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“On a night when bad dreams become a screamer,
When they’re messin’ with the dreamer,
I can laugh it in the face,
Twist and shout my way out,
And wrap yourself around me,
‘Cos I ain’t the way you found me.
And I’ll never be the same,…”


You Make My Dreams
Hall And Oates

I have come to the sad realization that there are certain things that transpire, that are seemingly innocent, but bears witness to where we stand today. One of those things is almost innocuous to the naked eye. Let me explain….

I do believe, after a certain amount of cursory study, that most thirty-year-olds and below now have broken glass screens on their Iphones and Androids. Why this is, I may or may not know.

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The screens still operate. They still do the same thing that they always did….but they are indeed broken. They have the same spider vein cracks going through the glass. But they keep operating.

But why is it that people basically under thirty have this dynamic going on with their phones when people over thirty do not? I can only speculate. And this is my speculation.

There seems to be an attitude of that, “It’s not that important. If it breaks, it breaks. What are you gonna do?”

I wish I had that kinda attitude. It’s a fault of my own making. My ass would be in a pucker should I break the glass on my iphone. The problem with me is that, of course, I am so anal retentive.

I think, in all honestly, that I wouldn’t rest until it was fixed. They, however, carry on like the post apocalyptic generation that they are.

(The apocalypse took place when Obama refused to close the borders and when that dude in Syria lost his head….James Foley. That was the pre-apocalypse actually…the apocalypse occurred a few day later…. )

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Anyway….

“Come ride the little train that is rolling down the tracks,
to the junction….
Forget about your cares,
it is time to relax at the junction.


Petticoat Junction Theme Song
Paul Henney and Curt Massey

I think I’m getting too long winded. I rarely have anything of import to say. (By those first two lines, you can see this is a confessional so no hard feelings if you click the red X in the stage right corner of the screen. That’s OK. I’m cool with that.)

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I used to be funny. I used to be witty and urbane. The times we live in are tapping me out however. I got nothin’ to say anymore.

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That’s OK too. So be it.

I try and think of things to talk about but they remain ever elusive. Sometimes an idea will meld itself but will be lost on the midnight drive home.There’s just nothing left to say. What it comes down to is that I am on the losing side of history. I can, however, rip off a few more top ten’s and the world will be as right as rain for a while,…but that will simply be a panacea for having nothing else to say.

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To have a blog means that what you say has some valuable import, doesn’t it? It’s supposed to convey something. I just fear that my resources are exhausted. When I have nothing else to say, I simply sit down at my piano and play the piano part of Layla. It provides me no inspiration, of course, it just keeps my fingers nimble for just a few more weeks. That’s it. That’s all.

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I went and got blood drawn today for labs that my Dr. ordered. I fear this will be the end of me. Not because of some gloom and doom disease, but because my luck is having the anvil dropped on my head the second I walk out of the office. That’s what life is like right now. I hope it’s not that way for you.

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In any event, this is where I am. I may bounce back and I may be dead within a week. Who knows?

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Anyway,…

“Mason’s gone to Zanzibar,
Underneath his panama,
Out in the boundary.
Fading in the evening sun,
Hopelessly panglossian,
Out on the boundary.

There’s no surprise.
There’s peace in his eyes,
On the Boundary….”


The Duckworth Lewis Method
Mason On The Boundry

I decided to just throw caution to the wind today and just make some serious comfort food. I suppose I don’t need an excuse to do that. I do it enough,…but for some reason, I just decided to make some good old-fashioned Italian food.

There’s no real recipe for this and, even if there was, I’m not sure I have the fortitude to write it out. The pictures are self-explanatory. I will lay them out here in case anyone wants to go for broke and make it themselves. It’s really just sweet peppers and mild italian sausage….make a pot of spaghetti, crack a jar of sauce and it’s done. I made a gallery on top for close-ups of all the pics….

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So, I watched two Wes Anderson films today. The Life Aquatic and The Darjeeling Express. Can’t say I loved either one of them but they weren’t the worst movies I’d ever seen. Owen Wilson does a pretty good job in all of his flicks. I just think I didn’t find the characters really that likable or something. I just couldn’t connect with them or something. Maybe that’s a flaw in my own character or something.

