Mind Control Cults

On the train to Muenchen

God Bless America

After much strong arming on which I'll not elaborate for obvious legal reasons, I have acquired "earthmann" at MySpace.

Please visit me there some time.

Remember every visit increases the advertising revenue that Rupert Murdoch promises to use in the acquisition of ever more media. I think we all appreciate the diligence of Fox News and all its little brothers and sisters. So do your part in our ongoing struggle to protect fair censorship and balanced propaganda.

Please visit me at MYspace. Look I even made a link for you. That's how important this is to me. Here's another. You are just one click away from helping to make this beautiful world an even better place.

Blessings to you and your family.

Does anyboby know what happened to this guy?

"You're good at basketball"

Never before in the history of man, real or imagined, have those words been directed at me. Until now. Those who have winessed my vertical jump, or the way I shoot the ball like a little girl, can marvel at this fact: On this side of the planet people claim with a straight face that I am a really good ball player. Pretty wierd, huh?

Remember kids, don't believe your own press.

This is my only niece.

Photo tip of the day: When your picture is out of focus just over saturate, bump contrast, alter the hue, and then Wham Bam Boom! Who cares?

I like pretty colors.

Backstage, Bangkok, Thailand

On the first Midnight Mile.

The street is lit sporadically. The occasional lamp post contends with the broad leaf jungle trees that canvas the street. A cool depression wind blows from the Northeast. Grumbling beneath their breath, mountains of clouds flicker on and off, flashing like a pool of cameras, flashing me back to the newspaper men that used to follow me around town after The Monkey Incident, barking my name.

The Bangkok street dogs: They have names, but not homes. They are not fed, yet they eat. They bolt awake in mangy packs. Confused perhaps by the sight of the hairy lank of bone white man running down their narrow chunk of road in the still of the night. Confused perhaps, but angry for sure.



They come charging awake, guns barking, making towards me until I bark back, louder, meaner. They back down but barely, and I worry. Maybe these dogs would see me running and think I was running from them, weak, scared. I keep my eye peeled for a stick.

Not scared, just scarred. Long ago, when they used to sell fresh peaches by on the side of the road, a mad Texas dog's jaw gave my leg a go. Now I've ugly little scars, four of them, like cigarette burns, raised and rosy. Ugly little things, those scars. I need want anymore.

I pull a thumb-thick switch of a rotten branch that lay street side in a pile of garbage. It was slick to the touch, and I almost imagined what could have made it so, but instead push this out of my mind. It couldn't be pretty. Body fluids rarely are.

Up ahead, beneath the spot of a lonely street light, a dog pissed on an old tire. His eyes already locked my way, and when he has all four legs back on the ground he takes the middle of the street and takes to barking mean.

The streets here are as narrow as a back alley. Even though I steer clear of the dog, not more than a couple of feet separate us as I swing past, both of us barking ferociously, he barely flinches when I swing the stick his way. Then he comes for the back of my heels.

I stop and turn and growl, brandishing what suddenly seemed a twig. I had only intended the stick for a prop, not really thinking I'd have to use it. The rotten thing will fall apart on impact, into splinters if it weren't so wet.

No matter. The dog settles, and I am jogging again, making a point to get a sturdier stick.

A few dead-ends later, I know I'll have to return home the same way I came. I rummage through a construction site and find a couple of feet worth of two by four. It's too large to carry in one hand, and I cradle it like those men in the Army commercials carry there M-16's as they run towards the camera...

Doing more before nine a.m...

I am ready for the doggy gauntlet.

So yea, running is great. You know, it really is a very relaxing, meditative time, and to think only last week I considered a gym membership. What's in a gym? Fleurescent lights and sterile equipment.

The nurses brigade, Bangkok

Newsweek, Is that you?

Why I talk so crazy sometimes:

"The Justice Department argued this point explicitly last November, in the case of a Baltimore-area resident named Majid Khan, who was held for more than three years by the C.I.A. Khan, the government said, had to be prohibited from access to a lawyer specifically because he might describe the 'alternative interrogation methods' that the agency had used when questioning him. These methods amounted to a state secret, the government argued, and disclosure of them could 'reasonably be expected to cause extremely grave damage.' (The case has not yet been decided.)

Now, can we please have avery serious national conversation about the corpse of Anna Nicole Smith. Or how about an editorial or two more about John Edward's hair obsession. Oh, wait, I know, let's talk about the sneak preveiw of "Boobs of Hillary".

No, I'm sorry Mr. Lewis. That will not be possible for atleast another 48 hours.

WHAT?! Has Paris Hilton found Jesus, again?

No, sir, another underage slender white girl has come up missing. Will be Amber Alert 'til Tuesday. She's a cutie.

Seriously:

Calling Dr. Gore... Surgery... Calling Dr. Gore... Surgery...

In honor of not forgetting to put a bumper sticker on your car that says "Support Your Troops":

Brig. Gen. William Troy: ...I am afraid that with the number of soldiers we now have in harm’s way, our losses will preclude us from continuing to do individual memorial ceremonies...


