Tuesday, October 21
Tap, tap, tap….. Hmmmm… finger drumming on the table top… restless stretching and reaching… got an itch under my shoulder blade… confusion… a little I guess. Like ‘tells’ in poker, I’m getting some reads but the betting doesn’t reflect the hands I’m seeing when I call. What’s going on? I guess I can’t ask Marvin Gaye. You know what? I think I’m just going to take a little walk through my head and see what the ping pong ball has to say. I know it’s used to going back and forth and then there’s the spin thing. I’m pretty good at ping pong and the other things you learn growing up on military bases and being locked up for long periods of time. I’m not the sort of person you want to play Nine Ball with.
Having your head handed to you since before you could walk will make you scared of everything for awhile. Sooner or later you get angry and people die, maybe you die too or you learn to channel it. I guess I’m lucky that way. As erratic as I have been getting to where I am… I think it’s safe to say I learned on the way or I wouldn’t be here now.
Here I sit in beautiful weather with the sun shining as it has been for some time now. The temperature is in the 70’s and there’s a breeze most of the time but not like the South Pacific trades that are the best in this world. Still… a man could do worse but… I’m uneasy. I’m not comfy. I’m looking over my shoulder and it’s not a personal thing. It’s just that apprehension of no definable origin.
Colin Powell endorsed Obama so you can stick a fork in McCain. This puts the final imprimatur on the thing along with Brezinski bitch-slapping the insufferable Morning Joe. Hey, Joe… that dead girl in your office… what’s up with that? I don’t have a problem with Powell and
The thing is… it makes the ongoing voter fraud- Joe Stalin- American system much harder to work now. I don’t care how slick they think they are everyone is going to smell a rat if McCain somehow wins. But he’s a legacy… as they like to say in the fraternities and his dad did a nice little arabesque blow-jobbing the Israeli’s about the cold blooded murder of American sailors on the U.S.S. Liberty. And given McCain’s tendency to backfire/flame-broil his mates, why… you could almost call him “Tail-Gunner Joe.” Nah… that probably didn’t happen and neither did the attack on the U.S.S. Liberty.
I look at Obama speak and I think, Jack Kennedy. He’s the sort of guy you just wish would be president and not only lead but re-integrate the nation in ways that can’t really be talked about but would really make the day and if only the Zionist controlled Black Music World would let Sam Cooke reincarnate we wouldn’t have to feel like Richard Pryor’s pet monkey was humping our ear with a jackhammer every time you turned on the radio. That’s ‘you’, not me. I don’t listen to the radio or music period. I wouldn’t even listen to my own except I have to when I’m recording and mixing it. I like the quiet. If I could, I would get on a plane tomorrow and fly to
You can find the inauguration speech that I wrote for Obama in the archives or you can google it. Here’s the sticky wicket… here’s the catch 22 (I will actually conclude with this). Obama might be for real and he might not. I don’t know… do I? No… I don’t know but… there are a few things anyone who is for real has to do. Here are those things and if you don’t do them you are a whore. You are a nasty, nasty perversion because it’s not just you getting screwed but all the people who believed in you get screwed too. That’s what it is so let’s call it what it is. Let’s not mince words. Mince is for pies.
Any man or woman who becomes president must do these things or they are a whore. They might as well give it up on national TV. They might as well host a reality show where they do it for the thrill of being watched. Don’t you love that term…? “Reality Show”? That says it all. That about sums us up.
Here is what you have to do. You have to abolish the Federal Reserve. You have to cut
Let me point something out to the eternally clueless among you. Everyone has a vote and the income area I am talking about and let me add… those making less than fifty thousand pay almost no taxes at all… Let me point out that that is a big majority and if you are too fucking stupid not to see this then you deserve what you get. In fact, I hope it hurts and gets worse because it that is what it takes to wake your stupid ass up then it’s all good.
All luxury goods should be taxed to the degree that they are unaffordable by the rest. You have an argument against that? Well, fuck you. It is a sad state of affairs when I would make a better president than what you have available. I know what is right. How come they don’t? Uh huh. I’m going to apologize to whores for having compared them to politicians. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just couldn’t find a common term that was better but I want you to know I think they are far worse than you, although I know that neither of you have a heart of gold.
I can understand why a candidate for the highest orifice would have to dissimulate or dissemble. You have to lie to get into office, that’s a given. However… once you get into office you are either, fearless and true or you are a whore. And if you are fearless and true it will get you shot. That is the Catch 22. Study your history and see if you can connect the dots on who got shot and why.
All this given, I personally wouldn’t care. Shooting me doesn’t change anything. It promotes me to a higher plane and the moment my blood hits the ground YOU are in deep, deep trouble. Given that all life ends in death or ‘change’ I think it comes down to what you think is worth living for. It is the sad testimony of these times that so many of us are cowards and self-serving but it does you no good and that is what confuses me. If you can’t do the right thing then I damn well will or some other of our small number will. The thing is that you don’t elect people like this and that is the other Catch 22. I don’t know if this is connected to the fact that a 22 in the head is the best way to guarantee a death but anything that rattles around or ping pong balls back and forth has got to make an impression on something. We’re just not agreed on what that something is and to make matters worse… we don’t even know who we are.
Tap, tap, tap….. Hmmmm… finger drumming on the table top… restless stretching and reaching… cut.