Friday, March 31, 2017

"No More Mr. Nice Guy"

On the other hand. If I am not elevated to the esteemed position of  "Resident of the United States" as I propose in earlier posts. Perhaps when the Revolution comes,...and goes. I shall present myself as "Comrade Peoples Judge Uncle Syd" for the Southern Judicial District of New York.

After so grand an adventure as the founding of the Revolutionary Second American Republic. There will be no doubt much local "cleansing", and tiding up of borders to do.  After all there is the question of what to do with...Racist sexist cab drivers, and those that don't flush in public crappers subway conductors that slam the damn door in your face. 'Everybody' at the DMV. These will face stern judgment. Stern indeed.

Millennial airhead clerks in shops who when you ask for help with an item just blankly stare into space, and...wait for it. ...say, "...just what's there", and then sink their heads back into their devices...their end shall be particularly bad.

Of course lawyers landlords violent killer cops gangsters bullies the generally annoying such as phony beggars that give the real needy such bad press will face swift, and more that slightly entertaining "Justice" from my steady device-less hands.

Then there's peoples enemies in the extreme. The hard cases. The class enemies that made the peoples revolutions necessary in the first place. These the food, and water poisoning oil spilling nature murdering child starving old folks evicting immigrant deporting war profiteering news distorting butt holes of eternity...Republicans.

I can hardly wait.

They'll all...indeed 'all' offenders will receive Peoples Mercy,...with a twist.

I shall help bring Revolutionary humor to the Law!


"The Madness of Angels"

Beware inking down of your dreams. They'll either end up in some future holy scripture, and or as evidence at your trial. This runs through my mind as I try to make a kind of coherent sense of my dreams of late. Dreams enhanced by the pharmacology of Emerald City health-care.

Long may they dispense.

To the matter. Time is not linear, and space warps. The damned thing stretches contracts , and twists. Like origami on crack whiskey, and pastries.

I mean just ask Niels Bohr...he'll give you an earful.

My nausea simmers my vision jump cuts. My hearing enhanced painfully so. I have never had the pleasure of chemical withdrawal. I'm not sure I recommend it.

However the Dreams.

They in their wonder grotesque horror, and frightful majesty. (...same could be said of the recent "Trek" movies.) All this noise to direct our short battered lives. Blessed are they that have no memory of theirs.

Just emerged from a mist where it was made plain in the vagueness of that realm that no you ain't from here. Neither is your family. Not your line nor the lines of many others. 

Elsewhere, and Else-when.

I wonder if the "Twilight Zone" was not just an entertainment, but a message.

A "Cook Book".

"Not Just".   That, and all the other strange stories wonderings, and essays. These that the "different" keep writing, and putting before our eyes.


Pain for many days. Confusions. That, and my coming here to you. My family my friends all I have in the world. My digital "Hearth, and Home". If done right these platforms of meeting could be such a miracle. It is, but could be so much more. ...just needs a bit more heart, and introspection.

I'm not from here?

Well that would confirm certain oddities from early childhood. Hearing singing as I fell to sleep. Seeing the sky as different colors from what I was told it was. Remembering sight of the Earth from far above, and away. I saw, in dreams?, our cloud covered home as we see it now. I saw it as it really is before there was the evidence of science.

"I'm sorry,...what the fuck is going on?

Not from here.

...Some elsewhere else-when. Now my eyes hurt. Those that have issues know how pain is fluid. It likes to move. It is the ultimate tourist at home. I'm intermittently grateful. This for making me aware. For helping me endure life sharply, and perhaps more respectfully.

My nausea meds seem also intermittent.

Not too much information. I'm sharing the full Monty as pals should.  Soup. Hot soup, and a used DVD. Through the ages these have been known to calm the mad cure the lame, and halt, and just bleeping chill you the bleep out.

Be back soon.

(...About the title. I'm no Angel. No one is. Well not all the time. An Angel as I've found is an act. A verb not a noun. We become Angels of the moment by our works, and example. Pass the butter thanks I have to be careful now.)

Stay Tuned.


"...and all the Meth you can Eat"

Did you know that if you fell through the floor of a news-stand in China at roughly Chengdu. I mean fall all the way down that hole through the core then up the other side.

