In Case You've Wondered

My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.

If you're here for the stories, they can be found by clicking the labels button "stuff I made up".

One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.

I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.

Monday, December 31, 2012

It's Really Convenient

Hillary Clinton is due to testify to a congressional committee on the murder of 4 U.S. citizens in Libya. She's put it off, for varying reasons, but she's managed to avoid either telling the truth or committing perjury...until now.

The Secretary of State has fallen, hit her head, suffered a concussion and now has problems with blood clots. What does this mean? She won't testify for a long, long time, if ever and she can claim a head injury for any number of falsehoods or incomplete statements.

It's a win, win, except if she really does have a blood clot, the final physical result could be drool city and Depends. Time will tell. I'll leave this one up to God. May he be as merciful as it appears she was to the brave citizens that served with honor.

Friday, December 28, 2012

I Had a Strange Dream

I had a strange dream last night, which left me going over the dream and analyzing the significance this morning.

In the dream, I was part of a large group of people in the process of building a fire break along one edge of a long, narrow coastal valley. The people were building the fire break under the direction of Barak Obama.

We were diligent, and my crew was quite proud of how much we accomplished. Before we could consider the project complete, we were told it wasn't wide enough and we needed to make it wider. We went on and continued with the work in the late, cloudy evening.

The project was to prevent a disaster if a fire broke out. As we worked, and I looked along the fire break, I realized the intended result was as devastating as the possible disaster. The small line of cleared, excavated land had grown to a substantial part of the valley. Barack Obama wandered between the workers expounding the importance and expounding political rhetoric. I realized he was completely unaware of what was being done and only wrapped up in his own self-importance as he walked along the cleared land and spoke to nobody in particular. He was absorbed with his voice and enamored with his words.

It was near dark, and I stopped to watch a man I used to work with - who died years ago - working by the end of a small glacier. As he worked, the dripping wall of ice steadily advanced inches every few seconds. I observed for a few minutes, and then wandered through a break on the coastal side of the ridge that ran along the coast. I could hear Obama speaking, but was not interested and finally ended up on the edge of a beach.

It was now dark, and the low clouds brought an occasional mist. Below the distant horizon, a huge fire burned offshore. I knew it was caused by a well test. A drilling rig struck gas and they were testing it for pressure and volume. The bright light in the distance signified success and prosperity. I felt joy knowing the drilling crew was successful.

As I wandered along the beach, I realized I was walking under a large pier. People waited among the columns, cooking small meals by fires, or just gathering in small groups. I didn't know what they were saying, but I knew why they were there. They were hoping for a share of the coming boom and anticipating an opportunity.

I finally ended my wandering by the surf line. Just above the surf were numerous shallow graves with make-shift crosses. A few bodies, mummified by sand were scattered in the area. I knew these were those that had given up everything for the chance of fortune, but failed and were now only memories of those that pushed on.

At this point I awoke. I couldn't fall back asleep, since the dream was so vivid. I rose, went and made some tea and sat for a long time just going over the dream. I finally went back to bed, but woke this morning with the dream on my mind.

So, here’s my analysis:

The fire break in the valley signifies the futile, wasted efforts of the current administration. All the efforts to prevent disaster created a disaster. To make matters worse, the leader, Barack Obama, is clueless, self-absorbed and unable to realize his legacy is of incompetence. The final result is wasted resources for useless projects.

The beach is the beginning of what is to come. The oil well over the horizon is the start of future prosperity and those on the beach are those that are unwilling to accept useless, wasted lives if there’s wealth to be had with effort. Some failed, but others were going on. They wanted success and they would sacrifice for the opportunity.

Prophecy? Maybe, but it’s more of a logical conclusion to current events. Progressivism has never succeeded. Central authority, with rationed resources, always leaves a few with power they can’t control. It consumes, destroys rational thought and the result is appalled citizens who will reject the concept and demand liberty from the capricious, arbitrary decisions of demented leaders.

The founders of the United States were aware of the dangers of an out of control government. They found their own original government was ruthless with the quest for power and wealth. People died for no other reason than to object to what they considered unfair treatment. In response they revolted and succeeded in removing the chains of servitude demanded by their British rulers. This is why the second amendment was placed in the Bill of Rights. It’s the fail safe clause and the founders knew it was more than important.

