The Message Column

Major Changes here

          
July 22, 2015





 When morning arrives he's driven too far.
 now the all those mountains are behind him.
 He wishes it was another day, long time ago, 
                       before his heartbreak.
 
 The night is dark, the air, crisp and cold.
 He wishes for a friend.
 While sleeping
 in the seat
 with the moonlight
 he feels it
 coming in
 opening up his gates,
                 everlasting
 
 

Flatbush in the rain
don't you leave my dear mother alone

Daddy's gone, and there aint nothing we can do about it
Daddy's gone, and there aint nothing we can do about it

Trainride to the Jersey Shore.
Red Bank
Fireworks
Summer Showers
They'll probably pass in an hour.

Daddy's gone, off to sing in a show
Daddy's gone, somewhere we don't know.

Jersey Shore
The first time I ever heard about Benjamin Franklin
The long car ride, boardwalk

Slumbering
Slumbering in a hammock

the above song was recorded 4 June evening (or was it Wednesday?)

hover above images for a modification effect.

editing takes time.

🌃🌍🌑 🌃🌍🌒 🌃🌍🌓 🌃🌍🌔 🌃🌍🌕 🌃🌍🌖 🌃🌍🌗 🌃🌍🌘 🌃🌍🌙 🌃🌍🌚 🌃🌎🌑 🌃🌎🌒 🌃🌎🌓 🌃🌎🌔 🌃🌎🌕 🌃🌎🌖 🌃🌎🌗 🌃🌎🌘 🌃🌎🌙 🌃🌎🌚 🌃🌏🌑 🌃🌏🌒 🌃🌏🌓 🌃🌏🌔 🌃🌏🌕 🌃🌏🌖 🌃🌏🌗 🌃🌏🌘 🌃🌏🌙 🌃🌏🌚 🌄🌍🌑 🌄🌍🌒 🌄🌍🌓 🌄🌍🌔 🌄🌍🌕 🌄🌍🌖 🌄🌍🌗 🌄🌍🌘 🌄🌍🌙 🌄🌍🌚 🌄🌎🌑 🌄🌎🌒 🌄🌎🌓 🌄🌎🌔 🌄🌎🌕 🌄🌎🌖 🌄🌎🌗 🌄🌎🌘 🌄🌎🌙 🌄🌎🌚 🌄🌏🌑 🌄🌏🌒 🌄🌏🌓 🌄🌏🌔 🌄🌏🌕 🌄🌏🌖 🌄🌏🌗 🌄🌏🌘 🌄🌏🌙 🌄🌏🌚 🌅🌍🌑 🌅🌍🌒 🌅🌍🌓 🌅🌍🌔 🌅🌍🌕 🌅🌍🌖 🌅🌍🌗 🌅🌍🌘 🌅🌍🌙 🌅🌍🌚 🌅🌎🌑 🌅🌎🌒 🌅🌎🌓 🌅🌎🌔 🌅🌎🌕 🌅🌎🌖 🌅🌎🌗 🌅🌎🌘 🌅🌎🌙 🌅🌎🌚 🌅🌏🌑 🌅🌏🌒 🌅🌏🌓 🌅🌏🌔 🌅🌏🌕 🌅🌏🌖 🌅🌏🌗 🌅🌏🌘 🌅🌏🌙 🌅🌏

🖐♥♥Love♥♥🖑
♥♥🖑Cops🖐♥♥


      🖐♥♥Jesus♥♥🖑
     🖐♥♥ is the♥♥🖑
🖐♥♥ life and the ♥♥🖑
♥♥🖑🖐Resurrection!♥♥🖑🖐

hover modifies the back ground for the page.

this image selector div is for the page body background

hover modifies the back ground for the column.

this image selector div is for the column background

     oh those
     
     
spin me a yarn neon
spin me a yarn neon

   write the letters all in different colors
   
 Done That!
 
 
 

 When morning arrives he's driven too far.
 now the all those mountains are behind him.
 He wishes it was another day, long time ago, 
                       before his heartbreak.
 
 The night is dark, the air, crisp and cold.
 He wishes for a friend.
 While sleeping
 in the seat
 with the moonlight
 he feels it
 coming in
 opening up his gates,
                 everlasting
 
 

 Hey boys? 
 Is this just noise?
 I know
 that you're annoyed.
 
 And they spin as well, spin me a yarn!
 
 

take down
the reaction
people
will be who they are
as closed a door
as they let it
lock up your life in a car.

In Wicked Need of an Edit

🚛 🎓 🎔 🌀

Political and Media Inanity

I'm Back. Today I share some fiction, written by Bill. He is letting me put this here but we doctored it up a bit so it's not quite as blunt and accusatory as when he first wrote it. He says it's obvious but he is still worried that clamp could come down on him so he's got this thin fiction about a presidental candidate. He shared it with me and so now I share it with you. Enjoy.

They don't love Darlene

Why don't they love Darlene?

I'm not talking about the Darlene bashers. Of course they don't like her because of her sympathies. She's not a 'nice girl' to them. She's a manipulative . . . well you know the word that so many use to describe her. Oh, how taboo to use that word about her.

But why? I've said before she should own the word. Say she is whatever they say she is. Say ya, she's a [banned word as noun]. And of course she is because the world is so [banned adjective]-up. And when tyranny and oppression arise anyway madame candidate will arise. They will be the ones who will show up banging on the door of whatever sanctuary of corrupt power it happens to be, World Banks? International Monarchy Fund? International Anti Whatever-they-ares, the who-ever-they-are tyrants, of any kind. She will come and have a [banned word] session with the tyrants and she will make it right.

