reading is good

Brad asked me to volunteer for one of his projects at the school and I said yes. He often asks me for these kinds of favors and I feel like I am always forgetting about them. Actually, I have been pretty forgetful a lot lately when it comes to my little hamlet. Chris asked me to come by and I forgot. She said it was important and I still forgot. The theater had a new play and I missed it. Rachel's wedding was in May, I missed it. Tara's was last week, I missed that too. I told Pam I would call, I haven't. Anne asked me to help her move her mom and I wasn't able to make it. I am pretty low on the social ladder right now. So I am helping Brad... by letting small children read to me for two hours every tuesday.

Yes, that's right, small children. Reading. In a school. Me. And I like it. I forgot what it was like to see a big word and be fearful of it. This whole experience has made me mindful of what a gift reading really is. From reading all things are possible and no matter what the status of your life, you can have more. Reading gives us a great deal to work with.

There are books that I recommend highly and there are writers that I think everyone should be familiar with. Included in that thinking is a hope that everyone will be able to read and be able to comprehend it. To read Atlas Shrugged, by Ann Rynd, is a task, to "get it" is even harder. For a seven year old, reading Ted's fishing trip is a huge task and it seems harder for him to comprehend that simple story than most people will find comprehending Rynd's works. Reading. What an adventure in and of itself.

Read Catch 22, Watership Down, In Our Time, Lamb, The Confederacy of Dunces, Siddartha, The Bell Jar, Atlas Shrugged, The River Why and In The Name of the Rose. See what you can take from those stories. From the writers. See if your comprehension is what it should be. In a way, reading some of those stories will take you back to a time when Ted's Fishing Trip was a huge challenge. How great it would be to have someone there to help you along and help you pronounce larger words and help you to make sense of what is being told.

My little town karma points are still low and I don't think four tuesdays of helping small children learn to read will put me back on the "in" list, but it's a start. A few more acts of kindness and perhaps I will be invited back to the Eagles club.

things are amiss

The questions of the weak has run it's course and is now so out of hand that I can no longer keep pace with it. I realize that most of my readers just like to get down to that post so I can't make it completely disappear all together so here are some options...

1. Nothing. Just call it a day.
2. I post the most relevant questions and have you all answer them.
3. Randomly pick the fifth the email question and only do twenty five.
4. Just answer the ones that ask for advice.

I am not sure what to do here. I love answering the questions but, damn! To be honest, I don't even open half the emails I get. Unless I know you personally. That is a sucky thing to say, but I have to be up front. Some of the questions I am being asked are from people I don't know and they are general questions that I think are self explanatory.

What religion are you?
Are you married?
Do you want kids?
Where do you live?

Those kinds of questions are first time readers and I appreciate their readership, but I think some back reading will answer most of them.

So, along with your checks for the book, I would like to hear your views on what path should be taken here. I won't listen to you no matter what you say, but it's considered polite to ask people for their advice before you shit on it.

Do I think athletes are overpaid?
Why not try this... We kill the losers, just like the Maya and Aztec used too.

For those of you that said young children don't understand sex when I mentioned the Mr. Jackson trial. Yes, they do. They know that grabbing their crotch feels good. They don't understand the emotional impact, but then again, neither do many grown ups. But they do know that touching their special place feels good. Every man remembers the joy of climbing a pole as a child and most women remember how much fun it was to hug that pillow between your legs.

For those of you who think that sex is better when tantra is applied, you're wrong. tantra was developed when there wasn't much to do but look at elephants pass by and fuck. There was a lot of time to fuck. Nowadays, we have shit to do. No one wants to fuck for four hours, they have jobs to get to and television shows to watch. If there is no porn for it, it isn't a sexual act. There is no tantra porn because no one wants to sit around that long. Want to spend more time with a loved one? Drive across the country without a stereo. Want to have a physical experience, shoot each other in the gut and walk to the fucking hospital together.

Do I want a revolution? Sure. Don't we all? I only hope it's for the right reasons. Find one reason that isn't selfish and unbalanced and I will jump on board.

Should you become a stand up comic? Absolutely. Give it a go. Try everything that your hearts tells you to try. No matter what. Apparently you're being drawn in, so as Kendall would say, "buy the ticket, take the ride". See what happens.

Is my wife cheating on me? Do you want to know? As a friend of mine said, "If you want to know, ask her every detail, down to how big his cock was, if they did anal, did she cum, how long did it last, and then after you hear it all, walk away. You will never recover, no matter what the answers are." If you like being married, don't ask. If you don't like the marriage, ask and be done with it. She says no. Leave her anyway, you were looking for a reason.

How do you handle stalkers? I have a few people that are border line, but I don't consider them stalkers until they cross the line. When that time comes, I will let you know what I did. It will most likely involve gun play.

I feel lost, what should I do?

Stop looking and start appreciating. Robinson Crusoe knew he was lost, he made the best of it. You are not on some desolate island living off bugs and fruit, so how lost can you be?

I think you see my point, eh? It's fun. And much easier to do. The personal questions are fun, but are a little bit more time consuming. The requests are great. I like some of your ideas and will do it again soon. If you would like to answer some questions from some of the readers, please let me know.

a courageous mullet

There are tons of jokes about the mullet. There are photos of the early hairstyle all over the web and in various photo albums around the world. I am sure that every family, with a few exceptions, has a photo of someone with a mullet. It's usually the photo that people try to hide when they see it again and it's the one that people tell themselves they are going to throw away but never do.

I saw a man in Oregon with a mullet. A goody. Nice and spiky on top with a sharp division separating the long, flowing goodness of the back. This man was looking in a mirror, combing it carefully, placing each lock in it's most outstanding position. You could tell, he felt coooool.

Everyone loves to pick on the mullet. To be more exact, people love to tease the PEOPLE that have a mullet. The mullet has come to represent white trash, truck drivin', lesbian hockey players and the humorous of the world, love a good stereotype. It wasn't too many years ago that everyone had one and then a moment in country music history, brought down the hallowed halls of mullet supremacy, Mr. Achy Breaky came to town.

Now, what should have been a pretty face being put on the hairstyle and sending it even further up the ladder of sexiness, turned out to be a death nail as the owner of this mullet chose to wear tight jeans and tennis shoes with it. Had he worn cowboy boots, I would most likely be writing this with my mullet pony tail hanging down on the keys of this computer. I am not sure which universe is better.

It takes a lot of courage, a ton of it, to continue to sport a mullet. I am sure the mullet people of the world know that they are a joke and that people laugh at them constantly, but it doesn't seem to bother them and they won't cut that hair for anybody or any reason. Even when the fashion changed. Even when the king of the mullet cut his off. Even when their stereotype started to take on a darker, dumber appearance, they hang on. That, my friends, is courage.

For all of us bland hair style wearing folk that change are hairstyles to accommodate the fashion of the day, or who wear an oldy-but-goody style that says nothing and takes no amount of courage to wear, I think we need to lay off the mullet bearers of the world. We can't judge them on any level. Are they not the ones that are not bowing to convention? Are we not the ones who lack the originality? Are they not doing something that we, ourselves, could not do?

So, bravo, Mister or Misses mullet wearer. You are a true keeper of the flame. You live as a strong example of what we all hope to one day be; a true individual.

PRE ORDER, THE BOOK OF DANIEL

Okay, here it is...

The book will be 12.95 ( US funds ) when it comes out at the end of July. For those of you who would like to have a copy saved for you and signed by me, you can send 9.95 for the book and 4.00 (US) for shipping and handling. 9.00 (US) for all international orders.

Daniel Rock

PO Box 131
Dayton, WA
99328

After the book comes out, the price goes to 12.95 plus shipping and handling.

I am not sure the conversion rate for every country but I am sure you can figure it out.

Thank you for all the preorders, it will help me figure out how many of you really want to see this. As of now, the early writings will disappear.

Thanks everyone,

Daniel

again with the sharks

Right before the now infamous, September 11th, or as we like to call it, 9 - 11, there had been a rash of shark attacks off the secure beaches of America. It seems that not only were we allowing terrorists into the country unchecked, but we were allowing deadly sharks to eat helpless swimmers at their leisure. In defense of the government, we didn't have a department of homeland security yet and George Bush and his staff were busy with other things and couldn't address the shark thing.... or...

If you really think about it, sharks have always been in the ocean. Previous administrations, at the behest of smart, sciencey-type people, created special areas of the ocean and special regulations, all for the safe preservation of the sharks. This worked for years and years. A few people were bit, some eaten, but that is to be expected. It is, as it turns out, their world, not ours. We, as humans, can only own 25 percent of the total area of the world, the sharks have up to 75 percent, so I think they win this one. So a few dead surfers a year, we can live with that. Until...

