Selasee and the Fafa Family have been invited to perform at a very historic and special event. click on the link to find out more.

Jan. 20, 2009
8 p.m.
Gaylord National Resort & Convention Center

The Africa and International Friends Inaugural Ball offers a star-studded affair filled with incomparable entertainment, spectacular food and the chance to celebrate this historical occasion with cultural, political and economic leaders from around the world. Featuring live performances by Patti Labelle, Raheem Devaughn, The O'Jays and many more, and a special honor presented to Aretha Franklin. Event Chairman - Nelson Mandela.

http://www.fallensoldiersinc.org/?source=gaylordnational.com

sent this in to the daily camera yesterday. we'll see if they actually print said editorial.
if you're from boulder let us know what you think about the kiosks.


11/30/08

Boulder doesn't like kiosks better than meters-



In regard to the story printed on 11/30/08, I am curious as to when The City of Boulder started influencing policy at The Daily Camera? Journalism is supposed to be ethical and unbiased, no? If not ethical and/or unbiased it becomes simply advertising or editorial. In this case it is a flagrant "high–five" to a city's new policy that the constituents DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT appreciate. So why the "high-five?"
I am a thirty-something professional living in Boulder. As per the stats I have read in various periodicals over the last year, per capita Boulder has one of the highest thirty-something populations in the country, ergo my peers make up a solid portion of the voting population here in the "Boulder Bubble." Also Boulder ranked in the top five if not first or second in highest educated population per capita. We are not fools and do not need our news dumbed-down, nor will we accept shoddy journalism without speaking up. My job keeps me social and I spend much time talking with my fellow citizens. NONE of them have ever expressed to me how much they appreciate the kiosks more so than meters. In fact it has been quite the opposite when the subject has been broached.
The fact that The Camera ran in its SUNDAY edition, and on the front page, how great the kiosks are, lends way to speculation about the motivation for such an article. Seems like something's amiss.
About ninety percent of the story glorifies the kiosks with no real evidence save for skewed and oddly worded statistics which do not express the full spectrum of pertinent information; an important stat left out being a comparison of tax dollars spent on parking pre and post kiosk, instead only giving us how many tickets were issued. The final two paragraphs give an embarrassing (for the camera) amount of time to an alternate and more likely perspective. The article states at its end "it's a pain." Hmmm. Maybe tell us why it's a pain? How about some fair and unbiased elaboration on those who think the kiosk system sucks?


What about this is better than having meters?
1- Having to wait until your time expires before "re up-ing" your time. For example, if you find you need a little more time you cannot simply add to your already purchased time. You must wait until the receipt expires or waste money paying for overlapped time for which you've already paid. In a social climate where every penny matters, I cannot see how anyone could suggest this is a good thing. In and of itself this point is reason enough to get rid of the kiosk system.
2- Having to go back to your car to put in the ticket. In a climate where half the year is prone to cold inclement weather, having to go to one's car again up to 50 yards away could be the difference of getting soaked or having one's child get sick due to exposure. The latter of which is far fetched I know, but nonetheless still possible.
3- The paper receipt – more trash in your car and yet more paper waste produced.
4- Using a credit card or bankcard seems to make it easier for the city to get an extra quarter or two simply by bad arithmetic by the consumer, or simply to try and purchase more time due to my first point.
5- We still haven't been told if the situation is such that fewer tickets have been issued but more of the taxpayers dollars are needlessly going into parking system.
6- Let us not forget the extra hour added six days out of the week to charge the public. How is that better for the consumer?

Considering that we are a nation at war; a nation in an harsh economic downward spiral; a nation presently dealing with mass corruption of our corporate and political structure; a nation with virtually no state health care system, unlike EVERY OTHER EQUALLY DEVELOPED NATION IN THE WORLD; a nation with an ever polarized population pitted against each other, with not a little help from the media I might add, I would suggest there are more pertinent stories worthy of being front page news. This piece is obviously city propaganda to try and convince the public into believing something that is simply not true. I challenge you the reader, or you the editor, should this little diatribe fail to go further than your desk, to go ask anybody how he or she likes the kiosks in comparison to meters. What you would find, at the very least, would surely merit more perspective than The Camera's biased and front page take on the matter. Instead we get what is nothing more than some meaningless piece with no more validity than a paid advertisement.

