ho, hum...


was up too late last night, up too early today and really did nothing all day but start listing stuff for sale on CraigsList. We have too much stuff... this place is starting to look like Collyer's Mansion. And, in a little while, I'm going out to hang with a friend for a while, so here's some music for a rainy night and my rainy soul...

(don't be put off by the Beach Boys tune in the middle of it all, if you're familiar with it, you know it fits right in. if you're not familiar with it, please give it your ear...).

Enjoy...


go ahead, make your day...

read it and weep...


or laugh, or puke, or whatever...


go ahead, make your day...

I think Dogette and I...


might have been separated at birth, or perhaps our test-tubes got separated in the lab, or something... Please read this, before you read what follows, ok?

I have to caution you, dearest reader, whom ever you might be, that is going to be long and strange (what isn't strange around here?), and probably boring to the point of wringing tears from your poor, strained, "why the fuck does he have white type on a black background, I can't read this shit without getting a fucking headache" eyes...
ahem...

Firstly, here is the evening's repast...



Grilled chicken breasts, grilled yellow squash and grilled potatoes, with a red lettuce salad, appointed with white onions, a really brisk cheddar, bacon, walnuts and garden fresh tomatoes...
All washed down with this...


(Less than a buck a case a Sam's Club, Bing. I have a good supply laid in, the next time I'm in your neck of the woods, I'll drop one off.).

So, where was I? Ah, yes.
I think the whole fucking problem is that I think too much. And know too much. I am lost in my time, surrounded by "smoothers", as Dogette most accurately calls them, and it frustrates the living shit out of me. I have spent my entire cognitive life learning, observing and retaining every damned thing I've experienced. And, while knowledge, in and of itself, is a wonderful thing, the most frustrating and annoying thing is that I feel that living at this level of experience has separated me from most of the other people that I am, through my own laziness, forced to spend my days with. (Please don't think I'm playing at tooting my own horn here or thinking that I'm any better than any other person, I'm not. I'm just an ordinary, run of the mill, garden variety schmo, obviously given to over using idioms, ad nauseaum...). I am the wall flower at family and social gatherings, not because I'm shy, but because I have an absurdly hard time joining in the common, every day conversations that are taking place. I don't want to talk about what quarterback signed with what team, I want to talk about why cedar, although a wonderfully great wood for use in damp situations, is not the optimum choice for making a tub wheel to run a mill. (It's pitch pine, actually, look it up. No, don't bother, take my word for it.). Do you know how to build a loom? Or hand cut dovetail joints? Or the name of the particular type of cloud that's floating over your head right now? Or when to go out in the woods and look for the shed skin of a black snake? Do you know the differences of the types of book bindings and why one is better than the other for certain size books and weights of paper? Why is the gauge of railroad tracks in the United States four feet, eight and one half inches? Is it better to make a Roman short sword out of bronze or steel? I know all these things. And what good does it do me? I learned to read at four years old. When I was seven, my parents went into hock to buy a set of World Book encyclopedias for my birthday in October. By Christmas I had read through every volume. And I bet I still can remember ninety percent of what I learned. I have spent my entire life learning and, although some would argue the point, growing. And that's the crux of the matter, me thinks. I've grown (mentally and, unfortunately, through lack of proper diet and exercise, physically...) and so, so many around me have not. And I find it so utterly frustrating that so many people I know have become mired in the world of illusions that have been thrust upon them, taking so much at face value, believing the word of the moment, playing slave to trends and, worse, becoming mired in an endless, comfortable extension of "the good old days", that they've become virtual zombies, driven by emptiness, feeding on excess, in other words, fat, dumb and lazy. It pisses me off to no end that so many don't realize how short this particular part of the journey is and get fixated with some perceived, false comfort zone, and spend their lives stuck in the past, never learning, never moving on. If you've read this ridiculous attempt at a blog for any time, you know how much I love music. I listen to everything, save disco and rap, from every period of musical history, of every genre. Music is something that I find to be quite holy and spiritually fulfilling. My musical tastes have evolved over many years to encompass so many different things that I have a hard time searching out and finding new things to listen to and yet, I am constantly surprised and inspired by what I find. And yet, I find that so many people I know are content to live in that "comfort zone" when it comes to music. They, although they are the same age as I, are stuck in some period of musical time, listening to what they did in high school or college or when ever. I try to share my music with them and they get a look on their faces like I've asked them to perform oral sex on a wet, smelly dog. The only time I can listen to and enjoy "my" music is when I'm alone. Bast knows, I savor those times. And it's an analogy for so many other things in life. The Great Unwashed, as I'm wont to call them at times, just have no clue at all. None. Zero. Nada... They're content to be led around by the ring in their nose, doing what Entertainment Tonight, People Magazine and MTV tell them that they should be doing, listening to, fawning over. They waste their time chasing material goods that, for but a moment, give them status and, with that, false satisfaction. Golden calves abound, but now they are disguised as trendy electronic devices or overpriced "designer" clothes. As long as they feel like part of the crowd, then they are relieved of the effort of thinking for themselves. They admire people that have lost all respect for themselves, seeking to emulate the emptiness they don't see. How can so many be so very, very lame? Damn. Just damn... And I'm the one, for Bast knows what reason, that wants to knock my head against the wall.
I think there should be some sort of test to grade you on your awareness and the higher you score, the more license you have to slap the living shit of people to try to wake them up. Or not. I mean, fuck 'em. Really. Are they worth all this angst and anger? I should spend the time I waste being infuriated by them doing something worthwhile. Like reading more books, listening to more music and working on some new masturbation techniques.
I'm wandering, aren't I? I've been on about all that goes on outside of me and not even touched what's going on inside of me. But I think that's for another night and another bottle or two of the grape.
I've not been as exacting or satirical as Dogette was in her post, but I hope I got at least some point across. I'll probably read this in the morning and wonder just what the hell I was on about, but, no matter.
The Land of Nod calls. I bid thee fair eve.

