Saturday, July 26, 2014

Random Thoughts and Pointed Anger

I'm annoyed on many fronts, infuriated on several more, so this is gonna be one of those pot pourer thingies. To preface, I have bile in my bladder, and hate, burning, like a thousand million very vigorous exothermic reactions, in my molybdenum.

- Its been a great year for Lil' Waynie LaLil'Peter, so many many pointless deaths! So many goddam lunatics!
I'll say these things out loud again. Stringent, stringent licensing for carry of any sort - basically, if you feel a need to carry a gun, you should not ever have a carry permit. Serious reform of the police, including firing and confiscating the weapons of about 85% of the cops extant. Pay the good cops what they're worth. All confiscated weapons should immediately go to the nearest smelter. Close the gun shows...period. I'm fucking tired of the penis replacements. A guy in Minnesota ambushed his neighbor because she yelled at him for riding his mower on her lawn, she survived. But the excuse given is that he had PTSD. "Well, paleo, what are you gonna do?" Hmmm.

Please to kindly fasten seatbelt before driving off the cliff. I don't need to see any last minute gymnastics.

- The radio announcer for newsbreaks @JimMiklaszewski , known for bloody horrible jokes-
"And now there is a new way to wipe your ass! Yes, that's right, a carwash designed for donkeys has just opened..." 
must be fed to ravenous ducks, then nuked from orbit, but he did not touch this dumb person. A radio announcer from an internet station said 
(para) "the tree in Griffith Park, Los Angerless, dedicated to former Beatle George Harrison has been guffaw chuckle snort pees self eaten by beetles! Whocouldanode! Oh the irony! Oh the humanity!" dies
Shut up. Trees eaten by beetles? You've just described half of life in the Twin Cities. Its a big circle. The beetles eat the trees, the trees die, the city replants the trees, my dog eats the trees. Please note please, the Beatles were not playing amateur ornithopterists when they came up with their name, they were making a play off of Buddy Holly and the Crickets.

- By the way, George Harrison is the second greatest former Beatle, based solely on 

Listen now please.
Greatest former Beatle? Ringo. Full stop, I'm right, bugger off. While Paul was writing 'Liverpool Oratorio' , Ringo was touring with Joe Walsh. While John Lennon was in a 5 year alcoholic haze before giving half of his comeback album to Yoko Ono, Ringo was in "Caveman". Ringo always remembers it's just rock and roll, have fun and give thanks you can have a career where you can have fun. And 

is awesome.
(Also, Yoko Ono is awesome. Loves me some Yoko. She does not give a flying dammit what anyone, including me thinks of her. She can't fucking sing. She doesn't care about my opinion. Swoon!)

- I listen to a lot of podcasts, and have recently found and listened to Clyde Lewis, Portland OR radio/internet presence. Think Alex Jones without the permanent aneurysm and with a sense of humor. I know, me, right? Loves me some weirdness. I can peel through the eps to avoid the 'faked moon landing' stuff. About six months ago, he babbled about the Hollywood Sex Magick Underground, Miley Cyrus as the Trickster devil baby panda sidecar burrito, acid and sacrifice. I call it Tuesday. He is worried about the resurgence of the Satanic Panic. Ummm.
There was a real Satanic Panic in the 70's and 80's, and it wasn't about consenting adults, twerking, snorfing down every powder in sight, wiring their lesbionic accessories to the nearest 480V outlet. Real people got hurt, by cops and prosecutors seeing a sexy way to drum up business and budgets, by people looking for answers in tragedies with no answers, by worthless preachers using the threat of SATAN to protect children from thinking. People spent time in prison because prosecutors and psychologists manipulated children. Actual cases of child abuse were not enough - now there had to be baby sacrifice. Ignoring the wave of babies not being kidnapped. Pat Pulling and Bothered About Dungeons and DragonsI feel bad for her kid, feel bad for the obvious problems she had. My parents were bothered about D&D, primarily the part where I would disappear Friday at about 7pm and show up Sunday for church. We became experts at casting one spell - Repel Chicks. Goddamit, lady person, we were just little frakkin nerds, for Sauron's sake.
I apologize for this.
So Clyde, don't pretend that a bunch of Hollywood idiots playing as if they were the London Hellfire Club are any sort of trend towards armegeddon. Hell, I loves me some Miley Cyrus - she wins the Golden Troll forevah. Not especially curious about her latest chart-topper but wevs. Have fun, Miles!

