An Arcturian's Evaluation

Uxetar beamed aboard on his Arcturian space vessel.  He would miss some of the friends he had made on Earth, during his 142nd year old study of the inhabitants on the blue planet, below, but he missed the serenity of his own home and his Arcturian companions.  After 142 Earth years of observation of the human species, Uxetar had suddenly materialized on the transport platform, realizing what he would miss most about the human contactees he had associated himself with and what he wouldn't miss. His feelings, statistics and observations were all in his report.

Another Arcturian appeared before him.  Ogaim was another fellow Arcturian.  He was a bit smaller than Uxetar and his skin was more of a greenish hue in color.  Uxetar, realizing he was still in human form, morphed into his natural form and more closely resembled the appearance of an Arcturian.  Ogaim welcomed him to step closer to the holographic image of Earth which was positioned in the middle of the science room of the space vessel.  Ogaim was acutely interested in what Uxetar was about to present to him and hear his evaluation.

Before Uxetar could begin to go over his evaluation, Ogaim looked at the live image of Earth and calmly stated, "Look. Another war on Earth."

Uxetar said, "Most likely the end result of a group of people saying something perceived as being negative towards another group of people and their god or idea during the present era."

Ogaim replied, "Or the violence could be over natural resources or a cover for the real reason to make war with another nation."

"With this planet's inhabitants, you can never tell for sure until you read the minds of the handlers who hold the power and hoard the money for their own agendas," explained Uxetar.

Uxetar continued, "Most of the species do not engage in violent action every day.  Some of them, during different intervals of their lifetimes engage, by word or actions, positive notions, expressions of themselves and activities.  They do this by helping the less fortunate by sheltering or feeding them.  Holding a person's hand to comfort them.  Showing signs of concern for animals and caring for them.  I could go on.  But this is all in my evaluation, as you will read."

"I really like the humans who are artistic and have a sense of humor, as well," Uxetar pointed out.  He showed Ogaim, the senior scientist on the Arcturian space vessel, a video clip.  Uxetar said, "Take this dance routine, for example.  It combines both elements of human artistic expression.  Uxetar giggled, aloud, at Ogaim's facial expressions as they watched the video.

This is what Uxetar showed Ogaim:



Uxetar patted his fellow Arcturian on the back and said, "Sometimes their odd and humorous antics can have you overlooking their grievous flaws.  Their sense of humor and other genuinely sensitive attributes benefit one another, greatly."

Ogaim looked over at Uxetar and said, "Well, their forms of entertainment and levity have changed, quite substantially, since I was last dwelling with them nearly 400 earth years ago for my own study period.  That much is certain."

Uxetar leaned over to the right and cut a long, sputtering fart.  Afterwards, he stared at Ogaim and smiled.

Ogaim said, "But that form of entertainment and amusement isn't new."

Grinning for a bit, Ogaim once again regained his serious composure.

He asked Uxetar, "Now tell me about their negative aspects and actions."

Uxetar folded his three fingered hands and glanced down at his report on the table.

With a look of solemn discernment on his face, Uxetar explained, "The more generally violent types of humans might use weapons of mass destruction, in the near future, in the name of their religion or their lack of resources and/or their ideology. Also, large groups of people in a nation have been told lies, repeatedly, as well, until the lies are believed by the majority under the cover of a patriotic redundant chant and thought.  Instead of doing their own thinking and giving themselves a reality check, so to speak, they will do the bidding of the great money and power holders of the world and go to war with a militarily weaker country.

Many people over many of the wars fought during my 142 years of observation there have died for incomprehensible reasons that have never really been revealed to those who fight or rally behind the fighters until a small time has passed or after they have died and been forgotten.

The money and power holders and behind the scenes corrupters "pull the strings" of many majorities on Earth, so to speak.  Meanwhile, there are those who know the truth and are content with distracting themselves with being a part of a rigid system of laws, some of which, lack sense, and acceptable rules of behaviors they have placed upon themselves, their obsessions with their workplace, their idle entertainments, their electronic gadgets and more.  Then you have those that absolutely don't care what is happening to them or their loved ones.  Still, there are few who know the reality of their mass group situation and attempt to cause a positive outcome so all will benefit.  And then you have a few Earth inhabitants who don't know their assholes from table lamps."

Ogaim looked at his friend, Uxetar and said, "One can tell you've spent a considerable amount of time on Earth, Uxetar.  Your unique expressions give you away."

Ogaim smiled.  Uxetar shrugged, smiled and then said, 'Shit happens when you spend so much time in one place."

Uxetar continued by saying, "One of their greatest, widely ignored threats, however, is global warming and climate change.  Those who have control of the upper echolons of status, which is fueled by power and money, ultimately persuade or threaten those would could easily tell the truth of their situation and move in a positive direction, away from fossil fuel dependence and other pollutants that damage the Earth's atmosphere and create chaos with the weather patterns.  They are experiencing, as I'm sure you're well aware from our space vessel's scanner and computers, volatility and more extremities in their weather during the last one hundred years."

Ogaim said, "Yes, it is extremely noticeable to me and most likely to anyone living down on Earth."

Uxetar shook his head and replied, "Yet they still choose to engage in ignorant behavior with these wars, their destructive polluting of the air they and their children breathe and the greed which induces them to erratic, damaging actions."

Ogaim stated, simply, "Uncommon self destructive behavior for such a species that has advanced technologically, throughout the centuries, with their level of intelligence."

Uxetar replied, "But not uncommon for those who possess such intelligence yet are not emotionally advanced enough to balance their technology."

"Still," Uxetar claimed, "They may unite one day when they are on the brink of extinction.  We've seen it many times before with other inhabitants on an alien planet.  Whether they are too late to undo the damage, change course and seriously rethink their goals and agendas remains to be seen."

Ogaim quietly replied, "One hopes they will realize what is important in their lives and unite for their own well being and divert extinction."

Ogaim reminded himself that it was against their Arcturian nature to directly change the course of another planet's inhabitants.  Humans would have to learn, adapt and change on their own.  In time, the Humans might embrace peace, instead of war and work together to conquer their worldwide ills.  Both Ogaim and Uxetar still held a small amount of hope for this to occur.

Uxetar thought of all the accumalitive friends he had made on Earth, during his 142 Earth years there with them, remembering their thoughtful gestures, wise words, love, good humor and nodded, in remembrance and in agreement with what Ogaim had just said.  The Arcturian wished them well and gave Ogaim the entire evaluation.

