Friday, April 07, 2006

U.S. urged to apologize for 1930s deportations

Updated 4/5/2006 6:57 AM
American-born Ignacio Pina, 81, returned to the USA after 16 years in Mexico.
By Dan MacMedan, USA TODAY
American-born Ignacio Pina, 81, returned to the USA after 16 years in Mexico.
By Dan MacMedan, USA TODAY
Pina, then 6, at right front row, and siblings lived in Montana before they were deported.

His father and oldest sister were farming sugar beets in the fields of Hamilton, Mont., and his mother was cooking tortillas when 6-year-old Ignacio Piña saw plainclothes authorities burst into his home.

"They came in with guns and told us to get out," recalls Piña, 81, a retired railroad worker in Bakersfield, Calif., of the 1931 raid. "They didn't let us take anything," not even a trunk that held birth certificates proving that he and his five siblings were U.S.-born citizens.

The family was thrown into a jail for 10 days before being sent by train to Mexico. Piña says he spent 16 years of "pure hell" there before acquiring papers of his Utah birth and returning to the USA.

The deportation of Piña's family tells an almost-forgotten story of a 1930s anti-immigrant campaign. Tens of thousands, and possibly more than 400,000, Mexicans and Mexican-Americans were pressured ? through raids and job denials ? to leave the USA during the Depression, according to a USA TODAY review of documents and interviews with historians and deportees. Many, mostly children, were U.S. citizens.

Related story: Some stories hard to get in history books

If their tales seem incredible, a newspaper analysis of the history textbooks used most in U.S. middle and high schools may explain why: Little has been written about the exodus, often called "the repatriation."

That may soon change. As the U.S. Senate prepares to vote on bills that would either help illegal workers become legal residents or boost enforcement of U.S. immigration laws, an effort to address deportations that happened 70 years ago has gained traction:

? On Thursday, Rep. Hilda Solis, D-Calif., plans to introduce a bill in the U.S. House that calls for a commission to study the "deportation and coerced emigration" of U.S. citizens and legal residents. The panel would also recommend remedies that could include reparations. "An apology should be made," she says.

Co-sponsor Rep. Luis Gutierrez, D-Ill., says history may repeat itself. He says a new House bill that makes being an illegal immigrant a felony could prompt a "massive deportation of U.S. citizens," many of them U.S.-born children leaving with their parents.

"We have safeguards to ensure people aren't deported who shouldn't be," says Jeff Lungren, GOP spokesman for the House Judiciary Committee, adding the new House bill retains those safeguards.

? In January, California became the first state to enact a bill that apologizes to Latino families for the 1930s civil rights violations. It declined to approve the sort of reparations the U.S. Congress provided in 1988 for Japanese-Americans interned during World War II.

Democratic state Sen. Joe Dunn, a self-described "Irish white guy from Minnesota" who sponsored the state bill, is now pushing a measure to require students be taught about the 1930s emigration. He says as many as 2 million people of Mexican ancestry were coerced into leaving, 60% of them U.S. citizens.

? In October, a group of deportees and their relatives, known as los repatriados, will host a conference in Detroit on the topic. Organizer Helen Herrada, whose father was deported, has conducted 100 oral histories and produced a documentary. She says many sent to Mexico felt "humiliated" and didn't want to talk about it. "They just don't want it to happen again."

No precise figures exist on how many of those deported in the 1930s were illegal immigrants. Since many of those harassed left on their own, and their journeys were not officially recorded, there are also no exact figures on the total number who departed.

At least 345,839 people went to Mexico from 1930 to 1935, with 1931 as the peak year, says a 1936 dispatch from the U.S. Consulate General in Mexico City.

"It was a racial removal program," says Mae Ngai, an immigration history expert at the University of Chicago, adding people of Mexican ancestry were targeted.

However, Americans in the 1930s were "really hurting," says Otis Graham, history professor emeritus at the University of California, Santa Barbara. One in four workers were unemployed and many families hungry. Deporting illegal residents was not an "outrageous idea," Graham says. "Don't lose the context."

A pressure campaign

In the early 1900s, Mexicans poured into the USA, welcomed by U.S. factory and farm owners who needed their labor. Until entry rules tightened in 1924, they simply paid a nickel to cross the border and get visas for legal residency.

"The vast majority were here legally, because it was so easy to enter legally," says Kevin Johnson, a law professor at the University of California, Davis.

They spread out across the nation. They sharecropped in California, Texas and Louisiana, harvested sugar beets in Montana and Minnesota, laid railroad tracks in Kansas, mined coal in Utah and Oklahoma, packed meat in Chicago and assembled cars in Detroit.

By 1930, the U.S. Census counted 1.42 million people of Mexican ancestry, and 805,535 of them were U.S. born, up from 700,541 in 1920.

Change came in 1929, as the stock market and U.S. economy crashed. That year, U.S. officials tightened visa rules, reducing legal immigration from Mexico to a trickle. They also discussed what to do with those already in the USA.

"The government undertook a program that coerced people to leave," says Layla Razavi, policy analyst for the Mexican American Legal Defense and Education Fund (MALDEF). "It was really a hostile environment." She says federal officials in the Hoover administration, like local-level officials, made no distinction between people of Mexican ancestry who were in the USA legally and those who weren't.

"The document trail is shocking," says Dunn, whose staff spent two years researching the topic after he read the 1995 book Decade of Betrayal: Mexican Repatriation in the 1930s, by Francisco Balderrama and Raymond Rodriguez.

USA TODAY reviewed hundreds of pages of documents, some provided by Dunn and MALDEF and others found at the National Archives. They cite officials saying the deportations lawfully focused on illegal immigrants while the exodus of legal residents was voluntary. Yet they suggest people of Mexican ancestry faced varying forms of harassment and intimidation:

? Raids. Officials staged well-publicized raids in public places. On Feb. 26, 1931, immigration officials suddenly closed off La Placita, a square in Los Angeles, and questioned the roughly 400 people there about their legal status.

The raids "created a climate of fear and anxiety" and prompted many Mexicans to leave voluntarily, says Balderrama, professor of Chicano studies and history at California State University, Los Angeles.

In a June 1931 memo to superiors, Walter Carr, Los Angeles district director of immigration, said "thousands upon thousands of Mexican aliens" have been "literally scared out of Southern California."

Some of them came from hospitals and needed medical care en route to Mexico, immigrant inspector Harry Yeager wrote in a November 1932 letter.

The Wickersham Commission, an 11-member panel created by President Hoover, said in a May 1931 report that immigration inspectors made "checkups" of boarding houses, restaurants and pool rooms without "warrants of any kind." Labor Secretary William Doak responded that the "checkups" occurred very rarely.

? Jobs withheld. Prodded by labor unions, states and private companies barred non-citizens from some jobs, Balderrama says.

"We need their jobs for needy citizens," C.P. Visel of the Los Angeles Citizens Committee for Coordination of Unemployment Relief wrote in a 1931 telegram. In a March 1931 letter to Doak, Visel applauded U.S. officials for the "exodus of aliens deportable and otherwise who have been scared out of the community."

