Category: Information

The Place Dream

I was attempting to firm up my understanding. Little was coming.

In my twenties, I’d made it to the place, but didn’t know the place’s purpose. Located on a busy street, the place was an innocuous building with rooms and offices. It could have been a school or business. Others of my age were there, and a staff gave vague instructions. Reticent and withdrawn as I always am, I found an office, sat down and waited.

This rough sequence repeated a few times. People warmed to me, and I, to they, through the sequence, but I still had no idea what the place was, or my role. But a taller, bigger, gregarious person decided he liked me, and started letting me go with him when he did things. He seemed to have a greater position than most.

At each day’s end, we would leave the building and then board one of two buses. I didn’t know the difference between the two buses or which I should ride. Everyone else seemed to know. I would ask, but I never understood the answer. I tried to stay with my big buddy. Riding a bus, I would look around, mostly interested in the other bus, to see if it went somewhere different.

When the bus stopped, they’d call something out, and I’d know to get off. When I did, I’d be back at the place.

I grew comfortable with the routine, although I didn’t understand it. Not understanding it, though comfortable, I kept looking for more information. I asked others questions about what we were supposed to be doing. Smiles were mostly given in answers, sometimes with vague statements like, “Oh, you’ll know,” or, “You’ll find out.”

Came a time when a female supervisor came in and spoke with us as my buddy and I sat in an office. I don’t know what was being discussed; it seemed like a foreign language.  As she spoke, she gave me a small silver container and a package of matches. The small silver container, the size of a tea candle, had silver, waxy material in it, but no wick. Confused about whether it was a candle and I was supposed to lit it, or that it was something for my consumption, I puzzled over it and the matches as the woman spoke.

Others came in, looking for me. They had news about what my big friend was planning to do. I went to his office. He wasn’t there. Two objects were there. I studied them. They were red and white missiles on rails. I understood what they were. Rumors were circulating that he intended to launch them in test, to see if they would work correctly and explode. Worrying that he might be planning to do that in his office, I sought him out.

We talked. He explained with a dry chuckle that he was awaiting a test location. No, it would be safe. No one else would be there. He was trying to reassure me but he wasn’t answering all of my questions.

The woman came in and gave me another silver container and matches. The match book was closed, but one match was stuck out, as though it was there to be used. I remained unsure. I feared that if I lit it, the silver stuff would explode.

It was time to leave. I went out with the rest to catch a bus. I didn’t see my big friend. Everyone else boarded a bus while I debated about which to take.

The buses left without me. After a moment of concern, I shrugged it off and started walking. I knew where the buses were going and could walk there.

I passed the buses as I walked. People on the bus came to the windows. I heard them saying, “Look, he’s walking faster than the bus.” It was true. As they said that, everyone came to the buses’ windows to see me passing the bus. That inspired me to walk faster, determined to beat them to the destination.

The road narrowed and grew dark, the first time that it was dark in the entire dream. I found I was walking upside down. “Look,” the people on the bus said, “he’s walking upside-down. He’s walking on the ceiling.” They sounded amazed and envious.

The ceiling became dirty and thick with roots. It was like I was underground, with the road and the buses beneath me. I fell off the ceiling, but picked myself up and continued walking, right-side-up. Then, I was walking on the ceiling again. I was determined that would not stop me. I learned that whenever I discovered I was walking on the ceiling, I could rotate it, and it would be the proper orientation and surface.

I continued walking. I beat the buses to the place. Dirty and sweaty, I went inside. Sitting at a desk, I listened to the woman talking. She brought me the silver thing and the matches.

I tasted the silver thing to see if it was edible, and awoke.

 

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The Fake News Poll

Have you seen the poll results about fake news in America? Forty-six percent of Americans believe the news media make up news stories about the Trump administration.

Who is surprised?

I believe the news media make up stories, but not about Trump. I believe that other stories have been made up and posted as real news. That set up the meme that the news media can’t be trusted, a position that President Con Don pushes.

Let’s count some of those fake stories. Remember those birther stories about President Obama? They were demonstrably fake stories that right wing media sites continued circulating for years.