(Oh, and Kennedy? I take the position of Bill Hicks, when he explained why people can't go up to the window of the Texas Book Depository Assassination Museum - because you'll look out the window and "THERE'S NO FUCKING WAY!" Oswald was very likely involved in some manner...and a patsy, and debateable as to whether he was the actual killer.)

- Its been in the 80's for the last few weeks. "Oooh, paleo what a beautiful day-y-y." 
Shut up. 80 is the gate to hell. 80.1 is hell, and the metaphorical representation of evil, who I treat much like I treat the metaphorical symbol of good, to pick a word, ummm, so much bullshit, is ramming the nearest pitchfork into your nearest available nipple. Which, you know, whatever floats yer boat. 80 does not float mine. When I take over as the metaphorical symbol of good, 55degF every goddamn day.

- Speaking of the 80's, and radio up above, I'd been on a metal shift for a few weeks, courtesy of a Twilter friend. (caution- loud, angry, cool)

Then a certain young dead friend threw me back into the young paleo days. SO I've been listening to what is laughingly called oldies radio a bit, reaching for the good:

within the huge amount of dreck.
(Imagine I have put an Eagles link here. I will not because I really respect you. You are not like those others.)
But, one point I must reiterate. The Eagles are a good band, technically proficient, well produced, and certainly like many people I've heard a lot of them. But please. Stop. No more 'Life In The Fast Lane'. No more Reelin' In the Years'. Strangle 'Stairway to Heaven'. There is a lot of music out there, qualifying as oldies/classic rock. (Poison is neither, KOOL 108 Twin Cities. Shut up.) Try 'Seven Bridges Road' or anything from when the Eagles were aping Gram Parsons. Try 'Bad Sneakers'. If you want long Led Zeppelin, try:

- Hell with it. Ta.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Frothing Bullet Eruption Is My Rebecca Black Cover Band Name

I've had a hard time following/commenting on politics lately. Not that I haven't, I've compared politicians to offal and teabaggers to tripe many times in the last few 46 years. But I'm having a hard time keeping perspective, or any sense of humor about it.

Hobby Lobby. Let's Sue The President For The Same Shit President Drooler And Vice President Shooter Did A Thousand Times. How Many Smokie Link Sized Republican Cocks Can Luke Russert Fit In His Orifi At Once. Has Governor Half Term Finally Boned The Shark. Murrieta. The last one will make another appearance

I'm a proud freak, a genuine weirdo. I believe in Bigfoot. I believe in ghosties. Not all people reporting UFOs are hallucinating or mistaken. I also believe in science. How many earthquakes must occur in Oklahoma before the inbred populace picks up on the fact that Grannie Erma is less interested in sex than she was before, and also she fell down a 500 ft. sinkhole, and oh, hey, there is a fracking operation on our patio, they paid me $49.95 for the rights and fuck you, commie.

Why do I juxtapose crypto-science and mainstream science?

The freak in me thinks mainstream scientists can be arrogant and pig-headed, and would not risk their precious reputations on the study of anything not already proven to exist. The scientist in me thinks most crypto-researchers have difficulty with the scientific method. In both cases, I am right. The two camps vociferously disagree with one another, and yet...

Bill Nye, the Science Guy, who I sacrifice a bull to daily, gave time to Ken Ham to debate whether Adam and Eve and their, for no particularly good reason, incredibly genetically diverse offspring rode a stegosaurus to the apple tree. (Note: They didn't.) Stephen Hawking has yet to mount an RPG to The Captain's Chair and go 'reason' with Lord Viscount Monckton. (Although, Dr. Hawking, we would make a fortune on PPView. I'll only take 60%. Productions fees and such. Stuff.) Although I've never met the men, as portrayed on TV, Matt Moneymaker (Finding Bigfoot) and Zak Bagens (Ghost Adventures) are complete doofi and go a long way to making the crypto-scientists look foolish.

