I am use to squirrels stealing from my bird feeders. As a matter of fact, I have one feeder on a pole that I make easy access for the squirrels. Animals have to eat and they forage according to their nature. But, lately something has been pulling down my feeders and to prevent this I wired my hanging feeders to the trees with coat hangers. Last night some monster ripped down one of my feeders and carried it off. I have searched the surrounding woods and so far have not found it. I looked for tracks: a bear - big raccoon - do zombies eat sunflower seeds? Thinking about my last post: this is Stephen King's Maine... Maybe I don't want to know. the Ol'Buzzard
Before we were married my wife and I had sex every chance and every where. We christened mini-cars, vans, trucks, teepees, tents, motels, and even a church. Winter, spring, summer, fall – if we were indoors or outdoors it didn’t matter. If we were alone and the opportunity presented itself we were ready.
Now don’t get me wrong – we still have great sex; but standing knee deep in snow leaning against a tree – it’s not going to happen again.
Men’s and women’s libidos are different. As women pass child bearing age their interest in sex decreases. They still can have a great time in bed; but it is just not on their minds all the time.
Men on the other hand are ready 24/7 – regardless of age. Some men who have medical problems or are married to someone who is less than attractive may need pharmaceutical help – but on the whole men are ready. My wife is beautiful, sexy and feminine. She can walk into the house on a cold morning with her nipples showing beneath her blouse and I am ready to jump her bones on the living room floor – wishful thinking. Just waking up next to her in the mornings, or the sight of her in something skimpy gets my motor running. However, when I think about it from a woman’s point of view, I can understand their dilemma. Let’s face it: men aren’t pretty naked. I work out at the gym, and sometimes shower there. After seeing men’s hairy asses, pot bellies and hanging junk I can truthfully say that if I was a woman I would be a lesbian. Again, I can’t speak for women; but I think Wanda Sykes probably has it nailed. Check out the her Link:
Wands Sykes - The Dick is Dead We men don’t need a little blue pill to keep us erect for four hours. What we would like to see is a little purple pill with a warning: Women – If you take this pill and find you have an uncontrollable, wild desire to have vigorous, passionate sex for more that four hours at a time: see a doctor immediately.
My wife and I were watching LONGMIRE, the sheriff of Absaroka County, Wyoming; a character created by Craig Johnson and now a new series on A&E TV. During a commercial I commented that considering that there was at least one violent murder in this small rural county every week - why the hell would anyone want to live there? My wife laughed and pointed out that we live in Maine and in Jessica Fletcher’s Cabot Cove there were up to two or more murders every week day; and that Cabot Cove would have to be the murder capital of the world – per capita – according to Murder She Wrote. The only reason that there is still people left in Cabot Cove is that clam diggers and lobster fishermen must breed like rabbits. And of course she is right. And then there is Stephen King.
Thanks to Stephen King, if you traveled through Chamberlain, Maine near Lisbon you might run into Carrie White; who covered in pig’s blood could wreak unbelievable mayhem on you.
North of Brunswick, at Salem’s Lot, you could find yourself in the scariest vampire story ever written (If you sat through movie version I feel sorry for you.) Then near Bangor, in the town of Derry, you could happen on a clown that lives in the sewer - It is not a nice place to visit.
In Haven, a town of less than five thousand, supernatural deaths are as normal as a trip to Wal-Mart; and you might come down with the Tommyknockers’ disease that is caused by an alien space craft. Let’s not forget the alien invasion in the great north woods near Millinocket where your only protection will be a Dream Catcher. And, take this warning: whatever you do, don’t get into a red and white Plymouth Fury called Christine.
Even a woods vacation isn’t safe: for in the unincorporated township TR-90 you might find a Bag of Bones and the ghost of a blues singer haunting your cabin. In western Maine, near where I live, you definitely don’t want to play sex games with your husband and allow him to hand cuff you, necked, to a bed in a rural cabin on a remote lake in late Fall of the year - for he might drop dead on the floor next to you and leave you in a real fix, as happened in Gerald’s Game.
Whatever your plans are please stay away from Castle Rock, near Freeport, when you are visiting L.L. Beans, for you never know if you will run into a rabid Saint Bernard named Cujo, or feel the need to buy some Needful Things at the local antique store – a real mistake.
This is only a small smattering of the danger of vacationing in Stephen King’s Maine. So, out-of-staters BEWARE! We have every hazzard up here except zombies...Oops!
if you go to Bangor stay away from the Pet Cemetary.
The latest scientific findings from the Republican Party: Abortion should be illegal because a fetus has feelings. Proof that a fetus has feelings is that male fetus masturbates in-uteri.
You could never make this stuff up. You have to pass a test to be a teacher; but any fool can become a Congressman – and is.
A few days ago on Morning Joe on MSNBC one of the guest said that he set up a golf date with a friend on G-Mail and the next day he got advertisments in his e-mail for golf clubs.
How does it feel to be a zombie in love? Do I eat her brain or make love to her? The life of a zombie with sensitive feelings is not all cannibalism and a walk in the park. After all zombies have feelings too.
