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I mean — really — this sort of thing hardly makes one’s smallest neural network spark. It’s like shooting the blind in the dark.

I mean, 2:38 !?

That and/or the fact that we do things like this merely because we can and for our pleasure alone:

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Hold Fast


There’s an old rural route two-lane
Take it out past where the radio just can’t
Past the river bridge with a rope swing
And a mailbox painted all John Deere green
The end of a bunch of gravel driveway
Out here doing our own thing

Out in the middle where the hard work meets hard living
Out in the middle where we’re grown ’til we’re gone, God willing
Just some good old boys and good old girls
Hunting red dirt dreams in a concrete world
Getting by on just a little, out in the middle

Come Friday, we come undone
Stay half-lit like the high-life neon
Barely hanging on like sheds in the pole barn
You can hear Hank clear ‘cross the next farm

City folk say we’re crazy
But they ain’t never been way
Out in the middle where the hard work meets hard living
Out in the middle where we’re grown ’til we’re gone, God willing

Just some good old boys and good old girls
Hunting red dirt dreams in a concrete world
Getting by on just a little, out in the middle
Of nowhere, that’s where I wanna be
In the old oak shade by the family graves
With the southern ground on me

Out in the middle where the hard work meets hard living
Out in the middle where we’re grown ’til we’re gone, God willing
Just some good old boys and good old girls
Hunting red dirt dreams in a concrete world
Getting by on just a little, out in the middle

Take heart. Live free. Courage.

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Noted in Passing: Brazilian Traffic Laws Are Lit

It’s now legal in Brazil to kill motorcycle thieves. Compilation video is outstanding.

HT: Venlet

PLEASE. . .
AND THANK YOU!
OR BY MAIL WITH “CASH CHECK OR MONEY ORDER” TO
Gerard Van der Leun // 1692 Mangrove Ave Apt: 379
Chico, CA 95926

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The Covidian Hand Puppet and His Resident Wiccan

On Set with “We’re Americans”:

Later back at the basement:


PLEASE. . .
AND THANK YOU!
OR BY MAIL WITH “CASH CHECK OR MONEY ORDER” TO
Gerard Van der Leun // 1692 Mangrove Ave Apt: 379
Chico, CA 95926

{ 22 comments }

When I Drive Cab by Lew Welch

1. After Anacreon

When I drive cab
         I am moved by strange whistles and wear a hat.

When I drive cab
         I am the hunter. My prey leaps out from where
it
         hid, beguiling me with gestures.

When I drive cab
         all may command me, yet I am in command of all who do.

When I drive cab
         I am guided by voices descending from the naked air.

When I drive cab
         A revelation of movement comes to me. They wake now.
         Now they want to work or look around. Now they want
         drunkenness and heavy food. Now they contrive to love.

When I drive cab
         I bring the sailor home from the sea. In the back of
         my car he fingers the pelt of his maiden.

When I drive cab
         I watch for stragglers in the urban order of things.

When I drive cab
         I end the only lit and waitful thing in miles of
         darkened houses.

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“Now I lay dat buuetiful ribeye down in that ol’ butter bath. . . . Time to get our baste on.”

HT: The Sailor

PLEASE. . .
AND THANK YOU!
OR BY MAIL WITH “CASH CHECK OR MONEY ORDER” TO
Gerard Van der Leun // 1692 Mangrove Ave Apt: 379
Chico, CA 95926

{ 21 comments }

DONALD TRUMP! I’M WITH YOU IN AMERICA

Donald Trump! I’m with you in America
where you’re draining the swamp more than I am

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where you must feel MAGAfied

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where you announce another a newer and more bigly morning

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where you’ve strangled the last progressive
with the entrails of the last liberal

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where you scoff at Democrats’ Trump Dementia

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where we are great citizens of the same Resurrected Republic

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where your sudden appearance on the Interstate
is reported with fear or joy on every website of the Internet

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where the Constitution is read aloud and squashes
the worms of the regressive oppressive progressives

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where we drink the fine summer Diet Cokes of Liberty

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where you midwife a new birth of freedom

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where your mere name makes progressives scream
in their straightjackets and fill up their drool cups to the slosh line

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where you announce the American soul is immortal
and has never yet melted

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where the traitors in the Congress are consumed
in a refining fire

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where the LORD will not suffer
the souls of the righteous to hunger

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where you will split the heavens above Washington
and resurrect the living human Jesus from the
secular tomb

