The Native Iowan

I am a bit shocked to realise its been a month since I have posted anything. Life has been busy, frenetic…

It’s hot out. Queensland, in her furnace mode… 36c/ 98f, a blazing hot sun, a constant breeze that dries and desiccates. Within the past week the property has gone from nice green to burnt brown.

Ive seen hotter, been in hotter weather, even worked in hotter weather. But this is not friendly at all.

It is indeed “inside where it’s cool” weather. The aircon is working well. As long as all family members refrain from tickling the controls, the system we have here is very good. It is a modern central-air system, with individual setting for each room. The flaw in the system is that the main “unit” is at the far end of a long house. If we were to open up all the vents and set all the fans, on the far side of the house, to high, there would be nothing coming out at the near-side of the system. So I set the temp at 23c/ 74f, set the fans at high, and set the rate of flow to each room accordingly… the far-side rooms get 30% flow and the big room at the end of the house gets 100%. And it works well. Enough cool for everyone, every room.

Until someone decides they want to reset it all.

Which is often.

There was, of course, a time before air conditioning when folks just lived with the heat, the humidity, the discomfort.

Not sure if we’re getting weaker, or smarter. Does getting smarter, making life easier, make us weaker?

Probably.

But digging the Panama Canal by hand made sense, then. Would it make sense now?

It’s about midday. A nice long list of UFC fights are on. 4 more hours of blood sports. Suits me!

The world at large is rather uninteresting right now. Nothing much really going on that is “different”, important, or even of comment… ???

The various elections have come and gone. Status quo has been re-established. The bovine minded herd that is the general populace appear to be docile, cooperative.

There is a lot of noise being made about various factions on the USofA who either support, threaten or rumour-monger violence. The Po-Boys, Do-Boys, Dumb-Boys, Anti-fascist-fascists, Fascist anti-fascists, Bury-Loving-Mothers, Burn-Loot-Murder, and many other organisations that promote, disseminate and create confusion all appear to be sitting in the warmth of their parent’s basements. Perhaps waiting for spring, and more paid mayhem and violence in the name of… What?

20:20 has been an amazing world. One where the status quo has been upset. In more ways than one.

Here in Australia, the boarders are opening up. The lock downs are supposedly ending.

Will there be more? Being a cynic I say “yes”, there will be more. When and if it suits the “managers”.

And the beat goes on.

Smiles

More later

I had discussed being ill with Malaria, getting way behind work and my lack of time to pat too much attention to the US scene.

My dear old compadre, DB, sent me a big of a victory lap email this morn. he fucking hates Trump.

My reply to DB:

DB,

Interesting times indeed. 

You and I differ in many ways, but when it comes to Trump/USPolotics, I have no dog in the fight. My centrist nature serves me very well, and has been an asset over the past 4years. 

Grace and were talking about it recently. She fucking hates TheDonald. Thinks him mean and nasty and unfriendly. She’s probably right. 
She was thinking about a one term presidency, we discuss,  and I tell her of Jimmy Carter. 

Probably he nicest man to reside in the Oval Office since Truman. 
Jimmy was everything a president could be… gentle, strong, well spoken, polite. Just an all around church going nice guy.

But his policies sucked. By 1980 the US was in the worse state it’d been in since the 40s/50s.

So he got voted out. 

Trump is the opposite. A fucking arse hole by nature. He prises in himself the qualities most mothers breed out of their sons…. Meanness, vindictiveness, nastiness…

But his policies brought us unheard of progress in many fields. Peace Treaties in the Middle East where Arabs and Persians alike support and now protect Isreal. He brought a common sense to the boarder/ immigration issues which had been festering and corrupting the land for years. He reversed the trend of trading US productivity for cheap goods. In 4years the US has seen an economic resurrection no one could have predicted. But because he was an arsehole…

He got voted out.

Thats my take on it.

By the by… in the last month or so, after almost 10years of “playing the game”, Grace and I were granted Permenant Residency here in Aus. In 12 more months we qualify (its time in residence based ) for citizenship. 
So, hoenstly, in all reality, I have no dog in the US political fight. Of course I am interested and pay close attention, but I don’t own anything in the USA. May well never return under the current state of affairs. Have never voted there. So, consider my views that of an Australian looking in from the outside. 

Here in Aus voting is mandatory. So within a  year or so I too shall be going to the polling both, as a 65 yr old virgin.

I kinda look forward to it.

Big smiles. I wish all well in the USofA. I hope your looney left friends don’t loose the plot. I believe the rush to “undo” so much so fast may well cause the children in charge to “drop the china” so to speak.

As well… considering it boiled down to ballot counting in Philly… the most prone place to have ballot fraud ever in the US, I doubt its as clean and dried as supposed. The blue (or red) waves that were predicted did not happen. DNC lost seats in the House. Did not pick much up in the Senate. So it could well be a long slow eventless 4year term.

Time will tell.

Big smiles.

More later

Going through a bout of malaria. It’s a long, not uncommon tale, if you have lived in the tropics. Our entire family all had solid run-ins with malaria before their first birthday. Not common in the Western World but remains the second highest killer world wide.

But not to fear! We have always kept doses of “the treatment” on hand. Have to. Without it we’d be in a lot grief. Noting though that no one here has had a bout for quite some time. Long enough for me to kinda forget what it was… I was sick but not terribly sick, Thought it a low level flu bug, but had tale-tale aches and pains in my bones, which I’d forgotten about. Been so long.

I feel much better now. Knowing the illness will come back as the medicine wears low. You knock the virus back, it fights back, you push more. The drugs are not pleasant to take. Some are much worse than the illness.

We used to talk about the “malaria diet”.

Standard Malarial treatment (there are several possible drugs) entails 3 or 4 days of meds. The prescription I have here is 4xtabs for 3 days. Got my first half dose in last eve. Another half this morn. So, after just a days worth of treatment I’m feeling much better.

And I feel the fog rolling in… time to go…

Wednesday eve on this side of the planet. Election mania is real. Election hysteria is a possibility. But, as the guy falling down a 20 story building was heard to say as he passed the 10th floor… “…sofar so good…”.

I have been feeling quite ill the last couple days. There are external stresses to contribute, no doubt… life, family, buizzyness and business. Of course the. US elections attract a lot of attention and it do raise the angst. But this is not normal.