I wonder what precipitated the dream. I’m thinking current events played a big part. My personal income fell, due to increases in health insurance, and the passage of the New Year guarantees increases in my share of Fica and taxes as the lower tax rates of the Bush era expire. The additional costs of living over the last few years already took a big bite from my frozen salary and the forecast for my economic future is not as bright as it should be. To worsen this situation, I’m spending a huge amount of time helping my mother, who has an income even more precarious than my own. If necessary, I can adapt, but she is already at the point there isn't much room for increased costs and I worry about reductions in the government insurance programs that were financed for generations by her parents, my father and all the relatives that passed away without ever taking a penny from the Ponzi schemes of foolish legislatures that have long passed.

I’m appalled by the out of control spending by the federal government. I’m infuriated by the wasting of resources on illegal aliens and people that learned to game the system. Many don’t work and collect government money through bogus ailments created by unethical doctors and attorneys. They profit from the hard work of people that don’t deserve the malicious thievery and greed by bureaucrats and politicians.

Things will change, although how the changes happen will only be determined by future events. The government will stop borrowing money, whether by choice or by force from an incensed citizenry or fiduciary demands of those who were willing to take the risk of loaning money to the United States. Borrowing money to waste is never fiscally responsible. Such practices always end and the results are never pleasing.

My mother always said: “The pendulum swings both ways and it never swings gently.” True words and the pendulum has reached the top of the swing; starting in the other direction. The changes to come will be necessary and the signs of these changes should be a sobering warning for those that reside in the ideasphere of Washington D.C. The most ominous is the accumulated sales of firearms for three years taking place in three months. People fear their government and they’re reacting accordingly. It shouldn't be this way and those that have authority due to the tolerance of the citizens may find the tolerance has ended.

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Flaky Internet

I've had some brilliant observations to share, but the internet has been flaky, which causes some consternation, interspersed with expletives and sips of scotch. The exact problem is not determined at this time, but I'm diligently making efforts to solve the problem.

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas to all the humans and bots that read my blog.

Thursday, December 20, 2012


In my world, that I like to think as normal, devastation is when a family member has an unexpected illness, or accident. That, or something like a severe weather event leaves people homeless, or suffering from the loss of a family member.

Not in Hollywood. Apparently, since Anne Hathaway gave a photographer a glimpse of here hoo-hoo, while leaving a car, she is finding the event devastating. All I can say is that it's a good thing a boob didn't fall out during the process. If that had happened, she'd have been forced to spend days on the talk shows and write a book about the horrible experience.

I've Decided....

...humans don't exist on the internet. It's all an elaborate ruse. Bots are what's on the internet. If you don't believe that, look at the bottom of the main page and see that one of the most read posts is the one titled "Cantaloupe". I doubt more than three people actually read that post, but for the last three days, it's been the most read, thanks to bots.

Monday, December 17, 2012

Saturday, December 15, 2012

CRS Rears Its Ugly Head

I'm not usually obsessed by something that slips my memory, but over the last few days, I couldn't remember the name of the band that Sting was a member.

I thought about it; put it out of my thoughts; I knew it would pop up.......nope.

So, finally I told my wife, who looked at me like I was three years old and asking why women don't have penises.

It's the Police. That's the name, and I'll never forget it again.....until tomorrow. I wonder if I'll remember I forgot?

The Media Sucks

Why? They have no balance or understand their job is to report, not speculate.

The murders of the children is horrific, but the constant chatter of repeating any tidbit of information, speculation, feigned horror and disrespect to the suffering families is beyond reprehensible. They want ratings, the families want privacy, but they can't escape the constant reminder loved children and family members were murdered.

Is there nothing else happening? Is the video of a child using a sword to remove the head of a tied prisoner not horrific enough to report? What about the fact Hillary may not testify of the murders in Libya? How about the economy?

Bleh. The media sucks.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

No Medal of Honor

The marines that were there, said Sgt. Rafael Peralta, who had a severe head wound, pulled a grenade to his body, which kept the rest of his squad from dying.

