Thursday, December 16, 2010

Kristmas Kard




"Hush it's different this time" she muttered Scroogily
on a Monroe side street, a man split wood angrily visualizing his x-wife
Spam surged through the veins of electronic America blocking needed bandwidth and baud rates
Sears served their millionth something or other..it had a maintenance agreement we are told
Retailers dream of the smiling river of sold

Football fools drool
Have we yet received the Kardashian Kristmas Kard?
The fairy lights twinkle in our yard
Last week I averaged a package a day from the US Postal Service
I informed blue suit Sue of this, (although they are chronically understaffed there)

Styrofoam peanuts can be useful it is true
But let's face it, they are no bubble wrap are they?
Things must be properly packed and shipped ship-shape with strap tape
Elvis once again croons his blue, blue stuff
Don't you wish you too had a fat period, a white jumpsuit period, and a cool sexy time too?

What if Elvis had Richard Nixon eyes?
Would he sing you to sleep sweetly on Christmas Eve?
We have our miracle mile to consider
Squeals announce the present pounce
Incandescing insanity of our humanity

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Did I Write This?


Anne Frank
waiting in Berlin
my turn
going to the doctor monday
They will look at his heart
2-25-08 they will look
like a child looks at a cats bunghole
with wonderment

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Sharing the Ride

If you were really hungry, in fact starving, and finally found some food, like a piece of homemade pie, it would taste exquisitely good, almost painfully pleasurable on your palette. You would eat it slowly, savoring every morsel and really enjoying the slow, methodical, act of eating. If however, you had a friend with you who also had been starving, and they were enjoying the pie as well, you would enjoy the moment even more.

We are curious monkeys, us humans, we need society. It has been documented; a baby monkey if it cannot touch other monkeys, nor have contact with others, will die. Humans when isolated, possibly on a deserted island like Daniel Defoe, will go to extraordinary lengths, risking their very lives, to rejoin the human fold. It almost seems if we cannot share what we see, do and feel, then it hasn’t really happened, like the tree falling silently in the forest. If other human beings cannot acknowledge our experiences I am not sure they matter all that much.

I am thinking of what is important in life’s long luscious journey in terms of accomplishments, goals and dreams. If I run the fastest time ever in the 100 yard dash and no one else bears witness to it, does it count for anything? My most beautiful photo if unseen is just paper, or code. Even if we see something, somewhere, at some time, which truly astounds us doesn’t it tarnish it to be alone? Don’t we often kind of look around, to see if someone, anyone, is there to catch our momentary eye contact, to share in our human hubris of emotion and wowed wonder.

The movie “Into the Wild” explores John Krakauer’s true story of a young man who travels widely, and experiences much beauty and theatric thrills, to die alone, never having really shared it with anyone. It was very sad and in many ways a wasted, wistful life. I think of this now because a friend of mine is traveling alone and seeing many splendid sights he wants to share through the internet. It reminds me of the frustration when I have been in similar situations.

I think this is the cause of such a rapid rise in the various social media networks currently available. If people buy a new phone or gizmo they want to share how it works; and their feelings and viewpoints, in an instant digital reflection similar to writing in a diary or journal, but for the world to see and share in. It is interesting to watch the evolution of new forms of human needs and connectedness.

Of course feedback is also very important, to know you are not alone and are not crazy to think and feel the way you do. Even if in your current location you find yourself having nothing in common with the local populace, if you can reach out somehow to the warm sustaining light stream of the digital world, you can snag a communication lifeline of thought; you can escape the vapid void.

Communication with another of the sublime, supreme moments of our lives seem to have a multiplier effect, like mixing drugs and alcohol. They help us enjoy and re-see, re-experience, things that have become familiar to us. The things new to both are understood better in a wider view, more facets are seen, and more information is taken in with more sets of eyes, which only makes sense.

I once read that people in this modern, mobile world do not have to necessarily be stuck with families that they are genetically tied to. They can pick and choose people who are important to them. If there is an abusive uncle who brings nothing positive into your life there may be a need to let that relationship go. On the other hand people now seem to be spawning digital families and forms of connectedness that were here-to-for impossible. Relationships and common stakeholders can be found in far flung spaces. Our meeting halls have become worldwide; our soap boxes have become broadcast towers, we don’t have to rely on the slick reporter to talk to the man in the street, we can get to know the man in the street ourselves.

I always tell people that the things in life that are truly important are relationships. The movie reel, deathbed memories thoughtfully fondled behind our eyes, as we pass away into the night, will not be of tallying things we owned, it will be memories of the good times we shared with others, people in our far flung families that we touch by type and people in the next room we hold in our arms.

Friday, January 9, 2009

Should I Facebook?


Do I Facebook? No.

I could well be in the minority however. Looking at Alexa, Facebook is numero five in global use and that is pretty high for social networking. I just read during Christmas day Face book had a huge surge in traffic this year. My Space is currently seven, while the useful Craigslist is 39. My Space used to be the rocket to ride, but now if you are over 22 and not in a crappy band you are basically considered a child molester/stalker for My Spacing.

Facebook is supposed to “keep you in contact with your friends”. It would seem if someone was in fact your friend you would call them, or e-mail them, but possibly this contact is a new kind of contact, a casual, voyueresque creature requiring less effort, thought and concentration. The “friend”person can’t ask questions on the phone to find out if you are really listening, this could be handy for relatives who you are somewhat required to stay in contact with, but who really aren’t friends you would hang with, you know, if you weren’t accidentally related to them. It could be these “friends” are really just passing acquaintances in the social salton sea.