Last night was a rough one… I ache all over. Can’t lie comfortably. Toss n turn n moan n groan. Up from the bed and to a recliner, then back, then back. Then on the floor. Two rough nights in a row makes old farts unhappy.

I had a meeting to go to this morn but I felt terrible. meeting not until noon, so I’m showered n laid on other couch listening to the Election Results. I plan to text the guy I’m going to meet that I feel terrible, but I actually doze. A bit. Makes me feel better. I decide to go to my meeting.

It’s not far. I drive and as I’m tooling along it dawns on me… I am having a mild bout of Malaria. It’s the only answer.

I 3feel better having deduced the situation. It’s been ages and ages since I’ve had a bout of The Big M, so forgot the tale-tale is the aching bones, especially in the back.

I got home a few hours ago . Where ever I go, what ever I or my family do, we have learned to keep Malarial drugs on hand. It’s is a must if your’s is as “tropical” as my tribe is.

So if did a half dose plus some vitamin C and a Panadol. I sat/ lay quiet for a while. Even got a foot massage from Gracie.

Just had a deep hot bath, and must admit to feeling much better. I look forward to some sleep tonight.

So, screw the election. Thanks god for on-hand malarial-meds.

More later

.

Saturday here in QLD. Proper summer weather out… 30c/90f. Windy day. Sun is hot and the humidity is 46%. Summer has come to QLD.

Call is for more rain this afternoon, but I dont really see it. Good chance for a squall to blow through. It’s hot enough for a decent storm cell to bring hail down. But I dont think the humidity is high enough, and the wind disturbs the air sufficiently to keep it from getting unruly.

The wind chime is twinkling. The trees around us are being very vocal.

You ever listen to trees/ really listen?

The Palms are like a snare drum with brushes. subtle, very noticeable but subtle.

The tall and royal Gums are noisy buggers. Classic Aussies. They compete for attention. The tall 100plus footer can catch more of the breeze and has the loudest voice. The three or four smaller, 75foot Gums are a chorus. It’s hard to identify one from the other, but together, you can hear tham over The Big Gum.

The weedy camphor laurels and broad leafs, and flowering berry bushes live down low, in comparison to the Gums. Some up to 50foot high, but dwarfs in comparison to the height and noise of the Gums.

The resident Plovers are quiet. No bird life appears to be active. Maybe there is a blow-a-coming. If on the water, I’d be able to see the horizon. Here in a small valley in a larger valley, I can hear and smell the wind but cannot see the horizon.

Knowing if a storm is going to fall on you is very important. As a SeaFarer, I learned much about the weather, and sometimes saw and understood the signs and signals and omens, and got it right. Made the right judgement about travel on the ocean. Some times I got it way, way wrong.

When I say “Seafarer”, I by no means imply “Sailor”. I am a put-put SeaFarer. I prefer a good sized “stinkpot” to a decent “sailer” any day. The only thing better than a well serviced and dependable engine on your boat is… TWO well serviced and dependable engines on your boat.

I hear the rumble of thunder. The wind just died down and the temps and humidity is going up. The front of the storm cell is gathering strength. The sky is still blue but the cloud cover is thickening. The storm is being blown in over the ridges to the west. Dry, hot air from the inland region is spilling over the range and falling onto the cooler, more humid air along the coast… Temps falling now. The bird life just came back and is making a bit of a ruckus as the weather blows down upon us.

The first big rumbles from the clouds overhead. A quickening of wind, the trees are all very noisy and the wind chimes act as an alarm. It’s going to blow.

One of the neat things about being in a little valley within a larger valley is that weather often blows right over us. Heaps of rain and wind and hail and brimstone, but not here. A few years back as one of the cyclones raged, the boys and I sat in the heated pool and enjoyed the power of the weather.

If I owned a boat right now I’d be a bit nervous. But my bikes and cars are under cover. A bit of rain will be good.

First drops falling. Gotta move…

The smell of a weather event is always special. The smell of rain. The smell of ionised air.

I’m in the shed. Stayed out as long as I could. The sky is crackling and the rains begins in earnest. The shed makes loud vibratory sounds. Many pieces of flashing and moulding moved by the wind to create a momentary melody. Like the rain on the tin roof… I always think of rain as “dancing” on my roof.

We’re on the fringes of this storm cell. Wind just changed directions. Big rain drops. Could become hail… But I hear it moving away. We just caught the fringes of the Storm.

Do I smell a storm brewing in the USofA? Do I smell a storm brewing in the USofA?

I definitely perceive a deep sense of angst and discontentment in the USofA. I sense confusion and fear. And I see a high level of manipulation. Agendas are transparent as facts are ignored and rhetorical emotion wins debates. Crushes any dissenting voice.

I could wax poetically about the history of political science. Noting that all political ideals are science experiments. Democracy in its many shapes and sizes is indeed a Political Science lab experiment. As is Socialism, and Hereditary Empires.

A bit of hail just fell…

That was cool. Gone that fast. Which is good. I do though think somewhere near by took a hammering.

Always good when there is a big storm cell in the vicinity and it misses your location.

Good luck next week in the USofA…

Smilez

In one week we will be, The USofA will be, shaking like a dawg shitting razor blades.

Or such is my prediction.

I know I don’t use a “soft” analogy, but the idea of the contractions and convulsions and confusion that will taking place in one week… A dawg shitting razor blades may well be appropriate.

I heard this saying from a rather irreverent Aussie friend many, many years ago. We were discussing a bout of malaria, said friend, had gone through. His description of the shakes that rack you, the fever fed chills, that terrible, bone aching, jaw clenching shivering that one finds in malarial delirium’s… “Shaking Like A Dawg Shitting RAZOR BLADES” was apt then, and applies well now.

It’s Wednesday morning here. We’ve had some very good rains over the past few days. The earth is hapi, the air is clean, flora and fauna are bursting into a promising summer.

I listen to the hype and hysteria taking place in the USofA… I feel the pointy-end of disapproval of people I hold dear, as they loose their mind over the general bullshit of it all. The hysterical response(s) are sad, undignified, and programmed. All part of the old-divide-and-rule tactics. Create a Boogie-Man big enough to keep the masses occupied so the Elites can do as they wish. Squash all dissenting verbiage.