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where there are three hundred million sane citizens
all together singing the final stanza
of The Battle Hymn of the Republic

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where we embrace the United States under
our flag, the stars of the United States that shine all
night and won’t let us sleep in our dream

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
where we wake up luminous and transformed from the coma
of socialism, our states’ stars beautiful
in spacious skies above our fruited plains,
as diamond-armored angelic guardians of the last best hope of Earth
O liberated legions run outside O starry
spangled shock of freedom the eternal war is
won O victory where the memory of the just is blessed:
but the name of the wicked shall rot

Donald Trump, I’m with you in America
in my visions you stride back from a seachange
on the highway across America glowing luminous
our founders’ vision confirmed by God’s holy angels
to the door of my bungalow in the Northwestern night

by Gerard Allen Van der Ginsberg

PLEASE. . .
AND THANK YOU!
OR BY MAIL WITH “CASH CHECK OR MONEY ORDER” TO
Gerard Van der Leun // 1692 Mangrove Ave Apt: 379
Chico, CA 95926

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DEMOCRAT!

 by Gerard Allen Van der Ginsberg

PART II of GROWL

What Socialist Party Fornication Festival of lies and slavery bashed open American skulls and sucked out their freedom, brains, and imagination?

DEMOCRAT! Darwinist Solitude! NEA Filth! Pelosi Perversion! Obamunist Onanism. NPR racism! Recycling Cans to find unobtainable dollars to pay off deficit trillions! Unborn children screaming silent under the D&C! Boys sobbing for fathers! Girls for mothers! Wives for husbands! Husbands for families! Impoverished old men and weeping in the parks!

DEMOCRAT!  Nightmare of Democrat! Democrat the loveless! Gone mental Democrat! Democrat the heavy aggregation of girly-men!

DEMOCRAT! the incomprehensible African-American electoral plantation system of perpetual ideological slavery! Democrat the skull & crossbones soulless Senate and Congress of corruption!

DEMOCRAT! whose headquarters are Fascist overbuilding with gun slits! Democrat the vast bloating stone of Deficit! Democrat the broke government of the pauper nation!

DEMOCRAT! whose mind is pure rusted machinery! Democrat whose blood is gushing tax money! Democrat whose skeleton fingers are in your wallet!

DEMOCRAT! whose breast is a transsexual dynamo! Democrat whose mouth is a smoking tomb! Democrat of the atheist thumb pulling out a plum and saying what a free to be a very bad boy am I! Democrat whose only god is Dracula!

DEMOCRAT! whose eyes are a thousand shattered factory windows! Democrat whose empty skyscrapers smolder in the long Detroit streets like endless Molochs! Democrat whose brains dream Utopia and choke in the fog of their flatulent dementia! Democrat whose fuming bongs and facial piercings crown their crapulous cities!

DEMOCRAT! whose love is lust! Democrat whose soul is welfare and affirmative racism! Democrat whose poverty is perpetual servitude to the government salad bar, no seconds!

DEMOCRAT! whose only true Doctor and Cure is Kevorkian death flatulence! Democrat whose foreign policy is a cloud of glowing Iranian hydrogen! Democrat whose whore is BABYLON THE GREAT, THE MOTHER OF HARLOTS AND ABOMINATIONS OF THE EARTH!

DEMOCRAT! in whom I once sat lonely! Democrat in whom I once dreamt the New Jerusalem! Crazy in Democrat! Sucker of crock in Democrat! Lacklove and lobotomy in Democrat!

DEMOCRAT! of the Dot.com I’ve Got Mine Now Give Us Yours Centimillionaires! Democrat of Trump Derangement Syndrome! Democrat of the dried dugs of Ariana Huffington’s Code Pink Synchronized Menopause Flasher Brigade known as “The View”!

DEMOCRAT! who entered my soul early! Democrat in whom I was sold down the River without Huck or a raft and put over the falls of flowing ideological crypto-socialist sewage! Drowned in recycled recycled recycled compost of Democrat! Democrat who frightened me out of my natural freedom and into hive-mind chants of GLO-BA’ALWARMING-O-BA-MA, GLO-BA’ALWARMING-O-BA-MA!

DEMOCRAT! of the planet has four months to live! Democrat of lies for the common good of Democrat! Democrat of crapper rapper lies of the soul! Democrat whom I abandon!