It turns out that there is some much needed oil at the bottom of the ocean and there is a need to place some "waste" somewhere that won't get in the way. Who would want such a thing you ask? Well, think about it. Someone who needs to increase the value of their company's stock. Sort of speak. Well, in order to reverse a national protected species act and move protected grounds, it takes an act of congress, in order for congress to do such a thing, they need to know that they aren't going to look hard on the environment when it comes to election time, so it's best to ask the people of their states what THEY think they should do. So, in order to get the people of said state to allow a politician to vote for something that is obviously anti-conservationalist, they need the people to be on board. Generally, when you want to convince someone of something you can do it in one of two ways; make them see the logic of it, or make them emotionally involved in it. When using logic, facts are laid out and good things get done. In this case, telling people that big business wants to drill for oil or to sink waste, isn't going to get the agenda through. No, it's better to convince the people that the area that is needed is full of death. Scary, man eating death. Death so foul, that we dare not show you the photos or share the tales. Death that feels like deadly death with a twist of lemon. Ouchy death. Stingy, needles, asprin-ain't-gonna-cut-it death.

SO, get the people convinced that sharks are a threat to national security and are somehow bringing in dirty bombs and you have people willing to let congress overturn some minor environmental issues. The people think they are doing a good thing and big business makes some money. It all works out. Even for the sharks. We can't tell the sharks to move. And what difference does it make whether they eat your cousin, Jimmy or a 50 gallon drum of toxic waste?

The sharks returned to the news and again, an airplane accident follows. However, this one involved a Walton kid, so I doubt we will see a charity concert for either the victim's family or the people that lived around the mountain that was crashed into. One of the heads of the super secret society of Wal Mart, died miserably. His little plane made it's way into the side of a mountain. In a very Wal Marty way, he did manage to kill some trees and start a fire, scarring the side of that mountain forever. I hope that the department of homeland security sees that wal mart funded this terrorist and will wage a full on war against the people that harbored him and supported him. I will proudly wear a magnetic ribbon on my car for that war effort.

fraility

There are times in my life when I wonder what life would have been like had certain conditions in my past been different. I wonder what could have happened, or what I might be like. I think of what I might be doing now and if there is something that I could live without. Would I have smoked? Would I be taller? Would I have been married with children? Would I have been a banker or a pilot? You can carry on like this for years and sometimes it feels like I do.

It depresses you or maybe it's a sign of depression when you just think about it in the first place. Why would you want things to be so different? Isn't the life you have now worthy of your appreciation? The fact that you are alive to even think about it says that it wasn't as bad as you think it is. If you had turned right, then you would have never seen what was to the left and then you would have always wondered.

I think that we dwell on "what if's" as a sort of reverse hope or fantasy. We think of ourselves as better people with better lives and we can actually see the life we should be living instead of actually embracing the one we have. We like to mope about and blame certain occurrences, deficientcies, bad genetics, bad luck or lack of opportunity on all of our problems. Some of that may be true, but the ability to see what it could be means that only you are keeping that life from being a reality. In the immortal words of Dr. Frankenfurther, "don't dream it, be it."

For me, I don't always have to dream about what if's. I have a family that loves to remind me of the what if's and what could have beens. I think anyone that comes from a position of constant badgering is driven to doubt their happiness as to whether or not it's real or just a lie that we convince ourselves of to accommodate the badgering. It gets too me and I am not always sure what I should do. There are others out there with worse parents than mine and I use that as a life preserver when I let their bullshit get to me.

The worse part is that there is really no one out there to talk to about it. There are kind words and friendly faces, but that's all they can be. Fighting with yourself over issues that are the very foundation of "YOU" is very private business. Ultimately you either kill yourself or you find a peace within the eye of the storm. I am two-thirds of the way to peace. With a few minor steps, I think I will be just fine having never had the life I think others wanted for me, expected of me, or expects of me now.

For the rest of you that would think that your life is so hectic, confusing, depressing, unexciting or dull, I suggest you accentuate the positives and accept that which you are not. For example, you can read. You can think. You can speak... maybe. You ARE NOT living in a mud hut that smells of goat ass. You ARE NOT infested with intestinal parasites that are slowing eating you from the inside. You ARE NOT being shot at every day.

It's very satisfying to feel sorry for ourselves. It's hard to accept that being alive is ever enough. It's also easy to miss the point.

requested #5

Sorry this took so long, relatives in town, work to be done, details later....

Reader: Describe Finland.

Me: WELL, last time I checked it was in scandinavia. Northern Europe, bordering the old Soviet Union and Sweden. The majority of the population lives to the south and the northern half of the country is rough and rugged. The capital is Helsinki, I think. The people are called, Fins and they do well at winter sports. It is often overlooked as a country because it's cuisine isn't served in any restaurants and it's cultural hertiage isn't part of pop culture on any level.

I am not sure, but I think Finland still has a monarch and the people there pay a lot in taxes. In return they get blonde hair and the devotion of small, angry, anti-semitic austrians and people with a "blonde" fetish.

I am sure most of them fish, or eat fish, or know what fish are. I am sure that they wish their flag wasn't as bland as their neighboring scandiavian countries. You would think they would break away and put a bold looking lemming waving a hockey stick in one hand and a dead, half eaten fish in the other. It could have a mean looking scowl on it's face and be marching defiantly toward the edge of a cliff...

I don't know much about Finland. I thought about it, but I don't. I was going to do some info and stat checking, but I can't find the time. It's a country on my planet and I don't even take the time to look at it.

requested #4

Reader: Tell me about the world of stand up comedy.

Me: The world of stand up comedy is a small one. It is made up of the performer, which anyone can be, and the audience, which we all are. Somewhere in the middle sits the world of the interlopers, those who would call themselves a part of it. They are made up of bookers, club owners and talent agents, who's only job is too make money off everyone for nothing whatsoever.

The performer is someone with the courage to stand and deliver in front of strangers. It feels a lot like being introduced at a party that is in full swing and you show up late and the host stops the party to introduce you. For a brief moment, everyone is watching. First impressions. Sizing up your appearance, your personality, all from what you give them. In order to be funny, you have to either look funny, sound funny or have something entertaining to say.

Stand up is less and less about jokes. It's more about a "show". Entertaining an audience so they feel like they got their time and money's worth. There are a ton of entertainment options and seeing a live comic is not high on anyone's priority list unless they A) secretly want to be a comic and this is as close as they can get to a stage or B) are dragged in by friends or C) were given tickets. Sensing this as the formula, clubs have taken to hiring former sit com stars that have name recognition, but no talent. The tickets are expensive and the audiences leave with a bad taste in their mouths.

The up and coming comics are infalliable. Or so it would seem. They walk around like a man possessed ( I say man, because females have a tough road to travel in this trade, unless they are a lesbian or a fat housewife ) and they take no shit and don't need advice. They are bringing something so new and original that the comedy world will have to bend the rules for them. They don't and these kings of men quietly fall into a slump, which will consume them. Thank allah.

For those who make it past what is called the three months blues, the point at which your material abandons you and you have no direction to travel and no friends to talk too, they see a light and swim through a sea of foul smelling shit for months before someone gives them the time of day. This is what other industries call, "earning your stripes". It entails, bad gigs for no money. Bad gigs that are ten hours away. Bad gigs with other bad comics and then more bad gigs with bad audiences. This is where the entertainer in every comic dies and he/she becomes resolved to kill everyone, smoke pot, drink excessively, screw with reckless abandon and make everyone pay for their pain. IF they live through this, they get to step four or three....

Career. By this time, the entertainer has become part of the fabric of mainstream entertainment. They see that stand up is not the end, but a means to an end, and that a writing gig or an acting career has to be found, otherwise, it was a nice pipe dream while it lasted. The drinking, pot smoking and philandering continue.

For those who miss their shot at fame and fortune, there is always ass kissing. Becoming friends with bookers, agents and club owners who will be willing to keep you alive by keeping your irrelevent ass working at their venues. Audiences bore of them quickly. The entertainer becomes a shell of a human and spits out venom and glorious tales of the "good old days" when comedy paid and everything was free. You would think that some television show missed their shot at this prize, not the other way around.

For those lucky enough not to base their ego on whether or not they are funny and not to set value to themselves based on what an audience, their peers or the industry thinks of them, there is hope. A life with family, home and other pursuits. For those who do emphasize these things, there is always booze, another hotel room, more tiny bottles of shampoo. More long drives. It's heaven.

