hatred of others and
wished them no harm as they wished me.
I’m, too, educated and classy not to rise
above adversity.
Now, how; I can be perceived as a little bit
figuratively dangerous is when people are idiots and if others point it out by
saying something then I can’t help but laugh. I like to laugh and if
something’s stupid then I’ll laugh even at myself.
I’m figuratively dangerous in the sense that
I won’t make fun of you even if your ideas are stupid and you’re mean spirited.
I’ll let karma take care of you.
No, I won’t go out of my way to wipe your
rear end or to be your care-taker because that’s not my job nor do I care for
it to be my job, but I will learn, grow and develop from your
quasi-intellectual smarminess, sleaziness, double-standards and pure hatred of
my love for your insignificance.
I’m spectacular and I’ve proven it so; not
because I’m squeaky clean and shiny but because I’ve lived and survived through
the hatred of others and I can still find it in me to love.
I’ve risen, time-and-time, again, from the
ashes of my love with a smile on my face ready to make peace and not war. I
love. What more can I say?
Love.
Gabriel
February 12, 2013
“Sex is a part of nature. I go along with nature.” - Marilyn Monroe
“A sex symbol becomes a thing. I just hate to be a thing.” - Marilyn Monroe
“Anyone who knows anything of history knows that great social
changes are impossible without feminine upheaval. Social progress can be
measured exactly by the social position of the fair sex, the ugly ones
included.” - Karl Marx (Oh, my!
That’s hilarious!)
“There is more to sex appeal than just measurements. I don't need
a bedroom to prove my womanliness. I can convey just as much sex appeal,
picking apples off a tree or standing in the rain.” - Audrey Hepburn
“Sex is full of lies. The body tries to tell the truth. But, it's
usually too battered with rules to be heard, and bound with pretenses so it can
hardly move. We cripple ourselves with lies.” - Jim Morrison
---
--- ---
Word of the day: Stipple (Effect produced by separate touches, dab)
The stipple work on the walls produced
a pleasing effect.
---
--- ---
Happy Tuesday!
Happy Lincoln’s Birthday!
Happy Chinese New Year’s on Sunday February
10, 2013!
(I’m not to wish you a Happy “Black History
Month” because our African-American brothers and sisters have informed me that
it’s the most insulting thing ever. Okay. As you wish.)
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Thank you, yes.
---
--- ---
No, I’m not a prude.
As a matter of fact I’ve made it my business
to attend adult-nude beaches throughout various regional areas of the world.
I’ve been courageous enough to take a private photography series of
self-portraits in the nude for several years running. I’ve been asked by women
to privately take their portraits in the nude for their husbands and I’ve done
it with Ut-most respect for their bodies, their relationships and overcoming
issues with their bodies.
No, I don’t objectify other people’s bodies
while they suntan themselves because they don’t normally pretend to dance like
strippers at the beach while trying to sell others their latest record or album
for $6.99.
I love the contour lines of the human form.
I love nudity but not any type of nudity and
nothing cheap, that’s for certain.
I love the very poetry of the human
condition: with its very own flesh and bone.
I’ve studied the Kama Sutra, ancient Asian
and Persian texts about love, sex and orgasms. I’ve read erotica that’ll leave
you standing on end. Erotica that’ll make you want to touch yourself because
you won’t be able to help yourself. I’ve loved the very poetry of sensuality
and sexuality combined. I’m not afraid of sex, love, lust and desire.
Nope. I’m, too, mature an adult woman to be
afraid to talk about the subject of sex or to be a prude when it comes to
my-and-others’ sexuality and or sensuality in everyday real public places
rather than photography studios. Please.
I can talk about sex with the best of them.
Oh, wait, I have. Discussing the subject of sexuality is the last topic I’m
afraid to talk about.
I even went so far as to take “pornography”
classes at university simply to find out what on earth porn was all about. I studied
every genre of porn films ever made. Whatever. A prude. Go talk to your
grandmothers about the different genres of porn.
I’m not a puritan.
What?
Do I look like a block of cheese to you? As
if.
Simply because I’m a respectable woman and I
like to cover up my breasts, cleavage, buttocks, legs and crotch like the rest
of the 99% of women on the ground; am I to have my sexuality taken from me
because I don’t believe in cheap manufactured sexuality and sensuality selling
merchandise, products and shallow idealisms of a convoluted mass-media moronic
tendencies? Please.
Do I look like a log to you?
I don’t think so.
Does the very notion that I cover-up my
entire body make me a prude?
Then man has no idea the very poetic and raw
thoughts behind these brown eyes. What? Because I cover up; am I without
feeling or emotion for the very carnal and passionate aspects of what it means
to be human?
Who do you think you are? Nobody; if you
pretend to believe that a woman who covers up has no sensuality to speak of.
Simply because I’m trying to set a great
example and an excellent precedence for our youth; does that warrant me no
sexuality of my own?
How dare any man or commercial machine force
me into a one-dimensional definition of women’s sexuality? What would you know
about my sexual dreams, lusts and desires? What? Absolutely nothing.
I’m a contemporary woman. I understand the
very complexities that come from sexual desire, love, lust and orgasm. Please.
What do I look like a crocodile?
I don’t think so.
(You do realize that I’m laughing at this
point, don’t you?)
I simply don’t like to see one of the most
sacred aspects of life trashed and turned into cheap whorish selling points for
commercialism. It gets old and well, manufactured commercial sexuality and
sensuality leaves nothing up to the imagination. Please.
When commercialism displays everything:
Penises, “tits-and-ass,” then I get turned off because it’s as though the
commercial machine doesn’t trust that I can finish the visual sentences for
myself. I do just fine on my own, thank you.
When anything is overtly splashed across the
screen I do find myself turned off because I’d like to be a partial author in
filling in the blanks for myself. My mind can take things to places that the
advertisers haven’t even thought about such as…
I couldn’t be a photographer without being
completely in love with the body, all types of bodies. To be a photographer is
to be a contemporary painter who can see and understand the very complexities
before me.
Get it?
Yes, of course you do.
The thing that’s slimy about any celebrity
who places themselves on pedestals and gyrates their private body parts like
stripers is that they dare call it art as any hack would try to get away with
that crap.
Well, what’s slimy and creepy about these
creeps is that they don’t give a damn about contributing anything of worth
value to the nation at large. They don’t care if your children who idolize
their genitalia, live-or-die.
By the time someone’s made four-hundred
million dollars in their career before their death that person most likely has
emotionally raped and pillaged their way throughout the world. “Nobody makes an
honest million…”
Most likely what they care about, is that
your twelve year olds admire their genital so they can sell more products, to
make more money to rape and pillage more communities with their hack
merchandise. Celebrities are nothing but commodities peddling their crap to
anyone who’s ever so daft as to buy into their mediocrity.
I’m not a prude.
Just don’t sell us four-hundred million
dollar commercial whores and try to pass them off as entertainment royalty
because we can tell the difference in the bat of an eye lash.
If you’re going to sell us whores then just
do it but don’t disguise them as something worth our time other than to get
laid. Eat it! I, too, can talk-the-talk and walk-the-walk when it comes to the
subject of sex.
Thank god, I never became a performer
dangling my vagina before you like a carrot or I’d have you wanting to publicly
masturbate with yourselves right up against stages, but again I’m not a whore
pretending to be a performer. You have no idea how much more I’d love to burn
you right about now. On fire! It is the year of the snake.
Who are you calling a prude?
Careful. Now, I’m going to go and get my
taffeta out of my eighteenth century wardrobe that’ll cover me from
head-to-toe. I bite my thumb at thee.
Hell, if I can’t get you to look twice, when I
enter a space, even though I’m the quietest woman in a room and I’ve got
absolutely no desire to be the center-of-attention or to flirt with anyone and
I’m definitely not considered beautiful by social standards then what? Do I
have no sexuality or sensuality to speak of?