An Interview With Myself (Part Two)

Yes, this is the long awaited, highly anticipated sequel masterpiece widely known as PART TWO of INTERVIEW WITH MYSELF.  Note, I did not just say I was playing with myself.  I know how you could be confused by that.  Especially if you were retarded. Besides, if I were doing that, I would not be able to type because it takes a big man like yours truly in order to fully pleasure himself with TWO BIG HANDS.  My own, of course.  Not the three hundred pound guy in the apartment below me.  His forearms looks like he has muscled up by doing a lot of "wanking the weenie" all day and all night.  No wonder I hear so much grunting and coughing below me.  I think the guy smokes a couple cigs after he's done sapping his milk duds, and plays Lynryd Skynrd's "Freebird" when he finishes.

After one particular session, I thought I heard him say "Ta-Da!"

Personally, I've never been able to tolerate Lynryd Slynrd that much, no matter how much I stroke the skin flute.

Ah, well.

Here's the second part of the interview with myself.  Enjoy!

Inquisitor Kelly: Why did you pick the name "Psycho Carnival" for the name of your blog?

Honest Kelly: It seemed like the most appropriate name.  Really, Psycho Carnival started out as an underground newspaper.  Underground newspapers were little newspapers or pamphlets that were regarded as subversive, anti-establishment type reading, in some circles.  Some of these were artsy fartsy and/or loaded with hand drawn cartoons. Some had radical views to a majority of people.  Some just wanted to voice an honest opinion on today's society.  That's were I come in.

Here are some copies of the old Psycho Carnival.  Sold 'em for 2 bucks a pop at a few bookstores. I didn't create them from scratch for profit- but to get my own ideas out there- across the country.  Which I did.  It was fun and I felt fulfilled.

Enlarge the image to see all the nooks, crannies and various goodness.  Appreciate the awesome handmade artwork-  completely computer-free design, as your own personal deity intended it to be.. or something.

Btw, I started my paper, Psycho Carnival, long before there was a band by the same name.  But I didn't have the zine, as they were often called, copyrighted and frankly, I didn't care that they came up with the same name- whether it came from me or their own minds.  Whatever. 

Underground newspapers got their start in the 60's and 70's but were still semi-popular in the 80's and 90's. 

I started writing, drawing and creating (stapling and pasting) my own underground newspaper (Psycho Carnival) in May 1996, using paper, pen, pencil and a word processor, several years before personal computers became widely popular.  Computers were just starting to become a household item when I started my paper- but since I wasn't trendy, rich and didn't want my underground newspaper all fancy shmancy like those other candy-ass papers were, like some were in the 90's, I did my own thing, like I always have done.

This blog is an extension of that underground newspaper.  I started the blog, late in the year of 2007. 

On the back of each issue of old Psycho Carnival newspaper or zines, as they were called, which I continued to author for three years, would be a poem I wrote.  It was one of many I have written in my lifetime.  Check it out below my joyful artwork!

I drew this and included it in a special edition of my underground newspaper.  It is a scene of my often appearing character, Jeepo the Clown, entertaining a guest.  Please enlarge to completely enjoy the gentle nuances of my delicate, merry artwork.  

Enlarge, in case your peepers have trouble reading the delightful poem.  The smoking monkey, by the way, is symbolic of humankind's follies and bad habits.

Inquisitor Kelly: Do you write other stories, besides what some would call "naughty" tales?

Honest Kelly: Yeah, I do write in other genres but for some odd reason, people get hung up on or notice the stories of sexual situations more.  I have written mega-loads (don't get too excited when I say that) of stories that are science fiction, drama, humor and so much more.  I guess it's more of that sexual repression type stuff that only goes on in the minds, for the most part, of the American public.  In Europe,  they don't have much of a problem with this.

I gotta add that I think we're a country full of hypocrites that have their concerns and priorities misplaced.  Violence is considered okay and often celebrated by our culture.  Going to war on a country whose people we don't know or care enough to understand is as accepted as easily as Mom's apple pie and baseball here.  But sex elicits raised eyebrows, angry rants, silence and shame, instead.  How backwards is that?  Violence is a flag we proudly fly.  I consider the act of violence a hell of a lot more disgusting than the act of making love to someone.  Blowing someone you don't know or understand to bits, either up close and personal or by a military drone- now that is SICK. 

To me and quite a few people, the sex act is an act that is funny, itself, really... so I often add humor along with it.  The thought of two or three or a mob of people grunting and groaning and putting themselves in all sorts of positions to get their rocks off paints a silly scenario in my mind.  Don't get me wrong!  Sex can be romantic- but often times, it includes these animal type scenarios that emulate monkey hi-jinx, at times.

For the record, the "Toadie" series of stories, I've written for this blog in the past, aren't something I came up with because I enjoy making fun of mentally challenged people.  If people were to actually closely read those stories, they would note that the character, Toadie, who seems mentally challenged, isn't really that way and that he may be putting on an act, considering what he will say later on in an episode that reveals his true self.  Meanwhile, the people around him are easily duped.  That can come in quite handy for him.

Inquisitor Kelly: What would it take to get people in this world on the right track and not continuing it's seemingly downward spiral?

Honest Kelly: Understanding between people who might seem different than us until we get to know them.  Putting back bank regulations.  Stop communicating so much with electronic hand held devices (cell phones, IPads, IFux or whatever throwaway gadget they're called).  It's so sad that we are a "throwaway" society on pretty much anything that's bought.  Whenever a new "upgraded device" comes out, people will cheerfully buy it instead of, oh, I don't know, wasting it on someone who is hungry or homeless or some other positive purpose.

 Forget about distractions like reality shows and silly tabloids.  Cease being a conformist.  Stand up and take responsibility for your actions and for cryin' out loud, stop denying what's happening in the world.  Fairy tales are for children.  In fact, I think we should start preparing kids, when they are young with how things are so they don't get blasted in the face with reality when they get older.  Speak out against what is obviously wrong instead of waiting for someone else to do it.  Stop polluting this world as if we have some other planet to land on, inhabit and slowly or quickly destroy.  Opening one's mind.  Those are just a few things off the top of my head.  Thanks for asking.  That was, like, totally unexpected of you. 

    

Inquisitor Kelly: Describe yourself!

Honest Kelly: I think I'm a man that has many contradictory traits to his personality.  I don't think I'm bi-polar, by any means.  But I have strong opinions and strong passions for certain things that seem to contradict myself.  I'm not boasting when I say I'm complex, but it's the truth.  I'm still surprised by people who have known me since childhood.  One of the worst things you can do to me, personally, is make assumptions.  People have done that to me all of my life for idiotic reasons and, unfortunately, I do have to address some assumptions (lies)  and set the truth straight out there.  If I don't, it has led to more trouble than I care to talk about. 

