Sunday, November 27, 2011

The new gilded age

The new gilded age

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

My First Ornamental Gardening Lesson

Way back when I was young, we lived in a very multicultural neighborhood where my parents managed and maintained an apartment building that made the UN look tame. At the end of the block was a single family home where we knew a Japanese woman lived. To say her yard was immaculate and her flowers perfect would be an understatement.

Every evening, as was the custom back then, after dinner, my mother and I took a walk. My father was seldom home from work, yet. We would admire the yard and one evening, much to our total surprise, the lady was out working in the yard. My mother absolutely could not resist asking how she created such a perfect yard.

You must remember that foreign women marrying GI Joes was not a popular thing and they were more often than not ostracized. This was no real exception and it turned out she did not speak English very well so she ran in the house to get her husband to make certain of what we wanted. My poor mother was mortified to cause so much trouble. She was even more mortified when the lady wheeled her husband out and it was apparent he had no legs. This woman that everyone in the neighborhood had shunned for years had married a combat veteran she met in the hospital where she was treated for the after effects of Hiroshima after the end of the war. No one had ever bothered to find this out but my mother was just plain nosey. She was his constant caretaker. She even drove the car, something most women could not do at that time.

Anyway, when her husband translated the question, she held up a tiny pair of gardening shears, the first bonsai shears I had ever seen. The look on my mother's face was a combination of abject horror and sheer amazement.

I was not so easily convinced anyone was crazy enough to take care of an entire yard with a tiny pair of shears, so I now detoured around the block on the way to school just to observe. I had a bike at this point and was mobile. I made two shocking discoveries. The first was that she did in fact use these tiny shears to trim all the plants, every darned day except in pouring rain. She was even out there in the mist. The last thing I noted was the grass didn't seem to grow. I have no idea what variety it is, but it is very fine, grows in a mat and only requires mowing less than once a month and she used a manual push mower. I dutifully reported back to mother that all was exactly as stated.

I learned a very important lesson. Gardening requires constant work and due diligence. You have to love what you are creating because it is a constantly changing masterpiece of Mother Nature's work. If you love something, it is not work. I also learned to love green tea.

How Fast will the Christmas War Start This Year?

The answer to that question is one week before Thanksgiving the wailing has already begun about saying happy holidays. Personally I don't care what you say because the answer is probably going to be FY and it doesn't have an "I" after it.

I actually used to enjoy the holidays even with the overwhelming Christian theme of which I am not and have never been a member. Then came the immediately animosity because merchants, mainly to save money and knowing they were serving a multinational community, went to Holiday Sales. What is with you people? Aren't you happy with multiple wars and have to start one at home? What happened to peace on earth and goodwill toward men? What happened to civil? What happened to tolerance?

I grew up in a multicultural community with an Atheist father. Yup, you read that right. We were poor and I mean really poor. We managed an apartment building for a Jewish gentleman who was willing to tell the FBI where they could go in defense of us, as long as we did our job and it was no bed of roses. My father worked at whatever he could find for about 2 weeks until the FBI showed up and scared his employer into firing him. At night he made repairs to the two story building of 16 apartments. All day my mother worked keeping the halls clean and all weekend we all worked doing the landscaping. I trimmed hedges. My parents mowed and weeded. In our spare time, we mediated the apartment dweller skirmishes and tried to maintain 100% occupancy. At one point may father said being a mercenary was easier work.
Then came the first, close your eyes, Holiday Season. One third of the tenants were Jewish survivors of the concentrations camps; German, Russian, Polish, Ukrainian, Czechoslovakian and Lithuanian. Two families had survived Auschwitz, so don't tell me the Holocaust never happened. Then we had the Cubans,  a Muslim family across the street with a Hindi family down the block and the bane of our peaceful existence, a Fundamentalist antisemitic Christian family we crossed the street to avoid their little demon boys. My mother never adjusted to curry on fish. I never adjusted to the prejudice. I had to run home to ask my mother if I was a gentile so I could cut across their yard on the way home from school. Half way home I decided I would just circle the stupid block as I didn't like them anyway. I have never liked prejudice. They simply couldn't figure out why I wouldn't play with them. That was when I started denying I spoke English. Being bilingual has its advantages.

The first hurdle arrived when the Cuban contingency wanted to dig a pit and roast a whole pig. You have no idea how conflicted my father was as he really wanted a piece of that pig but he knew the Muslim family and Jewish families did not eat pork, so he said no digging pits on the property. They could roast the pig elsewhere and bring over, but please don't bring it with the head attached. My mother screamed in a restaurant when a fish with head attached was served. He also figured a pig in sanitary pieces was less offensive.