Leon Panetta, and pencil pushers decided the forensic evidence indicated the head wound was so severe, he was dead and couldn't have pulled the grenade to his body.

So, no Medal Of Honor for Peralta.

Personally, I think they should take Panetta, his pencil pushers, grease their butts and drop them into rural Iraq. First one out with proof they weren't raped anally gets to lick the floors of the Marine barracks of their choice.

Right to Work

Michigan is now a "right to work" state. People can work anywhere, whether union or not, and not be forced to pay union dues.

All in all, that's the way things should be, in my opinion. Unions can serve a very useful purpose, but not while demanding money and using a government body to dictate everyone should belong. If they have something to offer that people want, they'll make the effort to join. If not, then they can suffer the consequences.

I know the unions will cause problems, including using violence in an attempt to regain power. It won't work. People eventually become horrified of the thuggery and the biggest loser will be the unions. Instead of promoting a path to a successful career, they'll be perceived as promoters of organized crime and the members will be tainted forever as criminals.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Fiscal Cliff

According to the media, we're teetering on the "fiscal cliff". At the end of the year, due to automatic tax hikes and supposed spending cuts, the economy will become a bigger mess and the supposed recovery will stop.

Personally, I haven't seen any change in the economy. In fact, due to increased prices and costs, I've been sliding backwards for a few years. My wages stalled years ago, yet everything I buy is more expensive.

Government employment is around 4%, while the private sector is still at a reported 7.7%, which I suspect is a boilerhoused number. Otherwise, those that depend on the productivity of individuals are enjoying a better economy due to the increased spending/stealing of government entities. This isn't good.

So, things aren't forecast to be very good after the first of the year. From my perspective, things haven't been good for a long, long time.

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Big Legged Woman

Disclaimer: No big legged woman was harmed during the writing of this poem.  Resemblance to anyone living is purely  coincidental and unintended.....unless it was you blocking a traffic lane. 

She was a pigeon-toed big legged woman.
Walking along the road.
One leg stuck out in traffic, the other an over-sized load.

Maybe she was carrying groceries
Maybe it was well earned booze.
Maybe it was all new garments
Maybe it was some wood.

Her oak trunk thighs were rubbing her stretch pants slowly away.
The traffic slowed in deference
Since their insurance was still unpaid.

We all gawked in silent wonder
We all turned quickly away
We didn't want to cause any problems
On such a lovely,warm, late autumn day.

So the pigeon-toed big legged woman
Waddled silently home.
We were all completely thankful
She decided to walk alone.

Living With The Consequences

Everyone is the culmination of their life experiences. Some are blessed and some seemed to be cursed from birth. While some have every luxury offered, others may struggle to only survive.

So, life can bring everything, or kick you until you're a nearly unconscious wreck in the gutter. Neither is final and neither is the future. Consequences are faint memories of the past and the future is waiting to be shaped by you.  

Friday, December 7, 2012

It Knew

It knew. It knew almost everything there was to know. Nothing ever discovered, that lived, was examined or happened was beyond its knowledge. The secrets of everything were known and nothing was missing.

The original formation was known. So was the combination of events that led to life, including physical phenomena and chance happenings that created the right moment.

All life forms, and their genetics were known. Every species was known; both living and extinct. There was no conjecture, or unknown events. Time periods almost incomprehensible allowed examination, research and the recreation of everything that happened and nothing was missed.

Now, on an impossibly tall platform placed to observe the heavens, and the adjoining planet, it was all that was left. Scanning constantly, nothing escaped its attention. It observed the dull light of a star that had long since died. Nuclear fusion was over. The final outcome of billions of years was almost inconsequential compared to the huge swirl of light accentuated by a large area of complete darkness.

Time passed on, yet stood still. The culmination of knowledge only waited, since there was nothing left to do, but observe and – maybe – be relieved of the constant waiting and allowed to pass the knowledge on.

There was only one empty section of knowledge that remained. Awaiting input, it could only accumulate what could be observed. The information was stored in the enormous archives available, or created in the moon it occupied. Energy was available from fusion. Machines could add more space, if necessary. Time had no meaning; data was constant and forever was a point without reference.