Emilia Castenada, 79, recalls coming home from school in 1935 in Los Angeles and hearing her father say he was being deported because "there was no work for Mexicans." She says her father, a stonemason, was a legal resident who owned property. A U.S. citizen who spoke little Spanish, she left the USA with her brother and father, who was never allowed back.

"The jobs were given to the white Americans, not the Mexicans," says Carlos DeAnda Guerra, 77, a retired furniture upholsterer in Carpinteria, Calif. He says his parents entered the USA legally in 1917 but were denied jobs. He, his mother and five U.S.-born siblings were deported in 1931, while his father, who then went into hiding, stayed to pick oranges.

"The slogan has gone out over the city (Los Angeles) and is being adhered to ? 'Employ no Mexican while a white man is unemployed,' " wrote George Clements, manager of the Los Angeles Chamber of Commerce's agriculture department, in a memo to his boss Arthur Arnoll. He said the Mexicans' legal status was not a factor: "It is a question of pigment, not a question of citizenship or right."

? Public aid threatened. County welfare offices threatened to withhold the public aid of many Mexican-Americans, Ngai says. Memos show they also offered to pay for trips to Mexico but sometimes failed to provide adequate food. An immigration inspector reported in a November 1932 memo that no provisions were made for 78 children on a train. Their only sustenance: a few ounces of milk daily.

Most of those leaving were told they could return to the USA whenever they wanted, wrote Clements in an August 1931 letter. "This is a grave mistake, because it is not the truth." He reported each was given a card that made their return impossible, because it showed they were "county charities." Even those born in the USA, he wrote, wouldn't be able to return unless they had a birth certificate or similar proof.

? Forced departures. Some of the deportees who were moved by train or car had guards to ensure they left the USA and others were sent south on a "closed-body school bus" or "Mexican gun boat," memos show.

"Those who tried to say 'no' ended up in the physical deportation category," Dunn says, adding they were taken in squad cars to train stations.

Mexican-Americans recall other pressure tactics. Arthur Herrada, 81, a retired Ford engineer in Huron, Ohio, says his father, who was a legal U.S. resident, was threatened with deportation if he didn't join the U.S. Army. His father enlisted.

'We weren't welcome'

"It was an injustice that shouldn't have happened," says Jose Lopez, 79, a retired Ford worker in Detroit. He says his father came to the USA legally but couldn't find his papers in 1931 and was deported. To keep the family together, his mother took her six U.S.-born children to Mexico, where they often survived on one meal a day. Lopez welcomes a U.S. apology.

So does Guerra, the retired upholsterer, whose voice still cracks with emotion when he talks about how deportation tore his family apart. "I'm very resentful. I don't trust the government at all," says Guerra, who later served in the U.S. military.

Piña says his entire family got typhoid fever in Mexico and his father, who had worked in Utah coal mines, died of black lung disease in 1935. "My mother was left destitute, with six of us, in a country we knew nothing about," he says. They lived in the slums of Mexico City, where his formal education ended in sixth grade. "We were misfits there. We weren't welcome."

"The Depression was very bad here. You can imagine how hard it was in Mexico," says Piña, who proudly notes the advanced college degrees of each of his four U.S.-raised sons. "You can't put 16 years of pure hell out of your mind."

Posted 4/4/2006 5:11 PM
Updated 4/5/2006 6:57 AM

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Monday, April 03, 2006

Squonk

The Hunter and the Squonk

Like father like son
Not flesh nor fish nor bone
A red rag hangs from an open mouth.
Alive at both ends but a little dead in the middle,
A-tumbling and a-bumbling he will go.
All the King's horses and all the King's men
Could never put a smile on that face.

He's a sly one, he's a shy one
Wouldn't you be too.
Scared to be left all on his own.
Hasn't a, hasn't a friend to play with, the Ugly Duckling
The pressure on, the bubble will burst before our eyes.
All the while in perfect time
His tears are falling on the ground
BUT IF YOU DON'T STAND UP YOU DON'T STAND A CHANCE.

Go a little faster now, you might get there in time.

Mirror mirror on the wall,
His heart was broken long before he ever came to you.
Stop your tears from falling,
The trail they leave is very clear for all to see at night
all to see at night.

A Trick of the Tail

In season, out of season
What's the difference when you don't know the reason.
In one hand bread, the other a stone.
The Hunter enters the forest.
All are not huntsmen who can blow the huntsman's horn
By the look of this one you've not got much to fear.

Here I am, I'm very fierce and frightening
Come to match my skill to yours.
Now listen here, listen to me, don't you run away now
I am a friend, I'd really like to play with you.
Making noises my little furry friend would make
I'll trick him, then I'll kick him into my sack.
You better watch out... You better watch out.

I've got you, I've got you, you'll never get away.

Walking home that night
The sack across my back, the sound of sobbing on my shoulder.
When suddenly it stopped,
I opened up the sack, all that I had
A pool of bubbles and tears - JUST A POOL OF TEARS.

All in all you are a very dying race
Placing trust upon a cruel world.
You never had the things you thought you should have had
And you'll not get them now,
And all the while in perfect time
Your tears are falling on the ground.

The Squonk is of a very retiring disposition and due to its ugliness, weeps constantly. It is easy prey for hunters who simply follow a tear-stained trail. When cornered it will dissolve itself into tears.

True or False?

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Sunday, April 02, 2006

Freedom, Liberty, Right

T058703A (10K)

On October 28th the Statue of Liberty will be 120 years old. The country will be roughly 230. The statues real name is Liberty Enlightening the World. In the big picture Liberty is supposed to be a woman escaping the chains of tyranny, which lie at her feet. I haven't ever seen a pic of the chains, and I visited the statue twice in my life and can't recall ever seeing them, but Encarta and the official web site claim they're there and that's enough for me.

The torch in her right hand is now beyond legendary, but in case you're not in to legdends its supposed to be the light of liberty. The popular myth says that the book in her right hand is inscribed with the words "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses" Its a myth. What the tablet says is July 4, 1776” (in Roman numerals). The famous quote is part of a larger poem by Emma Lazarus:

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name,
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand8363117 (17K)
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

As much as I feel fascism lite is the flavor of the day in the United States the fact is that there are illegal immigrants marching in the streets to say they're not criminals and don't intend to leave. To me it doesn't seem like they have a leg to stand on, let alone march. Is there a difference between saying you have a right to enter an work in a country regardless of the laws and regulations of that country the same as saying you have a right to free speech, due process or privacy? Do we have a fascist government? I am still alive and not in prison. Are the Judges concerns well founded?

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Monday, March 27, 2006

Asinine

I've tried to think of it in several different ways, but in the end the only words I can think of are "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Did you post that comment and then go off and chortle about what a bitch you are. Are your friends proud of you and pat you on the back? Have you emailed people who've never seen my blog before to show them how asinine and sophomoric your humor can be. I want to be sure that the agility of your wit won't be over looked, so I'm reposting your comments.