Personally, I don't give a rat's ass, though. 

In all honesty, I think I lost a part of myself when my mother passed away.  I was a shadow of my former self for a very long time.  Still am, but not as much.  I attended therapy and was prescribed anti-anxiety and anti-depression pills that work for me now.  It took awhile to find the right ones that were a "good fit" for me.  It takes awhile for some people to find the suitable pills because they'll sometime have drastic side effects with these pills.  Anyway, I could confide in Mom with everything.  She would listen, non judgmentally and answer a question- only if I asked.  She loved me, unconditionally.  She passed away 7 years ago.  I miss her love, twisted humor and our talks about ANYTHING under the moon and the stars.  My Aunt Kay, sister and wife can sometimes fill in the deep void in my life but they, honestly, can't come as close as that.

With this comes the responsibility I share with my sister of taking care of Dad, who has vascular dementia and other maladies too long to list.  Even though he's in an assisted living place, he still has to be taken to doctor appointments and he still wants to be taken out to eat.  And he's still angry, verbally abusive, threatening and you can never just visit him without him wanting you to take him somewhere.  I recently put 200 miles on my odometer as we got lost three different times during the day.  He refused to be taken anywhere else but this one particular Cracker Barrel restaurant.  This is just a small sampling of what we have to go through. He also constantly loses his extra body parts, including, but not all mentioned: hearing aids, dentures, glasses, canes and so on.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to take care of my wife who has severe high blood pressure, arthritis and much much more.   My own malady list goes on forever and ever so I won't bother to start.  Besides, I've written all about it before.  Excuse me for a moment.  I have to shoot insulin into my belly.  Be right back.  :)

Though I still suffer from depression and disease time to time, I'm still able to find the humor and positive aspects of life, despite what I'll sometimes put on this blog or my Facebook wall.  I think people don't look closely enough at a person, in order to try to get to know them, at least, to some degree.  What a shame!  For me.  For others.  Everyone.   

Inquisitor Kelly: What's the weirdest thing that's happened to you, lately?

Honest Kelly: Well, for this scorchingly hot summer, there was a woman in her early forties, in a tank top and pair of shorts, sitting on her ten speed bicycle.  She would be sitting on her bicycle for hours and hours at the end of our road.  I would go to the store, for awhile or go to the park or wherever.  When I'd come back.  Sure enough, she would still be there.  I wanted to roll down my window and ask her if she was okay because she looked like she was going to cross out onto the side of road to ride her bike, even though when there wasn't any traffic, but she would just sit there, instead and quietly wait.  Every so often, she did a little circle ride at the end of our road but she wouldn't travel further.

I thought something was wrong with her, maybe mentally, but wasn't sure.  Maybe, I thought, she was just afraid to take her bike out and ride it along the side of the road.  I never asked. 

I come to find out from my wife, from the neighbors and what my wife witnessed herself, that this woman was a prostitute.  My wife caught her bobbing her head up a down on some guy in a car at what used to be a dentist's office nearby.  The dude had his head leaned back, in apparent ecstasy.  I guess he was giving the ol' girl some free toothpaste.  :)  I bet she could have used some real toothpaste, a pint of mouthwash and medical attention for any diseases she might carry.

The neighbors told us that guys would pull up along the side of her bike, talk to her a bit and then get out to put her bike in their trunk.  And then, away they went off to somewhere, for awhile, before returning her to the end of the road.  Then she did the "wait on a bike" routine again.

On several occasions, she was found to be wearing a sign around her neck during those skin blistering days.  The sign read, in big bold lettering: Pick me up!  I'll make you happy!

There was a smiley face next to the word "happy."  A couple neighbors in our apartment complex said she was mentally challenged.  No kidding, I thought.  The sitting out in nearly 100 degree weather with an obvious sign around her neck didn't give that detail away at all.

These days, I don't see her... anywhere.  Maybe the police finally picked her up.  Maybe she's in a mental institution.  Who knows?  In any case, she's off the end of our road and we still have a bunch of neighborhood kids who still, gleefully, carelessly, play out in the middle of the entire length of our road with their balls and bikes and toys, not giving a shit if they get ran over or not.  Btw, all of these kids have medium sized front and back lawns and big driveways.  The parents, of course, still put signs out near the road, declaring that we should all slow down for the sake of their children.

Yeah, and people still like to tell me that people are okay.  lol.  Take care, everyone!  I'll be taking a blog break for awhile.  Hopefully, I will blog yet again next month, sometime.  Btw, would you care to try my free toothpaste?  Just thought I'd ask because... as I've often said... I CARE A LOT.

An Interview With Myself (Part One)

During the last post, regarding newly given awards and "amazing predictions", I said was going to skip over the rule about naming the seven most important events in my life or some shit like that.  Since I, ahead of time, knew I would be doing this bit, I figured why bother.  It would be repetitious and with this present post, possibly a two parter, if I get too chatty or start rambling on about this or that, then posting up those seven amazing moments would make it seem I've got the ego the size of Donald Trump's or Mitt Romney's own ego.  And who wants to see that?  Gosh, certainly not magnificent lil' ol' me.

As the title suggests, I will be interviewing myself, revealing things I may have mentioned before here, some things I've never revealed, but also adding some clarification to misconceptions.  I'll also be adding some traces of sardonic or dry humor that some individuals may or may not perceive, successfully, depending on how sharp of mind that being is.  Not that I'm putting anyone down for having the intelligence quotient well below a snail's turd- but there have been times when I've read the comments on my blog or ones I've read on other's blogs and I've found it somewhat disconcerting to realize there's more than a few, uh, how should I put this in polite terms... mmm... dumbasses out there?

But, being the helluva guy I am, I'm throwing caution to the wind and going on with the show.  I want to inform you, my friends, entertain you and gently coddle you like tiny baby birds in a wasp's nest, keeping you feeling all warm and secure, inside and out.  No shocking diatribes, sarcasm and crude humor found in this humble abode of mine, I can assure you.  I certainly wouldn't do that to get an individual's attention to make one simple, friggin' point.

Ahh... there I go again with the friendly, idle chit chat.  On with the interview:

Inquisitor Kelly:  What's with the clowns?  Everyone believes you have this vested interest with clowns because of the heading on your page.  It's loaded with repeated images of clowns.  Are you afraid of clowns?  Do they arouse you, in some undetermined way?  A lot of folks, on and off this blog, have brought this "highly interesting' subject up time and time again and have this deep desire to know what's up with that.