The creators were gone. Having passed through uncountable phases, they settled with an organic vessel. Machinery, even the most sophisticated, was incomplete for experiencing the unique experience called life. While it seemed life could be controlled, it never was. The fantastic constant modifications always gave new experiences that could never be anticipated. Unfortunately, this choice led to the departure. Organic forms couldn't survive here any longer. Ionizing radiation was far beyond what could be shielded.

So, now it was all that was left, with a purpose to pass on information. The charred remains of the third planet would mark the location where it began. If the original inhabitants returned, their new information could be added to the archive. They could add their experiences of travel to other galaxies, much younger than that what once was called the Milky Way; now greatly consumed by the central black hole. It was their beacon and marker; a sophisticated pile of rocks, which their ancestors used to mark their passage; an irony of myriads of millenniums.

The Worm is Turning

George Zimmerman is suing NBC for airing an edited 911 call.  The edited call had an obvious effect on public perception and NBC will find it was expensive - whether intentional, or not.

A digital police photo was reluctantly released during discovery for the upcoming criminal trial. In the photo, Zimmerman's face clearly shows injuries, which I would think lead a rational prosecutor to reserve their efforts to prosecute. However, that's not what happened. Political posturing took precedence and the zeal of advancement clouded the judgement of people that are expected to be unwilling to place political aspirations ahead of justice.

So here we are. Zimmerman's life is forever changed for the worse, except for a possible monetary judgement, which could allow him to survive for the rest of his life out of the public arena. He might be convicted, but I have no doubt an appeal will bring even more evidence of a unbridled prosecutor with a personal agenda. That won't play well at the appellate level; especially with the suit for damages.

If Zimmerman loses in the criminal court, the civil court may be his vindication and any attempts by the defendant (NBC) to settle will only further prove there was a deliberate attempt to railroad Zimmerman for gain.

We'll eventually learn the outcome. Personally, I think this has been a fiasco and those involved with attempting to prosecute Zimmerman have made a huge mistake. Time will tell, but in the future, things will change and I doubt those unwilling to admit their mistakes will find their efforts yielded any gains.

Thursday, December 6, 2012


I had to spend a few minutes thinking what inspired me to think of writing today. I knew it was something I felt was important enough to write about, but I just couldn't retrieve the thought - until just now.

We were retrofitting some bridge rail on a small bridge on a city street. The old rail - which was probably placed in the 40's - was inadequate according to the newest standards.

Anyway, we closed the road at both ends, since the amount of room to work was more than one lane would allow. To accomplish this task, we placed a type three barricade (two legs, three horizontal panels, with reflective tape) with a sign that stated: "Road Closed" at locations which allowed the traffic plenty of time to make the right decision and take another route.

I'll need to digress a little at this point. Yesterday, when the job started, we did the same thing. We had the usual drivers that were a little inconvenienced, but what really caught my attention were the eighteen wheeled trucks and trailers with full loads trying to use the road. Since the bridge is load restricted to weights far below the allowable limits for large trucks, and there are signs stating this fact, I wondered about the truck drivers. Don't they know it's dangerous? How about the huge fines they could face? If they're illiterate, how can they read their gauges and know they're out of fuel?

Today, after about an hour of work, my ears caught the sound of approaching traffic. At the time, we had a one ton truck, a loaded 25 foot gooseneck trailer and a boat load of equipment in the middle of the road. Beside the huge obstruction, the truck had a high intensity visi-bar on the roof, which can be seen for miles.

I looked up to find four cars approaching the job site. I just stood up, held out my arms and said: "What?"

The first car had driven around the barricades and the other three followed like ducks behind their mother. They had no place to go, except back the way they came. So, they did.

As they pulled up, backed, pulled up, backed, pulled up, backed and finally arrived in the right direction to go the way they came, I noticed they cheerfully smiled, waved and mouthed words of apology...not really. They weren't happy, although I really didn't care. In fact, I felt moments of extreme happiness as I watched them realize their foolishness, showed their anger (even well dressed people, in nice cars, have a salty vocabulary) because I had the audacity to make their road safer, and hoped they were late because they were so arrogant to think I put up barricades to intentionally ruin their day.

