summer patriot, winter soldier

oh, the weather outside is frightful, but ...

i am sitting here on my little back porch, the wall heater vainly contesting the well below outside, but it is warm enough in my wool socks and slippers, and i don't mind the chill.  i am on the back porch because i've taken the lap top from its seat at the kitchen table, that being cleared for the day after thanksgiving dinner that isn't going to happen.

paula is stuck in seattle at her son's house, the way over snoqualmie pass barred by snowfall and inclimate weather.  i've advised my son not to motor down from grandview, washington to milton freewater, because we have a very nasty storm brewing/coming in from the south west: the wind is blowing hard enough that snow is being blown from my roof in clumps.

so, that leaves me in an empty house, with naught to do but clean the thing up, an activity i regard w/ about as much fervor as getting a root canal.  (no, i've never had one, but i hear that they are unpleasant, so i will never get one.  laughing.)  and, a chicken i put out to thaw last night, and all the fixings for dinner.

so, i sit here, regarding the trees being buffeted in the wind, and look at the gray sky in the sere light, and i have a smile on my silly face.

got up this morning, puttered and confirmed that things are on "hold" over the phone w/ paula, and phoned and emailed the message to duncan.

and, i had an oroweat raisin bread english muffin with butter, honey and peanut butter with bigelow's constant comment tea.  (i feel like a nascar driver with sponsors on my coveralls as i type this, but i like to promote brands popular in the northwest, ... , well, ... , just cuz.  makes no difference to me the companies are likely owned by a mexican billionaire named "slim," ... , hint, he ain't much, ... , "slim," that is.  but, he seems a decent fellow, been married to the same lady for 40 years, and lives like warren buffet, frugally, it is said.)

and, when i still felt a hollow spot, i toasted another muffin and fried a single egg, and gulped that down as well, sitting in the leather chair in the living room watching the world go by wind borne about 25-30 miles an hour, scudding helter skelter but generally north bound, in the driven winds.  no, i really don't know what drives them, and marvel at what keeps huge masses of moisture laden air cohesive and coherent over the miles.

and, i am, oddly enough, content and at ease.  the car won't start, the battery expired at about -6 degrees fahrenheit yesterday at about 5.45 a.m., and just ground to a halt.  probably a metaphor there somewhere.

i have a chicken, and enough rice, pasta, dehydrated potatoes and other stuff to last a month, and propane bottles and cooking appliances for elk camp downstairs to cook with should the electric go on a frizzle, which it can do in weather like this.  that, and four pendleton wool blankets and $350 worth of synthetic sleeping bag ensure that i shall stay nice and secure no matter what.

and, paradise lost is getting pretty interesting, in its slightly ponderous and sedate little way.  the book is wonderful, and the poetry sublime, but it reminds me of the old tag line to the joke that goes, "talk, talk, talk, talk, ... , doesn't anybody fuck around here anymore?"  endless palaver, over the sublime nature of the foods that adam and eve feed to the angel when he visits to caution them against pride and disobeying g_d's command not to eat from the tree of knowledge, which surely he knows is not going to go very well w/ adam & eve given their insatiable curiosity and thirst for knowledge.  even as the angel cautions them, they are pestering him to learn more of heaven, and g_d, and how things work. 

perhaps there is a metaphor there, too, eh?

well, i am going to take my warm and full core, lie it down on the futon and wrap under a blanket, and read "paradise lost."  i hear that it doesn't end well.  but, we shall see.  i am reading right now about milton's/the angel's/g_d's notions of human free will, and what it portends if mans' decisions do not strictly adhere & cohere to divine views on matters, and the portents of disobedience.

and, we must inquire at this point.--

when do transgression cease being trivial, or is there no such thing as a trivial transgression from the path set forth by g_d.  remember the sons of aaron, serving as priests in the temple, who are consumed by g_d in flames for offering a ritual before g_d in his place in the temple, the form of the ritual not following proscription?  make a misstep, and poof, you are gone, consumed in eternal flame.

i am mindful of something the ayatollah khomenei is reputed to have said, about there being no humor in islam, and that islam does not have a sense of humor.