For me, I look at comedy as an extended vacation, which eventually had to end. The comedy road took me everywhere and it was nice to see some of these places... once. The third and fourth time. Not so much. All that alone time, all that seperation anxiety that sets in when you have to say goodbye to someone you worked with all week, all that happening, week after week, month after month. It wears on you. You miss friends, familly, favorite restaurants, favorite haunts. You spend every holiday away from everyone and you miss out.

But, damn, making people laugh is the best feeling in the world when you want it to be and can remember it.

requested #3

Reader: I would like to have you comment on racial issues. Your post regarding Mexicans was quite compelling and I would like to see if this same mentality can be applied to other ethnic groups.

Me: No. It can't. There is no fixed formula for racism or the way I, or we, treat others. There are moments when I think someone's character IS about the color of their skin OR their religious beliefs. Where they come from in the world has a lot to do with what kind of people they are. Every culture has it's own rules and they are not all going to work in other cultures. Example: The Saudi's beadheaded a woman for sleeping with a man she was not married too. In Pakistan a woman was raped as a punishment for something her brother did. In America we would execute someone for killing one person and let someone who has killed many, live.

Everyone has differing ideas and to accept their ideas and to see them as different, is a racist ideal. Not all racism is bad, but most of it is. It's a fact that "accepting diversity" means being okay with niggers, chinks, kikes and wops, pollocks, tutsis, kafirs, untouchables, hillbillies, wetbacks, spics, bohunks, guineas, mics, bitches, retards, giants, midgets.... this list goes on, and accepting them is the right thing to do. But that doesn't mean you feel that way. Maybe you were raised to believe that they are lesser creatures than you and in that same culture you were taught to believe that angels with horns will signal the end of the world. Perhaps the world is flat in some corners of it.

The only time racism gets attention is when it's negative. When the racism is positive, we call it being progressive. The issue or racism is a non factor. It's so low on my list of things to worry about or address, that I rarely take it into consideration when dealing with the world around me. I don't lock my doors because there are blacks around, I lock them because "someone" might steal my shit.

Every bad trait of humans is found in us all. No one color or corner of the world is immune from emotion. As long as emotion lives in us all, there will always be fear, jealousy, anxiety, doubt, anger, pain and selfishness. As long as we still feel these things, we will always have outsiders, strangers, suspicious characters and things that are not "us". When that goes away, I think you will see racism go away.

Final note: I hate anyone from Vermont. Why? Why not? Ever see them up close? They smell funny. And you can't trust them with money. They are greedy and diseased. They try to fuck are women and they abuse their children. Feel free to fill in your hated group at the beginning of this final thought. It should work for everyone.

requested #2

Reader: All this talk about sex... you think you know so much... what are the worst experiences?

Me: Those remarkably bad ones out weigh the good ones. But this is true for everyone. For every good lover you have, you will have two or three or four bad ones. In my case, that ratio is more 1:10. The worst of the worst...

I have no idea why I did this, but when I was about 18 years old, I was willing to anything for anyone that wanted to fuck me. It didn't matter what they looked like or what the circumstances were. It was a terrible habit and I had my fair share of drives home going, "I can't believe I just did that!" They were awful. In this case, I was willing to go home with a girl that lived at home with overbearing parents. She was rich and the house she lived in was quite a castle. In order for me to get into the house, I had to get in the trunk of her car and be driven on to the "lot" and stay in the trunk until the parents went to bed and the coast was clear. This whole process took three hours. The father came into the garage twice to look around for me, he knew there was someone but he never checked the trunk. Idiot. However, it would have been salvation for what was to happen next.

I haven't mentioned that this girl was not my type at all. If it wasn't for the cartons of smokes and periodic stipend, I don't think I would have been as willing to overlook the obvious flaws. Yes, I would go home with anyone, but not ANYONE. I had minimal standards and she didn't meet them.

The crawl through the kitchen to avoid a motion sensor and the crawl up the stairs to go "around the parent's bedroom" and then back down a back set of stairs to a basement to her world. She was a quiet girl which meant it was going to be weird and it started at hello. First thing.. she slapped me and started calling me names. It got worse. Eventually, after some heavy bondage and some near death grapples, I think we fucked. Terrible business. The best part was leaving. I had to sneak out of a house, across four acres of highly protected landscaping and then two miles or so down a road to my car, which I had no idea where it was, because I didn't drive here or see the route we had taken.

It was morning when I found my car, drove home smelling of bad sex and bruised. Now here's the worst part. I was willing to do this four more times for the money.

That is the worst. There are others, but I dare not think of them or I will cry.

requested #1

Reader: It seems that you write about Canada, Children and how much you dislike George Bush.... ...please write about something you are positive about.

Me:

In every writer, or wanna be writer's heart, there is a log jam of ideas and words that are jockeying for position to be the first one out. Every day brings a new idea and every person you meet can bring something new to your perspective. It happens to me and I enjoy it. I wish I could write more about Argentina, but I have never been, don't know many people from there and hear very little from the fine Argentinians. I write about Children because it's a topic that people love to talk about with me. I have NO idea why, but they do. Maybe it's just those conversations that I hear or remember. I think that it's those conversations that I lose my patience with the fastest due to a lack of interest, but I do endure. With George Bush, I just can't say enough and if I don't who will?

Things I am positive about are exactly what I am writing about. I am positive about my feelings and attitudes in regards to my subject matter. They may not always been entertaining or insightful, but I am trying. For example, I opened the door for you to choose a topic for me and I will do what I can to write something interesting for you. This whole week will be dedicated to that. If you enjoy what I say, then groovy. If not, too bad. You asked for it.

Thanks everyone... Your comments on this site are as exciting as I thought they would be.

auto erotic

Downtown is covered from bridge to bridge with fine automobiles that fine folks have restored to show off to other fine folks. Lovely, ancient pieces of nostalgia that are in better shape than most working vehicles of the day.

There is no system to their location on main street. A Dodge will be parked next to a Chevy which is parked next to a Hudson which is parked next to some car that no one has ever heard of. There are brilliantly colored cars, with million dollar dashboards, stadium surround sound stereo systems, custom made seats that make your couch at home look uncomfortable and a pair of fuzzy dice, just to be kitchy. Walking among them a strong sensation overcomes you, "I want to do this." Which is a mistake. It costs more money than most people pay for a home to remodel these cars. The time investment alone is more time than you spend at your job in a year. If you're happily married, you are gonna push that to it's limits and then tetter there for years. No, it's best to look and then go home and change the oil in your own car. It's not a full remodel, but at least you feel you have done something crafty. Maybe armour all your dash or vacuum out the back seat. That helps too.

Lately there has been a big trend on television with motorcycle and other auto rebuilds and custom mades. The discovery channel might as well just change their name to the "American Chopper" network. What used to be a channel dedicated to discovery is now being formatted to entertain motorheads that would never normally watch the discovery channel. It worked. But for those of us who enjoyed the animal shows and other educational programming, we have to go back to PBS for our television entertainment.

I think America really wants to remodel. It loves the notion. We do it with cars, kitchens, garages, homes, lawns, faces, bodies, personalities.... you name it, we remodel it and then make a television show to entertain you with stories about it. I know that coming soon will be an show called, Extreme makeover, Neighborhood edition. Where they remove white trash and other unsavory neighbors and replace them with likeable ones.

What is missing is a need to create something new. A new classic if you will. Something that car shows in the next forty years will be proud to show. I doubt if my new Mazda will be at a car show parked next to a Mustang, and I doubt that someone would care enough to remodel it and make it look BETTER than it's original presentation. Of course, I say this without knowing what TLC will be broadcasting in the future. There could be a show called, your old mazda is new. You can never tell....

To entertain these car enthusiasts, the local theater decided to show a movie with a car theme. Great idea, they could show, "Tucker" or "American Graffiti" or "Herbie does something" or "Black moon rising" or "The wraith" or "The road warrior".... they decided on "gone in sixty seconds". which is about a group of car thieves that have to steal 200 classic cars in one night. In the movie, a vintage shelby mustang is destroyed. I didn't get to watch the movie with the enthusiastic, but I wonder just how uncomfortable they were watching that knowing that their cars were sitting unattended outside.

I love this town. Tonight there is a free dance. A hop... no. A barn burner of a country square dance. Does anyone even remember how to do that????

yeast

A friend of mine found a way to get sick in the warm june sun and is now taking antibiotics for whatever she picked up. Three days into her pill popping treatment, she discovered that she had a yeast infection. Back to the doctor. He informs her that her antibiotics gave her a yeast infection or, at the very least, made it more likely for her to get one. So... she set out to do one thing and the opposite occurred...

Hmmmmm....