If I were to desire it then I can leave you
having wet dreams about my prudish taffeta clothing from head-to-toe because
sexuality and sensuality is all about the brain, the greatest sex organ ever
invented.
Thank god, I don’t write commercials or I’d
have you wrapped around some prudish wet dream from head-to-toe.
What would you know about being a prude? Ha!
Beautiful. Wonderful!
Go peddle your overt whorish crap someplace
else.
If you’re going to sell us sex, then it
better be something as good as a Picasso. Otherwise, our children aren’t for
sell. Get your stickin’ paws off of them.
With love;
Gabriel
*) Yes, I’ve met many celebrities and have
held deep and intimate discussions with them about their craft and life in
general. I’m not their subordinate. I haven’t ever taken money from them. I’ve
been ever so honored to hear what they’ve had to share in wisdom and they were
right because they were honest to the core.
No, I haven’t met too many musicians because…
when you’ve been surrounded by a world of film, one, tends to meet actors, by
chance, frankly. I don’t go out of my way to ever meet famous people. Why would
I? Nope.
When you stand in front of me, you begin to
realize that it’s very difficult to bullshit your way with me, even though I’m
relaxed in my demeanor.
I’ve only had one request by a famous person
to write to them and it’s taken me twelve years to get up the courage to do so.
Actually I’m going on my thirteenth year. I’ve sat down only once to write this
letter but nothing came to me so I stopped. I meant to say so many meaningful
and beautiful words as I had with my first hand-written letter but the words
haven’t come to me yet.
Being that they’re famous; I figure, that I’d
like to ask them to properly introduce me to another famous person (which I
have in mind,) if they can and are so willing to do so; that I may begin a
correspondence over the years with this one-and-only person I’d like to be
introduced to. That’s how I can get around my contract by initiating this first
letter that takes me back thirteen years however I’ve no idea as to where to
begin.
I’m, too, confidently shy to ask for what I
want, which, is wisdom. I’ve got a million questions and we never have to meet
in person.
However, I have yet to write this first
letter and the years are passing me by. I hope that another thirteen years
won’t go by but I seem to do things on the long-term rather than on the
short-term. I freeze. I stand still and quiet when…
February 11, 2013
“An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind.” - Mahatma Gandhi
“Imagine all the people living life in peace. You may say I'm a
dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us, and the world
will be as one.” - John Lennon
“Peace begins with a smile.” - Mother Teresa
“I believe in the religion of Islam. I believe in Allah and
peace.” - Muhammad Ali
“A peace is of the nature of a conquest; for then both parties
nobly are subdued, and neither party loser.” - William Shakespeare
---
--- ---
Word of the day: Strident (Shrill, Harsh, Grating)
A strident voice is very unpleasant.
---
--- ---
Happy Monday!
Happy Chinese New Year’s on Sunday February
10, 2013!
(I’m not to wish you a Happy “Black History
Month” because our African-American brothers and sisters have informed me that
it’s the most insulting thing ever. Okay. As you wish.)
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Thank you, yes.
---
--- ---
I’ve indeed changed my mind about drone
strikes.
Now, in times of war many different rules do
apply to the law.
Are we or aren’t we at war with an invisible
enemy? Who’s to say?
I’m not in favor of drone strikes anywhere in
the world because it leaves us with a huge ethical dilemma on our hands.
I don’t believe in making people out to be
“collateral damage.” That’s Nazi speech for the freedom to openly murder
civilians and get away with it.
I can handle ethical dilemmas however I can’t
handle the blood of innocent foreign civilians upon our American hands.
As of last week, the American people knew
“nothing” about drone strikes abroad in foreign countries such as Sudan,
Pakistan, Somalia, Yemen and Afghanistan.
I thought America was at war in Afghanistan as of today’s date
however what I didn’t realize is that America was officially at war in Iraq, Somalia, Pakistan and
Yemen (wink, wink.) I read. I keep up. Why is it up to us to take on the war on
terror?
I’m not sure what the international laws say
about conducting drone-strikes upon foreign territories if that’s where our
enemies reside. I think that according to international law that any “nation”
isn’t required to ask permission to go and hunt down their enemies. (I’d have
to look it up.)
Since 2002, 4,700 people have been murdered
or killed due to drone strikes abroad.
I don’t know what to tell you except that after much consideration and
thought I’ve decided neither to be brainwashed nor to be cowardly about being
anti-drone strikes.
There’s so much insult inside the rhetoric of
“collateral damage” that those words alone left me chilled to the bone. I can’t
condone blowing up innocent women, men and children. When I close my eyes and
think about those 4,700 humans and their body parts blown to pieces all I can
do is breathe and hope to the gods that…
There’s really no place for drone strikes in
the world. Why isn’t America making strides towards peace through diplomacy and
other aspects of negotiations? Why aren’t we?
America has been at continuous war for about
twelve years now. Don’t forget that America killed over one-million (1.2
million) Iraqis, alone. Oh, my! (That data was from July 2011.) When will
enough murdering be enough?
Call me a “peace activist” or anything you’d
like however, I’m not anyone to be categorized. I’m one
American-citizen-civilian who believes that these covert drone strikes will
catch up with us if we don’t protect the very rights of those civilians abroad.
I can’t stand by and justify the killing of
innocent foreign civilians and some Americans.
Since our government feels ever so compelled
to murder and kill innocent foreign civilians and American citizens, alike,
then what makes Americans think and believe that it won’t be done to us upon
our shores if the likes of Mr. Marco Rubio whose policies are no different than
those of Mitt Romney were to become president.
Mr. Marco Rubio’s policies are the same as
Mitt Romney’s and if he were ever so
lucky as to be voted into the role of presidency, then I can’t believe nor
trust enough in a man that votes against the Americans’ civil rights, that he’d
have our best interests at heart.
Imagine; if we the people were to go against
his wishes; who’s to say that Marco Rubio wouldn’t become greedy and crazed by
power? What would keep him and his lot from murdering American civilians and
citizens in their sleep? Nothing.
The very crazed, right-wing, neo-con,
extremists are lead by their evangelical dead-weight policies and their
outdated hatred of minorities.
“Actions speak louder than words” and since
Marco Rubio was bought up by his wayward and hateful “Tea Party” then well,
goodbye. There’s nothing more to be said for the candidates from the
contemporary Nazi party known as the “Tea party.”
No way. I don’t want to be gullible.
I refuse to be gullible and to allow for
others to murder in the name of god, to go saunter off and kill our innocent
brothers and sisters abroad.
I refuse to be brainwashed into believing
that these wayward and hateful Republican lunatics will do well by us because
the law is the law. As if.
So, which one is it?
Is it legal or not legal to kill and murder
Americans without surrender?
I’d like to know.
The reason as to why laws are made public is so
that citizens understand what laws they must abide by before getting blown to
pieces. Many Americans would like the courtesy of knowledge as to what the
legal laws of war represent or don’t.
For example; let’s say that the law stated
that it’s illegal to chew gum in public places, but we wouldn’t know that it
was illegal to chew gum in public places, thus if we were to get killed for
chewing gum, how were we supposed to know that it was supposedly illegal? Are
citizens to be mind-readers? How are we to follow laws that are hidden or kept
from view? None of it makes any sense.
I suppose I’ve got an apology to make from
Thursday’s blog, in-that, part of me does believe in drone strikes because I
want the war strategy of foot-soldiers to be eradicated from war. As a tactical
advancement to war I can understand having the upper hand against our
“invisible” enemies when it comes to drone strikes.
My apologies for being such a coward and not
standing up for what was right to begin with. Now, I’ve corrected my wrong
thinking about drones and that’s as heroic as it gets to go back and change
your mind to what’s right and not what’s fashionable for the times.
I head long into a head wind of rebuttals,
arguments and people getting pissed off at me for what I believe but I stand by
it and I shall not budge because I know the difference between right and wrong.
I refuse to believe in blowing up innocent
civilians abroad.
