I know that people in this country don't give a damn about what's going on across the street, much less in world affairs, but here's what's going on in the "Home of the Free?"
At this moment, Al Jazeera English is jammed. Won't load. Tunisia fell, Egypt fell, Libya is hell on wheels out of control, and there is no available Arab perspective available to a truth-seeking American.
Last fall, Wikileaks was jammed. By our government.
Great stuff these days, this censorship.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Freud's Retirement Decision
This was awesome:
The dream began, predictably, with Douglas County giving all delinquent tax properties to the homeless. I think this inadvertently caused many or all the conflicts to follow. I wasn't involved in any way with that situation--I just showed up in the dream, and it was that way. And had been for some time.
This homeless guy named KH, who actually exists, and in the dream was wearing the exact same outfit he's been wearing for the past four months was the first person I talked to. I was walking downtown Lawrence, and he asked me if I'd like to check out his new pad. I told him I thought that was encouraging news, and I followed him to a building I had never been in across the street from the old Love Garden. It was one of those "1/2" numbered properties with apartments upstairs. When we got up to the facility, it was noticeably run about like one would expect a homeless-operated enterprise to be run. Tents and shanties were set up inside, but there were some shitty furnishings and just enough appliances available that they could burn the place down. Even though these people had homes, they had done everything they could to maintain a homeless type environment, except that they had an outstanding library. The collection of rare books they had there was incredible! (It should be noted that the homeless have a great appreciation for public libraries.)
I got to know the fellow who was kind of financing the ongoing operations of this homeless pad, who I'd never met--but he looked like SL, and I told him so, but he assured me he wasn't Scott and didn't know SL. He was probably right. Too tall--and the guy was a lot more interested in purchasing some high-end electronics than doing much to remedy the obvious situations facing this nest of shittiness. I suggested that he maybe pay the taxes on the place before the electronics were purchased, and he reminded me that was the only obvious way for a rival homeless outfit to gain control of the property. He then melted down, crying, and ran out of the building while some folk singers started a fire in the middle of the living area with some of those rare books, and singing hippie songs around that fire. I thought it was a good time to leave.
On my way out to the street, TM (becoming a sweet recurring character in my dreams) was trying unsuccessfully to direct traffic in the middle of Mass Street where no intersection existed. He tried to explain what he was doing, but I told him to go home, and he did. That was easy to fix.
BH was doing some laundry in the La Familia Restaurant, and told me about his new strategies to pick up college chicks. "Bleach. It's all about bleach." I was intrigued about how this was working out for a married guy with two little girls, but he assured me he had a couple of hours before any of that mattered. Very un-BH like. But I let him be, because I had to attend the American Legion Meeting, and I told BH I would get back with him later.
I was tired by the time of the AL meeting, so I rolled out a cot and got situated for a nap before the meeting really got underway. I couldn't get settled with this procedural nonsense going on, and finally, things came to a head because there was some non-legionnaire laying in a cot sleeping during the middle of the meeting. My patriotism was never called into question or anything--the debate started between MJ and AC over whether sleeping was generally allowed during the meetings, but it quickly devolved into a heated discussion over the merits of the Korean conflict vs. World War II. That got the Vietnam vets pissy, and the gulf war vets were getting way out of hand, but MJ and AC started fistfighting over the Korea/WWII thing. You wouldn't know it by looking at those guys, but in a dream setting they are tremendous technical fighters. AC is a lot cheaper, however. That's where BB1 got involved. I didn't know he was even in the room, but he appeared wearing a boxing referee's outfit, and told the boys to "Keep it clean." By this time, there were fights all over the room, and some jackass I didn't know hit me over the head with a beer bottle. BB1 suggested rare map donations to the homeless for kindling, and that whole situation resolved itself.
I saw KH in the streets outside, and she was walking around town looking for BH, and BB2 was with her. He had strangely developed some sort of massive cocaine problem. He was looking for BH for both legal advice and an 8-ball. KH tried to tell her that BH was way more into sedatives, and that he would be very unlikely to help. I got kicked out of a dance club that was downtown--probably some new morph of the old last call site, where DJ SA was spinning discs. It should be noted that BB2 got us kicked out there by grabbing SA's mike and making a public appeal for "Lots of Acid and Ecstacy." Strange behavior there...
But when we got to the now-abandoned public library, things came to a head between BB2 and BH over the lack of any volume of drugs available to get everyone through the weekend. So, BH stole my car, and told everyone he was going to go "fix it."