Just today, several right wing news sites made up and spread a story about an immigrant starting the California wildfires that swept through NorCal.

How often was Hillary Clinton mocked as “Killary” because of all the people she and Bill were said to have killed? Fifty people, according to some sites, although none of those deaths have been proven in court.

What about Pizzagate?

Remember Jade Helm 15, and the Federal government’s plot to invade Texas and other states?

Many media sites ran with Con Don’s insistence that he won the popular election, enough that people believe him, even though he later asserts that he didn’t win the popular election because of rampant illegal voting in California, and that his inauguration crowd was larger than President Obama’s crowd?

Without effort, I can go back and remember more. What of Judith Miller and the Iraqi WMD, and Nigeria yellow cake? How about the FEMA death camps? Shall we talk about climate change denial? Con Don even lied about his statements on Charlottesville, and though they were broadcast that day, and shown repeatedly, people believe that news was fabricated. Hell, they’re giving him credit for the jobless rates declining, and the improved economy, without being able to cite anything he’s done for either one, and without acknowledging that those are continued trends that started years ago, under President Obama.

None of this news. Spinning news to dirty a candidate isn’t new, either. Nor does it belong to America. Much of the derogatory opinions about Jews, Muslims, and just about anyone who isn’t a white male, can be traced back to unproven or twisted whispering and news campaigns.

No, I’m not surprised that people think news is being made up about Trump. He makes up a lot of it himself, then feeds it to the media, and some of them blindly run with it.

It’s part of a great heritage.

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The Urge

You ever overhear someone talking, passing along erroneous information, and develop an itch to stop them and explain, “Excuse me, but, um…that’s not quite correct.”

Yeah, me, neither.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Wow, Thursday already. October, already. The fifth already. Come on, let’s back off the time accelerator. It’s all moving too fast.

Today’s music is “Spooky.” It was originally an instrumental. I once heard the instrumental and thought someone was playing it that way. I later learned that the words had been added after the instrumental was written and performed.

I heard the original version with words, by the Classics IV, in the late nineteen sixties, on my trusty AM/FM clock radio. But I awoke with the A.R.S. “Spooky” version looping in my head today, so that’s what I’m posting.

As a sidebar, I wonder what happens in my brain that I awake with songs streaming in my head? I’ve researched this earworm (ohrwurm) or brain itch, as different sources label it, and found that researchers believe ninety-eight to ninety-nine percent of people endure earworms. A two thousand three news article cited a study found which songs afflict most people:

He found that some 98 percent of listeners were at one time or another bothered by a tune that wouldn’t leave their heads. The study also found some common offenders, including the Kit-Kat jingle (“Gimme a break”), “Who Let the Dogs Out,” Queen’s “We Will Rock You,” the theme to “Mission: Impossible,” “YMCA,” “Whoomp, There It Is,” “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” and “It’s a Small World After All.”

The study also showed that musicians and those with compulsive tendencies are the most afflicted. The two are not necessarily mutually exclusive, though the act of repetition — in popular songs on the radio and on the rehearsal floor for musicians — plays a role.

The 559 students used in the study had lots of trouble with the Chili’s jingle for its baby-back ribs and with the Baha Men song “Who Let the Dogs Out. ” But Kellaris found that most often, each person tends to be haunted by their demon notes.

Compulsive tendencies? Moi? Perish the suggestion. I guess I’m fortunate that my ohrwurms rotate and offer a variety.

 

 

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Right, Right

I’m starting out crabby this morning. I haven’t had my coffee.

I just read an article about California’s right-to-die law. Before that, I read about fake news, sometimes called alt-news, and its spread after the Vegas murders of fifty-nine people at a concert. Before it, I read about the surge in gun sales and the rise in gun-manufacturers’ stock prices. Sales and stock prices go up because people fear that gun controls will be implemented.

The echoes of past debates about all this gains volume as new arguments. America enjoys the satisfaction of having the right to own guns. Americans have enough private weapons to provide eighty-eight of one hundred people with a weapon. But we know it’s not all of us who want to be able to shoot and kill other creatures.