Part of me wonders what’s been brainwashed
into our culture to believe that the “invisible” enemy is everywhere and that
gives us the right to play by any set of rules that we make up to win a war
that’s already been lost.
So, does that mean that those, which, we
stereotype, such as young men in Yemen are our enemies even when they’ve given
us no reason to be against us? Does their youth make them automatic enemies of
the state and thus it’s condoned for them to be murdered in cold blood?
Oh, so it’s like racism in America. We
stereotype and profile our African-American young males and thus the color of
their skin makes them automatically enemies of the state.
Now, I understand many of the vast
complexities of war and how that changes everything, however I do believe in
decency and I don’t condone the murdering of humans, I never have and I never
will.
I changed my mind, because I realized how
ignorant I sounded.
Immediately when I wrote what I did on
Thursday. I understood that it was unjustifiable and wrong to use drone strikes
against those whom cannot defend themselves in villages. Period.
I wish that diplomacy and intelligence played
a larger role in this endless and mindless war that seems to have no end for
the Americans.
We’ve spent the last twelve years at war and
that’s gotten old.
No, this war has not created any domestic
revenue for the people.
The only people who got real rich from these
two wars have been the elite who left the rest of the populous to eat their
torn and worn-out shoes. Pity.
I thought we were a god fearing people.
A peace making people.
When will our leaders create peace?
Is that too much to ask?
What is it that the Taliban wants?
What is it that al Qaida wants?
What do they want?
Supreme power?
Well, that’s never going to happen.
Only Allah has supreme power over men.
Men are to make peace, not war.
Peace.
Gabriel
*) I’ve fallen in love with “Astronaut Wife”
and their song, “Super Powers.” I guess they’re local. Who knew? I thought they
were from…
*) Oh, I’ll miss “Young Justice” and “Green
Lantern.” They were truly my favorites. What will I watch Saturday mornings?
Oh, my! Why is it, that execs have no clue when something is golden? It’s
because they’re suits not producers of content. (sigh.)
*) Oh, have you been watching “Clone Wars:
Star Wars.” It’s so darn good. It’s gotten better and better with each passing
year. The characters’ hair moves nowadays! Remarkable. Ha! Lovely. Thank you!!!
*) Oh, I hear that people hate the new toys
coming out at “toy-fair” this week because they’re cheaply made and instead of
making actions figures “five-point articulated,” now action figures are made
like little glass figurines that don’t move or bend a lick.
How are we supposed to complete our
stop-motion film if the suckers don’t move? There goes six years of filming
down the drain. Pity.
Who’s putting these nitwitted execs in
charge? Why don’t they have any clue as to people like or don’t like?
February 8, 2013
“Racism isn't born, folks, it's taught. I have a two-year-old son.
You know what he hates? Naps! End of list.” - Denis Leary
“Homophobia is like racism and anti-Semitism and other forms of
bigotry in that it seeks to dehumanize a large group of people, to deny their
humanity, their dignity and personhood. -
Correta Scott King
“Racism is still with us. But it is up to us to prepare our
children for what they have to meet, and, hopefully, we shall overcome.” - Rosa Parks
“Sometimes I feel like rap music is almost the key to stopping
racism.” - Eminem
“Racism springs from the lie that certain human beings are less
than fully human. It's a self-centered falsehood that corrupts our minds into
believing we are right to treat others as we would not want to be treated.” - Alveda King
“People know about the Klan and the overt racism, but the killing
of one's soul little by little, day after day, is a lot worse than someone
coming in your house and lynching you.” -
Samuel L. Jackson
---
--- ---
Word of the day: Immutable (Unchangeable, Fixed)
The law of Gods is immutable.
---
--- ---
Happy Friday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Thank you, yes.
---
--- ---
Take it away Mr. Bill Maher. Good Luck! Break
a leg!
Sincerely,
Gabriel
*) A
few cultural notes:
I’m not sure as to how exactly to respond to
the “Black” family (their surname is “Black”) who felt that they had been
racially discriminated by a ‘white rabbit’ character at Disneyland in
California summer of 2012 by getting dismissed. (Ooh, that’s a tough one to
prove but it happens.)
First, it’s been explained to me by many
“black Americans” that they’ll sue anybody at any chance they get because it’s
a great way to make a quick buck without having to work for it.
Those aren’t my words: those are the words of
many of the members of the black communities who’ve disclosed that they’ll sue
over any little thing. How true? I don’t know?
I can only imagine that hiring a lawyer and
paying legal fees is a great deal of money, time and energy.
Second, the first question that came to mind
was this: how will parents teach their children about handling racism in a
mature fashion if they go and sue rather than make it a “teachable moment?”
I can only imagine that if one were to sue
then children would learn that by suing others, then one is granted
“quasi-justice” but we all know that that’s the wrong lesson to learn.
Suing won’t gap this racist cultural divide.
Suing is a form of revenge but not any real
deep sense of justice.
What I mean to say is this: There’s racism
everywhere in the world and if our elders don’t teach us to grow a thicker skin
at direct-or-indirect racism then what? Then, people won’t be able to go to
grocery stores and get through life because everything will become a sensitive
issue?
I’ve been discriminated and racially hated
upon on a weekly basis by all sorts of races and you won’t catch me crying
about it because it’s not my crap, it’s theirs. It’s their ignorance, their
belligerence, their self-hatred. It belongs to them, not me.
I’ve been greatly dismissed, discriminated,
racially-hated and abused by different African American communities and you
won’t see me suing them over spilt milk because I know that racial prejudice,
racial preference, cold racism and discrimination has more to do with the other
person’s insecurities than it does with me. Annoying as hell but, hey, what are
we going to do in an uneducated culture?
If you hate me because I’m the way that I
look then that’s your stupidity not mine.
I’d rather that someone called me a “nigger”
to my face, oh, wait, I have; then have anyone treat me like one because then
we’re really on an even playing field.
Our actions will speak for us, not our words.
And, because, I’m smart-enough I can mock
haters without having them realize that I’d just left them castrated. “Kill
them with kindness.”
I’m an intellectually “dangerous” person to
be with in a room --if I get racially-belittled then it won’t hit you until
about a year later that I took your manhood or womanhood and never once did I
lead-on that I was being condescending or patronizing.
Once you figure out what I did to you then
you’ll never be the same person again. The diplomats taught me those tactics. I
don’t do it often, but when I do, oh, I’m spiritually gutting them from the
inside, out. I’ve got more power than people like to acknowledge. Prestige is
the surrogate sister to her brother, power.
If people (in general) are cowards and
pretend not to be racist yet they “cry wolf” at every little thing that comes
along the way then it tells you a lot about their double standards.
I’ve rarely come across “black Americans”
that aren’t racist in some form or another and show it, unless... but that’s
rare.
I’ve come across some of the most brutally
racist black people who love to dismiss others yet if one were to dismiss them
then they call foul play. That type of double standard is a tricky one to
contend with because I’ve sensed that they’ve known better. They know that it’s
improper and incorrect to treat others badly, yet, they try to get away with
acting as though they, themselves are the victims of the same racist actions
they perpetuate. Pity.
Don’t get me wrong I, personally, love many
black American people and they love me. We have one great grace in common,
respect.
Some of the most dismissively rude people
I’ve ever come across have been African-American blacks. So what gives? Many
lie, many are entitled, many are rude and many can’t speak their first language,
properly, English. Please. Why the double standard? They want to be treated
well but they refuse to treat others well.
I was taught to treat everyone with respect
and I’ve done so even though others haven’t always treated me with respect.
When we learn to have real confidence in ourselves instead of smug-confidence
or fake-confidence then we begin to understand the other and then we’re no
longer victims to the other’s self-loathing. We begin to break up the cycle of
racist discrimination.
Third, who knows? Maybe, the family smelled
bad and they turned off the character of the ‘white rabbit.’