At the start, it was used to get to know people in school at Harvard; it makes a great deal of sense to me. Most people are young, and from different parts of the country, and trying to get to know each other and hookup, and screw each other’s brains out, and that makes sense doesn’t it? I think we were all students at one time and thought “hey who is that cute new girl/guy over in the corner”? It helps out to look up the Facebook profile and find out they are a Mormon or Vegan before you start investing in valuable chatup time no?

One of the first companies to buy in was Microsoft and they also have some kind of advertising deal with Facebook. I suppose it makes some strategic sense to have the same kind of thing at Microsoft as at Harvard, to try and bring diverse groups of people together at work. My wife uses the whole social networking concept in her work, so she is a member of damn near all, and experiments with many different platforms and concepts, to see how they interrelate and succeed with or against each other in the great social networking cage match. Who will win out? Will anyone really still Twitter three years from now? I can see why Obama Twittered during the campaign it was like sending a constant bombardment of TV commercials to millions of people for free. Would anyone really care to know though that I was sitting in the airport waiting to go to New York and I was bored? One article I read recently stated that the fallout of Twitter was that regular working folk were finding out that most glamorous star’s lives were actually quite mundane. Really GTFO?

I always thought everyone would just have their own website eventually and that has not materialized. I suppose it is a little too hard to set up, and maintain, and it is not free generally speaking, and so that isn’t working. What is working is a site that is free and very modular and easy to set up. People want the ability to post from cell phones and that includes pictures and text. People want the ability to easily include or exclude whoever they want. They want the flexibility of having various levels of privacy for different areas of their site too. Many posters need significant storage space because all those digital images, and videos and music clips add up after a while. They also want that high school thing of showing off how many “friends” they have, because this makes them feel popular and cool, just like uh..high school cliques. They want to look cutting edge and cool and rad even though all the cutting edge and rad and cool sites all look the same. They want to look like they lead a glamorous life just like Brittany. (See above)
I don’t think any current site offers all this although maybe Facebook comes closest.
One ironic dichotomy is that people think Facebook and networking is must have for work and business contacts. However for every feel good story of meeting someone and making some money together there are ten horror stories of Facebook faux pas. It is a public face and in the super litigious, politically correct, looking for dirt to get ahead over-someone-else’s back world (in this economy); it is like walking through a dark room full of bear traps.

I like this rant:
"A well-meaning friend of mine, whom I love dearly, is always telling me my life isn't fully realized because I don't have a Facebook page. OK, so what would I get with such a glorious thing? "You can promote your blog," she always assures me. Oh, yeah? But my column promotes my blog and my blog promotes my column. How much more promotion do I need? "People can contact you," she adds soothingly. Oh, yeah? Well, I already put my email address at the end of my column and I'm also reachable by phone, fax, text, blog comments, and messenger pigeon. How hard is it to reach me? "But you can make all new friends," she goes on. Oh, yeah? Well, I already know every single person in New York and even a few in Jersey and one in Pennsylvania. And I actually know them in person, not just by typed messages". http://blogs.villagevoice.com/dailymusto/archives/2008/07/fuck_facebook.php

Right now Facebook might be the best we have but I am getting networking fatigue. How many social networks do I have to be on to be socially connected, information spreading and thought leading enough? Next year will LinkedIn or Hit5 be cool and Facebook just another My Space has-been? What if I do get out there and find myself to be just mundane? The horror, the horror.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Snowy Christmas


AHhhh the snow, I am so very tired of it.


My wife wanted snow, she got snow.


My dog is crazy for the snow, although it has gotten too deep now even for her. Oddly, we have more snow here in town in Duvall this year than anywhere else I have seen this year.


We from the Seattle area have seen the old pictures of Seattle at around 1920 and the snow was three feet deep and we wondered why it didn’t do that anymore? Global warming? Weather cycles?


As a kid it seemed that we got fairly deep snow almost every year to make a snowman. Of course I was smaller, and it probably seemed deeper. I do also remember one Christmas as a grade-schooler that was bright and sunny and warm. I preferred the snow back then of course.
One of the longest winters I remember was 1969, the big Boeing layoff, my father was laid off I think six months. He played cards, solitaire, everyday, all morning long, I got tired of watching him. This was when they put up billboards, “will the last person leaving Seattle please turn off the lights”? We had compacted ice on our street for a month.


One time in high school, driving a 1965 Impala, I turned a corner on the way to school and slid into someone’s front yard. I went right up to their front door, at first I laughed and then thought…O SHIT, what if they come out,…amazingly, I was able to back out and continue and it seemed funny again.


Also in high school, driving the same road, I came up to a stop sign on a hill. I had to stop and then just sat and spun. I wanted to back down but my back window was covered with ice. So I got out with a scraper and as I shut the door the vibration broke the tenuous purchase the tires had on the ice. The car started sliding backyard downhill without me in it, the tires didn’t even turn! YIKE! As I chased the car downhill I fell down. Thank goodness no one else was on the road.


Living here now, on a hill, the kids always sled down the hill and make conditions worse than necessary. There have been several cars and four-wheel drive trucks stuck here within one block of the house. Two were stuck right across from our driveway. Things could be far worse though, we could all have no electricity.
Right now it is hard to drive around town because they have so many signs barricading with “road closed” it is like going through a maze to get to the local grocery store. We were going to have people over for Christmas Eve tonight. My mother in Kirkland can’t make it and we decided to go over there, but that seems silly right now. Lisa’s parents on Big Rock Road seem a couple states away.


