As a former Marine and combat veteran I voted for President Obama hoping that he would remove our troops from Iraq and Afghanistan and even though the Whitehouse has recently hinted there would be no reduction in forces protecting Kabul... I really thought that in Obama grandeur we would get a press conference later this week not only announcing the refusal to send more young men to that heroin infested shit hole but a proclamation of ENDING THE WAR! What war?
Close to 1,000 US soldiers have died in Afghanistan and almost 5,000 in Iraq. Do you realize it has been NINE years? We go on with our lives and do any of you recall the last time you watched an American-flag-draped coffin exit a plane at Dover? Do any of you recall the last soldier killed in Afghanistan? Has there been any reduction in troop sizes in Afghanistan or Iraq? This is a black GW!
To be honest with you, no other issue permeated my thoughts when voting for Obama more than Iraq and Afghanistan. I could give a crap about gay marriage, a new economic policy, or Iran...all I wanted was someone with balls to stand up to the narcissistic military establishment that runs through Washington, London, Moscow, Baghdad, Jerusalem, Riyadh and New Delhi and say E N O U G H !
I guess the decision to forego any troop removal was made behind closed doors last month in Pittsburgh...ermmmm, ever heard of the Group of Twenty? G-20. They had a little summit in Pittsburgh last month. This decision most likely bodes well for most of the G-20 whores. Think about it...the Taliban in Afghanistan and Pakistan have become to the world what the Palestianians are to Israel... a bunch of mis-fit kwanii kelbahs (faggot bitches) that no one else wants to help find a solution to or for so the international community has used our presence in Afghanistan as leverage to remind President Obama that our boys need to remain there in order to fight for Afghani womens suffrage, Zoroastrian freedom, education for the little kids, a fruitful life at least past 10 years old, an outlet to the abyss. Wait! That sounds like Memphis! We have one of if not the highest infant mortality rate in the country that is worse than some T H I R D W O R L D countries, our violent crime among young people is much more skewed toward black on black - try 99% - which is an abomination, more than a third of our highschool kids never finish school, and we wonder why Memphis was one of the first cities to receive the H1N1 innoculation - today, 10/05/09 - it is because we are in the middle of a mayoral race where everyone is talking about bringing the county and city together as one loving fucking entity and being equal.
Equal?? A 10 year old white girl with MS and other complications died last week in Memphis from H1N1 and a 13 year old very healthy black boy died yesterday two miles away. 6,000 cases have been reported in Memphis. Yet the G-20 have a new vision and the Pittsburgh summit's preamble stated:
"We meet in the midst of a critical transition from crisis to recovery to turn the page on an era of irresponsibility and to adopt a set of policies, regulations and reforms to meet the needs of the 21st century global economy..."
Afghanistan borders Irans eastern boundaries and that is the only reason I can imagine we have fooled ourselves into remaining there...it will force the Persians to talk more. This is so ludicrous. I despise Ahmadinejad but do not see why he has to be forced to "talk". I think it is time for Cyrus to just let it be.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot, we have troops on the other side of Persia/Iran also... I R A Q. Maybe there is some order in chaos in the new world idealogy of geo-stratified nation building... it's sheer madness to me. I just beg that we cut our losses and let the zibs (dicks) take care of themselves but no matter what, as Stephen Decatur said, "my country right or wrong , my country..." but this is the abbreviated version for quaint hill-billy southerners! What he actually said was: “My country, right or wrong; if right, to be kept right; and if wrong, to be set right.” Let's do what we can to set it right!
Semper Fidelis!
Monday, October 5, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
In The Ghetto...
...the first time I remember hearing the word ghetto was when I asked my mom what it meant after hearing Elvis Presley sing Mac Davis' In The Ghetto...uh, maybe sometime around 1975 for me. The song was originally titled The Vicious Circle and Elvis recorded it as In The Ghetto at American Sound Studio in Memphis in 1968 - the same year Robert Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Jr, Neal Cassady, Yuri Gagarin, Helen Keller, Upton Sinclair and John Steinbeck died. Wow! Talk about a mouth-full! And the year before some of us saw Jim Morrison, Janice Joplin and Jimi Hendrix pass. WTF? Vietnam was a festering boil - Israel had won the Six Day War with G-d and Bob Dylan on their side, patriotiam had become the last refuge of the scoundrel, and Ivy League schools were prepping for the sneaky neo-cons!
Prefix: to place in front of, especially to add as a prefix - 'prefix a syllable to a word'. I preferred Websters because it is still a bit original and not so modern. So when did GHETTO become a syllable?
Most Anthropologists and Sociologists will tell you that one of the most common avenues used to destroy or conquer a nation, people, country, ethnic group, cultural entity, etc. was/is to subdue it's native language. "Subduing" a native tongue did not always mean completely doing away with it but often times more than others it included DE-SENSITIZING (there goes the prefix) original peoples uses of certain words initially and then indirectly deriding the entire language.
Not far from the gates of Graceland Elvis sang:
"People, don't you understand, the child needs a helping hand or he'll grow to be an angry young man some day. Take a look at you and me, are we too blind to see, do we simply turn our heads and look the other way? Well the world turns and a hungry little boy with a runny nose plays in the street as the cold wind blows In the ghetto."
Put ghetto before all of the following words and please explain to me what the meanings are: -food, -car, -soul, -house, -bootie, -hair, -shirt, -watch, -dog, -honey, -man, -gay (gay-ghetto), -school, -church, -medicine, -education ????????????????
I'll tell you what it means: an attempt by racist suburban pigs to subtly diminish an ethnic groups identity and self worth by further claiming that they are nothing without "whitey!" It means a place where Jews were pushed into well before Hitler that ended in the camps under the Nazis. It means a place in northern Africa where Jews were "quartered" in front of the ruling elites compounds to protect them from riotous crowds. It means a place where people end up living due to less than financial prosperity becasue there is minimal revenue remaining in the area - schools suck, medical care sucks, transportation sucks, grocery stores suck (have you ever seriously shopped a grocery store in an economically depressed neighborhood? The meat department is akin to what I imagine a meat "counter" looked like in 1870 famished Ireland! - seriously - neckbones, tripe, feet, etc) These are not so much cultural delicassies as much as they are FORCED dietary items. A Vicious Circle? What did Elvis say? Take a look at you and me, are we too blind to see?
Graceland grew from south Memphis - south Memphis did not grow from Graceland. Lisa Marie recorded a duet "with her dad" in August 07' of In The Ghetto to raise money for the Presley Charitable Foundation which caught a lot of shit from the "holier-than-thow" crowd because of it's depiction of toddler's with guns in the city. Toddlers with guns? Huh? Black teenage kids are killing each other in this city and they are toddlers in the eyes of g-d! Our eyes are not too blind to see, our souls are too dark to know. Do you have to know something to care about it? Or do we simply refuse to care?