why, then, did g_d endow us with a sense of humor?

and, what is there about formalized systems of belief, posited in the bedrock of truth, that makes them antagonistic to qualities imbued in humans by the g_d that created us.  this seems to me, a very likely grounding and source for error, at least for antagonism between human behavior and that posited as truth.  is not attaining such conceptions of truth a ground for punishment, a posited evil?

well, on cold and stormy days when one is house bound, such considerations are likely to pop up.  we'll see what milton has to say, what g_d and the angels have to say, and what adam and eve do.  and, the workings of satan?  is satan any less bound by inevitability than the rest of us?

there is a wonderful passage just at the very end of the confrontation between gabriel and satan just after he is apprehended whispering in eve's ear.  the conversation between satan and gabriel has not gone well, and it looks as though gabriel & the cherubim are going into battle against satan, who has taken umbrage to the challenge to what he views as his royal prerogative.  at that moment, gabriel bids satan to look up, and apprehend the limits set upon him by g_d's scales, and suggests quite forcefully to satan that the outcome of any battle is foreordained.  satan glances to the heaven(s), and sees in the "writing on the wall" that his challenge to gabriel (and to g_d) is foredoomed, that the "scales" are against him, and he files away in surrender to the inevitable.

for that moment.  our better halves are determined.  our corruption is no less determined to hold sway.

satan will be back.  

for just as g_d, satan is eternal, and so it would seem is his lust for power over the heavens, and over the rule of g_d's favorite creation.  so, the struggle between g_d and satan is eternal, as is the struggle between g_d and satan within us, and satan knows that we have to weaken just once and he gains sway, not just within us, but in the sum total of things, in the scheme of things.

satan will be back, and, so will i.  we shall continue this discussion, of good and evil.

your choices in the matter, by the way, shall have some bearing on our collective paths, doncha know.  i happened to think the matter not just academic, but to have real life application in your/our political choices, and how we view the world and our rightful place in it.

and, how we view the aims and policies of others.  in my view, ba'al still has adherents: you don't think there is a pun or two, a message from jesus, a point to be made, when he tells the story of the "good" samaritan?

and, i will tell you something else right now.  i do not think ayatollah khomenei's remarks about there being no sense of humor in islam a trivial observation.  i think that it is frightfully insightful, and revealing of the inner most and deepest motivations and aspirations of islam.  nor do i find satan a particularly jovial or humorous fellow, totally devoid of that human quality: satan's motivations and preoccupations are singular, and they are singular desire to rule and impose his will upon all of creation, all of g_d's creation.  satan, as islam, has no sense of humor in these matters.

there is no love in satan's heart.  there is only dominion.  if not over heaven, then over hell, and over us.

john jay @ 11.26.2010

update on turkey day cobbler fest at heather's ...

heather's was great, and heather resplendent.

the cook, usually seen in faded jeans and a shirt, came in wearing a black skirt, and very pretty low back sweater and her hair down, with a big grin and just looking very nice.  just very pretty this morning, and quite sassy.

as promised, the regulars found the door open at 5.00 a.m., with hot coffee and apple and blackberry crisp waiting at the cash register:  it was serve yourself, gab, and pretty soon chatter filled the place.  me?  i was up a little late, went out the door bathed, brushed and scrubbed at about 5.33 a.m., and started walking the several miles to heather's when my car wouldn't start in the morning chill: it was a comfortable walk, though cold it was dry and no breeze, and i ambled in to the diner at about 6.15 or so.

sat at the counter, eating blackberry crisp and reading the portland oregonian sports page, chatting w/ heather as she was back and forth delivering fresh coffee and chatting with the regulars.  a nice, cheery, cozy little hubbub, and heather just as happy as a bug in a rug to be serving people dessert and coffee: the till was closed, the grill off, and no one was in a hurry to eat and run, just all very relaxed.

i goofed on the funnies, being so absorbed in the sports page that i let heather glomb the cross word and that little nine square numbers puzzle.  i had to wait until she left to steal the section and read the comics, and then put it right back in her seat just as she had left it: puzzles up, pen tip out, and pen resting atop the pages.  that means, "keep away" from my puzzles, in no uncertain terms.  depending on her mood, it can be a little bit of a killing offense to mess with the puzzles while she is gone.