Shame on you, Daily Camera. We deserve better from our city newspaper.

Goodbye and Good Riddance
Tuesday 11 November 2008

by: Paul Waldman, The American Prospect
After eight years of President Bush, we almost don't know how to function without him - almost. But before we move on, we should pause to remember just what we're leaving behind.
Just over two years into George W. Bush's presidency, The American Prospect featured Bush on its cover under the headline, "The Most Dangerous President Ever." At the time, some probably thought it a bit over the top. But nearly six years later, it's worth taking a moment to reflect on the multifaceted burden that will soon be lifted from our collective shoulders.
Since last week, I have stopped short and shaken my head in amazement every time I have heard the words "President-elect Obama." But it is equally extraordinary to consider that in just a few weeks, George W. Bush will no longer be our president. Let me repeat that: In just a few weeks, George W. Bush will no longer be our president. So though our long national ordeal isn't quite over, it's never too early to say goodbye.
Goodbye, we can say at last, to the most powerful man in the world being such a ridiculous buffoon, incapable of stringing together two coherent sentences. Goodbye to cringing with dread every time our president steps onto the world stage, sure he'll say or do something to embarrass us all. Goodbye to being represented by a man who embodies everything our enemies want the people of the world to believe about America - that we are ignorant, cruel, and only care about foreign countries when we decide to stomp on them. Goodbye to his giggle, and his shoulder shake, and his nicknames. Goodbye to a president who talks to us like we're a nation of fourth-graders.
And goodbye, of course, to Dick Cheney. Goodbye to the man whose naked contempt for democracy contorted his face to a permanent sneer, who spent his days in his undisclosed location with his man-sized safe. And while we're at it, goodbye to Cheney's consigliore David Addington, as malevolent a force as has ever left his trail of slime across our federal institutions.
Goodbye, indeed, to the entire band of liars and crooks and thieves who have so sullied the federal government that belongs to us all. We can even say goodbye to those who have already gone, to Rummy and Scooter, to Fredo and Rove, tornados of misery left in their wake.
Goodbye to the rotating cast of butchers manning the White House's legal abattoir, where the Constitution has been sliced and bled and gutted since September 11. Goodbye to the "unitary executive" theory and its claims that the president can do whatever he wants - even snatch an American citizen off the street and lock him up for life without charge, without legal representation, and without trial. Goodbye to the promiscuous use of "signing statements" (1,100 at last count) to declare that the law is whatever the president says it is, and that he'll enforce only those laws he likes. Goodbye to an executive branch that treats lawfully issued subpoenas like suggestions that can be ignored. Goodbye to thinking of John Ashcroft as the liberal attorney general. Goodbye to the culture of incompetence, where rebuilding a country we destroyed could be turned over to a bunch of clueless 20-somethings with no qualifications save an internship at the Heritage Foundation and an opposition to abortion. Goodbye to the "Brownie, you're doin' a heckuva job" philosophy, where vital agencies are turned over to incompetent boobs to rot and decay. Goodbye to handing out the Medal of Freedom as an award for engineering one of the greatest screw-ups of our time. Goodbye to an administration that welcomed gluttonous war profiteering, that was only too happy to outsource every government function it could to well-connected contractors who would do a worse job for more money.
Goodbye to the Bush Doctrine of preemptive war. Goodbye to the lust for sending off other people's sons and daughters to fight and kill and die just to show your daddy you're a real man. Goodbye to playing dress-up in flight suits, goodbye to strutting and posing and desperate sexual insecurity as a driver of American foreign policy. Goodbye to the neocons, so sinister and deluded they beg us all to become fevered conspiracy theorists. Goodbye to Guantanamo and its kangaroo courts. Goodbye to the use of torture as official U.S. government policy, and goodbye to the immoral ghouls who think you can rename it "enhanced interrogation techniques" and render it any less monstrous.