Honest Kelly: I really don't care one way or another about clowns, actually.  When I conferred with the co-designer of the web page's layout, a couple years ago, she suggested that I keep the image of the clown from my old layout to use with this layout.    Her daughter even drew me up a jazzy, nifty looking clown and I have kept it on the blog ever since.  Why clowns?  I agreed for the sake of keeping with the theme of the blog.  Not because I like clowns or want to, hopefully, fuck one so hard in the ass one day that it's bright red colon explodes- but because of practical reasons. And to be truthful, I think every human being is a clown, just at different levels.  Some are more obvious than others.   Because of the clown question, it was, at one point, tiresome to read the same question over and over about it.  I didn't give a shit enough to give a reason for it.  Even now, I just don't care.  In fact, knowing that this insignificant image on my page supposedly frightens people, as I've heard it does with some freaks.. I mean... people... amuses me a tiny bit.

That goes for the black background on my site.  Some people say it's too hard to read my words on a post I'll put up.  To them I say, I like the black background.  Black matches the sometimes dark themes I bring up during my rants and stories on my charming blog.  I won't change it for anyone or for any reason.  Not for more followers.  Not for more hits on my pages.  In truth, the opinions of most people mean less than nothing to me.  This is because I'm too old, too wise and have had enough experience to imbue myself with the knowledge that people basically want things their way because they are selfish and narrow-minded.  Not to mention uptight and stupid.  Thanks for asking. 

Inquisitor Kelly: What was your childhood like?  Were you a normal kid?  Or were you a rowdy, screaming monkey child or what?

Honest Kelly: I grew up poor.  I lived in an old, four room, white-paneled house on farm land.  The cistern we drank out of, we found out later on, had quite a few dead and half-dead albino frogs in the water.  We didn't have a shower.  We poured buckets of water over our heads and washed with that water (which I think was from a creek up the hill) in a hand made metal stall my dad had built.

I had a swing and a tire on an apple tree I played on.  I also had a black and white cat named Pepsi, a German Shepherd named Happy and I often talked to an old large apple tree, out of loneliness, boredom and because I had a fertile imagination.  Finally, 6 years later, my sister was born.  I played with her toys, rode bikes with her and played with my own collection of Hot Wheels cars.  Each one of my Hot Wheels cars had his or her own personal name and military rank.  The President was in love with the Secretary.  Sometimes, I made them kiss.  The apple tree, outside, often told me to kill the useless weeds in the yard (they were the enemy).  So that I did, with pure, delightful abandon and with a large stick I'd whip around, cutting them down like a warrior.

Down the road, we had neighbor kids that enjoyed peeing into each other's mouths, for sport and dry humping the wiener dog.  They locked me in their spider-filled, completely dark old basement once, for hours.  They would make Kool-Aid, on hot summer days and their mom would serve it to us kids in unwashed, food-encrusted glasses.  I'm surprised, to this day, I'm still alive.  I'm not kidding about any of those details and I've talked about them a couple times on this blog.  When I was six, I had no idea what they were doing to their dog.  Later, I put it together and figured it out.  All I knew was that it's little doggy eyes rolled to the back of it's head while it lay on the slab of concrete while one of the brothers cheered on the human kid fucking it.

I found out later that Happy, my dog, was a bad doggy to a vet.  Dad said he had ran off one day.  No explanation was given.  I was shocked and saddened when I was told that as a kid.  When I was 16, Dad told me that he had to "put Happy down" because Happy suddenly bit a big meaty chunk out of a vet's arm during one of Happy's regular vet appointments.  The vet told Dad Happy had to be put down or he would make sure Happy was euthanized.  The way Dad described it, it took several shots to his big furry canine head before Happy finally died.  Hearing this story did not make me happy.  But I understood the reasoning a little later.  Happy could have killed me, at some point and that's what they were afraid of.  During our play time together, though, he was a really friendly and honestly happy dog. 

On a happier note: I really enjoyed the walks mom and I would take down the old gravel road that was named after us because Dad had done so much work on it, himself.

Every week, it seemed, we would pay a visit or visits to my grandma and grandpa's farm down the old country lane.  I was mostly a very shy, quiet kid.  I played with my Aunt Kay.  I remember one particular time when we set white milk stools together, down on their sides on the floor, in a line and sat in the open spaces.  We pretended that we were riding in a train and made "choo- choo' noises.  Those were fun times.  My Aunt Kay, who was more of a sister to me, now and then, says that she used to bully me.  I don't know about that.  Maybe it's repressed memories.

She would play tricks on me, of course.  She was a little jealous of sweet lil ol' me because I was the "new baby",so to speak, of the family.  It had been her for awhile.  One time, she blindfolded me and told me to take a big bite out of this juicy apple she had in her hand.  So I did as she directed, as trusting and innocent as a kid I was.  But no, it was a tomato, not an apple.  I shouted, "Yuck!"  I quickly took off the blindfold.  When I saw the mushy pulp and seeds of the tomato I wanted to puke, preparing my taste buds, beforehand, for a sweet, juicy apple.  To this day, I won't eat a tomato.  They repulse me.  I'd rather lick a cow's taint than eat a fucking tomato.

Pretty visual, eh? 

Because I was shy, I often got bullied on the buses, as I grew up.  I didn't know you could be thought of as being "stuck up", too, for being quiet but I heard it whispered that, that was another reason I was bullied so horribly.  Four to five bigger kids would gang up on me and smash their hard back school books on the back of my head on the school buses.  A few would punch my face.  The school bus driver would watch the action, in his rear view mirror and do nothing.  He was famous for this.  Anytime there was a fight or bullying, he did nothing and reported nothing.  I was too ashamed to tell my parents about it so they more or less didn't know about it.

I made a few friends in grades 1-8 in parochial school.  They were a couple of "misfits", as well, because they would not be picked out for team sports and were quiet and whatever else kids (and for that matter, adults) would use- as an excuse to pick on them and I.

Speaking of bullies, that's a subject that really pisses me off on many levels.  With all this texting and facebooking gossip shit going on between kids, telling lies and being cruel, kids these days are really having a hellish time with bullying these days.  They sometimes end up killing themselves, in fact, from what you read in the paper and on the Internet.  It makes me sick.  I hear and see crap about gangs of girls kicking the shit out of other girls and I wonder what the hell kind of values are their parents teaching them. Even my niece is getting bullied by school girls, calling her names and filling up her locker full of tampons, of all things.  My sister didn't put up with it, of course.  She went to the principal and told him to get something done about it or else.  Because of her being pro-active, it has stopped.

