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Archive | January, 2020

Sunday; Woolgathering

The Senators took Sunday to retreat to their districts or Iowa, whichever would vote on their asses first. I watched Tennis from Australia, contemplated my navel and, as the other end of an axis, the Galaxy.
My attention was drawn to an article from Sky News about Prince Charles’ visit to Palestinian districts in Israel.
Prince Charles has said it is his “dearest wish” that Palestinians see “freedom, justice and equality” in the future.
Speaking during his historic first visit to the Occupied Palestinian Territories, the royal said there should be an end to the “suffering and division” in Bethlehem.
That’s a very British “wish.” It created North Ireland and the rest of Ireland, and Pakistan and India, not to mention Israel vs. the rest of the Middle East. If he could come up with a basis for dialog (meaning maybe a bank or two that would actually encourage economic success on both sides of the cultural divide) he could do some actual, humanistic good.
Recently I saw a kid’s animated TV show in which two populations were eternally at war with each other.
“Why?”
There was a moment, thinking about it.
“Because we hate each other?”
Hate doesn’t occur to babies. It has to be taught, carefully. There’s so many advantages to cross-cultural acceptance (starting with ethnic restaurants) that you’ve got to wonder what benefits there could possibly be to hatred. And, to whom.
Banks can find profit in conflict, both in causing destruction and in re-construction. No doubt that deaths will accompany the destruction. These deaths raise political problems for the banks. Some of those problems are deflected by hiding the banks’ involvement with the destruction.
Who’s in a better position to take those banks out of the destruction business than the Prince of Wales?

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And Another Thing …

It’s Sunday. All the Senators have gone somewhere else – home, Iowa, maybe even New Hampshire, those with foresight.

Meanwhile, I’d like to bring up something bucolic. After all, the next time it’s Sunday, it’ll be Groundhog Day, and if the fat rodent’s been watching the same things I have, he won’t be able to stand up, much less focus his eyes on his shadow, till after the Super Bowl.

Here’s a pre-vernal thought, then, for post-impeachment America.

Access to water must be secured. It will soon be a fundamental infrastructure responsibility of government like maintaining roads and, for that matter, preserving undeveloped land.
The Salton Sea was created by accident in 1905, when water from the Colorado river spilled out of a poorly-constructed California Development Company irrigation system into a desert basin. The lake grew over the next two years, until workers were able to staunch the massive flow.
Resort towns grew around the lake, surrounded by farms. By the Sixties it was famous. Middleclass and elite festivities abounded. The farms prospered.
It’s dead, now. Its beaches are made, not of sand, but of the bones of innumerable fish. Farm fields are once again desert.
The lake, simply, was poisoned by the chemical runoff from the fertilized fields.
Once this kind of stuff was exceedingly rare.
Next time you look at Asia, follow a path due east of the northern end of the Caspian Sea. There used to be a roughly circular body of water there. The Aral Sea was deleted from the Earth by a Soviet attempt to irrigate a small quadrant of Kazakhstan.
Once, common sense was common.

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A Pimp for All Seasons

If he’d pimped out his wife he’d be gone by now. Instead, he violated his oath of office. Shit. What’s an oath?

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Impeach tRump: Day 1

Dear God, please be there.
Whoever, wherever you are, please manifest yourself. Make yourself known, take over the US Senate, guide it in the paths of rightousness.
I am small and afraid. Government, so overpowering before citizens, is so very fragile at its foundation. A construct, it nonetheless lives, can be injured, can die.
Alive, government has a spirit-life, which must be maintained with nourishment. Life has been demonstrated to thrive solely through consumption of entities embodying life-spirit of a different nature from its own. Cannibalism must be reserved as a garnish, a seasoning, a chutney rather than a side-dish. Same as corn curls or peanut brittle it is something that gives flavor to life. It’s a flavor that frankly scares the shit out of me. I don’t recmmend anybody indulge in it. Instead, in our culture, it must be reserved for use by those whose lives are being extinguished in snowdriven abandonment …
Jesus. How did I get herded into that canyon??? Nobody I know wants to eat tRump. Strand him in a blizzard, maybe. Beat him unconscious with icy snowballs …tempting, but not even that.
Like the man says, let the evidence be presented to the Senate. Let it speak to the Senators. In fact, let it alone talk to them and let them hear it without prejudice.
Once again, I’ll quote Peter O’Toole:
“When did I decide I was God? I was praying, and I realized I was talking to myself.”
Maybe God is, in fact, a blue elephant-shaped female with a dozen arms. Personally, I believe God resides within each of us.
Righteousness thrives on honest consideration of facts of history. There is no objective history, If you don’t know that, you haven’t read enough history, History can however be honestly considered. That’s what’s necessary now.
Our government was created by men of high but not superhuman intelligence. They were practically unique in their world in their inclusion of viewpoint and ability to account for further inclusion. They built a government that has outlived (I think) all governments (other than the British) in existence then or founded since (I’m asking: could this be true?). Largely this was through minimalized corruption and limits on arbitrary use of power.
I appeal to that spirit of righteousness, part of the spirit that runs through all life, to guide our Senate in this crucial time.

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My FaceBook Banishment

This was written sometime in early December, 2019. I posted it on my page, so as to not lose it, and then sent it to every one on my “friend” list I could remember. The list itself of course was lost, as recounted below. The list wasn’t more than seventy or so people. I think I remembered about forty. I think twenty-five or so have responded by now. As I think of people, I continue to request friendship of them. My blog, though, is about to change. Stay tuned.


This is not a scam.
Facebook banned me around the end of November 2019, accusing me of abuse and other forms of moral torpitude. Maybe I was hacked. Maybe I was the victim of an interstellar conspiracy, but I couldn’t contact Facebook to find out anything about it so we’ll never know. To me, this is nothing but crazy bullshit. Doubtless, something went down and there was some purpose behind it, but that’s all I’ll ever know. After trying five or six approaches I gave up and started over as Paul Hugh Freedman. When I tried to open my old “Paul Freedman” thingy, it opened. But my entire”friend” roster has been wiped out. I sent everyone I could remember a new request. As time passes and I remember the others, I’ll send requests to them, too. I had of course posted this on my FB page, but it’s been deleted. I think FB now deletes stuff after some time – deletes it from public access. They keep it somewhere, though. They can always retrieve it. Just you can’t.
I’m going to get a beer.

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