That brought a complaint about the Polish lady's once a month eggplant. Let me tell you, I have no idea what she did to that poor eggplant, but you would stick your head in a septice tank rather than smell it. You could hear windows slamming shut for a block.

That was when my father brought up the man's wife's Friday fish. I don't know what she did to those poor things either, but the septic tank was looking good, and the fact that no one complained because they knew it was part of their culture to eat fish on Friday. Would she like some new recipes?

I will never forget the look on that man's face at it had never occured to him the fish (I use that description really loosely) smell was as sickening as the eggplant.

Once over that hurdle, my father suggested we all try to find something to eat that everyone liked and we would put a big table in the yard and everyone would eat together. Everyone could contribute a side dish and one person would cook all meat. We decided a turkey was the least offensive meat even though a few of the Cubans had no idea what one was. Oddly, I actually had a turkey for a pet in Cuba!

Unfortunately, the turkey fell to us and our employer even chipped in with the price as he intended to have some of it with us. My father  and our employer came home carrying a 48 pound turkey between them. It took both of them to wrestle the thing into the kitchen. I still think it was a dinosaur. I don't even know where you get one that big today. My mother swore she was stuffing a bottomless pit after the third bowl went into it. Yes, we actually stuffed the bird and lived.

This was the olden days, my friends, when you only had a oven. It barely made it into the oven. There were no roasting bags so you had to baste it every 30 minutes after removing the foil. She started cooking it around 2 AM and by midmorning, it was so hot in the apartment (we were in Miami) that we were drawing lots to see who would venture in and baste the turkey. I still think it was rigged because I kept getting the short straw. Fortunately, ovens were made to handle weight and the bird slid out easily on the rack because I only weighed 80 pounds. Death by being crushed by turkey was not how I want to go.

We all managed to have a great afternoon and evening. I learned to Jewish dance steps but the Muslims insisted only the men should dance and it turned out to be the same steps as the Greek dances I had learned while living with a Greek family. Everyone learned we were not as different as we seemed on the surface. We all had suffered. We all had losses. We all worked our tails off to survive. We all just wanted a peaceful and happy holiday without stress, enjoying our friends and family.

And guess what???? No one really cared what you called the holiday, greeted the next guy with as long as it wasn't your middle finger or how they decorated their apartment. It was an adventure to go see all the different decorations and learn about the different cultures and no one suffered a stroke seeing a strange religious symbol. I did try to join the Jewish faith as those kids were making out like bandits on the gift wagon....and the days off from school. Unfortunately, we poor little pagans always wind up towing the line and in adult life, I worked both Hanukka and Christmas so my friends could have time off with their families and they worked the Solstice for me. None of us ever tried to assassinate the other. We just traded shifts. No one suffered a crisis of faith if Jiggle Bells was played with Silent Night, though by the 20th in a department store, any caroler was subject to being beaten to death no matter what they were singing. Trust me, Rock Around the Clock would do it.

We would have rather our tax dollars were refunded rather put into government decorations. We could all use the money. All we got in school was construction paper, sissors and paste and we used our imagination to create whatever decoration we wanted. Oddly, I always won best tree, smirk. It's a pagan symbol of the holidays. Some of those decorations were strange blobs but no one said anything about the lack of talent. You greeted everyone on the street with what ever greeting suited you. People smiled. There was no black Friday sales with people camped out and crushing each other when the door openned. There were some holiday reductions but we kids knew we weren't getting the most popular toy, just the most affordable and hopefully not the dreaded underwear.

So if you want to put Christ in Christmas, put it in your Christmas and leave my Yule alone. Excuse the flowers on the Buddha but I doubt you'll go blind from seeing it and I just like lighting candles, it has nothing to do with faith. Expect a Happy Yule from me or the middle finger. This whole thing has given me indigestion before Thanksgiving because I don't tolerate stupid well.

Friday, November 18, 2011

The Hour of the Cat

Many are familiar with the old Russian saying of the hour of the wolf. It is the time between 3 and 4 in the morning when you aren’t going to get drunk enough or sleepy enough to slip into the arms of Morphous and the wolf is baying in your mind about all your troubles. It would make a good Blues song. My troubles is baying at the door and they ain’t going nowhere. I ain’t got nowhere to hide ‘cause the bottle is too small and my eyes is wide open.


Ah, if only it were that simple. The hour of the cat is quite different. It sneaks in at any time on soft little kitty feet, curling up in the back of your mind and digging its switchblade claws into your tired brain. I suffer from it a lot now-a-days. It occupies my mind like protesters on Wall Street but a lot louder and more violent. I think it has moved in.