These days, there are more and more school departments or people you can go to if you're on the receiving end of bullying, but more, clearly needs to be done about it.  Kids shouldn't be killing themselves and feeling like they're not worthy of the respect they should be given during the time they're in school or out of it.   

I read a lot of books when I was young.  I also wrote a lot of stories, mostly about my parakeets, cats and my dog.  A lot of vivid imagination and descriptive wording (not so much that it was shocking and it was never vulgar) went into them and I was told I was a very creative writer by my English teacher.  I liked the compliment as they were few and far between.  Unfortunately, I had a teacher who thought I had too vivid an imagination.  I never wrote anything perverted, if that's what you're wondering.  I was just a kid.  The teacher's name was Mrs. Patterson.  She was one of two or three teachers who wasn't a nun at the school by the old church- but she did fancy herself as an amateur psychologist.  She really thought she knew a lot about psychology.  The bitch even tried to suggest to my parents that there was something wrong with me.  My parents were young and didn't know any better (I was their first kid) so they tried to convince me there was something wrong with me, too and that I should seek counseling.  I think I was like ten years old at the time.  It was around this time, I found out I was half-deaf, due to all the ear infections I had as a kid.

I had a fit, cried quite a bit and it really caused me to question adults and their fucked up motives.  Before that, I was questioning the motives of adults because of all the violent news of the Vietnam war that would be shown on TV.  Even at the ripe old age of ten, I knew it was wrong and I thought, quite often, what kind of mess of beings have I been thrown into, without permission.  These fuckers are nuts.  Well, I didn't think in exactly those words I just used, but it close enough.  I did think adults and kids were really messed up- not just because they bullied me but because they seemed to be preoccupied by violence- on TV and everywhere else.

This is me, when I was a kid ( had blonde hair until I was six), plus another pic of mom and I, when I was older and we were fishing at the time: 

Later, I went to high school, joined Drama Class, wrote articles for the school newspaper, continued to write serious and humorous stories, acted in plays, had a poem published, went to a lot of parties, got drunk and fried and really started opening up to people and getting pretty wild, in general.  My personality changed quite a bit in high school.  I was the one who started trends without even meaning to do that.  In reality, just as I do today, I just do whatever I feel like doing- within reason.  I'm not a serial killer.  And I don't sodomize animals on Tuesdays.

I've never tried to be rebellious or a non-conformist type of person.  One friend suggested that I was trying to be that way on purpose once.  That made me laugh and I replied, "If you know anything about me, you know I'm honest about what I say and about my own actions- to a fault."  And he said, "Yeah... you're right," after thinking it over for a little while and recalling the years of our twenty year friendship.  I just feel like doing whatever fits for me.  The need, as it did when I was kid, to fit in, doesn't work for me.  I'm my own person.  To each person, I believe, they should go his or her own way.  To the rest of those who blindly follow without questioning, fuck 'em. 

Inquisitor Kelly:  Would you say adults who were bullies or even adults who weren't bullies when they were children, but are now, don't understand what effect they have on people?  And perhaps, in fact, don't give a shit about what effect they have on people? 


      

Honest Kelly:  I think there are many people or groups of people who fall under the category of "Bullydom."  It's funny you should ask me this, Kelly.  But maybe it isn't so odd, since you are, in fact, me.  I wanted to do a blog post on bullies for a long time now.  And now... look!  I finally made it here.  Looks like the subject is being intertwined within this interview, after all.  Ha ha ha.  I'm laughing to myself, literally, I suppose.

There are, indeed, adults who are bullies.  Sometimes they are parents who really shouldn't be breeding, having children and shouldn't be brainwashing them with their own distorted viewpoints, neither should there be bosses who abuse their hiring/firing, pay raising/lowering power, police officers that abuse their authority and corporate entities that squeeze money out of the middle class and the poor for their own profits and gains.

Corporations can be the worst of all evils and of all bullies because they try to control and bully us in our short, precious lives here on Earth by pushing us into corners we have no escape from.  Sometime, you might feel a temporary escape by taking an anti-depressant (which makes your misery profitable for big pharmaceutical companies) or by doing cocaine, drinking booze or worse (which makes it profitable for drug cartels and, in turn, for the DEA and law officers- if you do your research).

Let's face it!  If we didn't outlaw drugs, there would be a lot of space in those jails and prisons and then where would the states and the government make their money?  Hell, we might have to actually put it into schools to educate kids, pay teachers what they deserve, hire and keep firefighters, fix roads or some other practical purpose.  God forbid!

I see, in the future, tobacco products becoming completely illegal within the next twenty years.  This will be great news for organized crime and others.  Just like it was when they made weed illegal.  Read that entire story here.  It will either disgust you or shock you or both.  Or maybe you just don't care.  A lot of people don't care about their privacy and personal freedom, either.  Look around!  There are sheeple, everywhere!  People have always had the (un)natural "talent" of being able to ignore being shit on or becoming obedient slaves to a centuries old man made system. 

Btw, marijuana, being made illegal, was great news and carefully planned by folks like our government and rich, white assholes such as Harry J. Aslinger and William Randolph Hearst.  Both had vested interests, for their careers, to make weed out to be an addictive drug, capable of killing and driving one insane.  Nonsense!!!  

The silly 1930's flick, Reefer Madness, was nothing more than a propaganda film, intended to scare the public.  Instead, it's watched today as if it is an absurd comedy movie. Good ol' propaganda!  Kind of like drawing people into a war with a country, in the name of patriotism, that we have no business in being in- except to drum up business for rich white people in corporate hierarchies.  They have what we want!  Let's wage war on them!  We'll set up our democracy there, afterwards, to keep the profits rolling in.

Well gang, I'm getting pretty tired.  I have just enough energy to do a quick re-read of what I've written, take a quick piss and hit the bed sheets with my exquisite self.  I think I will continue the second part of this interview another time.  Hope you enjoyed it.  I have more to say, since I'm a rambler, but it will have to wait.

Inclement Weather and Inclement People

I know.  It's like I'm only barely eking out one damned post a month.  Let's just say I've been keeping busy and worrying a lot about personal problems going on in my life and leave it at that.  But then, what else is new, eh?  Would I like to say things are semi-fine or halfway tolerable?  Yep.  I sure would.  You may think me a pessimist or call me an alarmist but, really, I honestly try to bring harmony in my little part of world only have it it crushed, pulverized and throw back in my face like a messy, sticky wad of pre-chewed Goobers.