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Both pictures in this double feature were actually pretty visually stunning. (That’s me trying to sound like a bonafide film critic. You use terms like “visually stunning.”) Anderson a big fan of the cutaway set, isn’t he? I really liked that aspect of it. The fact that there was that interplay was reminiscent of Hitchcock’s, “Rope”. To not cut the film but to cut the set instead. I liked that part of it. That really is thinking outside of the box, so to speak.

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The story lines of both films left a little to be desired however. I’m afraid that I’m either really pretty dumb or, worst yet, not very deep. Both films had Anjelica Houston in them and in both films she kinda creeped me out. I think that was because she was living with Jack Nicholson when Roman Polanski did his dirty deed with the 13 year-old back in ’74. That happened in Jack and Anjelica’s house ya know. Maybe that’s why she creeped me out. I don’t know. (I believe I read somewhere that she was even home when it happened. I could be wrong in that though.)

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Jack doesn’t creep me out when I see him. I can watch Jack all day and be amused. It’s just something about Anjelica Houston that bothers me. She’s kinda cold and aloof, ain’t she? I gotta wonder if that’s her true character.

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In any event, I just felt like the story lines petered out. Like there was some serious potential for both of them but they never quite got there. Out of the two, I would have to say I actually laughed more at The Life Aquatic,…but I really like the Darjeeling Limited better. (Can’t really say that I liked the part about the guy being in India when his wife was expecting however…that was kinda cold.)

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Bill Murray was in both flicks. What accounted for his presence in The Darjeeling Limited is anybody’s guess of course. There was no point in that character…unless he was supposed to be this symbol of what happens when you miss a train in life. Other than that, nothing accounted for his presence. Anybody could have played that part. They coulda got Ron Howard’s little brother Clint to play that. It was that strong of a role.

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As far as The Life Aquatic, there’s this rule of thumb that you don’t kill the hero until the end,…if he has to die. If you break that rule, you need to do it right. Hitchcock’s Psycho was a perfect example of it being done right. He kills off Marion Crane in the middle, but he seamlessly replaced her with Norman….who, in spite of being a psycho, became somewhat the helpless hero.

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I think the strongest features of both movies was the visuals. I think I could watch them both again for that alone. I also have to say that, were I to watch them again, I might actually do so with headphones on with The Duckworth Lewis Method playing. The depth of The Darjeeling Limited was a bit over my head. I mean, does anyone really have that much time to analyze their life?

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I know I don’t. I stopped doing that when I hit 24. I’ve found that too much introspection is not really that great for me. It might be for others, but not me, babe.

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He did make good use of the panning cameras in both flicks though. I’ll give him that. The fluid slide to the right and left (without dialogue) can really capture a scene. That’s when the actors really have to have their game on. It’s that timing thing. Since it was so fluid, I have to really wonder if it was either easy or difficult. You can’t really tell. Of course, it looks easy,…I guess that’s the point. I suppose that’s all that really matters when it comes to the final product.

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Anderson also uses colors to tell his stories. I thought that was pretty cool. Just inserting a predominate color into the whole movie and keeping it there. In the Darjeeling Limited, it was the color blue. In the Life Aquatic, it was yellow and red. (I think. Watching them back to back, I might be a bit confused about that.)

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You almost have to watch both of them back to back to get the feel for him as a film maker actually. Since these were probably the only two movies of his that I’ve ever watched, that might have to be a given. Maybe the continuity of his method might’ve escaped me if I watched both of them three months apart. I don’t really have that great of a memory anymore.

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Bill Murray always seems likable in anything that he does. I think it’s because of that true irish face that he has. Yet, he wasn’t that likable in The Life Aquatic. It might be because he will always be Carl Spackler to me. (I know, I know. 1980 was a long time ago and in a galaxy far, far away. Let the past go, Dan.)

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I did really like the scene where he took on all the pirates himself. That was actually a pretty good scene…and the fact that the pirates were all dressed like street thugs. That made me laugh.

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Ya know,…I really hate to say this at this point, but they were actually pretty good movies in hindsight. They wouldn’t rank up there with my favorites, but they were pretty good. When the guy popped Jeff Goldblum, I thought that was the end of him. The next scene has him running, covered in blood, but experiencing no apparent pain. That was pretty funny actually.