Rambling on the radio was one of America's premier thinkers, Bill O'Reilly. A very self righteous man, a pervert with an obscure past. My favorite type of scoundrel. He was ranting and raving about something, and he made a point of bringing up the war in Iraq. What followed was hazy. I wasn't sure if he was for or against it. If he was stating his opinion or fact or if he liked the present administration or was against it. But I listened, you never know when Bill's perversion might slip into one of his tirades.

In his sermon he stated that we are at "war with terror" and that we won't stop the fighting until one of these things happens, I am not sure which one, and from the sound of it, neither did Bill.

A. we have killed all the terrorists and made Iraq a safe place for Americans to visit.
B. we have convinced every wanna be terrorist not to fuck with us or we will kill their cows and chickens.
C. we haven proven that we finish what we started.
D. we show the universe, and all those alien pussies out there in it, that humans can fight a conventional war against a concept and kick it's ass. ( watch out poverty, starvation and illiteracy)
E. we have milked the region for all it's resources and made savvier and more dedicated terrorists mad at us.

I love this debate and I try to find it whenever I can. The foolish thought that we can win a war against "terror" is absolutely delicious. I have written about this before, but I never had a great analogy to tie to it. So, along comes a yeast infection brought on by antibiotics and I am rollin'. Now if we can only link cancer to christianity... ( working on it )

Sometimes your best intentions are shit. You can set out to accomplish something, or pretend to accomplish something in some instances, and do nothing but achieve the complete opposite of what you were hoping for (again, in some instances). Most of the time, these decisions are made in moments of emotional weakness which we disguise as genius. An example might be thinking you can jump from a five foot porch onto the ground to avoid having to walk ten feet to use the stairs. Or, you are in a hurry and traffic is two lanes of slow death. You see a gap in the next lane and think that you are going to make it to your destination faster if you shift lanes, which seems to be moving faster than the one you're in. You shift lanes and watch, painfully, as the lane you were just in moves like a bullet while the lane you have just moved into settles down to a crawl.

I am sure you can see the point.

To think of the war in Iraq as a yeast infection makes me happy. To think of the bastards in that new lane as yeast also makes me happy. You can argue that Christians are a human cancer, but I wouldn't do that to cancer. The difference between a christians and someone with cancer, everyone likes you if you have cancer. The similarities of christians and someone with cancer are endless, but my favorite one is, if you have it, you can go on television and raise money for it.

There is a lot to do in the June sunshine. Benches and fences. Gardens full of yummy food. A stubborn lawn, new chickens and a bathroom that is sinking. Ah, I wonder what I should do first?

Go ahead, post your comments

And keep it clean...

Another note. When the book is published the first five months of this will be erased and you will have to buy the book on Amazon.com to reread them. OR, if you want, you can download them all right now and stick them on the fridge.

If you have something you would like me to write about, do it in comments. If you have an argument or complaint, make it in comments. If you want to fuck me, again... in comments. I am only going to have this up for two weeks, just to see how it works. If it doesn't bog things down, then we will keep it. If it does, then it's back to sifting through emails.

AND won't this be a way for many of you to introduce yourselves to others. IF you are not a blogger, then I guess you have to email me your comments. Which I am willing to accept.

Does anyone want to be a paid staffer for this site?

All my love to you... I have to go, my little hamlet is holding it's annual car show this weekend and I have to run off and drool on the baracudas. (doesn't that sound like a post title? Drool on the baracuda... hmmmmmm )

QUESTIONS OF THE WEAK

From now on, if you have a question... please indicate in the subject line of your email which post it refers too.

Here is what I scraped together from over three hundred questions...
What is a Jayhawk? I have never heard of it.

A Jayhawk is the mascot for the University of Kansas. It's a make believe bird.

If you had a slave, what would you make them do?

If it was from Kansas, I would make it do strange and unusual sexual acts on me. Stuff that Germans won't do. I would brand them and tattoo them. Then yard work.

What kind of music do you dance too? (death flavored dance)

Sometimes the music makes the dance.... She sells sanctuary by The Cult. Headhunter by Front 242. The list is endless. What ever seems to make me move.

Do you think what "deep throat" did was a good thing? (geneva geneva)

Yes. Whistle blowing is a part of our world. There are differing degrees of telling on someone. On one end of the scale is the tattle tale that tells on you whenever you do anything even remotely bad. And then there is the kind of tattle tale that lets the world know that they are being fucked in the ass. You have to find a balance in that sliding scale.

If you were referring to the movie... she wasn't that hot and, from what I remember, not all that good at it. However, I do enjoy a good blow job.

Your country seems to be causing a lot of trouble in the world. Do you think there will be a backlash?

Yes, as soon as the power structure is replaced by another one ( most likely a democrat one ) then the backlash will come fast and furious. Denied visas, lower trade, etc. The right will blame the left for it all, the people will believe it and re elect another republican. Thus putting the power structure back into place to make it even worse. The world will continue to hate us and make it hard for Americans to travel. But that's really the worst thing that can happen, I know this, because I lie to myself about it.

What was it like having two fathers? In my country, that is an insult.

Having two fathers was interesting. They couldn't be more different. But the difference made it work. I am not sure what country you are from, but maybe you need to rethink your insults. In my country, just knowing your father is amazing. I am not saying our mothers are whores, but we don't see much daddy business around here. I guess in your country, having one father with the option for two says more about your women and less about your family structure.
How do you think the death of your father affected your views on parenting?

I don't think it had any impact at all. He died. He didn't do it to teach me anything and I didn't stop to consider if I was learning anything at the time. Looking back now, I think his death was a lesson in family acceptance and communication. I have other family members and if you don't want them to die without having ever known them, you have to talk somehow and then learn to live with WHO they are.

Why don't you smoke pot?

I used to. I loved it. I smoked it a lot. By not smoking it now, I am leaving extra for 13 and 14 year olds to try it and enjoy it.

Are you crazy? ( referring to Mr. Jackson's sex crime allegation )

Yes. Very. Crazy enough to question myself. I never want to be so stubborn and set in my ways that I am not willing to question my own opinions. I don't support NAMBLA and I don't think anyone should fuck someone under the age of 25. But I am willing to think about it and make up my own mind as to why.

Do you think the drug companies are behind the recent legislation?

Sort of. But it's a deeper issue. Drug companies are just parts of bigger corporate entities. Drug companies would love to see pot legal. They would make a fortune. But other aspects of the corporate structure would lose money. AND never blame the drug companies.... drugs are good.

What would you say at a graduation ceremony if you were asked to give a speech?

First, I am having a hard time visualizing a time when a school would allow me to give a speech in front of children. Second, I am sure the speech would be so disheartening and offensive that people would boo or throw things at me. BUT, I would love to do it. I love fucking in those robes. I fucked a girl in her robes and left a little stain on them moments before she went to the ceremony, which I attended, just so I could gloat.
Are you upset that some of your readers have blogs of their own and aren't reading yours?

No. This blog thing is new and there are no real rules to how it works. I think it's foolish to think that anyone is going to continue to read this forever. Readers come and go and if the reason they go is because they have found a voice and are using it and don't have time to read my ramblings, then that's a good thing. One more person worth knowing. I might miss some of the offers.

It may not seem like a lot, but most of the questions I am getting are pretty standard fair. Where do you live, what do you look like, are you married, etc. These are new reader questions and I have answered them before. I will admit to not answering personal questions regarding my family.... again. Until, they tell me that they have no problem having their lives talked about, I will not do so on this site.

If you have a question you would like answered that doesn't suck, is easy to understand, has something to do with me, the world I talk about or the positions I take, THEN email me at NATIVEROCK_2000@YAHOO.COM

I can't tell you how much easier it is to answer these questions when I can filter them.

vim and vigor

I am known as a lot of things, to many people and for many reasons. This collection of writing has certainly created some new tags for me and I will wear them with a smile. Some of the labels thrown around make sense and some are as curious to me as my sex life is to all of you. Yes, there are just some things that just.... baffle.

I was called a communist yesterday. When I explain myself further, I am called, "a middle of the roader". Which, I guess is a bad thing. I know this because following, soon after is the statement, "the only thing you find in the middle of the road is a yellow streak." An insult to be sure, especially when you consider who is using it.

I am a middle of the roader. I do like to be in the middle of the action, because that's where you get the best sense of what is going on. When you sit on one side of road, you miss everything going on on the other side. It's a comfortable place to pass judgment and requires no real thought. Just sit on the safe side of the road and behave accordingly.

For those of us in the middle, we are trying to figure things out. One side of the road isn't much better than the other and it would seem that drifting to one side would strip us of the greatest gift that any animal on this planet has ever been blessed with. Reason.

Let's use an example. There are sooooo many, I just don't know which one to pick....

Gun control. Always popular.