Did you know if you did all that you'd come busting up out of the floor of a meth lab in Kokomo Indiana. On the up side you didn't go busting out of the ocean say 10,000 feet down.

Still you'd have to deal with them hard ass Indiana Crack Heads.

Stay Tuned.

"Ship's Journal"

(...These all came from a series of dreams.)

'Being the Journal of Mid-Shipman Jamie Pip. Royal Navy Cadet.

HMS Foretina, May 12th, 1903

I stood "Bow Watch" from quarter noon till sundown. Observed, and reported a French steamer on the starboard horizon. Post noon a Spanish "Man 'o War" Ironclad crossed us heading east then turned true north.

Twin rainbows sighted 12 degrees to port. A great storm has skirted us.

...for now.

Most enchanting at dusk a pod of dolphins rode our bow break. How graceful they glided as they sang.

HMS Foretina, May 14th 1903

17 degrees N/NW of the Isle San Isabella de Angelica.
It is a full Moon this night, and the North Star is 'a port. Orion with his three sisters drifts in the sky at our windward.

The Foretina sings.

At night she sings. From her rigging's sails boards comes music. Her timbers groan her bow a soft choir, and oh how cleanly she cleaves the sea.
The ships bell chimes as a call to prayer.

HMS Foretina May 17th, 1903

A new lad came aboard by launch from the port of Isabella. His name Aliabad Wellington. He is kindly in disposition, and comely in appearance. A "Black 'a Moor" he is, and poetic in his speech.
I shall be so forward as to befriend him. Perhaps he will smile upon me if I gift him my slim though precious volume of Sufi poems, and prayers.

The 21st of May 1903,

9 leagues E/NE of Saint George's Atoll.

The gales have caught up with us! We twist within her sharp teeth! The Captain has ordered we sail into the wind. Waves lash the decks The sea looms over us. Fish rain down as "Manna".
Cook says, "...if we ain't pulled to the bottom we'll eat well!

So fearful yet beautiful is this.

The sky a blur of color. Arcs of lightning dance on every horizon. The masts ignited by "Saint Elmo's Fire!"

The bow digs deep yet rises again the rigging makes her strange music. The good "Foretina" yaws hard to port then starboard then again bowing even more deeply.

The eyes of the younger Cadets are wide with terror yet wonder too. So it was for a night, and a day.

Fading...drifting as sand in a wind...

A dream,...all a dream,.....the ship the storm Aliabad faded.


Even myself...gone.

I'm reading a book. One made of linen. It's pages it's leaves flutter. It speaks to me this linen book. Telling not only the written story within, but how it came to be.
How it was cut stitched. How the words were so slowly, and carefully threaded in place.
This book of cloth told me of it's inner life. About the lives, and ways of all the books like her.
Then like the..."Foretina" gone.

I enter another world in mid-sentence.

Friends. Three women friends of which I am one. In dreams you live whole lives in moments. I entered a world with life long friends about me.

I yearned to tell the 'secret' my great, and terrible secret. What for them was a lifetime was for me a moments fancy as I lay asleep in another world.

We sat, and laughed at the folly of the world. A world I was about to leave. Leave, and forget. This world, and my 'momentary' friends will vanish.

Leaving not even dust.

I awaken with the fragments of lives on the tip of my tongue. Fragments which as the moments pass melt away to nothing.


(...Dreams, and visions wondrous, and horrifying. I based my former on air career on them much of my writing, and not a little of my life. Sometimes they are 'just' dreams. Then sometimes they are more. Knowing which from which is the journey.)

Stay Tuned.

Thursday, March 30, 2017

"Don't do this at Home kids..."

"Still Fucked Up",...but getting better.


Granted I look like stone-washed hell,...but I'm working on it. Put on my dress uniform for the battle. Recovery continues...mostly. Eating solids plus soup all staying down so far. Still weird dizzy, a bit confused....well no change there.

Just this,...never ever. I mean not even 'ever' take your health for granted...'cause it ain't.
Taking pain meds, and barfing stopper. Mixed results...we'll see. Good news I'm detoxing from them depression meds which just made me sick anyway.
Gooder news I'm still my old cranky annoying Drama Queen self.

I think I'd make a neat President,....I mean now that we know 'anyone' can get the job.
Did I mention I'm seeing bleep at my peripheral vision?