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The pepper spray scene in The Darjeeling Limited also made me chuckle quite a bit. And when the one brother chucked that belt into Owens’ face. It was funny, but it made me wince for a second. That was actually something me OR my brother would actually do….

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I just had a hard time with the guy being in India when his wife was about to deliver. That kinda stuff rattles around the back of my brain during the entire course of the movie. To me, it wasn’t the tension between the brothers and the mother. It was the fact that he’s off in India trying to “find himself” while she’s at home about to drop a kid. In that, I probably missed the take home of that flick. It would have done nothing to the storyline if they removed that one aspect of the story and kept everything else in tact.

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Anyway,…

“I’m all lost in the supermarket,
I can no longer shop happily,
I came in here for that special offer,
A guaranteed personality…”

The Clash
Lost In The Supermarket

Hell has indeed frozen over.

Lebron James returned to Cleveland, Tommy Ramone died…and I found myself standing in a “Whole Foods” outlet.

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Yes, my friends, hell has frozen over.

Whole Foods is this place where you go when you want to pay expensive prices for food that tastes rather bland. That’s not a knock on the store. I think the tragedy at play here is that I was actually in it without really needing to be.

Given a choice between a Big Mac and some Arthur Treacher’s fried fish and chips (with hushpuppies), I would enthusiastically take them both and think it absolutely normal to do so.

Let’s face it. I was in there under duress, OK? There. I said it. Someone made me go there with them.

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Here’s the thing I want to underscore here. What you have in there are millennial hippies. They work there. They are patrons of the place. Some of the guys that work there have that Amish beard thing goin’ on. They wear the color tan. Do you know what I’m talking about? Sometimes they wear polo shirts with striped colors,….but the strange thing about that? The colors of the stripes seem amazingly dull. They have pierced ears and semi long hair. They no doubt ride their vintage Schwinn’s to work when the weather is conducive to it.

My question is simply this:

Is this what the millennial hippies of 2014 aspire to in their walk of life? To sell and buy over-priced bland food?

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If it is, that’s not necessarily a bad goal to to have. I am totally down if they are happy at their vocation. I really am. Not too many people find the work that they want to do these days. (If they can find work at all)

The thing is, they looked happy. Probably more happy than I look at my job. So, in essence, I was a bit jealous of them.

That’s alright. I don’t eat healthy as a habit. Being a Teamster, eating healthy is somewhat akin to a cat taking a bath. I would rather die than do it and you will get the same ear-splitting histrionics out of me as you would a cat with an impending water bath. Ugliness afoot all around.

It was just a dashed odd observation, that’s all.

They had everything there however. I’ll give them that. They even had,…what is it?….organic beer there?

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It was then that I felt as if I was in a museum. I looked in awe, studied it and knew it was well out of my price range,…so I better not touch it. But it sure was interesting to look at,….knowing I could never have it….by choice and by pocketbook.

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It was an odd day, to say the least.

Right before we went in there, we had just dined at a place that served us something called a “crab-stack” and “Creme cilantro chicken with red-skinned potatoes with roasted corn and cheese”.

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There’s the old adage: “Don’t go shopping hungry. You spend less if you eat first.”

This is the one exception to the rule. Even if I was hungry, I wouldn’t have bought anything in the place.

My other half, however,….did.

With extreme predjudice.

Anyway,…

So on we go,…
His welfare is of my concern.
No burden is he to bear,
We’ll get there.

For I know,
He would not encumber me.
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother….”


The Hollies
He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother

Rep. Steve Stockman (R-Texas) announced on Thursday that he has filed a resolution directing the House sergeant-at-arms to “arrest Lois Lerner for contempt of Congress” over the IRS targeting scandal.

Stockman said in a statement that asking the U.S. Department of Justice to prosecute Lerner for “admittedly illegal activity” is a “joke.” Instead, the Republican said it is up to the U.S. House to “uphold the rule of law and hold accountable those who illegally targeted American citizens for simply having different ideas than the President.”

Under the proposed resolution, Lerner would be held in a Washington, D.C., jail and would be given access to an attorney and all her constitutional rights.

