Ghosts of George Kennan

Vaya con Dios-- a pachi making up his mind

To the extent that the Korean War was a precursor to the somewhat over-simplified policy of "the domino effect," it still seems preferable that Truman would have allowed MacArthur his aggression during the dubious ignition of the original conflict; it would have had a less devastating global impact. The US military can wage any battle it puts its mind to, until the political reality of occupying foreign territory sinks in. With the possible exception of our charming war with Mexico in 1850, we don't know what to do when we win, except when it comes to Europe. The republican heir of imperialism threw its wealth back at its parent, and NATO is an anomaly in a majority populace of doves, understandably so. In this account, I am mostly either outraged that I pissed my life away in the city of my birth because of an attachment I would have never been able to maintain anyway, (discounting all the abuses my illustrious state has offered up), illegal, specious, or full of longing I cannot fulfill, but I am not attempting to be facetious this morning, and realize that throughout the course of its civilized formation, the majority of Asians suffered horribly, under their own fanaticism, or our own mercantile avarice, and North Korea has long had the stench of an outhouse attached to it. The secret footage smuggled out of Pyongyang illustrates some of the bleakest conditions of human existence outside of concentration camps, and I've seen a good diet of bleak footage. Yemen is positively lively next to the average starving North Korean female, and thus, no citizen in the North deserves a return to the desolation after the cease fire was signed in 53.

This said, it seems Kim is pushing an envelope, one in which the question isn't defeating him, but rather turns into, can Xi Jinping be cowed into submission, or do we risk a third world war with a New York real estate celebrity entrepreneur at the helm? Major economies would be disrupted, and the very thought of NATO occupying the border of the world's most populous nuclear power? 


The despotic personality cult of the upper peninsula has plagued three previous administrations. The longer this drags on, the more lethal the impending consequences. The only reasonable solution the dowager can contrive: induce the Chinese military to defang the puppet state over which it has suzerainty, however tumultuous that muscle is, at present. I've written this before. I'll write it again: I voted for Donald Trump, reluctantly. If there was ever an election to sit out, in decent libertarian felicity, it was 2016, and though I could route my diction otherwise, as I am posting this with some gravity, a mild alarm-- on election day, I made a choice, without being blind. I am fully aware conservatives have problems: but I can never return to the progressive sensibility of a triumphant egalitarian field, and so, my minority vote said "fuck you," despite the small fortune I have cost the welfare state, I am a pauper, broken by activists as much as any residual austerity, and Trump's impropriety has amused me, but we do not need to reignite the ghosts of opposition to Vietnam, which was a travesty on the heels of Truman's escapades.

Austerity of Mortar

On rare occasions, I marvel at the fact that Robert Thomas and I have been friends for slightly over two decades. It is lost to obscurity, who initiated our mutual familiarity, why we exchanged email addresses, why I confided much to him as an email junkie, at first. I treated him like a girlfriend, not a man, which signifies something about San Francisco liberalism and pasteurized testicles, and when I more recently told him I was having trouble with a draft of a poem titled "Black China," which is still troubled, a bit too lethal with sexual trauma, he made a suggestion which I appreciated, which illustrates I hold my ferocity it check for intelligence of a kind, similar to Jeffrey Tucker, a would-have been editor, and the Foundation for Economic Education's Communication Director. Why can't I just write FEE? Why drag it out, as if choking to death on marbles, fascinating spheres which must be manufactured in a method similar to ball bearings.

The case of Otto F. Warmbier is horrifying. This terror state is a disgrace to the human race.

— Jeffrey A Tucker (@jeffreyatucker) June 20, 2017

All Robert remarked upon when we discussed "Black China," was "it has a lot going on." What else could he convey, or even know for himself, about women, brain damage, and the like? Robert and I have remained friends because I haven't been vicious, overly demanding, and we have an entire country between us, even as I grow more increasingly autocratic, vehement, toggling how far I will take militant defiance of authority as a salve for failure and age. Sheldon Novick, also, tweeted "thank you my friend," for his birthday wishes. I was not going to drag the Jamesian legal scholar into this post, but what he meant was I wasn't being an imposition, and he appreciated my following of convention to single him out. Though I cannot speak for Jeffrey, whose mind operates closest to my own pattern when I am not being utterly heinous, Robert Thomas, Sheldon Novick, and Joanne Marinelli are going to soon expire, not to mention my mentor, and none of us have absolute control over these last decades. Indeed, even hale and energetic generations under us, to whom we're supposed to bequeath our intrinsic wisdom, often face the end unexpected. The elderly, being cautious, sometimes survive the folly of youthful credence in itself, and when Jeffrey raised his voice about Wambier's excruciating sufferance under the nearly extinct fanaticism of Pyongyang, the last vestige of Maoism's exterminating tendencies, I did not wish to allow Jeffrey's resonating outcry to reach me. I knew of the story beforehand, but there are only so many causes any of us can attend to at one time, and even if Wambier was part of a tour group, why take the risk? There are places in the world westerners, Americans, shouldn't go, even for journalistic exposes, unless it is necessary for their jobs, as part of the foreign service. Nonetheless, despite the errors of our free, liberal, will, he did not deserve his fate. He went, and the conservative reaction doesn't change such a horrendous outcome. Jeffrey reached me, although here, too, I put the bit in my teeth, and never wrote him the letter I thought I might. He cannot save me simply because his intellect is equally shrewd, and keen. Bad choices, eggs in the basket starting to turn. When boiled eggs go bad, the odor, even for invalids challenged by the arts of hygiene, is pungent, domineering, and compels disposal.