...but I digress.

Anyhow yeah I'd be a totally insane Boss of bosses down in D.C. Unlike our current patient there I'd have fun with shit. First off I'd have my new "Department of Happy Surprises" Fed-Ex everyone nice shit. For example voter or not legal or not you get a birthday present...sorry no returns. This neat-o Department will from time to give out goodies to everyone just because it's nice to do...ya know how if ya was lucky that weird nice uncle or aunt that would just show up with neat shit for everyone...hey what's government for?

We'd have the damned Army Navy 'n Marines set up emergency field clinics/hospitals everywhere...I mean everywhere because what is this shit we're in, but not a national Disaster.
...special attention to the Black Lung victims in mining country. The opioid addiction regions. Special attention to kids, and the elderly. Make like we was just nuked, and we're putting shit back together 'cause it ain't all that different from that now.

A "Department of Chefs"!

New chefs all over the place cooking up 5 Star meals for everybody that wants or needs 'em.. That, and delivered by our Army...heck if I was a kid I'd join up to be part of this swell stuff. Imagine them new giant ass "King Stallion" choppers landing in the middle of a forsaken 'Murican" town. That and keen to serve G.I.s poring out to feed the hungry comfort the sorrowful, and heal the wounded. "Protect, and Serve" finally come to life!

(...How's this serious noise for Meals on Wheels!)

Also perhaps an "Institute of Safe Desserts. This would in league with the UN. Basically fixing it so creamy yummies won't give ya cancer diabetes or bad vibes. Figuring out how to make all the world's yummy stuff safe to eat...without killing the damned flavor! We went to the frigging Moon sent two Voyagers to the stars, and have bleeping robots fucking around on mars...I think we could do this too.
All this in the first year or so...I mean besides building the "Woodstock Stonewall Monument", and all the usual crap of running an empire.

"Yes Uncle, but how we gonna pay for all this neat bleep?"

You kidding? Most of this swell action could be brought in for the cost of three or four Super Aircraft Carriers, and the proposed fleet of F-35's...which don't work. That, and as once classified documents from the Naval Proceedings tell us. Them new carriers would have a short life expectancy in an actual war with folks that can shoot back,...say our pals Russia or China. In a 'real' war them big things live from hours to a week...max. So bleep that noise use the dough to have a good time healing caring feeding, and giving out gifts to our fucked over masses.

Btw did I mention National Health Care, and universal higher education.
No? Okay that's in the next memo.


Uncle Syd Resident of the United States of America.

Eh,...I'm not raving am I?

Stay Tuned.

"Holy Crap!"

My current health has kicked up some surreal noise in my sleep. I can't describe it...can't write about it, and dreams are where I get my 'best' material. Suffice to say I'm a tad fucked just now, and the below "Godzilla" happy drama sums up my "Little Nemo" experiences of late.

Eh...I'm in the third tank from the left.

Stay the Hell Tuned.

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

"Day One"

My meds withdrawal went critical so I called 9-1-1. The EMT gals came in two seconds, and injected me into the "Kings County Nut House". This where questions were asked possessions stripped pills given, and my naked body detector swiped. ...Twice just to make sure.

This is where I wondered if that 9-1-1 move was swift.

The armed though smiling "helpers" gave me powder blue jammies wrist I.D. , and my own cell. which these days are called "Pods". My! It was pastel heaven. Dickens' Bedlam made over by the Art Student's League.

The scene.

There were 12 pods to a platform. Each with a plain flat bed, and hard plastic comfy chair. Pastel. Beyond was an open area where the walking wounded...of which I was one... sat drawing, and coloring.

Above this gleeful noise were two large mounted TV's. On one bunnies, and kittens on the other collapsing glaciers villages bombed to bits Africa starving riots in Russia, and America imploding.

No wonder everyone there was nuts.

Mean time I got medical work-overs. Blood stool piss, and that was just lunch. Later it got invasive. Btw nut houses are as advertised. Bad. Actually rather 'very' bad. Good intentioned clean tidy pastel oppression bad.

I had more entertaining adventures which ended with a simple meal of Soylent Green, and morphine. Well not really I was just hoping is all.

Towards night folks got itchy.

'Here to tell 'ya. The "Joint was Jumping". Dinner, and a show.