All her Constitutional rights. She has access to all her Constitutional rights. How patently ironic it is, isn’t it? The same document that she wants to destroy is the one that she needs to hide behind. I would love to be a fly on that wall when they come to take her. (Which they probably never will, of course. To arrest means to charge. To charge means to pardon and that’s what she will undoubtedly get from the Obama administration.)

But!….on the flip side of that? I would love to see her in handcuffs and sitting in the back of a police car just once! That would be the ultimate photo-op for the up coming mid-term TV commercials.

But that’s not what I wanted to talk about here. I really wanted to talk about Lois in a more serious and refined manner. The fact of the matter is that Lois has more pressing problems than simply being arrested by Congress for targeting the tea-party. This revelation delves into absolute madness, my friends.

The thing I want to talk about is the Lerner doppleganger factor. This can potentially have a damaging effect on her future career choices if it ever comes to light….if she ever sees the light of day again and in the highly improbable chance that she may ever have a career again.

I am speaking, of course, about the Golem factor.

The year? 1920! The country? Germany! The star? Paul Wegener! The Movie? The GOLEM!!!

(I have to point out that the comparisons are not for the faint of heart.)

It can also be said that the Golem was actually a good guy….unlike Lerner who,…umm,….how shall I say this?

“ISN’T”

Be that as it may, let’s just take a look at this incredible doppelganger freak of nature, shall we?

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Lois Lerner (left) The Golem (right)

The hairstyle is almost exactly the same, isn’t it, kids? Freaky, to say the least. The golem looks a little more approachable however.

Moving on….

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The Golem,…I mean Lois Lerner (left) The Golem (right)

They both carry purses in their left hands. That means they both must be left handed! Dopplegangers who have the same primary hand! What are the odds of that?!!…and they wear the same jacket!!!

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Lois Lerner (left) The Golem (right)

They both have a look of defiance on their face here. Lois’s defiance is at Congress,…like a petulant spoiled child….The Golem’s look says, “You want to get it on, you stupid democrats? I’ll smack the taste outta your mouth. Bring it on you punks!”

Geez. You can hardly tell the two apart. They’re brothers from different mothers.

Anyway,….

“So take the photographs, and still-frames in your mind.
Hang it on the shelf of good health and good time.
Tattoo’s of memories and dead skin on trial.
For what it’s worth, it was worth all the while.
It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right,
I hope you had the time of your life….”


Green Day
Good Riddance (The Time Of Your Life)

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Know what I miss?

Motorcycle cops. They just don’t exist anymore, do they? They’d pull up next to you at a stoplight and then they would look to the right or left and then give you one of those silent, almost imperceptible nods as if to say, “Hey. What’s goin’ on, man?”…..from behind mirrored sunglasses and from behind a mustache. I miss that.

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Now, our police are militarized. They drive tanks and Humvees. They need them to carry stun guns and AR-15s and that kinda shit…..They’re not as personable when they drive those. They still look to the right and to the left,…it’s just that,…umm,…you don’t.

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Know what I miss?

Carburetors. That finely designed and fragile fuel-injection artifact that could take all sorts of heavy-duty abuse. Nothing could be better on a frigid winter morning than to walk out of your house with a freakin’ can of ether in one hand and a freakin’ “Goody” comb in the other. You pop the hood to your Chevelle, take off the BIG, ROUND AIR CLEANER, pop that rocker back and spray that ether into your carb. You stick the ass end of the “Goody” comb in to hold the rocker in place, jump into your car and fire it up, replace the air filter and you’re on your way, baby. (This action, btw, would take 15 seconds.)

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Now, we have the E-checks. There’s a computer in your car that you are REGULATED to have checked (at certain intervals) to see if there is any hi-jinks going on in the car when the EPA isn’t looking. This organization’s sole purpose is to be a watch dog over your automobile. If they detect ether, you don’t get your stickers, Mister!! And you will pay a mechanic dearly as penance.

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Know what I miss? T.V’s (Television’s)”The Flying Nun”. Sally Field was so great as that tiny troublemaking nun that could fly when she lifted up her little nun,…habit,…hat…thing. I miss that. She would be shooting marbles with dirty little orphans and, at a moment’s notice, she would be flying through mountains to get to the scene of some untowardly actions so she can single-handedly take down a Peruvian drug lord. I miss that. I miss “The Flying Nun”.