Or so Isaac Marion would have us believe in his first novel Warm Bodies. The title caught my eye last week at the local library and so I brought it home and placed it by my bed. Last night I picked it up and read the first half. It is not Anna Karenina or Doctor Zhivago but it is worth a read. The Ol’Buzzard
We have the NEW revelation that the government is collecting and sifting through all of our information. Of course, everyone who can think beyond gays, God, guns and people like us already new this.
Then we have the security leaks/ whistle blowers that further divide
the inmates. Are they heros or a traitors?
So, to boil this down, there was a leak of highly classified information on a program that everybody already knew, or suspected, existed since George W’s Patriot Act was passed in Congress. Now here’s my conundrum: When I was in the military I had a Top Secret clearance, and I knew that divulging any information that I had access to would be considered traitorous, and result in serious prosecution and prison time – and during war time the death penalty was a possibility. I took the clearance and the classified information extremely serious and would have protected it with my life. Therefore I have zero tolerance for anyone with a security clearance divulging classified information.
I also feel that military personnel with classified clearances have to be held to a higher standard. BUT Having said this, I also feel that politicians who pull the strings and involve us in wars are always pursuing covert agendas, and are not above lying about, and manipulating information to suite their own purposes. They are able to hide their nefarious intentions in the secrecy of classified information.
In case no one was paying attention: we lost the Vietnam War. Fifty-eight thousand died and a quarter of a million young men were wounded. We had no business involved in that war in the first place. The real reason we were there was disguised by smoke and mirrors – and we were constantly fed propaganda to justify our involvement. Everything real was classified.
We may have called it a withdrawal, but we lost the Iraq War. Nothing was accomplished and that part of the world is more unstable than ever. Also, over four thousand men and women died in that fiasco. The real bull shit that went on there we will never know: Classified.
Even the politicians can’t tell you why we are in Afghanistan – Queen’s rook to F-3 – or some such foolishness. Anyway, it is classified. And then there is the war on terror. What the fuck? The government must know everything on everybody in the entire world to target our enemies. J. Edgar Hoover must be channeling this from beyond. This would have been his wet dream come true.
So, where do I fit into the asylum? The retired military man in me feels it is imperative that we protect our classified information, and punish those with clearances that disclose. The retired military man in me also feels that I, and all my military brothers and sisters, have been royally fucked, and it has all been classified. This new generation live their lives in the virtual reality worlds of Facebook, Twitter, Blogs and 24/7 cell phone connection They may be hypocritical enough to act incensed; but in reality they have already published every aspect of their life into the data world for all to see and hear. It is the older generation, that has somewhat avoided airing every farts and bowel movement into cyberspace; they feels necked and exposed in their new clothes.
So I predict that the inmates will weep and wail and gnash their teeth for a while – until the pudding is served. Then they will all go back to watching clothes spin in the dryer and life will return to normal. All governments have always covertly manipulated their people – and history always repeats itself; and it has happened and will happen again and again and again. And then we will eat our pudding and go back and watch the dryer spin. At my age I no longer have a dog in this fight, and I have seen it all before. So I will just watch – drink a little wine – and line up for my pudding when it is served.
If a tree falls and no one hears it – did it fall? This is psychobabble from a discipline that really believes that humans matter.
If you lay out a time line of the earth on a football field (100 yards,) human in some form have existed for only the last five inches and Homo sapiens for only a little over an inch. Even the concept of a time line is a human construct. The universe doesn’t concern itself with time. The universe just is – perhaps. We have invented time to explain our human existence in some lineal context. And, we invent gods in our own image to convince ourselves that we matter and that we are eternal. The truth is that if we could back up evolution to the very beginning there is no reason to believe that it would evolve in the same manner with the same results. There are too many variables and happenstances that led to our present results; the odds of it happening exactly the same way again would be infinitesimal. Our petty paltry lives have no meaning. We are here today and gone tomorrow. Old cemeteries are full of the bones of unknowns – people who have no legacy other than linage that will some day be bones with no legacy other than linage – perhaps – and then perhaps not… All our accomplishments are gauged on a human scale – and we are by definition an accident of chaos. My great-great grandfather lived in western Kentucky among Southern sympathizers. He broke tradition and joined the Union Army dying in Shiloh, leaving one son and a young wife.
One hundred and fifty years later I am the linage of his existence – big deal – and I soon shall soon be gone.