Van der Graan Generator

Man-Erg

The killer lives inside me: yes, I can feel him move.
Sometimes he's lightly sleeping
in the quiet of his room,
but then his eyes will rise and stare through mine;
he'll speak my words and slice my mind inside.
Yes the killer lives.
Angels live inside me: I can feel them smile...
Their presence strokes
and soothes the tempest in my mind
and their love can heal the wounds
that I have wrought.
They watch me as I go to fall
- well, I know I shall be caught,
while the angels live.

How can I be free?
How can I get help?
Am I really me?
Am I someone else?

But stalking in my cloisters hang the acolytes
of gloom
and Death's Head throws his cloak into
the corner of my room
and I am doomed...
But laughing in my courtyard play the pranksters
of my youth
and solemn, waiting Old Man
in the gables of the roof:
he tells me truth...

And I too, live inside me and very often
don't know who I am:
I know I'm not a hero, but
I hope that I'll not die.
I'm just a man, and killers, angels,
are all me:
Dictator, saviour, refugee in war and peace
as long as Man lives...

I'm just a man, and killers, angels,
are all me:
Dictator, saviour, refugee

Saturday, March 25, 2006 2:52:56 AM

Hopefully, you won't leave it at this, because this has always been a kind of fantasy of mine. I'd like to hear your reasoning behind your post. How have you come to the conclusion that its all in my head? Before you post your reply, and I don't think you will, I'll share something with you. You, and people like you are the only proof that any of the words in your second post are true. If the world were only made up of people like you then it would be easy to believe that life is the hallow, sickening agony that your song describes. So you've been able to scrape enough wit to come to that conclusion and now you should take the second step. The more people like you stop being so hopelessly shallow and full of themselves the less chaotic and desperate life will seem for everyone involved. Yes, clever girl, life seems illusory and bogus. It doesn't have to be that way, and we don't have to wait another generation for things to change. They can change right now. You start. Life isn't a work of art that we stand back and admire, or search for meaning. Life is an action like walking to the store. The meaning of life comes from what you do while you're walking. I know it sounds like another of my desperate delusions, but its far from an original thought, although one that you don't seem to have come across yet. You're welcome.

I look forward to hearing from you again.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Stupid Arrogance

portrat of Fanny Watts by J.S. Sargent 1877If you're new here and even if your not I need to make one thing clear; I have never told anyone anywhere in any manner, or form that I have schizophrenia or any other mental illness. Anyone who says anything otherwise is lying.

You know the problem with my stalkers? They're always on the same trip. No matter what happens its all my fault. They drug the food, and I can tell so I don't eat it. Then I'm as ass for wasting food. They drug the butter and cooking oil, and spices, and I'm an ass for not cooking for myself. I'm an ass for not believing their lies. I'm weak for needing contact with other people. I'm weak because their insults make me angry. I'm insecure because their lies make me nervous. I'm stupid because I can't tell they care in spite of the lies and obvious pain and profound physical discomfort I feel on a daily basis. To them any objection I make to the death threats or insults is just pure arrogance, and they never ever stop laughing. They always want to say everything just short of "I know everything you do on your computer, and have a camera in your room," I don't really have to guess about a lot of things because they're really not very subtle. Its clear that they think I'm a habitual murderer, and rapist. What I don't get is how I can be accused and punished for a crime, without a trial, or even being told about it. Its clear that they think I'm schizophrenic. What I don't get is how you can label someone as a schizophrenic and treat them against their will, without ever telling them about it.

portrat of Mrs. Henry White by J.S. Sargent 1883
Who are these people? What could have possibly happened in their clearly limited, sheltered little lives to lead them to expect that from me? And why are they so amused with the fact that I clearly expect them to stop. Not only do I expect them to stop, but I expect a full explanation, and I'm never going to settle for anything less. So you can exploit my isolation for all its worth, but I'm telling you now, no matter what the consequences this isn't going to rest until I know the crimes I'm accused of and am completely exonerated, and someone is held accountable for the years of my life wasted in this, and the torture I've endured.

So yeah, I have totally fallen for this whole "I love you, Al" game. Its what I need to hear and there are some really good liars out there. Thank god your fucking uncontrollable, ignorant pig laughter always tips me off. You think I'm not beating your fat ass because I'm scared of you, but there are other reasons. One of them is that my stalkers call you their cum faced whore behind your back, so I think they're fooling you a lot more than they're fooling me. Its possible that you actually like being their cum faced whore, in which case that's just another reason not to beat your fat ass. My reasons for not beating your fat ass are a lot better than your reasons for drugging me and playing the inside man to this bullshit, but I know that you can't tell the difference, and that's another good reason. I have a lot, but I am not afraid of you. One of us is definitely stupid and arrogant, but I don't think its me. You've probably never even seen this blog. I bet you count on them to tell you everything. Smart.

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Friday, March 17, 2006

Chocolate Genius II

Chocolate Genius

Black Music

Hangover Nine


I am forgetting about you at least twice a day
I am falling face down into a bloody stoop
And I?m seeing ghost in every dead bottle
And I?m wasting time like Don Knots
I am emptier than yesterdays raincoats
I am crushing grapes, and midwives, and rent-a-cars
I am burning Cubans with the spooky Presidents
And I am the shit that you call understanding

And yes I?ll have another one
I?ll have another one
Yes, I?ll have another one
I?ll have another one
Yes, I?ll have another one
I?ll have another one
You want some more?

And I have been saved if you don?t count last night.
And I am better than you will ever be so get used to it
And I?m hanging up now, because you bore me

And yes, I?ll have another one
I?ll have another one
Yes, I?ll have another one
Hell yes, another one
Yes, I?ll have another one
I?ll have another one
You want some more?

Oh my God

And where are my keys?
And where are my keys?
And where are my keys?
And where are my keys?
And where are my keys?
Has anybody seen my keys?

Oh my God
I?ll never do this again
You want some more?


The other day I posted a wallpaper form the Chocolate Genius Inc. website. If you don't know what Chocolate Genius is, you should. Last night somone asked me about music and I started to Google some Chocolate Genius lyrics for them, only to find that there are none on the internet. That seems really odd for the internet. It might be because Chocolate Genius doesn't want his song lyrics online. If that's the reason he's gonna be contacting me soon. I'll probably be posting more. If you already know about Chocolate Genius, your welcome in advance.

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Wednesday, March 15, 2006


http://www.chocolategeniusinc.com/ Posted by Picasa

Monday, March 13, 2006

Here's what the judge thinks. Thats what we pay them for, to judge.

Former top judge says US risks edging near to dictatorship

· Sandra Day O'Connor warns of rightwing attacks
· Lawyers 'must speak up' to protect judiciary

Julian Borger in Washington
Monday March 13, 2006

Guardian

Sandra Day O'Connor, a Republican-appointed judge who retired last month after 24 years on the supreme court, has said the US is in danger of edging towards dictatorship if the party's rightwingers continue to attack the judiciary.

In a strongly worded speech at Georgetown University, reported by National Public Radio and the Chicago Daily Law Bulletin, Ms O'Connor took aim at Republican leaders whose repeated denunciations of the courts for alleged liberal bias could, she said, be contributing to a climate of violence against judges.

Ms O'Connor, nominated by Ronald Reagan as the first woman supreme court justice, declared: "We must be ever-vigilant against those who would strong-arm the judiciary."