As "white flight" began in our country (whites leaving the inner city for the suburbs) the FHA Mortgage Manual stated: "Recommended restrictions should include provision for: prohibition of the occupancy of properties except by the race for which they are intended …Schools should be appropriate to the needs of the new community and they should not be attended in large numbers by inharmonious racial groups." Nothing else needs to be said.
Use of the word ghetto is unacceptable! Unless we (white people) are describing our own souls...it is a white-ghetto-diaspora-of-the-soul.
Prefix: to place in front of, especially to add as a prefix - 'prefix a syllable to a word'. I preferred Websters because it is still a bit original and not so modern. So when did GHETTO become a syllable?
Most Anthropologists and Sociologists will tell you that one of the most common avenues used to destroy or conquer a nation, people, country, ethnic group, cultural entity, etc. was/is to subdue it's native language. "Subduing" a native tongue did not always mean completely doing away with it but often times more than others it included DE-SENSITIZING (there goes the prefix) original peoples uses of certain words initially and then indirectly deriding the entire language.
Not far from the gates of Graceland Elvis sang:
"People, don't you understand, the child needs a helping hand or he'll grow to be an angry young man some day. Take a look at you and me, are we too blind to see, do we simply turn our heads and look the other way? Well the world turns and a hungry little boy with a runny nose plays in the street as the cold wind blows In the ghetto."
Put ghetto before all of the following words and please explain to me what the meanings are: -food, -car, -soul, -house, -bootie, -hair, -shirt, -watch, -dog, -honey, -man, -gay (gay-ghetto), -school, -church, -medicine, -education ????????????????
I'll tell you what it means: an attempt by racist suburban pigs to subtly diminish an ethnic groups identity and self worth by further claiming that they are nothing without "whitey!" It means a place where Jews were pushed into well before Hitler that ended in the camps under the Nazis. It means a place in northern Africa where Jews were "quartered" in front of the ruling elites compounds to protect them from riotous crowds. It means a place where people end up living due to less than financial prosperity becasue there is minimal revenue remaining in the area - schools suck, medical care sucks, transportation sucks, grocery stores suck (have you ever seriously shopped a grocery store in an economically depressed neighborhood? The meat department is akin to what I imagine a meat "counter" looked like in 1870 famished Ireland! - seriously - neckbones, tripe, feet, etc) These are not so much cultural delicassies as much as they are FORCED dietary items. A Vicious Circle? What did Elvis say? Take a look at you and me, are we too blind to see?
Graceland grew from south Memphis - south Memphis did not grow from Graceland. Lisa Marie recorded a duet "with her dad" in August 07' of In The Ghetto to raise money for the Presley Charitable Foundation which caught a lot of shit from the "holier-than-thow" crowd because of it's depiction of toddler's with guns in the city. Toddlers with guns? Huh? Black teenage kids are killing each other in this city and they are toddlers in the eyes of g-d! Our eyes are not too blind to see, our souls are too dark to know. Do you have to know something to care about it? Or do we simply refuse to care?
As "white flight" began in our country (whites leaving the inner city for the suburbs) the FHA Mortgage Manual stated: "Recommended restrictions should include provision for: prohibition of the occupancy of properties except by the race for which they are intended …Schools should be appropriate to the needs of the new community and they should not be attended in large numbers by inharmonious racial groups." Nothing else needs to be said.
Use of the word ghetto is unacceptable! Unless we (white people) are describing our own souls...it is a white-ghetto-diaspora-of-the-soul.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
blind-man-ricky on the Orange Mound
I had a scheduled doctors appointment due to a request to change my Ambien and general check up issues. My doctors office is in a "less than fortunate" part of town, on Park, close to Getwell where the Memphis Gay Chamber of Commerce recently discussed "removing the riff-raff from the area"... HUH? I wanted to extend my hand in the air and say "huh, please repeat"!!!!!! Riff Raff?? That is such a CODE WORD for/from whitey refering to black and other-than white non-owning tenants anywhere around. Riff Raff? Is it 2009 or 1969?
As I ws driving down Park I noticed out of the corner of my eye this middle aged black man walking with a cane and using it in a manner as if he had some eyesight handicaps and didn't think much else about it until...
..."wooosshh, kabam" the front door to the doctors office slung open and there he was slumbering straight ahead into the corner walls in a part of the front office where nothing was, other than paneling and saying "hello everyone, it's a beautiful day ain't it!" I honestly had to put myself in check becasue I almost laughed. This guy had walked straight into the corner where two walls meet but it quickly dawned on me "he's really blind." I arose and said this way sir, took his arm and led him to the receptionist window and I returned to my seat and magazine.
A few minutes later the blind man finished with checking in and turned around and said "where's my new friend?" I replied "here sir" and before I could say anything else he had sat down beside me and asked if I minded if he joined me.
"Ricky's my name, blind man Ricky some call me" and stuck out his hand. We began talking about me seeing him walking on my way to the doctor's office, if the city provided special transportation services, if he was from Memphis, family close by, young "skiddles" as he called young people - "skiddle" meaning stupid kid - how blind he was, his government assistance, etc.
Ricky grew up close by and said he had not been out of the house in the last month because it had been so hot. He told me about trips to the Pink Palace, botanical gardens, the zoo, and described the splendor of the beautiful geese in flight around the ponds, the huge pine trees, and all the flowers. I at this point assumed he was partially blind and asked him about his sight. Blind man Ricky leaned his head back and gently put two fingers in his right eye and removed this thin piece of "something" that looked like an abbreviated eye, that had been "looking" at me a few minutes earlier in his eye socket, and said: "I lost this one in 82'" and then did the same thing to the one on the left and said "and I lost this one in 02'...glaucoma...I have diabetes...that's why I am here today becasue my legs is hurting me bad." He pulled up his pants and had these huge baseball to softball size lumps (two or three) at the bottom of both lages shortly above his ankles. I honestly thought to myself "HEALTHCARE REFORM - 20 YEARS OF LIES and this man will probably lose his legs due to poor healthcare in the next few years". First his eyes then his legs. A whole new approach to ethnic cleansing! I have no right to feel any self-pity!
His walking cane was a golf club with the "head" broken off and I asked him why he didn't use a regular walking cane for sight. He said he'd been through so many in the last year it ws just easier to buy the golf clubs at the goodwill. He was blind, very blind. Said he got $65 on the 13th and another $450 on the 31st of every month, lived in a subsidized apartment, lost too many canes to the "skiddles" who would grab them from his hands while walking, explained how he bought groceries. The truth was that his insurance would not pay for any more canes because of all the ones he'd lost to the cruel little delinquents.