I have noticed the last couple of years the very worst day of the year to drive, is in fact Christmas Eve. It used to be New Years Eve, because everyone would be so drunk and it was so late. The state and police have advertised against that so much almost no one does it anymore, it is verbotten. Christmas Eve, however, everyone feels obligated to go out and drive, and they don’t want to, so they are pissed off, and drunk as well. They are very angry drivers for sure and on top of it all they have snow this year. So I expect today to be really, really bad. All kinds of people will drive who haven’t driven the last few days. They will kill themselves for Christmas.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Boeing Strike: (thoughts of mine)........

I am disappointed with both sides in the current labor dispute; with Boeing and their “negotiation team” being so arrogant, wrong-headed, and self absorbed; and with the Union, for not being more media aggressive about the future of union jobs and the strategic planning within the company itself.
First off, the whole wrongly conceived notion that hourly union workers don’t care about the company, are greedy and lazy, and want to bleed the company dry is nonsense. Many hourly employees there are from families of generations of Boeing workers. As for myself, both my mother and father worked there when they first came to Seattle. In actuality, these people care about the long term viability and competitiveness of Boeing far more than Johnny-come-lately carpetbaggers like Jim McNerney the C.E.O, and others in management who are looking at short term stock price, their next outlandish bonus, and the golden parachute outta-here as the prime drivers in decision making! The average age of hourly/union employees is somewhere around 47 years old and most have many years of seniority and a pension to try and protect. Most are also either from this area or have settled here and have a great deal of loyalty to the company and to the area. The truth is WE the union members are the true Boeing, not a handful of upper management mercenaries.
Through reading all the various comments and blogs where people who are on the outside, looking in, and don’t really understand the issues one thing becomes clear. Many people think that hourly workers should be happy to just have a job, any job. They should be just happy to have a check, any check. They should never speak out about how their company is run or mismanaged. Even if they have worked there for many, many years and own stock in the company. They should work themselves to death and die in the traces, and never, ever, speak out, or horror of horrors, go on strike. Where this cowardly, daddy-knows-best attitude came from floors me, it seems to be a talking point from the Republican convention. They say we have a bad economy now, so we should be happy with anything, well guess what? The fifties are not coming back. People in this country need to start questioning and questioning hard these management people, and politicians that are selling our country down the river for short term gain.
At the start of the negotiation process the Boeing management team started demanded numerous and significant takeaways from previous contracts, now why would they do that? Having just sold a used car recently, I know when someone really low balls you from the start it makes a person angry; it shows an attitude of disrespect. This approach says that you think the other person in the negotiation is desperate, or dumb, or both and you want to take advantage of them in an unethical way, kicking them in the teeth when they are down. Everyone knows this, it is a universal understanding, so why… (Assuming you wanted to sign a contract and go to work), would you start out this way? It is an antagonistic mean-spirited slant at the very beginning of talks.
The Boeing Company has a huge backlog of orders, has money in the bank and is doing very well in most areas; the Machinists are clearly doing their job and holding up their end. Airbus realizes they can’t currently compete with Boeing looking at the Dollar/Euro exchange rate and are in fact trying to move significant production to the US where costs for experienced, educated workers are cheaper. So when Boeing says they can’t afford to pay the current wages they are lying and everyone who can read knows this. Boeing’s only real thorny issues are the 767 tanker bid and the 787 production delays, which have nothing to do with unions, or wages in the Puget Sound.
These two issues in fact have to do with monumental failures from Boeing’s upper management. The tanker military bid was side-railed by yet another example of unethical behavior by Boeing upper management, something they have a long and well established reputation for. Both of the last two C.E.O’s before the current problem child arrived were involved in ethics scandals and were fired. The 787 has been a failure in scheduling and delivery of historical proportions, being the most costly decision making error in the 86 year history of the Boeing Company, this is mainly due to the holy grail of off-loading. In the past many, many management screw-ups could be fixed by abusing the employees with forced overtime. In this case this isn’t possible and the result is the current fiasco. The Air Force tanker program with spare parts and modifications is considered to be worth 100 billion dollars. The 787 not being able to fly, due to a Pollyanna supply chain strung all over the world, is also costing billions in lost stock price and plane deliveries. Just think what a hit that plane would have been flying through the sky during the last fuel crisis! Think of where the BA stock would be with one of those planes taking off every few days! Of course the fact that Boeing off-loaded so much of the 787 just helped Airbus in their quest for the tanker, arguing that it was a viable business model. The true cost of off-loading isn’t just losing jobs for the United States and giving the competition training and technology, also lost is program security and as Boeing has learned very dearly….basic control of your programs.
When will the 787 fly? Who knows..McNerney states the program is not “leading edge but bleeding edge”, meaning the program will bleed billions of dollars until sometime way down the road supposedly, it breaks even. This money, this lost profit, will never be recouped regardless of his pie-in-the-sky, off load at any cost philosophy. He just needs to be gotten rid of, if anything begs to be off-loaded at Boeing it is the top management, where is the accountability!? His ideas have proven to be abject failures, just as his baseball team mate at Yale, George Bush’s plans have proven beyond any doubt to be catastrophes. We need to cut the apron strings with this type of divisive, short thinking leadership.
In this regard the machinists union should go on the offensive taking out full page ads in the Wall Street Journal, titled “OFFLOADING: a failed aerospace nightmare”. Details should be published about the amount of lost revenue this offloading maelstrom has caused and then compared to how much the wages and benefits package that Boeing says it cannot afford measures up. Also head to head comparisons should be given comparing the number and wages of mechanics at Airbus and the same comparisons for management numbers, tiers/layers of management, and compensation. We all know Boeing doesn’t want that laundry aired. If Boeing really wants to be competitive let’s look at the big expense hitters first and foremost, let’s not step over a $20 bill to pick up a nickel.
Instead of always speaking about how certain new initiatives will save money let’s look at how much they cost and compare. The public has been so brainwashed into thinking off-loading saves money they think it is inevitable, it is not. The simple fact is US workers are not paid the highest in the world. Our economy has been crap for thirty years and the dollar is in the toilet. When looking at huge transportation costs, training, language barriers and so on Boeing’s hourly workforce is a sensible bargain. Since employee turnover is almost non-existent the workforce is very experienced and professional.
Lastly, let me speak about unionization. I had assumed during this current labor dispute it would be the new people that had only a year or two at work that would be afraid to go out. Most of them only make about $14 dollars an hour, which doesn’t allow much for saving money. I spoke to one woman who said, “hey, you don’t understand, I have two kids and am a single mother I am at poverty level”. In addition there are other groups not used to being in unions; hyphenated-Americans from many places like Asia, I wondered how they would react. As it turned out it was these new people who were the angriest at Boeing’s machinations. Boeing has spent a great deal of time and money to change people’s “attitudes” at work. One recent program was called “Investment in Excellence”, designed by Lou Tice of the Pacific Institute. This program was for four days on the clock and it was designed to change the “attitudes” of people. Boeing is so concerned with this whole “attitude” thing that on the 787 they wanted all new, inexperienced people with new fresh outlooks who wouldn’t be poisoned with old-school ideas of people like me.
Of course that is another reason yet why the program is so mind-blowingly behind schedule. The point is Boeing took these new fresh minds, this new fresh clay, and in a very short time with the multiplier effect of out-of-touch management molded them into militant, angry, striking workers! Truly amazing.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Should I shoot that guy?