DEMOCRAT! demanding that I give all to the State! Vomit in Democrat! Avenging Angels streaming out of the sky! Death of Democrat from above! God’s righteous fire on the heads of Democrat-Acorn!, Democrat-SIEU! Democrat-California!, Democrat-Detroit! Democrat-Chicago! Democrat-San Fraudcisco!

DEMOCRAT! Robot apparatchiks! Maoist czars! Evaporated liberties! Skeleton treasuries! Dictator judges! Demonic policies! Spectral communities of Democrat delusional control! Insane Democrat media madhouses! Olbermann siphon-suckers of Democrat septic tanks! Monstrous media leg-tingle “analysis”! Democrat of presidential prop-up! Democrat of Journ-O-list talking pointed heads! Democrat of “Too Big to Jail When Failing!”

Deception of DEMOCRAT! Voters broke their backs lifting Democrat to Heaven! Payments fees now for unborn generations mostly to be aborted, for trees, for tobacco, for tilted windmills, for tons of things so bad, very bad for you we know better pay us now for Democrat death panels later! Democrat of Constitution as toilet paper! Democrat of blowing the cities and American land to hell in a hand-basket!

DEMOCRAT! vision omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! hope of the world sold down the American river!

DEMOCRAT! destruction of legal immigrant Dreams! Democrat of border war beheadings of citizens! Graven Image Adorations made to tin gods! Crack-pipe Illuminations crammed down the throat of taxpayers! Cap and Trade Religions! Democrat rowing ashore the whole boatload of sensitive socialist bullshit!

DEMOCRAT! of a pale horse and the name that sat on him was Democrat Death! And Democrat Hell followed with him!

DEMOCRAT! Breakthroughs in suicide machines! Democrat rivers of toxic educational sludge rising to flood levels in the minds of our children! New Orleans Democrat looting! Democrat flips and crucifixions of enemies, enemies, enemies everywhere! Bill of Rights flushed down the Democrat crapper!

DEMOCRAT!  Fentanyl fueled voter fraud! Democrat Epiphanies of mandated Abortion for all not just for choosy barren Democrat! Democrat Despairs of eternal urban ghettos! Six years’ animal screams and suicide of the Republic for which Democrat does not stand!

DEMOCRAT! Colonized Minds! New lusts for nothing and Democrat kicks and food stamps for free! Mad Democrat cashed-out clunker generation!

Free people despair of DEMOCRAT!

Free people revolt against socialist utopia con-artists!

Free people sound real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell to DEMOCRAT! They jumped off the roof! to vote out DEMOCRAT! forever! waving! carrying flowers! packing heat! Down to the river of freedom! into the street of Liberty, armed and dangerous,

Free people voting death to DEMOCRAT! nightmare now and forever in God’s holy war!

Free people, mine eyes have seen the Glory!


PLEASE. . .
AND THANK YOU!
OR BY MAIL WITH “CASH CHECK OR MONEY ORDER” TO
Gerard Van der Leun // 1692 Mangrove Ave Apt: 379
Chico, CA 95926

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I curse DEMOCRAT!

“I curse DEMOCRAT’S head and all the hairs of DEMOCRAT’s head; I curse DEMOCRAT’s face, DEMOCRAT’s brain (innermost thoughts), DEMOCRAT’s mouth, DEMOCRAT’s nose, DEMOCRAT’s tongue, DEMOCRAT’s teeth, DEMOCRAT’s forehead, DEMOCRAT’s shoulders, DEMOCRAT’s breast, DEMOCRAT’s heart, DEMOCRAT’s stomach, DEMOCRAT’s back, DEMOCRAT’s womb, DEMOCRAT’s arms, DEMOCRAT’s legs, DEMOCRAT’s hands, DEMOCRAT’s feet, and every part of DEMOCRAT’s body, from the top of DEMOCRAT’s head to the soles of DEMOCRAT’s feet, before and behind, within and without.”