Side of the road, "BLUE" states that guns aide in crime, increase death and are an outdated concept in regards to personal ownership. Side of the road, "RED" states that guns are a guaranteed right by the US constitution, aide in keeping the government from raiding our houses and taking away our civil liberties ( I know, I know, just bear with them ) and guns actually prevent crime from occurring.... in their house.

The middle of the roaders, see it this way.. Guns do kill people. Some people aren't great at decision making and are not really human, as we understand the definition. So guns are bad. BUT, it's true, guns to prevent certain things from happening and they are protected by the constitution. Seeing both sides of the argument, the Middle of the Roader can make a sensible decision BASED ON THE SITUATION. That's right, in the middle of the road, with things whizzing past so quickly, you don't have time to take right and wrong into consideration. You know what logic dictates and is really what all decisions SHOULD be based on.

But that isn't the way the system works and ONLY MIDDLE OF THE ROADERS know this.

I like my yellow stripe. I like the present danger and I like the ability to say I am in it. Side of the roaders, what do they know? Lots of ballyhoo, lots of yelling and screaming. Lots of self righteous indignation... no heart.

The only thing I know to be on the side of the road.... trash, roadkill and weeds. And slippery rocks that can make you lose control.

sex isn't a legal issue

Mr. Jackson isn't a pedophile, this according to the judicial system of California as a jury of his peers found him not guilty of all charges. A jury of peers.... Mr. Jackson was born into a big, black Jehovah witness family and was a super star when he was 5. He recorded the largest single selling album of all time and has done wonders for the cosmetic surgery world as a walking billboard. Are there really 12 people just like that?

So, no, he didn't touch small boys. No, he didn't pay large sums of cash to their families. No, he didn't get them drunk or let them watch porn. No, Mr. Jackson is a good man. For now.

I think the issue here isn't whether or not he fucked those kids, but whether or not sex should regulated by law. Is it really a good idea to place restrictions on sex? How often do the laws that are in place actually help us as a society? Rape is bad. But that is so much more than just the act itself, so it's not a sex law. And the laws we have regarding rape don't deter anyone from committing it. AND if they get caught, they get to hang out with other rapists and rape each other. Then, when the prisons are too full, we let one or two of them back out and they take their skills to a whole new level.

Women who strip on stage are told by law what they can show or not show on stage. No female is allowed to show her breasts in public. No man is allowed to show his cock in public. Fellatio is illegal in every state. Most sexual positions are illegal in some states. Talking dirty is illegal. So is showing sex on television, mentioning sex on radio or print. There are now new laws being drafted to make all online sex/porn sites have to use .xxx for their domain name. Which, if allowed, will make it possible for the government to regulate the internet. We must be cautious.

Sex is illegal everywhere. Fucking before marriage. During marriage with someone else. Fucking more than one person at a time. Fucking someone of the same sex. Using toys, food, or "aides" is illegal in some areas. And I want to know why?

I have fucked my way around the world. I have seen some of the most tawdry things done by those who would have us think them an innocent. I have thought, at times, that the more straight laced the person's social persona, the more deviant their private one must be. This from years of watching Jekyl become Hyde. So why try to regulate what people do? Has any of it worked out for the greater good?

In America, it's illegal to distribute condoms in the nurse's office of a high school. But a big issue according to a slick politician is AIDS prevention, teen pregnancy, the drop out rate and abortion. All of which we circumvent with condoms... for the most part.

I am a kinky bastard and I have little to no moral fiber when I am naked and their is a willing soul in front of me. I play by the rules that we set up, but those rules change from each encounter. It can change with the same person. One moment it's "go ahead" and the next, "not today". So how do you regulate what people want to do and stop them from achieving it? I guess we could scare people away from certain acts of sexual perversion. Or we could tell them they are different and therefore "broken" and no good to anyone. I guess we could make a not-so-secret underground world where people can go to tap into their sexual desires. We could create a parallel universe where people could go to get away from the lies and become themselves, if only for a brief while. Now wouldn't that be something?

In Mr. Mike's case, touching small boys is an odd fetish. I have tried to be very open minded to all kinds of sexual pursuits and not to judge. However, in this case, I am pretty sure, Mike's fascination with boys is going to hard to explain. Let's try....

I don't see it as sexual. I see it as a hobby. I see Mike enjoying the miniature nature, much the same way people enjoy a bansai tree or a model train. I don't think there is a sexual nature to it so much as a grown up with a lost childhood, who is trying to recapture it. I know this isn't sitting well with any of you, but hear me out. Do you think a person who never knew childhood wouldn't want to find one? How many of you would like to feel as innocent as you did on saturday morning in front of the cartoons? How easy it was to entertain yourself and how easy life was to live when you didn't have bills, health issues or future plans that involved a lot of waiting around. Maybe Mike just wants to be a normal kid, like everyone else. If he is a pedophile, then he should move to Japan and just go crazy with it. They love that shit there.

In closing... I am not, nor shall I ever be a pedophile. So don't ask. Free yourself sexually and the rest of the world will seem like smooooooth sailing. What else are you hiding? Nothing, just your sexual desires.

blogs

I started this little blog several months ago and in that time I have watched the readership grow from twenty or so close friends to over a twelve hundred or so readers, most of whom, I will never meet.

When this started, only Marcus had a blog. And he stayed the only reader with a blog, until a few more readers showed up and they got the bug. Now, over three hundred of you have blogs. Most of them, really, really good. Some not so good... (no) I try to read as many as I can, but I can't really get to all of them. I don't have time to read all your emails. I am not even sure I can do questions of the weak anymore. There are too many questions and I don't have a ten hour day to accomodate the readership.

The book is coming along and I hope to have it out soon. I think I can sell it on Amazon.com so look for it there. At this time, it's called, The Book Of Daniel.

As many of you come to see the joy and release that writing can bring to you. The strange power that giving life to your feelings and thoughts can bring you, I feel, in some strange way, lost. That sounds just as weird as it was to type.

Let me explain.

I have a reader that was around starting in December... avid fan, loyal and humorous. She has never met me and given the fact that she is in Florida, we probably never will. Married. Lonely. On the computer a lot. From her, I have over two hundred readers. She finally started her own blog and her life has gained a new color which seems to be dancing in. With that knowledge, I am content. But, she isn't an avid reader any more. She dedicates so much time to her own blog that she doesn't have time to read mine. She wants to fill the endless pages of cyberspace with her life story and, to make sure that there is enough to say, she spends more time each day living and less time reading about others. A lovely and sad catch 22. Many of the readers of this blog have found that to be true. A daily entry can free your whole day and you can spend the rest of the day thinking about what you are going to write the next day. Some of you are filling space with a recap, which is rather dull, but some of you are taking great care to express inner parts of your soul and to share things that I am sure would be stiffled in any other organized situation.

So blessed be the blog. It hath freed many a weary soul from the bonds of mediocrity and made LIFE, again... worth living.... and sharing...

I will continue on...

My family has a dark cloud on the horizon and I hope that you will grant me some space to work through this. In a strange way, it has everything to do with what you see before you. A story. As your story is written, you release to the world and you are no longer burdened with having to carry it on as it's sole witness. Lose the details of the story and it's lost forever.

There is a good chance that altzerheimers is making a stop in my little hamlet.

heidi

heidi
Originally uploaded by nativerock.

Not everyone knows one, but everbody should

QUESTIONS OF THE WEAK

Just kidding... I am on a break for the weekend... I am dealing with a family emergency, I will be back with you on monday...

and set them out into the world as seeds from a tree

It never gets said at graduations, but it should.

Set them free! Let them go! Help them pack and see them off! Yes, today is the day you get to have your home back and you can fuck in it whenever you want too. That's right! Let them bugger off and find a job, pay bills and suffer at their own hands. You don't have to anymore! Let them go! And enjoy the extra $1000 or more a month that you will save by not having them around. Your social stigma is in remission. Go forth and be FUN AGAIN!!!!

Then people would cheer and the children would stare.... blankly at their parents, who are cheering so much their faces are red and some even have tears in their eyes. Their wives are so busy they don't even offer them a tissue to wipe it off.

That would be a ceremony.

The high school, like any good tree, went to seed this past week and it's pollen was out in force, ready to go. You can always tell the seed is ready to fly away as a small wing has attached itself to the top of it and the surface area increases a bit. Just enough to carry it away on the next strong breeze to places far away so it might plant itself in the fertile soil and make it's mess somewhere else. Or, at least, that is what the parents are hoping.

The young ladies looked ready to win a war in their cap and gowns and the boys looked ready to follow those women. 18 year olds just seem to glisten and they seem, riper in certain ways. Very appealing, and yet, for the more stubborn of heart, not ripe enough. Not yet anyway. Parents take pictures and the old people wearing gowns make dull speeches and then everyone throws a hat in the air (some of the parents have to be told not to do that, but we humor them) and then it's out of there and on to a barbecue.