When I am an old lady I shall wear a red hat…. Screw that. I’ll wear a purple hat and a red dress because my generation never did conform well. I wear whatever I find comfortable and I should be writing about fluffy bunnies. Fluffy bunnies and reality shows sell well. They are both fictions. I am real. That is the problem.

They’ll go away when they get tired of their little protest said the patronizing politician at the beginning of the women’s right movement. He should have known anyone that goes through 9 months of Hell to spend 18 hours in excruciating pain is not going anywhere when the baby gets a little cranky. We didn’t leave and we got the vote and we got the rights to govern our bodies and he never forgave us. Make no mistake, he hates us for it but bunnies are so cute with their little wiggly noses. They sell soft toilet tissue.

I have a dream, one man said and through pain and death, it was partially realized. Like those fluffy bunnies, it was but a dream of a world that never existed. It was a fantasy of the American Dream, a car in every garage and a chicken in every pot until the car wouldn’t fit in the garage because we had too much stuff and rented a warehouse space for all the stuff so we could get more and more until we choked on it and lost it all. He who dies with the most toys is still very dead.

Hell no, we won’t go, they shouted by the thousands. As my young friend put it so succinctly; I can die here or I can die in ‘Nam. I choose to die on my own soil. Fluffy bunnies are so soft and cuddly until they go to Kent State and die in the dirt, shot while singing songs of peace and love. The American Dream died there. It bled red, white and blue all over the mud, but everyone was color blind. They only saw red. It doesn’t matter where you die, you are still dead. Dead bunnies don’t sell well, I have learned. Peace signs, bell bottoms and incense are all the rage. They must be godless. They don’t look like us. Neither do fluffy bunnies, my child, said the cat.

They have no leader. They have no plan. They have no organization. They have no jobs. They will go away. Ah, you tired old men have missed the point, again. They have nowhere to go. They have no future. They know it. You know it. The dream is dead and when the dream dies, the nightmare takes over. Here, kitty, kitty….

But fluffy bunnies are what I should be writing about. Tell me my future, but not the truth. Tell me of lovers and money and fame like those people on reality TV. Don’t tell me I am losing my job and then my home and then my family because I am doing everything right and all those others in the unemployment and welfare lines must have done something wrong. Tell me sweet little fluffy bunny lies. Unfortunately I am a lousy liar. The cat seems to have had kittens.

My generation was raised on the myth that you worked hard, lived with integrity and retired to that little house with the picket fence and yelled at the kids to stay off your lawn because that lawn was your only job. Then we saw our parents die of cancer from the cigarettes doctors prescribed for nerves that absolutely weren’t addictive, in a poverty created by medical costs that were in the stratosphere and because we got a good education, we actually knew where that was. But, if we worked hard, we could be the next Bill Gates. Unfortunately the Highlander was right. There can only be one. We found our job security was myth and our 401K barely covered a couple years of retirement while old rich men tried to convince us we should wait for the social security we spent every year of our working lives paying into until we were 70. Unfortunately, most men don’t live more than 72 years but hey, the rich old men were making a profit and that is the American Way. We are just lazy, fluffy bunnies in a reality show and starting look like pretty dumb bunnies.

The cat that claws its way to my consciousness purrs in tones of protest. You start a company and work 18 hours a day and then you retire and leave it to your kids or sell it and retire to a nice beach front home awaiting the next hurricane called the housing market bubble. No wait a minute, that was a hundred or two hundred years ago. My grandfather’s father sold that jewelry store to put his sons through medical college and buy my grandfather a general store. He sold the store and divided property up among 8 children who divided it up among even more and all I got was my grandmother’s hair pin. It was nice hair pin. They were bigger back then and much more decorative just like those fluffy bunnies that sell so well.

Some guy they call the 1%’er’s daddy had a granddaddy bought all that property and the store and built track houses and groceries. Then he bought banks because they require no work and produce no ugly goods but just move money around at a good profit. The family business died before I was born and became a multinational corporation while I was learning to walk. Little did I know it was a living, breathing entity with rights that would fight for it survival by every means possible. There never was an American Dream. It was a fluffy bunny we all believed in hopping down the bunny trail.

I was in my early 30’s when someone threw two bunnies out with their cage in the vacant lot. I saw them because I see everything. I really do. Just ask my friends. They stayed by their cage and by some miracle weren’t eaten by wild dogs. I saw them and picked them up and took them home. Fluffy bunnies are so very soft. They have cute little wiggly noses. They also have teeth and can eat a T-shirt off your shoulder before you know it is dropping and they kick like the dickens. Fluffy bunnies aren’t what they seem, my friends. They are a myth. The cat in my brain isn’t.