This is going to have to be one of those times where I don't reveal what's happening in my personal life right now.  To recall it and write it in any kind of half-attempted detail here would only send me to the Community Mental Health Center.  Let's put it this way: I almost checked myself into such a place, yesterday and people who don't suffer from severe anxiety disorder or depression might have had the same thought cross their minds if they had gone through what I've gone through this week.  It's enough to make you (actually me) wish that The Grand Joke of Life that sometimes plagues the continuously unfortunate would just take a big ol' hammer, whack one in the head and get it over with.  Ha. Ha.  Gosh, I'm quite the kidder.  Let's just say that and move on, shall we?

Speaking of Goobers... Look!  There's Goober!  He's with Andy!  I wonder what tune Andy was playing?  It was probably something lighthearted and something that made sense.  Kind of like the opposite behavior of the people we have running around the world today.  Btw, Andy Griffith died not too long ago.  Don't ask me about Goober, though.  I don't know if he's down in the dirt and food for maggots or what. The last I heard, he joined a circus that was demon- owned that had crazed clown midgets and hell hounds running the show.   Hey, that reminds me of a story I wrote about a month ago!  How about that?  

But anyway...

I will say that the only reason I'm able to write this post is because the temperature has gone down to a nearly tolerable level in this part of the apartment and I rigged a gate, an old window screen, to be exact, to keep the new kitten from jumping around and eating my electrical wiring.  Plus, some of the problems that were taking hold of my sanity have quelled enough to a point where I can put a sentence together with my keyboard without foaming at the mouth and pissing my pants.

Damn.  People are getting are crazier by the day.  Every once in awhile, I'll create some crazy assed story  or comment on some crazy assed piece of news that's going on in the world but I tell you what, folks.  The true life stories that are going on these days put my own fictional or incredibly real tales to shame, or at the very least, seem lame by comparison.

The whack job that went into the Colorado Theater and shot 71 people, wearing a costume or something, while everyone was attempting to watch the new Batman flick is just one of many signs this country is plain nutty.  I would say he's inclement.  You never hear that word, describing insane or unfeeling people much, but I'd say it's time for a new word to describe cruel or apathetic people.  People use this word to describe the weather these days but I would cheerfully give up this word to be associated with this fucker.

Insanity and cruelty must be bliss- for this guy.  His creepy-as-fuck smile says a lot.    

Speaking of inclement weather... what's going on here?  Non-stop floods and rain in the United Kingdom and over here, in the U.S., we have severe droughts and non-stop 100 degree temperatures nearly every day.  In other parts of the world, they're having "opposite weather" of what they're supposed to be having this time of year, as well.  And it's all being dealt out in heavy doses, causing anguish upon almost everyone that I've interacted with or read about. It's like the weather is mimicking the world's fucked up economy, violent state and it's loony people.  Or it's the other way around.

And let's not forget the cannibal dude who ate the homeless man's face, either, awhile back.  This guy didn't even stop eating this poor man's face as he was being shot and told not to eat the victim's face.

You would think that maybe the guy on the right was...uh....  kinda nutty.  Nope, it's the guy on the left that eats human flesh.  Whatever you do, don't hunt for the picture on the net, provided you haven't seen it, already, of the homeless guy's "face" after the cannibal dude gobbled most of it up like a kid at the fair with a stick full of cotton candy.   Or a handful of Goobers.  That picture of the homeless guy, after the cannibals handiwork, had me close to puking.  And that, my friends, is pretty bad if you can make me sick.

Personally, I don't understand it all.  The fucked up economy, the crazy people, the inclement weather, thinly veiled wars that are actually about greed and power, the messed up priorities of politicians and inclement DICKtators around the world and everything else I'm leaving out- but I'm sure you've seen on the Internet, newspapers or TV- it's really oddly coincidental that it's happening in such a short span of time.

George Carlin was a very wise, witty and humorous comedian and author.  R.I.P.  He's one of my heroes, actually, along with Kurt Vonnegut.  They really understood human nature.  They weren't shy about speaking their minds and being honest and direct.  Those are characteristics I mentally applaud about people who unabashedly exhibit them.  I hold both of the mentioned authors, who were realists and humorists, in very high regard.  I'm rather proud to say I own all of George's albums and books and I can say that I own most of the masterpieces that Kurt Vonnegut penned during his life.

My point is, is that George said, more than once, "When you're born you get a ticket to the freak show.  When you're born in America, you get a front row seat."  Wow.  The more time passes during my own era, the more truer and relevant that becomes, George.  And it seems the rest of the world is trying to shake off the fleas (the humans) more so than usual with rampant floods, death-bearing heat, earthquakes and so on.



I truly feel for the victims of those who have been shot and killed in senseless shootings, wars and so on.  I also feel for those living in poverty, never knowing a life where food is plentiful and healthcare is there to benefit them.

I guess when there are people that still feel and aren't apathetic to those around them, there is still hope.  There are days when I try to hold tight to that idea.  Some days, it's harder to do that than others.  But let's all try!  And let's all try to be better human beings and feel something humane for our own species.  At this rate, I have to admit, it feels as though we're quickly spiraling down the drain of history. 

The Cat and The Butterfly Girl

I was having the darnedest time getting open a trash bag, yesterday. It was one of those plastic bags where you can find no apparent groove in which your forefinger and thumb might separate one corner from the other. Doesn't this drive you to utter madness?

Now, I had the idea to lick my fingers so that I may gain purchase when I finally discovered the secret spot in which to open the bag but I thought, That may not be the best idea. I mean, I just petted my pussy cat's head a minute ago and although, he might be a clean pussy, as pussies go, he might have a smidgen of dry pussy pee on his noggin. After all, we have a big dome-covered pussy box in which he will go inside to use and perhaps, just perhaps, his urine spray might have ricocheted off one of the walls and landed on his head. Imagine.

Instead, I got the idea to put my forefinger and thumb under the water faucet, get them a little wet and try that. Well, wouldn't you know it? It worked! I got the trash bag open and placed it inside the trash can. Glory be! What a wonderful day it was to become!

Now, when I went downstairs to get rid of the full trash bag, I encountered another cat. I looked at him and noticed he was drinking a bottle of beer but I didn't think much of it at the time. After dumping my load (my bag in the dumpster), I went back toward the door and the cat put his paw out, saying, "Hey, would you mind a bit of company for awhile? I'm feeling kinda blue."