That’s what’s interesting about the juxtaposition of these three stories. People, even with terminal conditions and in terrible pain, are often not afforded the right to kill themselves. It’s not their right. Our government owns that right. In a few places, it’s delegated to bureaucratic processes, but it’s mostly considered a no-no. Your life is too valuable for you to have that control. We’re going to make you hang on until your last breath.

But then, we have the weapons that can fire ten rounds a second, as the killer did in Vegas, or twenty-four rounds in ten seconds, as the Orlando killer did. And that’s your right to own. You don’t have the right to kill, unless you feel threatened, and your state has a defend-your-ground law. The interpretation of that has law has gotten broad. Police officers also have broad latitude, killing others if they feel threatened for themselves or the public. Wounding is less often an option. So here, the right to kill is widely distributed, for a variety of reasons. These reasons seem to trump the sanctity of life.

The last story was about freedom of the press, and the difficulty of coping with the spread of lies, known as false news, fake news, or alternate news, instead of being called bullshit, and lies, as it should be, because, well, rights. People fear that if we start calling bullshit on these things, then bullshit will occur. And as we dither about what to do, what to do, bullshit happens. With that bullshit, we struggle against tides of fears, change, doubt. Then the echoes of debate fade, until the next time.

Enough of this. I’m going to get my coffee and go read about the people complaining about athletes exercising their to protest during the propaganda portion of our sports events called playing the national anthem.

That’s not why wars were fought and soldiers gave their lives, you know. How dare people be so disrespect of their lives?

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I Believe

A majority of them believe that whites suffer the most discrimination in America. They believe that Christians suffer the most persecution. They believe that Mexicans are rapists and killers, and Obamacare is destroying the economy and eroding freedom. They believe the mainstream press is spreading false news against Trump. Some believe that former President Obama is running a shadow government. Or it might be Hillary, who they call Killary, because they believe she has had so many people killed. They believe that Congress passed an act that awarded veterans of the CSA the same status as US war veterans. They miss the part of the amendment where it states, “For the purpose of this section,” which was about paying pensions, and nothing more. They believe Planned Parenthood was harvesting babies, and that all that Planned Parenthood does is abortions. They believe that a wall will protect them and Trump will save the country.

They are Trump supporters. All those things that they say they believe in interviews, social media posts, and through polls, have been established as false. They believe that the science that predicted the eclipse and its path is being faked when it comes to global warming. It’s part of a huge conspiracy to destroy the United States.

They believe he’s “draining the swamp”

I believe they’ll continue believing these myths and lies. They’ll believe we, the critics, are undermining the POTUS with our criticism. They’ll believe it’s treasonous, that the critics, like me, are liars and obstructionists, as he claims, even though they had no qualms about accusing President Obama of being born elsewhere or hating America. They don’t see the hypocrisy. Hypocrisy and irony often escapes them.

They’ll believe protesters must be shut up, for the good of the nation. They believe that the protesters against the current administration are poor losers. They don’t see the irony in their protests to keep the monuments to the war they lost, the war they fought to keep others enslaved. Because there, too, they have convinced themselves that the rebels who seceded from the Union were heroes defending America and the Constitution. They’ve convinced themselves, it was not about slavery.

They’ll believe that it’ll be for the greater good of the nation to build camps and imprison or restrict “trouble-makers.” They’ll be convinced that this is part of protecting free speech. They’ll believe that the prisoners are treated well, but even so, they deserve to be locked up. It’s their own fault. Why are they protesting these laws if they’ve done nothing wrong?

They’ll believe that if the press stops spreading the myth of climate-change and global-warming, we’ll no longer see the effects, because that was all made-up and exaggerated by the lying press (or Democrats, or scientists). They’ll believe it until the waters are rushing in through their doors.

And when, finally, the truth comes to them because the shit’s hitting them in the face, and they’re standing in the cratered ruins, they’ll say, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know what was going on in those camps. I didn’t know that all this was going on. How could we know? We trusted our leader. He was the government, and we trusted him. How could we know that he was lying?

“How could we know?”

We heard the same thing from Germans after World War II. “How could we know?”