I asked him if he got depressed when he lost his second eye and he said yes. Said he stayed on the couch for almost a year. Said he couldn't stand not seeing the sun, frogs in the road, birds on the wire, "skiddles" chasing the ball, grass, his food, his mama's face...on and on. I almost had to get up. Then my overly maternal doctor Sudha came for me. I told Ricky if he was still there when I got out I would "holler" at him.
Soon after entering the patient-examintaion-room, Ricky was taken to one of the rooms also. The entire time I sat there I could hear his voice across the office carrying on with the nurse, laughing, telling her she was beautiful, talking about how nice the day was, and how sweet the staff were in the office. He never complained...
When the doctor finished with me I asked a nurse (she was Indian as my doctor is and had fraternal twins whose birthday was the same as mine, July 25th but considerably younger - she said "the girl has the devil in her sometimes and the boy is as sweet as Buddha") in the front office if Ricky was still there becasue I had not heard his voice in a while...the office was full, maybe fifteen people. Ricky came slumbering (once again) from around the corner slinging his cane with a tourniquet still on his arm saying "I am here Mr. Steve, where are you?" This time I laughed and then he started doing the same and our overly maternal doctor Sudha grabbed his arm and told him "don't be so stupid and get back in the lab room to get the blood drawn." He laughed more and said "it hurts."
I waited on Ricky and gave him a ride home. He lived on Spottswood in a part of Memphis I never had seen and never really thought I would, around Semmes and South Greer, this is rough Memphis - Hustle And Flow type Memphis - in the heart of what is called Orange Mound. He could tell where we were in the car within 50 feet. Said he can sense everything by memory and was glad "I could see for the first years of my life." Ricky said he still goes to the lake at the botanical gardens, can hear birds chirping, can hear the "skiddles ball when they kick it...but I can't touch my mama's face no more...I see it in my head but it ain't the same." Ricky had guided me into the small complex where he lived, odd setting, kind of like "quad-plexes" or something, brick, pine woods to the north and seemingly quiet. Then I heard the train and realized his $150 a month government subsidized apartment was literally a couple hundred yards south of the freaking Memphis Country Club. Blind man Ricky put his hand out and said he hoped to see me again at the doctors office, laughed, and said "you know what I mean new friend". I told him that tomorrow was my birthday and meeting him was the best brithday present I could have received. As he stepped out of the car he turned toward me and said he wished he had some birthday cake for me and told me to have a nice day and said "welcome to Orange Mound brother."
As I ws driving down Park I noticed out of the corner of my eye this middle aged black man walking with a cane and using it in a manner as if he had some eyesight handicaps and didn't think much else about it until...
..."wooosshh, kabam" the front door to the doctors office slung open and there he was slumbering straight ahead into the corner walls in a part of the front office where nothing was, other than paneling and saying "hello everyone, it's a beautiful day ain't it!" I honestly had to put myself in check becasue I almost laughed. This guy had walked straight into the corner where two walls meet but it quickly dawned on me "he's really blind." I arose and said this way sir, took his arm and led him to the receptionist window and I returned to my seat and magazine.
A few minutes later the blind man finished with checking in and turned around and said "where's my new friend?" I replied "here sir" and before I could say anything else he had sat down beside me and asked if I minded if he joined me.
"Ricky's my name, blind man Ricky some call me" and stuck out his hand. We began talking about me seeing him walking on my way to the doctor's office, if the city provided special transportation services, if he was from Memphis, family close by, young "skiddles" as he called young people - "skiddle" meaning stupid kid - how blind he was, his government assistance, etc.
Ricky grew up close by and said he had not been out of the house in the last month because it had been so hot. He told me about trips to the Pink Palace, botanical gardens, the zoo, and described the splendor of the beautiful geese in flight around the ponds, the huge pine trees, and all the flowers. I at this point assumed he was partially blind and asked him about his sight. Blind man Ricky leaned his head back and gently put two fingers in his right eye and removed this thin piece of "something" that looked like an abbreviated eye, that had been "looking" at me a few minutes earlier in his eye socket, and said: "I lost this one in 82'" and then did the same thing to the one on the left and said "and I lost this one in 02'...glaucoma...I have diabetes...that's why I am here today becasue my legs is hurting me bad." He pulled up his pants and had these huge baseball to softball size lumps (two or three) at the bottom of both lages shortly above his ankles. I honestly thought to myself "HEALTHCARE REFORM - 20 YEARS OF LIES and this man will probably lose his legs due to poor healthcare in the next few years". First his eyes then his legs. A whole new approach to ethnic cleansing! I have no right to feel any self-pity!
His walking cane was a golf club with the "head" broken off and I asked him why he didn't use a regular walking cane for sight. He said he'd been through so many in the last year it ws just easier to buy the golf clubs at the goodwill. He was blind, very blind. Said he got $65 on the 13th and another $450 on the 31st of every month, lived in a subsidized apartment, lost too many canes to the "skiddles" who would grab them from his hands while walking, explained how he bought groceries. The truth was that his insurance would not pay for any more canes because of all the ones he'd lost to the cruel little delinquents.
I asked him if he got depressed when he lost his second eye and he said yes. Said he stayed on the couch for almost a year. Said he couldn't stand not seeing the sun, frogs in the road, birds on the wire, "skiddles" chasing the ball, grass, his food, his mama's face...on and on. I almost had to get up. Then my overly maternal doctor Sudha came for me. I told Ricky if he was still there when I got out I would "holler" at him.
Soon after entering the patient-examintaion-room, Ricky was taken to one of the rooms also. The entire time I sat there I could hear his voice across the office carrying on with the nurse, laughing, telling her she was beautiful, talking about how nice the day was, and how sweet the staff were in the office. He never complained...
When the doctor finished with me I asked a nurse (she was Indian as my doctor is and had fraternal twins whose birthday was the same as mine, July 25th but considerably younger - she said "the girl has the devil in her sometimes and the boy is as sweet as Buddha") in the front office if Ricky was still there becasue I had not heard his voice in a while...the office was full, maybe fifteen people. Ricky came slumbering (once again) from around the corner slinging his cane with a tourniquet still on his arm saying "I am here Mr. Steve, where are you?" This time I laughed and then he started doing the same and our overly maternal doctor Sudha grabbed his arm and told him "don't be so stupid and get back in the lab room to get the blood drawn." He laughed more and said "it hurts."
