Saturday, August 20, 2005

Sheehan Tells It Like It Is

Cindy Sheehan wrote another open letter to the ignorant American public, again holding no punches. Here's an exerpt:

One thing I haven't noticed or become aware of though is an increased number of pro-war, pro-Bush people on the other side of the fence enlisting to go and fight George Bush's war for imperialism and insatiable greed. The pro-peace side has gotten off their apathetic butts to be warriors for peace and justice. Where are the pro-war people? Everyday at Camp Casey we have a couple of anti-peace people on the other side of the road holding up signs that remind me that "Freedom isn't Free" but I don't see them putting their money where their mouths are. I don't think they are willing to pay even a small down payment for freedom by sacrificing their own blood or the flesh of their children.


I like the way she calls a pussy a pussy. Here's the rest of the letter.

Friday, August 19, 2005

The Messiah Does It Again

That crazy-ass Jesus is everywhere. Where won't that guy's image appear?

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/southern_counties/4161112.stm

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Bush the Moist

Here's what our fearless leader has to say about why he's avoiding Cindy Sheehan.
I think it's important for me to be thoughtful and sensitive to those who have got something to say. But I think it's also important for me to go on with my life, to keep a balanced life ... I think the people want the president to be in a position to make good, crisp decisions and to stay healthy. And part of my being is to be outside exercising. So I'm mindful of what goes on around me. On the other hand, I'm also mindful that I've got a life to live and will do so.
I'd say he's balanced his life on a pile of broken soldiers' bodies. What a spineless worm! This is a quote he gave the Cox News Service, so hopefully his whining will be spread far and wide and perhaps his remaining supporters will finally see him for what he is. Here's the story, a good one from truthout.org, where I found this bit of spittle from the Commander-in-thief.

For the Record...

Just wanted to get this down in black and white: Matt Drudge is a half-witted, ass-licking attention whore who isn't fit to breath the same air as the likes of Cindy Sheehan. Glad I got that off my chest.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

My Newest Hero

I just read some remarks by Cindy Sheehan, the mother of a boy killed in Iraq who is camping at the roadside in front of George W. Bush's Texas ranch during his five-week vacation taken while his war rages on. (I bet the boys in Iraq wish they could have a five-week paid vacation from hell.)

Cindy Sheehan is my newest hero. She has got guts, real grit, and she doesn't have to dress up in a flight suit either. She calls it like it is:

"That lying bastard, George Bush, is taking a five-week vacation in time of war!"

"And the other thing I want him to tell me is 'just what was the noble cause Casey [Sheehan] died for?' Was it freedom and democracy? Bullshit! He died for oil. He died to make your friends richer. He died to expand American imperialism in the Middle East. We're not freer here, thanks to your PATRIOT Act. Iraq is not free. You get America out of Iraq and Israel out of Palestine and you'll stop the terrorism."

Ms. Sheehan wants to see Bush jailed for his behavior, and so do I. George W. Bush deserves to spend the rest of his days rotting in a cell, never seeing the sunshine, taking his morning dump out in the open where the other prisoners can watch, just like those poor fuckers he's got illegally held in Gitmo. He doesn't deserve better. He's a liar and a theif and a murderer by proxy.

Here's a recounting of her arrival at the Crawford ranch:

http://www.iconoclast-texas.com/News/2005/31-40/31news02.htm

This page describes how Sheehan's son Casey died:

http://www.fallenheroesmemorial.com/oif/profiles/sheehancasey.html

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

The Day the Music Died

Today is the 10th anniversary of Jerry Garcia’s death, which was also the end of the Grateful Dead. Rest in peace, Jerry.

Test Post

This is a test post to see if I can make my posts travel in time, or at least put them in a false chronological order. I'm writing this on Aug. 15 at about 12:23 a.m., and I'm going to change the date at the bottom of the composition window to see where it will put this post.

Monday, August 08, 2005

Dealing with an Angry Idiot

The other day I was chatting online in the Giants’ forum when someone came in and started ranting about San Francisco being full of gays. He was trying to bait a fit out of someone, so I turned it around on him. I told him the only reason he was upset about that was because it tantalized him. He was ashamed of his own interest in homosexuality. It only disgusted him, I said, because he was disgusted with himself. He flipped, called me a string of nasty names, questioned my orientation and then got out as quick as he could. The only other guy in the room laughed his ass off. It felt good to send that bully back where he came from angrier than when he came in, and maybe he’ll even realize that I’m right: He is in the closet.

(And now my own bigotry has me wanting to state my heterosexuality loudly and clearly. I've got a wife and two children! I love sports! Just when you think you know yourself.... Oh well.)

More De-Idiot-izing

Here's another source for news outside of the mainstream of media.

http://www.informationclearinghouse.info/

You're an Idiot! Now What?

OK, after further consideration, I find it may not be enough just to tell you idiots that you're idiots. You need direction. That may be where my future lies. I'm thinking about writing non-idiot behavior stories commercially.