I don’t mean any disrespect or offense but
I’ve been around enough African-American black folks; to wonder as to why they
smell like…
It could be debated that it’s these folks’
diet but after seven years and two documentary films later I came to find out
that many of our black brothers and sisters don’t smell very well because they
don’t launder their clothes very often even if the clothes look “clean” the
smell will want to send you aback no matter how inclusive you are about race
related issues and people. If people’s clothes smell bad then one doesn’t want
to touch them. Why would one? One wouldn’t. Period.
Racism is tricky, but we can’t allow
ourselves to feel so abused by the ignorance of others. Who knows? Maybe the
‘white rabbit’ felt used, or dismissed, themselves. My father used to say, “Be
careful to be too quick to judge. You never know what other people are going
through.”
*) I’m not sure as to how exactly to respond
to the two St. Paul police officers caught on camera wearing Muslim female
garb: Hijabs; to two Halloween Parties.
Now, we all know why it’s racially
insensitive: Right? Right.
I only have one devil advocate’s question: In
their own “private” time are officers able to do as they wish?
I mean, so long as they don’t “harm” others
can they dress in Hijabs and attend “private” parties without raising any
questions?
For example, for example: what if these two officers were into personal
and quite “private” adult Sado-masochism sexual preferences?
And then photos were distributed throughout
the internet?
Isn’t that their right to do as they please
on their own “private” time? (Tongue in cheek.) It raises a few good arguments,
doesn’t it?
Okay.
Frankly, hypothetically if I were in the
position to fire them both then I would’ve, immediately, because their behavior
is a representation of a deeper and more disturbing aspect of their throwback
misconduct.
I wouldn’t want them on my team for anything.
I expect more from people. Those aren’t men, those are snot-nosed idiotic
little boys that require time to grow into their body parts. How embarrassing
for them to be so ignorant. Frankly, I almost feel pity for them and the fact that
they got stuck in the year 1990.
There ought to be zero tolerance policy when
it comes to that type of crap.
Can you imagine how racially-insensitive
those two cops are? What’s next?
Will they take it upon themselves to go so
far as to grope women’s breasts or finger-f*** women’s vagina’s while
conducting a search and frisk?
I wouldn’t trust them for anything in the
world. No way. Those two cops are like two social-ticking-time bombs waiting to
go off.
Oh, I’m so disgusted by their misconduct.
I’m thoroughly disgusted by their lack of
understanding of a modern world. Whatever barn they came from send them back.
Those aren’t sophisticated urbanites. Those are little pigs without any sense
of cultural awareness of today’s world. Ah!
Hello! Welcome to the 21st
century. Get your heads out of your rear ends and join the rest of us. Wow! And
cops wonder why people don’t trust them. Double standards are the quickest way
to lose public trust.
I’m pretty laid back about many things, but to
have these two police officers try to get away with such misconduct is a great
way to convey that they have absolutely no respect towards the racial diversity
going on in their city. To have grown men not have their wits intact is a great
way to have them lose all sight about protecting the rights of others.
What more is there to say about nothing:
Nothing.
*) Moving on:
*) Corrections were made throughout the week:
I’m not here on most weekends unless I receive a lot of email with complaints
to justify or explain myself immediately.
I’m exhausted and look forward to champagne
and doing absolutely nothing. I don’t like to work on weekends no matter what.
As a matter of fact I hate moving off of the couch for any reason at all unless
I must.
*) My ancestor who was the first settler to
one of the earliest New England colonies in the year 1690 was born circa 1645
in Sheffield, Yorkshire, UK and died June 22, 1724 in ________, U.S.
Occupation: Woodsman.
*) I’ve been informed that his earlier
lineage comes from Somerset, UK. I’ve yet to pin down facts about…
*) Wishing you an amazing weekend. We look
forward to our weekend.
*) It was a full week, especially with “Mr.
famous” not liking the spots for the Grammys. Ha! He has no idea that I know… I
won’t be watching the Grammys. I’ve had enough of them as of this week and I
don’t even know what the Grammys are.
February 7, 2013
“Good politics starts with empathy, proceeds to analysis, then sets
out values and establishes the vision, before getting to the nitty-gritty of
policy solutions.” - David Miliband
“Women are, in my view, natural peacemakers. As givers and
nurturers of life, through their focus on human relationships and their
engagement with the demanding work of raising children and protecting family
life, they develop a deep sense of empathy that cuts through to underlying
human realities.” - Daisaku Ikeda
“Normal people have an incredible lack of empathy. They have good
emotional empathy, but they don't have much empathy for the autistic kid who is
screaming at the baseball game because he can't stand the sensory overload. Or
the autistic kid having a meltdown in the school cafeteria because there's too
much stimulation.” - Temple Grandin
“I don't mean to criticize anyone in any way that I wouldn't
criticize myself. I think people should have fun, and have a good time, and
enjoy the luck that we have to be lazy and dwell in consumerism. But I think
that it's a balance. And our job as actors is empathy.” - Natalie Portman
---
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Word of the day: Impalpable (So fine as to be not easily perceived or felt)
His pulse was impalpable but the
doctor did not give up.
---
--- ---
Happy Thursday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Thank you, yes.
Wow! The week is disappearing before my eyes.
Oh my! How fast the days go by.
---
--- ---
Okay, let’s address aircraft drone strikes.
Drones: A powered,
aerial vehicle that does not carry a human operator, uses aerodynamic forces to
provide vehicle lift, can fly autonomously or be piloted remotely.
If indeed as the 2012 polls have shown that
80% of the American people are more than alright with drones as a war strategy
then so am I, however I don’t condone “collateral damage.”
I’m not okay with the killing and murdering
of innocent bystanders of war such as the 4,700 some people killed since 2002 which our American government
has killed by drone strikes in Afghanistan and Pakistan (I’ll have to look up
Pakistan to see it that’s correct information.)
Before many of the Korean war veterans of the
United States of America passed away many spoke about the unnecessary need to
place troops on the ground and they knew it then and we know it now that
sending foot soldiers off to into battle is like sending cattle off to the
slaughterhouses.
I’m glad that technology is offering us the
alternative abilities and capabilities to go to war without placing troops on
the ground.
I’ve been thinking about this type of
technology since I was fifteen years old. I have. Nevertheless, when it comes
to innocent bystanders of war, considered as “collateral damage” I think, ‘Oh,
my! Have we become a nation of psychopaths without empathy for others?’
Hypothetically: If drone strikes were to drop
bombs on our Minneapolis, Los Angeles, Chicago, Kettle River, Springfield, St. Louis, Maimi, San Antonio, Phoenix, New York City,
Seattle and Boston then holy cow! There would be holy terror and we’d want
bloodshed, wouldn’t we? Yes, we would, indeed.
Why are other nations any different from
ours?
They aren’t. They love their beloved ones as
much as we do ours and they, too, grieve the tremendous loss of their loved
ones, destroyed neighborhoods and bloodshed spilled upon their streets and
villages.
What makes other foreign countries and their
citizens any less in worth and value than us?
Nothing! They, too, take a great deal of
pride in their people. They, too, have hopes, aspirations and dreams for a
better and more peaceful future.
As Americans we must not lose sight of our
empathy, our caring nature for others simply because our government no longer
looks to its people for leadership and voiced opinions about war. Oh, of
course, the taxpayer “foots the bill” for the defense budget and Homeland Security
yet the people have no say about how those dollars are spent and what happens
when it comes to the reality of bridging foreign cultural gaps.
I understand the vast complexities of foreign
militia, militants, tyrants, conquerors, rulers and black market corruption
sometimes being the only mode of generated currency or markets in any given
nation whose industries are collapsed or none are in existence.
I get it that genocide occurs by many groups
in foreign lands who preach their love for their people yet they murder their
people in cold blood for profit.
I get it that violence generates a great deal
of corruption in power and puts currency into the pockets of a few while
murdering their people in cold blood because these corrupt officials have no
allegiance to their nations, states and peoples.
