Monday, December 31, 2007


When the rich get an itch they hire someone to scratch it. Not an "amatcher" scratcher, "natcherly." He'll hire a specialist with a degree in "scratchology" at a thou an hour who will find the source with his educated finger, pull out the humdinger, and be on his way.

Was it caused by a bee, a flea or a "tootsie" fly? Hives or poison ivy? A bedbug or a rootie tootie common every day low-grade cootie? Medicare cares when it pays the bills and maybe for a few sugar pills for an itch on the back or near the sacroiliac, the fee can be out of reach.

If the itch is in an embarrassing place what the scratcher charges will be a disgrace. Not all scratches are expensive. If it's on the nose or between the toes, and comfort is easily induced, the fee might be reduced.

You can see, treating a legit itch can be a "bun" of a "sitch," But it's all the "responsibility of the scratcher and the "scratchee."

Saturday, December 29, 2007


We who walk on two feet talk a lot about who we are and what we're not and thought we were superior to "dumb" animals, to other races and creeds with tints of skin with similar but different faces now realize that under the skin and/or beneath hide the fur coat hides we're more alike than we like to admit.

We now are convinced that our convictions were based not on fact but fictions and know the absurdities just ain't so. We all have appetites that tell us when and what to eat and turn the food, once consumed, into unpleasant fumes and body waste and provide a place where it can exit. Next it will return to earth still of worth to nurture nature's greenery of sustenance and scenery. It will realize its goal, to fertilize the food they eat.

When upset by life's upheaval and tempted by good and evil we, more often than the animals we once considered dumb, are more apt to succumb to insensitive idiocy than our fur or feather relations.

All creatures, with few exceptions, express affection, emotion and devotion, feel stress and strain, endure physical pain, have brains and use them, don't abuse them, are born, feel hot and cold, are born, grow up, grow old and die, sometimes with no reason why.

So who are we and who are they? We both work and play by day and sleep at night. Sometimes we're wrong but in the long run, right. And if one day The Bomb must fall and all are faced with the identical fate it will be too late to hate. So love thy neighbors, one and all.

"Dumb animals" are not dumb. Some are smarter than we in their way. Scientists believe all creatures great and small, from insects to intellects, fish in the sea to you and me send and receive messages to others of like kind. All creates have active minds, communicate with languages they create.

So the next time you go to the zoo, bid your brother ape a howdy-do, say "Hi!" to birds as they fly by and share good news with the gnus.

Thursday, December 27, 2007


I ask my mind to tell me what it sees about the me who is yet to be. My mind might remind me what came into my view, an event that was so new it had not happened yet and still waits in an unused portion of time in an undetermined place to become a reality.

My mind speaks to me: "You some time ago saw it happen in a blur as it waited to occur. It still is there, and will remain in an unused corner of your brain waiting for the moment when ESP will set it free. Then it will not be a were or a was. When it does reveal itself in all its clear visuality it will become a past reality.

"Keep in mind what is in your mind waiting for you to find the time and place to set it free. You see, everything that was or is or will be is still stored currently in the warehouse of expectancy."

I thank my mind most graciously for telling me what is yet to be when it is ready to become a reality. Until then I will be satisfied to let it hide inside of the mentality that confides to my mind what will soon be here, then quickly disappear, a moment in time when what was, what is, what will soon be. But will it live on in the waiting room of my memory? Perhaps my mind will reveal to me what is to be.

Tuesday, December 25, 2007


Wrecking crews in denim blues rip slums up by their roots.
Others plant the project seeds to fill the beggars boots.
This is the patent process of a city's life and death.
New life is born to barren earth as ancients gasp for breath.
The brick and mortar monsters fall bewildered to the ground.
Through the canyons of the city the painful sounds abound.
The orchestrated efforts of crews of muscled men,
Rip out the guts of ghettoes just to build them up again.
And like the rodent residents of ships that sink at sea.
Scum who teem in tenements ooze from the heaped debris.
Trucks, like farting behemoths, squat near the dead remains.
Like about in disarray like scattered human brains.
A crew of swarthy swearing men wearing frozen scowls,
Pile mounds of excrement from constipated bowels.
The grime of grubby living disappears from sight
Into a grave-like dumping ground of manufactured blight.
All slums are born of poverty, depravity and sin.
They slam the door on decency, welcome evil in.
The pressured life of people poor and hungry all the time,
Induce despair and desperation, cruelty and crime.
Buildings jammed together, no breathing space between,
Deny the eye to see the sky and fields of flowing green.
And like dented garbage cans where rats and maggots play,
The human logs of lethargy sleep late on Judgment Day.
What a ray of sunshine, a breath of country air,
A decent wage, a place to play, a happiness to share,
Might mean to human herds who sleep within these walls,
And move about like cattle in overcrowded stalls.
In cities everywhere stand poor souls in the street
Cringing, cowering, crying, accepting sure defeat.
Like all the helpless millions who have no right to choose
Skeletons in rotting flesh await the wrecking crews.