(please pardon any typos... my mind/hand coordination is the suck these days, too many pain killer and too much booze).

Fuck it. I was stunned awake at 2:12 this morning by a revelation which has made it all better; I think my problem is that what functioning gray matter I still have is suffering from being sloshed around in my brain box by the world suddenly speeding up and spinning out of control on it's axis because Britney Spears looks good in a bikini again, then coming to a screeching halt to catch up on the latest in the Jon and Kate Plus 8 saga, then flying out of it's usual orbit altogether, to revolve in unbridled admiration around the new sun, Barack Obama... I think that once I just fall into step with the rest of the mindless milksops and chittering twits, and go tripping blindly and blissfully ignorant through life, I'll feel just fine. Right?





go ahead, make your day...

So what..?


The swimmer went four-up. He spent his political career trying to undermine the principles and foundation of our nation and the Constitution. Pelosi calls him "a patriot", as if she even knows the meaning of the word. I wonder of Teh Øne was at his bedside? All I hope is that when he gasped out his last ever-lasting and closed his eyes, this is what he saw...






go ahead, make your day...

and for a stormy saturday night...
















and last, but, must assuredly, not least...




and on and on...


go ahead, make your day...

music for a stormy saturday afternoon...


















enjoy...


go ahead, make your day...

Chumpy* McPetrobas Hussein Obama...


So, where's the "Haliburton" type outrage from the left over this???
The Kenyan Wetback Squatter is going to pump our tax dollars into Brazil's off-shore drilling for oil and Soros just happens to have invested 811 million in Petrobas, the Brazilian oil company? What a bunch of scum sucking fucks. I can't wait until 2010.

*Notice I said "Chumpy" not "Chimpy"... Bast knows I'd be hung for being a racist if I did that. Although, "Chumpy" is actually a better fit, me thinks...


go ahead, make your day...

meanwhile, in Baghdad...


the world keeps keepin' on...






go ahead, make your day...

yeah, no shit...


another brilliant expostulation from "Taillicker Joe"...


go ahead, make your day...

leaf raking pix...


over in Tilling By Moonlight... yes, I know it's August. Tell my trees that...


go ahead, make your day...

my weekend, so far...