Goodbye to the accusation that if you disagree with what the president wants to do, you don't "support the troops."
Goodbye to stocking government agencies with people who are opposed to the very missions those agencies are charged with carrying out. Goodbye to putting industry lobbyists in charge of the agencies that are supposed to regulate those very industries. Goodbye to madly giving away public lands to private interests. Goodbye to a Food and Drug Administration that acts like a wholly owned subsidiary of the pharmaceutical industry, except when it acts like a wholly owned subsidiary of the fundamentalist puritans who believe that sex is dirty and birth control will turn girls into sluts. Goodbye to the "global gag rule," which prohibits any entity receiving American funds from even telling women where they can get an abortion if they need it.
Goodbye to vetoing health insurance for poor children but rushing back to Washington to sign a bill to keep alive a woman whose cerebral cortex had liquefied. Goodbye to the ban on federal funding of embryonic stem-cell research.
Goodbye to the philosophy that says that if we give tax cuts to the rich and keep the government from any oversight of the economy, prosperity will eventually trickle down. Goodbye to the thirst for privatizing Social Security and to the belief that the success of a social safety-net program is what makes it a threat and should mark it for destruction. Goodbye to the war on unions and to a National Labor Relations Board devoted to crushing them. Goodbye to the principle of loyalty above all else, that nominates Harriet Miers to the Supreme Court and puts Alberto Gonzales in charge of the Justice Department. And goodbye to that Justice Department, the one where U.S. attorneys keep their jobs only if they are willing to undertake bogus investigations of Democrats timed to hit the papers just before Election Day. Goodbye to a Justice Department where graduates of Pat Robertson's law school roam the halls by the dozens, where "justice" is a joke.
Goodbye to James Dobson and a host of radical clerics picking up the phone and hearing someone in the White House on the other end. Goodbye to the most consequential decisions being made on the basis of one man's "gut," a gut that proved so wrong so often. Goodbye to the contempt for evidence, to the scorn for intellect and book learnin', to the relentless war on science itself as a means of understanding the world.
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye to it all.
Though President Obama will be spending most of his time cleaning up the mess George Bush made, we probably won't have Dubya to kick around anymore. It's hard to imagine Bush undertaking some grand philanthropic effort on the scale of the Clinton Global Initiative, or hopping around to international trouble spots like Jimmy Carter. Republicans won't be asking him to speak on their behalf, and publishers are reportedly uninterested in the prospect of a Bush memoir. His reign of destruction complete, Bush will return to Texas and fill his days with the mundane activities of a retiree - puttering around the yard, reading some magazines, maybe enjoying that new Xbox Jenna gave him for Christmas ("I'm the Decider, and I decide to spend this afternoon playing Call of Duty 4").
This presidency is finally over. We can say goodbye to an administration whose misdeeds have piled so high that the size of the mountain no longer shocks us. In our lifetimes, we will see administrations of varying degrees of competence and integrity, some we'll agree with and some we won't. But we will probably never see another quite like the one now finally reaching its end, so mind-boggling a parade of incompetence and malice, dishonesty, and immorality. So at last - at long, long last - we can say goodbye.
And good riddance.
--------
Paul Waldman is a senior fellow at Media Matters for America and the author of "Being Right is Not Enough: What Progressives Must Learn From Conservative Success." The views expressed here are his own.