My wife had noticed a man following us about 25 feet back. He seemed nice enough and was wearing a suit jacket, occasionally he spoke into a radio. We asked our guide who he was; he said a policeman who was a friend of his, hired to watch our backs for pickpockets and keep the more aggressive street vendors from swarming us.

In addition to our guide, and the rear-guard, there was another man whose sole job seemed to be watching me and my photo selection. I had taken a photo of a woman, most likely Muslim, sitting in the street selling vegetables and apparently this was not a good thing. We were in Tetouan, at the Souk or Sunday market, in Morocco.

The tiny alleys were impossibly narrow and dark and I imagined that if we had no escort this whole thing might go quite differently. At one point I went to take a picture of a man in a shoe repair/ cobbler type of store which appeared to have been inherited from his great grandfather. It was a crevice maybe six feet wide and filled with old leather and tools with the man’s lined face barely visible in back, this was the scene I came so far for. He saw me photographing him however, and making an angry noise, he came after me!

Should I shoot that shot? Sometimes I wonder. Am I being rude, am I intruding, do I have any rights in this photographic interlude that I travelled so far and paid so much money to achieve?
Ethics in photography gets a lot of play now in terms of talking about digital manipulation of images, what is real and what is photo-shopped fake? Also talk of “staged” news story images, and the meanings and context possibly being changed, are debated. Nature photography is concerned with disturbing animals that may be endangered. Here however, I am speaking of taking pictures of people, in their natural surroundings, for my own pleasure and use while traveling.

I wouldn’t mind asking for a release or even paying for a shot of people on a foreign street or going to Sunday market in Morocco but it just takes so much time. After a tedious negotiation I am usually rewarded with a posed “touristy” picture that I wanted to avoid in the first place. For me the ideal is to photograph people in their natural surroundings living life undisturbed and unaware, therein lies the problem. If they knew they were being photographed would they object? If they don’t know and they are not interfered with, is it OK? I mean no harm and simply want to capture my wonderful adventure to share with friends and family for the most part. So do I have that right?

Oftentimes, in situations where I want to be incognito, I will use the flip-out 360 degree LCD screen to make it appear I am doing, or looking at, something else other than my subject. Also, sometimes with a smaller camera I might set the timer and put the camera on a table out of the way and out of mind, to capture an image. When the camera is up to my face and aimed right at someone, it can be quite intimidating. People certainly wonder; what is he doing, what does he want with me? This is true whether in Seattle or across the world.

Each situation is different and some are hard to decipher. My personal guide tried to steer me by saying “ah… this is a nice picture”, and pointing, he thought helpfully, at one of his standard kitsch scenes. I tried to be nice and show interest and occasionally snapped the shutter.
In this way we seemed to balance in a ying-yang of privacy and perceived decorum against my eye’s hunger for the exotic and spicy marketplace images I wanted to burn in my memory, for the rest of my life.

Top Ten Things I Hate

The Top-Ten list of things I Hate…..


1. Huge four wheel drive tucks for commuting: Nothing says “god I am afraid of being perceived as non-masculine” like driving around an enormous gas sucking monster to merely haul your beer-belly ass to work. Bonus demerits for duallies, quad cab with long beds (the 35 footers), and super high wind-shear rigs. They should all have bumper stickers that say “every time I romp on the gas I kill another Marine”. As long as these idiots, who never haul anything, never tow anything, drive these abortions to work every day the price of gas is way too low.

2. Little pregnant dresses for chicks: I am sure you have seen them; women wear them as shirts/tops, often over jeans. The bodice is tight and then they poof out little small dresses for obese girls. I cannot figure out the attraction for any woman to ever wear one. All they do is look unflattering and make even a skinny girl look overweight. I can only assume these hideous apparitions are “comfortable” any time something astoundingly inappropriate (such as grey sweat pants) are worn in public it is announced “they are comfortable”. Of course this is just another way of stating “I am lazy”. I don’t mow my yard because it is “more comfortable”. Similar in way to how older women cut their hair Prince Valiant/Dyke short and then announce, “It is easy to care for”.