It was in the 5th grade that my tests became true and false and multiple choice. Before that, you actually had to write your answers in complete sentences and whole words. I didn’t adapt well. I could always see the truth in the false answer and the myth in the true answer and well, the multiple choices all had their merits, too. But there can only be one. There can only be one truth, one god and one color. I found that hard to believe and lucky for me I learned to memorize and spew forth the crap they tried insert in my mind. I had plenty of storage space. I just filed it. I never realized the others were swallowing it whole, inserting into to every cell of their being as the TRUTH. Fluffy bunnies only come in white, you know. The others aren’t as fluffy just as bunny. I never realized the ones that came after me would have their minds washed, folded and fluffed dry into true or false and a through d because those are the ONLY way. Anything else is failure. Anything else is dangerous. Anything else will steal your security and prevent you getting more stuff even if you are still dead.

And then they became spiritual beings having a human experience, all by themselves in a 500.00 weekend seminar with a hundred other bodies because you can’t trust the guy in the seat next to you not to take your spirituality or was it stuff? We are connected to our money because surely I am not connected to that bum in alley who fought for my freedom and got no medical care when he came home. If you don’t believe me, just ask the 1%. The rest of us are lazy bums who are not as smart as them, as connected as them, as good as them and we should just die because we can’t afford insurance and medical care for the poison related diseases from their factories. We aren’t profitable.

The cat is getting ready for bed and whispers, never mess with someone who has nothing to lose and knows it. They have nothing to lose…..Good night kitties. I have fluffy bunnies to write about and sell.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Morgellons Disease

I bet, like me, the last you heard this disease was the venue of nutty UFO abductees.

Well, you had better keep reading, particularly if you subscribe to the apple a day theory of medicine.

It was discovered in 2001 and its sufferers were immediately classified as nut cases. The symptoms are pretty nasty. You feel like you are being bitten or stung by insects, things are crawling under your skin, arthritis sets in, memory loss, vision problems, itching and finally, fibers begin to emerge from your skin that are MULTICOLORED! It often occurs after you contract Lyme disease.

When these fibers were analysed from samples taken world wide, they were found to be the same thing and primarily, or at least mostly, cellulose.

Hence, it has moved from the realm of you are crazy to you really have something and even though the CDC has been studying it since 2007, they don't seem to have a clue.

Well, let me give you some clues.

Lyme disease actually alters your genetic structure. Yes, you read that right. It attaches to your lovely and precious DNA where it begins to create its own network through out your body and the symptoms are not pleasant. That is why it is not curable. It literally becomes part of you. Lyme disease has been found in so called cave men! It is carried mainly by deer ticks, deer being a big prey animal for early man. Hunt deer and you most certainly get ticks. Get ticks and you get Lyme disease and your very DNA altered. What a nice and predictable carrier for genetic modification.

It gets worse as it usually does.

Although there is a contingency that thinks these fibers are some form of nanotechnology, the probability is that it really is a genetically engineered material being produced by a genetically engineered creature. That creature from all deductions is Agrobacterium.

Are you getting suspicious yet?

This little critter is real handy folks. It has the ability to transfer DNA between itself and plants and is used extensively in genetically engineering plants. Now, supposedly the little critter is safe in the lab and we have nothing to worry about. It stops working once it does the initial transfer.

Unfortunately, the prime directive of any species is to survive and they just don't, unlike humans, like dead end jobs.

Thus, I wonder about this little critter whose job was to toughen up tomato skins by transferring fish scales' genes to tomatoes. Or how about transferring pig, the animal most physically like us in all ways, genes to apple skins to toughen them up for shipment. Did it survive to make another transfer and that is why the fibers are being created? Are they toughening up our skin?

Does it affect Lyme disease sufferers most because their DNA is already breached making it easier to attack? Was Lyme disease the original genetic modifier of primitive humans? I guarantee, we will never know. There is way too much money involved in genetically modifying plants and patents on them.

However, if you want more information you can go to this link:
www.morgellons.org/newsletters

Is Occupy Over?

Some are saying the whole movement had dissolved into a pointless sit in that was just incoveniencing everyone.

Define everyone.

That's the problem with those sweeping statements. They have no basis in reality. I am a member of everyone and I have not been inconvenienced in the least.

Somehow, I think the writers missed the point. The point was general dissension. The point was dissatisfaction with every aspect of the current political, social and financial system. The point was, we are the 99% and we are sick of you, so you can sit in your foreign luxury car and burn your foreign oil you speculate on and make us pay through nose for even when riding "public" or it should be called punitive transportation. The point was we KNOW any business that can afford the rent around Wall Street is no small business no matter what closet they are operating out of or what mom and pop store they are pretending to be for the 1%.

