Ketchup

It's been months since I've delved into the narcissistic realm of blogging. Not that I haven't been masturbating to my own greatness- I just haven't posted my simperings into pretty little columns for the world to enjoy. Here's some of what you've been missing.

A short piece of writing inspired by Paul Gorka's painting Poison Ivy:
the roots peek out from their earthly abode, wrinkled with change, squinting through tufts of new grass. for a long time he stands and stares toward them, thinking of nothing in particular, then continues on his way. there was once a swing at the end of this path, and he's curious to see if it's stood the test of time, as his old house had not. the tall portly stroller is a man of thirty: friendless, penniless, but not completely hopeless. he's come back to aberdeen to find the sense of wonder that for him the world has lost. he years ago resigned himself to feeling nothing, and accepting it, with neither pleasure nor distaste- but today he felt that pang, that guilt at his overwhelming apathy, and had driven the six hours to his boyhood town in washington to see if it couldn't be quieted with some good ol' nostalgia. rounding a slippery, and decidedly more narrow than he recalled, bend in the path, it presents itself. its trunk wide and powerful, marked with the deep carvings of former lovers- of people and of drugs- the tree rises majestic into the white spring sky, leafless but no less virile for it. and from a thicker branch, extending over the near-dry creek, hangs the shredded, useless chunk of rope which was a swing. he marvels at his youthful bravery. the rope, had it hung for feet, would still swing its rider out above a sheer drop. he guesses 30 feet or more to even a rushing flow. edging closer, his loafered toes grip the ledge. suddenly he feels the soil break away beneath his unsteady feet, hears it tumble drily down the sharp embankment, and instinctively jumps back. he clutches his heart, trying to calm its wild beating, and hears a noise behind him. as he spins the sound simply cuts out, eerily, like a track being paused. he figures it's a squirrel but can't help notice the hairs standing at the nape of his neck, the sense of deja vu. shaking off the shivers running down his spine he returns his gaze to the tree. its appearance has taken on a watery quality. the gnarled bark swirls and shifts in the low breeze. he rubs his eyes, knowing all the while how silly he must look, how cliche to rub ones eyes, yet he can think of no other action. he rubs them until they hurt, but the tree is still swimming there, wet and diaphanous. without warning it begins to rain- fat, heavy drops which roll into his eyes- but still he can only stare, spellbound by the ghostly sight. even when the noise resumes, the thrashing and crunching at his back becoming deafening, he's oblivious to all but it. he inches toward it, lowering his head and shielding his eyes, his other arm outstretched to test its reality, completely absorbed by need. a clap of thunder booms and echoes, seeming to shake the ground with its magnitude. his head snaps up, in time to see the lightning but not the figure charging at him. the man never saw what hit him as he flew headlong into the creek bed. he had no time to scream or consider doing so. it was after the fall, lying haphazard on his broken neck that he looked up. it was as the last shots of life fired through his neurons that he met the familiar eyes of his assailant, grinning with glee, hands on adolescent hips.

Ponderings on politics
Libertarianism is a political philosophy maintaining that every person is the absolute owner of his or her own life and should be free to do whatever she or he wishes with his person or property, as long as she or he respects the liberty of others (tenets of non-aggression and self-ownership).

Social Anarchism- Collectivist A. (organized as anarcho-syndicalist; anti-authoritarian; collectivist anarchism stresses collective ownership of productive, subsistence and distributory property) and Anarcho-Communism ("to each according to his need"; communist anarchism negates the concept of ownership in favor of usage) and Libertarian socialism: oppose all forms of illegitimate authority; objects should be held communally and controlled democratically; the only exception being personal possessions
positive liberty and believe that individuals are entitled to have their needs fulfilled by society
vs.
Individualist Anarchism- emphasizes negative liberty, in opposing state or social control over the individual; a market economy where this property may be bought and sold
-a group of individualistic philosophies: ex: anarcho-capitalism-advocates the provision of law enforcement, courts, and national defence by competitors in a free market rather than by a state;

(As a side-note, libertarian capitalists reject the belief that capitalism needs coercion to survive just as fervently as libertarian socialists reject the belief that socialism needs coercion to survive.)
...
"Socialism and Communism both demand a degree of joint effort and administration which would beget more regulation than is wholly consistent with ideal Anarchism; Individualism and Mutualism, resting upon property, involve a development of the private policeman not at all compatible with my notion of freedom."-Voltairine de Cleyre