we just chatted family and town gossip stuff.

then it was almost 8.00 a.m., and the blackberry dish was empty save for the debri left behind as people scooped up their helpings, so i glombed it and cleaned it up, scraping up the leavings.  oh, it was so good, i almost licked the dish, but, "dignity" interests won out.  i just got almost everything with a fork.

about 8.15 a.m., i teased heather that everybody was still there.  she said, yeah, nice, isn't it, and laughed.

at about 8.30 a.m., she issued the first warning, and said, o.k., guys, when the crossword is done, you're gone.  dick meyer looked around the corner of his booth at heather and said, what do you mean? and grinned.  about a quarter till, she said, crossword is done, you're gone.  outta here.

everybody got up, bussed the coffee cups back to the dishwasher, and threw the paper plates and plastic forks away, and filed out, putting on coats and fishing out cigarettes, and continuing chats to stand in the cold air of the parking lot a little bit longer.

a very nice morning.

and, good lord, but the apple and blackberry crisp were wonderful, and the coffee fresh and perfect.  a very, very, very nice way to start thanksgiving day.

john jay @ 11.25.2010

george roper at "g.m.'s place" says t.s.a. policy on searchs violates the 4th amendment right to be secure from arbitrary search ... and, he is right ...

george roper gets it right almost always by my lights, and in a post entitled "no muslim feelings were hurt in the screening of this passenger" he hits the nail on the head once more.

george roper makes the rather novel assertion that a person is secure from search unless probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, exists to warrant the intrusion into a person's liberty interests.  he bases this assertion upon some obscure language found in the text of the 4th amendment to the u.s. constitution to the effect that:

"the right of the people to be secure in their persons, ... , against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, ... , and particularly describing ... the persons ... to be seized." 

the hinge of search and seizure analysis, in the main, remains that a peace officer or government agent must be able to enunciate some articulable basis to suspect likely criminal activity.***  now, i for one agree, that having ones cock and ball set felt up, or having ones breasts and/or vaginal area felt and manipulated for no articulable reason of criminal activity at all is a violation of this fundamental right to be free from needless and aggravating government intrusion.

my own feeling is that t.s.a.'s"policies" are a provocationby the obama administrationto see just how damned far the government can go in herding the sheep before the sheep begin to balk.  and, in the artless minions of the t.s.a. the administration has found the perfect foils to take this measure.  but, people are pissed, (and you had better believe that george roper is), and this is gonna be just another reason to bounce this buffoon out on his butt, when the time comes, ... , or, maybe even before.

but, go to "g.m.'s place," and read the post there.  there you will find the 4th amendment quoted, and there you will be treated to a very lively, insightful and incisive piece on this grossly misjudged and, you should pardon the phrase, mishandled tactic on the part of t.s.a.  it is a damn fine read.

and, when you have finished at george's place, drop on over and pay thomas sowell a visit as well at "creators.com", as he holds forth in an essay ("airport 'security'") in his own inimitable fashion on this latest little bit of heavy handed two bit tyranny from our own home grown two-bit tyrant, b. insane obama.  tip o' the hat, ron fortier.

upate:  this, from the youtube, the creation of buck howdy, "help you make it to your flight." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9a8jGVXOMsw&feature=player_embedded .  now, when you watch this youtube, i would like you to remember the hue & cry raised by the left about president george bush's administration being the great "violator"of our civil rights, and ask you if you can in the remotest remember any violation of individual privacy or right being perpetrated upon american citizens as egregious as depicted in this little film by mr. howdy.  i suspect that no prisoner at guantanamo is subjected to the humiliating searches perpetrated by t.s.a. upon innocent americans as depicted herein.

obama must go.  end update.  hat tip, ron fortier.

i have said this about obama many times, he the resident pretender, that it is not a matter that the emperor has no clothes & we see him for what he is, but that obama is merely an empty suit & we see that there is nothing in the man, a man without purpose or substance, save the ostentatious wallowing in the trappings of power.  he would be tyrant, but he has a clue why.

john jay @  11.24.2010

p.s.  suits.  suits he's got plenty of, on your dollar, btw. 