But isn't that just another manifestation of hero mongering and false idol worship? In this case the lust for power is so strong that dame Darlene is unable to realize that she has a slim to none chance to win in any system that is actually for and by the people. Her only chance of winning is by the cooking of it by the various actors who she and her clan have installed. They adore dame Darlene too much, many of us feel (not all of everyone, but enough to know).

If Darlene Bolton becomes the next president, that essentially means that the American Nation no longer exists. Instead we have the jezzebell i-tocracy of nepotistic incompetence, the feminzed aristocracy of bullies from the long ago: their great great grand children of secret privilege finally revealing the nature of their brood. Oh the horror.

It's a vicious story, isn't it? How else could anyone tell it except as fiction? The real truth seems to be just a worst case fringe view of the origins of the current crop of corrupt officals. Those who know the real story won't ever tell, or they only know part of it.

So what about the current corruption? It's best to not be part of it. It's best to be away from it. If you were born of it, shun it. If you were working for it, resign your commission. If you think you can be an infiltrator: the infiltration only goes in one direction. It's your own soul who is infiltrated by their operations of conditional acceptance

side note: I can't call the behaviors of the corrupt evil, but only seemingly evil, if you concoct explanations where evil is part of it, we all know that evil is just how it seems in very many cases. What is seen as evil is the effect of their sinful hatred of not only themselves but the rest of humanity. The politness is demanded from the political realm: politeness that they often won't extend themselves.

statement of possible bombast: That which seems to be 'evil' is a manifestation of the collective narcissism and misunderstanding of human-kind. Male, Female. We aren't supposed to use gender anymore in some dialectics because it 'offends' the inoffensible. They aren't offended by third term - - - ,

the strictures of speach from linquistic imperialists of the Left

But they are offended that we parse up the concepts through the filter of gender. And then they create this concept of 'equality' and then proceed to violate it thoroughly by adhering to their skewed view of human dynamics.

If they weren't so skewed maybe they'd realize how manipulative it is to present someone whose main qualification is just the fact of their gender, a gender, which, by the way, by all accounts, and by the persons own admission, that candidate does reject. So it's not that she's a woman that we reject her candidacy.

: it is because of the fact (fact used in a loose way as a synonym for appearance, constant appearance and observation of her consistent behaviors and ignore the passing laws that she puts out there to the public to mask over the horror of the pagan and narcissistic way that she actually looks at the world around her, the people of the clan, the citizenry out there in the crowd.

Her announcement in a public park

They closed off a public park. They made it into a little miniature police state. It's supposed to be a park dedicated to the four freedoms. They made stamps about it in 1940's with art deco socialist realist designs: so retro Marxists, but in the good sense (as good as it could ever get with that crowd).

But the children of the privilege, who were chosen by their fore-bearers in the long ago to pick up the mantle of their infinity of causes, the most conformist of all, who was taught the inner workings and then used it all against them so she could claw her way up with her man at the top of the heap, a guy who had a seemingly magical effect on women (but we are supposed to ignore gender). And so they all voted for Darlene's husband and he was, in fact, the president. So it was strictly and only because of gender that such a man was able to become president: especially the weakness of shortsighted women about 'their man' and even though the guy was a total philanderer and treated women as objects and toys, and had multiple serial affairs . . . she always and forever makes excuses for him no matter how embarrassing the details. A totally acceptable thing for a woman to do for her man but . . . not against the very stereo types that she claims as hers: feminism. She is neither a feminist nor is she a very nice person due to the fact of the hypocrisy of her behavior. She's had a full life. She's been dear and important. She had her time in the national spotlight with unfettered access.

But she wants that ring of power. She is living with memory of the heroin effects of total power: one ring rules them all she believes and she wants to be the head of that ring. In this case we aren't talking about gold rings anymore: but a ring of collusion consisting, in some part, as tyrants who rule with impunity and decide a generation ahead who will live and die a generation later. As if they are in charge.

And she wants to be in charge of that ring, that ring that deludes to be a 'rulership class'.

And so what do we do? What would someone who loves her do? They might explain to her how it seems to those of us on the outside of it, who are forced to get shoved against it, like the sides of an ever expanding tent. The tent of ever more and more and more for them and they.

Without concern about who gets bowled over, and with no care for who is forced to flea for their lives, or even remember the names of people murdered in the name of the cause: people who she was in charge of. People who they abandoned. We know the names and if we say them out loud or mention the Libyan town we , yes we, are chided with a derisive and called out as if we are some how less and not worth hearing because we dwell on the fact of the spewing of lies that explained all that went down in the Libyan town that night with the curious date. And the excuses of the power that failed to do right by the people. They were dealing and smuggling? They were trying to make a secret shipment?

Oh ya, we don't really know but that alone is enough to say 'no, Darlene, no'

Save your soul, Darlene. Don't take that gold ring even if you can.

Truck-u-later

OK, enough of this.

July 22, 2015

We sure do need a billion dollar idea.

. . . well . . . 
     Truck-you-later!


Praise the Lord for his unfailing love!

  Praise
   the
   Lord
  for his
 unfailing
   love!

  Praise
   the
   Lord
  for his
 unfailing
   love!

  Praise
   the
   Lord
  for his
 unfailing
   love!

  Praise
   the
   Lord
  for his
 unfailing
   love!

  well, nothing more here today.