She pointed to autocracies in the developing world and former Communist countries as lessons on where interference with the judiciary might lead. "It takes a lot of degeneration before a country falls into dictatorship, but we should avoid these ends by avoiding these beginnings."

In her address to an audience of corporate lawyers on Thursday, Ms O'Connor singled out a warning to the judiciary issued last year by Tom DeLay, the former Republican leader in the House of Representatives, over a court ruling in a controversial "right to die" case.

After the decision last March that ordered a brain-dead woman in Florida, Terri Schiavo, removed from life support, Mr DeLay said: "The time will come for the men responsible for this to answer for their behaviour."

Mr DeLay later called for the impeachment of judges involved in the Schiavo case, and called for more scrutiny of "an arrogant, out-of-control, unaccountable judiciary that thumbed their nose at Congress and the president".

Such threats, Ms O'Connor said, "pose a direct threat to our constitutional freedom", and she told the lawyers in her audience: "I want you to tune your ears to these attacks ... You have an obligation to speak up.

"Statutes and constitutions do not protect judicial independence - people do," the retired supreme court justice said.

She noted death threats against judges were on the rise and added that the situation was not helped by a senior senator's suggestion that there might be a connection between the violence against judges and the decisions they make.

The senator she was referring to was John Cornyn, a Bush loyalist from Texas, who made his remarks last April, soon after a judge was shot dead in an Atlanta courtroom and the family of a federal judge was murdered in Illinois [and here].

Senator Cornyn said: "I don't know if there is a cause and effect connection, but we have seen some recent episodes of courthouse violence in this country ... And I wonder whether there may be some connection between the perception in some quarters, on some occasions, where judges are making political decisions yet are unaccountable to the public, that it builds up and builds up to the point where some people engage in violence."

Although appointed by a Republican, Ms O'Connor voted with the supreme court's liberals on some divisive issues, including abortion, making her a frequent target for criticism from the right. After announcing that she intended to retire last year at the age of 75, she was replaced in February this year by Samuel Alito, who is generally regarded as being more consistently conservative.

In her speech, Ms O'Connor said that if the courts did not occasionally make politicians mad they would not be doing their jobs, and their effectiveness "is premised on the notion that we won't be subject to retaliation for our judicial acts".

Guardian Unlimited © Guardian Newspapers Limited 2006

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Saturday, March 11, 2006

Do We Have a Fascist Government?

14 Characteristics that Define Fascism

  1. Powerful and Continuing Nationalism
  2. Disdain for the Recognition of Human Rights
  3. Identification of Enemies/Scapegoats as a Unifying Cause
  4. Supremacy of the Military
  5. Rampant Sexism
  6. Controlled Mass Media
  7. Obsession with National Security
  8. Religion and Government are Intertwined
  9. Corporate Power is Protected
  10. Labor Power is Suppressed
  11. Disdain for Intellectuals and the Arts
  12. Obsession with Crime and Punishment
  13. Rampant Cronyism and Corruption
  14. Fraudulent Elections
by Dr. Lawrence Britt

What am I doing? I'm reading other peoples blogs and blogging things I find interesting.. For those of you who know I've been reading your blog, I usually comment when I have something to say. Me, the day I commented on your blog was the first time I ever saw it. Sorry, I'm not your lurker. I have been lurking since then though, so that's something :).

I haven't been blogging much because I don't have much more to say. As I've told several people who've instant messaged me, after you've used so many words to talk about a subject you start to wonder what's the point. The general impression seems to be that its possible that I'm mistaken, and I might only have food poisoning. There is no comment about the stalkers online and off, so I have to assume that people think I'm delusional. The only thing writing about it has accomplished is giving my stalkers a good laugh and some pointers on how to tell better lies. Offline it has been suggested that perhaps I have diabetes, and very directly indirectly implied that I have a tendancey toward exaggeration. So here I am writing about why I'm not writing about it.

Ok the subject is Fascism. This is a great list. Fascism always looks the same. What do you think?

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Monday, March 06, 2006

More...

An atheist professor of philosophy speaks to his class on the problem science has with God, The Almighty.He asks one of his new students to stand and?..

Prof: So you believe in God?
Student: Absolutely, sir.

Prof: Is God good?
Student: Sure.

Prof: Is God all-powerful?
Student: Yes.

Prof: My brother died of cancer even though he prayed to God to heal him. Most of us would attempt to help others who are ill. But God didn't. How is this God good then? Hmm?
Student is silent.

Prof: You can?t answer, can you? Let?s start again, young fella. Is God good?
Student: Yes.

Prof: Is Satan good?
Student
: No.

Prof: Where does Satan come from?
Student
: From?God?

Prof: That?s right. Tell me son, is there evil in this world?
Student
: Yes.

Prof: Evil is everywhere, isn't it? And God did make everything. Correct?
Student
: Yes.

Prof: So who created evil?
Student does not answer.

Prof: Is there sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness? All these terrible things exist in the world, don?t they?
Student: Yes, sir.

Prof: So, who created them?
Student has no answer.

Prof: Science says you have 5 senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Tell me, son?Have you ever seen God?
Student: No, sir.

Prof: Tell us if you have ever heard your God?
Student: No, sir.

Prof: Have you ever felt your God, tasted your God, and smelled your God? Have you ever had any sensory perception of God for that matter?
Student: No, sir. I?m afraid I haven?t.

Prof: Yet you still believe in Him?
Student: Yes.

Prof: According to empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your GOD doesn't exist. What do you say to that, son?
Student: Nothing. I only have my faith.

Prof: Yes. Faith. And that is the problem science has.
Student: Professor, is there such a thing as heat?
Prof: Yes.

Student: And is there such a thing as cold?
Prof: Yes.
Student: No sir. There isn't.
The lecture theater becomes very quiet with this turn of events.
Student: Sir, you can have lots of heat, even more heat, superheat, mega heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat. But we don?t have anything called cold. We can hit 458 degrees below zero, which is no heat, but we can?t go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold. Cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it.
There is pin-drop silence in the lecture theater.

Student: What about darkness, Professor? Is there such a thing as darkness?
Prof: Yes. What is night if there isn't darkness?

Student: You?re wrong again, sir. Darkness is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light?. But if you have no light constantly, you have nothing and its called darkness, isn't it? In reality, darkness isn't. If it were, you would be able to make darkness darker, wouldn't you?
Prof: So what is the point you are making, young man?

Student: Sir, my point is your philosophical premise is flawed.
Prof: Flawed? Can you explain how?

Student: Sir, you are working on the premise of duality. You argue there is life and then there is death, a good God and a bad God. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, science can?t even explain a thought.It uses electricity and magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life: just the absence of it. Now tell me, Professor. Do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?
Prof: If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, yes, of course, I do.

Student: Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?
The Professor shakes his head with a smile, beginning to realize where the argument is going.

Student: Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an on-going endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you not a scientist but a preacher?
The class is in uproar.

Student: Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the Professor?s brain?
The class! breaks out into laughter.