One thing I can say “thank you” to the Trump- Administration for… the clear exposure of the crass, blatant, uncaring double standards of the Elite v The Masses. Yet the electorate is blind, too blind to see, see through the smoke and mirrors.

For fuck’s-sake folks… you really think A Politician can go Socialist, offer free everything, remove our conventional sources of energy without sound substitutes… and not tax you to death? Not confiscate all and everything you call your-own, redistribute it publicly, keeping the very best for themselves.?? You really think that socialism as a system that can actually work for you? After over 100years of testing, with zero success, you believe, still, that Socialism has a chance in hell of being a replacement that you would vote-in, because its a better system than the one we have????

The checks and balances as developed by the Original Framers have stood many tests. the SCOTUS, the Electoral College, The Presidency itself… I have implicit faith in the system, in the Constitution… but not the Electorate.

The Electorate has gotten lazy. They have forgotten how to think for themselves. Even with all the information the world possesses in the palm of their hand, they consume pulp and expel ignorance in a collective sense. The Orwellian echo chamber of mutually held falsehoods creates a hollow man.

Side line… My serial immigration habits have once again been successful. Grace and I recently received our Permanent Residence here in Aus. In 12 months we will be eligible to claim citizenship. It took almost a decade, cost huge money, and is insanely valuable. As the world changes, as the old standards are upset, as boarders fall and refugees and carpet baggers alike clamour for safe haven… I’m very pleased, very proud to be able to claim that I am now permanently an Aussie.

And the beat goez on…

big smilez all around

Bro,
OK, been busy…. bizzy… life cranks while I wanks… I’m sitting at the table at the back of the house. 4pm my time, a variety of bird activity going on around me. We have nesting plovers right by the pool, Butcher Pieds trying to rear babies on the window sill at the front of the house. It is all a sign of encroachment, but also a sign that we get along well with the birds… they are comfortable living in close proximity to us… We’re generous with our space and encourage the bird life… and the foxes, and snakes, and lizards. not so much spiders. They’re sneaky fucks.
I’m writing this out back of the house. It is a pleasant time of day. The air is cool, the surroundings green and the end day routines of life are in full swing.
I am going to a) send This it to you, because I am writing it to you and responding to some of our recent SMS discussions, but b) blog it. It’ll be a blog-worthy discussion…
Two White Ibis peck the lawn around the plover nest. I think they’re looking for a chance to rush the nest and steal an egg. All birds lie, are crafty. The other day I found a dry, half egg shell, about the size of a big marble. Did not know what bird it came from but something had that egg, et what was inside and left detritus behind.
Wrestling and the meaning of life… your quote… “ … And wrestlers learn to grind early on or they quit.”… Indeed, An important point in life. Maybe an allegory of note herein, somewhere… Pussies quit… Your quote… “Too many pussies in the world.”… thus, ergo, if you don’t quit you are by nature a wrestler. And I really like that concept. I’m glad I’m a Rassler.
Spoke to a good friend recently who told me of a bout with depression that required a call to LIFE-LINE”. Which is great that life-line is there, but rather telling about our world and the stresses on us. My friend I speak of is tough. Tough as… But at times all of us stop being tough and TAP-OUT. Or ask for help. Anyone reading this, if you ever need to talk, give me a call.
Speaking of UFC… your words… “ The way Gaethje dismantled Ferguson showed this kid is legit. Everything else is side show.”… You got it! Spot on. It can be pay-to-see blood-sport or it is can be Blood-Sport. Big difference. If it ain’t legit, it is indeed a sideshow.
I have written before of UFC becoming a SideShow. I specifically reference the UFC 200 where Leznar, all juiced up, got to win against Mark Hunt. That was a SIDEshow.
Cognitive dissonance… Is real. Is a problem. Similar but different to Confusing Cacophony. I see it as signal interference. A bent antenna can cause static interference.
If the Magnetic-Mary on your dash board causes your radio to buzz… it gotta go…
Remember the song, “Plastic Jesus”…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q-JxnK4GKhA
… “..Magnetic Mary gotta go, she’s fucking up my radio… riding on the dashboard of my car…”…
I dont care if it rains or freezes… because I live in the tropics… If it snowed here we’d be in grief. Things are not built for it. If a heavy snow fall, the roofs would collapse.
OK, Onto voting….
My ol Compadre, Ken TW Holmes, has the coolest Political bumper sticker I have ever seen…. I VOTE LIBRARIAN… Ken is a professional librarian. So ultra way cool to be Ken TW.
We live in the time of information megaoverlaod. Hunter S. wrote about “A Generation of Swine”…
https://www.booktopia.com.au/generation-of-swine-hunter-s-thompson/book/9780743250443.html
Walter Concrete and his buds are long gone. Grace and I just discussing it this afternoon… it’s ENTERTAINMENT, it’s RATINGS… Not really about News…
That why I call it The NeWz.
Or The BlueZ….
SMiles all around

I very recently learned that my very dear friend, Peter Kavanga, passed away.

I am not sure where or when but I see through second hand FB posts that the planet has lost a very good, wise, important human being.

I met Peter in the late 90s. Gracie had “found” him through a friend. Peter was a traditional healer with a very impressive reputation.

At that time I was suffering from severe sciatica. I was in a bad way, had been dragging a leg, and moaning when moving for a while. At times it was debilitating. I’d been to doctors, seen numerous massage therapists… was dragging my leg behind me and living with a load of pain.

When I went to meet Peter for the first time it was a very professional consultation. I told him about my problems, he asked a lot of questions. He asked for and received notes from past medical visits. When all done he accepted me into his care, sated that he could help me, and said to me, “…be prepared to bury yourself in pain…”.

Twice a day for 5 days running. 2to3hours each session. He’d use his fingers, which I do believe could crack walnuts, to loosen all my joins and ligaments and muscles. He did bruise me more than once. He went very deep. Terribly deep.

And all the while, I’d be moaning and groaning and at times screaming, he’d be chuckling or chatting.

The first 5days went well and I honestly got my leg back. It did not happen overnight, and the pain was real, but I got my body back.

That was in late 1999 and into early 2000. And I never ceased to allow Peter to keep me healthy. At one stage I employed him as my Major Domo, and went home daily for afternoon beating, ah, massage sessions.