If the human race had improved and had moved to some utopian plane we might divine some purposeful meaning for the dead gone by – or at least an excuse for our existence in a reference to human good. But, we are the same violent, belligerent, destructive, consumer life form, only now with advanced technology and more powerful weapons. Look at the world: there is no humanity in our race. Religions, political factions, racial prejudice, geographic identity and personal greed drive our human community to constant odds and contention. In reality it is all for naught. We can not as a life form survive. As much as we deny it, our existence is temporary – brief in time that doesn’t exist. Are we remarkable in our technology and our art? Yes – at least by our own values. But does it matter? No. We are here by chance. Yesterday doesn’t exist – or tomorrow. The now – this moment – is all we have. There is no guarantee of a next… I spent a lifetime in the military and another lifetime since then. I have had a number of near-death experiences. There is no country and no politics and no religion and no philosophy worth dying for. Death is the end. What a waste it would have been. Do not carry the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or woes and troubles of the moment on your back. They don’t matter in the long run; for tomorrow there will be new dramas and new outrages. You only have this one brief existence, don’t squander it with unfulfilled desires for an existence that does not and can never exist Take advantage of the accident of life. Look at the colors around you; smell the smells; be aware of the temperature and wind and weather; marvel in the life forms in your ecosystem. Enjoy sex and food and drink and life. Do no harm. The meaning of life is There is no meaning of life The life or Brian How marvelous, How wonderful, I chop wood, I carry water. Zen poem To see the world in a grain of sand, And a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour William Blake Have a good day the Ol’Buzzard
You usually don't think of Maine as a state for blues. However, check out the Maine Blues Project - blues 24/7
Don't get sucked in by the color advertisement buttons: click Maine Blues Project - 102.9 - the listen now arrow.
the Ol'Buzzard
A recent post in Squatlo Rant got me thinking http://squatlo-rant.blogspot.com/2013/06/so-theyre-using-eye-scanning-technology.html The act of thinking doesn’t set single me apart as any kind of intellect; after all, even Louie Gohmert occasionally has some disjointed piece of shit run through his grey matter. But, in the Squatlo Rant post we find that a number of schools have been using eye scanning technology on the students. Squatlo makes the point that this is just a more sophisticated form of bar coding people – a way to create a data base to identify and track people all the way from school age to the end of their life. For people my age and over fifty this raises our hackles and seems a definite step toward Big Brother control. My contention, however, is that this will not be a problem for younger generations. When I was young telephones were hard wired into houses. There were no computers and no internet. Records, if there were any, were kept locally, on paper and in file cabinets. Many people did not have Social Security numbers and many, born at home, had no birth certificates. News coverage was not 24-7 but came on at six-o-clock, for an hour, on the radio; or in a newspaper. Gradually, over a period of time, our information became coveted by businesses and the government. We learned to register for the draft; we applied for credit cards; we became comfortable furnishing our Social Security numbers for identification. The reason we adjusted to these intrusions were because they came in small increments and over a period of time. Then in the nineties we moved from a paper world into digital. We saw the advent of computers storing our information when we applied for college, purchased insurance or applied for jobs. In the late nineties the World Wide Web exploded and our information could then be shared. People forty and older, for a while, resisted the new technology; but the young people moved seamlessly into the new age. This was immediately followed by the total acceptance of cell phones – and again the young generation led the way. Today our information is ‘out there’ on Twitter, Face Book and blogs. We do not hesitate accessing our bank accounts on the web, or sending our credit card information on line to L.L. Beans. Credit companies like Equifax maintain a running update of our financial dealings and furnish our credit score to anyone requesting it. Most people even have their income tax information filed on-line. For us older people this has come fast, but for the young this is as normal as microwave Hot Pockets. We are now required to get a Social Security number for an infant; but I can see, that as the technology improve, one day, perhaps soon, we will eye scan every new born. The records of people’s lives can then be compiled, not by a Social Security number, but by the much more secure eye scan. The way information is shared, we may someday pay for our purchases at Wal-Mart with an eye scan; and purchase on-line with an eye scan from our cell phones. Once upon a time there was talk of implanting chips in people for total identification purposes; but eye scans are less invasive and make more sense. I believe the younger generation could move seamlessly into accepting this as another technological convenience. We seem to have a fear of moving into the Big Brother world of 1984; but I might contend we are already there. If you have not read 1984 by George Orwell (Eric Blair) you should. See if you can find a correlation to today: The enemy of the moment always represented absolute evil. If all others accepted the lie which the party imposed – if all records told the same tale – then the lie passed into history and became true. Who controls the past, ran the party slogan, controls the future: who controls the present controls the past. Imprisonment without trial, the use of war prisoners as slaves, public executions, torture to extract confessions, the use of hostages and the deportation of whole populations not only became common again, but were tolerated and even defended by people who considered themselves enlightened and progressive. In the past no government had the power to keep its citizens under constant surveillance. Double think: (reversed reality – ie: Though shall not kill; but the glorification of war.) The essential act of the party is to use conscious deception while retaining the firmness of purpose that goes with complete honesty. To tell deliberate lies while genuinely believing in them, to forget any facts that has become inconvenient… The proles (people) are only intermittently conscious of the war. When it is necessary they can be prodded into frenzies of fear and hatred, but left to themselves they are capable of forgetting for long periods, that the war is happening. It is in the ranks of the Party, and above all of the Inner Party, that the true war enthusiasm is found. The Patriot Act, wire tapping, the prison at Guantanamo Bay and drone assassinations, among other legacies of the George W Bush administration, have carried up past the point of personal privacy and personal freedom; and we can see from the speed of apprehending the Boston Marathon bombers that our whereabouts can be tracked efficiently. To us, who remember a time before, this is alarming; but a generation from now, as we slide into the comfortable seat offered by Big Brother, it may well be the norm. the Ol’Buzzard