The boys wore the black gowns and the girls wore the red. From where I was sitting it looked like a bunch of molecules floating around in a Petrie dish. I am sure the black molecules were excited about merging with some of the red molecules as soon as possible.

There is just intelligent life everywhere in the forgottens. The people, the river, the animals and the trees. There is just enough life to remind you that not everything is so defeatist and skeptical. The river keeps flowing and if you try to stop it, it tries to find another way around, it always wants to flow. And it gets angry when you fuck with it. The animals know a good deal when the see one and are not in any hurry to leave this place. They have what they want and have no concern for life elsewhere, they just enjoy what they have. AND the trees.... the smartest life in the world. Trees, plants, flowers are a life and are all intelligent. Don't believe me, I will explain....

Flowers... have to reproduce as it's the only function in life that every life form on this planet lives for. Flowers have no brain, no heart and no apparent means of communication to get their seed to spread. Flowers had to LEARN that bugs could do the work. HOW do they get a bug to do their work, they BECAME pretty. They changed themselves to be pretty to attract bugs to do all the work. They developed smells to attract bugs. How many of us can just change the way we smell by willing it?

Trees... also have this same dilemma. How to transfer seed. They FIGURED it out... Make their seeds, yummy and cover them with sugar. Oranges, lemons, cherries, apples, pears, etc. And make animals eat their yummy fruit. Then it would pass through the animal and be shat out the other side and left in a pile of perfectly fertilized soil to let their seed take root. THEY had to make a seed that wouldn't digest in the tummies of animals and something that would cover the seed to make it edible. That, my friends is a lot of knowledge. How many of us know the ph levels of a bear's stomach?

Grape vines.. seek out structure to grow on. They some how can SEE where there is something to grow on and grow TOWARDS that structure. ( and their fruit is yummy too )

It would seem that nature is smarter than we thought. It gets no formal education but yet, it kicks are ass in common sense everyday. Remember what I said before about how we will never destroy this planet, only our existence on it? Well, take that into consideration when you need a good reality check. We are the idiots of this planet. Our thumbs, art and SUV's are nothing when you think about what plants do with no information whatsoever.

How many parents would let an animal eat their seed and shit it out, just to guarantee it's survival?

NOW that would be a graduation ceremony.

huey Lewis knows the news

Update America!
The FEDERAL government was handed a victory in their fight against terrorism, over populated prisons, minor crime arrests, policeman safety, political corruption, drug addiction, land use, unemployment, despair, guilt and pleasure. The FEDS finally handed down their wisdom in regards to marijuana. It has come to pass... Marijuana use, no matter what it's for, is forever illegal. This includes medical uses, research or recreation. NO MO! Put down the pipes! Let the unbearable pain overcome you and succumb to ignorance. The FEDS say you have to suffer because your little plant is "addictive and part of the overall problem with america".

Yes, marijuana is the root of all evil. It could be, how often do any of us see the root of a marijuana plant?

It would seem that the good people of america are under fire from the evils of marijuana. That evil weed is making zombies of good hard working folk and making good white women suck off big dicked black men and this is bad. Bad because there are big dicked white men that don't have a drug that make them sexy.

I am not going to state case evidence for or against marijuana. I just want to address the logic, so don't get your hopes up about this being a pro drug rant. I could care less. I don't smoke marijuana, but I don't care if you do. That's my position, actually, that's everyone's opinion on this issue.

Issue number one for the illegalization for marijuana..

It's highly addictive.

Yes, so is cocaine, opiate based drugs such as morphine, codeine and heroin, oxycotin (rush limbaugh's favorite flavor of drug) and various other legal drugs including nasal spray. Yes, nasal spray. All of these drugs are legal to prescribe by an american doctor. I guess they are NOT as addictive as marijuana.

It's a dangerous drug that has contributed to crime, early death and other harder addictions.

I am as confused as you are. Early death. But, a painless one. ANY thing in your house that is taken inappropriately can kill you. Booze, aspirin, food, ashes, paper, ink, freon from the refridgerator, laundry soap. They can all kill you whenever you are ready or if you are just careless and irresponsible. Anything can kill you.

The only crime it contributes to is possession of marijuana, selling of marijuana, using marijuana and being under the influence of marijuana. All of which are now felonies. Three convictions here, and it's life in prison. For marijuana.

It aides in the crime rate.

Yes it does, and wouldn't that be a blessing if it didn't. I can't imagine what life would be like if we didn't have to spend so much money on housing, feeding, prosecuting, reforming, counseling and catching all those weed freaks... I don't know... perhaps spend all that money on education... (not that anyone really wants smart children, their kids are smart enough on their own, fuck teachers, what do they know about kids...)

So those are the arguments to keep it illegal. And it won.

For those who want it legal. Good for you. The system is designed to prevent you from winning that argument, but in a slight case of revenge, we can fuck their wives and allow their daughters to listen to rap music and get their clits pierced. We can sell them marijuana and make sure their hypocrisy is duly noted. If they want this world to be the fear factory they think it is, then don't let them run away from it, bring it to them. Show them that their worst fears are coming true. Frighten them in their dull lives and sears clothing. Give them mental and emotional scars that will never heal. Fighting them over morality issues or legal issues or merit issues doesn't work, because they don't know what you are talking about. Remember, they make a lot of money on that prison. A lot of money on that police force and it guarantees that they stay in charge.

Weed, is the root of all evil. SO SMOKE UP JOHNNY!!!!!

run on question

My father died about 6 years ago, he died suddenly and there was really no time to say goodbye or hear any last minute secrets. I was there when he passed away, I was there when he spoke his last word, and I was there to watch him slip into unconscienceness for the last time. I saw his eyes close for the last time and they didn't open until he was dead and nature opened them to freak me out.

My brother, who was trying to fly in at the last moment, didn't make it in time to say goodbye, didn't see for the last time and was furious that he missed his last chance. I had my own grief to think about, but I can't imagine what his must have been like.

A week before my father died, he was fine. Surviving some treatments and making plans for the summer. He had a few more weeks of treatment then he was out of the hospital and home for the rest and other life. Then, for no reason, he sprang a leak in his head and started to die. Everyone jumped into action and phone calls were made. No one said he was dying, but it was understood and those who wanted to be here needed to get here. He was in a coma for a day and a half, then, without saying anything to anyone. He just died.

When you know cancer is going to do you in, you have a choice. You can succumb to immense amounts of pain and die slowly. Or you can take large doses of morphine and slip away, silently. I opted for morphine and my father died as high as any junkie could ever hope to be. If you are wondering, yes, that's right, the doctors helped him ease his pain and aided in his death. They do it every day and they are praised for it. Dr. Kevorkian was sent up the river as an example, and he wastes away to appease someone... i'm not sure who.

My father lived a mysterious life, clouded in strange stories and hidden facts. There is great speculation about his criminal past and his financial history...

NOTE, I should point out that I have two fathers. Yes, two and I am sure you are all going to run with this one. One father was a dark, mysterious soul. The other father is alive and well and is actually the antithesis of the other. He is light and calm, more stable and kind.... It was an odd childhood. Again, take that and run.

So when my father died, he left a lot of questions. A lot of them. He owned an odd collection of toys, books and other odds and ends that were very much a part of who he was a person. He had married a woman a few years earlier that I went to high school with and with whom, no one really liked. His business, what ever it was at that time, was left undone, we think. There was a lot of loose ends to his life, and for a man consumed with organized paperwork and numbers, he left no word on what to do with anything after he died. No funeral ideas, no requests, no will.... that anyone saw anyway.

He died so suddenly that no questions were really raised. His widow, not the brightest person, became very selfish and it was all about her pain. The three children, two ex wives and four life long friends were all left to bow to her will, because my father had not left one of his own. He was an outspoken writer in an indy newspaper and was a well known rabble rouser of dissention. He was not a fan of religion or funerals, or tombstones, so it came as a great shock to all of us who knew him when his service was held in a church, and there was a tree in the church yard to comemorate him.

No answers.

And that's what happens. People die and we are left with questions that we will never get answered. Their death creates tiny little mysteries that get in the way and make it harder to grieve. The closer you are to the person, the harder it is to get it straight in your head. You are incredibly sad, it's overwhelming and you truly feel there is no recovering from this. No sleep, no appetite, no words of comfort and nothing that this world has ever offered you can comfort your weary soul. Only time will heal this wound and time is crawling by! People reach out and they all seem to blend together, "i'm here for you", "eat something", "when ever you're ready", "get back on the horse", "take some time off", "drink"... a symphony of sympathy that tears apart your feelings. But, every quiet moment has to be filled with something or you lose your mind as you don't seem to have control over it now. It is driving itself and that just makes matters worse.