3. Costco: Yes, I realize if you are running an orphanage they have cheaper food. If you want to wander around the aisles dodging carts the size of Fiats and then wait in lines the length of a Disneyland holiday weekend nightmare, this is your baby. You can take your huge four-wheel drive and burn your five-dollar a gallon gas to go into town and fight through this mess to save small prices, how grand. People get there before the store opens on Saturday anticipating the crushing rush. The membership card is the final insult to injury. (Yes this is tongue in cheek, since I don’t shop there it has little affect on me).


4. Republicans that still support Bush: It is one of the funniest things I have ever seen to watch these tunnel-vision morons try vainly to say Bush was still a good president, that he was “good for the country”. Some have even said they wished they could vote for him again. The most amusing is he has screwed these people the hardest, (see 1). The damage that Bush has done is irreparable; no one will ever again trust the United State’s motives. He hasn’t just destroyed the US economy but our perception in the world as a leader, a country that was on the moral high ground. Can we say we are any better than the USSR or Communist China in regards to human rights? Imprisoning people, executions, people arrested without charges, and torture? No, not any more.

5. Applelites: These are the strange birds that have somehow been brainwashed to believe that their lives should be devoted to turning every person they meet into Apple computer zombies. They spread the word like electronic “Johnny Appleseed’s”, screaming about new Apple products, or the Apple store or some damn Apple thing ad-naseum. In trying to think of a comparison it is difficult. Mormons come to mind but their conversions are all about money and power. Amway comes to mind but that is money again. Possibly Vegans are a good comparison. Militant fucks out to meddle and change the world to their twisted view because they are so lonely, bored and unhappy. Applelites constantly cite statistics about their increasing share. This is only for the US; the rest of the world sees no point in paying triple-price to join the Apple Elite.

6. Wallmart: Wallmart is lionized in most business papers for their innovative business techniques. This is like praising Hitler for modernizing Germany. Wallmart represents and maximizes everything bad about American business; offloading, cheapness, screwing their employees, destroying small business, hiring illegal workers, disobeying labor laws, nothing is too low or underhanded for the Wallmart billionaires, the Walton’s, America’s new robber barons. They literally have no redeeming qualities whatsoever. Sadly, many people are forced to shop there. Once they drive out of business all the businesses that historically served many small towns, nothing is left. They are the maggots of retail.

7. People supporting illegal Mexicans/Immigrants: These people say that if they were not here no one would do the work they do. This is both dumb and racist. It says basically these Mexicans will also gleefully do the menial labor jobs never aspiring to move up the socio-economic ladder, nonsense. America is already overcrowded and having a huge wave of illegal workers to drive down wages helps no one but the already wealthy, the Wallmarts, and people who want to use and abuse these workers who have no legal recourse for fighting labor abuses.

8. One issue voters: These wunderkinds have ruined the middleclass of the United States of America. For the privilege of being against abortions and supporting the NRA they elect snobbish oil whores like Georgie “Herbert Hoover” Bush; who has bankrupted the US, made us much less safe, convinced the rest of the world to despise us, and of course enabled even China to openly laugh at us if we bring up human rights ever again. How did it get to this? That people can’t realize what is really important to them and their families…the bread and butter issues? They have been brainwashed by special interest groups and thankfully the Catholic Church leads the charge into their own special stupid hateful tiny world.


9. The Catholic Church: Easily, hands down, the single most evil institution in the history of the world. You might say what about the Nazis? They only lasted about eight years and killed off a few million. The Roman Empire? They only lasted 1000 years and did provide some good influences in law, engineering etc. The Catholic Church is 2000 years old and still making people miserable all around the world today. They have been responsible for the torture and murder of entire nations, entire genetic ethnic groups gone, because of them. When having the historical opportunities to stand up against despots like Hitler, they climb in bed with them instead, and always have. When they ran Europe for 1000 years it was known as the “dark ages” due to their never ending battle against knowledge, science and art. They are the bottom of the bottom, their meanness and combativeness has been responsible for many, many of the worlds wars sice their inception.

10. The Police: It is very hard to tell what the police forces of the US think their true purpose is but it is certainly not to serve and protect the public. It seems to be collecting revenue and solidifying their power base. They brag about driving up the price of street drugs which we all know just increases violent crime. Certain religious groups being militant by nature, such as the Mormons, are taking over certain branches of the state police such as the FBI. How does this help us? It doesn’t. What a bizarre state of affairs and yet we cannot do anything against them or we will be cutting the publics safety and be deemed unpatriotic to boot!

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Seattle Times Article-Travel in Spain