How to Tell If You're an Idiot

OK, so I accused the entire human population of being idiots with the exception of a very few of us. I owe it to my multitude of readers to give them a test to determine if they, too, are ignorant idiots. Here it is:

Are you outraged on a daily basis by the greed and stupidity of our leaders in Washington, D.C.?

If you answered "yes" there is some glimmer of hope for you; if you answered "no", you're an idiot. Simple, eh?

If you want to stop being an idiot, you can start by becoming educated about the behavior of our leaders. Start here:

http://www.truthout.org/

Good luck!

Sunday, August 07, 2005

No Room for Stupidity

I promised raves, so here you go:

For years now I've consciously recognized something I think I've always known about you, my fellow humans: You're all a bunch of fucking idiots. Yes, you. You are an idiot. You probably know almost nothing about the world around you beyond the confines of some small division of the vast stores of human knowledge. You're ignorant. And, worse, you're arrogant. Not only are you painfully stupid, you're proud of it.

There are a few of you out there to whom this does not apply, but you are the vast minority, perhaps 1/1,000,000 of the population, and that's being generous.

Even those of you who seem to be caring, thoughtful individuals are only so on the surface. You still don't think beyond this moment and perhaps the next. You don't care what you're doing to the planet's ability to sustain your children or even yourself.

You can tell the ones who know this is true, the ones with just enough brain power to realize how stupid they are. They're the ones who make the barest of attempts to correct this fault in our species and fail miserably. They found religions and attempt social engineering, but they don't really do anything about anything. Then they get depressed and repressive and then fat and finally arrogant.

Let's take the case of dairy farmers. I live in the San Joaquin Valley of California, the richest farmland on the planet. (Or at least it was--It's going to go bad in the not-to-distant future becase we've dammed the rivers and drained the swamps that nurished the soil.) There are more dairy cattle here than there are human beings, some 2.5 million of these great methane-farting, -belching things, about 20 percent of the United States' population of milch cows. Each one of these tremendously stupid animals puts out about 20 pounds of pollution a year and if we had any brains at all as a society, we'd do something about this. Not only does the Valley have the best farmland in the world, it also has some of the worst air, beaten out only by the Los Angeles Basin.

So we're all going to band together to correct the problem, right? Of course not! The dairy industry is entrenched. It would cut into profits to correct this stupidity, so the dairy lobby fights tooth-and-nail to protect it's God-given right to turn our air into mud. Money changes hands and science gets shunted to the side. The rich bastards who run the industry don't fucking care about anything but their wallets, even though they already have more money than they will ever need in this lifetime or the children's. They're proud of what they've done! Worst of all, what they do what they're doing because they think they're protecting themselves and their families; instead, they're killing them. Idiots!

Then the guilt sets in. They know with absolute surity at some subconscious level that what they're doing is wrong. But their fear of not having what it takes to protect themselves and the ones they love drives them to damage their environment beyond its ability to provide for a population of humans of the size we've allowed ourselves to become. But, do they do anything about it? No. Why? They're idiots and cowards.

What about me? Yup. Me too.

Let the stream of abuse begin.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

On further review

I submitted my biking in Tulare County article yesterday after doing the final edit. It's much better than I imagined it to be. When you're writing something like that, reading and rereading and rereading, you lose your objectivity. It wasn't bad at all. I covered what was called for in the assignment--even if the assignment was rather vague, as usual--and I did a good job of it. I could have talked to more non-experts, but I'd have just gotten fluffy quotes about how fun it is to ride a bike. Who cares? That's not adding anything. Ah, well. My editor did ask for that, but she doesn't always know what makes good copy. I've been doing this longer than she has.

Monday, August 01, 2005

Excuses, excuses

I wrote the article. Took me several hours. I've been dragging like that lately. This isn't the way I usually perform, and it's bothering me. I think it's got a lot to do with writing about things I don't care much about. But, this story was about one of my favorite things, biking, so I don't have that excuse. Alternate excuse: The article is OK, but certainly not my best work. Taking the edge off is the fact my office is also our spare bedroom, meaning I can't get in here at night. I do much of my best work then.

Procrastination...

OK, so I've got an article due tomorrow on bicycling here in Tulare County. I've got my research and I'm ready to write. Should be no problem at all. I live here and riding my bike is one of my favorite things. But, I'm not writing. Why? Beats the holy living crap out of me.

See, when I have a deadline I get this lump in my stomach, a feeling of dread. Sort of a really pussy-assed thing. Fear. Whatever you want to call it, I hate it.

I almost have to siddle up to these things nonchalantly, sort of pretending I'm just fucking around and then, boom, I'm in the middle of getting the thing actually written. What's really pathetic about this is I've been writing articles like this professionally for a decade now.

There's the problem, and here's the solution: Ignore that lump. It's obviously my psyche tring to protect me from something it sees as a threat. Stupid when considered on a conscious level, but something else must be at play. What? I don't know. But, my mind is at war with itself it seems over this issue and neither side is willing to explain itself to the part of me that is me and sits on top of the subconscious getting tossed around like a raft at the junction of two powerful currents. Ignore the pull and tug of the currents and keep rowing, Dave. Keep rowing.