Wesentlichen Dinge: Loving Children

Es stimmt auf jeden Fall, dass man von wesentlichen Dinge abgeleitet wird. Der Journalismus (insbesondere Washingtonian Jounalismus) ist ein Echobox.

Bevor ein Leser irgendwas von den Zuständen im Siedlungsbau findet, muss er durch Meilen von Texten über wie peinlich dessen Bekanntgabe für Joe Biden sein müsste.

Anstatt die wesentlichen Punkte im Healthreform berichtet zu bekommen, redet man von große Geschichte – und würden einzelne Details ans Tageslicht gebracht, sind die aus eingeschränkten Sichten, mit allerdings ausführlichen Analyse des Tea Party vs. Obama Spiels. Wer hat eigentlich Zeit für eine dürftige etwa dreissig Gegenstimmen aus der Reihe der Demokraten (von irgend anderen Stimmen ganz zu schweigen)?

Edgar Allan Poe hat ‘A Dream within a Dream’ gedichtet, ohne zu ahnen, dass eines Tages mit Wörter und Worte, Ablenkung auf ewige Ablenkung bis in der Verstörtheit, das Volk zum Schlummern gebracht wird.

Was sind die Wesentlichen Dinge?

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Is the outrage real that prompted the Holy See’s cry of “witch-hunt”? The claim may sound absurd to some, but until every head of state is held to the same standard as the cast-off pervert in the park, the official statement from the Vatican has legal merit, meritorious or not.

What is a witch-hunt after all, than a mob chasing after a ghost? Politicians can voice their mistrust, but only when they instruct the judiciary to take action can they order a stand-down of the masses. I believe that’s what is referred to as “law and order”. It seems to me – the lay person – that The Church is more than just tax-exempt, and until the mob reaches critical mass, there will be no accountability.

Sympathizers say, in essence, that the Catholic Church is not the only refuge for pedophiles. I say, then come clean!

Then again, we are just talking about the institutionalized obfuscation of the ritualized butt-raping of our children. It could always be worse:

“We have shot an amazing number of people, but to my knowledge, none has ever proven to be a threat,” said Gen. Stanley A. McChrystal, who became the senior American and NATO commander in Afghanistan last year. His comments came during a recent videoconference to answer questions from troops in the field about civilian casualties.

Ah, but those aren’t really our children anyway, are they?

And in the category of dissidence cum cognitive dissonance, I submit to you the following utterance: It is bad, but it’s a start.

If the start is bad, what kind of middle and end should one look forward to?

Whatever the first steps bring to fruition, it seems that Congressman K has completed his sellout.

I’m sure we just have the well-being of our children in mind, otherwise their cute little uninsured faces wouldn’t adorn so many photo-ops.

I don’t know if it has always been this way, but it seems as if we’ve gone from accepting the lesser of two evils, to supporting any and everything the greater of two evils is against with something akin to qualified-unbridled enthusiasm.

And what am I to make of this?

New Hampshire State Rep. Nick Levasseur has apologized for saying, “Anime is a prime example of why two nukes just wasn’t enough,” on Facebook.

Forget the bombing joke being insensitive to Japan; what about the insensitivity of the A-bombing itself?

Love of children is blind.

Twaterei

Salon Bruit vorbei. Zazie gut. Mario gut.

Home before 4. Not usual. Rained, but my generator worked almost the whole way. Not such a long ride really.

Should I watch Purdue? Down by five in the second. Hm. Maybe I’ll just watch the score for a while.

Tied at 31 with 16:03 left. I’ll give it a couple more minutes.

Okay, I can’t wait any longer.

I’d swear Clark Kellogg just said that Barlow “raped that ball away” from somebody. Good offensive rebound, though. Tie ballgame. Sit the fuck down, Coach K.

Shit. Just when I start to watch and they’re down by seven in no time.

JaJuan Johnson dunks the shit out of the ball! Purdue back within two.

And in a flash Duke extends that lead to nine. Fuckin’ Duke. I know I shouldn’t give a shit, but Duke!

