Maybe Jesus was. I am a historian, so I am trained not to be attached to any version of the past. We guess at it, but work hard at being objective. We gather data and make up stories to connect the dots. Stories, to us, are stories; not marching orders.
Im not a Buddhist, but I have stolen from them, and many others too, in order to make up stories that are just guesses at best. I’m pretty sure that they are not offended. I love stories. I love listening…Continue
I am certain the best of what I am grew out of the hardships that I had no choice but to plow through numb as I could keep myself and still function at the assigned tasks.
The gift of a paid for doublewide in the hills above the bay, and sixty two years of life, I am grateful for. The higher level of play I know for certain exists has batted me about tremendously . I am wounded, but not dead when I should or could easily have been so. There is always…Continue
The future is in here and in there to. The past is as cat out of the bag crazy as you care to call it. I’m willing to come or go as you please, because I’m waiting and seeing. My universe is mastered by me. Yours is up for grabs.
I have paper work, not that it would keep me alive longer than had I not bothered to master anything. Anti intellectualism is peaking. I argue my credentials to be the accidental byproduct of research, but in some circles…Continue
This is my first pancake free Saturday in four weeks. The fog of June is upon us, but lifts every day here before noon. I miss my estuary, but not the winters in Monmouth County, where Fort Monmouth closed and I departed the same week in June of 2011. I drove out of my native state in the Red Rocket on this day, 6/15 ; eight years ago today.
I have traded former colony for former republic, and started from scratch as a refugee/immigrant from a place that means…Continue
AI decides up from down. The blade scrapes with precision, not to cut, to level , but not exactly. A closer look shows pitch, by design.
Who prevails on a level playing field? Who is willing to chance the scales, and live or die with those results. Who calls the shots? Who cuts the pie?
What is fair?
I watch, waiting and seeing, as the world decides our fate. A brain dead MIC, scrambles, but the axe…Continue
“ They all do it” - collude, he meant.
Oligarchs: Nimble them be, the best of them, posing as business folk, but more like warlords....Licensed to kill, and/or sub the wet work out.
Target: The White House
Deer Island. Masters of the dark side gather to gloat. Imagine that. I went to night school, mostly, before and after my free tuition deal ended the first week of my sixth semester in early 1978. I rang the bell, and walked off not fully knowing then that I had been knocked off. It was my thing, this thing of theirs, and there was no my way, I just did not know.
Who did? What I did know I could not articulate. My psyche was being crafted into a design my…Continue
Navigational aids are not directional cue cards. Received signals let the lost know where they are, not where to go next. Waiting and seeing is what we were taught to do when lost.
We knew how to stay put. Waiting and seeing is not as easy as it seems, or exactly the same as staying put. Some just run crazy into the woods and some just give up. I never got lost at sea. I was out…Continue
Two conscious Breaths and there she is; reality. Up here in the hills above the bay the highway noise is not impossible to hear but easy enough to ignore. A strong reminder, just in case. I need reminders.
I need to remember to breathe consciously. Breathing consciously tunes my perspective into a universally shared energy stream that I forget about. The hardest part of reality is remembering that physics is real. American Culture does all it can to bury…Continue
As we wind down to the end of Lorianne’s thankless tenure, for which many of us are thankful, I am endeavoring to create closure for myself in this space, from which I have thoughtlessly projected into cyberspace to save myself from a bad block post the SCOTUS pick in the fall of 2018
I hardly require such attention. Yet I returned to OS to get what I got from OS in 2009, Maybe more 360 bits, worse then these recent ones...two editors picks out of all of them. I…Continue
So, the soccer moms moms got their contraceptives, and then cracked a bottle of Chardy and went to Suburbia of the I Sing into the sunset, bras burnt, and that was that.
Meanwhile coffin loads of agency dope were killing of all who were black, poor, and ignorant enough to want a ticket to ride the H train out of poverty for a few hours, courtesy of the White right. Roe verses Wade brings them out, those college girls...but for decades ethnic…Continue
Charlie Abel, my Captain Charlie, chief of civilian personnel, “out at the fort” survived D day. I never knew he was in France, until he died, and I knew him since I could walk. I never knew they gave him the bronze star, either.
I went to work for Charlie in 1972, after volunteering. I never worked for the GSA or the Army. I worked for Charlie. I don’t think there is a record of this, anywhere. I never knew Charlie was the chief of civilian personnel. I was a…Continue
The goat boy. In the hills I never saw, as the estuary was flat and goat free. What I don’t know about anatomy would fill a book. I paid her rent, that one, the one who studied anatomy, in 1976. It did not last long.
Before one can practically play the Quixote, a certain number of prerequisites; hurdles, obstacles, challenges, and failures seem to appear to needing have been checked off a cosmic list; a broadening...No stretching, yes stretching, as in bent…Continue
Our Salon never was our salon. Open Salon was closed. Trauma and traumatic brain injuries leave me wondering, then forgetting, over and over again, most of what I remember.
Our Salon posts are linked to Open Salon posts, and all will be gathered at some point, if they have not been already. Is there really free speech? Free thought? Managed care? Managed dissent?
I’ve never not questioned my thinking. I’m fine with being wrong most…Continue
, I had met the Hu’s on the bus. Anybody that was friendly was my friend. Both the brothers smiled cautiously when I approached them. Perhaps it was 1972 in the fall.
I was, at fifteen also committed to Signal Corps, been voted Crow Patrol leader, made Life Scout, nominated and passed the Order of the Arrow ordeal . In addition I worked both commercial and party boats as a mate.
JP was a year younger than I, and a rich kid from the…Continue
Laryngitis is not going to get one very far in counter intelligence. I held the ground at the diner Sunday morning -I took the expected cheap shots as well as I could. Reinforcements were required. There was nothing left to do after some uninspired pecking away at Raytheon5 except No Country For Old Men.
Not that I needed cheering up, because the glow of Fargo had not entirely faded from Saturday’s escape into a fuzzy, muted,…Continue
Pancakes kicked the stuffing out of me, not that I ate one; I never have eaten one, at least not at the Lion’s Pancake Breakfast’s I have been volunteering for a few years now. I’ve had an ongoing battle with my uniform even without pancakes. I’m not wearing the uniform anyway on principle, until 2021. I have had to violate that once or twice to stay uniform in the field, but mostly I’ve stuck to it.
I do wear a Lion’s apron, with my name on it. I’m not exactly…Continue
Pecking away at Raytheon5 yesterday, and then my voice went away. Short staffed always, our biggest Saturday of the year is usually today at the beach. Kite surfers, car show goers; packing in. Lots of pancakes, always.
Gestures. Being there is a gesture. The godmother hates surprises. I show up; It’s my strong suit, always has been. 6:20 am, there. Gestures help when words won’t squeak out. Lots of nods.
I awoke thinking of…Continue
It’s all or nothing at all.
Winter, not the MAD nuclear winter we ducked and covered under Ike, but the brain numbing chill that makes you want to hibernate, seems to be knocking like the wolf at the brick house of the third pig. I see this one in animation. The wolf’s mouth is giganticly huffing and puffing.
She is a brick house. But Science knew once, just how brickly her house was and how much she could stand. Science still…Continue
Mao spoke directly to his base, too.
I studied under Chinese History PhD born too late to be sent down, but he did parade tearful survivors through our class of clueless Rutgers undergraduates, nobody in that room could extract a tear from my too old to be here nearly fifty shooters eye, older even than the refugee PhD, from whom I could not extract an A, because I argued that fear and love were not expressed the same, and this was beyond him…Continue