I have yet to stalk Moneymaker with a silver bullet, or wire the Ed Hardy aisle at the Target where I suspect Bagans spends all the money to 13.8kV. There are shouting matches at conferences. There are, after 5 or 36 beers, shoving matches at conferences.


Now. politics. And in the news, the central American child refugee crisis.

Sweet FSM, but the RWNJ's have completely lost their shit. The children, refugees under a Bush era law, and just looking to get to live someplace with fewer gunshots (boy, did they go the wrong direction), need food, water, social workers. What do they get instead?

"Oh, but paleo, with modern cameras, they can do 17,000 exposures per second, and then some liberal picked out the worst ones. Like when Michele Bachmann's eyes rolled back in her head eating a corndog, realizing she hadn't deep-throated anything of this particular shape since high school. And when Marcus Bachmann's eyes rolled back in his head when eating a corndog, realizing he hadn't deep-throated anything of this particular shape since Tuesday."

You know what, imaginary right-wing screwhead, you're right. And so this may be exposure 17,000,

but 1/17,000 of a second earlier, she was hugging the children, and 1/17,000 of a second later, she had adopted a busload and taken them to her strawberry farm for reasons. (Oh, and lady, I ain'tn't certain, I don't know you, and I suspect I would endure greater joy taking a golf-ball to the yarbles than to decipher your HTea-ML, but your kids are snacking on McNuggets, playing Mario Brothers 17 - Jesus Slays the Turtles, and are scheduled for a measles party Saturday night. The refugee children have been vaccinated and WALKED ACROSS FUCKING MEXICO. To hell with your water-headed cabbages, dear.)

There are folks in Michigan, otherwise known as Alabama with snow, home of Ted Nugent, who it must be pointed out is about 18months off on his predictionalizing, who have proposed mining the border. You know what, you hookers, let's see how goddam serious you are about protecting your borders. Take out the Ambassador Bridge to Windsor, Ont. 

What, what's the difference, they's all furriners ain't they's? Thought so. Fornicate yourself.

Humanity sucks, kids. 

That's why I prefer reading about Bigfoot to the attempt to analyse most people. Plus I get less stabby, and Sweetie has informed me many times she prefers not to be a prisoner's wife.

Meh, I'm about a quarter drunk, the doggeh needs his walk yet, and I have to wake up in about several fewer hours. Just, where'd we go wrong as a species? Is the theory of devolution ahead of its time?

Monday, July 7, 2014

Luxury, We'd Have Been Thrilled For An Armageddon Level Event

I've never had any particular fear of flying my freak flag.

I believe in ghosts. Bigfeets. UFOs.

To be consistent, I suppose I must allow for the possibility of some Prime Mover of the universe. It may not be turtles all the way down. To be truly honest, cuz' I iz a geek I'd prefer the Norse pantheon, but I'm drifting off point.

The possibility of a Prime Mover then must allow the, now slimmer, possibility of The Bearded Sky Daddy (TM), watching us, protecting us, keeping video of the better masturbation sessions. This is less likely, to my mind, reasoning that if he is protecting and judging us, and choosing heaven versus hell, to read the stories and to see the world as it is, he is a capricious bastard who sucks at his job. Not to mention, any heaven/hell based, eternal reward/eternal fire type of faith denies free will, when you break it down to the quark level, and I refuse, I have my own damn free will, make my own decisions, take responsibility, to the best of my ability, for them.

Jesus? The Red Words are actually nifty, seriously, Jesus in and of his own bad self, as written and quoted, was kinda nifty, but I defy you to find one Real True Christian who has ever read the Red or who has taken them to heart. Whoops, found a point.

I do not believe in Religion (TM). As a whole, religion has never been able to balance the scales by doing enough good to counteract the evil of their very existence.

Some religions do help a bit, pass out food and clothing without prozelytizing.

Some religions build new palaces.

Pope Frank talks the talk, and appears to be trying to walk the walk. (BTW, Mr. Pope, triple your security. Please. I'm somewhat inclined to like you. No more Benedicts.)