I’ve been quite aware that our military
personnel commits daily-suicide because suicide seems like a “better” and more
desperate-alternative to war, however, I’ve also been hearing the rumors that
our military personnel are pumped full of anti-depressants and are used as some
type of lab-rat guinea pig experimentations no different than the Nazis did to
their captors who were used for torturous medical experimentations.
Per day, we lose about 22 military personnel
troops to suicide.
Isn’t that a bit strange? Isn’t that a bit
queer, indeed?
With all due respect I’d place civilian
non-pharmaceutical bought-up or governmental psychiatrists and psychologists in
there to look at the data, information and study the situation because the
situation is dire, indeed.
If those numbers doesn’t raise some serious
cause for alarm then I don’t know what will?
Isn’t it queer that 19,000 of our female
troops are raped by our boys?
Isn’t that a bit strange? Isn’t that a bit
queer, indeed?
Isn’t it queer that about 4,700 civilians in
Afghanistan have been killed by air strike drones since 2002? Isn’t that a bit
strange? Isn’t that a bit queer, indeed?
I don’t know anything.
I only have many more questions.
Rumors are just that. Rumors.
Nevertheless, when one hears the same rumors
circulating about from so many different pockets of demographics across the
nation then it raises questions about what may or may not be happening.
Peace,
Gabriel
*) No, bereavement isn’t a form of depression
and neither is physical chronic pain from what’s been explained to me by
medical experts.
Question everything!!!
Especially the psychological and psychiatric
fields that went from a science of anthropological study considered as the
study of human behavior into turning themselves into pseudo-Demigods. Shame.
The industry of psychiatry has become no different than that of a fishmonger’s
shop. Of course they want you to step right inside and buy their fish. Profit.
Remember: up until the 1970’s the psychiatric
field believed that homosexuality was a mental illness and a dire disorder.
Also, women who wanted to wear pants were institutionalized in the 1940’s. The psychiatric
field gets many things wrong because it’s made up of people who are fallible
just as much or as little as you and I are.
*) No, I don’t hate Ms. Knowles-Carter,
however I don’t believe that she’s contributed anything of great value to the
society at large because entertainment isn’t a value it’s a pursuit, amusement,
hobby, diversion, distraction, leisure, activity.
*) No, I’ve got no idea who “Lady Gaga” or
the “Jonas Brothers” are? I’ll look them up.
It’s been explained to me that twelve-year-olds
are into them as well as into Ms. Knowles-Carter or so the media experts of our
times see it as such and analyze it as so.
Twelve-year olds are also into football
players and that’s about it.
Its little kids who keep them in business.
Oh, that’s hilarious!
Oh, little kids are the ones that like these
entertainers. Oh, I get it.
That explains a lot about who they portray
themselves to be or don’t.
If little kids are the ones that keep
entertainers in business then shouldn’t they wear more clothes because it’s
little kids that are looking at their genitalia?
Could you imagine having twelve-year olds
admire any entertainers’ genitalia? Creepy. What a queer little culture.
*) No, I don’t hate celebrities and
entertainers.
I’m sorry but I just don’t care that much
about them. They can and do give a writer a considerable amount of material to
write about when one has nothing much to write about on certain given rainy
days. Ha! I think they’re cute like…
Under contract: I’m not to get intimately acquainted with
celebrities or entertainers so I don’t really take any interest in them unless
others bring them to my attention for research otherwise, I’ve got way more
important things to do with my time.
I’m not a “yes” person so they’d probably hate
holding any type of discussion with me. I’ve got more questions for them then
they’ll ever know.
I’m being informed that I sometimes do stand
about a foot away from celebrities while in rooms and that I’m completely
clueless as to who they are or what they even look like. Sometimes I’ve asked
them if they were supposed to be there because I’ve mistaken them for the work
crew. Sorry guys! Don’t hate me because I read books!
If celebrities and I were ever to be
acquainted and happened to strike-up a conversation and hang-out then we could
while in public however as of this year I signed on-the-dotted-line that I
wouldn’t pursue or hold relationships to celebrities or undertake in
any…whatsoever because our investors for the next fifty years don’t want me to
get veered off course from my work. So there you have it.
No celebrities or entertainers for Gabriel to
play with. Smiles. A little joke. Peace. I must write and work and that’s that.
I do wonder when I’ll get to-go-out and play. After I write a first great
American novel or a mind blowing screenplay? Who knows? I guess I’m a worker of
the people, by the people, for the people. I might as well be a public servant
except that I’m still a private citizen. Whew!
Tongue in cheek: Plus, “blue bloods” must first be formally
introduced or we don’t go out of our way to make any type of introductions, why
would we? Too many…out there… Ha! Don’t hate me for being an old world fashion
snob. I hold the highest form of any social card that trumps all other cards
and it’s too bad that I’m an INFJ who enjoys my alone time otherwise imagine
how much fun socializing would be. Imagine! (Ha! Don’t take it too seriously
but do. No, money or fame has nothing to do with class.)
And please for the love of god don’t
introduce me to anymore psychopaths. I’ve had my fill of them for one lifetime.
I live for the empathy, grace and beauty of others no matter how much of a
disciplinarian I may be. I just do. Why wouldn’t I? I’ve got nothing to lose,
not this time anyway. All of my cards are on the table and I’m smiling.
Actually, I’m laughing.
*) Yes, the fifteen-thousand from last week
got donated into a private fund. It’s no longer in our hands so please don’t
have any wayward misconceptions about that. Have you ever donated
fifteen-thousand dollars into any fund? Exhilarating and humbling all at the
same time. Oh, well no Prada for me this season. Ha!!! A joke. A joke.
February 6, 2013
“The opposite of anger is not calmness, its empathy.” - Mehmet Oz
“If your emotional abilities aren't in hand, if you don't have
self-awareness, if you are not able to manage your distressing emotions, if you
can't have empathy and have effective relationships, then no matter how smart
you are, you are not going to get very far.” -
Daniel Goleman
“Traits like humility, courage, and empathy are easily overlooked -
but it's immensely important to find them in your closest relationships.” - Laura Linney
“When men attempt bold gestures, generally it's considered romantic.
When women do it, it's often considered desperate or psycho.” - Sarah Jessica Parker
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--- ---
Word of the day: Importune (To request urgency, Urge persistently, Ask)
The wounded soldiers piteously importune
their captors for fresh water.
--- --- ---
Happy Wednesday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Thank you, yes.
---
--- ---
I
find it absolutely queer that the right-wing, neo-con extremists of the
Republican Party feel so out of control and out-of-touch with the people to go
so far as to take away constitutional reproductive rights from women and to
torture women.
No, I don’t take the word “torture” lightly.
Yes, I meant to write the word “torture.”
Torture: The action or practice of inflicting severe
pain on someone as a punishment or in order to force them to do or say
something.
When the republican right-wing, neo-con
extremists take it upon themselves to campaign against women’s constitutional
rights then it’s evident that this political branch of the Republican Party is
out-of-control and in order to regain any type of quasi-control and
pseudo-power then they act upon some sort of deep sense of neurotic privilege
to crush women’s rights by raping the constitutional rights of the American
women.
These
cowards hate American women with a passion because they hate themselves and
they hate themselves because the American public knows exactly what they are,
cowards, peddlers of hatred and sinners ready to cast the first stone to cover
up their own sins because many like to sleep with underage prostitutes in
foreign countries.
When the republican right-wing, neo-con
extremists take it upon themselves to campaign against women’s constitutional
rights then it becomes evident that this political party in general hates women
because they perceive women as second class citizens.
To gain power by disempowering those who
struggle to maintain their liberties, freedoms and civil rights intact is to
show the world what a coward the oppressor truly is without having to come out
and say anything.
What the republican right-wing, neo-con
extremists don’t understand about this great nation of ours is that we moved
on, we evolved and we learnt to become a body of thinking citizens who have
rights no matter how much the republican extremists may mutter to themselves
like psychopaths that, we don’t. We do have rights.
Psychopath: A person suffering from
chronic mental disorder with abnormal or violent social behavior.
No matter what type of psychopaths the
republican extremists become, we know better.