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the walmart of coffee.

we're talking about the major coffee house chain in the world people. starbucks.


while on my last trip outta town, there were no other coffee houses in site and i was in dire need for my caffeine fix.

ahhh shit.

driving down the road in anywhere usa, i see those green letters laughing at me like the evil ringmaster from the circus. it's gonna be one of those days wherein i have to endure an experience at starbucks, or as i prefer to refer to it, "starfucks."

i get inside the place and have to wait ten minutes for the two people ahead of me, even though there were two employees behind the counter, and that's NOT including the manager that popped her smiley face about here and there as if walking to and from some important meeting about a better way to inject the starbucks coffee beans with more caffeine. maybe it's a myth, but i have heard that starbucks roasts their coffee so dark that they burn all the caffeine out of the bean. so they figured out a way to inject the bean with caffeine some how to make up for it. i guess that's the story. i think i'm gonna look that up cuz if that's true, then i am even more disappointed in america for allowing starfucks to end so many beautiful, unique, and creative coffee shop experiences. by that of course i mean all the ma and pa coffee houses, some of which had been around for decades, who've closed their doors due to their lack of ability to keep up with the walFart of coffee shops. chalk another one up for the idiots. by my count i believe it's about 111-111 in overtime and every point here could make the difference that ultimately decides the outcome of our fate as a nation.

after i wait for an unnecessarily long time due to mismanagement, i speak with the girl who was only making orders while the gay man ( i say gay man because it is flamboyantly true, not because i mean it as a derogative remark. i like gay men more than straight men most times. not the little whiney sensitive bitches mind you, just the regular gay guys who enjoy a good cock once in a while. what's wrong with that? whatever the case may be, that's just the most obvious description that stands out in my head at the moment.) smiles blindly and blissfully into the screen doing absolutely nothing while the girl makes the drinks. maybe she can't work the register? maybe he can't work the machines that produce this caffeine-injected elixir? maybe they both hate their jobs and could give a shit? maybe this is a clue to the demise of "the american dream." so i begin to tell her my order...

here comes a dilemma that i encounter every time i go to a coffee shop, especially the walfart of coffees. ya see, i have my own espresso (not eXpresso) machine and have been my own personal barista for more than a decade. i know what i want. i drink a triple eSpresso, iced with whole milk. i add sugar to taste, chocolate, vanilla, and cinnamon. some call it a breve. some call it a breve machiatta, some call it a triple latte. it's three shots of espresso with milk and my choice flavors.

now the trick to making it taste fantabulously fan-fucking-tastic, is mixing all the other ingredients in the HOT shots of eSpresso before one puts the milk in, and especially before one puts in the ice. this way all the powders are dissolved. once you put the milk in, you STIR in the ice. why, you may ask? because this keeps the ice from melting and diluting the wonderful flavors you just concocted. now it seems to me that this is only common sense, but when i go out for coffee, it never ceases to amaze me how the happy barista just dumps my scolding hot triple shot all over a cup of ice. i sit with sad clown eyes watching my eSpresso turn into coffee, the watered down version of eSpresso. if you don't understand the difference, you should never even attempt to find gainful employment in ANY coffee house as you most likely would serve your country better checking people out at walfart. come to think of it, they probably have starfucks in walfart nowadays, which may very well explain these puzzling looks i get when ordering a triple eSpresso.

now i am left with this melted iced eSpresso that i haven't even doctored up with my chocolate-vanilla-cinnamon giggitygoo. i put in the elements as fast as i can, but they don't dissolve right away, and so my now melted iced eSpresso never tastes the way i like it; not sweet enough for most of it's duration, and then WAY too fuckin' sweet at the end. how can this not make fuckin' sense to anybody that has worked even one day at a coffee house? jesus we're dumb, as a country that is. maybe it's me that's dumb for expounding upon such trivialities? ahh but i digress.

typically if i have to go to a coffee house of any kind, i will now simply order a triple shot of espresso and ask for the rest when i get said espresso. that is all i order because that way the happy barista will not massacre my nectar with their stupidity, or utter lack of consciousness. they will surely and simply give me a glass with three shots of eSpresso in it. reason being that if i try and explain i want a triple latte, but would like to doctor it up before they pour the milk in, i get looks like i blew up the trade towers.