We heard the same thing when Dubya started the war in Iraq. “How could we know?” Many of them still believe that Dubya protected America from terrorism, that the attacks of 9/11 were to be blamed on someone else, no matter when it happened. When, eventually, the results of the WMD Inspections came out, when Dubya finally came out and said, “No, Suddam Hussein had nothing to do with 9/11,” they said, “How could we know? He fooled us all.”

No. He did not fool us all.

That’s what I believe.

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Future Uncertainty

Steve Bannon faces some future uncertainty. Comments by the POTUS caused the uncertainty.

I feel for Mr. Bannon. His dire situation prompts me to confess: I, too, face an uncertain future.

I’ve been uncertain about whether to go public with my future uncertainty, but my uncertainty has been mounting. I’m so uncertain about my future, I’m not certain what I’ll have for lunch, or whether I’ll have a beer tonight. I’m also uncertain about the source of pain in my head. I’m uncertain about whether the current W.H. occupant will start a nuclear war or another American Civil War.

I know that I’m not alone in my future uncertainties. People are uncertain if they can find something to eat today or a safe place to sleep. They’re uncertain that they can survive another day of pain. Black Americans are often uncertain whether they’ll survive a traffic stop. Police officers are often uncertain what people are reaching for, and whether toy guns are real. Some Americans are uncertain about whether their drinking water is safe, or if they’ll be employed at the end of the day, tomorrow, next week, or next month. Others are uncertain about where they’ll get the funds to pay for the medications they need. More are uncertain about their symptoms, and whether these symptoms are the first signs of a disease progressing in them, aging, or a minor, or temporary, ailment. Others are uncertain about what’s going to happen on “Game of Thrones,” who will win the World Series, and if the Patriots will win the Superbowl again. Apple’s new products cause many people great uncertainty. People flying on United Airlines are uncertain about the status of their flights, and why United can deny them a seat of they bought a ticket and were issued a boarding pass.

Uncertainty isn’t exclusive to America. Many people in the world are uncertain about the impact of pollution, what America will do next, or if America’s President is insane. Others are uncertain about the effects of Brexit, what to do about multiple wars and refugees, terrorism, and climate change.

So, I feel for Mr. Bannon. His future in the White House is uncertain.

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Major Eclipse Sponsors Announcement

As rumored on the Internet for the last several days, the United States National 2017 Eclipse Steering Commitment has announced that Doritos has been selected as the official sponsor of the 2017 American Eclipse. The eclipse is now officially known as The Doritos Great American Eclipse of 2017.

In other eclipse related news, Mountain Dew is the official soft drink of the DGAE 2017. Budweiser has been selected as the official beer, and Nike is the official shoe. Rumors are circulating that Pepsi will issue a commemorative eclipse can.

Pre-eclipse entertainment venues and entertainers were also announced. Among other performers, Pink Floyd has agreed to open festivities in Depoe Bay, Oregon, with a videocast of “Eclipse” when the eclipse begins. Britney Spears will play in St. Louis, Missouri, and Shania Twain will perform at Clemson in South Carolina. Pharrell will perform a Michael Jackson song and moon-dance. Van Morrison will sing “Moon Dance,” and Bonnie Tyler is expected to perform “Total Eclipse of the Heart.”

WalMart has announced a spectacular Black Monday sale in conjunction with the eclipse. Prices will be slashed in half during the totality.

The Doritos Great American Eclipse of 2017 officials remind everyone to practice safe observing during the eclipse. Officials are also urging everyone to avoid taking selfies of themselves with the sun during the eclipse.

In other eclipse news, President Trump has denounced the eclipse as fake science via Twitter, and urges all Americans to ignore the stories in Lame Stream Media about the eclipse.

That is all.

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Eclipse Guidelines

Jim, one of my fellow SOBs and BOBs (Sons of BOBs, and Brains on Beer, respectively), came up with these helpful Eclipse Guidelines. I thought they hold some important points, so I share them with the rest of the world. Cheers

I wish to alert you that there may be an eclipse planned for next week.