We The People have rights because my forbearers in my family stood-up in
court at the “Salem Witch Trials” and fought against the discrimination of
women and witch hunts of that time.
My forbearers fought psychopaths of their
times as We The People fight the psychopaths of our times, the Tea Party
Republicans whose rhetoric boldly stands for the killing and electrocuting of
our Mexican brothers and sisters at the border.
The psychopaths of our time such as the
republican right-wing, neo-con extremists want to “witch hunt” American women’s
constitutional reproductive rights and burn women, alive, at the stake because
they hate with-the-hatred of devils disguised as angels, yet again angels are
considered to be devils in theological terms. Weird, ha?
It’s evident and clear to sense how much
republican right-wing, neo-con extremists are haters of women, minorities and
others simply by the policies they want to pass in Congress.
These are the haters of the world with their
rhetoric about electrocuting and murdering our Mexican brothers and sisters at
the border with an electric fence.
Can you imagine being considered any type of
leader with that type of violent rhetoric?
That type of murderous rhetoric ought to get
these republican-extremists assessed for serious psychoanalysis.
I wonder if they realize that-that type of
rhetoric is what the Nazis believed? The Nazis were all about physical, mental,
psychological and emotional torture of their people and others.
For the republican right wing, neo-conservative
extremists to pass laws that enforce women to have vaginal probing prior to an
abortion ought to be considered torture, especially when it’s not necessary.
I propose a law that when any
republican-extremist psychopaths are willing to “lobby” for the torture of
women then they ought to have an anal probing examination of their own just to
see how they like it.
I propose a law that when any
republican-extremist psychopaths are willing to “lobby” for the
electrocuting-torture of our immigrants then they ought to have their genitals
electrocuted just to see how they like it.
Anyone who proposes or lobbies for laws that
will torture others is then a Nazi.
Why would they do that? What gives?
Americans, please don’t listen to these blood
thirsty republican-extremist psychopaths who have no empathy for others.
Didn’t Jesus instruct us to love our brothers
and sisters?
The abortion law will stay as it is at
20-weeks.
It will not be moved to 6-weeks because at 6-weeks
a woman doesn’t even know if she has tissue developing in her body or not.
Silly rabbits!
Why do you hate women so much?
If our American ignorance doesn’t allow for
our women to make choices about their bodies then women will take it upon themselves
to conduct their own abortions, and could you imagine losing your beloved ones
because you’re stubborn, pig-headed and righteously wrong.
What would religion know about abortion?
The Roman Catholic Church has been raping
little boys since the third century. Let’s all get over our religious righteous
indignations. Welcome to the 21st century.
Sincerely,
Gabriel
*) Yes, my
grandmother’s family owned the largest fishery in America and the only
paint company in the country at that time in the 1750’s-1850’s and practically
killed off the entire wildlife off of the shores of Cape Cod, Gloucester and
Rockport, Massachusetts. My grandmother’s family held many respectable sea
captains in the early-to-mid 1850’s.
The cod wildlife requires time to heal because
we’ve been pillaging and raping our brother the ocean for over four hundred
years. Enough is enough. I know exactly what took place with that embarrassing
and cruel history in our nation.
If you want cod then start farming it.
Peace.
The truth is so painful sometimes, isn’t it?
I don’t have a single penny from the
murdering of that sea life.
Don’t look at me.
I didn’t inherit one single penny from that
pillaging and killing.
*) Yes, I, too, am related to the _________.
I actually know and love them and will until the day I die.
*) Oh, how I was looking forward to playing a
little golf at the Theo Wirth golf course come this warm season, but it’s not
going to be around? Is that right? I’ll have to do some more research. Bummer.
I grew up attending exclusive and private golf clubs on the Eastern Sea Board.
It’s about the only thing that makes sense to me as far as…
I ought to make shrimp for dinner tonight.
Oh, I could go for Baltimore crab right about
now with a martini.
I’m looking for a “killer” martini in this
Minneapolis town. I really shouldn’t say anything about it because I’m
hibernating and working out of our / “my” “home-study” this winter and refuse
to go anywhere but downtown Minneapolis.
February 5, 2013
“I started being really proud of the fact that I was gay even
though I wasn't.” - Kurt Cobain
“We
need somebody who's got the heart, the empathy, to recognize what it's like to
be a young teenage mom, the empathy to understand what it's like to be poor or
African-American or gay or disabled or old - and that's the criterion by which
I'll be selecting my judges.” -
President Barack Obama
“Everyone
has people in their lives that are gay, lesbian or transgender or bisexual.
They may not want to admit it, but I guarantee they know somebody.” - Billie Jean King
“Let's make a law that gay people can have birthdays, but straight
people get more cake - you know, to send the right message to kids.” - Bill Maher
“We had gay burglars the other night. They broke in and rearranged
the furniture.” - Robin Williams
---
--- ---
Word of the day: Impregnable (Unconquerable, Unyielding, Not to be entered)
This port was built so well that it is impregnable.
---
--- ---
Happy Tuesday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Thank you, yes.
---
--- ---
Okay. Let’s get a few things straight about
current modern history:
In the years of 1990-1991 Generation X was in
seventh and eighth grade and we were defending our GLBTA schoolmates, friends
and acquaintances from getting the crap beaten out of them and helping them
escape the violent lunacy of jocks and football players and the likes of that
time. And don’t you ever forget it.
Where were the Millenials?
They were in kindergarten picking their
noses.
In the years of 1996-1997 Generation X were
freshmen and sophomores in college and we were defending the Civil Rights of
our GLBTA schoolmates, friends and acquaintances from getting the crap beaten
out of them by congress and we helped organize parades, marches and non-violent
peaceful demonstrations all over this nation. And don’t you ever forget it.
Where were the Millenials?
They were in seventh grade picking the
underwear out of their arses.
If you don’t know or understand the modern history
of GLBTA and the Civil Rights movement that took place in the years from
1990-2000 in America and prior to that starting with the MTV Generation of the
1980’s then you’re daft and ought to be quiet about...
We, Generation X are a generation that understands
the plights of our GBLTA brothers and sisters.
People that we loved ended-up committing
suicide or were murdered because of their secrets and quite personal private
sexual preferences. We’ll never forget those that we lost in battle and don’t
you bloody forget it either.
We lost kind-spirited and amazing people in
this battle towards their freedoms, liberties and rights.
I won’t ever be able to speak about those
that we lost. What you must understand is that we lost our dearest and beloved
ones along the way, in the trenches and don’t you ever bloody forget it. We
lost our beloved ones. What part of that don’t you understand? We cried silent
tears at the Lincoln Memorial because we knew what this Civil Rights movement
was all about and we were only teenagers.
You have no idea what that loss did to us as
teens and young adults and we’ll never forget the sacrifices that were made
towards the liberties and freedoms of this modern Civil Rights movement because
we led the way even when there were serious life and death repercussions,
threats made against the allies of this movement and serious physical violence
and harassment.
Don’t you remember?
Oh, how silly of me.
Of course you don’t because you weren’t there
to remember.
We, the Generation X allies endured
harassment, teasing, stereotypes, getting ostracized and violence. Eat it! We
were there, we saw and we conquered through non-violent demonstrations, marches
and parades all across this nation.
Many of us aren’t able to talk about the
GBLTA bloodshed of the 1990’s because this movement isn’t a bloody slogan or
something to brag about. We lost our friends. How daft are you?
We weren’t cowards when it came to standing
up for our peers’ equalities, civil rights and liberties.
We marched right along with them. And don’t
you ever bloody forget it. We overcame the prejudice of others who thought we,
too, were gay for marching along to the freedoms of our brothers and sisters
and we didn’t care if we got ridiculed for it because we understood that it was
the right thing to do.
We were a generation who ignited compassion
and organized movements to greater demographics in a sector of the population
that was dismissed and disfranchised when it came to equality.