"Day Two"

I was transferred from the loonie bin to the medical wing for serious dissection. A nice kid gave me a sonogram to see if my guts were still there. Good news they were, and more or less working. Gooder news I wasn't pregnant.

Being an old guy I'm now an experienced patient so know the drill. Plenty of tests to stack the Medicaid cost. Uncle Sam is a first class sucker bless his soul!

The medical priesthood finally figured out I was in blinding fucking I told them when I got there a day ago. All 24 blinding agonized hours ago. That, and They wondered if I'd like something for the "discomfort".

...Civilization is indeed a strange thing.

I said "yes" with as much Orwellian irony as I could. This was rewarded with assorted goodies. Christ I love drugs! A note is it me or are all of the medical workers in Brooklyn from Barbados? Not a complaint mind...just wondering.

Well all good things...

They topped me off with stuff I can't pronounce. Gave me all sorts of stuff to sign. They wants to hook me up for more Medicare bucks for themselves, and I was all for it...drugs.

Actually they was neat folks just going about comforting, and saving lives...ya know like we all do. So I'm home in much less pain. Though still a bit fucked up. They wants me back tomorrow. I told them not likely. We worked something out.

Bottom line I ain't dead after all.

Stay Tuned.

Monday, March 27, 2017

"The more or less Obvious"

Pull out the bottom brink, and the whole thing comes down. Easier said than done, but stop co-operating with your Slavery.

Stay Tuned.

Sunday, March 26, 2017


As JFK said of the "Bay of Pigs" disaster. "Success has many fathers, but failure is an orphan". However JFK took the hit for that massive failure. As any American president would do,...till now.
I'm actually amazed even 'stunned' by our current president. With the failure of his administration's first major legislation he refuses responsibility.

He even went so far as to tell his voters to watch a Fox News hatchet job on House Speaker Paul Ryan in a massive shifting of blame. That program telling Ryan to step down. Mr. Trump with so many condemnations already heaped upon him from rational people marks a new low.

Truly I am amazed,...yes stunned that even 'he' would as a matter of course sink so low in cowardice, and immaturity. How we will fare the next three years, and ten months I do not know.

"Trump directed people through a tweet to watch Pirro, on Fox, a former county court judge and district attorney. Her “opening statement” was, “Paul Ryan needs to step down as speaker of the house. The reason? He failed to deliver the votes on his healthcare bill.”
She said that “Americans elected the one man they believed could do it,” and that Speaker Ryan came in with his “swagger and experience” and sold Trump a “bill of goods which ends up a complete and total failure.”
“I want to be clear this is not on President Trump,” Pirro added. (MSN)

( I'm afraid I must post given the absence of civics, and history in this era's schools. The above painting is a detail of the official portrait of President John F. Kennedy.) youngsters might want to google him. We once had brave wise dignified occupants of the White House.

Stay Tuned as long as you can.

Saturday, March 25, 2017




"Crap Game"

All the mayhem around me here in the building I live in is starting to quiet. Even a murder has a span of interest. Life must go on. No matter how devastating the lost life insists on moving on. 'Been ill since the day. Though slowly getting better...I think.

I no longer take Meds so my body is trying to adjust. However I have to start new quackery soon. Anyway so as I said here we are. Life is so fleeting fragile, and perhaps of little or no meaning.

With that in mind I've been reading the press again...never a good idea. Seems "Trump Care" bit the dust...who knew? I thought these Nazi fucks owned the country now. Seems not. As soon as the Trump voters found out the "ACA" was in fact Obama Care they freaked out!

Geez...da dummies didn't they read their prescription labels?

So now they want to keep what the Kenyan reptilian gave them after all. Again "...who knew?" That, and the 56% or so that didn't vote for the current maniac are en-mass getting off their butts, and making all sorts of noise.

A Commie Tea Party...who'd 'a thunk it. 

Here below is from my FB page. It's a sort of PG-13 version of this dump around here. No boy pictures, and not too much frank language.

This my reaction to the resistance both from the usual suspects, and amazingly traditional conservatives. This is sort of like when Commies, and Catholic reactionaries both fought against the Nazi Occupation together...interesting.

As I say both wings are fighting Trump because he, and that Bannon looney plan to dismantle the actual government.