On Aug. 21, the United States, having won a bidding war against Qatar for the rights, will host a total solar eclipse. To help you get maximum enjoyment from this rare celestial event with minimal injury or death, here’s an eclipse Q&A:
Q. What causes a total eclipse to happen?
A. The best way to understand it is to imagine that the Earth is a cantaloupe, and the moon is a grape. The grape travels in a circular path (technically called a “trajectory”) around the cantaloupe, while at the same time the cantaloupe travels around a flaming basketball representing the sun. Once in a great while, the grape reaches a certain point (the “hypotenuse”) that causes it to cast an unusually harsh shadow (the “penumbra”) and the resulting reduction in temperature extinguishes the basketball, thus plunging the cantaloupe into total darkness.
Q. So you’re saying that during an eclipse the sun actually goes out?
A. Only for a few minutes. It usually comes back.
Q. What if it rains on Aug. 21?
A. The eclipse will be held the following Monday.
Q. What if the Russians hack the eclipse?
A. Trump has already prepared a strong retaliatory tweet containing, according to a White House source, “very few punctuation errors.”
Q. How can I tell if I am in the path of the eclipse?
A. Look outside. If you see strangers parked on your lawn, you are in the path.
Q. What will I experience during the eclipse?
A. It will get dark.
Q. Seriously?
A. Yes.
Q. That’s IT? Where I live that happens every night.
A. Perhaps so, but in an eclipse, after it gets dark, it — prepare for some celestial excitement — gets light again!
Q. Wow.
A. Yes! Isn’t it amazing?
Q. I was being sarcastic. You’re telling me millions of people are traveling long distances and paying insane hotel rates just to see it get dark?
A. In some areas there will also be wine tastings.
Q. What safety measures should I take when viewing the eclipse?
A. Safety experts strongly recommend that you wear steel-tipped shoes, a hard hat and ear protection. Also you should remain indoors in an uncomfortable crouch until the “all clear” has sounded.
Q. If I remain indoors, how can I view the eclipse?
A. Safety experts do not consider that to be their problem.
Q. Will the eclipse cause any unusual phenomena to occur?
A. Yes. Scientists tell us that during the eclipse UPS trucks will appear to be green, microwave ovens will actually make food colder, and any Starbucks beverage with a name ending in “ino” will spontaneously explode. Also all of the television sets on Earth, even those that are turned off, will simultaneously show the same “My Pillow” commercial. In the natural world, birds will migrate up and down instead of horizontally. Whales will suddenly question whether they really like plankton, or just eat it because it’s available. Certain breeds of dog may develop a primitive sense of sarcasm. Also herds of cattle have been known to spontaneously re-enact the rumble scene from “West Side Story.” All of these phenomena are perfectly normal and nothing to be concerned about, according to top eclipse scientists, who incidentally will be spending Aug. 21 in a mountain bunker in Peru.
Q. What about the religious groups who are claiming that this eclipse will trigger the end of the world?
A. Safety experts note that this is yet another argument for remaining indoors.
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Today’s Theme Music

Joni Mitchell wrote it, and sang it, but I remember the cover by CSN&Y.

The year of nineteen sixty-nine found me a budding thirteen year old rocking hippie wannabe living in a suburb of Pittsburgh, PA. My pants were bell-bottoms, and my thick hair was shoulder-length. My mustache and goatee were coming in without any prodding (Mom thought my face was dirty), and I was drifting toward the counter-culture.

I had some problems, though; can you be counter-culture and madly love cars like the Corvette, Jaguar XK-E, Ford GT, and Cobra, or the Porsche 917s and Ferrari 512s racing at LeMans, and the Can-Am and Formula 1 racers? That seems counter-counter-culture, as does being a Pirates fan and idolizing Roberto Clemente. But then, isn’t what what thirteen is all about, expanding your thoughts about where you’re at, what you’re learning, and where you’re heading?

Besides being my thirteenth year, nineteen sixty-nine is more frequently remembered in America for the Vietnam War, protests against it, President Nixon, the moon landing, “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” “Midnight Cowboy,” “Easy Rider,” “True Grit,” the Miracle Mets, and Woodstock, as in the Woodstock Music & Art Fair. I wasn’t there (at the fair), but I heard a helluva lot about it afterwards. Part of that was because of Joni’s song, so I offer it here to you, to remember or learn of that festival that began on August 15, forty-eight years ago.

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