My entire family relied on him to keep us healthy and hapi. He could fix injuries, assist with chronic issues, set bones, and make you scream… or was it a howl… we called it “Peter’s Wolf Pack Skool of massage”… Aaauuuwoooooooohhhh…..

I last saw him a few years back, in 2016. After a neardeath motorcycle mishap I ended up with a severely damaged shoulder joint. It was then I underwent one week of daily therapy / beatings from both Peter and Ruatau Perez. That was mainly for my buggered shoulder. But of course all problems manifest throughout the body so the daily sessions, both morning asd afternoon, were intense. And did some good… But even the best cannot fix that which cannot be repaired.

I had my shoulder replaced last year. Have not been back to the Solomons since February 2019. Had not seen Peter for way too long.

A few weeks back I asked my Daughter to see if he was around. To give him some money, pass on my very best regards.

Not To Be…

Sadly Not To Be.

It was an absolute honour to have walked in this man’s Shadow.

Hugg those near

Smilez all around

Or is it Emigration?

What is difference between immigration and emigration?

Emigration is the act of leaving a resident country or place of residence with the intent to settle elsewhere (to permanently leave a country).

Conversely, immigration describes the movement of people into one country from another (to permanently move to a country).

I am a serial Emigrant… I confess… I left the country of my youthful residence and settled in the Solomon Islands. The important word here is “permanently”. I left Iowa in January of 1981. Never returned, permanently. I received my Solomon Island Citizenship in 2007.

I never really planned or prepared for retirement/ old-age, but it did come and I found myself “retiring to Australia”. I have been a legal resident here for 4years. Grace had been a legal resident (as caregiver to two grandsons in school) since 2010. In 2016 I received a limited Residence in Aus as a retired old fart. I was and have been allowed to live, come and go, invest, and enjoy that which Aus has to offer. I could not though ever become a dependant of the Common Wealth. I had to pay my own way.

We were required to pay some very hefty fees, buy expensive insurance, and place a huge bond. All just for the privilege to live here in Australia. The retirement visa required renewal every 4years. You had to pass the acceptance tests every 4years. And pay the fees…

Immigration is, understandably, a very long, drawn out, frustrating and exceedingly costly process. Checks and controls are important, when the “Residence” is valuable. A Citizen has every right in his/ her home land. A Resident will have some rights but controls and prerequisites stay in place. Your residency can be revoked. Not so your Citizenship.

Why do folks pick up and Emigrate? Leave that which is known, not knowing when or if you shall return. Language, food, currency, legal systems, support systems shall be different, shall be challenging.

Sometimes for Adventure. Sometimes for Love. Sometimes for socio-political reasons. Often because of drought, famine, pestilence, war, et al.

Sometimes by mistake, misfortune and sometimes, damned good luck…

The winter of 1979/1980, I was going no where. In and out of school, choosing to do courses that had nothing to do with my declared Major. Playing the long forgotten game of “dropping in”. Attending lessons you were not enrolled in because you’d heard the lecturer was good or the subject matter interesting. Deciding to go on long hitch-hike trips… skipping exams… A lot of time wasting.

Then… equivalent to “living in your parents basement”, but mine was ‘living in granny’s trailer-home”. Working seasonal jobs, not willing to do another “winter on unemployment benefits”. Hanging out with the same people I’d been hanging out with for too long…

I managed to “Get-Out” by becoming a Peace Corps Volunteer. I applied and they took me. Gave me a job in Solomon Islands.

Pure, unadulterated, damned good luck.

I’d rather be lucky than good looking…

I chose to be an Emigrant. Not that it was panned, maybe preordained, but I never planned much when I was young… but, I never returned, permanently, to the US, or Iowa. I sold my Triumph for 500bucks. It was all conscience. I chose to build my future in The Solomons. I Emigrated…

Peace Corps… suppose to be a 2year gig. In and out, then back to my ‘71 oil-in-frame Triumph. That wuz deplan…

“Life is what happens when you’re making other plans”

And now, here in Aus, I have emigrated yet again.

Grace and I were granted Permanent Resident status on Thursday. It’s been a long, costly exercise with never, ever a guaranteed outcome. You can spend heaps of time and $$$ only to be refused. It’s the way it is.

But we jumped through every required hoop, like good poodles, paid the fees and ancillary costs, AND are now hapi Permeant Residents in the fine and hapi Land of Aus,

And the beat goez on… Angelo’s 18th Bday this eve… DJ Sasquatch set up and cranking…

Smilez

It’s musta been/ musta be the ol Skool catholic upraising. The ol Skool, three-generations-under-one-roof, sorta thing… I’m over 60 and still raising teen-angers. In fact, I still have toddlers under feet. Well, not really, in the common sense of “toddler” as a descriptive… My “toddlers” are more like feral cats. or, perhaps I’m giving feral cats a bad name here… maybe more like articulate wild rodents?

I had a 5yrold attempt to ride my Segway 4×4 death machine off a 2’high retaining wall. She’s very good at controlling the Segway, normally… but today she came undone. The Segway is a big, heavy machine. And it can scoot well. It is dangerous. Can be dangerous.

Its difficult to get little kids on the machines safely… they can go fast but they cant figger out the stopping side of things very easily. The term “whiskey throttle” comes to mind.

Had a group of two-wheeled novices around yesterday, and we roared and scooted and vroomed and growled all afternoon. It was great fun.

Had one great case of whiskey throttle when Miller took off too hot for his first ever two wheeled vroom run. He did not come undone, but was a classic damn-near-dead run that left us all laughing.

I very much enjoy the “visitors”. Enjoy the hell outta getting moms and kids and dads and aunties on the bikes and on the Segway and out in the back40 tempting the gods of injury and death…

Well, not really injury and death.

I had 3yr+10 month old, Nova, on the Segway with me, scooting across the yard as a couple other machines wizzed and whined along… Nova is hollering “faster, go faster” …

I had to laugh when I was trying to teach Jemma Ferris, 15yrsold, to control the clutch on the 150cc Honda. She’s a good learner but struggling to “ride” the bike… she couldn’t maintain balance enough to get a good run going. So I asked her, “can you ride a bicycle?”, and she answers, “not real well.”… which means to me, “NO”. Means I’m taking a kid who does not ride a standard bicycle, putting her on a 25hp dirt bike, and expecting a hapi ending…

Makes sense to me!