***  even in a terry stop situation, in which an officer is permitted a minor intrusion on the basis of protecting his individual safety by executing a very brief and very minimal search for weapons, the officer must be able to articulate some basis for his concern that an individual to be searched might present a likely source of harm to him.  and, it must be done to further a legitimate investigative concern.

in short, even under the very expansive rule of terry cops cannot go around feeling a man's cock & ball set, or a woman's breasts or vaginal area, merely on pretext.  there has to be a basis for the intrusion in fact, it has to be grounded in a concern for an officer's safety which can be articulated, and it cannot be based on mere suspicion or investigative zeal.  in short, "pretext" is not a basis to search or restrain a person's liberty interest.

in my view, the t.s.a. searches and the nude screening are gross violations of a persons right to be secure from arbitrary & unreasonable search.  this is simply tyranny.  plain and simple.  and, committed by tyrants.

i would not submit to it.

linked at noodzakelijkkwaad.net .... "... to not resist aggression, it is immoral ... "

friends:

my original post on the immorality of not resisting aggression is linked at noodzakelijkkwaad, a dutch blog.  now, i haven't the foggiest notion of what "noodzakelijkkwaad" means.  i am not sure that i would after the instant "translation" of dutch to english supplied by the browser!!  laughing.

i do recognize the article, however, ... , in places.

i will provide the link to the dutch blog, [published june 16, 2010] and below you will find the link to my original post.  it was a pretty good post when i wrote it, and it still reads pretty well, in my estimation.

the article was entitled, "to not resist aggression, it is immoral" and i think it is about as clear a piece of writing on the subject as you will find.  [published june 12, 2010]

i have been blogging about 2.5 years, yet it never ceases to amaze me that a person sitting in a tiny town in n.e. oregon can get an article picked up by a dutch blog, and that almost 6 months after it is published in holland someone will read it there, and then come back to my little shoppe and examine my wares.  for someone who well remembers the "party line" phone, it is just incredible.

and, i might add, immensely satisfying.

john jay @ 11.24.2010

p.s.  what do you know?  the "spell checker" didn't have any words of wisdom to offer on "noodzakelijkkwaad" either.  laughing.

rifqa bary? ...

friends:

does anybody have copies of the united states i.c.e. decision that granted rifqa bary permission to stay in the united states.

i am interested in learning upon what grounds her application was made, and upon what grounds it was granted?

john jay @ 11.23.2010

p.s.  i am not interested in what her counsel have had to say about it on the various web-sites sponsored by lawyers stemberger and gatterdam.

there's no place like home ... happy thanksgiving, fellow conservatives ... leftists, eat rocks ...

bone's, keeper of bone's bees, processes honey in the tried and true tradition of small beekeepers: he chases as many of the bees out of the comb as possible, and then grinds it all up.  "comb in," a butcher might say, and who knows just exactly what else.

i am working on a very large & hot cup of tea, and have just finished two pieces of oroweat's "master's best: winter wheat" bread, toasted, with tillamook's sweat creamery butter and some of bone's honey which he sells and gives to friends.  i am wearing a heavy flannel shirt by filson, and my feet are swaddled in wool socks and shearling boots.

outside.

outside it is about 12 degrees fahrenheit, and a fine snow is falling, as it has been for nearly a full day, with about 6 inches on the ground.  the sky is gray and white, and when i look at the neighbor's roof against the sky i cannot see the line of his roof, deceiving sight.

the temperature is falling rapidly as the day begins to fade, and the forecasters predict that it will be something along the order of 6 to 8 degrees fahrenheit by morning.

when i finish this, i will go outside and shovel the walks a little, and start the car just to keep it reasonably functional, and probably will go and do my laundry as washboard willie's.  afterwards, i will go to the store, buy an apple fritter, come home, light the fire to boil some milk and make chocolate milk.  (acutally, i will nuke the milk, and put my wool sock clad feet against the modern miracle of the baseboard heater, and just enjoy.)

g_d bless the child that's got his own, baseboard heater, and chocolate milk, i guess.

