Sunday, June 27, 2010


Deep sea drilling in the Gulf is killing fish and fowl, many an industry and the world’s economies.

So why mess around with wells deep in the seas when energy sources abound in the ground, in the air and anywhere the sun shines bright, the wind blows day and night and our nose knows it’s right beneath our toes in garbage dumps, in waste pumped from toilet outlets and littered by pets who use the avenues to defecate.

And what about the zoos where elephants wear no pants and leave big gassy lumps of “you know what” that smells like hell but can, hear tell, become gas if what the pachyderm leaves behind is refined.

In fact. the end result of this act by all beasts big and small could reduce our use of fossil fuels an awful lot. So why let this excretion at completion go to pot when it can help a lot to solve the problems that we’ve got?

If that smelly stuff is not enough to call the Arab’s bluff, the nation’s got plenty natural gas to last twenty years or more and it won’t pollute our shores.

There are all sorts of sources and untapped forces we can employe so once more we’ll be able to enjoy a weekend at the shore, driving to the ice cream store, spending more for fun and game. Things will be the same as it was ‘way back when. Life will be good again. At last the past has passed.

Have no fear. The future's here to stay. Oil has it's day. Renewable fuel will be the rule. And a war-free world is finally a reality!

Wednesday, June 23, 2010


Dogs and cats, kangaroos and gnus, rhinoceroses and hippopotamuses, monkeys and donkeys and dozens of furry creature cousins who walk on all fours and communicate in barks or roars. Meows or varied bird song melodies and wear their winter coat whether the weather’s cold or hot they’re not considered as smart as we.

They can’t convey what they have to say in human language, hunt their meat and eat it raw without sandwiches on rye or pumpernickel with a pickle on the side.

If they became the same as us they’d drink booze while watching the morning news on Fox, check stocks on other channels, but would they still be identified and classified as “dumb animals?”

They walk on paws and scratch their head with claws because they have no fingernails to prove they’re stupid.

All fur bearing caring felines lick their young with loving tongues. Dogs bark commands and pups obey. They’re trained to prevent events of criminal intent by vagrants bent on burglary of private property. A bark in the dark in time might prevent a crime or so says this rhyme.

All animals have unique ways to display common sense and intelligence. Are they imbued with talents that compensate their inability to enunciate or communicate in human vocabulary?

If each species known had a language of its own---perhaps they do---would we be more like them or they like we? We no longer eat meat, pork or veal, fish or foul or the fat old owl if all their words contained a vowel? If all yammered in perfect grammar and stammered, stuttered or muttered alike and, to some extent, had a similar southern you all droll, how could you take a bite of steak or lamb chop of someone you met in a butcher shop? They might be a cousin twice removed or an uncle grandma disapproved.

Although the four-foot families came from different populations and some from foreign nations and pronunciations varied and some meats and fowl intermarried. If one spoke Ham and a mix breed Spam, the New Yorkers were at ease communicating in a blend of Japanese, Chinese and Brooklynese would we know what they were talking about?

When the ethnic mixes met they talked so loud you couldn’t spell the words you heard them use or abuse. I wish they all spoke English, If they did, but hid it now and then as a hen and spoke foul Fowl and a duck made a nasty crack in Quack, would we lack the knack to answer back? If all agreed they’d never eat their kin vegetables would be in and dominate their diet. We meat lovers would try it and we’d all become more fit.

But meat eaters eat meat and fish gulp whatever fish they wish and fowl ask the wise old owl what’s for din and he asks who?

This fantasy is calorie free so let it be.

Sunday, June 20, 2010


As a senior citizen who has reached the age of 87, a year closer to Heaven. or wherever we go after we’re no longer here, I worry what will be for those who survive after we are gone.

I am not a lawyer or physician, a CEO or politician or anyone in a position to leave a multimillion dollar legacy to my family. I’m just a guy who worked to pay his way with a little help from the SSA, the VA and an investment or two to see me through.

I lost a bundle on the bubble, got out of trouble on a boom, survived through doom and gloom. Made a bit, lost it, quit Dow Jones, avoided loans, lived bare bones.

I’d like to know before I go if the market’s on the mend, there are fewer catastrophes like oil spills, incurable ills, unreasonable doctor bills. Let national health not lose its battle with greed and selfish wealth and let us say a prayer for cleaner air and pollution free waterways and better days for all humanity.

Will there be no more wars? Will electric powered cars eliminate the need to sate big oil’s greed? Will seniors live longer? Will the young grow stronger? Will there be more joy for every girl and boy? Will people embrace with a smile on every face?

Will all lands join hands to expand research in outer space? Will we find answers to cures for cancer and every other dread disease?

Will the flowers and trees, the birds and bees, the creatures on land and in the seas live oil free? Will the rains be gentle and the wind be a breeze? These are things I pray will be for every one. You who follows every Me in the search for a truly human humanity.

When this better world becomes a reality I’ll be ready to enter eternity, confident I spent my years on Earth worthy of my right to be part of the Heavenly community.

Thursday, June 10, 2010


Foreign nations demand the upper hand when it comes to land with sand awash in oil and soil where pot grows like the cultivated weed and is what addicts believe they need, that or speed. A daily dose of angel dust or just enough other stuff to puff, shoot or sniff in their snoot or mix with a fix of this and that.

Even with growing addiction there will be plenty to export so pushers and puffers have nothing to fear until they die in a year or two from an overdose, abuse or playing loose and using too much juice as an excuse.

Your time could be growing close. So have a ball while you can until the Grim Reaper man puts an end to it all.
* * *
Don’t let dope be your last hope of trying to cope with all the woe that’s got you low.
You know it’s so. You you can lick the quick fix making you sick if you say goodbye to the temporary high. The alternatives: YOU LIVE or YOU DIE!

Monday, June 07, 2010



Once upon a future time which will probably never be and the WE I occasionally refer to is officially not included in my pre-earth vocabulary.

Commentary on the history of the disappeared universe, detailed in fact and fiction, or predictions predicted on definable, unreliable convoluted convictions are written without restrictions because their unreliable improbable provability begs the question, What the hell am I writing about? And what difference it make? Let’s just take a break and have an unbaked piece of coffee cake with a cup of un brewed coffee peeping hot. Or popping hot? Or pooping hot? Why not?

Writing something about nothing is easy to do especially when you don’t have to prove the untrue is untrue.