i order my friend's double lite mocha latte just as it comes ( she doesn't even bat an eye because it is on the menu, and i'm thinking "as if this drink is less difficult to make than three plain shots of espresso?"), and then i ask her to put my triple shot in a bigger glass than the one for which she is reaching. i do this because i know what i will eventually make of it and that i will need more room for the remaining ingredients. she looks at my quizzically which is per the norm. she then rolls her eyes, like i am being difficult. like there's a fucking difference between the energy it takes to get a 16oz cup instead of an 8oz cup. i think it's just because she actually has to deviate from her brainwashed perspective from the starfucks training manual, by which she was surely indoctrinated. this is where i begin having to use all my self control not to throw something at her, screaming about the ignorance and lack of consciousness she is personifying in the moment. sigh.

while this is happening her counterpart smiles at the dude in front of me, who happens to be using his debit/credit card, and says, "thanks mr. johnson, i hope you have a nice day." like he knows the guy. look buddy i am not here for you to be my pal. i just want a fucking eSpresso drink. it's not that we couldn't be friends, but that is not the purpose of this interaction what so ever. i do not need to be coddled in the line to buy coffee, especially at some corporate pimp of a cafe like starfucks.

as i ponder the silliness of the "faux friendship" the employee and customer now have, the girl working the espresso machines hollers from ten or fifteen feet away "what's your name?" i'm thinking "as if the place is so crowded they won't recognize me when my order is ready?" not counting the employees, there were three people in the entire place. heavy sigh. "jack." i answer. generally if i say "jubal" i have to repeat myself at least twice and then explain where it came from. ughh. i pay the man eight dollars and eighty-six cents for two of these drinks (note: a pound of good coffee costs around ten bucks and lasts me just more than a month with an average use of around five eSpresso drinks a week.) and step back to wait for my order. i give him the buck fourteen left over from the ten-spot out of sheer pity. i know. my own fault.

my order comes up and i ask for some whole milk because that is what i want. to this again i get the rolled eyes. if only smacking someone in the face to wake them up wasn't a criminal act. it's a coffee house for christ's sake and there are many people in the world that enjoy whole milk with their fucking coffee. why the walfart of coffee only has two percent and half and half on the customer side of the counter is beyond me. they should have whole milk, whole cream, half and half, 2%, and fucking skim out for us, no? it would save them time. well they don't. just 2% and half & half.

i ask for whole milk. he wants to give me a glass. i ask if he would simply ( SIMPLY mind you) pour some in the cup i already have so as not to waste more paper goods. "i'll just make you a cup." he says as he smiles that "i don't care what you say, but since i'm smiling you'll think it's pleasant that i completely ignore your request" smile. he brings me my milk with a plastic lid on it that has the little hole in it so as it doesn't burn your mouth when you drink it, or spill all over you while you drive. i open it up. it's not even two ounces of milk. i probably require four to six depending upon my mood. i ask for more. this is the part where i almost lose it.

he asks me how many "inches" of milk i want in my glass? "inches?" okay. see we have this measurement of VOLUME as well as distance in society. they're called either "ounces" or derivatives of the "liter" for most of the world. ahh what's the difference anyway? length and volume can be the same right? goddamnit. i say "two inches." the girl goes over to the milk and brings me nearly a full cup, which would've been about a six ounce cup or probably four and a half inches. so even though i gave them the specs in inches, she obviously didn't even understand the length of an inch. fuck.
i had to get out of there right away for fear that their way of thinking might rub off on me some how or that i might retaliate in a manner that would surely land me in the slammer.

damnit. i'm digressing...

so naturally i understand that i caved in and gave starfucks my money. i did it understanding my actions and felt like shit about it. i hope you realize that i am not impervious to being human, or a consumer whore. a fact which keeps me up sweating bullets some nights. at least i understand things used to be different. things used to have more of an individual's touch to them. i long for those days, most of which were before my time.

i don't like starbucks for many reasons and that is not so much the point as the statement it makes on american culture. it seems that everywhere i have been, which is nearly every part of the country, everything is this marketed manufactured life bullshit. nothing, it seems is "ma and pa" any longer. all corporate. what we have are designer convertibles, designer clothes, designer phones, designer coffee, designer bikers riding designer motorcycles, designer glasses, designer tits and peck implants, designer chins, cheeks, lips, and ears, designer penises, designer pussies, designer braces, and designer bars for all the designer people who live designer lifestyles.