no friends, there is no place like home, be it ever so humble.

my little abode is ever so humble.  a little ramshackle, if truth be told.  but, it is 70 degrees in the kitchen, and a little cooler in the living room and elsewhere, but not so bad that a wool sweater and the shearling boots and a wool shawl by pendleton won't keep a person nice and cozy.  nose dripping a bit, perhaps, but cozy.

no wind blows within the walls.  no snow falls upon the couch and floors.  and, the miracle of the incandescent bulb and the fluorescent fixture keeps it nice and light, and holds the gloom at bay until i have decided to sleep.

this night i shall play the guitar a bit, poorly, but it will be a session from which bits and pieces of recognizable music emits, in key if not subject to my own little eccentricities when it comes to time signature and meter.  let's just say that i am not a prisoner of the 4x4 beat.

and, for this, i am very grateful.

i am, in fact, very thankful.  all else considered, i am born into a wonderful epoch, and in the most glorious nation this earth has ever seen, and may perhaps ever see.  i was born of humble parents, went to a little schoolhouse with all twelve grades, a gym and a cafeteria all in one building, and graduated from a college as a lettered heathen wherein i had entered an unlettered heathen:  we best not talk of whether i have ever possessed any "couth" or not.  i have enjoyed a splendid life, rich in experience, blessed by marvelous and interesting people, and if a decision making process described as "not the best" has left me at the end of it without much in the way of material resource, well, so be it: where is the slot to put in the quarters for another ride, just like the last one?

friends, i hunt.  i have spent elk season in a tent at 6,000 feet where the weather was so cold that all of our water was frozen for five days straight, and the days it was liquid, it was just barely so.  no stove in the tent, what the old timers call "cold" camping.  just cooking stoves, coleman and lanterns, coleman, the only sources of heat.  i've come from several such camps mildly frost bitten, because i insist on wearing wool fingerless gloves, not being able to feel a trigger with more substantial gloves on.

i expect that living that way in a white canvas tent, sleeping on the bare ground in sleeping bag has to beat a cave under similar circumstances, but, not by much.

i worked the bering sea for about 7 or 8 months one year, part of it aboard an old canadian mine sweeper moored to a dock in akutan, alaska and part of it at sea on a boat 146' long by 60' in the beam: yes, wide, and built in a barge yard in tell city, indiana.  i have loaded 60 lb. boxes of frozen crab into reefers standing in the rain in a t-shirt in 40 degree weather, and never caught a cold the whole time: the secret is to be working so hard that the water evaporates from your skin in a billowing cloud of condensing vapor.   

i did those things, earlier.

so, i am grateful now for my physical comforts, for a life less rigorous, and more secure.  and, thankful for my warmth, my full belly, and my warm tea.  bigelow's "constant comment," always.

and, i am grateful for this last mid-term election, and for living in a country where a person like me can stand upon his two hind feet and bellow his opinion, and devil take the damned hindmost.  and, i am thankful for so many like-minded persons, who every day display the courage of their convictions at no small risk to their security.

g_d bless wilders, geller, spencer, steyn and all the others who speak for us, and who lead by courage and example.

thank g_d for our blessings, and thank g_d for those stubborn, cantankerous, brave and stalwart people who have secured those blessings unto us.  and, than g_d for, and thanks to, every american who has worn the uniform of this great country, and for your service and your sacrifice: be you ever so humble, you stand with greatness.

john jay @  11.23.2010

p.s.  i will stay in today.  yesterday i walked 4 miles in this stuff, with a "breeze" blowing at about 20-25 miles an hour: man, the snow and the little frozen rain drops really sting when they hit your face in that kind of wind, and when the wind has blown over miles and miles of snow covered fields, well, it is cold.

i will walk again tomorrow.--

i don't want to get soft.

i need to stay tough.  you see, if it came down to it, i could live in a tent in the winter on bivouac if it came to a winter dust up to defend our right and liberty.  i have suffered those kinds of conditions before, and called it fun.  i can suffer them again.

to give substance to liberty and our right.

hey, the leftist's don't like that we are so bellicose, that we assert our right, and that we demand that no one, not even our own government interferes with them?