I defend my political affiliation with a personal philosophy emphasizing
deontological ethics (a theory holding that decisions should be made solely or primarily by considering one's duties and the rights of others) rather than consequentialism, (a philosophy infamous for its claim that the ends justify the means).
I vote for the party whose positions most closely match that of my own. I don't vote for issues or pretty faces or money. Badnarik's an objectivist and consequentialist; I am not. But the two major party choices opposed fundamental Libertarian tenets (and are two sides on the same coin, honestly). Small steps to big change. Soccer moms aren't going to bomb credit card companies. Let's get organized and get someone else's foot in the door. We are not dead.

Following the Wikitrail
sadism and masochism
(from) Leopold Ritter von Sacher-Masoch,
who wrote Venus in Furs (1870)
Book cover for "Venus in Furs" showing the image from Gustav Klimt’s 1901 painting Judith I

"Venus in Furs" is a song by The Velvet Underground
covered by DeVotchKa on the EP Curse Your Little Heart in 2006, which features songs from the movie Little Miss Sunshine
Dwayne (Paul Dano), Sheryl's son, is an angst-ridden, avowedly mute, Nietzsche-reading teenager
Nietzsche wrote Human, All Too Human, which criticizes social darwinism:
Wherever progress is to ensue, deviating natures are of greatest importance. Every progress of the whole must be preceded by a partial weakening. The strongest natures retain the type, the weaker ones help to advance it.

Book of Judith is a deuterocanonical book in which a daring and beautiful woman succeeds in decapitating the invading general
A Perfect Circle song "Judith" from 2000's Mer de Noms was about Maynard James Keenan's mother. The length of time between the paralysis and her death was 27 years, or approximately 10,000 days. She took this as a test from God and held resilient in her faith that God would reward her for her efforts.
Keenan is featured in several segments of Mr. Show most notably in the Ronnie Dobbs sketch in the first season. In one scene he is seen being arrested with Ronnie Dobbs, then later on in that sketch he is featured wearing a wig as the lead singer of the - then - fictitious band "Puscifer"
Mr. Show was a sketch comedy series featuring former Saturday Night Live writer/comedy actor Bob Odenkirk, who played Steven(Matthew Broderick)'s brother in The Cable Guy, who exhibited typical paranoid-schizoid characteristics
Schizoid personality disorder is characterized by a lack of interest in social relationships, a tendency towards a solitary lifestyle, and emotional coldness
not to be confused with schizophrenia (derived from the Greek words σχίζειν (split) and φρήν (mind)), but which actually refers to a mental disorder characterized by impairments in the perception or expression of reality and by significant social or occupational dysfunction. the first known misuse of this word schizophrenia to mean 'split personality' (in the Jekyll and Hyde sense) was in an article by the poet T. S. Eliot in 1933
Eliot wrote 'The Hollow Men', which reflects upon Eliot’s skepticism about the men of his time, the posterity, and society as a whole (he is devastated by the depravity of Europe after World War I), and is an all-around delicious poem:
The Hollow Men (1925)
I
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.
II
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.
Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer --
Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom
III
This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.
Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.
IV
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river
Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.
V
Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

Religion and Government
theocracy watch: dominionism
the eagle forum vs. league of conservation voters vs. christian coalition
e.f. founder phyllis schlafly:
http://www.eagleforum.org/misc/bio.html
nephew, tom schlafly, co-founder of stl brewery:
http://www.bookrags.com/wiki/Saint_Louis_Brewery
polarized senate and society, ("myth" of-by texas gop-)separation of church and state, secular vs. religious constitution; tolerance or one truth
texas gop abolish Many govt agencies- epa, worker, public safety, us dept. of education, housing and urban devo, health & human services, irs & all tax (except sales)
moral majority and jerry falwell
tax cuts (top 1%) and war, record deficits
denny hastert (speaker of the house): abolish the irs, call for flat tax & nat'l sales tax
biblical law: ephesians 22-23, wives submit to husband as lord
sen. santorum: tx anti-sodomy laws, uncont'l by sup ct.: right to bigamy, polygamy, adultery, etc.
clinton's impeachment about enforcing bib law
alabama 10 comm monument moved, but not with taxpayer $ bc hostettler amdmt. (7/23/'03) also, host's "marriage protection act"- cts blocked from hearing any cases involving gay marriage (people denied access to cts)
pbs doc "The Jesus Factor"
weyrich, coined term "moral majority" (which became christ. coal. in '89)
pat robertson and passing out "voter guides" in churches in early '90s (40mill by '94)(70 mill in 2004, for gw)
the council for nat'l policy & rev. tim lahey: christian reconstructionism & rushtoony, tom delay, ralph reed...
voter apathy, media blitz helps the dominionists
au.org
pfaw.org
publiceye.org
interfaithalliance.org
theocracywatch.org
http://www.pbs.org/newshour/extra/teachers/lessonplans/general/democracy.html