Then, I picked a fight with a short fat dude that was in the AL meeting because I didn't like the way he was looking at me.
Hey, it beats watching TV, I guess...not quite as violent though.
Slade
The dream began, predictably, with Douglas County giving all delinquent tax properties to the homeless. I think this inadvertently caused many or all the conflicts to follow. I wasn't involved in any way with that situation--I just showed up in the dream, and it was that way. And had been for some time.
This homeless guy named KH, who actually exists, and in the dream was wearing the exact same outfit he's been wearing for the past four months was the first person I talked to. I was walking downtown Lawrence, and he asked me if I'd like to check out his new pad. I told him I thought that was encouraging news, and I followed him to a building I had never been in across the street from the old Love Garden. It was one of those "1/2" numbered properties with apartments upstairs. When we got up to the facility, it was noticeably run about like one would expect a homeless-operated enterprise to be run. Tents and shanties were set up inside, but there were some shitty furnishings and just enough appliances available that they could burn the place down. Even though these people had homes, they had done everything they could to maintain a homeless type environment, except that they had an outstanding library. The collection of rare books they had there was incredible! (It should be noted that the homeless have a great appreciation for public libraries.)
I got to know the fellow who was kind of financing the ongoing operations of this homeless pad, who I'd never met--but he looked like SL, and I told him so, but he assured me he wasn't Scott and didn't know SL. He was probably right. Too tall--and the guy was a lot more interested in purchasing some high-end electronics than doing much to remedy the obvious situations facing this nest of shittiness. I suggested that he maybe pay the taxes on the place before the electronics were purchased, and he reminded me that was the only obvious way for a rival homeless outfit to gain control of the property. He then melted down, crying, and ran out of the building while some folk singers started a fire in the middle of the living area with some of those rare books, and singing hippie songs around that fire. I thought it was a good time to leave.
On my way out to the street, TM (becoming a sweet recurring character in my dreams) was trying unsuccessfully to direct traffic in the middle of Mass Street where no intersection existed. He tried to explain what he was doing, but I told him to go home, and he did. That was easy to fix.
BH was doing some laundry in the La Familia Restaurant, and told me about his new strategies to pick up college chicks. "Bleach. It's all about bleach." I was intrigued about how this was working out for a married guy with two little girls, but he assured me he had a couple of hours before any of that mattered. Very un-BH like. But I let him be, because I had to attend the American Legion Meeting, and I told BH I would get back with him later.
I was tired by the time of the AL meeting, so I rolled out a cot and got situated for a nap before the meeting really got underway. I couldn't get settled with this procedural nonsense going on, and finally, things came to a head because there was some non-legionnaire laying in a cot sleeping during the middle of the meeting. My patriotism was never called into question or anything--the debate started between MJ and AC over whether sleeping was generally allowed during the meetings, but it quickly devolved into a heated discussion over the merits of the Korean conflict vs. World War II. That got the Vietnam vets pissy, and the gulf war vets were getting way out of hand, but MJ and AC started fistfighting over the Korea/WWII thing. You wouldn't know it by looking at those guys, but in a dream setting they are tremendous technical fighters. AC is a lot cheaper, however. That's where BB1 got involved. I didn't know he was even in the room, but he appeared wearing a boxing referee's outfit, and told the boys to "Keep it clean." By this time, there were fights all over the room, and some jackass I didn't know hit me over the head with a beer bottle. BB1 suggested rare map donations to the homeless for kindling, and that whole situation resolved itself.
I saw KH in the streets outside, and she was walking around town looking for BH, and BB2 was with her. He had strangely developed some sort of massive cocaine problem. He was looking for BH for both legal advice and an 8-ball. KH tried to tell her that BH was way more into sedatives, and that he would be very unlikely to help. I got kicked out of a dance club that was downtown--probably some new morph of the old last call site, where DJ SA was spinning discs. It should be noted that BB2 got us kicked out there by grabbing SA's mike and making a public appeal for "Lots of Acid and Ecstacy." Strange behavior there...
But when we got to the now-abandoned public library, things came to a head between BB2 and BH over the lack of any volume of drugs available to get everyone through the weekend. So, BH stole my car, and told everyone he was going to go "fix it."
Then, I picked a fight with a short fat dude that was in the AL meeting because I didn't like the way he was looking at me.
Hey, it beats watching TV, I guess...not quite as violent though.
Slade
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