Homeostasis

"We had joy we had fun we had seasons in the sun, but the hills that we climbed were just seasons out of time.--if you ask yourself did the recording industry propel sentimental crap like this, the answer is yes.

I do not always follow the topic of the day, and in concurrence with Philadelphia sage Dick Polman, who has only corralled 3,279 social media accounts, which might be an indicator of public broadcasting malaise, and a very talented writer never quite making it to the top of the heap, which means that I learned something from him within his deconstruction of the now caramelized cultural shock of Psycho, it speaks to something beneficial to veer off topicality, resist the flash points, though at best sometimes all we can do is recycle and echo each other. Where David French would use the phrase “high voltage outrage” to designate Tucker Carlson’s segmented air time within the Fox News pantheon, the dowager would write “blockhead,” and at her most charitable, simply say the little big man anchor is a well defined Neanderthal who puts beefsteak in a three piece suit. Fuck him. Out of near death curiosity I had to stream the interview which led to Durden’s termination and feel Emory was wrong to terminate Durden solely on the basis of a blowout out with a redneck, but he’s our redneck, not some foreign invader like Llhan Omar. Viewers still have the ability not to watch what’s fed into the camera, but this medieval regression seems to be what we prefer, terrorizing wife and children rather than formulating well thought out refutation. Even thoughtful conservatives like Scott Walker cannot do what is necessary for longer term viability: shrink the damn regulatory paradigm and its wilding out growth. He may have succeeded in making us question the wisdom of public sector state employee unions, but pension funds do indeed have to be examined. I can tell you here from the bottom, that Medicaid funding is a sprawling exercise in futility, in my erroneous belief that I could have a normal life, wrong word, a presumption that I could move out of my caste, but  it's more accurate to have supposed a fulfilling one. Krauthammer could do it because his paraplegia was a tragic mishap. He was still dispassionate enough to transfer his skill set from clinical psychiatry to the science of policy. Poor Joanne wanted to excise Norman Bates' mother for Janet Leigh's poise, and wound up far more paralyzed in niggerland than John's boot camp visits entertained in our graduate years.

Wrestling Federations

I do not watch Fox News regularly, sampled Tucker Carlson on Twitter briefly after his exchange with Durden caused her financial security to enter into a tailspin, and still interpret that interview as Carlson baiting the horse. Philadelphia is basically a black city, and I got the gist of Durden's defensiveness about whites, didn't mind it, and truly believe Carlson is too linear, lacking the requisite Jewish urbanity pounded into us on a daily basis, but he did not cause Durden's employers to terminate her contract. Is he a racist, or a hypocrite? I label myself a racist so as not to be hypocritical, but make an effort to be fundamentally fair, unlike the leftists who terrorized Carlson's wife. Galahad wouldn't have lasted as long as he has, otherwise, and our morning ritual of personal hygiene issues is the dream job of no one. Terrorizing him [Carlson] because his rhetoric is reactive to Otherness gets us absolutely nowhere, except to someplace worse, an environment of little leniency. I unsubscribed from the Thrillest because I purchased The First Purge 2018, and Christ people, no right wing government needs such an elaborate scheme to legitimize micro-genocide as a policy solution on a once a year basis. Welfare states do it by turning health care into factory farming. Public housing does it through punitive stricture. If you're as poor as tenants who need 811 or 202, then paternalism is the rod on the back of the aberrant behavior which led to the impoverishment, just as Apple may lose its profit margin because it no longer has a stabilized monopoly on which to base long term development. AT&T had it for about a century. I've written in the past that sometimes, violence is necessary, as it was when T. H. Lawrence became a chameleon in Arabia, or when the ANC traded places with the National Party, and Cape Town is marginally better off than Kampala, but swarming television anchors and politicians of any political stripe with mob intimidation, this simply amounts to civil unrest in a republic becoming too leveraged to either over saturated professions or very high levels of expertise. 

Coffee and Continence: Two

I often have to pause my life for a minute — whether that’s driving down the sidewalk, using my laptop, or eating a meal--my alma mater.

Whenever a writer prefers to sit around and pontificate, instead of working, it signifies sirens of calamity in the background, which actually aren't that dire: I wrote a response to George Will's rather ingenious attack on Trump's willful ignorance, forced myself to find a conclusion, hit the ground with six hundred words, and no one is happy. I have to retool it for other markets I've looked at, fairly certain of ones that would spit in my face, aware of the timelessness issue, and would like to turn the crusty baseball enthusiast upside his head and shake his premium express credit cards out of his pockets, also aware, that if I take these insider dirty laundry issues too far, I possibly wind up black balled. To a certain extent, I am already there, of course. Josie Byzek may not have closed her twitter account because of how often she is cited in Disability in Entertainment Arts, but it is safe to say, I'll never go home again. All I want to know is why I was frozen out of New Mobility. My feature, with intimations of Damore's fate, was controversial, but Tim Gilmer still included me on his contributors. The fat lady hadn't sung, as yet. By the same token, the periodical is very limited, insular in scope, and of little help to me. The only thing I can force upon the United Spinal Association is trouble, but I have larger behemoths in the scope, hence, I have to live with the rancor, or push a point with no real justifiable outcome, but what I want Josie to see is her rationalizations about ambulatory male ignorance in no way protected me, despite regulatory schematics, from paraprofessional abuse, from section 202's regimented discrimination. Does she like it, being a lesbian, that in the dark net of attendant care, so many helpless to defend themselves become enslaved to predatory control? I cannot shield myself from its likely recurrence forever. This, supposedly, was the point of Precious's author, this nothing we can do attitude, despite all our industrious legal generation.