well, the leftists can just go eat rocks.  begin update:  a very dear friend for nearly 45 years thought this particular phrase polarizing and against the ecumenical spirit of thanksgiving, and, even so if uttered in a jocular fashion.  he thinks that it was not becoming for me to utter such a disparaging remark to my political opponents while wishing others enjoy the warmth and fellowship of the season.  i have considered his opinion, and, quite frankly, taken it to heart, ... , keeping firmly in mind and grasp, howsoever, that this is a partisan & conservative political blog.  i will, with that caveat in mind, temper my remarks to observe that i hope all the rocks that leftists eat this thanksgiving are tender, succulent, nutritious and tasty morsels, laden with beneficial minerals (seems a lock considering that rocks are mostly minerals) and health giving vitamins, and that they have none of the taste of the bitter gall & disappointment that quite naturally wells up from within by being dispossessed of power.  and, during this wonderful holiday, i wish them a restful respite from the tumult and conflict of partisan politics, ... , say, through this coming monday.  after that. let the games resume!!  david, i trust this meets the tenor of your remarks.  end update. 

as for myself, i will have a bit of turkey on thanksgiving.  and, on thursday morning, between the hours of 5.00 a.m. and 8.00 a.m., i am going to a wee bit o' heather's in milton freewater, and i am going to have a deep dish of blackberry cobbler, part of the 26 gallons of berries heather picked this summer.  just her thanks to her regular breakfast customers.

some of you may consider milton freewater, oregon to be "in the sticks," and just a little off the beaten path, perhaps a forgotten little place.

me?

i am ever so thankful that such a little place exists, and that it offers me succor and care and shelter from the storms.  has ever a person so blessed as i ever lived before?  i just tend doubt it.

he has sown tragedy, despair and disaster .... we must be shed of him.

he has sown tragedy, despair and disaster, and  we must be shed of him.  it really isn't necessary to write his name, is it?  who else?  pray tell, who else?

john jay @ 11.23.2010

p.s.  has our standing in the world improved under his "reign?"  

his notion of foreign policy is to bow to muslim dictators, court repressive regimes the world over, and to travel with 6 doctors and a retinue of 3,000 persons: in their history, the marines have invaded countries with fewer troops.

he is a laughing stock.  we have become laughing stocks.

he has driven the economy into ruin: we are in depression, call it what you will, use the names the media obscures the situation, but the economy is in ruin.  he and his cohorts, his minions, his ilk, have sought to destroy what this country, and we must rid him from our midst.

why elaborate?  we must be shed of this albatross hung round our neck.  he no longer portends disaster, he is the disaster, and he presides over disaster and ruin, and we are to have done with him so that we may rebuild.

it is time to be shed of this clown.

dear friends, why you should not loose 2 seconds sleep over the integrity of your computer's security ... it has none, so don't worry about it ...

this little story seems to be passing by without a whole lot of notice or comment, so i shall add my 2-cents worth to the "tumult:" if a tree falls in the forest, and no one hears, has it fallen.  (this, btw, is the most preposterous inquiry in all of philosophical inquiry.  the question posits the answer, which is, of course it does, you fucking ninny!!  the better question is, if you don't hear any trees falling, does that mean no trees are falling.  now that, is a good question.)

now, the little story appended to this very brief post, also means that you should loose absolutely no sleep over the integrity of your computer's security devices/firewalls/encryption/etc., ... , because it has absolutely none, so don't worry about it, there is absolutely nothing you can do about it if you are on-line or in a network.

in this story taken from the "pages" of msnbc lies proof positive that anything you can do to secure your privacy will not stand against clever and determined people who want to pear into your privates  ...  you cannot stop them.  a malaysian hacker has penetrated the federal reserve and other hackers are into the department of defense with apparent ease, including (presumably) operatives of foreign intelligence.

if those people cannot secure their computers, you cannot secure yours from intrusion, assuming you are connected to any sort of network.  they can get their way in, and look at your undies, your messages, and your most intimate thoughts and communications.

ain't no doubt about it.

my suggestions?  well, i would suggest as i always have on these matters.

