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[Translation: Here’s the swatch. Here’s the bullshit. Here’s the bullshit again in video for those graphic designers and others who cannot read anything longer than a Stop sign. And  now here’s the bullshit where we spell out the bullshit…] [continue reading…]

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We’d finished filming John and Yoko for the video a day or so before he was shot to death. It was their last video, but of course, we didn’t know it at the time. There was film of them holding hands and walking in Central Park in the place that would later become “Strawberry Fields.” We’d filmed them rolling naked in bed together in a Soho Art Gallery where she looked healthy and ample and he looked small and slight, with skin that was almost translucent. I remember being slightly surprised by the fact that Lennon’s need for Ono was so constant and palpable. He was seldom more than two feet away from her side and had the disconcerting habit of calling her “Mommy” whenever they spoke.

My role was as “executive producer” which really meant that I was to stand around with a roll of hundred dollar bills and pay-off the Teamsters and solve other problems with copious applications of money. It was an odd job in more ways than one, but I was grateful to have it at the time.

We’d sent the last of the film to the lab, and my old friend and director Ethan Russell had gone back to Los Angeles to begin editing. The crew had dispersed and I’d taken to my bed racked with pain. The job, this time, had been so tough and high stress that my neck had gone out. I could barely turn my head without feeling as if a sledge was hammering a hot-needle into the cervical vertebrae. I was lying carefully propped on the bed eating Bufferin as if they were Tic-Tacs and trying not to move. My neck was held in one of those tight foam collars. Not moving was the best thing to do at the time and I was doing it with all my might.

It was a small one-bedroom apartment on the East Side of Manhattan. My first wife and I were there after three years of living in London, Paris, the Algarve, and other European locations. She was eight months pregnant with our daughter and looked as if she was trying to smuggle a basketball across state lines for immoral purposes. Her mood, never really cheerful, was not improved by her situation.

The apartment was on loan from her uncle’s girlfriend. I was down to my last few thousand dollars and was looking for a job. The film gig had been a gift from my old friend Ethan, and I’d been glad to get it. But it was over and, with a baby banging on the door of the world, things were not looking up. At the time, the only thing looking up was me since my neck required me to lie flat and gaze at the ceiling. It had been a rough two weeks but I thought things would certainly improve.

And of course, that’s when things got worse. It got worse in the way most things do, the phone rang and my wife called out, “It’s for you.”

Some New York wag once said, “Age fourteen is the last time in your life when you’re glad the phone is for you.”

I groped blindly to the side of the bed and picked up the extension. It was Ethan calling from an editing room in Los Angeles. “John’s been shot. He’s dead.” [continue reading…]

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Days of Rage | Status 451 is a long contemplative review of days I remember when I was running through the Berkeley streets pursued by shotgunning Oakland Police deputies before being tear-gassed by National Guard helicopters. Good times!

Pay attention because this sort of thing is coming back in spades.

“People have completely forgotten that in 1972 we had over nineteen hundred domestic bombings in the United States.” — Max Noel, FBI (ret.) [continue reading…]

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They have put something in the water
They seek a cure for the conversation
They stole a march on your indecision
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This alone should win Trump a 3rd term


I hate low-flow showers more than I hate life itself. So once again Orange Man is my main man. Trump takes aim at trickle-down toilets, faucets “We have a situation where we’re looking very strongly at sinks and showers and other elements of bathrooms,” Trump told a meeting of small business leaders at the White House. “You turn the faucet on in areas where there’s tremendous amounts of water … and you don’t get any water,” he added.

He said the Environmental Protection Agency was looking “very strongly at my suggestion.”

The fixtures “end up using more water,” Trump told the roundtable where U.S. officials also reviewed his agenda of slashing regulations such as those on efficient light bulbs. “People are flushing toilets 10 times, 15 times, as opposed to once,” he said.

For the last five showerheads I  had to do this to them: [continue reading…]

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Re: Ka-ching

Did I ever mention that I have another sometimes blog page? It’s KA-CHING! and at the moment it looks like this.

… and so on down the scroll.

The first entry into KA-CHING! was in February of 2007. After that, a mere 30,561 other entries brings us up to the present. [There’s a grided archive page with thumbnails for masochists.]

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What size are Donald Trump’s? Bigger.

Mark Knoller, CBS News’ White House correspondent, pointed out how much bigger Trump’s shakers were in a tweet on Thursday.

Insider combed the photo archives and found that Trump more often than not gets much larger salt and pepper shakers than other foreign leaders or American politicians when dining at the White House. And we couldn’t find instances of Trump’s most recent predecessors using larger shakers than those of their guests.