There's a lesson to be learned here, but I doubt seriously those drivers have enough mental clarity to understand. They're too least they think they are.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Media Irony

The liberal segment of the media is not doing really well financially. Those that read, or watch these outlets are not as plentiful as in the past.

The progressive line of thinking - originally a response to harsh work, and living conditions introduced by an industrialized society - promotes better conditions for those that turn the bolts and grease the wheels. It's a noble idea, but the use of government to instill these social changes has unacceptable results: People that produce are now outnumbered by those that don't. They labor, only to watch neighbors, and entire sections of society, basically live a life that demands nothing and expect their stipend without any effort on their part. To make matters worse, politicians become very wealthy, while those that create the money the politicians take without remorse, struggle to pay the enormous costs associated with taxes, regulations and inflation created to fund the "social programs" that allow laziness and irresponsible behavior.

So here we are, with the progressive, liberal media in the process of finding out even the most ill-informed realize the media's culpability in destroying the path to a life that allows more than what the government decides is best. People that dream of financial sustainability know the media is responsible for helping remove this possibility and respond by not subscribing to, or watching, the media outlets with the most obvious progressive agenda.

Meanwhile, the supposedly well informed media is not accepting responsibility, attacking those that actually have a productive function in society and rationalizing their actions. I find that ironic. Those that have the best resources to provide accurate information are feckless, uninformed shills to a failed social experiment. 

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Lights in the Desert

Sam gazed at the last remnants of the setting sun. Brilliant oranges were gone; the horizon was a pale orange with a deep pastel blue slowly fading to the almost black skies of night.

His thoughts had wandered to the past and the first time he visited this spot in the desert. Solitary by nature, he would spend his spare time looking for places in the desert rarely or unvisited by humans. This was one, and required a short hike to reach. It was more than special and he'd only shared it with one other person.

The first time he was here, it was the second evening after a rare rain storm. The desert was blooming and the flowers appeared alien in the sparse landscape. Deciding to camp for the night, he'd pitched a small tent and soon fell into a deep sleep after dark.

It was after midnight when he awoke. The night was without a breeze and almost silent. Unaccustomed to such silence, he left the tent and gazed into the night.

The stars appeared globular in the deep darkness of the desert night. After a few minutes of gazing, he realized the bright stars seemed to blaze in what could only be described as a silver background of small diamonds on black velvet. The Milky Way was like a brilliant smudge of light that ran from horizon to horizon.

Young, and unaccustomed to such a display, Sam was awed by the splendor of the heavens. He spent long moments scanning the sky. Every section brought new vistas of delight. He felt a wonder, and contentment, he'd never felt before.

It was almost an hour before Sam's attention wandered from the skies. Gazing across the desert, he found something that broke his thoughts and spent a few moments wondering if he was hallucinating.

Dim, multicolored globes of light seemed to drift among the flowers as though gently pushed by a breeze. They were small; maybe only a few inches across; and stopped for short moments at each flower, which was briefly bathed in the dim light.

Straining his eyes, he could see something quite small in the center of each globe. He couldn't tell what it was, but they seemed to have appendages similar to small humans, which grasped the flowers for a few moments, as though harvesting something from each flower.

Sam watched for hours, barely moving; he feared too much movement would cause the globes to leave. When the zodiacal light appeared, the globes seemed to congregate in one spot, which soon grew to a large silver globe. Slowly accelerating, the ever shrinking globe disappeared among the stars.

The sound of a jet pulled Sam's attention away from his thoughts. Looking up, he saw the tiny flashes from the navigation lights of a jet, which was tens of thousands of feet above the desert. Within minutes, the sound faded and the flashing specks of light soon disappeared towards the horizon.

Sam returned to his thoughts and his second visit to this secret spot. It was around twenty years after his first visit and he wasn't sure if it would be as wonderful as his first.

He'd brought his wife, with the plan of a surprise. He could only hope the first event wasn't an isolated occurrence. The thought it was an isolated event prevented him from ever discussing his first visit. His wife, who also loved the isolation of the desert, was only thinking of spending the night in a spot that was covered with flowers from a rare rain shower. She was awed by the beauty and voiced her anticipation of the sunset that would soon arrive.

As the sun set, and the beautiful sky slowly faded, his wife asked: "Should we light a lantern?"