it's a designed life. way ta go america. you have achieved an almost completely blanched state of culture. go starfuck yourself.

with or without you
i will go to the end
whether or not
we choose to be friends

with or without you
i will get to the core
whether or not
you keep closed your door

with or with out you
i will see it through
whether or not
you believe as i do

with or without you
i will rise above and beyond it
whether or not
you seek empty profits

and as our humilty
pollinates the flowers
our words will find power

just as the day falls behind us
awaits the cool blue
midnight ever more...

Austin trip sept 2007
at the airport…delayed flight. in 2003 I took a visit to tucson during the Christmas hoohah that is the united states most hypocritical moment of the year according to some folks I know. anyway, it is now sept 12th 2007 and I am once again traveling via the airline industry to go and play a show down in Austin. I have my notebook with me and wanted to transcribe some of my "airport haiku" for you here and now. as well I believe I have a few things to add at the end of that because it is definitely a bit different than last time. in terms of my head space, my prominence in the musical community in which I live and work, well, just lots has changed since then. author's note : I do have to admit that I was having some nerve issues in my upper back over the course of the last day. luckily for me my pals hooked me up with a few pain killers to make this trip do-able. otherwise i think i'd be hurtin' real bad. i only mention this so that you will understand if i get a little slap happy in my writing due to the vaicadin(how do you spell that?) and now the beer on top of that to further distribute the ease of pain in my neck and back.
so here's what I called that day "airport haiku."


we fight to live and
still we find ourselves dying
in the midst of it

the planes fly in and out
going to destinations
that await our intentions

i miss monica
lindi is still there somewhere
i miss michelle too

i think that i'll have
another cool beverage
to whet my whistle

my mom makes me sad
still she is so beautiful
finding out her way

i am death inside
my motivated tissue
which will rot one day

shiny jets arrive
and carry us to somewhere
some jets don't make it


my life is my own
my soul is everybody's
but can you taste it

this girl bummed a light
i wanted a cigarette
and so we both smoke

i do love my hat
wait this cannot be my pen
it's the waitress'

chugging beer to fly
it eases unsettled nerves
and makes me relax**

so here i sit now. many things different, even just with technology of my writing. instead of a pen and spiral notebook which has been the majority of all my writing with exception of my time in la-land. the trains that take us from the main terminal to the concourses talks to us with little music jingles to signify the up and coming information. a very heart male voice. sounds like phil hartman with less enthusiasm. i am sitting with my laptop opened and running. my music blasting and all the dumb humans that surround me are but mere vapor trails to me. this may sound like a pessimistic view or just plain negative, but really i feel more positive than i have ever in my life. i still have lost the majority of respect i used to have for humanity. but i no longer feel there is anything anybody can do about it. at least nobody with the power to do something. we've all been sold down the river. just like hunter was screaming in the eighties, the 70s, and the 60s before that. the american dream is fucked and we are all doomed to watch it unravel. kind of like with death and when you reach the point of acceptance. most people at that point come to be calm about leaving. accept their fate and leave with a sense of grace. i am now in that space. i have come to see so many beautiful things in the world in spite of all that is wrong. i see them now n their fantastic splendor, mainly because i know the time to view that luster is coming o an end. it ma never happen in my life, but it will happen within the next 50-100 years. "it" being the demise of the US as a super power in the world and the ensuing insanity that all of it's inhabitants will incur.


that being said let's move on to bigger and brighter things shall we?
i am on my short flight journey to austin once again to play some music and get down with my old buddies. we plan to attend the austin city limits festival aka ACLfest. as much as i have a severe distaste for the procedures we as citizens must endure to simply get on a fucking plane, i am happy not to have to drive through 600 miles or so of texas highways filled with redneck cops with nothing better to do than hassle folks with out-of-states plates. it's so fucking long of a drive from the top of the panhandle to austin. 10 hrs and 21 minutes by my last calculations.