"Granted the country, and or world may be getting run by six guys wearing top hats, and monocles in a bunker under second base at Dodgers Stadium. Still even they are starting to see that game is starting to unravel."

"In their own self interest I think they'll let the Balance of the Judiciary, and Legislative pull an insane Executive back in line. Be that an impeachment resignation or a scary example to calm the orange nutter down for the next three years, and ten months."

"In other words the "People" will be 'allowed' stop this madman from screwing up the best international crap game in history."

'And so far that seems the size of it...we'll see.

Stay Tuned as long as ya can.

"Vita continuat"

"Et volabunt in ignotis"

"Somnus somnium requiem"

Thursday, March 23, 2017

"Dead at the Scene"

It seems a day of days. At least in this building. There was a murder here. An older woman killed by her grandson. Sounds the typical urban tragedy. Until it hits feet from you. The reasons are unclear. The details I'll spare you. They're bad. very bad. Much blood.

It's been some years since I've been this close to un-natural death. Not since my Houseless time. Of course the folks here are stunned. As am I. When this happens at close quarters the world stops. Being related or not it all stops.

That, and I had no idea it happened till I opened my door to go shopping, and found a sea of Blue before me.
Police everywhere canvassing all the neighbors. As it happens they were about to knock on my door as I opened it. I knew nothing, and they said nothing. This to not color anyone's story. They wanted fresh first hand information. Which I couldn't give them.

I went out the press was there. The local radio, and TV. I got my information from them. I ended up on Channel 12 the Brooklyn cable station. Basically giving an overview of the neighborhood's history. How it was the wild west during the crack war, and is now very quiet, and gentrifying.

So here we all are.

With an inexplicable tragedy. We have much to ponder, and now much to live with.

Stay Tuned.

"In Other News..."

"In these Times"

This below is a FB story from my radio pal, and comrade of decades Mike Feder, and my reply.

"Subway story..."

Yesterday, I’m riding uptown on the number 1 local and a guy gets on the train at Times Square. He’s big, overweight and filthy, wearing a worn gray shirt and dirty gray, sagging sweatpants. His shirt is unbuttoned, and his flabby chest and stomach are hanging out. He’s got a large paper cup in his hand and he’s shaking it… “Ladies and Gentlemen, I am seventeen years old and am homeless. I need some money to buy food—whatever you can afford.”

Everybody (standing and sitting) near him is either deliberately ignoring him or regarding him with varying levels of distaste…

A woman, about 40 years old, dyed blond hair, expensive looking clothes (a pink hoodie, blue jeans and black sneakers) is standing right there. She bends down, reaches into a plastic shopping bag and comes up with some purple grapes on a stem. “Here,” she says, holding them out to him. Guy looks at her, frowns, roughly pushes them away with his free hand, then turns around and resumes his begging.

The woman looks at him and says to one and all, with surprise and hurt in her voice “They’re organic!”.

The guy suddenly realizes how it all looks—him refusing free fresh food when he’s begging for food money. He walks back to the woman and starts to yell at her—“Bitch, you ruined my money thing!”
She grabs her bag and walks to another part of the car.

Now everybody is commenting on what the guy did. He’s screaming, “Fucking bitch!” The Train stops at 59th—Columbus Circle, and the woman gets off.
Muttering and cursing, the guy opens the connecting door and walks into another car.
Just another day’s ride on the Broadway local…

My comment to Mike's story.

In my year as houseless I noted the pecking order. At the top were those newly homeless who may still have jobs so can somewhat fend for themselves. That's where I was. Then those who have become resigned to the life, and are almost catatonic in despair. They do nothing, but sit. Then the players. These are folks who will act as anything crippled nuts or whatever to get a few coins. That's the guy in the story. Then at the bottom the old sick, and insane...seriously without hope dignity or rationality.

They die.

In my time I saw much death. Regular folks rarely see this since these are cleaned off the streets before rush hour. ...mostly. Though we saw them. It takes about two to three years on the streets...depending on the individual to hit the bottom.

I was found, and rescued by family, and friends so spent only near a year on what I have since called, "the Outside". This can happen to anyone. No matter your position. You can through any number of personal financial or health circumstances become Houseless.