Special to The Seattle Times


When traveling around the world, some things seem universal — toddlers playing peek-a-boo and taxi drivers lying to you.
The drivers don't stretch the truth just to gouge their fares; there exists a variety of reasons for their ploys. Indeed, many places, fed up with their antics, have provided set rates or fare readouts to control them.
My wife, Lisa, and I were at the Castillo de Castellar in the Andalusia section of Spain and had requested a taxi to drive us to the next town north where we could catch the train to Ronda. The driver stated, "No, the train does not stop there."
I told Lisa, "Five bucks says he's lying," and of course he was. He wanted to go back and join his knot of friends drinking café con leche, smoking cigarettes and discussing soccer.
Ah well, it pays to be flexible.
We had arrived at the Castillo de Castellar train station four hours early. Inexplicably, the schedule we'd received from our hotel was wrong, most likely out of date. So, looking to kill some time, we resurrected an idea we'd had before — the "hippie castle." I had read that some time back, hippies had moved into an old castle, squatted there and set up some kind of Bohemian village.
This is where dragging along a heavy laptop and a bit of research the night before help out. It is always nice to have options.
So off we went, up the mountain. There were virtually no tourists, or guides, or any money-draining devices, just a walled castle with people living and working inside. There were literally cottages, si viende (for sale) there, too, and a couple of places for rent.
Walking along, seeing the stones in the street and old stone stairs, I could imagine the hundreds of feet over hundreds of years that wore them to their current smooth patina. I thought of someone pulling a cart or carrying a baby through the old town. The fact that people were living there now added to the image. It was an anti-sterile-museum tonic; it seemed more accessible to my imagination.
The train ride to Ronda took us slowly up in elevation and it reminded me of the Ellensburg area. It started to rain, and when we finally got there it was pouring. We started off to find "the bridge." I didn't have the actual name on my lips, but an Internet search of Ronda, Spain, always shows the same picture of an amazing bridge, spanning a deep chasm between two plateaus cut by a river.
Of course, many tourists were already standing in doorways, out of the deluge, looking at travel books, trying to determine the same thing.
By the time we got to the bridge, we were soaked. I had my larger camera in its case in the backpack wrapped up to stay dry, and I was using my small weatherproof Olympus trying to capture this stunning view. After struggling a bit, I determined only Ansel Adams in a helicopter could do Ronda photographic justice.
Drying off in a "matador bar," my wife and I debated running for the train or waiting it out. Madly, we decided to go for it. We walked crazily through the rain, dodging umbrella points as fast as we could. Wet and exhausted, we cheered when we realized we were right on time.

Monday, December 3, 2007

Machine Gun Girl

Does the names of all the pierceable parts
Roll off your pin-tamed tongue
Machine-gun girl?
Blood running down your face, your desirous rush, your spattered pearls?

Desiring difference so disco desperately
Whirling, writhing , sameness of sight
The flailing arms and lipstick legs of love
Gnashing gnarly whinnying whites

Hopeful still, slightly shocking, the wanton laddy, fodder for gawking?
Lurid lace, two girls kissing, MySpace
The Spanish Mohawk weirdly foo-foo fluff?
Should your baited breath, sing dirges of death?

Are you riding to battle, in downtown Seattle, outlaw-biker gang colors enough?
The tribal tattoo, a silly Halloween fool
A child’s dream, of being rough, tuff and sure enough, tattered stuff
Thorny mast, past full bloom

A 24-7 bastion of ball-busting fusion
A cacophony cart wheeling confusion
Too much trying, too tragically hip
With pouty ,poor, little punctured-ass lips

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Birthday_Girl

Glancing the godforsaken glass
With my impatient toothy keys
Listening for soundless vibrations
Seeking, the peering peeking person

As your face appears like the quarter moon vanilla sky

Towely, wet and wild you prance forth!
Making my heart skip, stutter-step, stop
Splendidly, nature naked
Dripping with delicious delight

We meet mid-kitchen hardwood’s embrace

Ensuing of furious fumbling
Kiss killing the passionate persistence
Winnowing the want of hunger eyed suns
Stair-stepping travel tossing tussle

Bed-blinded with cool cotton’s caress

I rock forward, into you
Your warm wetness welcomes
Soft sounds surrender spicy skin
Mysterious sameness overwhelms

Intelligent innocence incarnate

Calm comfort comes a calling
Leaving you still sleeping soundly
In your welcoming, wantonly warm, bed
And in leaving, know you there, happy in the knowing

Bordered by the black-blind deaf- dog

The many-wrecks road home curves to entwine me
Assiduous asphalt assaults
Feeling the lonely disconsolation
Of being apart from my love

Monday, September 3, 2007

Stormy Whispers

From Him:



As a scheming child
When the storm grew dangerously dark
The brazen wind shifting shamelessly
I would sneak outside
To crawl in my red wagon

For my mast I had a splendid bamboo pole
My giggling hands found it insanely suitable
A blanket served as sail
The wind whipped me wild
What fun for me!

Wagon wheels screamed and so did I
As I contemplated future mysteries
Delighted, in the knowing, that someday
I would no longer have be childish
Confident, in learning all-powerful big-people magic

I could explore many matters of my making
Like little girls
I had cute kissed nearby neighbor Laura Hamlin
Her blonde mouth tasted oddly, salty sweet
But I liked it in some inescapable, inexplicable way

I knew these girls had something cooking
Working feverishly to figure it out
Playing Doctor to explore their nakedness
Were they an acquired taste?
What in hell did it all mean?

And now I see your appraising gaze
From your learned, limpid, lake-like eyes
Your festive hair
Your nubile twisting body
Ripe with ecstatic, esoteric girl knowledge

Now no wagon can thrill me with a scare
No furtive sail can pull me through the air
Before I was forgetfully fine, ricocheting down the hall
Now, lately, I am lacking and a little lonely
When you are not there

The mysterious sameness of powerful promises
Thoughts simmering on low heat
Halloween winds whistle near
Deliciously, you are salty sweet
As you whisper stormy kisses in my ear



From Her:


I invite you to girl-world
never giving you the password
or code
or handshake
but you are not blinded by this secrecy
but a welcome guest....

just as I am
learning to be a woman
at the touch of your lips, hands
mind

The Wet World

On Haines Wharf's ancient spine
The timbers would hop and jump squealing with pain
Of various vehicles long remembered
Sea salt smell and boat motors blue smoke
Ever-greedy sea gulls gliding