just found out my delayed flight has been further delayed and yet another gate change. in a moment i will relocate to a closer watering hole. sometimes i get lost in my head and can go on endlessly, completely losing track of time. not a good thing to do when you have to catch a plane and there's terrorists all over just waiting to squirt toothpaste at us. or use my cologne to stink out the bastard capitalist pigs.
let's just go through my morning itinerary shall we?
1. woke up in severe neck and back pain.
2. smoked copious amounts of marijuana
3. ran into my roommate who had scored me a few relief pills for my pain
4. ate one pill instantly
5. ran some errands
6. finished packing
7. gave many hugs and much love to marley
8. drove to the airport with my buddy josh feeling pretty good. thanks vicadin.
9. checked in at the curb.
10. went through strip search area. had to take off flip-flops and take laptop out of the bag.
11. 11. discussed option of what to do with the 30-40lbs of electric equipment i had planned to carry on. lots of cables, wires, wire cutters, a leatherman all purpose tool, and a swiss army knife. about the time they got through that stuff and were telling me how much of it i would have to part with, i decided fuck it. let's just check the bag already.
12. went back up through the maze to check yet another bag.
oops. just made the maneuver to put my second 20 oz beer in a "to go" cup i got for my water. time to relocate to the closer watering hole. i'll be right back.

so now i have moved and ma a bit of a different surrounding. much cooler bar; they sell BECKS for christ's sake. decided there's no reason not to do this thing all the way. it's been a while since i pushed down the throttle all the way whilst frolicking through the bureaucracy that is US air travel. but apparently now i have to drink this becks beer along with my side of glen fidditch in about three and a half minutes. that is, unless of course, the plane is further delayed. it is no longer in my hands; the amount of my inebriety. every time they delay, i get more alcohol. this is my deal and i am sticking to it. let those bastards deal with me after delaying two or three more times on a stomach full of pain killers, head full of herb and some adult beverage to boot. fuck those bitches.

either way, i am looking forward to my conversations with the stewardess...uh, i mean flight attendant. jesus. i hope mine is one of those gay guys. they're so much more pleasant than the burnt out old hags that have been breathing waterless air for most of their lives so that their face poofs when they talk to you. i find bits of dead skin all over my drinks and my food. the gay guys are clean, showered, well mannered, and most times humorous. i love gay men. just not sexually. ironic, eh?
alright. time to focus on my priorities: drink this shit before take off and have time to squirt before they lock me into my seat.

7:12pm riding the turbulence, shaking and rattl9iing all over the skies. i am glad that i have become numb to the point that this doesn't bother me. boy. it's really giving us the rock'n roll. i think there may be some guy who never got to do enough donuts in his first car. that are some reformed airforce junky pilot who still needs to get his kicks in the air, only now he has the corporate flair behind him.

uh, smoothing out now. well maybe not. this is becoming difficult to write because of how much i am being jerked around so i think i will stop for now...

before the turbulence i had an interesting conversation with my small portion friend.




**i also went to a ranch a few weeks after that with some very dear friends of mine and i believe it was or first carnivore meat fest. i think between three of us we ate about ten pounds of meat in a couple of days. so here's the ranch haiku dated 1-18-04