I waited on Ricky and gave him a ride home. He lived on Spottswood in a part of Memphis I never had seen and never really thought I would, around Semmes and South Greer, this is rough Memphis - Hustle And Flow type Memphis - in the heart of what is called Orange Mound. He could tell where we were in the car within 50 feet. Said he can sense everything by memory and was glad "I could see for the first years of my life." Ricky said he still goes to the lake at the botanical gardens, can hear birds chirping, can hear the "skiddles ball when they kick it...but I can't touch my mama's face no more...I see it in my head but it ain't the same." Ricky had guided me into the small complex where he lived, odd setting, kind of like "quad-plexes" or something, brick, pine woods to the north and seemingly quiet. Then I heard the train and realized his $150 a month government subsidized apartment was literally a couple hundred yards south of the freaking Memphis Country Club. Blind man Ricky put his hand out and said he hoped to see me again at the doctors office, laughed, and said "you know what I mean new friend". I told him that tomorrow was my birthday and meeting him was the best brithday present I could have received. As he stepped out of the car he turned toward me and said he wished he had some birthday cake for me and told me to have a nice day and said "welcome to Orange Mound brother."
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Happy 4th Of July - Welcome Back To Fallujah
It was a cold, wintry, dark February day with the ground well covered in snow that I sat in what I then called “cattle rooms” smoking cigarette after cigarette and reading the newspaper in the Cincinnati Airport. The news always seemed to go from grim to desperate… the promising Lebanese politician Rafik Harari was killed by a car bomb in Beirut, North Korea and Iran screamed that they had nuclear weapons, another suicide bomb detonated in Baghdad, gay groups were considering adopting intervention tactics to track men with HIV who engage in risky behavior (read that one again! Talk about Orwellian life), ETA detonated a bomb in Spain, Bush and his military advisors had no exit plan for Fallujah, on and freaking on…
Fallujah was one of Arab histories pearls for many years. It was quiet, peaceful, scholarly, hosted numerous Jewish academies through the centuries, and fared better than many other urban areas through the advent of Islam from the Abbasid and Umayyad dynasties to the modern day “re-conquesting inquisition” led by the neo-cons in Washington and their lavender bitches in London.
I looked up from the paper and in walked this beautiful Marine with my defacto standard: small, baby faced, smooth skin, and a hollow gaze. I would be lying if I denied any immediate carnal ideations but those were quickly quelled when the young Marine sat down next to me and asked if he could “bomb a smoke”. I told him gladly and we introduced ourselves.
Fallujah for years linked the trade route from the Nejd Province in modern day Sa’udi Arabia to the areas of Mosul and Aleppo and was known as the desert highway between Amman and Baghdad; it rested at a crossroads then and is once again at a crossroads as both Sunni and Shia Muslims have joined together to rebuild the 70-90% destruction that the city incurred from the US Military beginning in 03’.
“Names Adam, thanks for the smoke.” Adam was a 19 year old fresh faced kid raised in Chicago, was 100% mid-west, and was on his way home for a few days from Fallujah due to the graces of the US Department of Defense granting him a seven day hardship leave due to “stress and unnatural acts of violence perpetrated against a member of the United States Military” to see his mom and girlfriend. He said he couldn’t wait to put his eyes on Wrigley Field and hoped he somehow could get inside for a brief reprieve…said it would make everything “good to go.”
We talked about why he was in the Corps, my time in, his love-life, mine, our families, baseball, hockey, his plans after the Marine Corps… told him I was gay and thought he was gorgeous; he laughed and said he had a girlfriend back home he would be seeing and appreciated the compliment. He hated the snow and ice and thought the desert was cool but didn’t understand the problems in Fallujah.
The city always had an air of independence: the Imams refused to eulogize Saddam Hussein during his reign and suffered horrible persecution, the British saw it as a “hotbed” of instability in the early 20th Century and suffered through a battle because of it that left several thousand Iraqis and a couple thousand Brits dead, the Wahhibi Sect of Islam practiced in Sa’udi Arabia took root in Fallujah years ago and is still practiced to this day, a couple hundred citizens died in the city in the first Gulf War when a crowded market was “accidentally” bombed, a couple hundred citizens died in 03’ when they were protesting the US Military setting up an operating unit in an old Baath Party Office building across the street from a school and troops opened fire on the people. Still the city of almost 500,000 remained peaceful, quiet and cooperative until…
“…we don’t know what the fuck we are shooting at most of the time dude. The other day we took fire from a corner store and we unloaded on those mother fuckers. When we got to the store there was this little boy lying in the doorway and a lady behind him on the floor. It was weird, they both had multiple gunshot holes and there was some busted milk spreading out on the floor around her and the kid…looked kind of like a piece of peppermint candy because the blood had kind of swirled in to the milk. We never knew who fired on us.”
This was the city where those four renegade Blackwater gaurds were drug from their vehicles, beaten, burned, and then hanged from the girders’ of a bridge crossing the Euphrates. The assault on Fallujah began in earnest in November 2004 primarily as an attempt to regain control of it from the estimated 600-6,000 insurgents in preparation of the January 2005 national elections. The only person at the time who was viewed as a serious candidate for the office of presidency was Nouri Al-Maliki, a Shia Muslim who had for the past 20 years slept with Hezbollah, Iranian politicians, and various Shiite thugs while living in Syria and travelling back and forth to Iran… FALLUJAH IS SUNNI AND WAHHABI and many of the citizens had fled by this time. Did the US Government wish to ensure a sweeping victory in the city for al-Maliki? The insurgents weren’t even 1% of the population. Nation-state building is too nice; this was coup de tat orchestrating.
Adam said he wasn’t sure what to say to his mom…or his girlfriend. I asked him what he meant and he said “I don’t know what to fucking say man…how can I talk to them.” Adam obviously was a perfect example of how the DOD takes care of many PTSD combat troops – ship them home for a while and hope that it all goes away. The Marine said he might not make it to see his mom and girl and may instead take a quick flight from Chicago to Detroit to see a friend and just stay drunk for five days. By this time he was teary-eyed, shaken, and all I could think was that our land of the free and home of the brave were bringing home an entire generation of KIDS that were going to be perfectly fucked up.
My flight number was called and I stood up, threw my smokes to my new friend, told him to keep his head down and said “Semper Fi”; he stood up hugged me and responded with the same. As I walked back into the airport I couldn’t help but wonder if he would make it back home another time because his movement orders (paperwork a soldier will carry validating their dress or leave of absence) returned him directly to Fallujah in seven days.
The fighting in Fallujah ended for the most part in June of 2007 but today the citizens are being practically starved and living off of handouts from Marine units close by and the citizens blame that Iranian kisich Maliki, the Shi’ite Hezbollah-loving bitch. Prior to the cessation of conflict in the city US forces had given out Christian coins to the children at many of the cities crossroads.