In the back, in a "off limits to public” place
By the small shake shack, with opaque wizened windows
Where the boat lift motor was haphazardly lounging
With murky mysterious mixtures milling about in rusty cans
And old tools and rags of course

There was a large crack amongst the boards
And peering through this rent in the pier
A door to a watery world was opened
The information revealed varied with the tides,
The sunlight, the weather and nature's perversity

Once, a huge school of piling perch had gathered
They had bunched up in a fixed formation
Sculling in shaded standstills
Slowly, silently, they slipped along the sand
Revealing the secrets of their species

I never studied schoolwork more studiously
Spying intently how they ate
Visually separating the blue perch from the silver
Whispering to my buddy Brock
As if they could hear our impish intentions

Imagining shallow water stealth spookiness
Instead of fat contentment
It seemed like a Rockwell black-and-white print
Piscatorial perfection
Until all hell broke loose when hooked

The blurs of fat fighting furies
Stumbling, squirming, yelling to stay connected
Threading the beauty into steaming sunlight
Into our world
Of secret smiles and crayon color

Silver sides shivering with sparkling scaled stripes
Miracles of cunning creation for us to touch
A true wet wonderment
We exchanged an intimate knowledge
Until we sadly kissed them and sent them home

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Darwin's Painting

Darkly sweating, sultry secrets
Blues and greens without color
Fairies fly, with fine honed fury
A film Noir clicking, sounds of mother

Wet woods dripping, leaves of love
Choking, uncombed, manes of moss
Natures’ hell-bent, heaving, breast
Swirling mist, and all the rest

Creatures live, and creatures perish
Maslow’s hierarchy, it never varies
Demented desires, a desperate dash
They tried, they died, they did their best

They run weeping, so death afraid
The blood of innocents, slowly seeping
So very rich and ruby red
Brutally ballistic, the hunger fed

God believes in Darwin’s painting
The labyrinth still stands, slowly gaining
They faint, they fade, they fail, they fall
Angelic, chaste, clean and crimeless

Saturday, June 9, 2007

The uncatchable fish

The uncatchable fish
Truly a river god
A wonder
So very proud of his longevity
His radiant fins skull slowly

Has he graduated at the top of his class?
Has he built a robust business?
Does he have a trophy wife?
Is he a quoted author?

No
Though he bested the one who has
He has beat the one who is
He wears his scars proudly
In his piscatorial perfection

When younger, just a sprat really
He would jump into things greedily
He wanted to be first
To grab the prize and run

But the sting of sharp realization
Has made him philosophical
He has become methodical
A bit of a sage really

The most beautiful yellow mayfly
Is just one of many for the tasting
The most perfect tidbit
Is another’s bitter pill of destruction

Time is on his side
Look twice and bite once he has learnt
Think about what you are doing
And why you are doing it

Is the timing right?
If not turn your back and walk away
The early bird doesn’t get the worm
The early bird gets nailed to a wall

The youngsters come and go
Many don’t stay long enough to create an impression
Just blurs of color and motion
They think they are indestructible….HA!

is death like sleeping?

Is heaven like dreaming?
Has jelly-roll jesus
Rough hewn my suite

Holy hand wrought
Before human thought
A delicious golden teat

Is life like cheating
Crawling creeping charm
Jitterbug in haste

Is death like sleeping
So very chocolate warm
Give me her to taste

Quaking nervous moments
Chiding my higher power
Purple lost and dour

Sleepiness of aches
Painful pill to take
Waking the wrong hour

The narrow hissing road
Tongue testing tear
Biting streams of thirst

Will they help you if you ask?
Will they reach you if you grasp
When you’re at your very worst

Let me close my eyes
To dive dark inside
Swimming through the heat

As I lie down beside her
Let me smell her hair
For someday we shall meet

We will kiss each other’s mouths
We will arch each other’s brows
Forever we will sleep

Friday, April 6, 2007

My Addiction

Like licking honey
off a sharp knife
my addiction

Sinful eyes of want
soul searing need
loving affliction


She whispers prayers
in the night
to salt my dreams


As an animal
cinnamon-sweet
carnal screams

So true and clear
her black-green
jealous heart


She claws my back
she draws my blood
she tears me apart


she beckons
pain to vanish
my addiction

Friday, March 9, 2007

Windows of the mind

Well religion is an interesting thing; it is a type of window into the human mind. Where ever you go they seem to have some kind of religion to explain the unexplainable. I suppose in some ways it saves time. When a kid asks where did the world come from? Where do we go when we die? You can just trot out the standard line.

The Arabs have reason to be pissed at us really, we continually go over there, where we have no business, and try and control them, and oh yes, kill them. Things were more or less fine until the crusades and the West started that…not them. Although many people think it was just to get Jerusalem into Christian hands again it was mainly about looting and pillaging and making a buck. One thing I enjoy is medieval history. Did you know that one of the big deals during the Crusades was finding Christian artifacts? Things like a piece of the cross, or Jesus’ shroud or maybe the lance that pierced Jesus’ side? These things would be put into the local cathedral in town and then the faithful would go on a pilgrimage throughout Europe to see them, touch them, pray over them, and get just a little closer to baby Jesus. It is funny in a way that even back then the local nobles were trying to boost tourism. What better way to do that then sack Jerusalem again?

Of course if Iraq had no oil we wouldn’t be there now. Cheney and all that lot don’t care two whits about “Regime change” and human rights and all that rot. Iraq was never any threat to us and I wrote about that before we invaded. Iraq and the world in general is a more dangerous place by far, now, than before we invaded….ah well.