Some pictures of the past few weeks of fun and trials and tribulations… kids go back to Skool in the morn…

So, as Monday here grows warm. As the teens all sleep their all-night movie festival off. The skies are blue, the air is clean, a light breeze shakes the orchids outside the door… The newz… the blewz…. Monday morn so Sunday afternoon/ eve US-time… Only a few weeks before the next test of the system that is the USofA…

I’m getting a bit tired of the stupid double standards we see in the world-wide media… It’s ok, fine, acceptable, even commendable… to wish the POTUS a miserable and pain filled death due to Kung Flu… But you cant say a single word about Mohammad liking camels. Witch-from-hell Pelosi and Chuckles Schumer can play politics with the citizens of the state’s well being, eat boutique ice cream and act like impotent people, as Cali burns. The Republicans are to blame for no getting the recent “bailout-bill” voted on, because they don’t agree with about 1trillion in good ol fashioned pork-barrel-politics.

Quite franking I think that California/ the west coast as a whole, is preparing to take-on third-world status. No power, no water, no law and order… but heaps of good ganja… sound familiar?

I also enjoy/ am perturbed by (speaking of double standards) the spin and negativity the loony liberal left are taking more and more often… I speak of the tendency for the LLLeft accuse everyone and all on their shit-list of doing the heinous and despicable things they do/ have done… TRUMP WILL REFUSE TO ADMIT DEFEAT… Sounds like the Dems in 2016 to me… TRUMP AND FAMILY ARE ONLY THERE TO LINE THEIR POCKETS… duh!… “YOU’RE A LIAR, MAN”… duh, again…

Make no doubt about it… all politicians are cut from the same cloth.

It is policies/ POLICIES… that are important. Sadly though, it is the personality’s, PERSONALITY’S that become the sugar for the flies.

Side thoughts without hard facts… Two things Ive been looking at in a soft kinda way… 1) Deaths overall 2020 to 2019 – and 2) New registrations of voters by party 2020…

And the beat goes on…

More later

It’s “the day after”. The day after The Debate Debacle.

The Debate Debacle that showed all very clearly that the political scene is ALL about personalities and NOT policies.

Joe either acted like he never knew, or he simply forgot what is published in the DNC Policy Papers. No green new deal, and Antifa is an idea… not true on either account.

TheDonald acts like he’s not used to sharing the stage… No catchy slogans, or micro-messages of meaning.

I do believe he should have let Biden talk himself in circles… Hunter Biden was dishonourably discharged from the USNavy for failing a drug test. Hunter has had a long history of drug abuse. His daddy got him a commission in the USN late in life and he failed to last 1 year… FACT. This alone was enough lever for Trump to pommel Biden, but he let it slip past.

Of course the fact that Biden lasted the duration of the debacle means he won.

So forget about policy! Listen to the lies and the BS. Then choose the personality you like best.

A sad way to run a Democracy, but that’s the way it is in my mind.

And the beat goez on

More later

It’s 1012am, 30th of the ninth. It’s the day the world stands still.

The day TheDonald and SleepyJoe debate.

DEBATE

I need to get prepared to discuss the event of the night, the event of my morning here, as it transpires. As it all goes down, all 90 minutes, all hour and a half. I suspect it’ll be quite a show. Quite an instructional interlude in this season of silliness, in this, the 2020 Political Cycle.

I have been sitting and listening to people on both sides of the political divide… listening to people spew their emotion and ignorance, listen to people speak of fears and concern, listening to people be fucking brain dead as they ignore blatant the truths and adopt a posture of complete passivity as their town, streets, states and nation is set alight.

Of course, I am beaten up, abused and demeaned and diminished for be centrist position. For pointing out the obvious from a non-biased position. Thats what a centrist is… its a position from the middle. A position from the place of no hidden agenda. It’s is the position I have held for most of my adult life.

But it ain’t good enough for some. No! I guess its a “bird of a feather” type of deal. If you don’t tweet the same tune you ain’t invited into the nest. Dissent is unwelcome. Questions are outlawed. A line between the two main factions is well established. It shows the intolerance and emotion involved.

Folks may wonder when and where and how I gained any knowledge of national politics, or economic management or bipartisan cooperation and interaction… 10years ago I was Chair of the Solomons Chamber of Commerce. I led the Chamber into a new role as a fully fledged member of the tripartite system of modern government. I established the Chamber as a solid member of the Governing position in the nation, at that time. It was something I had to fight and advocate for. It was not easy nor was it welcomed by all.

Any government or nation has three main partners at play in the decisions being made: 1) The Government acts as a regulator, a service provider and an internationally recognised arbiter for all citizens. 2) The Trade Unions represent the workers, arbitrate and bargain on a collective basis and work to ensure a fair and nonpartisan commercial system. 3) The Employers are a trade union unto themselves, and if left unchecked they can unbalance all. Thus a strong union of employers, like the Solomon Island Chamber of Commerce and Industries, makes the three-pegged stool balanced and useful.

The tripartite system I describe works well if managed well. If the Gov is too heavy handed, or the Unions too militant, or the Employers too full fo themselves, things are not copacetic.

I managed for quite some years to maintain and honest centrist position within the Solomons. Calling foul where I thought required, writing weekly blurbs for the Solomon Star, sitting on committees in the SIG, fighting for less corruption in the SIG, noting only too well many businesses prefer a corrupt system to a system that is faithful to the established processes. I did not do it all to make friends. I did it because I knew it was needed and was willing to expose myself to the fallout that could, and did come.

Of course, corruption is real and very powerful. Government officials are well positioned to line their pockets, as are business houses how dodge taxes or tariffs. And of course, Union Officials are very well positioned to put their personal needs and wants above that of those they represent.

The USofA (like most nations) has fostered a system of Corrupt Elitism within their political system for a long, long time. Two sets of rules do exist. Recent events, noting the University Admissions Scandal, the Obama/Clinton/Comey/Russian Scandal, and many elitist driven “paytoplay” scenarios including but not limited to the Clinton and Biden Family biz of selling influence for cash.

Side thought: Obama was a Law Professor in 2005, made 85,000pa. He entered politics, and is worth 40million today. Go on, tell me politics ain’t corrupt.