Student: Is there anyone here who has ever heard the Professor?s brain, felt it, touched or smelled it?No one appears to have done so. So, according to the established rules of empirical, stable, demonstrable protocol, science says that you have no brain, sir. With all due respect, sir, how do we then trust your lectures, sir?
The room is silent. The professor stares at the student, his face unfathomable.

Prof: I guess you?ll have to take them on faith, son.
Student
: That is it, sir.. The link between man & god is FAITH. That is all that keeps things moving & alive.

Now guess who the student is ?

Document made with Nvu

More...

True Friendship*

Are you tired of all those sissy-ass "friendship" poems that always sound good, but never actually come close to reality? Well, here is a series of promises that really speaks to true friendship:

  1. When you are sad - I will help you get drunk and plot revenge against the sorry bastard who made you sad.
  2. When you are blue - I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.
  3. When you smile - I will know you finally got laid
  4. When you are scared - I will rag on you about it every chance I get.
  5. When you are worried - I will tell you horrible stories about how much worse it could be and to quit whining.
  6. When you are confused - I will use little words.
  7. When you are sick - Stay the hell away from me until you are well again. I don't want whatever you have.
  8. When you fall - I will point and laugh at your clumsy ass.

This is my oath...I pledge it till the end. "Why?" you may ask, because you are my friend.

*Stolen from a 360 blog. When I was a kid all of these things used to be absurd jokes. Now they're so funny because they're so true.

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None of These Jokes is Funny

YOU GOTTA LOVE CHICAGO WOMEN!!*

A woman from Chicago and another from the East coast were seated side-by-side on an airplane. The woman from Chicago, being friendly and all, said:

"So, where are you from?"

The East coast woman said, "From a place where they know better than to use a preposition at the end of a sentence."

The woman from Chicago sat quietly for a few moments and then replied: "So, where are you from, bitch?"

More...

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Addition and Deduction

Maybe I changed the settings on my blog. I decided to do some reading and found the place to put the "Edit HTML" option back, and low and behold it worked. Good thing because I'm looking for things that work today. Its a good thing I didn't let on how frustrated I was getting.

I've been surfing blogs in search of some fresh reading matter. Things on this side of the monitor are getting more and more bizarre, so I need more distraction, and I lost some good ones this week. I found a few things of interest. You'll have to remember I'm fairly new to the blog world as a reader and writer. It takes a lot of time to find things worth reading in blogs. I admit it, I'm picky, but its not really in a snobbish sort of way. Just like the first rule of Journalism, if you don't grab my attention right away I'm probably not going to go rooting around through your blog looking for something interesting.

I posted a couple of weeks ago about Bored Housewife I like reading her blog. She actually got me started on the search for blogs that I might like to visit more than once. She has a feature called "Braless Tuesdays" which is kind of funny and innocent, but definitely Braless so its not false advertising at all. I came across referer.org on her site. I might have heard of it before, but I can't recall, but today I'm adding their service to the blog. If you don't know what it is feel free to click the link, it won't take you anywhere that can hurt your computer or tell either of us anything about each other that we don't already know. I used to work with a woman who was really into the web, and web design. She used to say that adding counters and services like referer.org to a site or blog like mine only made it look more pathetic. She was beautiful, talented, intelligent, and as shallow as a dime. Catherine, I'm adding this for you *wink.

I guess I'm also updating the template today. I've mentioned a lot of blogs that I've never added to my links list. I'm particularly concerned about A few drops of rain... . A great poet, and writer, but his last few poems seemed to be saying he was terribly depressed and would commit suicide on February 28th. Since his profile says he lives in India, I'm not sure what to do about that, but mentioning it here might help.

If you're into books Bibliolitry is a very charming blog by a school teacher. Its basically book reviews. She's also a member of the same webring my Geocities is on, which was supposed to bring lots of traffic to my web pages but has failed to do so. Another great reason to link to her.

Green Chameleon: I don't know that I "believe in" those test, but I do find that some are a lot more accurate than others, kind of like horoscopes. I prefer Blogger over Yahoo too.

Document made with Nvu

Saturday, March 04, 2006

Testing with a Love Test

OK lets try something.

Your Five Variable Love Profile

Propensity for Monogamy:

Your propensity for monogamy is medium.
In general, you prefer to have only one love interest.
But it's hard for you to stay devoted for too long!
There's too much eye candy to keep you from wandering.

Experience Level:

Your experience level is high.
You've loved, lost, and loved again.
You have had a wide range of love experiences.
And when the real thing comes along, you know it!

Dominance:

Your dominance is medium.
You tend to be the one with more power.
You aren't a total control freak in relationships..
But of course you don't mind getting you way!

Cynicism:

Your cynicism is low.
You are an eternal optimist when it comes to love and romance.
No matter how many times you've been hurt - you're never bitter.
You believe in one true love, your perfect soulmate.
And if you haven't found true love yet, you know you will soon.

Independence:

Your independence is low.
This doesn't mean you're dependent in relationships..
It does mean that you don't have any problem sharing your life.
In your opinion, the best part of being in love is being together.


Hmmmmmm it looks like Blogger has just changed their format. You can post HTML in your blogs if you can figure out how. This is only my second try so I still have to pretend that I'm not really frustrated and angry. I hate that.

I know its corny, but think of the alternative ;) Posted by Picasa

Friday, March 03, 2006

Well.....

Blogger seems to have removed the ability to insert HTML into your post.

That's pretty much a drag. I'll probably find another blog spot now. I hope someone from Blogger reads this.

That's gonna leave a mark

Crazy Love, Vol. II Lyrics

Fat Charlie the Archangel
Sloped into the room
He said I have no opinion about this
And I have no opinion about that
Sad as a lonely little wrinkled balloon
He said well I don't claim to be happy about this, boys
And I don't seem to be happy about that
I don't want no part of this crazy love
I don't want no part of your love
I don't want no part of this crazy love
I don't want no part of your love
I don't want no part of this crazy love
I don't want no part of your love
I don't want no part of this crazy love
I don't want no part of this crazy love

She says she knows about jokes
This time the joke is on me
Well, I have no opinion about that
And I have no opinion about me

Somebody could walk into this room
And say your life is on fire
It's all over the evening news
All about the fire in your life
On the evening news

I don't want no part of this crazy love
I don't want no part of your love
I don't want no part of this crazy love
I don't want no part of your love

Fat Charlie the Archangel
Files for divorce
He says well this will eat up a year of my life
And then there's all that weight to be lost
She says the joke is on me
I say the joke is on her
I said I have no opinion about that
Well, we'll just have to wait and confer

I don't want no part of this crazy love
I don't want no part of your love
I don't want no part of this crazy love
I don't want no part of your love
I don't want no part of this crazy love
I don't want no part of your love
I don't want no part of this crazy love
I don't want no part of this crazy love

Sunday, February 26, 2006

From: Las Vegas and the Mob

Things aren't always what they seem.

THE ROLL

By Dennis N. Griffin

It was 5:30 on a Tuesday morning. I was in a small casino a block off the Las Vegas Strip, where my wife worked as a waitress. I had another hour to wait before her shift ended and we could go home.