The large shakers might just be because he enjoys salty foods like KFC chicken, Big Macs, and bacon and eggs. But it could also be another power move, alongside his fierce handshakes and bulky suits.

These photos show how much bigger Trump’s White House salt and pepper shakers usually are than everyone else’s, and how they compare to those of Presidents Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, and Barack Obama.

Photos show Trump’s ridiculously large salt and pepper shakers 

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Global War by Lee Sandlin

By the time of Pearl Harbor the war had erupted in Norway and Mongolia, on Crete and in the Dutch East Indies; the Italian Army had marched on Egypt, and the German army was pushing into the outskirts of Moscow; there had been savage fighting in Finland north of the Arctic Circle and sea battles off the coast of Argentina. The United States was one of the last secluded places left on earth.

But the depths of that seclusion were still profound. This is one of the things about America in those days that’s hardest for us to imagine now: how impossibly far away people thought the problems of the world were. It’s not just that there was no TV, and thus no live satellite feed from the current crisis zone. America didn’t even have a decent road system back then. Any long trip across the country was a fearsomely ambitious undertaking — and foreign travel was as fanciful as an opium dream. People grew up with the assumption that anything not immediately within reach was inconceivably far away. It wasn’t unusual for them to spend every moment of their lives within walking distance of the place where they were born — and to die thinking they hadn’t missed a thing.


[ Note: Another Excerpt from a long read on the realities of World War II: Losing the War – by Lee Sandlin]


There’s a phrase people sometimes use about a nation’s collective reaction to events like Pearl Harbor — war fever. We don’t know what a true war fever feels like today since nothing in our recent history compares with it; even a popular war like the gulf war was preceded by months of solemn debate and a narrow vote in Congress approving military action. World War II came to America like an epidemic from overseas. Immediately after Pearl Harbor, recruitment offices all over America swarmed with long lines of enlistees; flags and patriotic posters popped up on every street and store window; wild and hysterical cheers greeted the national anthem at every rally and concert and sporting event. Overnight the war was the only subject of conversation in the country; it was the only subject of the movies you could see at the local theater (Blondie and Dagwood were absorbed into the war effort in Blondie for Victory; Sherlock Holmes came out of retirement to chase Nazi spies in Sherlock Holmes in Washington). War was the only acceptable motif in advertising: for years after Pearl Harbor every manufacturer of spark plugs and orange juice routinely proclaimed that its product was essential to an Allied victory. [continue reading…]

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Seed

Long Poem Placed Here for the Archive

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True but Forbidden #53: Make America Bounce Again

Faster Please, the Election is in 2020:  Diogenes’ Middle Finger: First Human Composting Facility To Begin Operation in 2021

President Blutarsky Will Eat The Peach Mints  This is how Donald Trump will remain President for four more years. We know the Dems have to impeach him or face The Box Wine Maenads of the mid-life crisis bureaucracy.

Pamela Karlan went above and beyond yesterday. She hath yea, verily ascended to The Archetype of The Piss-Biting Shrew. Her testimony did not bring legal expertise to bear on the deep and solemn issue of whether to impeach President Blutarsky. It popped a suppurating pustule of post-menopausal neurosis deeply analogous to the current state of the Amerikan Empire. Rather than the cute, little cat pictures from Zuckerface, what we got yesterday was the yowl of the pointless, spoiled bitch kitty.

The Sensible Solution to Africa’s Overpopulation Problem    Learn a hobby, Africans. Start practicing yoga. Keep a journal. Make lists. Visit a family member you haven’t seen in years. Pray the rosary. Become a YouTuber. I’m certain that when you have no job prospects and all that stands before you is a vast wasteland of sand and buzzards, sexual intercourse must seem like a welcome release.

“It takes a village to raise a child,” goes the African folk saying. But your subcontinent is so economically devastated, it takes a village to afford a child.

You need to learn from your mistakes, Africans. Grow up and keep it in your pants. It’s your only hope.

UP IN SMOKE: Willie Nelson, 86, says he’s no longer smoking marijuana due to breathing issues. Doesn’t matter. These days he can just order up some Pot Suppositories, “Preparation Bong.” That is if that hole is still working. [continue reading…]

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If it’s worth doing, it’s worth overdoing.

Well, to be fair, we did tell them to put down their phones and go outside to play. A cinematic snowball fight shot on iPhone 11 Pro by David Leitch, who has directed: John Wick, Deadpool 2, and Fast & Furious: Hobbs & Shaw.

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