The Message Column

https redirection

supposedly ups your game.

Enter the modern age, https redirection.

return code 302 which means 'use https'

If that doesn't mean anything to you, rest easy. You aren't supposed to be expert in everything.

blog rant: the unedited blog

Why doesn't he edit first?

A typist is taught to produce copy as fast as possible. Backspacing to fix small errors that ought to be caught later doesn't allow for quick generation of content.

Also, if I'm being hyper political I can all ways . . . out and say 'ouch, what a typo . . . that one was. Oppseee daisy. Is that a cowardly way to imagine or to explain away what many see as laziness?

I guess it is. self deprication in an extreme.

Now if I register my self-generated certificate I won't have to worry about the scarey messages that the browser gives before it downloads a certificate for ssl.

SSL: It's just another software layer. I'm not trying to be secret. My pages have always been open to everyone.

all day
and the page don't work
the page
doesn't work
it won't work.

Can't get a job
when the HR is a jerk
the page don't work
don't work
don't work.

Took a test
and the best
that was left
was deft

We took a page
from long ago
wind and rain
sleet and snow

The chorus from an ancient tune
Midnight hatch
a billons moon
above the moonlite lake
on the full moon midnight delta

MH where are you?
How would I know
what you would do?
Milton Midnight moonlight lake delta
billions hatch
hovering like a billion angels in the midnight.

Feb 26, 2017

Some hours later
styles changing
the wharf in a different light
he had to set up the tripod
dinner was over by now
by 9 he had finished
and she had gone
always a lonely midnight shoot
he thinks about a way to make himself glad
but he knows that none of it will work
gladness is overrated, he decides
walking the beach to his little shack of heaven.

2017

 
 The bicycle is pretty
 when it glistens on the hill.
 
 

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hover modifies the back ground for the page.

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Oh tiny font nonsense,
just because your letters are smaller
doesn't mean you have some alternative importance.

  Praise     Praise     Praise
   the        the        the
   Lord       Lord       Lord!
  for    because    
 Easter  He's so awesome! 
  welcome to The Message Column!

      🖐♥♥Love♥♥🖑
      ♥♥🖑Cops🖐♥♥

      

Is it obvious parody or News or both?

 

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🖐♥♥Love♥♥🖑
♥♥🖑Cops🖐♥♥

      

     
Vote Once
One Vote
here is a fresh link, a new path to some older content:
   photo pile!
   
 

 
Manga.
you have been taught something
real about yourself.
Drink it.
Own it.
Digest it.
pass it through.
 

   
Suns gone
don't follow me
Spring falls 
like rain.

If you don't wait for me
I'll never wait for you again.
I'll never wait for you again.
I'll never wait for you again.

All of those dreams I had last Summer
they fade fade fade
with the rain
All of those times I tried to reach out to you
you always act like i'm insane
I'll never wait for you again.

Again
and again
I wait for you 
in the morning
I dream you'll come
to see me
buy you never ever ever
come again.

Again and again
you never ever ever come again.

All of those dreams I had in Summer
they did
fade fade fade
with the rain
All of those times I tried to talk to you
you always acted like I'm insane
I'll never wait for you again
I'll never wait for you again

Again 
and again
I dream
you come
to see me
I dream that
we are walking
down the long and storied lane
and you'll always come again

In Wicked Need of an Edit

🚛 🎓 🎔 🌀

Political and Media Inanity

Kafka wrote comedy. Orwell was a pessimist. Depends who you ask.

Imagine if they both could have lived and made it to Los Angeles, post war, and been collaborators on writing romantic screwball comedies for Hollywood. If we search IMDB for movies written by Kafka, or by Orwell, will we find one? I kind of doubt it.

Truck-u-later

in this column Truck-u-later steps in deeper . . .

The political circus has jumped the shark in this year of twenty-seventeen. And what is it to continue to be? As the days go on will the show from LA and NYC be 'city of mean'? No one likes that show. I don't like that show. It's not a good show. I won't give such a show good ratings.

I couldn't write a more rediculous crew than the presentation of ninnies that we get from the parody of 'the left' that 'the right' puts out on their blathertatious pages. I've been a bit of a dana-downer about things at times, being all conjectorial in a conjectorial way. My conjecture is that your conjecture is just conjecture and you seem to take it as factual, however it mustn't me such because noone would be so scared and fragile, driving back from a long lost rock-show of mind, in the ages of lost time. Before the storm came he was sitting beneath the moon and his naked fear of being wretched in the eys of God. Such fear. You can't be the buddah, because if anyone then meets you in the road they will thus have to . . . you, as so perscribed in arcane (humorous) texts of antique origin.