You have no idea what the Generation X allies
went through to safe guard an entire generation of GBLTA whose blood was shed
for this movement. To take away our time and place in history is to be ignorant
of the sacrifices our generation made without the help of the internet or
needing to be petted-on-the-head or to-be-fed cookies by our Baby Boomer
parents who were destroying the world and the environment at that time.
We also fought against our parents’ ignorance
about the environment but money won over youth’s intelligence and compassion
for this globe.
What would you know about those sacrifices
that were made when the Baby Boomers and the Millenials have no concept of
selfless-sacrifice; two generations that had their arses wiped clean and had
everything handed to them without ever working for it. Please. Don’t be so
offensive.
Generation X raised the Millenials while our
parents sauntered off to make money to give it to the Millenials for how guilty
the Baby Boomers felt that they had missed-out on most of the Millenials’
upbringing due to workholism and delusions of grandeur.
We know, we wiped the snotty noses of the
Millenials, fed them, encouraged them to be better than their spoiled selves
made ugly by our parents when they stepped in and pretended to parent because
when our parents came around they bought-up the affections of our younger
siblings and casted us aside; we were no longer little and cute thus we took
our parenting responsibilities seriously.
We didn’t care if our parents loved us or not
because our Grandparents loved us more than they loved their own children
because we were more like our grandparents than the spoilt Baby Boomers. We
could not be bought because we already knew the truth about the Baby Boomers.
They had sold out in their mid-thirties and all they cared about was
themselves.
The one thing Millenials are horrible at is
being able to humble themselves and say “thank you” or “I’m sorry” because
their stupid parents taught them to be selfish, ignorant and belligerent while
we tried to teach them to be compassionate, intelligent and kindly-assertive.
Ah, what a waste of all of our generations.
Our grandparents; The Greatest Generation were the “Mildred-Pierce” generation and
their efforts were all in vain to give the Baby Boomers everything they wanted
and instead they became deadly to themselves and others.
If you allow for the Millenials to take all
of the credit for the seeds that Generation X planted then you’ll leave our
friends forgotten forever those who were murdered in cold blood in the 1990’s
or who committed suicide; and we’ll have none of that.
Just because we don’t brag about our efforts
it doesn’t mean that we didn’t move along the GBLTA Civil Rights movement.
We were right there in the trenches getting
the crap beaten out of us right along with our brothers and sisters. Peace. You
have no clue what we went through because like our Grandparents’ generation,
The Greatest Generation, we don’t have cause to brag about the heroic deeds
that we’ve accomplished. Yes, indeed.
Sincerely,
Gabriel
P.S. The Boy Scouts of America will allow for
GLBTA brothers to join in otherwise it’s considered discrimination and as
Americans we don’t stand by that, because, too, much blood has been shed for
the equal rights of all.
It’s time to mature and become adults
otherwise we won’t be any good to future generations or we’ll become another
Baby Boomer “teenage wasteland” of a generation.
Our friends didn’t die in vain just to see this
country exercise its freedoms of hatred.
The Baby Boomers were the adults when we were
teens and they allowed for our friends to get killed in this Civil Rights
movement because as a generation they were advancing in their careers and left
us to our devices.
They were the most selfish parents that ever
came into existence. No other generation in history has been quite as
superficial and self-centered as them. They forgot to parent because they
didn’t want to mature and become adults. What a waste. What a pity!
*) Remember, comedians can say anything they
want and if you’re too daft to catch on to humor then you most definitely are
the butt of all jokes. If you can’t laugh at yourself then you have no business
in public life as a public figure. A comedian can say whatever the hell they
want in jest or not. Get over yourselves.
*) Yes, yes. Thank you. I won’t write on the
“podcast page” or on the “Self-Portraits” page for those of you who don’t want
to read or for those of who can’t read very well. Peace.
February 4, 2013
“There are hundreds of millions of gun owners in this country, and
not one of them will have an accident today. The only misuse of guns comes in
environments where there are drugs, alcohol, bad parents, and undisciplined
children. Period.” - Ted Nugent
“Because of their size, parents may be difficult to discipline
properly.” - P.J. O’Rourke
“My heroes are and were my parents. I can't see having anyone else
as my heroes.” - Michael Jordan
“Let parents bequeath to their children not riches, but the spirit
of reverence.” - Plato
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Word of the day: Improvident (Lacking ability to provide for future, Not thrifty)
Many of those in institutions for the poor
have been improvident.
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Happy Monday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Thank you, yes.
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Earlier this afternoon at 3:23pm I looked out
the kitchen window when our neighbor hurled the backyard fence between our
neighbors and us and ran straight through our yard.
I knocked on the window for the twelve year
old, scrawny boy of mixed-race to get the hell out of our backyard.
He heard the knocks but it was apparent that
he couldn’t tell where they were coming from as he wildly looked into all of
the windows at the back of the house but couldn’t make out the source of the
sound.
He sped out of the yard as fast as he could.
I’ve spoken about our neighbors’ disrespect
with some of our closest friends and family and every single one of them tells
us that it’s not okay for our neighbor’s kids to cut across through our
backyard especially after we’ve told them not to do so.
Our Robbinsdale neighbors and their children
won’t listen to our polite requests to please stop crossing through our
backyard and I’ve been told that it’s because, “they don’t respect you.”
Before my father took off for Texas for the
winter, he told me: “‘don’t let them get away with that. Every time you see
them cross the yard then call the cops because this could become a worse
problem than you think.’”
My father was right.
Our neighbors to our backyard in Robbinsdale
don’t respect us and that’s why their children continue to hurl the fence
between us and them, six months after we’ve asked them to please stop doing
that and since we’ve moved in.
It’s left a sour taste in my mouth to say the
least.
I’ve been quite assertive, kind and
respectful when I’ve told the children not to jump the fence because I’m afraid
they’ll get hurt and please not to cut across our backyard but that doesn’t seem
to get through to their thick skulls.
The children are beautiful mixed-race
children, who obviously consider our backyard their side street as well as
their stomping grounds, but charm can only get you so far and respect can get
you further.
I don’t like these neighbor children and I
may not ever like them again because their misbehavior says a whole lot about
their parents and their misconduct.
Now, I’ve been told that as an American you
can shoot near people, near people,
near people: when they trespass your private property.
No, you may not take an assault weapon and
take it to the streets however you may shoot any trespasser upon your private
property with warning, of course and no, you may not kill them.
Now, I neither believe in shooting children
nor will I, however, I do day-dream of taking out a water squirt gun and
squirting them (ha! I wrote “skirting” instead of “squirting”) with something
gross that’ll stain and ruin their clothes.
I day-dream about getting a ferocious pack of
Rottweiler’s which I may just do.
We’ve considered fencing off the backyard
with a fence as high as our city ordinance will allow for us to do so. I think
we can only put up six feet tall fences but if we could I’d put up thirteen
foot fences and an entire rock wall across the perimeter of the yard.
I contacted and spoke with “Officer Ryan” the
community service officer back in August 2012 and he informed me that I had
three options A) call the cops (which I feel silly doing) B) go over there and
introduce myself to my neighbors and ask them ever so kindly to please keep
their children from jumping the back fence into our yard (which everyone I know
tell me not to go over there no matter what) C) positive conflict resolution with
a third party.
My father told me not to go over there
because that can always get out of hand quickly. He told me to stay away from
the disrespectful parents of these children.
I’m too busy and don’t desire to do any of
the three recommendations except that when I tell our neighbor’s ignorant
children to stay out of our yard then I expect them to.
I expect our neighbors to have enough respect
for us and that’s that. End of story.
However, the children think that it’s a game
and they like to see how much they can get away with their disrespect. I could
almost learn to grow to hate their déclassé misbehavior.
I’m frustrated and beyond wanting to speak to
any of them.
I’ve got a great deal of resentment towards
their ignorance.
I don’t like their rude misbehavior thus why
would I even want to speak with them?
Something has to change, but I’m not sure
what.
I don’t resort to any violence.
I believe in non-violence.