a short story about someone who has something someone esle wants:
it had been 3 years since jesse moved to lasvegas from toledo. just
3 short years ago he'd been waking on the ratty basement sofa to
tommy's girlfriend bitching, pinning on a nametag to go sell condoms
and 40s at the convenience store on 87th. in restrospect, he'd had it
made then. jesse looked up at the sky. clouds were creeping in from
the west. maybe it would finally rain. god damn it was getting hot.
he rolled up his holey sleeve and shuffled quickly down the avenue.
today's the day things change, he thought. no matter how bad things
got, he never lost hope. that was the problem with gambling.
pessimists gave up. optimists held out for the payoff. thunder
cracked and he hurried his pace. he had to get to the pawn shop and
back to his tent before the rain hit. no way his meager food supply
would be palatable after a storm. up ahead he could see the shop
owner, leaning against the door frame, slowly pulling on a black &
mild. the guy'd had an attitude since he tried to buy back that
camera. but he knew the tvs in the window were tuned to the local
news. and he knew that any minute the sports segment would be on, and
that the bet he'd placed the night before depended on the pistons'
loss. the remainder of jesse's money was on the line. he had to see
the score. he could almost feel the paper in his hand. he thought of
changing the money to singles, counting each bill slowly, silently,
ben franklin smiling with each flip, happy with the prospect of
jesse's future. but by now the owner'd spotted him. and the chances
of catching the score looked pretty slim. he wasn't even a hundred
feet away and the guy was waving his arms around, cursing at jesse in
english through a long arabic tirade. but he wasn't about to turn
away that easily. if he could just hold his ground for a minute, he
could know. he stopped in front of the glass, ducked to peek under
the stickers and ads scribbled on the window. the cocky newscaster
stared back. shopguy's screaming pierced jesse's eardrums but he was
focused, bent with hands in pockets, whole existence centered on
unheard syllables. within seconds he was crashing face-first into the
pavement. the motherfucker pushed him. from his knees he felt a foot
kick him in the ass. someone down the street was laughing. jesse
scrambled to his feet and jogged away, not wanting to deal with the
cops the dick would call if he stayed another minute. by now his
optimism was overshadowed by anger and self-pity. here a guy
literally didn't have a pot to piss in and was forbidden to Look in a
fucking window. he cursed himself for not saving a $1 to buy the
sunday paper with. he could be checking the score comfortably from a
park bench. ...but then again, that dollar would soon be quadrupled.
the thought cheered him, steered him back to the task at hand. well,
he'd just have to find a paper in the trash. surely some yahoo
waiting for a bus would throw away a paper today. it was inevitable.
at the stop on fremont and charleston he spotted his mark. a guy in a
pinstripe suit held an open paper. he stopped to look at his watch,
glance up the street. jesse couldn't take the chance he'd take it on
board. he trotted up to the man and began to ask for the sports
section. before he could utter two words the paper was folded away
and a pepper sprayer was aimed at jesse's face. fear glistened in the
man's eyes. jesse held up his hands in protest, to show he was
defenseless, and started again his plea--which was cut short by the
hiss of the sprayer. jesse roared like a bear, flew at the man and
tackled him to the ground. he was so angered by his loss of dignity
he forgot all about the paper. forgot all about the stupid bet. he
wanted to kill this smug motherfucker. in a blur he felt the knife
slip from his pocket and enter the man's abdomen. he heard him
screaming, then begging, then gasping. but he felt nothing, saw
nothing. it wasn't until he heard the sirens that he came to his
senses.