Saturday, December 22, 2007


When I was young and couldn't sleep I'd commence to count sheep. After three or four jumped the fence I'd buzz and snore till way past dawn. Then I'd rise, rub my eyes, scratch any place I please, stretch and kvetch, get up, have a cup or two of home-brew Joe. Then, wide awake, I'd be ready to take on a world that waits for me, the bright eyed guy of industry.

Now I'm old and tired and the desired snooze I sure can use refuses to let me lose myself in sleep. Like I did when just a kid, I resort to the sport of counting sheep. As numbers rise, to my surprise, absurd herds of wooly beasts stampede at speed faster than I can calculate in my wide awake sleepy state.

As I lie in bed, my eyes bulging in my head, the leader of the pack, a big black sheep, takes a giant leap and with a bah-bah-bah and a hoo-hee-hah flops on my mattress next to me. "Shut your eyes, go to sleep," he sighs..

I roll to my side, say goodnight and fell asleep next to my friend, the big black sheep. But the sheep begins to snore, peacefully, counting my family. When he reaches one hundred two I pull his wool and say quite cruel, "Your uncle is a mixed breed, your dad was rotten cotton to the core. Why your silky sweet sister married that sap, a former burlap potato sack, I'll never know'"

"There's lot of artificial fiber on your family tree," sleepy sheep says to me. ."Rumor is, your brother's a closet polka-dot; Your father was part of a plaster cast, Your mother has a checkered past. And who are you? A former blue serge suit full of bullet holes and pockets packed with stolen dinner rolls,"

Which only goes to show that men and sheep are clothes relatives, skin deep and cheap.

Friday, December 21, 2007


Jake the Snake played patty-cake with Jenny Centipede. He had no hands, she had many toes and so it goes, she won every round, feet down.
Jake didn't care. He felt the game was fair and square. Fair for he got lots of tail and she had more-so torso.

One day Jake said to Jenny: "For goodness sake, you eat too much patty-cake, When you get a belly I get the shakes. I'm a rattler. I should I should rattle. I think that you are getting fattle."

Jenny replied: "It's not due to cake or calories. The last time we played patty-cake you made love to me I ovulated all over the lake. Soon you're going to be the proud Daddy of a snakeapede.. Jake and Jennie wed, spent all their time in bed, created whole new breed of snakeapedes.

The offspring thing their hot sex got a lot of notoriety. The International Society of Reptilian Variety urged a surge for squirmy worms and wiggling sperms to merge with other crawling creatures. Alas, it came to pass, that a new breed of snake in the grass evolved with hands and feet and other features and, eventually, the sneaky snaky asp in the grass.

All growing things decreed they too would do what with who and nothing was tablou between two who wanted to. Flowers, trees, birds and bees, nuts and seeds, even lowly weeds, all edible vegetables came a cropper with improper shapes and sizes that offered big surprises.

Long, sexy carrots and fat foot-long cukes nestled between big, round cantaloups and squirted apple juice on dried up beans and mustard greens, There were variations and mutations that developed close relations, monkeys with donkey ears, giraffes that laughed like hyenas and shed alligator tears and beets sprouting cow-like teats and human feet, a walrus that walked, a turtle that talked, an ant with antlers.

The list goes on just because Jake the Snake played pattty-cake with
Jenny Centipede.

Monday, December 17, 2007


The fickle political pundits really don't know what this race to replace the Party of Disgrace is all about. While trying to figure out who will win and who will lose and who will wear the president's shoes, the fools rely on rules and schools and history to unravel the mystery at a time when events made more sense.

They make predictions based on flawed summations and prevarications found in long outdated books. This presidential race presents a lot of firsts, not in man's thirst for power more than money. There's always been too much of that. It's the plethora of liars and cheaters and self deniers who'd rather set the world on fire than fulfill their desire for peace on Earth.

What they don't understand, this is a race for our survival, not just a contest to decide the next arrival on the Washington scene. After the Mean Machine, the obscene rape of a land once free, a sweeping change of leadership is an absolute necessity.

It must be said that the survivors of the dead in near and far-flung places wear faces of perpetual blood stained pain as they meet each tomorrow alone with endless sorrow Guardians of democracy, freedom and liberty stand by helplessly as rebel troops slay innocents haphazardly. And bit by bit the fields of greenery are disappearing from our scenery,

What is happening to this world and all the people in it? In the moment of time we mortals are granted on this planet could we hope for more than misery? To rise each day to friendly skies and dream at night of apple pies and multi-colored butterflies and lollypops and spinning tops and giggling girls playing hopscotch in the park.