The thing about religion that I find fascinating is when there is proof that the particular beliefs are bullshit, the people still believe. They discount the evidence and still go along. The Mormon religion is a perfect example of this. They have a written history from the start. The Mormon Church has been involved with all kinds of shady dealings, even recently. The Mormons are the only large group that for years has condoned sexual abuse of youngsters (other than the Catholic church of course), even Brigham Young “married” 14 year old twins that he was legal “guardian” for. When my little door-to-door friends come around I discuss this with them. The previous two came by several times; they even mowed my lawn at one point. The last two though got mad at me. They kept telling me to “pray about it” to find the truth about their religion. I told them to “read” to find the truth. As they went down my driveway they were yelling PRAY! I yelled back READ!!! HAHA!!

People always say that a religion or belief in a religious system has to be based on faith. I frankly don’t buy that. To me faith is something that is earned, not something that is drilled into your young head by rote, or something that is simply accepted as the belief-du-jour. Nor should faith circumvent troublesome things like facts. But it does, each and every day. I can honestly say with no hesitation the world in general is a far worse place with religion, than without it.
John Lennon’s song is very easy to imagine.
The only religious practices that are worth the powder and shot to blow them to hell are those that do some good, measurable good, right here and now. Things like meditation for instance provide benefits. Beliefs that living a good life will bring good back to you are helpful. The concept of Karma is helpful. The concepts where you can live your life as a total ass and at the last possible second accept Jesus and go to heaven, those kinds of beliefs, are either harmful or at best useless. Beliefs where if you badmouth the church you should be killed or tortured are not helpful to the human condition. Regardless of what some Muslims will say if you are labeled a heretic or disagree with their teachings you are okey-dokey to kill. I have read the teachings of Muhammad and the Quran I know what they say. Both the Quran and the Bible are books of violence and intolerance.

When you look around the world and find religious violence, almost always Christianity or Islam are involved, many times both. I have to wonder….if neither of these two religions had ever existed would we be better off? Or worse off? I have to say the world would be better off without them.

Thursday, March 8, 2007

bloggage

Recently, a friend of mine posted some comments on his blog about police being revenue collectors and how he was bent out of shape about it. I responded in the comments section and not only was he ENRAGED but he even ran and got his wife to tail gun me on the turn-about.

That was fine and good with me, but then he just kept going ON and ON about it. I even called him today and he was still in a finely-honed fury that I should question his judgment on his missive.

So I have asked him, why do you have a blog? Is it just a family album? He has even titled his blog “the ranting loon”, which would indicate he is ranting and raving, and he is crazy, would it not?

Wikipedia says: A blog is a user-generated website where entries are made in journal style and displayed in a reverse chronological order.
Blogs often provide commentary or news on a particular subject, such as food, politics, or local news; some function as more personal online diaries. A typical blog combines text, images, and links to other blogs, web pages, and other media related to its topic. The ability for readers to leave comments in an interactive format is an important part of most early blogs.
Ah well, what do I know? I thought the idea was to get some lively comment and public discourse!

I told him “hey if it bothers you that much then go ahead and erase it”! It was the most interesting thing ON the blog! HAHA!!

He did……

Friday, March 2, 2007

enough

On the way to work today I wasn’t in the best of moods, I really didn’t want to get up, and it seemed dreary and uninviting outside in the big grey world. But I dutifully went and on the way started listening to a new audio book.

I usually like mysteries but when I had gone to the used bookstore in town this weekend there wasn’t much. I was leaving with pursed lips when the owner said “hey Ed, the wife and I were listening to something lately and you might like it”. I asked what it was called and he allowed as he didn’t know. “I try and drive the car and she is in charge or taking in and out and re-winding and all of that.”

So it was called “Havana”. I immediately thought of that Robert Redford movie a few years back that never did anything. You can’t go by that though. Sometimes a book will have the same title as a movie with no relation. I read a book called “Lost in Translation”, by Nicole Menes and it had nothing to do with the Bill Murray movie, although I liked them both.

It starts out in Cuba and they are talking of assassinating Fidel. Then it switches to Siberia and some prisoners there. One prisoner named 4715 is playing another guy cards. The pot is a cockroach. They are starving and the cockroach is protein, he makes a very big deal about eating it, even going so far as giving a speech, none to the pleasure of his bunkmates.

He is then called into the office or whatever and allowed a hot shower to clean up for a visit. His describing of the shower and soap, something he had been without for months, or maybe years, was very funny. It put me in a good mood just thinking about someone so hard up a cockroach and a shower made them feel happiness, in the first time, in a long time. I smiled while driving in.

For some reason, just now, I was thinking of when I first left home. My parents had wanted to charge me room and board. I was going to school, and working a job, but that wasn’t enough I guess. They threw out a figure of $125.00 a month! I laughed at them. Why on earth would I pay THAT, I asked, when I have no privacy here?

I started looking in old Everett, in large old houses by the water, on the hill above the paper plants. Many had been turned into rooming houses and were cheap. I looked and looked. Finally I moved in with my girlfriend. We had nothing.

When I moved out I had assumed my bedroom furniture was mine. My parents however, had other ideas. They said they had paid for it and tried to sell it to me if I remember right. I told them by no means, they should keep it, and treasure it.

My girl did better, her parents let her have her single wide bed, tiny dresser and maybe a night stand. That was it, all we had.

Amazingly, we rented a two bedroom apartment in Lynnwood with hardwood floors, a deck, and a fireplace for $150.00 a month. I remember sitting on the shag carpeting together, sitting with our rumps flat on the floor not a stick of furniture in sight. We looked into each others eyes and laughed, a silly, childish, game-playing, mirthful laugh.
We were playing the game called “grown-ups” and so far we were losing. But we had each other and that was enough.