Loss is what it is. You have lost someone close to you and all that came with it. You have lost the resource for the answers to questions you have taken for granted and did no ask until it was too late. There is just loss. Loss of control, loss of ideas and loss of hope. You could just die from the mountain of despair that just landed on you.... you just don't feel like you're gonna win. Loss is what... it... is.

And, sadly, you won't win. There is no happy ending in someone dying suddenly. They leave and the questions and comments that you have been sitting on are worthless now. Anger is unleashed and the selfish need fuels the fire. There is no one with an answer and there is no one around to shake violently.

Time will pass and the sleep returns and so does the appetite. Eventually the little things that made you enjoy life find their value again and you ease back into things. The questions never go away, you just learn to live with them and, for a brief moment, you remember to tell everyone everything you have ever wanted to say. You really think you will.

After six years have passed, all I think about now is the occasional memory or two and how my father's death brought my mother, brother and I together. He finally did something right in his life. He died. He showed us that there was a family out there that was stubborn and if they maintained that, they would all die alone, with more questions than answers.

I had hours in my car, driving from gig to gig, to think about him and talk to him. In the end, I accepted that I will never know more than I experienced. I don't even hate his widow. She did spread his ashes the way he wanted, of course, it took her a year. The bold statements she made were part of the whole mess and I don't fault her for that either. I fault her for setting fire to all of stuff and making sure none of his children had anything to remember him by. Isn't life funny?

Loss is what it is...... loss... is.... what... it... is.

valley

Alright, the rain is falling and the winds are down. There are many different varieties of summer days, but this one is my favorite. There is the too hot, too windy, too bright and the too humid. There are the days that the old people die from. The heat that kills all the plants in the garden and sunburns the leaves on the bushes. There are days that you need pants because you hear it's going to dip down to 80. There are days when the clouds look like they are going to make a serious attempt at killing you. There are ton of colorful days that remind you why you are living where you live in the first place. The quality of whether is usually the first thing we think about when we think of a place to live. Can I take the heat? the cold? the rain? etc. Weather has all the answers and seperates the weak and faint of heart, from the strong.

Today is a grey, rainy sunday. My favorite. You can't work no matter how hard you try. You can barely move. It takes three extra hours just to crawl out of bed. These are great days. Warm drinks make a last gasp appearance and soup sounds good for the first time in a long time and maybe the last time for several months. You must savor the urge.

I have work to do, but rain means it must be inside work, I have a ton of work to finish around the shop before more relatives descend upon the ponderosa, but I have two weeks to get it done. I have a bench to finish that goes next to the strawberry garden for pretentious viewing of strawberry plants. I see it as an easy target area for mosquitoes to use for meal time. I have some walls that need repairing on the inside of the shop that I have put off finishing until now. I have bathroom issues as the water has slowly taken some of the wood in the floor to task and is winning the "attention now" award. I have another shed to tear down and another set of storage shelves to build for garden gear. I am booked up!

So, Heidi and I are going hiking today. I love hiking in the rain because I love looking like I earned it. What I mean by that is being soaked head to toe makes the hike look longer, harder and much sexier, which should be beneficial should I happen upon a group of lustful, wanton young pixies that would like to dance around a bit.

The trees of the valley are full of life. All the fruit trees are just puting out their stock and the birds are working as hard as they can to rid them of it, but trees always seem to win. The pines always smell healthy and with as many of them living in the valley, their powerful aroma dominates everything else around. The sounds of the river are more pronounced, even beyond the drops of rain on the leaves and rocks. Mountain rivers always look like the cleanest water in the world and that gives you, the hiker, a sense of being as close to the source as you can be. What that means, I don't know. But it's something you feel out in nature.

There is nothing but shadows to walk among. There is no trail to follow and there in no half way point. You just walk into the woods and hope that your sense of direction takes you home, or to someone's home that has a phone. You walk into the trees and it's over fallen limbs, around large rocks, under this and over that. It's slow moving and you may not impress yourself with how far you make it, but when find where you are going, you know it was worth the trip.

I usually find the top of a mountain to be the best, however, I have found meadows, strange rock formations and abandoned cabins to be pretty fulfilling as well. There is great sense of youth when you find it. Like it's a great toy or prize. You enjoy the space and claim it as yours. You will never tell a soul where this is and one day... you will live here. That's what it feels like anyway.

Heidi may not make the hike, she isn't as young as she used to be and an hour is about all the time she has inside her these days. It's good to have her and you can see it's good for her spirits, but this is a younger man's game and major obstacles like climbing into the truck or jumping off the two foot porch are hard for her now. Hilarious to watch, but not easy to accept. I like having her on hikes because she finds every dead thing within fifty yards of my trek and brings it over to show me. I think she wants me to it and when I pass, she thinks, "do you mind if I do?"

Rain enhances the color of the forest and makes the smells stronger. The bugs are gone, for the most part and it makes for comfortable hiking. Until you find a rock or log that you have to cross and it is just begging you to step on it so it can send you slipping to your death. I have found that the slickest rocks are next to cliffs. If you fall and die, they never find you. Then you become a great local mystery and Dateline comes to do a story about it. You must be cautious. Outside attention like that would ruin the untouched beauty of this place and then everyone would find your body just so they could pee on it.

After the walk, it's home to peal off clothes, have tea or coffee, enjoy some soup, read, watch a movie and "have some time with myself". Which I don't recommend out on the hike. It's not as easy as you think to do. If you found an interesting stick that you used to walk with and swore you would always use as a walking stick, you have to store it away now so it will lose it's value and get thrown away later. Your clothes come off and get a wash or a lay out to dry, both of which feel good. From warm to wet, and from wet to warm. That is a good day in the forgottens. The plants get their much needed drink. I get a comfy hike and Heidi gets to pretend that she's a spry little puppy for an hour or two. The secrets of the forgottens are shared with another and their promise to never share that secret is tested as he sits down to a computer and writes it all down for the angry mob to read.

jayhawk slaves

Oh my friends, Kansas is in trouble. The state has actually been fighting over whether or not to teach creationism over evolution. For those of you who are not familiar with creationism that is the belief that the world was created by god as it is written in the bible. Yes, the people of Kansas are at it again and are putting up a good fight.

I hope the creationists win. I want them to be that stupid and gullible, you know why? I want slaves. I want there to be some people that are so ridiculously stupid that I can have some of them as slaves. If you think I am being outrageous, the bible says I can have them. That's right, I can have slaves cause Jesus died for my right to have them.

So, get to it Kansas. I have some serious work that needs finishing around my house. I have some target practice I need to get to before hunting season and I need someone to shag my golf balls before I go to the range. Hurry up!

Now, if Kansas actually gets the creationism passed, there will be no college in America that will accept them that isn't faith based, (oral roberts, brigham young, etc) The students there, who have no choice in the matter, and may not be christian and have alternate theological opinions on what the creation of the word is based on, will have to be subjected to something completely foreign to them.

Somewhere, I don't remember where, it is written that there needs to be a division of church and state. It's not to protect the church from the state but to protect the state from the church. I don't remember where I saw this, but it's somewhere around here. When the church can forces it's will upon people that are not interested in it or don't accept it, then that is called fascism. You will do as I say, and there shall be no compromise or dissent. That, my dear reader is a baaaaad thing.

It won't stop with religion in schools. If they win this battle, the stepping stone will be in place for other areas of influence. Business, entertainment, socially acceptable behavior, the legal system. It's not enough that we can't buy booze on sundays, show tits on television or run naked down the street. It's not enough that we have to swear to tell the truth on a bible in court. There has to be more. There has to be television stations will only god programming. There has to be god radio, god summer camps, god dances, god singles meet and greats, god restaurants, god meals and there even has to be more god house decorations. There just has to be more. Because if it's one thing god tells us in the bible over and over, it's not to be humble in any way. God hates it when we are passive and selfless. God hates the soul that chooses to pray in silence and turns the other cheek. In fact, god likes the soul that uses his name to subject others to injustice, persecution and judgment.

So go, Kansas, go! God loves those who take his commandments and twist them around for their own gain. In fact, if you read your bibly bible, you'll see that he has constantly blessed those who do that.

Final thought, Beware of the wolf in sheep's clothing. How do you know you have the right person educating you about what you believe in?

he's so smart

The number of people I know with children is growing. I can remember a time in my life when only one or two people I knew had children and the rest didn't want any. Now, everyone has one. It's a virus or something.