Man, there are more commercials than radio. And, of course, during sporting events they are all so very funny and awesome. It’s as if almost everybody I’ve ever hated worked at the same ad agency and a few more people I hate got cast so that they can put together adverts for a target audience consisting of everybody else that I’ve ever hated.

Back to the action and the Boilermakers are toast. Sometimes I can’t believe people get paid to talk. I’d rather watch commercials. Fuckin’ Duke. I gotta get some sleep.

Ain’t that a kick…

If I could just breakout of my standard bitching and moaning about the inability of the unwashed devotees to the body politic to see through the continual big sellout, and distract myself from representative democracy’s efficient marginalization of those whom it represents in democratic theory, and its ongoing massive image campaign to make the fix seem like maintenance, then I might just take the time to inform you, my loyal reader, of a different kind of kick to the gut.

Nico made this fabulously functional kick-trigger for my pedal (still the same Ludwig Speed King that I’ve had since Reagan, Term I, but haden’t used since ’01).

According to Froggy, it cost him no more than a few euros and an hour of his time. And though I know that the piezo mic was relatively cheap, the shelf brackets not inordinately expensive, and the jack-cable can be had for a price which wouldn’t necessarily break one’s piggybank, and I am aware of his considerable ability at handiwork, I can’t help but believe that his estimate is a little… underestimated.

Whatever the cost, the payoff was extraordinary, the result surprisingly effective at first try. The occasional mis-kick notwithstanding – and my unnecessary application and re-coordination during rehearsal without having practiced a foot-triggered bass drum in eight years – the possibilities presented themselves immediately. Now the challenge is not to let it lead to overplay.

And here I present to you the latest uploaded versions of rehearsals.

Nico Petitdan: bass
Pablo Juanes: tenor sax
davidly: Handsonic

It’s the Hybrid, Honey: more forced allegory

Yo mama can’t even go for a stroll past the Wal*Mart without getting attacked by a swarm o’ ne’er-do-wells!

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Whether you’re talking about a Toyota that just won’t quit, alleged attempts at bipartisanship (loyal partisanship?), or overzealous interspecies integration, the hybrid experiment seems to be potentially toxic.

But at least in the case of the Toyota, it’s only the profit motive that would appear to have corrupted an otherwise successful technological achievement. Conversely, mixing and matching the gene pool with an eye to getting a leg up on the competition reveals a contagion that can’t be contained.

Once a new breed begins to predominate, everything else is easily classified as yesterday’s lot – and the greater the control, the more narrowly definable anything not within that control. The day is at hand when those opposed to Monsanto’s methods are classified as flat-earthers, to take one example. Likewise, anyone against the current stealthcare deform is put down as a subspecies of the tea-partier.

Politically speaking, the new breed displays the same rabid approach as the opposing party of inbreds who’ve justified their criminal intent with the warning, “Some people just seem to forget what it was like on 9/11.” They cry, “Clearly you’ve forgotten what the last eight years were like.”

Hence any member of the hive still clinging to a promise that the queen made is retrograde now that it’s clear that the drones are mutating seven ways to Sunday (today, praise Jesus).

The transformation is astounding to witness. And the larger the number the bumblers who give up the ghost of an oath, the more marginal those who stand their ground will seem. I mean, what’s crazier than Kucinich, who went from royal resistor to empress’ angel overnight?

But you would think that previously failed Tinkertoy Superbreeding (TM) would at least give us pause regarding what we do with our food supply. If our vegetables could deliver a message with the intense immediacy of the killer bee-sting, would we listen or just chew and swallow?

Unterbrechung der Langweile

Just a reminder to remember
to wait in the lobby
if you arrive earlier
than later than you did today.

I haven’t done that lately:
Waiting in the lobby.
They have coffee there
and there’s a toilet
for those who’re aware,
who’ve been down that hall
to the conference rooms on the ground floor.

It’s hard to keep a date
when you’re rarely ever late.