Translation: We sure can't keep givin' funerals to all them dead people.

The D.C.P.R.B.S.: The surge is working, or it will soon, in a few months, I mean September, or, rather December. I mean a permanent troop presence. I mean- what was the question?

Main Street: Can I, like, biggie size a double mocha grande latte?

A.M. radio: Them pussyfoot liberals are too scared to for a good cockfight. Look at all these dead soldiers. Just think how many would die if they controlled two branches of government.

Southern Baptist: I wonder what church Rush Limbaugh goes to? He sure sounds like a good Christian man.

Preacher: Let's pray for our dear leader as he leads our country through these difficult times.

A little kid on the back pew who hasn't learned to be a Good Christian American: Mom, why does America kill so many people if God said don't kill?

Me: God just doesn't understand the geopolitical realities of the modern world, little man.

Dick Cheney: Don't make me shoot you in the face.

As most of you know my acting career is now in full swing.

Andre Enzenberger's "Ralf and Johnny" has now been accepted into the Thin Line Film Fest. Being that Andre is one of my favorite people in the Whole Wide World, and given that I am the "Johnny" half of this project, I have filed this moment under "Supe Dupe Cool".

As a footnote, I should also mention that my first big screen appearance, in "Screen Door Jesus" as Theologian #4, is now available on DVD.

Congradulations, Enzi. And, once again, thank you for the experience.

Okie Dopey
Oklahoma! I smell Trouble my friends! And that starts with "T", and that rhymes with "G", and that stands for Global. (W.O.T.?)



This liscense plate is available only in Oklahoma. The rest of us will have to think of other ways to express our love for imaginary wars.

Why the French think they are better than us, Reason #465

"So you can be involved in totally innocent calls or e-mails with a friend or your cousin in London, and the government can spy on your communications without a warrant, without your knowledge and without the knowedge or approval of the FISA court. You can’t get access to what they learned or what they did with that information. All you’ll know is that you or your friend/cousin/kid/colleague can’t get on a plane. Or someone disappears. Oh, and as a result of the 6th Circuit Court overturning a District Court’s ruling that the original TSP was unconstitutional, you don’t have standing to challenge this wholesale eviseration of the 4th Amendment. No court review; just Alberto and Rove.

Bear in mind that every time you open up the comments section of Firedoglake, you are in communication with other readers in other countries. Facebook is now a venue for spying. Or maybe your kids are travelling in Europe and want to call or e-mail home. Or you order something from a Danish firm. Would you trust Alberto Gonzales to decide whether spying on you was reasonable, knowing he never had to be accountable to anyone? Do you trust Karl Rove to deal with the information they gather?"

-Firedoglake

This is exactly what the nation, especially Democrats should be talking about right now: "What will the Democrats do to restore Constitutional Government?" This is something that seems so obvious, but yet our candidates are not even touching upon the issues that, for me, are the most grave. We now live in a country where the laws are subject to the whims of a tyranny. You could quibble about my semantics, but the substance of these words is undoubtedly true. Let the one who wishes to lead this nation, please step up and outline exactly which policies you will abandon, which practices you will restore, which closed doors you will reopen...

I could on, but either you know this stuff, or you tuned out long ago there is no point in talking to you. (Hello, AM Radio listeners.) So, I am asking those that think this King George the W of ours is so unfit for office, then why are we not requiring our candidates to be on the record with what exactly they will do and undo...

Or we can just keep talking Hillary's nonexistant cleavage, until the horrors that our government are wrecking upon our country and the world become so institutionalized, it would take generations to correct course(if ever). This coming election provides a golden opportunity to begin restoring what Bush and his henchmen have stolen, but only if we make it so.

Or we can have another round table discussion about John Edward's hair.

Be warned. This blog has had many different lifes, and for sure a few deaths. Lately, I was using it to funnel new pictures, and I will continue placing new images on the blog. However, I have added a "recent work" page to the site, and now this page will revert to its original purpose, which was me ranting, and/or linking to what I sometimes find interesting.

I scribbled down a few hundred words a couple days ago, and have since removed it because I don't want to offend certain people who I have sent to this page. This consideration will not be extended much further. I will keep the language to a "G" rating, but I will not be holding my tongue.

The function of this site is product-oriented not market-oriented, meaning I am going to express what I want to express, and am not going to keep running everything through the subcommittees in my mind making sure I am not going to offend loved ones with my honesty.

Peace.

Another Wat, Nong Khai, Thailand (Not AP standard)

Let's say you hear music coming from a cheap PA system that pours from a truck that rolls slowly along as some children (and adults) rush out of their homes. You might think it was an ice cream truck, and you would be wrong. It is a Monk Mobile, my word, bestowing blessings on all would kneel at the bed.

Plowing, Nong Khai, Thailand

Plowing, Nong Khai, Thailand

Crossing the street, Bangkok

Raincatcher, Nong Khai, Thailand