However, my dear Tea Party Republican 1% worshipping friends, once up on a time I was in the very real business of creating revolutions and thus, I am laughing. I am rolling on the floor. I never managed to see one pulled off as quickly and efficiently as you just did and baby, I know people who were very, very good. The first rule is get enough people hurt by the militia to enrage the masses with pictures of blood and suffering. If you can get a local hero in the hospital, it is gold. You not only managed all of that in one swoop but moved the anger from being directed at the police directly to the politicians in charge of them. That normally takes a few weeks as they have good spin doctors. Congratulations. You beat every record I know. I bow to you. Ooops..you're on the other side? My goodness, how very incompetent of you unless you intended to sacrifice all these 2%'ers all along. Can't have the nouveau riche and Riff Raff in the club, you know, old man. Smile and a wink.

Unfortunately, while everyone was sitting in tents and under tarps, you, the establishment and its lap dog, the press, forced these occupiers to organize and develop a web of communications, with very little technology often depending on nothing but the human next to them. They can simply move to occupy without tents in the same locations now moving and living in and from a central location. You have made them mobile. It's harder to hit or discredit a moving target. You created a whole new breed of videographer and of media stars and the spotlight is addictive. You even created leaders in such volume that they can independently take over all your little neighborhoods. Good Goddess, do you realise neighbors may even talk to each other...IN...NEW...YORK!!!

Jolly good job Old Man. Unfortunately for you, you are obsolete. The younger generation is 10 steps ahead of you. In technology, they are so far ahead of you, you are looking at your own ass. They are faster than us old foggies. They are used to multiplexing, processing huge amounts of information and seeing and anticipating trends. They learned that from the violent video games you made for them to keep them locked indoors and focused on a screen. The only generation you really managed to hypnotize with sex and violence was the one after mine and they happily bred themselves into poverty producing the generation that was sitting in those parks. Hey, no jobs, no can buy video games. I guess you actually have a few things to learn about eugenics.

Here's a freebie from someone whose family has been doing it for years. You can line breed for a magic number of generations and then you had better hybridize or you will get a whole host of traits you don't want. Don't believe me? Then why is autism a disease of the upper classes and very few of the lower class suffer with it? Why does it have a nice combo of obsessive compulsive behaviour and ego centrism, both traits you cultured to get the successful business executive that would work themselves into the grave for you while not caring who they killed on the way up the ladder?

When you tamper with the Goddess' design, she tends to get even. Seems it is time for those chickens to come home to roost and there is nothing you can do about it. You are a dying breed, in more than way.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Entitlements

No, this isn't a blog about social security or welfare. It's about the difference between how a liberal Democrat and a conservative Republican see the same world, at the same time, with the same problem.

I have a friend who lives in a cold climate. She has several cats she has rescued, spent every extra penny she has on and who now faces a delima. She was renting and the landlord allowed the house to go into foreclosure. It gets even better. The day she lost her job, she came home to find an eviction notice tacked to the door. She has no hope of doing anything but moving or being thrown out in the cold and I mean COLD. When she called me, she was trying to figure out how to live in her car with several cats. She had just paid her rent a few days earlier, which her landlord quickly pocketed knowing the eviction notice was on its way. Thus, she had no money for first, last and security even though she had located a place to move and she was pretty sure she wasn't seeing her last month and security deposit from this last rental. All she asked was for some suggestions on living in her car with cats. She is a Christian so magick is out of her realm.

Within a few minutes of talking to her, I received another call from someone in a similar situation but with a few variations. First off, she lost her house she was buying when the housing boom went bust and she still had a job. She tried to modify her loan and got foreclosed on and I am pretty sure the thing she didn't say was that she stopped making payments because if she hadn't, why would she be in foreclosure. You also might want to know that as soon as they get Obama out, everything will be just fine. Can I please take her cats because the no kill shelters have the audasity to tell her they are all full?
A few more minutes of whining revealed that the extent of her rescue of these animals has been finding every county and private program available to pay her vet bills and neuter and spay them. She had a whole list of people who have been helping her that for some reason aren't answering the phone any more.

Then I started thinking. Here are two people in the same boat except one of them put herself there. She is complaining because the charities she depends on are overloaded. She still has a job. She screwed herself up trying to modify her loan. How, you ask? It is simple. I had it explained to me. Upon hearing that loan modification would be made available to people underwater on their homes, but with the caveat that you had to be at least 3 months in arrears on your mortgage, she stopped making payments so she could get into yet another freebie program, like the neuter/spay for the pets of the elderly and poor, and free food and free vet help for the out of work or underemployed. Now, she is facing being out on the street because she didn't meet the requirements and her hand is still out. How dare those filthy liberal scumbags actually catch people trying to defraud the program by taking a vacation from house payments they signed contracts to pay under that wonderful president Bush.