horses in the rain
runs around no matter what
they must be happy

border collies herd
shiny wet brood mares
one sided "tag" game

rain drops on wet wood
spanking droplets go blop blop
birds still sing in trees

a horse in the field
chews on wet grass and whinnies
wonder what it thinks

migas on my plate
mixed fruit and glass of OJ
settles my stomach

many birds, one tree
no leaves because of winter
serves as jungle-gym

envision the birds
dancing back and forth in trees
life in abundance

cow skull on the wall
probably chewed cud and mooed
when it was alive

chirping birds fly
with wet beaks and shiny wings
the clock keeps ticking


9-12-07

feeling pretty good
gonna get to austin soon
and stumble some where

talked 'bout religion
thought about the truth of it
i'm still processing

gonna see good friends
gonna drink a lot of beer
and send out great vibes

i love good music
playing music is more fun
now lets get it on

try and see my face
smiling at your silliness
you cheeky monkey

stupid stewardess
she won't sell me any beer
she needs some good dick


need a little more
booze for your mama's chili
so we can get lit

listening to this
groovy MUSIC damn capslock
2001



pretty seed band bang
poof in the beautiful sky
now we have flowers

monica breathes air
i like to think it is mine
and we share our breath

on the pain pill plunge
alcohol boosts the progress
no fear of flying

my neck my neck is
not even hurting because
i am slightly cocked.

beethoven makes rain
fall from the eye lids
down the mountainous
cheeks of the child
inside the man

the nonlinguistic expression
of a pain so bold
that the breath is taken out
and replaced by the
this 19th century deaf
madman's mood
whose struggle
wells up inside me like
the last dinosour's
last hour

there is before beethoven
there is after beethoven
there is joy on high
there is a miserable low that only
"bums" making it happen
in the streets of today's life
can comprehend with the proper
understanding of true justice,
and the disciplined practice
of true integrity

beautiful ludwig
grace my ears with another
beethoven beauty

has he come back?
that dreary beaten down shell of a boy
seeking to be a man
in the outter rim of sanity
that was los angeles
in the last decade of the 20th century

that city-shitpot of negativity
which drives men to violence
which drives women to behave as men
where droves of buttoned down
blue-shirt little boys and
bobby sock white-shoe little girls
lose themselves in the madness
never to be seen again
without the prejudice of
knowledge that is meaningless
in a world of lies

i believe he never left
but was passed out.
drunk off the pain.
drunk from the many lost battles
scarred from being ground into the asphalt
and scraped along the sidewalk of sanity

passed out with dribble on his chin
and a hard-on in his pocket
that draws so much blood from the top head
that all there could be was inebriated sleep.


the unconscious dream
of no wakening
no more crying
no more living to die
no more injustice of art
no more forced stupidity by
all the fucking
idiot human savants
lapping it up like
the last saucer of milk
gladly ingesting the ineptitude
gorging on the all falsehoods
imagineable

is he here?
i can smell his breath
and the fearless sense
of truth which drives the madness
through the skull like nails
pounded into an old wooden box made for the dead.
yeah. he's here.
still waking up slowly
from the ten year slumber.

he was just passed out
from too much...

at trident coffee house in boulder...
so my first blog after my amazing trip to see my soul family in austin.
there was so much love in austin. i can never express in words how grateful i am to have been blessed with such a cool group of friends.
the past year was very difficult for me, but as we often do, i made it through it. the sun has risen once again in my life and i see things with eyes that allow the light and bright positives of life to shine down upon me with all their beauty.
i have really begun to let go of negtive thinking. it wasn't easy at first, but i have managed to make it second nature to understand when my mnd drifts into the negative and it gets easier each day to let go of negatives and learn to see "with the right kind of eyes."

i am very excited about the immediate futre, and even NOW.
i saw a movie/documentary called "the secret." it's about the law of attraction and how to apply that law to your life so as to get what you really want out of living here in this world, during this time.
it is not faith based, but scientifically based upon principles of energy and the divine flow of energy that is within us all. it is about learing to focus on what oyu want and not the things you do not want.
i am not one to be a believer, in that i do not have blind faith. in just a month or so after having viewed the movie, my life has changed dramatically.

everything feels lighter. everything seems brighter. the ugliness that is our politcal system, which kept me in a dark negative space for the last decade or so, has seemed to simply disappear.

i know there are many things out ther in the world that need mending, but it all starts wih the individual.

we need to take steps to make sure that our thinking is in line with what it is that we want.

shit. my parking meter is about to expire...damnit.
more to come...

click on this link and believe with me...with everybody.

http://www.global-mindshift.org/memes/wombat.swf