Bambauer cleared up a contextual issue for me, in part, and this is how it works, but not really. Google Blogger should suspend me. Twitter too, and authority should force me into compliance, and I suffer say another eight years, until terminal issue discloses itself, or I can take up my little plan and try beating the odds, or go on, wrangle the system for the joy juice that will not force a lethal reaction. Difficult to do with cerebral palsy.


Drexel University is not that well known to me, but well known enough to be intuited that it's little league academics, a bit spartan, perhaps afflicted with uncertainty, and in the larger societal context, George may have survived employee termination, where Lisa did not, because he was white, angry leftist. In contrast, viewers saw Tucker at war with a paranoid minority in Durden, and echoes of the Black Panthers may have resonated. In real time, these issues are about group dynamics, and less about theory, like claims liberty. This is a contextual issue, our faith in an institutional judiciary. It punished Brandon Phillips, my assaulter, but this did nothing for me. It also pushed back against an unscrupulous landlord, one which thrives on a socialist subsidized federalism, dear libertarian friends, but I live in terror, nonetheless, after years of conflict. Yes, I have a choice: go homeless, bully the same old intake system into emergency relocation, but a real genuine legal fight is probably going to take 24 months. For what? Do I presume more affluence? Support him or not, (I am in the middle, hoping he will hurt progressives who failed me), Trump is a symptom; he is not a proximate cause. Some of my longest online associates have made me diffident because of well worn beatnik cosmetic protests that really cannot unravel poverty entrapment.

Applicable Meaning

"After nearly sixteen years since 9/11, Americans are weary of war without victory." --Donald Trump, dissembling in chief

One of my list files on twitter, which the administrators briefly interfered with, until they were assured the dowager wasn't going to engage in mortal combat with Ciccariello-Maher, a visiting professor at Drexel who should be stripped of his doctorate, not for his speech but for foolhardiness, is Adversaries, and a former NASA astronaut like Mark Kelly doesn't quite belong there, in a queasy tinge, but I am not quite sure what to do with him. If I had an equivalent political partner who was shot in the head, one who will spend the rest of her life in special needs, I too might develop mission fervor with a political action committee. One thing both NRA loyalists and libertarians should acknowledge is that guns are dangerous, as do other mortals, including Senator Toomey, and I appreciate his courage to stand with the Sandy Hook families, as no right is inalienable. I am not even sure I believe in human rights, but that contention is too broad, at least for this morning. It is equally true that I have distaste for Kelly's Responsible Solutions PAC, and blocked them. The rhetoric is holier than thou, and no one has a perfect pitch on perspective. Ciccariello-Maher survived his senseless provocation-- and yes, his tweets backfired because all they did was arouse, and that doesn't help. I might not either, but at least I have my context, and rather serious grievances behind that context, but I am not sure what makes Maher's raconteur tendencies any different than Durden's. I tweeted, and stand by, the sense that Carlson was slightly too self-righteous. Bigoted as I may be, I live in a black city, and being black in Philadelphia, in 3 out of 4 instances, translates into agrarian limitations obvious to anyone in the professional class. Let me state, emphatically, that I am not Durden's ally, and she isn't about to sympathize with my excoriating attacks on black arrogance. I'm posting, merely, that she paid a heavy price for that interview, which was really nothing more than her advocacy for blacks speaking for themselves. The disabled do this all the time. No one calls savants racists for self-congregating. It isn't like she was advocating a black militia movement.

Storey's tweets, on the other hand, were indicative of something else. Between the lines, he was weary of teaching, and shot his barbs into a real time event which has caused loss of life, and he might have held back, written a satirical opinion. The Republican Party isn't a monster simply because of Trump's alt.right revolt, and as Phillips source says, people don't do things like that, in the middle of a tragedy, in real time feed. Yet Palin's case against the Times was dismissed. I have not studied this. I don't have the time to back track every factual point, read the briefs, but from what established media has presented, in its examination, persuaded me Governor Palin had a case. I agreed with Wemple that there may have been an actual malice standard. Rakoff's ruling catches me by surprise.