The cat took a swig of beer. He added, "Your cat buddy upstairs won't mind, will he?"

I said, "I don't know about that but you're welcome to come up for a bit before the Mrs. comes home from work."

When the cat, who called himself Marco Polo, came up the steps and into the apartment, he immediately folded his paws and commenced praying.

I had to ask, "Are you Catholic or Protestant?"

Marco Polo said, "Neither."

I had to ask, "So... Why are you praying?"

"I'm praying to The Superior Entity in the hopes he will offer me a sign or words of wisdom that will guide the humans on this planet to stop making so many wars, causing unnecessary life loss in order to appease the powerful and the rich."

I stood there as he continued his prayer and interrupted him, inquiring, "So you believe there's a Superior Entity that will give you this sign or words of wisdom through prayer or any other means?"

Marco Polo went back on all fours, belched and then said, "Beats hoping that humankind will come to their senses, pull together for better causes and try to get along. Heck, I'll try anything at this point."

No sooner than this was said that The Butterfly Girl flew in through my open window.

I marveled at her beautiful, flawless skin and soul searching eyes and silently wondered how it would be to poke her in her butt.

The Butterfly Girl's wings ceased fluttering and she positioned herself in an upright stance.

With arms outstretched, The Butterfly Girl said, "Though the minds of a portion of mankind have allowed them to achieve dominion over their own species and other life they consider less superior to their own, it may be that this world you exist upon has other plans for you. A scenario that is expected when smaller, mischievous living things aggravate and cause injury to the bigger living organism."

I said, "Does this mean you wanna do it?"

I made my tongue flip flop in my mouth, repeatedly, while I made a sexual, somewhat rude noise that one might consider an expression that I wished to lick the Butterfly Girl's labia and much much more.

The Butterfly Girl said, "Those who wish to dominate will do so by first attempting to manipulate your way of thinking."

When she said this, a picture formed in my mind. I'm not sure how it got there but I suspect the Butterfly Girl communicated it to me, telepathically.

Marco Polo rubbed up against The Butterfly Girl's leg and pleaded, "Could you please take me away from this world of pain and ignorance?"

The Butterfly Girl said, "There are no certainties that the next world will hold a better life for you than the one you have here."

Marco Polo said, "I'll take my chances."

Butterfly Girl picked Marco Polo up from the floor and caressed the pussy until it purred.

Before she abruptly vanished, with Marco Polo still in her arms, Butterfly Girl gave me a magical vagina mouse for my computer. She said that with it, I could find the answers that would lead the way into understanding our minds and unshackling old concepts that bind us and keep us in a state of stagnation or worse.

I plugged my vagina mouse into a port, went back and sat it my computer chair. I observed that when I pressed the middle love button, the mouse squirted an enticing, aromatic liquid.

"Juicy," I concluded.

The rest of the day was spent searching for any signs of understanding, any words of wisdom, any paths that might help and that I could use to persuade humankind to abide by for their own sakes and benefit. At times, I did find such things. But, I somehow knew that mankind would likely ignore these things and they would have to find the paths to a better existence on their own.

After all, I thought, humans were well known to better accept something that they themselves discovered rather than something that was carefully pushed into their minds by subtlety or the direct approach. But then I thought, Nah, these dumb asses will follow anything if the bait tastes good enough. I laughed at this until I cried. As some will.

Denial Comes In Many Forms

My wife, my friend, Steve and I were watching the movie, Anger Management, last night. It's a comedy with Adam Sandler, Jack Nickolson and Morisa Tomei in the main starring roles. One of my favorite movies of all time. It's off-the-wall, hysterical and has an undeniable message. And this is a message that shows the truth in how people interact and cope with each other, themselves and how they play mind games to manipulate themselves and others. But you're not going to get any of this unless you're paying attention to the movie.

Nickolson plays the character of the psychologist, Dr. Buddy Rydell, who is trying to help Sandler's character, Dave Buznik, with his anger issues.

If you've seen the movie, you may remember the lines of dialogue Jack Nickolson spoke to Adam Sandler as he explains the difference between explosive anger and implosive anger.

Dr. Buddy Rydell: Explosive is the type of individual you see screaming at the cashier for not taking his coupon. Implosive is the cashier who remains quiet day after day and then finally shoots everyone in the store. You’re the cashier.

Dave Buznik: No, no, no. I’m the guy in the frozen food section dialin’ 911. I swear.

Check out this funny scene from the movie in the clip below.

Unfortunately, I suffer from implosive anger. I wish it were otherwise but it isn't. I don't deny the fact that I and others around me may suffer from my choice of keeping shit inside until I go off like fireworks in a portable toilet, but most of the time, I'll deny whatever is eating at me until the inevitable event occurs. I think a lot of people, if they were honest, would say the same. You want to avoid confrontations because they are unpleasant. In an individual's mind it may seem as if they're trying to give the person, thing or problem chance after chance to say the right thing or resolve itself but it is also a form of denial. It especially becomes clear when you want something to happen and, obviously, it isn't going to happen. Acceptance can be difficult.

Explosive anger can be bad, as well. You can't just go off on someone because of something they said. And you shouldn't punch a wall at the exact moment something negative occurs to you. There should, if humans were rational, be a real attempt on the part of the person feeling like they're "getting the shaft" or being insulted to restrain themselves from abrupt, extreme violent verbal or physical abuse.

Honestly, which one of those types would you say you have? Remember... When you are true to yourself with one thing or another in your life, it lifts yet another burden from your shoulders as you make your journey. I just made that up. Pretty good, huh? Not only profound but I somehow manage to stay humble, too. Amazing.

My friend said this last night, after watching Anger Management:

"Denial isn't just a river but it's a way of life for some people." Get the joke?... De Nile? (as in the Nile River)... and denial? Sure, you're likely not laughing until you piss yourself but I liked it. Hell, you might have heard it before. I don't know nor care but it's a true enough statement.

Well, curiosity got the best of me and I just looked it up. It's been said already. Sorry, Steve. lol.

Here's another quote, from the great philosopher, Aristotle:

“Anyone can become angry - that is easy, but to be angry with the right person at the right time, and for the right purpose and in the right way - that is not within everyone's power and that is not easy."

Have you noticed, during the last ten years or so, that they keep building bigger and bigger cruise ships? Over three thousand passengers could fit on the cruise ship, Freedom of The Seas, we took last summer. After that, another cruise ship, Oasis of The Seas, was created. It's five times larger than the Titanic. It can hold 5,400 passengers and 2,145 staff members. And there will be more cruise ships coming, from what I've read, that will be even bigger, if they haven't been created and launched already. More lives on board. More lives at stake if something goes terribly wrong. The notion that plans to evacuate people are guaranteed to work simply isn't true. Things can and have gone awry on cruise ships.