Pope Clarence Antonin Anthony Sammybaby Roberts has a misogyny issue. (Does we needz a link? Read any newspaper from last week.) A bit. And a believing science issue. A bit. And fuck the poors, by the way, if they have a problem, they should buy their own Justices. Bicthez.

Once upon a time, I went to a Unitarian church. It didn't stick, but for the winter celebration the opening song was from Bruce Cockburn.

Sweetie and I actually joined a Catholic Church to get married. Primarily for the parents, but we were not trying to use them, we joined in good faith. The only fondness I had from church as a child was as a community-type thingy. Then Mr. Priest, upon finding out Sweetie's first husband was muslim, didn't react well or appropriately. Then, Mr. Archbishop Nienstadt, a true walking collection of yeast infection, took money from the coffers to build homeless shelters fight like a rabid amphibian against marriage equality in MN. Bye, oh high and mighty melonheaded bastards.

Things are a touch weighted in one direction, is what Imma saying. Not the good one.

Can we get past this?

Faith is faith, and good on ya if you have it in whatever. I have my beliefs, and I sleep okay. But these organizations are a touch less than useful, and a touch more than criminal fuckers.


Sunday, July 6, 2014

Life In The House Of paleo

So, it's been a few months.

First week of May, Sweetie had a knee replacement.

She'd been in pain for about 4 years, starting when she had some arthroscopic surgery to trim cartilage. I myself am convinced that this whole mess began because she was not given physical therapy after this first knee. She then favored that knee until the second was wrecked, needing similar arthroscopic surgery. PT was prescribed this time, but she know used the repaired but not corrected first knee in favor of the second, re-wrecking the first. The second knee followed up with falling apart, a few years of treatment, cortisone, a distinctly woo-pitching chiropractor, and ending with ridiculous pain in both and a need for pain killers to go buy bread. Back to the knee replacement.

So, they vegematicized her left knee. Or right. I can tell compass directions easily, left and right floozlify me. A week in the hospital, home. We had her parents here to help, get her to PT, help her with exercises, getting in and out of bed. She's a great lady, braver than I, she did very well. (In-laws only drove me to rage a half a dozen times, only drove me to homicidal rage once. I appreciate their help, but goddammit.) She did so well that she asked if she could push the schedule on her second knee up, from late 2015 to late June. We discussed the matter - I was all for the next surgery with one big caveat: all she could do in the meeting with the orthopedist was ask. She could not sell him on it, he had to be entirely on board on his own.

So, June 17 she had a knee replacement. Right knee, now. Fuckin' A bubba, she is so much braver than I. Surgery went well, but this time, for both practical reasons (not wanting to wreck the first knee healing the second) and for other practical reasons (I generally genuinely like my in-laws and can't afford the quicklime or shallow grave, the inevitable results of another 3 week stay), she went to transitional care/therapy. Again, she performed like a champ, and came home on, well, shucks, the symbolism gives me a crick in my stuff, Independence Day. Doesn't mean independence, per se, I have been helping her, accompanying her. We have basically spent the last few days alone in the house, couch and bed, bullshitting, loving pets, eating too well, it has been, with it's own medical stresses, a wonderful weekend. There's a recovery ahead of us still, but I am a very happy paleo!

I have had to fight the fishing gods to make my boat obey my commands, but have been out a few times. I still either have to fix a trolling motor, or put a rope on it and use it as an anchor.
19" Largemouth. And character from 'The Wall'

The dog, Jaxson, is 65# of cool. Also bloody insane. Possibly possessed.

Life is not all peach and lobster stew. I have finished spring PM season, and it were tough. Also, the company is 'exploring' the big 'O'. Not not the fun one, outsourcing. Imma trying to polish my resume and update my CV as much as possible before the fall decision is made. Bastards. Meantime, I have one arm that is largely non-functional (gotta see the orthopedist myself), so I'm fairly certain I'm not going back into construction.

NEVERTHELESS, MY WIFE IS HOME. I am so happy I could dance! (Well, step dance. Non-functional left arm.) I will not complain! That's for the next post.