No one is ever as mean and stupid as they can seem to be when presented by partisan 'press'. News is news, false is false. Most people can tell the difference between propaganda and actual factual, unbiased accounts. In the case of what are called the lame-stream media, if they have no credibility their incredulity to this fact is really rather unfathomable. They really have no one to blame but themselves. No one would trust them no matter if Trump had won or not. Their incredulousness and their false presentation of subjects in the news, results from their own non-journalisting shilling of the good name of Journalism. They craft a faux journalism, and everyone knows that it is. To the point where very many people can't even understand how some of these organizations still exist except . . . and we have conjecture that seems to explain it. And the feathered nesters of the left, in their wonderful job-for-life group-think nests, they seem to be fearful in a sense of 'oh . shi_t, they've finally figured us out'. If you aren't guilty of anything then why act like you are?

It would be revolutionary if one of the conformists of the left, in their job-for-life nest at one of the major networks would just admit it: ya, you on the right are right, we just shill for highest cartel bidder messageing and it happens to be . . . and then they insert a list of names of crooked cartel posers, (but that would be rat behavior, so I don't suggest it)

If you don't want to be considered a purveyor of falsehood, then don't accept a poison agenda and promote it without concern for the long term consequences. Don't be a pay-for-parrot of the highest bidder cartel urges of the control freaks of the world.

The is the part where the left resurrects by purging the falsity from their presentation of agenda. This is the part where they begin to understand the anger of those on the right who put up with fowl and debased polemics of various factions on the left, who were not put under scrutiny, and were allowed to go on with what many see as hateful ethnic and race baiting.

Everyone is not on the page of the most radical of ideologues who project out toxic messaging designed to create a stir and maybe to make a name for themselves. They want to have an effect so they say shocking and rediculous things. And it gets widely echoed by those who want the left to look as fools.

But we do hear some who seem to enjoy the violence of this new street theatre of demonstraion that devolves. Such devolution, even in the rethoric, ought to be called out and condemned as retrograde. Sticks and stones do break bones and thus lets just stick to words, please.

There is no other alternative in politics than words to sway the voters. Words. Words that compel to action. Words that get congress to craft the law for optimized government of, for, and by the PEOPLE. caps intended.

If there are issues that ought to be discussed, then do so with interested people. Burning down the pharmacy isn't going to improve our governance.

Trump-zilla

The kaiju (strange creature) who the protestors imagine.

He's just not that guy!

The mirror is in your face? What do you see? Do you get what you give?

Feb 21, 2017

from The Japanese
kaiju : strange creature
kaijin : strange creatures

Both Mothra and Godzilla were kaijin.

Give us back our egg.

The demcracy twins say:


"the accusation of racism is often the most racest tripe of all!"

the usurpers say:
"we are just in your imagination!"

some one shouts:
"Careful your description of these people you hate so much, you starting to sound like you are describing."

The giant statue starts lumbering, like
a huge Olmec Head chess piece, 
or giant Gallapagous sculpture, 
animated,
across the scene.
Is Says:
Make the date,
don't be late.




the protest kwel-aide
is all gone.
It's was dranken up
in the last verse of this song.
Expect the staggering to stagger through
they'll have very mean things
to say about you.


"but it tastes so good!" they cry.

Gathering together is holy effort.

I say I don't know,
but I do know what I don't say.
And I try to say what I might know,
but as a form of entertainment,
and a way for me to channel out my urges.
In that sense a blog, a speculative
writing project, like this one,
is a conjecture factory of snark and
possiblity hopefully 
to open up the gates that
block the water from getting to
the thirsty minds,
starving for acceptance and
affection
within the scrum.

Protestor megaphone Jones.
He's got his ap
on your phones.
He knows all your triggers.
He's got voomp and hair stand jiggers
filled with the kewlest of kewl.
Filled with taboo drewl.

That's some pretty colored drink.
Drink up.
Twenty years ago this week.
Drink up.
Drink up.
Comet Hale Bop
Dring up.

The poet hopes that no one drinks
that fowl brew.

My recomendation is to not
take the drug taffy
from the tripping guy
you jest met who is
already explaining to you
about Kabballah.


delete
delete
delight in the delete.


There is nothing heroic
in chanting along
with an idiot.

  Praise     Praise     Praise
   the        the        the
   Lord       Lord       Lord
  for his    for his    for his
 unfailing  unfailing  unfailing
   love!      love!      love!


the poet won the prize for literature!

  well, nothing more here today.