The Carnival cruise ship, Carnival Splendor, had a fire in their engine room, last year, that shut down all the power, stranding over 4,000 passengers and staff members out in the middle of the sea. People endured three days and nights without hot food, cabin lighting and air conditioning. Their story could have ended a lot worse, of course. And in the future, with companies willing to raise the ante of Potential Life Loss VS. Rising Profit Margins on the continuous building of massive ships, one holding more people than the one before it, something horrendous will eventually happen. The odds for it are obvious.

There have been other cruise ship events in the past that were near disasters, by way of lives being almost lost. Take the MTS Oceanos, for example. Ten years ago, this cruise ship was sinking after an explosion was heard. Water rapidly rose up through the hull, generator room and beyond. The crew took off, leaving the passengers stranded. Very few were led to the lifeboats to safety. While the captain was one of the first to get off the ship, most of the passengers were left to fend for themselves. Luckily, the on board entertainers assisted the passengers and kept them alive. Click the link for part of that story.

There are other examples, other scenarios that have happened. Like everyone on board getting deathly sick from bacteria or one thing or another. I think that happened last year. I forget which cruise ship. I doubt it was the Love Boat. You can look it up, yourself.

The point is:

It's all for the purpose of making bigger profits, building these gigantic floating cities on the oceans. And all those people. Just think about it! Denying that something terrible will happen is easy and arrogant on the part of these cruise lines.

You might have heard the news about news reporters going into Egypt to report the violence and the protesting against President Mubarak. One female reporter, Lara Logan was raped and assaulted while there, trying to tell what was going on. While I commend her on wanting to get the truth out there to the rest of the world, since Mubarak was trying to keep the truth from getting out, by way of television and the Internet, I think she and her news crew were somehow denying to themselves that something horrendous could happen to them in the middle of that powder keg. Brave, but stupid. Denial of what will likely happen in a scenario like that is stupid, especially when it comes to your life possibly being snuffed out and your family paying the price, in the end, for your bravery/stupidity.

Oh, and hey, my fellow Americans, get a goddamn clue! The world hates the U.S. because we meddle into their business and their problems and their affairs so we can make a profit from their misery or whatever they got that we happen to want. Wars. Oil. Politics. Corporate greed. Government. All linked. When one country sets up military bases all over the world like they're the New Roman Empire, what kind of hostility do you think that will bring about from the rest of humanity?

We're a country full of fat, rich, obese people that let out cries of patriotism because we're given misinformation to instill that fucked up sense of patriotism. Delusional. A nation of fuckers in denial. Just keep giving us that paycheck and we'll keep performing our expected tricks for you . Continue to drill for oil in the water, in the national parks or wherever. Intrude on what's left of our privacy. Do whatever you want. We just want to be left alone and left dumber than a box of rocks. We can't be hassled or bothered by the truth of things.

And global warming is just a myth, of course. Sure. A lot of idiots were claiming that the harsh winter we had was proving global warming was just an alarmist piece of propaganda. Yes, in 49 of our 50 states we did have snow falling. True. This is and was a very extreme winter. I've done my fair share of complaining with good reason but the facts are the facts. The deniers have said, more or less, "Fuck what 95% of the scientists have as proof of global warming." Btw, would you care for an explanation of why our weather is becoming so extreme, hot and cold-wise, and that it is most certainly connected to climate change? Click here for that answer.

While we're on the subject, check out this informative little clip for a bit of good cheer.

Don't forget to continue to pump that poison in the air and keep the profits rolling and keep those corporation execs and bank CEOs in their mansions and their private jets. Don't worry. We'll just keep working and hiding our heads in the sand. No questions asked. Just deny that it is happening. We'll keep doing that until we've wiped out every last plant, tree, animal and pocket of clean, breathable air.

Then it's "Goodbye, Mr. Blue Sky!" You sow what you reap, fuckers!

I'm sure we're not the only ones to fall into the denial trap. The German citizenry were certainly suckered in by the Nazi party rhetoric during WW2. They made themselves believe it in the hopes that their economy would become repaired and they could live a better life. Of course, some threats, attacks and outright murders were committed to help persuade the folks. The Jewish people and more ethnic groups got to suffer for the German people's delusion and belief in that propaganda. Gas chambers. Concentration camps. Torture. Cruel medical experimentation. Denial mixed with inhumanity can bring forth catastrophic results.

I called my sister up, today, after she was finished plucking a couple turkeys she had in her pen of chickens and ducks. They all get along, in case you're wondering or making assumptions. She said she was going to make sausage out of the male because adding spices normally reserved for sausage masked some of the stronger taste of the male meat of the bird. The female turkey doesn't have that strong of a taste to them, she explained. I asked why was that. She said because the testosterone somehow permeates the meat of the males and gives them that slightly nastier flavor. Females don't have that kind of taste to them, according to her.

She went on to say that these big meat butchering companies treat their cattle and pigs and chickens like crap by feeding them in confined spaces and putting them through hell before they find their way into the supermarkets. As a result, the meat is slightly or more contaminated by these chemicals or hormones produced in the meat that causes them to have that strong, unsavory taste.

Japanese Kobe beef has a much better taste to it than American beef because they treat their cattle with tender loving care before they kill them, slice and dice 'em and serve their flesh on your plate. Mmm... I'm getting hungry. Let me give you a real nice massage, like they do in Japan, before I cut off your head, tear out your guts and divide your body parts among the masses. The cattle might being treated better at the time, but in the end, it's kind of a nasty little prank, is it not? All that tender loving care and then WHAM! They're meat for humans in the end, when only recently, they were being pampered.

My point is that there is denial with that aspect on how we treat our livestock and the connection with what we're putting into our bodies. Still, I'm not going to stop eating meat. I'll be honest. I like meat. If you and I were on a deserted island and there was no hope of rescue, I wouldn't turn your back! I'll make you my meal of choice if I feel desperate enough. Mmm... I hope there's a little garlic that's washed ashore, to go with your rib meat. Don't you deny me your flesh, now, friend. :-)

Denial comes in many forms, for the individual and groups and nations of people. What you, we or I choose to ignore and deny can and will likely, in the future, present a grave danger, if it hasn't already.

And, in conclusion, I say, "Have a pleasant afternoon and sunny tomorrows, everyone! Yipee!"