Meanwhile, both my other friend and I, have been donating to these programs when possible, using every spare cent to neuter and spay our animals and strays, buying our own food and over using our credit cards on vet bills, because we can and someone else might need that service that can't.The thought of stopping payment on a mortgage to get refinancing and lowered payments never crossed either of our minds nor would it. We still had jobs and it might mean peanut butter with no jelly, but we paid our bills and we took care of our animals and any others that crossed our paths.

This reminds me of another flaming Republican who parks his fat ass in the handicapped motorized shopping cart while complaining about the liberals who made it necessary to have handicapped access laws and are costing business too much with their unnecessary laws. Why just look at all the money spent on those handicapped parking spaces that his car is sitting in.... But hey, don't expect him to buy his own little cart or get out of that one, which he is mainly using because he is FAT. I'm FAT and hang onto the shopping cart to make it through the store, slowly, because my asthma keeps me from moving too fast. I figure if I can do it, there is someone worse off than me that needs that motorized cart and it sure isn't him. I even found teenagers in these carts until BJ's finally cracked down. They were too tired to walk while their parents shopped.

That reminds me of making into the Costco door and grabbing a cart to hang onto before I passed out because my asthma was really bad that day, some days I barely have a problem, and hearing two old geezers talking about how nice it was to have that little sticker so they didn't have to park too far away from the door. I know they were flaming Republicans because I saw the Bush stickers on their Mercedes, as they diddy bopped into Costco in their little sports shirts and shorts with the reptile on it from their tennis match. Yes, the rackets were in the back window. They have private doctors to give them the nicely signed papers in exchange for drinks and round of golf at the club. It's amazing how much better medical care you get with a country club membership. They take care of their own. If I had to chase a ball around with a stick to get better care, someone would have to die.

So what was the outcome of this afternoon? I did a quick spell and my friend called the next day to say that out of the blue a job actually found her and she was going to be alright. She might have a couple of days in the car and the roasting pan really does make a nice kitty pan that fits in the car floor. I learned that little tidbit from the "Cat who..." novels. That little spell will be our secret. The other two are still whining.

Over and over I find that the people complaining about the huge drain social services are putting on the economy are the very ones using them and they see absolutely no problem with it. Most of the time, they flat don't even need the services they are using but hey, if it's free, they are going to elbow someone who really needs them out of line to get them. Then they start talking about "welfare queens". Well, I have a new title for them: Republican welfare leeches. They leech services from the people who need them. For every mythical welfare queen, there are a hundred or more of them.

Don't believe me? Next time there is a health fair offering free testing, stand in the parking lot and take a look at the expensive cars parking and the welfare leeches heading in for medical care they can well afford. Next time there is free food being handed out, you'll find them at the head of the line. Free sample in the local mart, watch yourself or they will break your rib elbowing you out of the way for free cracker.   Free legal help, they are first in line. Free anything, they are there, complaining about the filthy liberal scumbags that are going to raise taxes and bankrupted the country paying for programs like these. They seem to have forgotten a couple of wars financed on a Chinese  credit card by Bush. They seem to have forgotten the housing bubble burst on his watch. They seem to have forgotten, TARP was the last act of HIS presidency. And they have really, because apparently they can't remember anything over 1 hour old, totally forgotten it was Reagan who raised the debt ceiling, deregulated the banks and monopolies and started this happy little downward slide down the side of the mountain in a handbasket. After all, it's all Obama's fault and as soon as we put the people back in charge from 4 years ago, everything will be wonderful.

By-the-way, my parting shot was that she should take a trip over to local Tea Bag representatives office and get some help there. I wonder how fast her ass hit the pavement over there.....

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Weird Happening: The Watch part 2

The weirdness of the totally and instantly drained battery did not stop there I discovered two days later when I went to get the battery out and go buy a new one.

The watch straps are interchangeable, so they slide under the watch back through the metal loops you see on both sides on the watch..the white blotch is pointing to one loop and you can see the indentation on the watch band from being bent under the watch.

You know how hard it is to get the back of these watches off and they even make a special tool to do it. I do not have the tool. When I removed the watchband, the back of the watch FELL OFF! The band was the only thing that was holding it in place. The battery would not come out and I had to pry it out with a tiny screw driver made for repairing eye glasses.