Happy 4th of July Amerika.
Fallujah was one of Arab histories pearls for many years. It was quiet, peaceful, scholarly, hosted numerous Jewish academies through the centuries, and fared better than many other urban areas through the advent of Islam from the Abbasid and Umayyad dynasties to the modern day “re-conquesting inquisition” led by the neo-cons in Washington and their lavender bitches in London.
I looked up from the paper and in walked this beautiful Marine with my defacto standard: small, baby faced, smooth skin, and a hollow gaze. I would be lying if I denied any immediate carnal ideations but those were quickly quelled when the young Marine sat down next to me and asked if he could “bomb a smoke”. I told him gladly and we introduced ourselves.
Fallujah for years linked the trade route from the Nejd Province in modern day Sa’udi Arabia to the areas of Mosul and Aleppo and was known as the desert highway between Amman and Baghdad; it rested at a crossroads then and is once again at a crossroads as both Sunni and Shia Muslims have joined together to rebuild the 70-90% destruction that the city incurred from the US Military beginning in 03’.
“Names Adam, thanks for the smoke.” Adam was a 19 year old fresh faced kid raised in Chicago, was 100% mid-west, and was on his way home for a few days from Fallujah due to the graces of the US Department of Defense granting him a seven day hardship leave due to “stress and unnatural acts of violence perpetrated against a member of the United States Military” to see his mom and girlfriend. He said he couldn’t wait to put his eyes on Wrigley Field and hoped he somehow could get inside for a brief reprieve…said it would make everything “good to go.”
We talked about why he was in the Corps, my time in, his love-life, mine, our families, baseball, hockey, his plans after the Marine Corps… told him I was gay and thought he was gorgeous; he laughed and said he had a girlfriend back home he would be seeing and appreciated the compliment. He hated the snow and ice and thought the desert was cool but didn’t understand the problems in Fallujah.
The city always had an air of independence: the Imams refused to eulogize Saddam Hussein during his reign and suffered horrible persecution, the British saw it as a “hotbed” of instability in the early 20th Century and suffered through a battle because of it that left several thousand Iraqis and a couple thousand Brits dead, the Wahhibi Sect of Islam practiced in Sa’udi Arabia took root in Fallujah years ago and is still practiced to this day, a couple hundred citizens died in the city in the first Gulf War when a crowded market was “accidentally” bombed, a couple hundred citizens died in 03’ when they were protesting the US Military setting up an operating unit in an old Baath Party Office building across the street from a school and troops opened fire on the people. Still the city of almost 500,000 remained peaceful, quiet and cooperative until…
“…we don’t know what the fuck we are shooting at most of the time dude. The other day we took fire from a corner store and we unloaded on those mother fuckers. When we got to the store there was this little boy lying in the doorway and a lady behind him on the floor. It was weird, they both had multiple gunshot holes and there was some busted milk spreading out on the floor around her and the kid…looked kind of like a piece of peppermint candy because the blood had kind of swirled in to the milk. We never knew who fired on us.”
This was the city where those four renegade Blackwater gaurds were drug from their vehicles, beaten, burned, and then hanged from the girders’ of a bridge crossing the Euphrates. The assault on Fallujah began in earnest in November 2004 primarily as an attempt to regain control of it from the estimated 600-6,000 insurgents in preparation of the January 2005 national elections. The only person at the time who was viewed as a serious candidate for the office of presidency was Nouri Al-Maliki, a Shia Muslim who had for the past 20 years slept with Hezbollah, Iranian politicians, and various Shiite thugs while living in Syria and travelling back and forth to Iran… FALLUJAH IS SUNNI AND WAHHABI and many of the citizens had fled by this time. Did the US Government wish to ensure a sweeping victory in the city for al-Maliki? The insurgents weren’t even 1% of the population. Nation-state building is too nice; this was coup de tat orchestrating.
Adam said he wasn’t sure what to say to his mom…or his girlfriend. I asked him what he meant and he said “I don’t know what to fucking say man…how can I talk to them.” Adam obviously was a perfect example of how the DOD takes care of many PTSD combat troops – ship them home for a while and hope that it all goes away. The Marine said he might not make it to see his mom and girl and may instead take a quick flight from Chicago to Detroit to see a friend and just stay drunk for five days. By this time he was teary-eyed, shaken, and all I could think was that our land of the free and home of the brave were bringing home an entire generation of KIDS that were going to be perfectly fucked up.
My flight number was called and I stood up, threw my smokes to my new friend, told him to keep his head down and said “Semper Fi”; he stood up hugged me and responded with the same. As I walked back into the airport I couldn’t help but wonder if he would make it back home another time because his movement orders (paperwork a soldier will carry validating their dress or leave of absence) returned him directly to Fallujah in seven days.
The fighting in Fallujah ended for the most part in June of 2007 but today the citizens are being practically starved and living off of handouts from Marine units close by and the citizens blame that Iranian kisich Maliki, the Shi’ite Hezbollah-loving bitch. Prior to the cessation of conflict in the city US forces had given out Christian coins to the children at many of the cities crossroads.
Happy 4th of July Amerika.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
The Jew Under The Lotus
So I have been thinking a lot lately about when I “came out”, gays, the so-called gay community, A-Lister gays, faerie gays, the Palestinians, the West Bank,Gaza, Golan, Baghdad, Beirut, Southern Lebanon, Bashir Assad in Syria, Afghanistan, Opium, Heroin, China, Jane Goodall, Lewis Leakey, Olduvai Gorge, Lucy, Sudan, Rwanda, Nepal, India, Pakistan, the Dalai Lama…and wonder where it all stops.
I first came out when I awoke that sultry Alabama summer day with my eleven year old BVD’s splattered with some creamy shit around the piss trap and thought I was dying…then I remembered this unbelievable feeling that I experienced a few minutes before in both my groin and head and remembered that I was feeling up my younger neighbor’s ass and inside thighs as he climbed up a concrete wall in the drainage ditch. As I removed my underwear I whispered to myself “Johan”. He was so beautiful and I had a crush on him until I graduated from high school.
I first came out at my friend Robbie’s sleepover when I went to the bathroom and could not understand why I was so engrossed in the remaining drops of piss left by him on the ring of the toilet.
I first came out when a family friend who was attempting to live a life of religious celibacy asked me up to his room to show me the L&N train set he had and then offered me a miniature caboose he made with my name on it.
I first came out when my mother’s pussy dilated a little too much and I weighed a whopping four pounds and a couple ounces as I entered this kingdom.