The Clintons as a team are worth 140million. They’ve been at it longer than The Obamas’.

I am rambling… Ranting perhaps? As I sit, watching the TV as the debate kicks off… Like a good fight, the walk-ins, the announcements are important.

More later

The timing could not have been more poetic. A very short few weeks before The General Election. About four months before the El Presidente’, whom ever it may be, is sworn in. And, very importantly, four years since a very similar situation transpired…

And that drama lasted almost the entire year… From February 2016 to 3 January 2017, Merrill Garland’s nomination expired when the 114th Congress ended. It was a huge battle.

There was much discussion and controversy. The Republican Majority simply refused to consider the nomination. Legal actions were taken but were not effective. In November 2017 a law suit seeking to compel a vote was thrown out of the court.

From a political point of view the Democrat Establishment really fucked up badly. If RBG had retired her seat earlier, Obama could have replaced her. As it was, after the death of Justice Scalia, the Democrat-Machine lost that battle, AND, NOW, They’ve lost Bader-Ginsburg’s seat.

I hear a lot of discussion and a whole lot of noise about the hows and whys of El Presidente’ Trump’s position and ability to make an appointment. It is fun to watch the Democrat side melt down, say the exact opposite of what they were saying four years ago. But most of what is being said, quietly or loudly, does not apply here and now.

Four year’s ago, Obama’s two-term tenure of the Oval Office was coming to an end. He was not going to be President in 2017. It was Hillary v TheDonald and it was a winner take all contest.

This year we have the incumbent president v an opponent. The Donald is president until January. And I am certain this is a moment where he is glad his party holds sway in the Senate. It could be different.

FYI:

Supreme Court justices, court of appeals judges, and district court judges are nominated by the President and confirmed by the United States Senate, as stated in the Constitution. 

The names of potential nominees are often recommended by senators or sometimes by members of the House who are of the President’s political party. The Senate Judiciary Committee typically conducts confirmation hearings for each nominee. Article III of the Constitution states that these judicial officers are appointed for a life term.

The Constitution sets forth no specific requirements for judges. However, members of Congress, who typically recommend potential nominees, and the Department of Justice, which reviews nominees’ qualifications, have developed their own informal criteria.

https://www.uscourts.gov/file/21619/download

So, without a doubt, the appointment of Justices is a political “thing”.

And my prediction is that TheDonald will get an unprecedented 3 Supreme Court appointments in his first term in Office.

Smiles all around

The passing of the most amazing woman, Ruth Baxter-Ginsburg, has prompted me to consider…

Start here… https://www.supremecourt.gov/about/biographies.

So, we have in the USSC… six men and three women. Of the men four appear to “white”, one ain’t white, and one, Alito, I guess to be of Mediterranean descent. Of the women we offer a (recently deceased) self proclaimed, Jewish Grandmother, A Hispanic Grandmother and Elena Kagan,

And you’re still going to try spinning the “Systemic Racism” bullshit?

Don’t fly.

Why didn’t I think of this before?

Smiles

Thinking about dogs.

Or, as I would say it, “Dawgs”. 

Dawgs’ are important to mankind. Your hand on a Dawg lowers your blood pressure.

Three Dawg Night.

To Build a Fire.

Human Erectus and Canis Lupas… what a magical union.

And such great movies… Old Yeller. A Long Way Home. Hiatchi. A good Dawg movie will make you cry.

Dawg and Man… Perhaps of such, monumental proportion that – without Human Erectis- Canis would be much better off. But he chose to be faithful. To share the fire. And with Canis by his side, Human was a force to be reckoned with.

Dawgs are noble and true. Some have a thievery-streak. Some are lazy. Some hyper… but man and dawg, what a partnership!

It must have been a terribly cold night, the worse night in generations, that drove Canis to Human’s fire. And after uncountable generations, we’re still a winning team. 

I have soooo mannny dawg-tales… Let’s starts at the middle-early-beginning:

I was quite young. Maybe 4-5yrsold. I recall a fourth of July celebration on the farm where we lived south of Knoxville, Iowa. I have vivid images… Fireworks, bbqs’, lots of people. Bottles of cola cola. Fresh, crank-made ice cream by the gallons. A long weekend of excitement and marvels for a young child. 

There I was… The back stoop of the small white Farm-House… My Father and other males, I recall my favoured uncle, Jimmy, sitting by back door, near the large earthen mound that was the “root-cellar”.  The two-hole “long-drop” out by the clothesline. A large steel bell with a huge clapper hung from the clothesline-pole, near the two-holer. It was an old farm. Big front lawn. My family rented the house and the farmer/ owner managed the farm. 

It must have been a long weekend. Celebrations had been ongoing and everyone was relaxed. It was the decompression side of the weekend… Things were almost over. Everyone was hapi. Relaxed.

The Men are smoking, sitting on beer crates. Talking in low tones. 

A couple of mongrel dogs that belonged to the farm, sunning themselves on the walk way. 

I sat near. 

Listening to the cadence of the speech. Not fully understanding but enjoying the sensation of listening to these men, as they smoked. I enjoyed the smell of thier tobacco. So did the dogs… The dawgs were my friends. We spent a lot of time together. 

I recall Jimmy picking up a dog near him and holding his ear open. My father, without a word, stuck a match and burnt a tick. Jimmy turned the dog a bit more, a few more ticks were summarily incinerated by a succession of Ohio Blue Tips.

I was fascinated. Another Man had grabbed another dog and as the first de-ticked Canis ran off whimpering, more matches and more ticks were used and abused. 

I elbowed in as only a child can do. I got close. Watched the sizzling ticks. Saw the dogs squirm and fight, ineffectively, as a parasite was burnt from their skin.

That’s when Jimmy grabbed me. He held me across his knee as my father sizzled ticks in both my ears. I do believe I had more ticks than the Dawgs.

When Jimmy’s grip relaxed, I scurried away, whimpering, to where the dogs were. Under the close line. 

We sat there, the dawgs and I, licking our wounds. Staring warily toward the men and their cigarette smoke. Wondering what we had done wrong to be so sorely treated.

Big Smiles…

Sunday morn here in Queensland, 13^th day of ninth month. It is raining, a slow, hapi, fun filled, constant, light misting. 