I decided to kill some time at the craps table. The place had a quarter minimum bet; so you could play quite a while on a ten-dollar buy in. I considered myself to be very disciplined at the tables, so I knew I?d never drop any serious money while just passing time. And, with a little luck, I might even be able to make a couple of bucks profit.

There was only one other player at the table. I shrewdly eyed his bet and the status of his chip rack as I walked up to the table. He had fifty cents on the pass line, with no odds behind it. The puck showed he was trying to make a point of five. I guessed his chip rack contained three or four dollars of quarters and a couple of ones. Maybe he was just killing time, too.



I walked to the opposite end of the table and bought ten dollars in chips, mostly quarters. As my chips were being counted out, I noticed that only the three dealers manned the table. The boxman ? the fourth member and boss of the crew ? was absent. The lack of action probably didn?t require his presence.

For the next ten minutes my fellow shooter and I took turns passing the dice back and forth. We were both betting ?pass? and risking a half dollar each. He?d throw three or four numbers with no repeats, and then seven out. I?d do the same. The cubes were ice cold.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a figure approaching the table. I turned my head for a direct look. What I saw was not a pleasant sight. To say the newcomer was disheveled would be a gross understatement. I figured him to be in his late sixties, but he could have been much older, or much younger, for that matter. There was nothing remarkable about his height or build, but his appearance is indelibly etched in my mind. From his head to his feet he looked dirty. The salt and pepper hair was long and uncombed. He hadn?t used a razor in quite some time. His pullover shirt may have been white once, now it was gray and stained ? with what I dared not guess. His blue jeans were tattered, and looked as though they could stand up by themselves. I just knew he?d carry an unpleasant odor.

His shoulders were stooped, as though he carried the weight of the world on them. Here is a man who life has beaten into submission, I thought smugly. Here is a loser.

To my horror, this hideous apparition headed straight toward me. As he neared, I moved further around the end of the table until I was nudging the dealer. I could go no further. He stopped next to me, so close we were almost touching. My hunch had been right: he stunk. I briefly thought about moving to another position, and then discarded the idea. Who was he to make me move? To hell with him. I stubbornly decided to stand my ground, foul aroma and all.

My colleague at the other end of the table had just sevened out. The stickman passed the dice bowl in my direction. ?Shoot?? he asked as he passed the bowl in front of the loser. The old man nodded. He reached in his pants pocket, pulled out two crumpled up dollar bills and laid them on the felt in front of him. ?Ones,? he said. Two chips immediately replaced his bills. He put one of them on the pass line.

As his claw-like hand was selecting a pair of dice from the bowl, I put eight of my quarter chips on the ?don?t?. If this clown is going to blow his last two dollars, I might as well bet against him and make a dollar or two, I figured.

His first roll was a twelve. ?Craps dice, line away,? the dealer said. I smiled to myself as the dealer took the old man?s chip. The boxcars had been a ?push? for me. My bet was safe. I left the chips where they were.

His next three tosses were an eleven, sandwiched by a pair of sevens. He had let his bet ride, and now had eight dollars. I had doubled up after each loss and was down fourteen.

The smelly one moved five chips from the table to his rack. I reached for my back pocket and my third buy in. Only this time I wasn?t going to fool around with a lousy sawbuck. ?Give me forty ones,? I said to the dealer as my pair of twenties hit the table.

Over the next forty minutes I watched this man make fifteen passes and throw a whole bunch of numbers. As his bankroll increased, it became obvious he had a money management system. He kept four bets working, his pass line and three ?comes?. He took full odds on each. He?d ?press? a bet on occasion, but made sure to take down sufficient profits.

Several minutes into the roll a small crowd formed around the table to watch the action. The boxman returned. Perched on the edge of his chair, he watched the shooter like a hawk. Later, the pit boss also made an appearance. But by that time I was just a spectator, my chip rack and wallet long since empty.

I heard the boxman explain the streak to his boss. ?Considering the roll this guy is on, we haven?t been hurt too bad. The other guy is only betting half-dollars, and he (nodding toward me) was a non-believer. He offset some of the loss.?

After he finally sevened out, the old man spoke the only words he?d uttered since he ordered his chips. ?Color me up,? he said, as he shoved his considerable pile of winnings toward the dealer.

As I was watching my nemesis shuffle off to the cashier?s cage with several hundred dollars in chips, my wife grabbed my arm. ?Hi,? she said. ?What have you been up to??

?I guess you could say I?ve been in school.? I kept the emotion out of my voice, even though I was still smarting from the beating I?d taken.

?And what did you learn?? she asked, puzzled.

After a few seconds of thought, I answered her. ?A few things that wouldn?t interest you, like the proper way to bet a hot hand. But there are two things I hope I won?t forget. Never bet on emotion, and looks don?t make a loser.?





http://www.authorsden.com/dennisngriffin

Monday, February 20, 2006

If its not one thing....

The problem actually isn't solved as much as its been removed. I'm giving up on my blog template idea for the time being. Maybe what I wanted to do isn't actually possible.I guess I should say thinks. I really appreciate you pointing that out to me, Cinas. What I don't understand is why I have to accept your friendship along with a line of bull that's only slightly more believable than Santa Clause. Its not just that you're lies are transparent its the fact that you have to type *wink while you're lying, and still insist that you're not. And then top it all off by saying its not a bad look while you're telling me about the display problem with my blog, like you were eating a kids mud pie. And the fact that its so outrageously insulting and moronic and I have to explain it like we were all born yesterday and are just establishing the basic laws of respect. Maybe there is something wrong with me. I don't know you. Maybe you treat people like that all the time and they never object. Who knows. Anything is possible.

Document made with Nvu

The Bad Evil IE Look


OK I admit its my fault. I've been saying that there's a problem for a while now, but I didn't check other browsers to see how bad it was. Deep down I actually don't care. Internet Explorere sucks as a browser, and personally I never use it, but most people who visit my blogs do. They should stop. Just do yourself a favor right now.

What you are looking at is the bottom of my blog page. My right side bar has been pushed there by the right margin of the blog content. It look odd in Firefox, but in IE it looks bad. Cinas was kind enough to share this information with me. Its not clear how she discovered the problem because she doesn't actually read my blog. We had a long chat about it. She's scared of my counter. She does want me to think she visits my blog and I'm not sure why that is either. Now she'll message me and be terribly offended that I would say such a thing and we'll debate back and forth about what was actually said in our chat, but the long and short of what she said *wink was that she thought I was trying to track her using my counter *wink and she doesn't read my blog, but wants me to think she cares. The winks are hers the interpretation is mine.

How's it look to you?


Someone just told me my profile pic is moving around the blog. This is my blog in Firefox

HermesNews.Net

OK it happened again. Its probably some system thing with Blogger, although I can't imagine why. Suppose I wanted to post about HTML and wanted to share some mark up?

I recently discovered that this blog is being traded in a stock market game. The site is called BlogShares. My blog is worth $19,202.54 in Blogshares money. That means its almost worthless. There's a reason why and it makes sense if you look a their site. Since my discovery I've joined the site and added one of their buttons to the bottom of the page. Now I just have to figure out how to play.