If I live long enough I would like to read that is when the Homeless Era ends. I would like to read it's history. It's initial historic economic cultural beginnings its acme it's ending, and it's aftermath. In time it will end. Just as the Dickeneque hoards of the early industrial western have-not's in time became the working, and middle classes. Till then we all share guilt for letting this happen. Letting it  go on, and on, and on.

Stay Tuned as long as you can.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

"The President of the United States of America"

Yes he's a deluded idiot, yes the world knows this. Yes half the country knows this. However a solid 40%+ of American voters either don't know or don't care. The horrifying truth is our President is Insane. About that 40%. They'll follow him blindly like a Cult.

The grave danger is that one day in a fit he could tell his believers in a 6:am tweet to Attack any one of a number Communities,...and they would. That afternoon there'd be Hunting Parties all over the country Attacking even killing people.


Unthinkable...No it is Not. Our King is Mad, and so is Half the Nation he Rules.

May G-d save the United States of America, and may G-d save the World.

Stay Tuned for as long as you can.

"Ghost Dance"

On a friend's page he wondered how to survive a possible nuclear attack. The North Koreans, and now the Chinese thanks to trump shaking their "Fiery Swords" at us. I replied in my usual jolly way.

"If you are anywhere within 50 miles of a multi warhead hit on a major city you are dead...period. This from direct blast injury from being buried under burning wreckage asphyxiation as all the air is sucked up by the multiple fire storms that will soon congeal into a vast regional blaze."

"If you are 100 miles away your chances because of the yield of modern warheads would be 1 in approx. 30. This because of panic break down of social order, and the radioactive frontal waves of smoke from the firestorms that will in a few hours reach you. Your chances increase the farther away from the burning region.

Your life expectancy increases the farther away you go.

If I had to be in a state that was hit I'd want to be at a minimum of 200+ miles from a multiple warhead ground zero. Even then I'd be on the move to get further away especially if the winds were in my direction. We must remember if a nuclear exchange between the major powers happens it will not be 'one' mere bomb from a plane. This the cold war stereotype of attack. Whole squadrons of ICBMs will be assigned to hundreds of individual military industrial financial, and yes cultural targets. This is intentional.

Understand this war for both sides is to the total destruction, and death of your enemies. The idea is to utterly destroy not just the military, and political centers, but the whole complete culture. To wipe you, and the memory of you from the face of the Earth. That is the true purpose of these frightful things.

That said you must know that each target will have 10 to as many as 50 warheads hit it. Especially if a military area or political center. For example. After the cold war when the Soviet achieves were for a short time open to western scholars we discovered that the Pentagon alone had 30+ warheads of varying strength targeted on it. One has to think in such terms if you think you're going to survive.

Bottom line...

If you can see it or hear it you are immediately dead or dead in hours. However a terror nuke is another matter. This may be "just" the spreading of radioactive dust over a distance of 5 to 20 miles. That or a low yield radiological explosion. Perhaps a quarter+ the force of the Hiroshima bomb. These are survivable for many if circumstance is with us. Perhaps more that half the population of the target city 'may' live traumatized shortened post strike lives. This of course because of radiation induced cancers in the next 10 to 30 years. That's it in a nutshell for a "Terror Bomb". Things can vary because of type of warhead weather time of day social resilience, and local ground conditions. 

"...who wants pie?!"

Stay tuned for as long as you can.

Let them Die of their own Stupidity"

The Republic will not survive intact from this Administration. This is so clear now. We have profoundly different values. This administration of the far right. Their plans are nothing if not a direct Declaration of War on the Blue States. A total abrogation of the social contract that has bound us together till now.

We've a become 50/50 contentious nation.

No compromise possible. Indeed both sides now actually hate each other.

If you know your history it is more than clear that the election of 2016 in a near mirror image of the national election of 1861. That one led directly to our first Civil War. We are now, and have been for more than a decade in the second. It's climax it's "Gettysburg" is coming.

That ignorant incompetent childish womanizing madman in the "WH" will do something stupid that will lead to that. He will give us another Gettysburg. The final breaking point. The irony is he won't even have done it on purpose, but just out of temper or pure stupidity.
Somewhere sometime between now, and 2020 this drunken tragic clown show of an administration will kill the nation. Our beloved republic will break apart.