This is how the world should live and this is the gift our government should give. This world of vice and avarice could one day be a Political Paradise.


If you've tried and tried, but can't decide who should get your vote just take note of those who lied and how many GIs and innocent Iraqis have died---killed without just cause against all laws of decency---weigh the pros and cons of what's going on and you'll go to the polls on Election Day and vote Democrat for every candidate from dog catcher up to president,

If you still can't make a firm decision just think of the Dubya Wrecking Crew, all who should all be in prison' and common sense will dictate what party you should support in 2008. Forget the debates and what the opponents state they'll do if they're the winner.

The sinners on the Right might say they'll do this and they'll do that, but if you buy their lies be in for a big surprise. Don't be reigned in by their rhetoric, It's just another GOP trick so the Republicans can get the chance lo stick it to you after it's too late to change the vote you gave away on Election Day.

Of course there is no guarantee all the Democrats will comer through and do all they vowed to do. They'll really try. But if they fail it won't be because they lied. The GOP will try to block any nation saving legislation opponents propose,

It will take time to deal with all the crime the Bushniks have committed. Republicans did it. They won't admit it. We know I it's so. They've got to go! A solid, dedicated, determined liberal Left will do what's right.

Friday, December 14, 2007


Or any other full of beans in the Republicannery. They're all on loan from the clone factory and none of those GOPers on the run are even slightly satisfactory to undo all that Dubyadoodoo has done to everyone who loves the good old U. S. A.

Not Huck the schmuck from Arkansas who would rule by the law of the all wrong Right or Guilliani who doesn't know his fist from his fanny or any of those other wannabee sonnabees are worth a shucket of bit when you get right down to it.

Although they'd all like to disown Dubya and Dick who sent this nation up the crick they're each a clone of the Terrible Terrorist Two and the Bush Catastrophe Crew who are out to destroy the Red, White and Blue.

The truth be known, they ain't got no more religion than a poor and hungry pigeon, but they preach the gospel that it's possible to turn our democracy into a theocracy by dint of slick talking hypocrisy. If the GOP steals the vote once again the country will no longer be run by men, but by just one man, a president/dictator of a democratic/autocratic state.

Do you want to wage a perpetual war and encourage the rage of nations near and far, deal with the displacement of millions of refugees banging at our door, pay an ever mounting mountain of taxes to the axis of evil we could become? If so, you know where you can go.

If you want to worship as you please, be free of bigotry and enjoy the fruits of peace and liberty, you know where you should stay. We've had the bitter taste of eight years of GOP. It's up to you. Let's rewrite the menu!

Monday, December 10, 2007


This is not just another political campaign to select and elect a president. We're engaged in an all-out war---Humanity Against Insanity. We have a choice: do we want a voice in the future of civilization or are we willing to submit to four, maybe eight more years, of death and devastation by masters of disaster in a plot to rob us what we've still got of our fading democracy?

Are we simply willing to aid another enemy by submitting to the powers of an out of control Right Wing Christianity where dictatorship will take us on a one-way trip of no return?

How could voters choose another loser who promises this and that when he's just talking through his hat, saying he knows where it's all at, when all the GOP defective intelligence could not qualify for one elective president?

We, the people, sent a ten cent mental case to the White House and now our future's faced with more of the same crap that put us in the trap we're in: Less Democracy, More Hypocrisy; Less Liberty, Less Freedom than we ever dreamed it could be. The GOP has just begun to finish the job that B and C and Company have already done.

The enemy has won and we've become a dumb, humdrum debtor nation wasting time and the taxpayer's dime debating over Creation versus Evolution, Abortion Rights against future over population blight, the greening of our civilization opposed to pollution and contamination, letting the climate broil while we burn more oil so the powers of fuel can become more powerful by the hour.

Are we just a bunch of lame-brained rabble building another Tower of Babble, a tribe in denial with a world on trial? We'd better wake up before it's too late and strive to save our sinking Ship of State.


Once upon a time there lived in the forest a little tree. It was no ordinary tree even though it looked like all the other little trees, It was an Evergreenberg tree. A Jewish tree.

The little Jewish tree had a problem. He wanted to grow up to be a Christmas tree. All the little Evergreens wanted to be Christmas trees when they grew up. It was all they talked and dreamed about during their saplinghood.

"It won't be long now," said one of the young Evergreens. "My branches are full and my trunk is straight. I'm sure I'll get the axe this season. I can hardly wait."

Little Evergreenberg asked: "Will they put you in a nice home and decorate you with pretty lights and put an angel on your tippy-top?"

"Of course," said his young Evergreen friend. "But I think I'm destined for bigger things. I may even end up in the village square. Then all the people will gather around me and sing Christmas carols."

Little Evergreenberg grew very sad. Being a member of a minority wasn't easy. He sagged his branches and cried. An elderly Evergreenberg wiped his tear-stained branches and asked: "What troubles you, my son?"