A crippled “Pied Butcher Bird” forages outside my window. I say crippled because this bird is noticeably favouring one leg. Like a sailor of old on a peg-leg, this bird has an uneven gait, its left leg only a pivot for the right. I see this bird daily. I’ll name it “Pirate” from here on out.

Fun how you can get to know the different creatures from the wild that share our immediate worlds… Our resident “Masked Lapwing Plovers” are old friends. I call them Elvis and Pricilla. Plovers generally are alarmist, they make a lot of noise when not hapi. People here have a fear of them because they can swoop on you, which is scary, and they squawk as they fly straight at you. Quite unnerving, but contrary to popular belief I have never found that they will attack, like magpies do. (magpies can be very frightening, and for good reason. They are evil.)

After a few years of interaction, our residents Plovers no longer resent our presence. We’ve come to accept each other and no longer fight or scream or complain.

Of course, we have a long running feud with the swamp hens and turkeys. There are a number of them thriving in the back-40. Growing root crops can be a problem with them around. We are preparing to move the main root-crop garden because we can’t win against them. We’ll tap-out and bring the garden closer to the house. Kumara and cassava and taro are swamp hen delicacies.

One positive from the Kung Flu foolishness is that UFC was a decent fightcard on every Sunday morn here. Saturday eve Vegas-Time, so I get to wake up, wrap in my granny-blanket and watch hours of bloodsport. And on a rainy morn like today, nothing could be better… fresh coffee, a warm grannyblanket, and two muscley babes beating the shit outta each other. Ol-fart heaven, me thinks. 

The past week has had me re-evaluating something I’ve been thinking and saying… 

The US cities that have been seeing so much “Peaceful Protesting” and not so much positive leadership or practical policing are “Democrat Run”, meaning the elected leadership in these cities are Democrat and as such have been the problem, the weakness, responsible for the lack of control and effective management. Thus, they carry the blame for all and everything…  

Let’s look at the flavour of the various cities in the USA…

https://ballotpedia.org/Largest_cities_in_the_United_States_by_population

I have now rethought this… For some strange reason I was willing to “blame” the mismanagement of the various rape and pillage scenarios on the Elected Leaders. Where in fact, the responsibility leis firmly with the Electorate. The Electorate that put these inept fools in office. 

It’s is not the Looney Liberal Leftist leaders, but rather the looney leftist electorate that bears the burden of responsibility herein.

We all know that there is a certain ilk of politician that will say and do anything to get elected. We see this phenomenon daily on our current political cycle… Crazy Uncle Joe Biden is a prime example… how many times can he or will he change his spots to suit the Electorate? Of course, a rhetorical question, because we are a couple months out from the next election and Joe has plenty of time to swap and flop a lot more…

And we find this in all political setups… Democrat, Republican, Independent, Labour, Liberal, Green… all political parties offer succour to spinless wanna-bes who will sing any tune to get a pocket filled with booty.

I do sound jaded. But I am tired of the BULLSHIT. He mindless mooing that comes from a distracted herd. I am jaded when we see/ find that the puppet masters play elitist games, and its OK. As Cohen scams with Cuomo, as fires burn and power grids fail, as evidence is intentfully destroyed, and any positive sense of cooperation and contribution falls by the dusty, bloody road side….

And the beat goes on… 

It’s September. That lovely, sorta in the middle, month… in the middle of seasonal change. In the middle of the last half of the year. In the middle of the “go back to school”, and right in the middle of prepare for Halloween.

Halloween is my favourite holiday.

Ive been real bizzy lately. Not enough time to watch and listen and respond to the various world wide news cycles… One way cool bit of news is this:

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-54004695https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-54004695

I am watching and listening this morn as Democrat elected officials are getting into hot water for being caught… WitchFromHell Pelosi in the beauty Parlor, Portland Mayor, Wheeler, moving due to the thugs he has been praising attacking him in his home, Lori Leftfoot in Chi_town.. her hypocrisy(s) is too great to list herein. The DC Mayor finally figuring out it ain’t all going in her favour, as the Kenosha people welcome help, even as the officials claim they dont need any.

So, we have unrest, a possible non-opening of schools, The Kung Flu, AND… we are haggling over the names of buildings and the statues that have been standing for ages. Does nay one else see poorly arranged prestidigitation?

It’s a farce. A tragi-comedy in the old, old sense.

And Pelosi says she was “set up”.

I recall that’s what De Lorena said when he got busted.

Smiles.

More later…

I have never been afraid of the dark. I teach my children and grandchildren that there is nothing in the dark to be fearful of. I was taught by a wolf I shared space with in the 1970s how to see in the dark. I pass the lesson onto my kids and grannies.

I do not live in a racist world.

I am not a racist.

I know racism is alive and well. I have met racism face to face many times. It is very ugly.

But I sit and watch as the modern US0fA is constructing a racist environment, a racist dialogue, a racist mindset. Either you are a victim or a perpetrator. Everyone is a racist. Everyone is buying into the concept of a racist world.

Im trying to figure it out. Why the need to stand up and apologise for being white… “My name is Mike and I’m a racist”. “I apologise publicly for my sins as a racist and for the sins of my fathers”.

Utter fucking bullshit!

And everyone is trying to out apologise for presumed and supposed transgressions. We post foolish memes that say nothing but gain the applause of the apologist and victim filled vanguard.

I do not live in a racist world. We know racism exists. We have seen racism face to face. But the ugliness of racism is something I cannot accept.

I cannot accept the racists badgering me into accepting their interpretation of my world. Sure, go ahead, go right ahead and accept racism in your world. Teach your children to be racists, apologists, victims, lackys to the negative status quo. Be my guest, go right ahead.

I refuse.

More later

Big smiles

I’m getting pissed off by the very ignorant use of the word racism or racist.

I’m not going to go to Webster to make my case, I don’t need to. I know what racism is. I know a racist when I see one, hear one. They can’t run. They can’t hide. Unless the water is muddied, and everyone, EVERYONE, becomes a racist.

And it pisses me off.

I have written much about my life and multiple moments of being what I call “Profiled”, or “Diminished”.

If its important to really, honestly know who the racists are, we need to agree on what it is we discuss…

My last moment of being diminished was not that long ago. My last trip to the USA, September 2018. I was moving out of our nice apartment in the Paseo district of Pasadena, CA. We’d kept an apartment there for ages, were finally letting it go.