“I curse DEMOCRAT going and I curse DEMOCRAT riding; I curse DEMOCRAT standing and I curse DEMOCRAT sitting; I curse DEMOCRAT eating and I curse DEMOCRAT drinking; I curse DEMOCRAT rising, and I curse DEMOCRAT lying; I curse DEMOCRAT at home, I curse DEMOCRAT away from home; I curse DEMOCRAT within the house, I curse DEMOCRAT outside of the house; I curse DEMOCRAT’s dykes, DEMOCRAT’s child, and DEMOCRAT’s slaves, black and white and wise Latina and Islamic whores who participate in DEMOCRAT’s deeds. I curse DEMOCRAT’s crops, DEMOCRAT’s cattle, DEMOCRAT’s wool, DEMOCRAT’s sheep, DEMOCRAT’s horses, DEMOCRAT’s swine, DEMOCRAT’s geese, DEMOCRAT’s hens, and all DEMOCRAT’s livestock. I curse DEMOCRAT’s halls, DEMOCRAT’s chambers, DEMOCRAT’s kitchens, DEMOCRAT’s stanchions, DEMOCRAT’s barns, DEMOCRAT’s cowsheds, DEMOCRAT’s barnyards, DEMOCRAT’s cabbage patches, DEMOCRAT’s plows, DEMOCRAT’s harrows, and the goods and houses that are necessary for DEMOCRAT’s sustenance and welfare.”

“May all the malevolent wishes and curses ever known, since the beginning of the world, to this hour, light on DEMOCRAT. May the malediction of God, that fell upon Lucifer and all his fellows, that cast DEMOCRAT from the high Heaven to the deep hell, light upon DEMOCRAT.”

“May the fire and the sword that stopped Adam from the gates of Paradise, stop DEMOCRAT from the glory of Heaven, until she forebear, and make amends.” [continue reading…]

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FROM AN INTERVIEW GIVEN BY DAVID BYRNE IN 1979:

“There will be chronic food shortages and gas shortages and people will live in hovels. Paradoxically, they’ll be surrounded by computers the size of wrist watches. Calculators will be cheap. It’ll be as easy to hook up your computer with a central television bank as it is to get the week’s groceries. I think we’ll be cushioned by amazing technological development and sitting on Salvation Army furniture. Everything else will be crumbling. Government surveillance becomes inevitable because there’s this dilemma when you have an increase in information storage. A lot of it is for your convenience – but as more information gets on file it’s bound to be misused.” Life During Wartime by Talking Heads 

Heard of a van that is loaded with weapons,
Packed up and ready to go
Heard of some grave sites, out by the highway,
A place where nobody knows
The sound of gunfire, off in the distance,
I’m getting used to it now
Lived in a brownstone, lived in the ghetto,
I’ve lived all over this town

This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco,
This ain’t no fooling around
No time for dancing, or lovey dovey,
I ain’t got time for that now

PLEASE. . .
AND THANK YOU!
OR BY MAIL WITH “CASH CHECK OR MONEY ORDER” TO
Gerard Van der Leun // 1692 Mangrove Ave Apt: 379
Chico, CA 95926
[continue reading…]

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Noted in Passing: Per aspera ad astra


A father designed this headstone for his wheelchair-bound son depicting him free of his earthly burdens. Matthew Stanford Robison Memorial in Salt Lake City, Utah; USA. Matthew was born blind and partially paralyzed, and died at the age of 11.

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Puddy: The Gift

puddygravesite.jpg

And when we were children, staying at the archduke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

        — Eliot

Last Sunday in Seattle I was still sitting with my morning coffee when the phone rang. It was my old friend, the constant urban explorer, who lives a few blocks away. “I want to give you a gift,” he said, “but I can’t bring it to you. Instead, you’ve got to go to it.” This man’s gifts are not lightly chosen (Except for the inflatable Sarah Palin love doll — but he’s getting that one back when he least expects it.), so I listened.

“Write this down. Walk to the Mt. Pleasant Cemetery in your neighborhood.”

“Oh..kay…..”

“No. No. You’ll be glad you did. Then go in the main entrance and stroll along the road on the west side.”

“Right.”

“Look to your left for a large white stone with two benches on either side of it. The name carved into the stone is ‘PUDDY.’ ”

“Got it.”

“Sit down on a bench and look around. That’s your gift. Talk to you later. Oh, you’ll want to take your camera.”

I wondered for a moment if this could be some sort of geocaching joke. At the same time, I knew it wasn’t. He’s a man with little use for the latest techno-ephemera. He values time, his, and others. Sleeveless errands are not his style. It was a bright, somewhat cool, Indian Summer Sunday in Seattle and the cemetery was only a few blocks away. I suited up and out the door I went. In a few minutes, I was walking into the cemetery and looking around.