I pray that come summer 2013 that this will
resolve itself and it will no longer become an issue. I’m beginning to dislike
these children and their parents greatly.
If this continues into August 2013, one year
from our purchase date then I’ve got this day-dream about asking friends to
help me gentrify this neighborhood into an absorbitantly high-income bracket in
which renters won’t be able to afford this neighborhood.
Nevertheless, we moved here because we wanted
to live amongst hard working citizens and civilians not amongst
multi-millionaires.
I don’t know what to tell you.
It’s too bad.
I sometimes, dislike American children with a
passion, because starting with the MTV, generation X and the Millennials; the
Baby Boomers stopped raising children. What culture or society wants to have
ingrates for offspring? None whatsoever.
Sincerely,
Gabriel
*) Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter:
What’s there to be said about nothing? Absolutely Nothing.
We watched the XLVII Super
Bowl half time for about thirty seconds.
I guess it was the “Ghetto
Super Bowl” with the lights going out for about thirty minutes. Shame. Pity.
All of that money and the NFL couldn’t keep the lights on. Where does the
citizen’s money go?
I’d never, not once seen
Ms. Knowles-Carter perform her “North Minneapolis prostitute performance.” I
had no idea she took so much of her inspiration from the world of prostitution.
Why was Beyoncé dressed in an
outfit that made her look like a duck stuffed in a little French girl’s
underpants? Oh, my! Someone hates her with a passion to dress her like that.
What a queer woman.
Last week the moment she opened up her mouth to speak she
sounded exactly like every prostitute I’d ever met when I did research for a
film about prostitution in North Minneapolis. Her manner of speech told you
everything you needed to know about her and where she came from. Yikes. What a
freak show.
“I can’t stand her.”
Watch: “Singin' In The Rain” which is
one of the most fabulous films in the world.
*) You do know that New Orleans is the capital of heroin? Right?
Right. Oh, don’t give me that look: Their locals tell me their secrets.
*) What a mediocre little country… that has
much to prove to the rest of the world.
*) Yes! Yes! I got it loud and clear. No
writing on the “Self-Portraits” page or in the “podcast” page because you guys
don’t want to read. I get it! Thank you.
February 1, 2013
“Ignoring a child's disrespect is the surest guarantee that it will
continue.” Fred. G. Gosman
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Word of the day: Superficial (On the surface, Shallow, Not real)
His superficial work will never gain him a
promotion.
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Happy Friday!
Aloha.
Shall we dance? Thank you, yes.
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Take it away Mr. Bill Maher. Break a leg.
Good Luck!
The people look to our contemporary for
intelligent dialogue about important topics that are ignored by much of
mass-media. Thank you. People say the coolest things about our contemporary,
Mr. Maher.
Art imitates life.
GMO.
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Note #1:
Look: you do know that if We The People,
allow for politicians to fall off the ledge with the lemurs about all of this
stereotyping and talk about mental illness being violent then we’ll be the
suckers for it. Right? Right.
Now: FACT: The New York Times, By Richard A.
Friedman, M.D.
“Alcohol and drug abuse are far more likely
to result in violent behavior than mental illness by itself.”
…But there is overwhelming epidemiological
evidence that the vast majority of people with psychiatric disorders do not
commit violent acts. Only about 4 percent of violence in the United States can
be attributed to people with mental illness.
This does not mean that mental illness is not
a risk factor for violence. It is, but the risk is actually small. Only certain
serious psychiatric illnesses are linked to an increased risk of violence.
----- ----- -----
Let’s do a little math:
according to the Census Bureau the estimated overall population for the United
States of America as of the end of 2012 was:
*) 312.8 million Americans (multiply by) 4%
(equals) = 3,913.7 cases of gun violence is caused by the severe “mentally ill”
with schizophrenia and bi-polar disorders in the United States of America.
I do wonder what the numbers are for
gang-related gun violence, domestic abuse gun violence, alcohol-and-drug abuse
gun violence, anti-depressant gun violence. You get the point. I could go on.
Why is it that there’s hardly any research on gun violence in America? Oh, the
NRA? Say no more.
Personal Note: It’s
been explained to me by medical experts and others in the psychological and
psychiatric field that some of the most violent gun acts are caused by people
on anti-depressants who aren’t diagnosed with a severe “mental disorder” or
“mental illness” such as schizophrenia and bi-polar yet these “depressed”
individuals are prescribed behavior-and-mood altering anti-depressants by their
doctors instead of forty minutes of exercise per day as my psychologist father
suggests is best to prescribe those with mild-to-even-almost-severe depression,
exercise is the key to a successful and mindful mindset.
There you have it!
Pick it up with the medical and
pharmaceutical companies as to why almost half of the American population is
prescribed strong and deadly methamphetamine lab-made addictive drugs that
causes killer rat-like behavior in those without a diagnosis of “mental
illness” yet creating deadly and extreme violence in them. Go figure.
No wonder people without mental illnesses
shoot-and-kill others because they’re getting prescribed killer rat-like
pharmaceutical methamphetamine lab-made addictive drugs.
Oh, I get it now!!!
Remember: People with clinically diagnosed
severe mental illnesses and metal disorders such as schizophrenia and bi-polar
are more likely to be taken advantage of, used and manipulated by those who
don’t have any diagnosed mental disorders. The mentally ill do get and are
preyed upon.
Our politicians have lost their way and the
light through this made-up debate.
Debunked!
Note #2:
Look: when it comes to official Senate
hearings and line-of-questioning that can get out of control; one, neither has
to agree with one’s peers’ viewpoints or even so much as like the person,
however one does indeed have to respect the other party involved in any
dialogue and approach each other with civilized conduct especially towards
those that we don’t agree with nor much care for because if we aren’t civilized
then there’s no reason to look-up-to those citizens in positions of power,
quasi-leadership who get-away-with bullying misconduct during something as
important as senate hearings.
Children are watching and so are the American
citizens. Shame.
I personally neither agree with Mr. Chuck Hagel
and his personal viewpoints on defense policy when it comes to women and gays
in the military, nor so much for his nomination for defense secretary, however,
I do agree that Mr. Chuck Hagel deserves an apology from his colleagues due to
their misconduct upon Thursday’s confirmation hearing.
I was not only appalled and embarrassed at
the misconduct that took place at Mr. Hagel’s confirmation hearing but
furthermore I was stunned that quasi-leaders acted as disrespectfully as they
did for the cameras.
Careful, the entire world is watching.
Sincerely,
Gabriel
*) Yes,
one more question: Why is it that Ms. Knowles-Carter can sing but she can’t
properly speak in her first native language, English?
When she opened-up her mouth to speak she
sounded like an eighth grader from some lost-and-forgotten ghetto filled with
barn animals. Pity. She’s so lovely looking but when she opened-up her mouth
all one could do was cringe at the ugliness that is her uneducated self.
One would think that with all of her money
she would’ve gotten private tutors to help her learn how to properly speak
English over broadcast national television? Pity. She sounded like a barn
animal on…
Ebonics isn’t the language to use over
broadcast national television because the mainstream culture of America isn’t
the hood. Look up some of Dr. Bill Cosby’s work.
No wonder “African-American” singers aren’t
asked to speak too often just like low-class Brits aren’t asked to speak for
British audiences unless its American audiences who have no idea that one of
Britain’s donkeys is reporting to them live from the Queen’s Jubilee.
One’s pronunciation will break you or make
you no matter who you think you may be.
It’s work but it’s worth it or no one will
ever take you seriously because…
Ha! Ms. Knowles-Carter can actually sing
alright, she’s not the best singer in the world but she can sing. Good for her!
It’s too bad that she didn’t do that at the Inauguration 2013 when it really
did matter to sing for, We The People first-and-foremost and then for the
President.
A free intellectual lesson for you that I was
taught: Presidents will come-and-go but We The People will stay here to guard
and watch over this land. Peace.
*) It’s good to have critics… especially for public
figures. It’s healthy.