Time, time away and time to write about time

Little Man shows us all that there are far better thing to do than writing a damn blog

Yes, the theme is ‘Time’ and now’s the time for all bad bloggers (specifically, yours truly) to come to the aid of those who received a little brown envelope full of something ear-splittingly toxic this past week. Just after the FBI’s kicked in your door and started tearing up the carpet but just prior to the timorous tapping of hazmat-suited CDC dweebs at your door, I give you the links of potential victims and the recipe for my aural anthrax.

Smed
Got Cow Now?
Daily Bitch
Sterfish
Fantastic Sam
Mamacita... bow down, ya'll
Crazy Math Lady
Alala
Punchbuggy Blues
The Awesome ~d

Thems the responsible Ahmerkuns, God bless em' one and all. None of em' dropped a bomb nowhere that I know of nor ended ended a sentence

Now, for the poison I sent out with no fear of being eventually strapped to a water board...

Cornershop - 6 A.M. Juliander Shere
The call to prayer, wake up, time to shake your head and recognize the big world outside your bedroom window is waiting to toss you into rotating blades and turn you into mulch.

Ministry - Jesus Built My Hotrod
"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son,[a] that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life," and left some fucking incredible tires.

Fugazi - No Exit
Gotta' figure Satre had his pistons oiled well enough by Jesus at one time or another which led, eventually, to Fugazi telling us about how it felt... MMMmmmm....

Stereolab - Analogue Rock
You gotta' tick? Let me burn it off... Tock? No thanks, you bore the shit out of me, frankly.

Brian Wilson - (Suite) Wonderful/Song For Children/Child is Father of the Man/Surf's Up
The only song(s) on this disk that really represented this theme as it was (I think) meant to be heard. I mean, we're all getting older and we're all going to die but whatever it was that we once held onto as cool and righteous will eventually find itself laid out like bits of kelp and bone-white sand dollars, abandoned, forgotten, picked up or kicked aside but otherwise nothing more than the detritus of the last wave that will, inevitably, drop more dead things on the beach. Walk on, enjoy the spray, take a tumble in the breakers - you have this, now, and the rest matters with those who walk down the beach after you. They won't remember your obituary.

Massive Attack - Inertia Creeps
So... take a walk on the beach, your time is limited. Really, less time than a Victoria's Secret fantasy, I assure you (despite what you might think, otherwise)...

Patrick Ascione - Lune Noire (excerpt)
Rzzzzz.... zick, fnkkkkk.... what'd I tell you?!?

The Posies - Coming Right Along
See? Doesn't that feel good? I mean, you're gonna' die anyway...

Les McCann & Eddie Harris - Compared to What
That's what I'm asking.

Don McClean - American Pie
He kinda' says it's the "day the music died" but then he leaves it open for you to decide if you really hate this song or if you secretly love it.

Gov't Mule - 30 Days in the Hole
Unless you've done it, you won't understand how well the Dude does this song.

Thee Headcoatees - Ca Plane Pour Moi
Fucking French faggots.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Our Time to Be Hated
Fucking French faggots R Us. Or US. Something since six years ago, I think.

Pink Floyd - Eclipse
My Eclipse died six miles outside of Sacramento and this is all I've got...

Until noon I'm slapping the back of your head yelling, Morning!"

Note to all you Mixmania! players (update)

Sorry I've been a deadhead with this but there's too much on my plate at the moment to make this work the way I intended (and posted about). We, myself and the wee ones, have been stranded at my parent's house due to the weather and I'm away from my computer where all the information is regarding the various participants for the Time mix.

When I do get back to my computer, I'll probably take a kind friend's offer and have her mix and email all of you; probably won't be until Monday at the earliest. So please, hang in there and I apologize for dropping the ball.

In this decayed hole among the mountains, in the faint moonlight, the grass is singing

No more chocolate bunnies and what Easter grass remains are the stray tufts shoved between the cushions of the couch. Sunday's celebration, whatever it meant (secularly or sacerdotally) has gone the way of my petunias and crocuses.

As you can see, the midget mafia had much less enthusiasm for heading off to mass with my parents than they had for consuming peeps. Dressed nice for the occasion, though.

The bonnets were cute but unnecessary - there was nary a ray of sunshine on Sunday and we were bundling more so than bunting. The girls were not long for the dresses, either; not on a day where you could see your breath and your footsteps.

Last year at Easter, we were dealing with bees and spilled kool-aid. So much for warm-weather nostalgia.

Small wonder I'm suffering a bit of amnesia regarding the season this year: like so much of the country, it's not much of a spring. This evening looked like this:

Tomorrow's forecast calls for more of that; I'd prefer to remember Easter, not Christmas.

Close the damn door, it's freezing...

So it goes.

I just read that Kurt Vonnegut died at the age of 84.

Again, I'm too spent to do my usual ten-page rap and it would require at least that to explain what Vonnegut meant to me, especially during my exceptionally twisted adolescence. That influence extends into the present and much of what you read here is the result of what I learned from him; my sense of humor, my sense of outrage.

