I was going out again today, but I had heat flashes. Swell. Yeah guys get these too. I went outside for a bit, but came back in fast. It's only in the mid-80's, but Risky for me. So maybe tomorrow. Meanwhile iced tea, and the A.C. so far so good.

"I Still Believe in Angels"

"Rainbow Above my local Library"

"FUCK AUGUST"

Hi gang!

Just a reminder that my main blog has moved to:

https://sindneymakings1959.blogspot.com/

Of course I still post here, and my other pages.

However my everyday rants are at the above.

Keep coming here now, and then 

as there are different things on each blog.

Though I spend most of my time at

"Thoughts, and Prayers"

https://sindneymakings1959.blogspot.com/

'Hope to see you there.

If I haven't said it today...

"FUCK AUGUST!"

Otherwise enjoy the balance of the Summer.

"Fucking Vote 2020"

"You can Trust a Man who likes Curry!"

"No One in the Opposition can Dare say this of Themselves."

Dear Uncle Eats all the Fucking Curry 

He can get! 

*

"Hotter the Fucking Better!"

Sez our Dear Uncle, and Savior from Bullshit!

"Accidents of Birth"

A pal over on Facebook went through his genealogy program, and found his family was distantly related to the Brit Royal Family. Somehow via some Prince a zillion years ago in Saxony.

Look deep enough into the gene pool you'll find crap like that.

As it happens I'm very distantly related to mass murderers as well. The fucking Tolbert's of Liberia. These guys looted murdered oppressed the people of the failed state of Liberia forever.

"Distant Cousin Tolbert"

Liberia for them that were absent that day is the only America colony in Africa. Note family resemblance in their flag above. President Monroe a million years ago started it to get rid of the darkies by dumping them in the first clearing in the fucking jungle he could find.

He gave these poor bastards "Independence", and didn't look back.

As with all colonies there was already folks there,...yeah they were off to the races from day one. The Natives were fucked what with having these new guys hanging around with the backing of the American Army, and Navy. 

It didn't end well.

Cut to 1980. Basically the Natives killed everybody. However some of them Tolbert's got away with a big chunk of the treasury, and retired to Geneva,...I didn't even get a t-shirt.

As is traditional in these situations Boss Tolbert the XIII or whatever was over thrown by a Sargent. Idi Amin was a Sargent as well. Hitler only made Corporal. Non-coms are bad for business.

Former "Sargent General Boss for Life Doe"

The new Boss for Life "Sargent Doe" as by tradition at once promoted himself to General then President for Life,...which proved to be rather short,...also traditional.

He instituted a reign of French Revolution style Terror. A hot time was had by all. There followed decades of the chaos we've come to ignore in that part of the world. Their current major export are Child Soldiers. Btw they're still an unofficial American colony.

I read when #45 found out about them he allegedly suggested that Black welfare cheats, and drug addicts could be dumped there. Much as the Brits used Australia. Basically sentence as many darkies as possible to "Transportation".

I don't think I'd like it there. 

I mean besides river blindness Ebola AIDS  getting beheaded,...that French terror stuff they so like. Besides all that noise. If they find out who my distant relations were I might get special treatment. Something involving extra crispy.

Family is a bitch.

"A Light Onto the World"

"A Light Onto the World"

Years ago I did a treatment for a children's story. I read some of it on the air. I never got it to work though. The story was a good one, but just didn't jell.

That is till I realized it wasn't supposed to be a story...not exactly. "Beulah's  Window" was a descriptive few lines in the middle of a long confused narrative.

I scarped away all the static, and let those few line free.

"Beulah's Window"
The window was a symphony of dreams. The window was composed of dozens of shards. Cast off bits of stained glass that Beulah the Forest Woman, Beulah the Witch, Beulah the Angel had assembled into Magic.

As the afternoon sun played across it. Here was illuminated a hand fragments of clouds. There a lily there a smile. Then a yellow crescent moon. 

Throughout were floating embers of deep blue bright reds shades of gold fragments of turquoise. In it's upper portions were bits of alabaster doves, and a spray of purple, and rose.

Such was Beulah's Window.   

"Hell"

Skip past this if you want. I'm reliving my time of Homelessness again...this happens as you know by now.

Being out there was for me a lonely experience. Unlike my brother's Vietnam war experience. He told me that at least he was with others. At least even if he were killed he'd be with people he knew.

The contemporary Homeless experience, it's near 10 years ago for me. That experience was mostly an individual one. Unlike a soldier's or the Depression era Hobo's experience. There are many reasons for this I guess. The break-up of our sense of community as a nation, and such.

Though I met others, and was given advice by old timers I was we were nonetheless on our own.

This just made it all the more a brutal, and lonely thing.

Like being in a war the experience was an exquisitely intense one on all levels of human emotion. One that will never cease.

In the same way soldiers take their wars with them to their graves. I have found it's the same for others that have had extreme experiences in their lives.

Battered wives abused children assaulted inmates. I'm thinking also of firemen cops emergency workers health workers. The whole community of frontline, and abused peoples

All the forms of human tragedy live on after the events have happened, and outwardly seemed to pass. This over the last 100 or so years was vaguely understood. Only now is taken more seriously. There are millions of walking wounded among us. You see us every day everywhere. You see us, and even know us.

If the scars were visible there would be a national even a world wide shock at how many are walking with hell within them.

All of us quietly coming to terms with our individual experiences of a living death on earth. 

"...no faith"

As you know I have a thing for dolls. It was one of the first things we did after fire, and music...okay beer too. These began as spirit icons. Still are subliminally. Later it reflected our family structures. Children nurturing tribal lineages. Then our warrior traditions.

Now they illustrate, and re-enforce our addictions to individualism power random violence, and gross consumerism.

Exhibit "A" above.

I have no idea what digital game this came from, and it doesn't matter. Just as any religious icon from any  cult or faith individually doesn't matter. It teaches re-enforces. It does it job that's all.

This item like all it's cohort is what is valued right now.

Our dreams of a barbaric return.

Our it seems world-wide desire to be freed from the constraints of the Enlightenment. Such items as above. Along with the mass fascination with end-time fantasies apocalyptic films comic books games, and cults sez much.

We have no faith in our futures.

None.

Our interconnected world culture is in a vast scream of madness, and agony.

I hope schools of contemporary social anthropology are keeping track of all this. Because these specimens will tell our story to future cultures.

...and despite us there will be some.

My dollies are much nicer, and harken back to "Spirit Icon" beginnings of them sweet things. See above.

"Bike"

This morning I had a memory of something my mother told us when we were little. This from during WW2. The Western Union boy, and then it was boys. They'd bike onto the block, and everyone knew what this meant.
People would watch to see where he'd stop praying it wasn't your house. The kid would go to a door. Then there'd be crying screaming, and such.
This as news that a son brother or father had been killed in action.
This was that war at home.