I first came out when I watched the space shuttle Colombia explode in the sky like a giant dick relieving itself of years of pent up frustration and pain…but then it became serious.
I first came out when I realized at ten that the Leif Garrett album covers sucked me in for only one reason…those TIGHT white pants and his beautiful face.
I first came out when my grandfathers died within a few months of each other and realized for the first time I had lost some pure innocence in my life.
I first came out when I watched Elvis' Cadillac meander up Union Ave while asking my mother where Graceland was and telling her I wanted to be there.
I first came out when the rounds began falling around me in northern Kuwait as I began entreating upon Mary, Jesus, Muhammad, Allah, G-d, Buddha, and Krishna, promising them all that if I lived I would no longer play charades with my life…
…I loved southern Iraq and Kuwait and first came out a few months later while eating Baskin & Robbins ice cream under a date palm grove outside of Kuwait City. My unit was given an eight hour reprieve to visit an Olympic sized pool with volleyball nets and all types of recreation that obviously was built for foreign oil workers. I was lieing on my stomach as this small group of British soldiers squeezed in and began removing their “cammies”. They all were wearing speedos and before I realized it I was zoned in on one particular beauty – dark hair, dark eyes, smooth skin - my dick became more painful when I realized I was lying on top of my own hard-on that was practically lifting me up. I quickly began thinking of some jerk-off Iraqis blood splattered on my face a few days before and got up with a limp dick to get a snow cone at the refreshment stand. As I took my change from some Indian guy sold into servitude to the Kuwaitis or Saudis my hand slightly smacked someone in the balls as it became rested back to my side. I looked up and attempted to say excuse me and it was that British beauty from earlier and he said with a smirk “oh it’s quite alright mate” and I ran.
That evening I walked up to the little compound/bazaar the size of four to five football fields enclosed by a fourteen foot concrete wall and walked past the Kentucky Fried Chicken, Pizza Hut, McDonalds… of which all were Halal, and decided on the Baskin & Robbins. I figured it was goat milk ice cream which sounded nice to me…cream once again. The line was unbelievable. I didn’t know Arabs loved Baskin & Robbins so much and could not help but enjoy the wonderful scenery of all the young Arabs wearing their thobes and the subtle yet very erotic outlines of every curve on their bodies…including their warmly welcoming manhood.
I retrieved my ice cream and walked to a small grove of date palm trees in front of these abandoned oil worker dormitory style apartments and began thinking back to the date shakes my grandma made me when I was a child that had a taste and flavor uncomparable to this day and my B&R serving began tasting the same. My daydreaming soon turned to disappointment when it appeared someone was walking my way and I figured it was some Arab wishing to engage in simple conversation or one who was sent by Muhammad to move me away from his property because I was an Infidel and then realized it was neither. The person appeared to walk in a “western” manner and it soon became obvious it was a soldier with a personal weapon slung over his shoulder and in fatigues. I sat up and choked on my ice cream which I never thought was possible and have not experienced that to this day when I realized it was the British beauty from the pool.
We introduced ourselves, traded recent combat stories, spoke of the heat, explored what would happen to Saddam Hussein, ruminated about TE Lawrence and then his hand began caressing my thigh and before I knew it I was being led by David to the abandoned building behind us. We began kissing, probing, groping, touching and whatever else goes on as soon as we found a door that would open. He found my gay virginity funny and told me he would be gentle. Before I knew it we were in one of the rooms showers and my dick had slid into his glory as if I had done it a thousand and one times before.
I first came out with Muhammad and the Seven Pillars of Islam on my mind and felt like I was Johnathan comforting David and have been under the Lotus ever since.
I first came out when I awoke that sultry Alabama summer day with my eleven year old BVD’s splattered with some creamy shit around the piss trap and thought I was dying…then I remembered this unbelievable feeling that I experienced a few minutes before in both my groin and head and remembered that I was feeling up my younger neighbor’s ass and inside thighs as he climbed up a concrete wall in the drainage ditch. As I removed my underwear I whispered to myself “Johan”. He was so beautiful and I had a crush on him until I graduated from high school.
I first came out at my friend Robbie’s sleepover when I went to the bathroom and could not understand why I was so engrossed in the remaining drops of piss left by him on the ring of the toilet.
I first came out when a family friend who was attempting to live a life of religious celibacy asked me up to his room to show me the L&N train set he had and then offered me a miniature caboose he made with my name on it.
I first came out when my mother’s pussy dilated a little too much and I weighed a whopping four pounds and a couple ounces as I entered this kingdom.
I first came out when I watched the space shuttle Colombia explode in the sky like a giant dick relieving itself of years of pent up frustration and pain…but then it became serious.
I first came out when I realized at ten that the Leif Garrett album covers sucked me in for only one reason…those TIGHT white pants and his beautiful face.
I first came out when my grandfathers died within a few months of each other and realized for the first time I had lost some pure innocence in my life.
I first came out when I watched Elvis' Cadillac meander up Union Ave while asking my mother where Graceland was and telling her I wanted to be there.
I first came out when the rounds began falling around me in northern Kuwait as I began entreating upon Mary, Jesus, Muhammad, Allah, G-d, Buddha, and Krishna, promising them all that if I lived I would no longer play charades with my life…
…I loved southern Iraq and Kuwait and first came out a few months later while eating Baskin & Robbins ice cream under a date palm grove outside of Kuwait City. My unit was given an eight hour reprieve to visit an Olympic sized pool with volleyball nets and all types of recreation that obviously was built for foreign oil workers. I was lieing on my stomach as this small group of British soldiers squeezed in and began removing their “cammies”. They all were wearing speedos and before I realized it I was zoned in on one particular beauty – dark hair, dark eyes, smooth skin - my dick became more painful when I realized I was lying on top of my own hard-on that was practically lifting me up. I quickly began thinking of some jerk-off Iraqis blood splattered on my face a few days before and got up with a limp dick to get a snow cone at the refreshment stand. As I took my change from some Indian guy sold into servitude to the Kuwaitis or Saudis my hand slightly smacked someone in the balls as it became rested back to my side. I looked up and attempted to say excuse me and it was that British beauty from earlier and he said with a smirk “oh it’s quite alright mate” and I ran.
That evening I walked up to the little compound/bazaar the size of four to five football fields enclosed by a fourteen foot concrete wall and walked past the Kentucky Fried Chicken, Pizza Hut, McDonalds… of which all were Halal, and decided on the Baskin & Robbins. I figured it was goat milk ice cream which sounded nice to me…cream once again. The line was unbelievable. I didn’t know Arabs loved Baskin & Robbins so much and could not help but enjoy the wonderful scenery of all the young Arabs wearing their thobes and the subtle yet very erotic outlines of every curve on their bodies…including their warmly welcoming manhood.