fuck 'em, just fuck 'em, and fuck the horses they road in on.  give 'em everything they want to know, and state it upfront, and state it publicly.  if they don't like it, let them come and arrest you in the middle of the night like the kgb, and let them shoot you behind the ear with a 9mm if that is their design.

but, say what you think, and say it loud, standing on your two hind feet and braying it like the jackass you are on the public square, for public consumption and digestion, and whatever else the public does and excretes.

so, if they arrest you for your opinion, say it as loud as you can at your trial.

and, if they show up on your doorstep for your guns, shoot them on their porch, twice in the chest aimed at the aortic bundle, and once behind the ear to secure the job.

and, let them know your intentions in advance, and do them the courtesy of letting them know precisely what awaits them should they try to suppress either you or your views.

let them know they have a fight.

oh, and should they breach your system, and then attempt to extort your silence or your compliance by threatening to "expose" you?  well, fuck 'em.  should they want to talk about the stains on your sheets, or the secret little things that give you pleasure, or who you have done those things with?

well, who doesn't have stains on the sheets, or who doesn't have their little kinks, and who doesn't like it a certain way with certain people?  just who, precisely, cares?

reply to them, "publish and be damned," and if you feel like embellishing on this tried and true and perfectly serviceable response, you may add, "... , and, fuck you and the horse you rode in on."

nothing beats a sculker like candor, and defiance.  so don't worry about it.  if you think and act in a certain manner, then be willing to accept the consequences of your conduct, and be willing to be subject to learned opinion on what the stains mean.

in short, pay the piper, and dance as you please.  and, fuck 'em, and fuck the horses they rode in on, if they cannot take a joke, as the old saying goes.

give them a fight, defy them, to the last drop of blood, to the last breath, and do it in public so that they are scrutinized for who and what they are.

john jay @ 11.22.2010

observation for the day, no. 2, on the nature of self image, and whether it has been actualized ...

while driving down the street i espied a man who looked perfectly miserable.

his hair was black and oily, and slicked back over his head such as would have given marlon brando or lee marvin pause to admire.

he wore a black leather rider's jacket, open to a black t-shirt with some sort of wisdom i could not make out imprinted upon it, the jacket open except to the bottom button, and the stylish leather belt with the stainless steel grommets tossed carelessly akimbo.

nice.

jeans, suitably tattered.  and, heavy black leather boots, heavily soled & soiled, never once soiled.

and, a very frustrated look.

for, so attired and accoutered with all the necessary attitude, he walked on the sidewalk slightly ahead of a very frumpy overweight middle aged woman, who had something very small and yappy on a leash, almost but not quite reminiscent of an actual dog.  and, she fussed over it, ignoring him.

this man obviously had a dream, a large vision of himself even, at one stage in his life.  it was obvious to him as it was to me that his dream has yet to be actualized, and remains frustratingly beyond his reach.  i expect forever.  as i expect he suspects.  perhaps knows, to a certainty.

even if one aims low, it hurts that ones grasp exceeds ones reach.  he shall not grow into a pleasant, garrulous grandpa who bounces babies on his knee, and tells stories of his glory years on the road.

his expression.  how does one describe his expression?  well, you know that little pout that obama gets on his face ..... ?

john jay @ 11.19.2010 

an observation for the day ...

this attributed to robert louis stevenson in the local paper, (c) 2010 king features syndicate, inc.--

"perpetual devotion to what a man calls his business, is only to be sustained by perpetual neglect of many other things."

those of us who putter find profound insight in that.  slavery self-induced is no less onerous than slavery imposed.  (i said that, and it is a mighty fine turn of phrase, and i am well pleased and humored with myself for it.)  wake up, smell the roses.  (i did not say that first, nor last, in all likelihood.  but, persons should be mindful of the observation.  we are not here, forever, you know, so you should take some joy in things as you make the pilgrimage.  yes, i think ayatollah kohmeini a perfect horse's butt for his observation "that there is no humor in islam," and a perfect ass for never figuring out why, as a consequence, islam is a perfect waste, a perfect tragedy: is, was, and ever shall be, and all that.)

john jay @ 11.19.2010