This is why I illustrated this post with a "Starless Banner".

The Social Democratic States will fracture from the regressive "You're on your own White is Right States". The very odd thing is the "On your Own, and Meals on Wheels is Satanist States" are the poorest least educated, and most in need of nutritional/medical support.

Aw well goodbye, and good luck.

*Sorry about your hungry kids, and your old folks dying in the streets from disease, and hunger. This since feeding, and caring for them is demonic Socialism. Guess they should have got jobs huh?

You fucking Barbarians die by your own stupidity.

*Addendum: ...Alright I had a day or two to think about this post. No I don't want anyone to suffer especially kids, and old folks. All that was my rage speaking. My "Better Angels" gave me hell about all that. So no none of that. As I myself have said, "...Less Suffering is Better than More".

I'm still freaked out, and pissed as hell though, and I still fear the Republic is going to breakup. However if, and when it does our Better Selves must guide us through that Dark Storm.


Stay Tuned.

Friday, March 17, 2017


Okay. Let's say that next Tuesday while the President of the United States of America is tweeting that the "Tooth" fairy has been sucking his schlong while he's asleep, and Hillary put her...or him up to it. He orders Spicer to re-enact the assault in the press room. While this is going on The ruling Kim Jung Nutter of North Korea orders his guys to launch a spread of four of his new IRBM's with nuke warheads on 'em at U.S. bases in Japan, and Guam.

One explodes on the pad. This causing all the ground crew, and their relatives to the fifth generation to be eaten by wild dogs in a pit. Another splashes harmlessly into the Sea of Japan. With the same entertaining reward to that crew.

However the other two hit their marks. An American air base in Japan, and another on Guam. Those crews are rewarded by being allowed to sleep an extra five minutes on the King Nutters birthday.

You following me here. Okay.

So mushroom clouds rise over Japan, and Guam with that shit head boss of North Korea daring us to do anything about it. What does our esteemed Commander in Chief do,...besides wet himself? ...and call Bannon? Should make for interesting viewing on YouTube.

Hey I'm just asking what our President would do if faced with a Peace or War life or death of Nations situation that comes with his job. I mean other than Trump's going out to East Goatfucker County Iowa to have the yokels cheer his ongoing kicking out Brown of people.

There by making America a little Whiter.

Eh just asking since this or something rather like it "IS" going to happen. Also the video below is of a test back in the 1950's of a 10 Kiloton artillery shell. This is about what we think the latest N.K. warhead yield is right now. What they would hit our pacific bases with.

Stay Tuned.

"From my FB page"

Sidney: ...Just sitting here waiting for the letter that sez my Meds are history.

Randy: ...You know, I wonder how far up the ladder do you have to be, before you're not expendable? Rich, Fucking Rich, or Holy Shit Fucking Rich?

Sidney: ...Well the poor working poor middle class even upper middle have been cannon fodder in this class war for decades...completely "expendable". By now I'd say the merely rich have joined the ranks of human plankton. In time it will be the one tenth of the one percent whose existence will matter. Then after that it's back to the Divine Right of Kings. In other words a hand full of families.

Sidney: ...So the Trump National Budget will punish the children the very old the poor, and sick. Thing of it is this will 'not' lower any support for Trump. This because his 'real' message was literally to make this country 'White' again. Which he is doing. If this means they don't eat they seem to be fine with that.

As Trump himself said, "I love the poorly educated." ...and they love him for throwing out the Brown people. ...soon Blacks Queers Jews Uppity Women , and anyone else that don't make the cut.

I guess that means eventually the literate as well.

The German people supported Hitler even when the Russians kicked in their front door. It was not political it was para-religious. They "Believed". As do the Trump supporters. Nothing he does. No crime no cruelty no madness will change that. It seems it 'can' happen here.

...and did.

Stay Tuned, long as you can.


Well,...ahem. I thought it might be interesting to take our minds off the fall, and complete destruction of American liberal Democracy. This with a jolly fantasy of just a planetary genocidal war from the eternal dark monotonous heavens.

See fun Video below.

Beats thinking about how they just took away "Meals on Wheels" from hungry old folks here. That, and how for the next several years we're basically powerless to stop any of these ongoing atrocities.

Stay Tuned.

"The Great Martian War" 1913~1917