There is no hyperbole sufficient for the volatility of the DMZ. It quells Trump's idiocy with the same force of regularity applied to spastic belligerence. Though one cannot speak for Xi's protean Marxism, American patriotic sentiment, when examining the bewilderment that is Asia, has to be mindful of disaster's gravity, even if orchestrated by the most extreme cultist dictatorship left in the world. Chuch'e (CIA) generates its own zealots, even under young Kim's fractious grip, and detainees have been used as bargaining chips with the regularity of a dripping faucet. Jimmy Carter extracted Ajahon Gomes from his predicament. There may be an abatement of Kim's rogue antipodes for the time being, but it will continue, and it will continue because this is the consequence of the left, of state model socialism. It is a wonder indeed, the tolerance allotted to a militant, increasingly right wing woman in her blasted circumstance. A Jewish secular liberal, a California poet with just so slightly better branding, a Southern libertarian whose humanism eschews the lessons of social fear. Perhaps not as diversified as it appears.

On one occasion, near the "Hand-over," when I was not present, the expedition was more successful. It struck a party of nearly 50 Indians, killed several warriors, and captured others. Memoirs of W.T. Sherman, p. 19

Concomitant Affinity with flavored ices

"They have concerts there." Joanne Cristinziani

Did Patricia Arquette stop to consider the plight of Amy Pascal before giving her Oscar speech? Probably not, but it points to the inherent implosion of the ever expanding egalitarian tent. Amy Pascal certainly had a salary that offered her security and self sufficiency, and yet, Sony Entertainment allowed one of the worst extremist states in Asia to dictate the terms of Ms Pascal's departure. How does this happen in the most powerful republican democracy left on the planet? The President of the United States lost face to Kim Jong Un. Truman fought a war over this peninsula, a real war with real consequences, and technological interface turns us all into a laughingstock.

Arquette is a slightly older, better branded, variation on Kathryn Morris: the ice blonde with a cellophane glamour who can be the predator and carnage target simultaneously, obviously to keep viewers in suspense. Morris, intuitively closer to the ground, has not fully mastered the leitmotif as Arquette managed to do after leaving her first horror franchise. By the time she landed Medium as a signature role, industry critics conveyed that Medium respected its audience. That is true, but if it enabled morons to take psychics seriously, it raises interesting questions about morality and artistic license, which Jerry McGuire, as an instructor, would have been cool to. (Yes, I remember everything.) The series gave the predictive qualities of its title character a natural realism, at least initially, without the need of grandiose spectacle.

I have a word both about Chris Peak's reprint from Gawker and to the author himself: Some forms of suffering are worse than existence. That is just the way it is. I fell into mental health to earn a living, and between that experience, my life, and a corrupt unethical Protestant corporation intent on being a skin flint, living in one of the poorest cities on the east coast, I never fully recovered. Part of my solution, is to deactivate the grid. We are the animals that created it, and can still cut across it, but don't get too involved with the emotional pain of others. I could write fifty posts in a week, and no one can understand the fact I am in my last functional years, and yes, despite every TOS governing every online portal, my strongest years of sufficiency were taken from me, illegally. No adjudication can turn back that clock, hence my options are unpleasant. Those who can evade such stark choices are blessed. Yesterday's storm offered the type of snowfall which lends itself to metaphysical inquiry, and I had logged in to actually telephone Inglis House-- the idea being vaguely, to force their intake to kill me; yet I stopped, wrote a post instead.

I don't suppose my fine European viewers in Germany will give me any indication of what their 30 page views mean, of course not. Hitler's grave will degrade and re-enter the evolutionary food chain before I'm offered any legitimacy..

Bell Bottoms Template

The flowers were indeed very very fresh: small autumn roses that were or had run wild. Joachim Neugroschel's translation, page 82.

Herve Villechaize had a vocation as a painter. The black and white photo spread of the once impoverished dwarf kneeling on the floor with his paint brushes may have appeared in Life Magazine; it may also have appeared in People. It was definitely not his newspaper obituary, but this is what immediately came from memory when Fantasy Island hit poor greaseball spastic trash recycled broadcast, aside from how tacky the show actually was. Look at the episodes now and wince, though Montalban is finally dead too, after braving his vanity by baring diseased shins on Chicago Hope. It breaks the heart, the eagerness and anticipation every week for quite stupid fantastical television which may have been the seed for my novel about characters disappearing to an island and made Abrams rich instead.

Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease is strange, at least within the damage matrix of cerebral palsy. Every time I am ready to dial emergency hospice the lung phlegm seeps down into my spastic colon and fecal discharge has a field day. Two or three days of shit pus, and then it starts all over and barring an unexpected traffic accident or otherwise violent death in Black Urban Landscapes, this is how I am going to die. This is how I am going to die unless unless I live long enough to get digitized, Jesus Fucking Christ in the most exasperated expression of real life horror I can utter. Comparatively it isn't enough, how lucky I am compared to native Koreans or Africans. If I was in their particular geography I could not compare myself to America's public housing police state for losers. Just as the industry wasn't enough for Villechaize. He probably regretted the gun shot and the triage if he was conscious after his injury at the utter lack of dignity involved in the attempt to keep him alive. Sutures, IV. Clinical applications are more dehumanizing than any comic routine in white suits with Mexicans he did not like.

There is a blog contest at some press, and if I entered it the entire literary community would no doubt read me the riot act, and then some. I'd lose on design outright because I have no idea how to design and none of you have written a dam word since I opened this account. In a brief email exchange with a literary editor, I tried to hint nicely that I needed subscribers to my Examiner page and she hinted nicely she needed financial support. I bit my lip. My desire to support journals through subscription is dead on arrival, this artistry on which I staked my muted east coast life. Poor Herve, whether or not he picked the better of two lousy choices for unhappy people within broken bodies. I never properly knew any midgets, just those with brittle bones, and one of those was a participant in the ugly incident my spastic supervisor thrust upon me.