Early on between 10 and 12, I voiced some criticism of Palin on twitter. The Atlantic's profile of her governorship spiraled into a damaged show horse nominee the media virtually pillaged, perhaps deservedly. Recently, I swung my battleship, and I'm following her, probably going to write a post, send it to her site, or a contact submittal, and see what happens. Maybe nothing, but Palin's sensibility as an independent wife and mother resonate more sympathetically, after my tribulations. My point, however, is, the First Amendment is, in essence, meaningless, at least, if we examine these examples.

Begrudging Victory

Hugo (2011) is a great 21st century film primarily due to its visual structure, and the effect of being shot in 3D. If I can acknowledge Scorsese's motifs and still find reasons to contend with them, he beats me here, hands down. This is what I get for believing he only shot in New York. The Paris we visualize in the opening has a fairy tale quality, the opening set up isn't afraid of leaving you utterly baffled, and the script offers us a dazzling feedback loop which only cinema can do, in all its magnificence. If I wasn't in such a crisis of age, I might have wept over the saga of Hugo Cabret and all his secret passages. Oh, the A-list team did its part, not Kingsley so much-- this type of role, an ambiguous character with secrets, is part of his terrain, but Lee as the stony, ominous librarian? Law as the myopic father who might have been nominated for sainthood? This might be a good place to quit Blogger. Beneath the surface of every liberal is the hypocrisy. The Internet did help me, but this was before social media had its shit fest, between 99 and 04. Since, I've been scrambling for pennies on my labor. All my words have changed nothing: Trudy Richardson is still a southern nigger transplant with bran for brains who has put me under nearly impossible levels of duress. Just because we do not speak it doesn't mean it isn't true. Lisa Durden understands this, so did Google's engineer. Both have suffered  economically for it. Where is the virtue of freedom of speech if, in corporate culture, it is financially punitive? The abuses I die with are a deck of cards with their own range of flavors, and as I've never been loved, I am too old to be capable now. I am not having the best week, but I will not go too far afield.

Patterson's Poor Execution

What is missed in penile insertion into the vaginal orifice, the depth of which is rivaled only by the anus, though both are out done by the esophagus, which I believe metastasized into a lump and killed Cousin Albert, a form of terminal demise to which I am privy, and rate second only to locked in syndrome as an expiration most desirous to avoid, is the heat of this highly sexualized piece of cartilage. The heat of a penis is a positive sensation, like the pilot light in an oven, and I never truly experienced it as a form of desire for me, as a liberating escape from ravages of conscious identity. It was only a curiosity, the few times I was at it, outside of tongue. Albert brought the Jewish blood in, as with most Italian families. I never see these favored cousins.
At this stage in my lifespan it is probably too late, any future potential sex little more than a violation and discomfort, rather than consensual adventure, or an act of love. We see how romantic congruence translates on the set on a daily basis, know what chemistry is. Frank tried his best to run through his paces, in fact, but as far as the dowager was concerned he might have been one of her groping clients, men and women, black and white, from whom evasive maneuvers were necessary: now the air we breathe is compromised. I did not realize, until recently, that Zoo was in its third season, with Billy Burke ever the intrepid survivalist. I have never read any of James Patterson's  stories, do not intend to, as much because of his inane commercial advertising as any of his other marketing strategies, but will give him this: Zoo is a nice revenge fantasy poorly executed, even if my rather late glimpse into what is going on felt like an episode of The 100, with every actor hiding behind skype and simulated computer graphics, signifying that complexity and catastrophe go hand in hand in our current populist age. I may have recycled this sentiment as well, but merge it with the pragmatic sensibility of the Amazon customer pointing out the opening season's rushed, choppy feel. Trump upbraided Lisa Durden for her vitriol, and I've reached a kind of plateau where no one truly cares about mine. I recycle too much of it, to the tune of tone deafness, and my white hot anger has not translated, quite, into consequence, as my COPD occasional flare ups slipped my mind. If I am actively in my early dying stage, I've markedly eluded emergency medical care. Perhaps it's too easy to blame barometric pressure, but how many good resets I have, this Thursday morning after Salvation's disruption, seem suddenly precious.
I cannot tell you, despite the grooves of my trauma, that I have been latently butch all along. Were that the case, the lesbian passes I've had to absorb, forced, would have gotten me off. This never happened. Not feeling well, I fathom getting back to bed without incident, shins swollen, wondering if its worth pushing matters, manufacturing a hate crime, on a strong day, rolling dice with God in a failing machine.

Durden du jour

In light of what I just wrote below, Lisa Durden's firing is punitive, and shows how little the 1st Amendment protects us from economic damages. I have no problem with African American separatism. The subtext of my outcry is government forcing me to live under socialism and black aides, and it's my fault, but I have no issue with blacks being hired and qualified, doing things among themselves. The left has some serious problems; I find now, however, that it's best if I log onto search, get what I need, write offline. I'll be back. Bad day. Gassy, hurting, and not dead, yet.