I was getting rid of my Thruxton, and sending my Honda custom to be shipped to Australia. Both bikes were in the basement. I could ride the Thruxton up but needed help to push the Honda up. It had a dead battery. I’d enlisted my ol bud SCarpy to help me out, he has a van, built the custom and would prepare it to be shipped out. Payment for all was my Thruxton.

So I’m on Cordova and Olive, a busy side of town, 10 – 11am, plenty of traffic. I’m leaning on the corner of the building looking out for SCarpy. He’d called, but was on Cordova St in Altadena, not Pasadena. So I’m hangn’ on there corner, looking out for a white van. A cop drives by.

He looked the other way so I knew he’d sussed me.

I’m dressed in my steel toe work boots, a pair of khaki shorts and a simple sleeveless T. I am inked from neck to wrist, chest and back and legs. You can’t NOT notice my ink. I don’t cut my hair, tho many people think I should. I don’t claim to be “pretty”.

What does the cop see? You tell me. Tattoos and black boots and long hair….And he sees me seeing him, seeing me. We had both “pinged” each other.

Same cop drives by again, on my side of the street. He really looks me up and down. Not hiding it. I don’t acknowledge but do watch, and he knows I am watching.

But I stay on the corner. I’m waiting fo SCarpy… I’m not doing anything wrong, just hanging out… waiting…

Same cop, down from Arroyo Ave side, in the middle lane, blinker on, he’s going to come talk me. He does the turn and then a UTurn on Olive, parks right by the fire hydrant on the corner. As he gets out of his car, with my hands well away from my body, I say “Good morning, I’m Mike, how are you?”. And I smile.

He’s up and out of his car, sizes me up, notes I am more of an old fart than a threat, asks for ID and we part as friends.

It could have all been very different.

I was in PNG on business. PNG is a tough place. We were out, too late. Playing too much, having too much fun.

I don’t know Moresby well so can’t really describe where it happened but Morseby does have some decent highways.

We’re motoring along the highway from the downtown area to one of the suburbs. Just came off the on-ramp onto the main, and pretty busy motorway, a big Land Rover came screaming up on us and damn near killed us forcing us off the road. My buddy, Collin was a drunk as I and I really didn’t notice much until he hollered, hit his brakes and swerved violently away from the nose of the Rover.

Uniforms with pump shotguns pile out of the Rover, and we are pretty well roughed up and frightened before they, the local police, decided we were not their prey. But in the 90 seconds it took for us to not pose a threat to them and them to realise were were no threat, both Collin and I were very near death.

The police with the guns were not white.

Side line… it turned out that the car Collin was driving was a rental and an identical car from the same rental company had been used in a very violent crime. The cops were amped because people had been ruthlessly murdered and did not expect compliance when they stopped us. They were 1000% ready to shoot first and ask questions second.

It sobered us both up soo much we had to go to another bar and get redrunk. It was fucking scary. And we got terribly re-drunk.

In both situations I was judged and categorised on my looks, my dress, the car I was in. Both could have ended very badly.

I do not begrudge any of the Officers involved, not their thoughts, their actions, or their deeds. They were “doing their jobs”.

Were they racist? Or, closer to reality, were they Profiling me or – I like the word – “Diminishing” me?

Looking down on me. Judging me because of my hair and ink, or as in Moresby, it was gold Toyota sedans that were being “targeted” that night.

I make every effort in my life to NOT diminish/ profile others. I know it happens and I know its a required part of being human… being on the alert for threats or possible not-good situations on the horizon. Its part of our DNA.

I was walking our village the other day. I went to the post office.

Heading down the stairs, I paused as a woman slowly walked up. I know that nowadays I need a hand on a rail. I can no longer depend on my innate balance and youthful knees to keep me upright. She’s using the rail so I’ll wait for her, then descend.

I step back to my left. She is coming up, I open the door for her, We exchange honest smiles. My ink didn’t scare her. My slovenly nature did not annoy her. It was all about smiles.

And good luck…

I reckon it was the smile in Pasadena that kept me from trouble. And the fact I had nothing to hide. I had nothing to fear from the Officer.

In Moresby it was blind, drunken good luck.

And Now, The Rest Of The Story…..

I later heard from Moresby that the police found and chased the “other Golden Toyota Sedan”. They blew it off the road with shotguns. Killing all inside.

I wish we’d all cease diminishing each other.

SMiles

More later

A Wednesday morn here. The RNC is starting for us on the underside of the planet. The daily news-cycle out of the USofA is not a happy one.

I have spent the last day licking my wounds, feeling sore and sorry for myself. I spent about 30 minutes under the ink on Monday. And it fucking hurt. Ive had long sessions and return for a couple days sessions, but never had I been so terribly beaten and battered…

I know, it don’t look like much but it was way over the top of my pain threshold. As you may recall, about a year ago I had this done but it did not take. It wore off. And my ink-family decided I needed to go toe to toe with Maestro-Shane, the ink-on-palm master.

So, to keep the ink from fading, wearing off, you need to go real deep. Real, real deep. Into the deep tissue. And it hurts way, way too fucking much.

The ink session was Monday. I pretty much sat and cried all day yesterday. My hand ain’t very useful. It remains wounded. It will be a long healing process. I had thought Tu was a puss when he got his hands done. He moaned and groaned heaps. Now I think he’s a rock for doing both at the same time!

I watched the RNC kick start yesterday. Wrapped in a granny-made blanket I sat and moaned both from my hand and from the new-cycle. I’m watching day two as I type this.

As I surf the news channels on cable TV, and read the net-news, I begin to think that being a centrists is getting harder and harder. The loud and obnoxious Right-Wing factions of politics are making much more sense than the modern Liberal-Looney left. I ponder a deep question herein… was it the looney left when I was a young, long haired, army jacketed protester in the 70s? I dont think so. I think we made sense. We had the Legacy of the Kennedys and MLKing. We had fine examples and smart leaders. Something has changed. Have all my old Hippy-buds turned into Marxists?

Maybe people have gotten lazy, or worse, stupid?

I dont think people read, listen or think very well, any more.

It saddens me.

It’s getting harder and harder too remain a political centrist.

Big smiles

More later