I chased the lawn mower around for a few hours last night when I got home from work. (I'm beginning to get good at the mowing by moonlight thing). Got up at the crack of dawn today, drove over to a friend's house to borrow my cement mixer back, then went and picked up some pallets from another fellow I know, to expand my composting system. Came home, changed, went to the Post Office, the recycling place, did the grocery shopping, hit the local farm market for some sweet corn, came home and put the food away, changed back into my play clothes and spent the last few hours doing more spackle work in the spare bedroom upstairs. After I get done boring you to tears here, I'm going to go tidy up the perennial beds and do some weeding and start making room in the little barn for the mixer and the pallets. Mrs. SOG is on the way home from her vacation, I'm planning on throwing some cheeseburgers together, with some grilled corn and a green salad, then kicking back with her for the rest of the night. It's going to be a beautiful one, maybe I'll start up a little fire in the pit and we can wile away a few hours staring at the flames, I find that to be very soothing.
Later, gators.


go ahead, make your day...

thank Bast this week is over...


I just wish I could drink. Only another week on the antibiotics, at least that's something to look forward to.
If you had a bad week, too, take a gander at this... I actually had to leave my cube and go outside until I stopped laughing this morning.



go ahead, make your day...

another beat cat checks out...




I just learned of the passing of the great avant-garde jazz drummer, Rashied Ali, who backed the great Coltrane for years, coming right on the heels of the passing of Les Paul yesterday. We've lost so many great and talented musicians in the past few years, people who influenced my musical tastes, people who I've listened to all my life, thanks to my parents, who were the ultimate music and, especially, jazz freaks. And while each passing not only leaves a bit of a hole in my life, and pokes me about the ribs about my own mortality, the most depressing thing about all these souls who have traveled on, is that no one seems to be coming forth to replace them. I'm not saying that there are no true, great talents out there, but the age of musical exploration seems to be over and the age of exploitation has taken it's place. Once jazz became mainstream and it's influence was spread into all forms of music, the age of innovation died and the innovators are passing on and, while being able to leave a legacy through the wonders of recordings, it's like the unmarried only son thing, the family name dies off, the blood line dissolves and that's that. There is no more. It's a sad commentary on the world of music and an especially sad commentary on modern life.



go ahead, make your day...

you know what's weird..?


I mean, besides anything else you might read in here... I checked out my Blogger profile, just in an off odd moment of boredom between bouts of chain smoking and thinking about jerking off, and it says that I've been blogging since 2006. I actually started in January of 2003, when Blogger was just Blogger. Before they sold out to Gaggle Google... I guess anything in the "BG" era doesn't count. Back in those days you had to pay Blogger a small monthly fee to blog so you could upload pictures and such, now all you have to do is start a blog and they monitor it for content, shut you down or report you to the Amateur In Chief's goon squad, all for free!!! Ah, progress...



go ahead, make your day...

posted without comment...




because I'm fucking speechless...
Hat tip to Rog and LindaSOG.


go ahead, make your day...

it has been brought to my attention...


that Shepard Fairey, who created the original Obama poster image that I used for my shirt design, plagiarized the image he used to create the damned thing in the first place. So, I guess Cafe Press is afraid of being taken to task for allowing me to use an already stolen image. I once again, pointed out to Cafe Press the numerous shops they host that use the design in a pro-Obama way, but have had no response as of yet.
Whatever...


go ahead, make your day...

update...


I actually received an interesting response from Cafe Press about my Helter Skelter shirt image. They have no issue with the content, and even directed me to so pretty interesting anti-Obama wear that is openly for sale in some of the shops they host, the reason they asked (and they did, indeed, ask, I reread their original email, they asked me to revisit my using the base poster design, they did not actually remove it, but just put it in a holding pattern, awaiting my response), because the guy who did the original artwork, some fellow by the name of Shepard Fairey (no comment...), who picks and chooses who to play the copyright trump card with when it comes to using his design and, understandably, Cafe Press does not want the confrontation and, frankly, neither do I. Perhaps I made a bold assumption in that, if Mr. Fairey is hanging his artwork out there, inviting you to modify it, that you can also use it for your purposes. There is no copyright warning or usage limitations statement on the web page what so ever. And, like I've stated previously, it's his work to profit by, not mine and if he doesn't want me using it, that's his right. I do find it interesting, though, that the very design is used on some pro-Obama merch, not only on Cafe Press, but Zazzle as well. Again, it's his image, so he can do or not do what he wants with it.
So, anyway, I pulled the shirt. I don't need the hassle and neither does Cafe Press.