I retrieved my ice cream and walked to a small grove of date palm trees in front of these abandoned oil worker dormitory style apartments and began thinking back to the date shakes my grandma made me when I was a child that had a taste and flavor uncomparable to this day and my B&R serving began tasting the same. My daydreaming soon turned to disappointment when it appeared someone was walking my way and I figured it was some Arab wishing to engage in simple conversation or one who was sent by Muhammad to move me away from his property because I was an Infidel and then realized it was neither. The person appeared to walk in a “western” manner and it soon became obvious it was a soldier with a personal weapon slung over his shoulder and in fatigues. I sat up and choked on my ice cream which I never thought was possible and have not experienced that to this day when I realized it was the British beauty from the pool.
We introduced ourselves, traded recent combat stories, spoke of the heat, explored what would happen to Saddam Hussein, ruminated about TE Lawrence and then his hand began caressing my thigh and before I knew it I was being led by David to the abandoned building behind us. We began kissing, probing, groping, touching and whatever else goes on as soon as we found a door that would open. He found my gay virginity funny and told me he would be gentle. Before I knew it we were in one of the rooms showers and my dick had slid into his glory as if I had done it a thousand and one times before.
I first came out with Muhammad and the Seven Pillars of Islam on my mind and felt like I was Johnathan comforting David and have been under the Lotus ever since.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Pirates on Somali Shores & Fox News
Alright, I usually enjoy watching all of the Sunday morning news shows starting with CBS Sunday Morning and close it out with This Week With George Stephanopolous and even includes Fox News Sunday...but not anymore. Today was the beginning of the end of my viewing of those idiot fucking nazi Christians and Christian "wanna-bes" on Fox Sunday. This actually breaks my heart and is one more thing thrown into the mix of my getting older grieiving for lost ideas becasue Chris Wallace has always rode on his father's coat tails (Mike Wallace) when it comes to admiration and respect, NOT ANYMORE!
The entire panel said that the Somali pirating is the true Obama Administration test and he must go into Somalia militarily and eradicate the pirates land bases of operations. Huh? What did Father Cristol say? What did Brother Juan mumble? What was that you asked your daddy Chris?
Forgive me if I am wrong but I do not think all of the pirating that has been occuring started within the last 120 days! There are people still being held captive by Somali pirates that were taken a year ago. Who was in the Whitehouse then???? The Republicooks! Geez, give me a break.
Also, they all were berating President Obama for still talking about GW Bush. Again, HUH? How can he/we not be talking about the Bush years when most of what we have to undertake as a nation right now is becasue of that fools failed narcissistic policies and command!
Take note Fox News: You are banished from my head! Removed from all of my thoughts and my eyes have been warned that they will be plucked from my head if they ever lay sight on your right wing idiosyncratic zenophobic nazi bull shit ever again.
Happy Easter Christians...I hope the lions were kind and your moshiach visited.
The entire panel said that the Somali pirating is the true Obama Administration test and he must go into Somalia militarily and eradicate the pirates land bases of operations. Huh? What did Father Cristol say? What did Brother Juan mumble? What was that you asked your daddy Chris?
Forgive me if I am wrong but I do not think all of the pirating that has been occuring started within the last 120 days! There are people still being held captive by Somali pirates that were taken a year ago. Who was in the Whitehouse then???? The Republicooks! Geez, give me a break.
Also, they all were berating President Obama for still talking about GW Bush. Again, HUH? How can he/we not be talking about the Bush years when most of what we have to undertake as a nation right now is becasue of that fools failed narcissistic policies and command!
Take note Fox News: You are banished from my head! Removed from all of my thoughts and my eyes have been warned that they will be plucked from my head if they ever lay sight on your right wing idiosyncratic zenophobic nazi bull shit ever again.
Happy Easter Christians...I hope the lions were kind and your moshiach visited.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Hannukuh Harry & The Schwindling Sedar
OK so my first question is what happened to Sarbanes-Oxley and it's requirement that "the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) implement rulings on requirements to comply with the law"? I know, it was intended for those dry and sometimes stinky-english-rose-smelling accountants but if you read the papers or purview much streaming media these days you will notice that under the Neo-Cons the SEC was nothing more than a castrated snake in the disguise of a white middle-aged college educated Christian! Oh wait, is that not what ALL white middle aged christian men in "finance" are, SNAKES? So where does my brother Bernard MADoff fall? Brother? Brother like Cain to Abel, Esau to Jacob, Ishmael to Isaac...Arab to Jew! Well, maybe not that extreme. I am sure sweet Bernie's house will be clean of all chametz and eat only Matzoh in a few weeks at Passover because he probably still pays some poor lady from Guadalupe $3 a day to clean his condo and make sure his holiday food is kashrut. Snake, Jewish snake, what a pity but redemption is possible, I will post the Lubavitch prayer line for Yom Kippur Mr. Madoff and we expect a few million dollars to go to Chabad Houses in the Southeastern US so we can continue converting their lost souls.
Where can we start with this G-d forbidden mess? Lives have been destroyed in their "golden years", elderly citizens and retirees who worked honestly and more than ethically have lost everything...who will repay? Young single-parent families who "squeeked by" at the loan office got that house loan and continued working 55 hours a week for minimum wage lost everything...who will repay? Ill-informed single parent moms renewed mortgages on the houses that their lame ass wet dick husbands gave up to them at the "courts" behest becasue of their infidelity, refinanced their mortgages and included one too many unsecured bills and found their house belonging to Chase with no where to go...who will repay? An 18 year old beautiful high-school senior died en route between the local prized Baptist hospital and the county medical center from an Asthma attack because his dad lost his job and health benefits three months ago...who will repay?
No one can repay nor should they. The bleeding has to stop now and I suggest it unfold in the following manner:
Sometimes I am afraid it all began a little over eight years ago on that beautiful Fall morning Sept. 11 2001. The seeds had already been sewn for some financial demise but not the rampant implosion that has occurred since then. I sometimes think that after 9-11 that many of the rightful needs to follow up and investigate rogue transactions and securities issues that our various governmental agencies - the SEC, the Public Company Accounting Oversight Board, and other governmental agencies - became so stifled due to our countries stewards obsession with business as usual and maintaining a portrayal of normalcy that what fell in place was this sick neo-con quid pro quo way of getting in low in the mornig and out high in the afternoon.
