Friday, June 29, 2007

Some like it hot. The Washington Post newspaper printed a very interesting and scary long piece on our Vice President, "Dick" Cheney. "Dick Cheney is the most influential and powerful man ever to hold the office of vice president". He also has the most accurate first name of any vice president we've had. He is the "damage control" that never happened in this administration. He is the "bad news" that we continue to be sent. He shoots his friends in the face and gets away with it. His enemies are never heard from again. He has a wicked sneer. He gets what he wants, whatever the price. He is the rotten part that is hidden until you bite into the apple, and only then can taste the rot. He won't go away. He is the cancer that can't be treated; the acid rain that continues to rain upon us.
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Wednesday, June 27, 2007

I am a conflicted individual. I like an image that is all there, all at once; that I can look at and see the underlining "story" immediately. But I also like an image that takes some time to organize itself, that has more of a story to tell and that tells me that larger story as I look at it. It all has to do, I suppose, with the workings of my imagination and how little distracted I am at the moment. I want to know who this lady is and why she is reading a newspaper, alone, at a diner. I don't think she works there, but I am guessing that she visits the diner often. Does she always come alone? Does she always sit at this end of the diner or is she here this time because it is far away from everyone else and so she can enjoy her quiet read in peace. As I look, I fill in the blanks by guessing and I create the story about her as I look. It doesn't all come together all at once. It takes a little time, but sometimes it is worth the wait.
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Sunday, June 24, 2007

Plan A: Round up the “usual” suspects

Plan B: Anything that goes “boom”

Plan C: Plan B, but harder

Plan D: More wimpy ideas from neocons

Plan E: Renegotiated compensation packages

Plan F: Larger corporation contributions

Plan G: See Plan A

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Friday, June 22, 2007

"Where are you? Can you hear me?"
"I'm right in back of you, dude!"
"Right in back, where?"
"Dude! Turn around. I'm the guy in the yellow shirt"
"Oh. Yeah. What's up?"
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Tuesday, June 19, 2007

There are times when it all is so clear, so obvious, so in-your-face, that the plain facts can't be denied and have to be dealt with; where "the real" trumps fantasy and there is clearly something that needs addressing and you find yourself maybe a little short of breath, a little frightened, a little unprepared. You draw in a breath and let it out. The palms of your hands become sweaty and the pulse quickens and you feel many things all at the same time, but it is fear that is the strongest note; fear for what comes next.
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Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Monday, June 11, 2007

The train station at Bridgeport, Connecticut many years ago had luggage trolleys that had wooden wheels.
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Friday, June 08, 2007

If you only had 24 hours left to live and you knew it, what would you want for your last meals? Would it be spicey, or bland? What would you drink? How would you plan your last day and what would be the activities at the top of your "to do" list? Who would you want to see and would you ask them for forgiveness? Who would be the last person to give you a smile?
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Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Monday, June 04, 2007

Overheard on the street:
He said: "Ohmygod, I don't even care anymore about how she got in. I just want my money back"
She said: (laughing) ..and then the car hit the lady with the baby and they both flew up in the air."
She said: "Listen, can I call you back. I don't have time to talk now."
He said: "Gay men are blind to any man over 50. This is a well know fact."
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Friday, June 01, 2007

It was 1970 and Janis had just O.D.ed. The rock 'n' roll heroes were going fast. Jimi: dead; Jim: dead; now Janis. It was hard to believe that it could happen so fast and that they could've been so stupid as to die like they did. It didn't make a lot of sense. People talked about how "bright" their "flame" was and that was an excuse for how they could implode and choke to death on their own vomit, or to be mistaken on how much of what substance had gotten them too high to remember what could be toxic in their own, particular, "stone soup". For myself, I felt let down, disappointed, and sad. Our heroes don’t so much now commit unintentional suicide. I think we got a little smarter since 1970. Now, our heroes are shipped off to another place to die, suddenly and without much thought, in another land, by another hand.

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