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Now we have The Little Kardashian Sisters Of The Poor doing sex on the internet with Vegas taking odds on how long one or two of the marriages would last along with battles in court to keep “The Flying Nun” off the air in re-runs because the atheists are supposedly “offended” by her presence on THEIR air waves.

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Know what I miss?

The Clash. The only band that mattered and who sweated onstage to make a living and a change. These guys played Bonds in NYC for two weeks straight because the promotor “oversold” all of the shows. They wanted to honor every last ticket sold so they stayed until every last fan was played to. (1982)

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Now we have Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus “who just don’t like going to work”,….as said so very appropriately by Sir Paul McCartney. They were chastised by him! Chastised, I say! Chastised by Sir Paul himself!!

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Know what I miss?

I miss the days when you could actually buy vinyl. The art work on the album cover was always second to none. Hell, I miss the days when you could actually buy a cassette tape. Hell, I even miss the days when you could buy a CD!

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Now we have downloadable music that can’t be burned to a CD and can only be listened to on certain “devices” that you have to prove you own before you can do it.

Know what I miss?

Everything.

Anyway,…

“No kiddin’,
I’m ready to fight,
I’ve been lookin’ for my baby all night,
If I get her in my sight,
Boom boom! ONE MORE! Out go the lights!….”

Pat Travers
Boom, Boom, Out Go The Lights

In my line of work, there’s a certain din that must transpire to make the world seem right as rain. It’s not annoying. It’s a din. The simple monotone hum that is all around me when I’m at work. It’s a comforting din. It’s a familiar din. It’s my din.

I know the din of my own machines. The machinery burps and hums. It drones and moans. It rumbles and prattles and tumbles and rattles. I know each sound and what it means when. I know each sound and when they go silent, I start them again!,….(said Sam, I am….I do like green eggs and ham!)

That said, there is nothing worse than when the din goes silent due to a power outage.

Blast!

Anyway…

“So I walk up on high,
And I step to the edge
To see my world below.
And I laugh at myself,…”


Collective Soul
The World I Know

What does it mean when I wake up and have visual flashes that I am falling off a sky-scraper or out of a plane? It’s like vertigo, and I always wake up that way now. Any idea?

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Anyway,….

“Turned away from it all like a blind man,
Sat on a fence but it don’t work,
Keep coming up with love but it’s so slashed and torn,
Why, why, why?….”


Queen
Under Pressure

I said it here first. I knew this was going to happen. It was in my “Be Your Way” post found here:

https://scabiesoftherat.wordpress.com/2014/05/23/be-your-way/

I am not going to belabor the semantics of this issue. I just want to point out how abjectly stupid and mind-numbing this all is. We now have a burger joint appealing to us through our sexual habits. It’s like a kitchen appliance company appealing to us through our driving habits. It makes zero sense at all. Maybe we could have a chair company appeal to us through our toe-clipping habits.

If the burger company had some vague connection with the sexual preferences of people, I would say “great”. Knock yourselves out. By all means.

But they don’t, do they? A fast food hamburger place has nothing to do with the intimacy of two people. If said burger place was renown as a place where particular lovers like to congregate to sit and cuddle, I would even buy that. But it’s not, is it? Not by a long shot.

Fast Food is called fast food for a reason. It was meant to be a relief to the working class who have no time during a half hour lunch break. You drive down and get your burger fast, eat it fast and get back to work fast. That’s how they advertised it way back when. It was more appealing to the duress of the common man…..not the duress of the common man’s junk, as it were.

This is not cuisine and an establishment that one would even take their lover to,…I mean, if they knew what was good for them.

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They have rather sterile lighting, a soft drink dispenser, hard seats, crappy napkins, loud kids, grease fires on occasion. That whole picture has nothing to do with people’s sexual preferences. Not by a long shot, my friend. Not by a long shot.

And don’t think I’m mad about it either. I just can’t wrap my head around it, that’s all.

Cripes.

Stupid lefty agendas.

Anyway…..

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