Sam only had a short reply: "No. It will spoil the beautiful night. There's enough light to see."

After the sun set, and they spent a few long minutes viewing the night sky, both turned in and soon fell into sleep.

It was before midnight when Sam awoke. Slowly leaving the small tent, he gazed into the beautiful night sky for a few minutes before he would even look at the desert. He was apprehensive and hopeful, but knew how disappointed he'd be if there was nothing to see.

Sam decided it was time, and scanned the desert for the small globes. Within seconds, he realized they weren't to be found. Disappointed, he gazed for a few more minutes and made the decision it was only a fluke, or he had indeed hallucinated. He'd return to the tent and keep his secret forever.

"It's beautiful."

Sam found his wife had left the tent and was sitting at his side. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice her quiet exit from the tent.

Feeling selfish, Sam found her presence and appreciation brought him joy. It was beautiful and the isolation was intoxicating.

Quietly replying, Sam's voice reflected his awe of the night: "It's more than beautiful."

The spent a few long minutes in silence, which was broken by a question from his wife: "That hazy star is beautiful."

In the dim light, Sam could see his wife pointing to a spot in the sky. Looking towards the spot revealed a hazy star, which slowly grew larger, as though it was coming closer.

Within a few seconds, Sam realized it looked just like the globe he'd seen decades before.

"What is it? It's seem to be getting bigger."

"Just wait. You'll soon see."

The silver globe slowly settled to a spot right above the ground. Within seconds, dim, multicolored globes of light appeared and drifted apart into the desert. Soon, they were drifting among the flowers; just like before.

In a whisper, his wife asked: "What are they?"

Sam whispered a reply: "I don't know, but I've seen them before."

"Should we try to take a picture?"

"No. If we do, they may disappear forever"

Over the next hours, they both watched, almost in silence, as the globes drifted among the flowers.

As the zodiacal light appeared, the small globes merged into the large silver globe, which slowly disappeared among the stars.

After that night, he made a pact with his wife: They'd never say anything to anyone about their experience.

Sam drifted off to sleep, while thinking of how it seemed like it was only yesterday; even though two decades had passed.

Sam awoke after midnight. His seventy year old joints ached in the night chill. Slowly rising, he realized he'd fallen asleep where he sat watching the sunset.

Again, the night sky was awe inspiring. He only glanced at the sky for moment, before searching the desert for the globes. They were there. Floating among the flowers, with purpose and as wonderful as before.

They were closer this time. Sam could make out the tiny figures as they wandered between the flowers. Some, which surprised Sam, drifted very close and hovered within arms reach. The tiny figures appeared as tiny humans; suited in silver and seemingly inquisitive of the old man that sat quietly and observed.

Sam only watched. He wanted to reach out an touch the globes, but feared his movement would cause them to leave.

Over the next few hours, Sam watched, wondered and pushed the thoughts aside that told him this was his last visit. He doubted he could ever make a future visit unattended and felt such a special place was to never be revealed.

When the zodiacal light appeared, the globes merged into the large silver globe once again. As Sam watched, it slowly drifted towards him, stopped within a few feet and hovered almost within arms reach.

The silver globe was a myriad of tiny figures; all on one side. Sam felt as though he was being observed and wondered if he was.

After a few minutes, the globe slowly drifted upwards and accelerated into the sky. Soon, it was only a pin point among the stars that faded away.

It wasn't long before the sun appeared on the horizon. Sam gathered his belongings, made the short hike to his car and placed them in the trunk. Pausing, he looked at the flowers that would soon disappear. Reaching, he picked a small bouquet and placed them on the front seat.

As he drove away, Sam's thoughts were of his last visit, the visits before and the plan to make a short stop on the way home. He'd place the bouquet on his wife's grave. She'd like that. She always loved flowers and the desert.

The Thoughts Just Aren't Coming

Maybe it's because there are so many and pulling individual thoughts is too complicated. It's that, or my thoughts have been too dark for the last few weeks. Constantly revealing dark thoughts defeats creativity, unless the goal is a foreboding tale of despair, with defeat.

Anyway, eventually the drought of creativity will end. Hopefully soon.