I bought a new one and when I compared it to the old battery, it is just a bit smaller than the original but that could be because the original is a 377/376 and this one is a 377. BUT, it actually fits perfectly. When I went to put the back on, it wasn't playing. The back had expanded and I had to pry it back on with small pliers. It is as though the back and the battery have been exposed flash high heat and expanded minutely enough to pop the cover off and make the battery slightly larger, indicating the battery was the source of the heat.

The watch is working fine with its new battery so the electronics was not harmed. This is a Gossip Watch which isn't the most expensive watch in the pack.

Next time I listen to the Kevin Smith Show, the watch will be in another room. Those batteries are 5 bucks a piece!

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

My Heart is Heavy

Dear Readers,

Last night, listening to a show on the Illuminati and 12/21/12, many things that I have felt for some time were confirmed. It's always nice to know other people are getting the same message and you're not tuned to the wrong cosmic radio channel even though all the evidence is around you, supporting you.

The old order is in its death throes and a dying animal is always most dangerous. I am seeing this every day in government and corporate officials that are just plain mean to people for no reason what-so-ever. All you have to do is exist any more and the local government is on your ass. If you live in a housing development with "condo commanders" it seems they are trying to cause as much suffering as possible. Every day someone says the same thing: "We are all in the same boat. Times are hard. Why are the persecuting me?"

This is an energetic event. The earth is entering a new energetic phase of peace, love and sharing. This is the energy that is bombarding the planet. If you are one of those people who have never been open to this energy or have never experienced any psychic energy, this is a very frightening experience. People are seeing things that they are certain cannot exist. The Matrix, that is this world, is unstable, and you don't have to be psychic to experience it.

I was driving down 441 the other day and suddenly there was a minute shift. Everything went a little blurry and all I could think was that at 45 mph it was not a good time for the matrix to dissolve to machine language as I like my trees to look like trees so I don't hit them. Fortunately it resolved itself in milliseconds. I can only imagine how frightening that is for someone who doesn't even know this is a Matrix and the world is not set in concrete. Suddenly, you see people and creatures that aren't there, hear things that don't exist and are assaulted with strange smells. Things brush against you and there is nothing there. These are all things psychics are used to, but others aren't.

These 1% can't feel secure without at least 2 million dollars in liquid assets. That number is from a poll and little pip squeaks like Kadafi threaten to do away not only with their assets but the actual dollar itself and replace it with a gold standard. No wonder he had to die.....

Unfortunately, they control the money and, as I have said since the begining of this mess, the entire banking crisis was nothing more than a land grab. We find ourselves, personally, fighting this same thing on a personal level because the county can take your property away from you, with no warning, for infractions. They can literally fine you huge amounts and never bother to notify you it is happening until the day the auctioneer arrives at your front door and starts actioning your property off to a select group of people on an email list that no one seems to know how to get onto. YES, perfectly legal and they have beem doing it for years. Usually they target people who are elederly and don't speak English. One man was being finded 500.00 a day for improvements his neighbor made on their house without a permit and his home was due to be auctioned off! Conveniently, he couldn't read English. Inconviniently, his daughter could read English and wanted to know what they thought they were doing. The State Attorney was sitting there and asked them (Broward Building and Zoning) to repeat this twice and then told everyone in the room to get a lawyer right then. Yes, folks, you are just facing these things but they have been going on for years.

No one has the money to buy these properties but they go on taking them and foreclosing on them and throwing people out. One house in my neighborhood has been empty for over a year. How is that benefiting anyone????

ATT raises my bill 25.00 a month after spending millions to elect Tea Party congressmen that, today, their Tea Party sent out a letter telling them to block all jobs bills and all attempts to tax corporations. How am I supposed to pay that bill without a job? Can anyone find any actual logic in what is happening? I didn't think so. How can we buy their products without money because we sure don't have credit??? Why are they electing people to make certain we don't get a job, except to inflict the maximum amount of pain on the people who can least afford it? There are those who thrive off the energy of suffering and they are bloated and happy tonight. Are you?

As I said, the death throes of a dying breed are when that animal is the most dangerous. Things are going to get very, very bad and it no longer matters who you vote for because the mechanism is already in place to destroy you. If they are going to die, they are taking as many of us with them as they can.

What can we do? They cannot deal with one thing and one thing alone, deliberate resistance. Not passive resistance but deliberate resistance. Pick me up and I just return and sit back down again, today, tomorrow and until I die. Look at this way, in jail you get free meals and medical care. Enough people in world simply have to tip the balance and refuse to move. Deliberately and with forethought, you have to refuse. We are the majority. We may not have the money, but we have the mass. We can bring the entire planet to a standstill and what do we have to lose? NOTHING, because not many have anything left and they are trying take what the rest have. Trust me. YOU ARE NEXT.