In other news, it's been too freakin' hot to be doing much in the way of remodeling work the past few days, so I've just been kicking back after work and relaxing. Not used to that, it's starting to bug me already. I'll be back at the job tonight, I need to get this room in shape and finish the bookcase/mantle thing in the living room and then concentrate on some outside things that need to be done before the cold weather gets here, which will be sooner than you think.

Later.


go ahead, make your day...

So...


as expected, as in the past, Cafe Press has squashed my latest expression of dissent and free speech by removing my Obama "Helter Skelter" shirt from my store. Their contention is that I am in violation of copyright laws. Here is the reply I penned this morning...

The image in question was downloaded from a free web site, offering it's use for creating posters, flyers, etc., along with the ability to create captions or modifications to the image at will, so the assumption is that the owner has relinquished the copyright.
The same or similar image is currently being offered on the following Cafe Press store sites:
http://shop.cafepress.com/design/32411901
http://shop.cafepress.com/design/32412062
http://shop.cafepress.com/design/32411902
http://shop.cafepress.com/design/32544359
http://shop.cafepress.com/design/32411900
http://shop.cafepress.com/design/32412064
I'm sure there are many more, but I don't really have the time to investigate further.
I would like to know why these other images are allowed and mine is not. Is it really a matter of copyright infringement? If my assumption of it being relinquished by the owner in view of the public offering of this image for public use is misguided, I will gladly suspend it's use, as, being a Conservative, not a "Progressive", I believe in the rights of an individual or corporation to retain what they have created and profit by it and feel safe and secure that those rights and gains will not be infringed upon. However, in view of the myriad other like images offered on merchandise through Cafe Press, which are of a more "pro-Obama" bent, I have this little, gnawing feeling in my gut that there is more to this than a copyright issue.
I eagerly await your reply and will take the correct action based upon our further conversations.
Respectfully yours,
Gregor

I'll keep you posted as to how this latest battle goes.


go ahead, make your day...

call to arms...


I subscribe to the news feeds and emails from MyBarackObama.com, just fer shits and giggles... Here's a snippet of an email I got today.

As you've probably seen in the news, special interest attack groups are stirring up partisan mobs with lies about health reform, and it's getting ugly. Across the country, members of Congress who support reform are being shouted down, physically assaulted, hung in effigy, and receiving death threats. We can't let extremists hijack this debate, or confuse Congress about where the people stand.

Maybe I should go and confront my Congress critter face to face as it's suggested...
Sounds like desperation to me.

Time for a vodka on the rocks and a Camel. Man, it's hot out there. 99 by my back door thermometer, and that gets afternoon shade. Stay cool, in all ways, friends.
Later.


go ahead, make your day...

the beat goes on...


and on, and on, and on...
The Neo-Nazi boot lickers that set up the "Fight The Smears" website are now hosting "Reality Check" to spread more mis-information about the so called Health Care Reform bill, you know, the one that's just so much information that no Democrat has the time to read, but needs to be pushed through NOW at any and all costs. Yeah, that one. Lies explained with even bigger lies, by a cadre of professional liars, for the ears of the drones, who don't care about truth anyway. As King Uppity's approval ratings drop even lower than President Bush's, even at the worst, desperation is taking the form of information twisting and propaganda that would have Joseph Goebbels creaming in his Allgemeines...
Teh Øne and his merry band of minions are showing more and more of their true color every day. "Socialist", indeed... Nazis, plain and simple.




please feel free to take and share this poster...
(click it for the full size version)
also available on a t-shirt in my cafe press shop, at least until them make me stop selling them... it's happened before.
go ahead, make your day...

I guess sometimes...


the arrogant assholes forget who they work for...

As always, please feel free to report me the the Brown Shirts who lap the boots of the Kenyan Wetback Squatter in the White House...




go ahead, make your day...

go ahead, make your day...

I'm f**kin' cryin' here...



(h/t to Denny for this one!)

So fucking report me...


go ahead, make your day...

i can't wait...


till morning so I can see all the spots I missed while trying to mow some of the grounds in the dark... I guess I should have posted this in Tilling by Moonlight, since I was mowing by moonlight. And a glorious moon it is, too.
In other news, poking and prodding on Friday, blood work on Saturday and I get to have a tube shoved down my throat and up my butt in three weeks. Oh, boy, getting old is fun.



go ahead, make your day...