Mt. Pleasant is a fine cemetery as cemeteries go. Quiet and expansive without being overlarge. You can be buried with your own kind if you are Asian or Jewish, or you can just be planted helter-skelter in the great Seattle diversity plots that make up most of its area. I’ve written about this place before in Small Flags, a meditation about loss and war, but the cemetery tells, as all cemeteries do, more than one kind of story if you settle your soul down and listen.

At first, I was a bit disoriented inside the gates since the one-lane road winds hither and yon around the grounds and the office with the map to the gravesites is closed on Sundays. By and by, however, I spied off to my left and over near the wall of trees and bushes and chain link fencing that is the western border of the cemetery a large white stone with two white stone benches on either side. I went over and read:

PUDDY

Come sit with us awhile and share our sorrow. Though you weep share the joyful memories too. Look in your heart: In truth you mourn for that which has been your delight.

For Joy and sorrow are inseparable.

I sat and looked north to the outer edge of the large plot that, so far, had only one grave. And there they were. [continue reading…]

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Dan Patterson: “That was a very clear observation on human nature – we humans can either find the root of the problem and address it, or a conveniently associated noun or verb and address that instead. One attraction to attacking the scapegoat instead of the root is the poorly positioned sources for representation if they exist at all. Any support for the assigned enemy is quickly shouted down and if not subdued is placed in the camp of, not just an opposing view but the enemy itself. Just ask anyone objecting to the Iraq war and occupation, or a male supporting the protection of the unborn.

“And it happens on a personal playing field as well as a national one. Get in a discussion with a close friend or intimate about a subject you two do not agree on; instead of a rational and logical point-counter-point does the discussion devolve into the heated broad-stroke assignment of “camps” or “(X)-wing talking points”? If you’re lucky the opponent will decide you are not worthy of wasting their time and toss the playing board to the ground and strut arrogantly away. My experience is exactly that most of the time, so it is less damaging to retreat and disengage.

“It is that retreat and disengagement that is the trouble, I suppose. Doing that gives ground and moves the front lines closer to the enemy’s objective. And it is that point at which I disagree with the learned author of this piece: Yes it is likely the normies will be whipped into a lather to vent their spleens at a foreign throne, but that is less effective now than in the past. The Ukraine mess, for example, is far too grey to fall into the narrative; too many crimes from Uke and some justification from the Russkies. The Myth of the Noble Savage, too, is long in the tooth, and stirring additional outrage about this tribe against that one because of unjust modern oppression does not pass the smoke test.

“The people like me who once backed away must now speak, and clearly. The enemy is not a scapegoat but a trojan horse. The enemy bent on our destruction, and making extraordinary gains toward our extinction, is our own government, local, state, and national. The enemy.

“Read the Constitution and founding documents, diaries, newspapers, and pamphlets of the late 1700s and up to the mid-1800s. There is a clear direction for independent thought and action, and clear protections against scapegoats created to distract and deflect. If that sounds too much like either the Russian Revolution against the Czars or the American Revolution against The Crown, so be it.”

Dan Patterson
August 7, 2022, 6:23 PM

PLEASE
AND THANK YOU!
OR BY MAIL WITH “CASH CHECK OR MONEY ORDER” TO
Gerard Van der Leun // 1692 Mangrove Ave Apt: 379
Chico, CA 95926

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Strange Gaze: The Crazed Eyes of George Soros


George Soros vows to keep backing woke DAs despite urban crime spikes The Capital Research Center reported in January of this year that Soros has given more than $29 million to left-wing district attorney candidates through a network of political action committees. Other incumbents who have benefited from the largesse include Larry Krasner in Philadelphia, Kim Foxx in Cook County, Ill., Kim Gardner in St. Louis, and Kim Ogg in Harris County, Texas.

When parking in the handicapped space is prescient.

Richard Barnes Sharpshooter’s Den After Gardner, Gettysburg, 2013

As you look at this picture, you’re on a planet spinning at 1,040 miles per hour, or .3 miles per second. (That’s at the equator. You can calculate your own personal speed by multiplying the cosine of your latitude by 1,040). The earth spinning beneath your feet is at the same time hurtling around the sun at 18.5 miles per second. In addition, your entire solar system is cartwheeling around the milky way at 140 miles per second. Even at that incomprehensible speed, it will still take 250 million years for you to complete a single rotation around the galaxy. Pitted against these immense facts, this small square image controls your psychological outlook and gives you a feeling of calm. [continue reading…]

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