As Patrick Henry said, "If we don't hang together we will most certainly hang separately."

They have frightened us into compliance with every assinine plan they have come up with for years. Protest and you'll get a felony conviction and you won't even be able to work at Walmart. What if we are all felons? Who will work at Walmart then?

Let me tell you how you got here, home in foreclosure, no credit and wondering where you are going to sleep. It was simple.

I went into Home Depot to buy some paint for my building. The clerk asked me if I lived in Coral Springs. I asked why because I just don't answer strange questions. Well, I couldn't buy that brand of paint if I did. Once again I asked why. Well, they don't make their paint in the "APPROVED COLORS". Not painting my house the approved color would instantly ruin the resale value of the whole town. How's that resale value working out for you? Then I noticed the approved color brand was 5.00 a gallon more and thought, "I guess someone in government got a good kickback." Every time this happened, you bought the "it's for your own good" line, handed over your credit card and were good little citizens. Your tree dies through no fault of your own and you have to spend almost a thousand dollars to replace it because you HAVE TO HAVE 3 TREES of X size and oh, put it on my credit card. Only a lawn service every week can get your lawn to look the way your neighbors demand, put it on the old credit card. Hate signs. Hey, it's not your problem if the business goes out of business because they can't attract customers except that they employ 10 people who now can't buy the products your company makes that pays your salary but hey, put it on the old credit card. WHAT do you mean 28% interest? No problem, you'll pay it down next week but in the mean time, I need a huge shrub because I have to have 5 in my yard or face a 500.00 a day fine, so put it on the credit card. How's that working out you? Lost my job because the business I put out of business with my sign ordinance's 10 employees couldn't buy the products my company was paying me to make...not to worry....there are plenty more jobs. What do you mean 2 million people showed up at McD's for 800,000 jobs??? Just put it on my...what do you mean....declined? Why are you cutting up my credit card?

They nickle and dimed you into the poor house except there are no poor houses so you are looking at the underside of a bridge as prime real estate. You don't have a credit card any more. You are discovering without an address, you probably aren't going to be voting not that it really mattered anyway. Those cold wet nights are taking a toll on the baby's health and insurance is a pipe dream and the Tea Party and the Republicans are chanting, "Let 'em die but make sure they get born so they can die in poverty."

You can't move in with Mom and Dad because they bought a Condo and children and guests are against the bylaws and anyway, if they don't come up with a few grand to plant new landscaping, they are going to be out on the street because the condo association can now repossess their dinky little apartment over assestments which pay their undisclosed salaries and their cousin's landscaping firm. It's too bad that no matter how much landscaping they throw his way, he is still losing his house because the other 100 customers are in foreclosure and not mowing their lawns but hey, there's no connection there.

And tonight I am tring to help someone find a home for her beloved cats and birds because the bank made a mistake and her lawyer put it simply, "Who do you think is going to take the fall for the bank's mistake, you or them?" They are never going to take the blame, the fall or the responsibility. You are the one who is taking the fall. They are not going to jail, or miss a meal, or be cold tonight. You are.

And that my friends is why my heart is heavy. BUT, I am not moving. I am not going way. My whole goal in life is to be the thorn in their ass. It always has been and always will be.

I have no fear of what is coming. Do you?

Blessed Be!

Things I wonder about.....

A few nights ago, I tuned into what should have been the perfect TV show for me. Please remember, I have neither satellite or cable. I settled into watch it and after about 15 minutes I was so aggravated I had to turn it off. It had nothing to do with the content. I just kept getting jittery and annoyed at nothing in particular.

Well, I have chewed on it for a few days and reached a conclusion I do not like. This feeling usually overtakes me when someone is saying something they absolutely do not believe or what I am seeing is not matching what I am hearing with it. Sometimes when the closed  captioning gets way off, I get this feeling and have to turn it off. It is like trying to pay attention to two things at once and getting less than half of either one.

That is when it hit me: subliminal perception. Either visually, which I am giving a quick no because it would be too easy to decode, or audibly, something was being broadcast under the program. The feeling is like you are in a room alone and keep thinking you hear someone whispering or someone watching you. Just for the record, it was not on a FOX station which is even more distressing.
I have no idea what is going on but, I have had the same "feeling" that has caused me to turn off favorite FOX shows, too. It is not on the DVD's, by the way. I can watch them.

I don't know what is going on, but I think the TV is staying off.

Weird Happenings

I was listening to the Kevin Smith Show last night and when the guest mentioned having a huge UFO following her around, my watch stopped. Yes, it stopped dead and now I am going out in search of a battery.
There was no slowing down like you usually get with a dying battery. It stopped dead flat.