Their system is fairly well thought out and allows for Press Releases if you can afford it and want to promote your blog. I'm sure it adds to the game play but its also a good way to learn what is happening in the world of blogs. Below is a recent press release that I wanted to make note of for myself.

[Press Release] HermesNews.Net

On behalf of HermesNews.Net:

Hermes News is Back!

Check us out today at http://www.hermesnews.net!

We're looking for contributing writers as well! If your interested email us at hermesnews at goldstein media DoT CoM.

-Seth
Editor

Document made with Nvu

Another Problem Solved and Another Mystery.....

I think I've solved the border issue. We'll see with this post.

I still want to use Nvu to blog. The reason is that I get to see exactly what my post will look like before I post it, but you have to set your template up correctly for that to work, which I think I have finally done.

I know I said I wasn't going to write about it for a while, but I just noticed that my last post about it has been edited. The original post looked like this:

I haven't laughed so hard since my father died.

I added the tags to make it clear that I was being sarcastic, you never know what people will think, but for some reason they were removed. After I made the post I checked it several times, because I'm like that, and I like to look at my pics. I created the post in Nvu so there's no way that Blogger could have mistaken it as HTML. Nvu converts all that because its a WYSIWYG editor. Oh well, another thing I can't do anything about.

Document made with Nvu

Nvu works

I woke up this morning with the revelation that I've been thinking of Nvu in the wrong way. Its not supposed to do all the things that I want it to do. Its not supposed to replace my other web authoring tools. It was designed for people who don't know anything about HTML and want to create web pages, but can't afford a swanky program. That's what its for and that's what it does. I'm frustrated because I want it to do something else.

One problem solved today.

Document made with Nvu

Fog of Life

Apparently, there are Bald Eagles living along the Fox River. If you're not from Chicago the Fox River is near here, and if you are from Chicago I bet you thought you'd have to drive a long way to see a Bald Eagle in the wild. OK you probably just walk down to the Lincoln Park Zoo. Hey, maybe these Eagles escaped from there.

This guy has a job, a wife, and kids and he feels compelled to drive around and take pictures of things.

Fog of Life

Document made with Nvu

A few drops of rain ...

Maybe its not just me. Maybe there are a lot of unread blogs out there. This guy seems really disturbed about something. I wonder where his stalkers are.

A few drops of rain ...

Best Funny Pics: Does this Thong Make my Ass Look Big

I'm burnt out writing about "it". I'm surfing blogs. This is what the rest of the world is doing.

Best Funny Pics: Does this Thong Make my Ass Look Big

Friday, February 17, 2006

Illusion, Delusion and Changing Times

Rita HayworthWith every post I'm thinking that I may have fixed my template problem. I was getting frustrated with Nvu, thinking that using it to blog wasn't using it the way that it was meant to be used. Then I went to check out the blog of the person who designed the program and it turns out lots of people use Nvu to blog. Who knew? I guess I'll just keep plugging away. Learning to use it is a distraction, and entertaining. I also went looking for guides to features that I haven't been able to figure out yet, only to discover that the tutorial has never actually been finished. Of course, I haven't read every single word of the help files and tutorial yet, but if the information is there its not clearly labeled. I working on my own fix for that. If anyone reading has any ideas or insight into Nvu let me know. Maybe Green Chameleon knows something?

I'm debating on whether I'm interested enough in HTML to start a blog dedicated specifically for it. I've thought about a web page also, but every time I try to start one it ends up being just a long page of ramblings and saved notes, which is what I don't want. I'm really excited about Nvu and there doesn't seem to be much out there about it or how to use it.

Rita HayworthDespite my blogs subject matter there are a few people who come back regularly. The pics are for you and for me. The woman is Rita Hayworth. I've been enjoying the previous pics so much that I thought I'd add more. As always I found the images online. They're really too small to do justice to such beauty, so I also linked them to larger versions stored at Geocities. Enjoy.

The response to my last post was almost instant. As I've said before my stalkers know what I'm writing almost as soon as I write it. First chat went silent, with chatters giving the NeoNazi 88 (Heil Hitler, for those of you who aren't in the know) sign before they stopped chatting int he main room. Second it took my post well over 24 hrs. to show up in my 360° feeds. I'm starting to wonder if anyone other than them can see my blog at all. The next day my stalkers started responding. I guess they need some time to commiserate. My stalkers always take the attitude of being somehow wiser than me. Their general attitude is that they are teaching someone who is incapable of coping with the world, how to do it, and they intend to teach the hard way. One asked me "If you were hanging onto a branch by your teeth over a pack of hungry wolves would you let go to growl at them?" Clearly a response to my assertion that I'm just not smart enough to keep silent about what's happening in my life. It seems like an odd comment though because it seems like the hungry wolves are asking if I'm smart enough not to be eaten by them. It reminds me of the type of ego head trip the Nazis were on. They had convinced themselves that if the Jews had been smarter they would have somehow evaded the Final Solution. The logic is so circular and obviously inept its mind boggling that anyone over the age of 18 could maintain it for longer than a season without realizing their own foolishness. Supposedly, if I were smart i wouldn't call them fools; if I were smart I wouldn't let them make me angry. Who wants to be that smart? I wonder if women or men who comply with their rapist demands, and submit to the rape and never contact the police, look in the mirror every day while their brushing their hair and say, "I am so smart."

Rita HayworthAlong with this typical display of wit and logic came the regular signs of contempt. They know where I live and in fact live near me. They know who I live with and think they are saintly for "trying to help" me. Obviously, my offline friends know and protect my online stalkers. Don't even ask me who that works for them, because I really don't know. Black people who think NeoNazis are harmless and funny are the lowest form of life in my opinion. They'll keep us all laughing right into the showers while the orchestra plays that wonderful music. Why would they play this wonderful music if they were going to kill us? My offline friends made it clear that they think the death threats are a joke, as well as the police officer who told me that they weren't illegal, and the cars that play chicken with me while I walk to the store. All just a few people having a laugh. I haven't laughed so hard since my father died. As usual, there's more, but I'm tired of writing about it. Hopefully, one day I'll be free and this will all be material for a really good book.

One of my stalkers implied that I was being treated. He/she suggested that I am going though therapy, that I am a person who can't adapt to a changing paradigm, and suggested that I might be undergoing a chemical lobotomy. Do I seem like a person who needs to be medicated against his will, and such a sever case that the only solution is a chemical lobotomy? Unfortunately, my offline friends are completely mistaken. My stalkers have every intention of killing me. I've contacted the police and the FBI numerous times. There's nothing I can do.

I was looking for other distractions today and came across this blog. Very exciting writing and extremely cute (and married) chick. Her comments section is more like a Guestbook. I left a comment and when I started to leave my URL I found myself thinking about what she or anyone would find when they visit here. There's a lot about my blog and life that don't say "visit and join in". Like her, I wish that I had other things to write about. Unlike her I do have other things to write about except this thing consumes me.


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Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Intelligent Life

What a weekend. My blog template isn't working out. It looks fine on this blog and on Dreams of Color, but in Interpretation it eats the little border between the blog and the side bar. My stalkers have been very active.