"I want to be a Christmas tree," little Evergreenberg sobbed.

"How can you say such a thing? You, a Jewish tree, want to be a Christmas tree? My son, God made you Jewish and a Jewish tree you shall always be."

"But it's so hard being a Jewish tree in a gentile forest. If I can't be a Christmas tree could I be a Hanukah bush?"

Old Evergreenberg was astonished. "A Hanukah bush? For shame! We Evergreenbergs are a proud family of Jewish trees. We will never assimilate! A Hanukah bush is only a Christmas tree in kosher clothing. If you become a Hanukah bush what is to prevent the next generation of Jewish trees from converting to Gentile trees? That would be the ultimate in assimilation. Before you knew it there would be no more Evergreenbergs in the forest, only Evergreens."

Old Evergreenberg looked up into the heavens. "Dear Lord," he prayed, "forgive this Jewish sapling. He knows not what he says, It is not his fault he cannot see the forest for the Jewish trees."

Wednesday, December 05, 2007


ON THOSE WHO proclaim the infamous name Republican! How can you still hail this failed lame fiction of a president, this totally incompetent sadistic addict of self-destruction of a once proud democracy and peace into a land of mediocrity and less---a total mess, to say the least.

I heap equal contempt on scardycat Democrats. They're not exempt to any extent for their shared greed and cowardice in support of the GOP. They'll share the guilt who will pay the price for ill-conceived war that cost the U.S. more in dollars and death than this obscene, mean world has ever seen. For all the tragedy of today we, our children, our children's children will pay and pay beyond the end of Judgment Day.

Way back when just a few knew enough to talk tough about this big-mouthed brainless bluff we were accused of spreading doom and gloom. We were right, they were wrong. They kept singing the same old song, went along with the Commander in Thief who committed crimes beyond belief---he, with the nation's complicity, stole the presidency, not once but twice. The weak and meek turned the other cheek, said "Be nice. Respect our unelected president."

Respect this reject? Not then. Not now. Not until the cows come home from Kingdom Dumb! This college bum. This C-grade scum. This rum-soaked bon-of-a- sitch. This product of the filthy rich. Those who have finally seen the light say get rid of him right now. Somehow this must be done so we can begin to turn around all this clown is guilty of. Feel no compassion, no love. Hate? Yes hate for this enemy of the state.

There are those who cry: Why rehash what's past? Forget, forgive and move on. Be of cheer. He'll be gone in a year. What more can he do?


No matter how low Dubya's ratings go he retains power of the veto. He can always say "No!" to Democrats who propose laws he opposes that threaten his authority. He can disobey laws just because he's still president. He did it in the past and can do it over and over again to the last minute of his insane reign.

Should we give this disgrace to the human race a chance to save face? He doesn't deserve it. Give him time in jail and make him serve it. He started a war where thousands died. Bush can run but he can't hide. Lock him up, throw away the key. THREE CHEERS FOR DEMOCRACY!

These are the frightening facts. React! His dishonesty and irresponsibility caused our national debt to be one of the largest yet. It's constantly expanding, stands at $9.13 trillion and growing $1.4 billion every day. With each passing minute we're nearly one million deeper in it.

The clock tick-tock-ticks as Bush refuses to admit he's licked and won't end it quick. That makes me sick as more GIs are blown away and our treasury drained. Dubya and his dogmatic madness are insane.

If foreign nations cash in our bonds bonds our dollar will crash and we'll be has-beens in the world of wealth and democracy.

Keep this in mind as Dubya leaves us behind. When he goes in January 2009 we'll owe $10 trillion plus. Up and up it goes. When and where it stops nobody knows.

Sunday, December 02, 2007


How many times must voters hear the same old sick rhetoric? Rehashing bashing B. S. that not so bright speech writers write. The same thick-headed schtick that sticks to blah-blah-blah and ha-ha-ha and textbook gobble-de-gook to cook the goose of the worthy opposition politician.

Because he's got that presidential poise and employes all the toys the big boys enjoy, there's hope this dope will bloat the vote and sink the other party's boat come election day.

"We know what that dead head said, but what did he mean to say?" Confused, bemused, feeling abused, they'll vote for him anyway. He's damned dumb, ain't so smart, just an old gasser passer who kisses babies, lays the ladies, is probably headed for Hades. But he's paid his dues, is big on God and family, and sneers pleasantly.

He used to be hooked on broads and booze, but that's old news. Now he's taken the vow, been born again, goes to church, prays on Sundays religiously. So how can he lose?

So give three cheers for What's His Name, the candidate without a brain, a real dumb cluck with lots of luck, a payback hack who'll put us on the right track to wrack and ruin before he's through n' he'll be replaced by a good old Democrat. And that is that!