We all fell into the trap. Our latest clothes, car buys, bling-bling wraps, we raffled our kids student loans off and they weren't even finished with their sophomore year, we signed off on our employers raffling of our health benefits outsourced to a third party in India...every freaking year! We didn't ask when a new no name securities firm sent us letters stating they just purchased our home mortgage. Then they offered us a second mortgage with lower payments and some really nifty little hidden agendas that helped them "get rich fast". We all became day traders and were playing the shorts for a long time, eventhough a lot of us have no clue what that means.
The Neo-Cons regulated and de-regulated whetever they wished to at will and we the people went along with it. This was hedonism at it's prime and possibly the time where the guf is empty and no souls are emanating from it any more. We all turned into a bunch of incestuous Romans lieing around eating fresh fruit matured off of growth hormones and antibiotics not yet approved by the FDA and sexually molested the little Aztec kids who harvested the produce for us. Now that the crops will not yield any edible portions we cannot figure out what the problem is...G-d, call in the EPA, FDA, FEMA, FHA, SEC. We look like the cosmopolitan crowd soon-to-be-christian / pagan revellers adjuring Pontius Pilate to crucify that Jesus. Oh wait, you have been comforted all this time by being told that it was the dirty Jews who crucified that Jesus, sorry, but it wasn't. It was those stinky fish smelling Turks, Romans, Syrians & Assyrians.
My suggestion to solve this mess: GLoBAL IMmUNiTY. Every banker, institution, fund, prior administration member, and citizen should be granted full immunity from any recourse from wrong-doing that may arise from the past 10 years of DTM (day trading mentaltiy) and offer the following cushion to those stupid homeowners that bought beyond their means: forgive all loans in arrears within a six month default or foreclosed status...if the payments were delinquent within only six months then the new banking loans should open up access to money for those people to get their payments back in order and enact a national six month forebearance law for these people so they can immediately begin payments up to date...the freaking banks will not lose anything but interest for a few months and in some cases may be able to work out a reduced payment or say a revised principal premium for six months.
Sarbanes-Oxley only removed the onus of accountability from the true bean counters onto individuals far removed from his books...some lowly guy working in a warehouse thousands of miles away required to quarterly validate that he has done specific requirements with the SOX standards and have on hand so if some jolly-jocker from Ernst & Young shows up he can authenticate his audit.
So, wipe it all clean President Obama. Approach it like major league baseball and the cycling federation - from this day forward any slick attempting to so much misappropriate or misrepresent a pencil will have hell to pay...whether he works for the SEC or on Wall Street. Forgive them, let it be....but carry a heavy stick from this day forward.
Bernie, you set the cup out for Elijah and I'll bring the Manishevitz!
This is why I am glad I am a Socialist.
Where can we start with this G-d forbidden mess? Lives have been destroyed in their "golden years", elderly citizens and retirees who worked honestly and more than ethically have lost everything...who will repay? Young single-parent families who "squeeked by" at the loan office got that house loan and continued working 55 hours a week for minimum wage lost everything...who will repay? Ill-informed single parent moms renewed mortgages on the houses that their lame ass wet dick husbands gave up to them at the "courts" behest becasue of their infidelity, refinanced their mortgages and included one too many unsecured bills and found their house belonging to Chase with no where to go...who will repay? An 18 year old beautiful high-school senior died en route between the local prized Baptist hospital and the county medical center from an Asthma attack because his dad lost his job and health benefits three months ago...who will repay?
No one can repay nor should they. The bleeding has to stop now and I suggest it unfold in the following manner:
Sometimes I am afraid it all began a little over eight years ago on that beautiful Fall morning Sept. 11 2001. The seeds had already been sewn for some financial demise but not the rampant implosion that has occurred since then. I sometimes think that after 9-11 that many of the rightful needs to follow up and investigate rogue transactions and securities issues that our various governmental agencies - the SEC, the Public Company Accounting Oversight Board, and other governmental agencies - became so stifled due to our countries stewards obsession with business as usual and maintaining a portrayal of normalcy that what fell in place was this sick neo-con quid pro quo way of getting in low in the mornig and out high in the afternoon.
We all fell into the trap. Our latest clothes, car buys, bling-bling wraps, we raffled our kids student loans off and they weren't even finished with their sophomore year, we signed off on our employers raffling of our health benefits outsourced to a third party in India...every freaking year! We didn't ask when a new no name securities firm sent us letters stating they just purchased our home mortgage. Then they offered us a second mortgage with lower payments and some really nifty little hidden agendas that helped them "get rich fast". We all became day traders and were playing the shorts for a long time, eventhough a lot of us have no clue what that means.
The Neo-Cons regulated and de-regulated whetever they wished to at will and we the people went along with it. This was hedonism at it's prime and possibly the time where the guf is empty and no souls are emanating from it any more. We all turned into a bunch of incestuous Romans lieing around eating fresh fruit matured off of growth hormones and antibiotics not yet approved by the FDA and sexually molested the little Aztec kids who harvested the produce for us. Now that the crops will not yield any edible portions we cannot figure out what the problem is...G-d, call in the EPA, FDA, FEMA, FHA, SEC. We look like the cosmopolitan crowd soon-to-be-christian / pagan revellers adjuring Pontius Pilate to crucify that Jesus. Oh wait, you have been comforted all this time by being told that it was the dirty Jews who crucified that Jesus, sorry, but it wasn't. It was those stinky fish smelling Turks, Romans, Syrians & Assyrians.
My suggestion to solve this mess: GLoBAL IMmUNiTY. Every banker, institution, fund, prior administration member, and citizen should be granted full immunity from any recourse from wrong-doing that may arise from the past 10 years of DTM (day trading mentaltiy) and offer the following cushion to those stupid homeowners that bought beyond their means: forgive all loans in arrears within a six month default or foreclosed status...if the payments were delinquent within only six months then the new banking loans should open up access to money for those people to get their payments back in order and enact a national six month forebearance law for these people so they can immediately begin payments up to date...the freaking banks will not lose anything but interest for a few months and in some cases may be able to work out a reduced payment or say a revised principal premium for six months.
Sarbanes-Oxley only removed the onus of accountability from the true bean counters onto individuals far removed from his books...some lowly guy working in a warehouse thousands of miles away required to quarterly validate that he has done specific requirements with the SOX standards and have on hand so if some jolly-jocker from Ernst & Young shows up he can authenticate his audit.
So, wipe it all clean President Obama. Approach it like major league baseball and the cycling federation - from this day forward any slick attempting to so much misappropriate or misrepresent a pencil will have hell to pay...whether he works for the SEC or on Wall Street. Forgive them, let it be....but carry a heavy stick from this day forward.
Bernie, you set the cup out for Elijah and I'll bring the Manishevitz!
This is why I am glad I am a Socialist.
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