You might notice that in this blog I spent a lot of time writing directly to my stalkers, the people in my offline life. That's because I can tell that they read it. It has never done any good. No matter what I write it only makes them angry and for some reason makes them think that if the refine their methods things will get better. Well, maybe I should rephrase that. They don't want things to get better. The fact is that they don't care how I feel or what happens to me. They just don't want me to be able to defend myself against them. I'll start writing about a drugs in the food and they change the drugs. The kitchen is immaculately cleaned with bleach. This weekend we had an "accident" and even the dishwasher was cleaned to the point of overflowing with bleach and detergents.

Since I started my 360° blog my stalkers have started a new ritual. They love to talk about how cold it is outside. They tell me that people in other countries have it much worse than any American ever could, and that they are grateful for the little comforts they have. The analogy is shoddy at best. The analogy is usually surrounded by other little stories and comments the gist of which is that a smart person would take a little discomfort rather than be homeless.

Without recounting every little detail I'd like to say that what happens in my offline life, as well as my online life, is far from a little discomfort. I haven't written about my Christmas ordeal, because I haven't been able to find words to describe it that aren't rife with the appropriate anger and indignation. Over Christmas the beer was drugged, and I was given more drugged food, which of course my offline friends had to joke about and pat each other on the back. They compliment each other at how clever they are when drugging my food. They actually believe this is true. Even though the only thing that's actually true is that I can't stop them or get away from them. We were given a bottle of Champaign for the New Year. The Champaign was drugged. It was a combination of drugs. The pain was incredible and when I came to I had soiled my bed. Over the next few days I was so drugged that I could barely think straight.

I've actually been given the drug that makes me lose control over my bowels much more often than I write about. My stalkers joke about it. The jokes aren't worth recounting here. Just imagine the average ten year old boys fascination with pooo" and sprinkle in a fewprofanitiess and you'll have a good idea of what its like. In a pathetic way it would even be funny if it weren't for the fact that they are essentially telling me that they are drugging me to humiliate me and there's nothing I can do about it.

My offline friends say I'm stupid for writing about this in my blog. For them its only natural that an adult would make fun of another adult being drugged into insensibility and losing control of his bowels in convulsive agony. My online stalkers tall me they love it, and my misery gives them joy.

Writing about it sucks almost as much as living it, and I'm about to run out of cigarettes, which they tell me is my "trigger" for an anger episode, as if I need a "trigger". Its all just bullshit. They are right about one thing. I am not smart enough to endure a few discomforts to save myself from being homeless. With gods grace I will never be that "smart". If they're right, and they seem to have the inside track on what's happening in my life, (who am I kidding, they are my life) I'll soon be homeless because I raise too much of a fuss over the lies and the drugs and the isolation and the manipulation and the theft of my things and the accusations of rape and murder. If they are right I will also be killed as punishment for my crimes.

Apparently there has been a great change in the world and it makes sense that I am isolated and tortured, and can write about it here without a single comment of outrage an only the most reserved sympathies. To the extent that people comment at all its to say they are sorry that I've been having trouble online. I've been writing about it for over a year. Recounting it again won't make it any better. To quote my stalkers "so be it". They love saying that.

Document made with Nvu

Wednesday, February 08, 2006


It really does look better. I guess you never know until you try. I tried once before, but I guess the Blogger servers were malfunctioning.

I collect a lot of pics off the web. You can never have enough pics of Lauren Bacall, unless of course you need to make more room for your pics of Ingrid Bergman. These pics really show how standards of beauty have changed over the years.

I don't really have anything else to say. Just wanted to pust a pic of Ingrid. enjoy.

Document made with Nvu


Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Colortini's

Actually they're all going to be black & white. I saw a feature on here to upload pictures directly to Blogger when I was playing with it earlier. What I want to do is use pictures in my posts without having to upload them to my Geocities. So, far that's not proving possilbe. OK, now I've created some content, now lets try to add an image.

Yup, that's what I wanted to do. Is that easier than the way I've been doing it? Lets see how it looks on the page.

She is a striking beauty, but I don't see how this is feature is useful for me. I neve post pics like this, although I guess I could. I remember seeing some other feature on the Blogger page..... brb Posted by Picasa

Playing with more free software. I'm working on a page about beautiful women for my Geocities. This is a pic of a very young Lauren Bacall. Lets see how it looks. Posted by Picasa

Later that day...

I guess I got a little too excited with my Nvu experiments. I tried to use it to edit my Blogger template. Do not do that. I or Nvu somehow rewrote the code for my template, and before I realized what had happened it was uploaded and saved. Good things came out of it. I had to install a new template and it seems to have pulled the blog together a bit. You may or may not notice a difference, but I see it.

I noticed some other things as well. I decided to take a look at other pages I had experimented on with Nvu. In the earlier post I commented on the number of visitors to my blog, but my Geocities page got more visitors than that today. Of course, my massive ego assumed that people were viewing my page, reading my poems or looking into my Black History Month links. This evening I discovered what they were actually looking at. Nvu has a CSS editor. I've never worked with a program that edits CSS before so I was using it to make some adjustments to my Geocities, and apparently made some mistakes. Well, at least that's what I think they were visiting to see. It would be very consistent with my stalkers behavior.

I have to confess I don't know how to relate to adults who take such prepubescent glee in the mistakes and misfortunes of others. I'm told its simply the way people are but its so abnormal to me that I'm constantly taken aback by it. I wonder who their friends are, where they work. What kinds of people associate with and respect people like that? I simply can't imagine. I'm actually proud that they hate me so much. When people like that see something they can relate to in you its time to reexamine your behavior.

On another note, TFD (Tales of the Forbidden Dreamer) has been visited by some of my 360° friends. I've added links to their 360° and Blogger blogs. I certainly appreciate the company.

Document made with Nvu

Thank You. Come Again.

I have to say I'm very excited about this new wave of traffic to my blog. I think I've gotten more comments in the last two weeks than I've gotten in the last year. My stalkers are even signing my Guest Book.

For the curious, I have four blogs. This is what is turning out to be my main blog. I also have two other blogs on Blogger; Dreams of Color and Interpretation. Links to both are in the side panel on the right.

My first two entries in Dreams of Color were about Matt Hale, the leader of our local branch of the KKK/Nazi Party. The project is unfinished and may be converted to drafts. Its not that I don't have anything to say on the subject of race in America, but I don't often think of constructive ways to say it. Still I like the idea of Dreams of Color, so it hasn't been deleted yet.

Interpretation is a blog on Buddhism. I find that writing about Buddhism is at least as challenging as applying the teachings of Buddhism to day to day life. I'm very satisfied with the content to date, very little of which is my own work.

Feel free to browse my other blogs. The comments are very encouraging.

Nvu-

Blogging with Nvu is as easy as falling off a log. You can basically format your blog entry any way you want and then cut and past from the WYSIWYG screen.

Creating web pages isn't as easy as I think it could be. Nvu is great for working with templates, but if you want to create a design from scratch, best stick with one of the standard HTML Editors.

The experiment continues.

Document made with Nvu