I have stated my aversion to children before, but there are times when they can be quite a bit of fun. The best part about children is knowing that this time spent together is short and WILL end. Not so for parents.

So I am not as taken back when people I meet say they have one or two or three. What I am taken back by now is how many of them feel they have the smartest, best looking children of all time. I don't know what it is that makes them feel this way, and it's getting old to listen too. I think we need to set some standards here so that all you parents out there can determine once and for all if you have birthed a genius.

One. If the child is so smart, send them to the store alone and buy all the groceries for the week for the entire family. The logistics alone would make that doll of yours a true mensa monster if they got it right. They have to get there, fend off danger, select food off the shelves, price and budget correctly, check out, not over spend, and then transport back all the goods. If the child doesn't make it or ends up buying (or stealing) a candy bar and some laffy taffy, then you have a pretty good indication where your baby is on the genius ladder.

Two. Dip them in gasoline and give them a lighter. I think this challenge speaks for itself.

Three. Have them reorganize a room of your house. Again, logistics are a major part of this. Problem solving is a sign of intelligence. I'm sure you have seen the monkeys, rats and mice with that button for food, button for pain experiment. If you haven't, then you're no judge of intelligence and you should withdraw your child from consideration.

Four. Disassemble their favorite video game in front of them. Then time how long it takes for them to put it back together. Either way, you win on this one.

Five. Put them at a piano and play any of mozart's music. Then turn it off and have them play it back.. or as close as they can. The rewards here are priceless.

Six. Have them rewire a room in your house and install a few more outlets. This one is great fun.

Intelligence, dear parents, is not found in your awe. They are supposed to be learning. If you are amazed at what they learn because months before they were eating their own toes, then you are judging them on false pretenses.

What you are really doing when you say your child is smart is being mean. Being selfish. What you are really stating is how relieved you are that your child isn't retarded. You even say how smart your child is with a sigh of relief when you say it. Whew! He isn't a fucking moron. Shame on you.

The great irony here is that most children are months behind in development and stagnant when they get to the walking/talking stages. Parents plop their babies down in front of televisions and videos and they walk away. The child learns about the world from Blues Clues and muppets ( muppets were a big part of my learning experience ). So instead of learning valuable life lessons that will help them cope with the next stages of life, we, as a society, hold them back out of fear and anxiety laden excuses. Parents are so frightened of what might happen to them, what might happen to them if it happened to them or worse, what would just happen in general, that parents raise their children out of the "don't do this, don't do that. No reason, just don't do it because I said so." Watching out for you own ass, good for you....

You're child is truly a genius when it can live life without you at 10. It has basic skills, basic knowledge and can keep itself alive without fast food, television and parental supervision. If he/she can do that, you have, indeed, raised a smart child. If he/she can't, then you are raising your child to be just another retard, like you.

The job of a parent, as I see it, is to raise a child so that it doesn't turn out to be the same fuck up we are. For some reason, every parent limits their child's development to be free of mistakes as if that is what guarantees a perfect future. Parents!! Your child needs bumps and bruises. Needs to get sick. Needs to put things in it's mouth that will hurt it and needs exposure to disease. Your job is to then teach your child how to learn, deal with and live past the experience. That way it doesn't become 18 and set out on the world, to do everything I listed above, without you.

Note... if they were ugly kids.... you wouldn't feed it. OF COURSE it's beautiful!

Some questions for you... how many of you are exact opposites of your parents? Their values? How many of you stand in direct opposition of their dreams and goals for you? How many of you feel you are more sexual active then your parents ever were? More perverted? More evil? Nicer? How many of you did everything your parents told you to do? What makes you think your child will do everything you tell it?

FINAL THOUGHT..

THE FIRST STAGE OF LEARNING IN A CHILD IS MANIPULATION. THEY KNOW IF THEY CRY, YOU WILL DO WHAT THEY ASK. THIS SKILL LIVES WITH THEM FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIFE.

LAST QUESTION.

HOW OFTEN DOES YOUR CHILD WIN THE BATTLES WITH YOU?

geneva, geneva

The present Attorney General had a more colorful job before he took over as the number one law man in America. Yes, Mr. Gonzales was an advisor to President Bush before he moved on. During his stay as "advisor", Mr. Gonzales signed to memos that stated that, "the Geneva convention rules do not apply to America's present situation regarding prisoners of war". This memo also goes on to redefine torture. In the memo, it can only be called torture if the prisoner dies or has serious organ damage. Everything up to that, is okay. Mr. Gonzales signed off on it, he is one degree of separation from the president and his cabinet.

The prison in Cuba that has an one way door installed on it, was recently labeled by amnesty International as one of the worst prisons in the history of mankind and it was a modern day Gulag. For those of you who don't know, Gulag is a bad prison in Russia. Very bad.

Upon hearing the news that his baby was looked upon unfavorably, Defense secretary Rumsfeld, said it was not a Gulag and that it was offensive to say so. Stating that our country is the most kind and decent country in the world and has offered peace to all countries in times of need. What that has to do with our treatment of prisoners is beyond me. But anyway, he was mad. So it made the president mad, because he knows to follow other's leads. So, the president got mad, didn't say why, but he knew he was mad.

The Geneva convention is over 70 years old. If you don't know what it is, let me tell you...

A bunch of nations survived world war one and saw massive destruction not only to the soldiers, but the landscape. In order to maintain value in the soil that wars were to be fought on, these countries came up with rules of warfare. Mostly sane rules; no chemicals, no cheating, no hiding, no mistreating the ones that give up, etc. The rules went into effect and the world signed off on it. Even Hitler followed the rules... somewhat. He did. And every war since has mildly followed the rules. But the rules regarding prisoners of war have said many an American from seeing the end of his/her life on foreign soil. You could say that the Geneva convention made it possible for many people in this world to be here. Good idea for some of you.

America has not always been good at holding the president accountable and recently, one of the greatest mysteries of American politics came to a close when Deep Throat revealed himself to the world. He was responsible for blowing the whistle and showing the world that the executive Branch of Government can be abusive and needs to be watched. Deep Throat brought down a president and showed Americans that politicians can be shady and mean. You would think that that lesson would resonate loudly today. How more obvious is the abuse of power of this present administration or the last? hmmmm...

We did learn something from Deep Throat. It's not the abuse of power, it's not the scandal. It's the control of the media that is important. The reason no one sees what's going on today is because the present administration has a firm grip on media relations and information sharing. The first such control in the history of the American Presidency. They don't want you to know what's going on. Why? Homeland Security issues... please move along.

30 people have died in our custody since the war began. That's pretty amazing by prison standards, considering that you don't see 30 killings in 3 years at the worst prison systems in America, and those guys are pros. AND, the killings have all been from abuse by the guards!!! Again, Mr. Rumsfeld says, "don't let the actions of a few bad seeds determine your opinion of the whole system". Rummy forgets the greatest tenet of the military, the chain of command. NO matter what happens, the person at the helm takes the fall. That's the way it works, unless you work for the present administration. It used to be that if a soldier committed a grievous act, this commanding officer paid the price and was penalized as well. Now, it's every soldier for himself. I don't know if any soldiers read this but remember this, IF you are asked to kill someone in the name of your country, it could come back to haunt you when the country takes some heat for what you have done and needs someone to blame it on. If I were you, I wouldn't listen to a word anyone said. You're being used.

Mr. Gonzales is now the Attorney General, which guarantees that there will be no criminal action taken against the present admininstration for war crimes, or any other kind of crimes. When I think of the present administration I see this in my head...

I see the men (I have my doubts about Condi Rice) all sitting around a small table, smoking, counting money that is stacked up in large boxes all around them with "oil" stamped on them. Bush is on the floor, playing with a toy car, spinning in a circle and making VROOM noises. Someone opens a door and says, "They found out about the Prison thing". There's a chuckle and someone says, "Hey! Someone nab another kid and make it messy, we need at least two weeks out of this one!" The man at the door smiles and walks out. The rest of the table continues to count cash. One of them looks up and says, "we need some more money, what can we do?" Another voice in the dark, "How about a new health risk, or a new virus. Those work pretty well for fund raising". Condi rice, "I think it's easier if we stop buying so much and just keep the money." First voice, "what can we cut that we haven't already?" Rice, "how about the military?" First voice, "genius. pure genius. And ironic, we run on a stronger country platform and then we cut the military and keep the cash for something else... like, like uh.." They all say in unison, "HOMELAND SECURITY!" Perfect. No oversight and no legal parameters.

They stay rich, the world validates their opinions of us by watching us get rich while they suffer at our hands, and the administration tells the people of the US, we are doing it all for a stronger America. Genius.

I may be on a plane to Cuba tonight!