Life is too complicated to go into it at the moment. Hopefully, I will soon have the time and energy to articulate what's going on (and state my farewell to Kurt Vonnegut) by this weekend. Until then, I leave you with a favorite passage of mine, from “God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater,” a summation of his philosophy - and what he taught me:

“Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you’ve got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, babies — ‘God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.’ ”

God Bless you, Mr. Vonnegut.

Tard

A-hyep, thass me, tard.

Spent my morning on the job track (the job I mentioned a week or so back fell through, yet more evidence for my theory of "blog jinx") and a lovely afternoon doing yard work for the Rents. Then more job stuff. My necktie (*gasp!*) is still on, too tired to take it off.

So... you mixmania! fiends will have to wait another day or so before I match everyone and mail them out. There's an ever ripening pineapple in the kitchen that I'm too tired to slice and eat, much less toss out with the trash.

ZZZZzzzzzzzz...

Blog Against Theocracy

“When fascism comes to America it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying a cross.” —Sinclair Lewis

As much as I'd love to bloviate on this subject - a much, much larger threat to our country than terrorism, the bursting housing bubble, or global warming - I need to get shaking. The wee one's are getting ready to head over to the Rent's with me where we'll spend the rest of our weekend. Chocolate bunnies, hidden eggs, and Easter mass for them, chocolate bunny ears and Joseph Heller for me.

Instead of my blather, you're better off taking action at http://www.firstfreedomfirst.org/, reading about Blogging Against Theocracy and checking out Tristero's essential posts at Hullabaloo (spelling out how determined - and dangerous - the Fishists really are), Part I, Part II, and Part III - really, you need to click those links to get perspective on why blogging against theocracy is not just necessary but important.

I may get back here if I have time this evening but in the meantime, I'd be interested to read any posts YOU have put up in response to this call. Alert me with a link (and whatever else you'd like to add) in the comments and I promise to give you mention here, later.

Off to chocolate bunnyland.

No blinky tonight

New modem…. MMMMmmm. One steady light to guide me.

And so, as I threatened, I’m back to spank conservative asses with a wicked stick. Just as the Zen Master would smack a pupil upside the head to ameliorate enlightenment, I thump a conservative where his thoughts reside.

Applying for child care assistance and Medicaid is not a choice, it’s a necessity. As I wrote in my last post, those applications were conveniently “lost” and the entire process required filing everything again. Not a simple process of just resubmitting the paperwork but having to sit and wait and sit and wait, taking another day off from work to rectify the fuck up of a fuck up. The genius of welfare reform is that if anyone needs assistance they’d better bygod have a job. Then in order to get assistance, you don’t much go to that job because you have to sit and wait and sit and wait – all fucking day – in order to get that request processed. Several days, in fact, because even if a single T was not crossed, it all goes back to zilch. Same thing if something was “lost”. “We screwed up but it’s as if you screwed up, so….”

Some of you conservatives (still stupid enough to keep reading me) would say, “Find a better job”. That’s brilliant. Let’s make that part of the GOP’s new economic plan. Yes, let’s all be CEO’s - you morons.

I get to spend my tomorrow dealing with fuckups, feeling like Harry Reid or Nancy Pelosi; those of you who voted for the biggest fuckup in American history, I hope you feel sufficiently spanked but if you’re reading this, you get a bit extra.

Holy Freakin’ Christ with a chocolate dick

It’s touch and go whether or not I can post. This is the first time in 14 hours that I’ve had a steady light on my modem and I’m praying to the Virgin, the Elephant, and all the Monkeys that I’ll get to throw this up before my modem light goes all blinky. Blinky’s been my life for the last three weeks, a goddamn Pac-Man game I cannot win.

Lots of games I cannot win it seems, not unless I’m making a hundred grand a year or so. Last week X told me I needed to submit an application for our childcare assistance (which I did with a quickness) and this week tells me that both my application and her own application for Medicaid was “lost’.

These are two people whose combined income is less than $45K a year. Two people who struggle to just pay bills much less have anything left over to buy new shoes or jaunts at Chuck E Cheese. It’s touch and go whether or not I can post. This is the first time in 14 hours that I’ve had a steady light on my modem and I’m praying to the Virgin, the Elephant, and all the Monkeys that I’ll get to throw this up before my modem light goes all blinky. Blinky’s been my life for the last three weeks, a goddamn Pac-Man game I cannot win.

God knows we needed to keep corporations healthy.

Let’s keep the arctic ice melting, you dumbfucks, everything is working out so well. Let’s take a stroll in a Baghdad neighborhood and ignore the bodies, let’s tell gay brothers and sisters they’re subhuman, let’s let NOLA rot in shit that’s a metaphor for the rest of our country.

Comcast is supposed to be here in the morning to fix my connectivity issues; we’ll see. If they work it out, I swear, you’re going to hear a lot more about my son and how I can’t afford his medication and how easy it is for the government to “lose” paperwork when they’re ordered to lose paperwork.

If you like George Bush or the Republican party, you ought to stay away – dipshits. Your philosophy is about to get slammed hard once Comcast fixes my shit. Which seems a contradiction but no, that’s because the conservative mind is linear…