THREE ALARM fire at the home front. Mo’ not crazy ’bout the late cancellation, but coolest head prevails; that would be heir to throne. Yes, she says the foregoance of Daddy/Daughter in favor of surprise family home evening with mommy included, is OK by her even though last-minute. It’s not that Daddy doesn’t believe in girl scouts or the wearing of uniforms, jinostic nationalism and the like. Pray tell, dear raiders, which daddy was it was all in favor at first blush of the infamous McDonalds Teacher Night, uhhh, before Daddy began to turn against beef, of course?

BUT DON’T GET ME started on “support the troops” on the cookie boxes or going to the local police to be admonished to always do good by very large men who can’t see their belt or are otherwise unfit for regular duty. Indoctrination needn’t be so overt.

So what if the kids come to believe a strong affiliation between education and McDonalds. Or that the corporate types get to clown the hard-working teachers by having a bunch of assistant manager 19 year olds say Mr T take this to table 7 and don’t come back til you clean up all along the way I’ll be checking your work. Fortunately I believe my daughter’s teacher has more integrity than that. I know I do; its just that pesky capitalization again; big M little C big D I simply can’t keep up. Daddy really doesn’t believe in capitalization, I think.

joy is only shared

FIRST ALARM THIS AM was from my daughter. I must present the world more as it is; less how I wish it was. She asked about a sick friend, and why I hadn’t been talking about her. She requested I pass on tidings to the woman. Big girl hadda quickly comprehend such courtesan life can lead to detachment from any seeming normalcy. Those who find themselves in such dilemma, indoctrinated in addiction, cannot cope and have become hopeless.

Colleen is sick. I can’t help.

I won’t. Not that way.

Life is Not Safe For The Uninitiated.

What can i say? Only the truth. Certainly, it must be impressed upon the child, the difficult adherence to principles exhibited by her mother, my wife, vis-a-vis the limousine of life Abby had grown to believe a woman of such leisure as Queen Colleen (sic) to reside in; this must be reconciled. I began by emphasizing the reason mommy has real pain and emotions and why we are committed to caring about making our best efforts to alleviate sadness mommy feels, is that mommy deals with real life every day. That list, Abby? of stuff you need to do every day that reiterates your commitment to such simple things as hygiene? nutrition? rest and meditation? these are things about which Daddy’s friend could only begin to care about, these precious assurances of our devotion to ourselves, to each other, after a long period of convalescence focused on overcoming a terrible addition to drugs, to a life and style of living, to not caring, to having lost hope. These things, I had to tell Abigail, finally, to clear my conscience and the air:

It does not appear likely will happen.

Kid is smart enough to not ask what then?

We just dunno, kiddo.
But I’m here for ya.
I ain’t never leaving.

I got stories coming out my I got a lot on my plate. I got other stuff I deal with sometimes, too. Family stuff. I don’t have a bug up my ass about it anymore; i figure ain’t that just the way. So a little humor, puhleez. Thank you. Figures you choose this one. In Home for the Holidays, Jodie Foster brings a gem, all based on the premise of a turkey. Alright, she must’ve said, taskmaster that the woman has always been known to be, let’s try it again. From the top.

Downey should catch it this time.

just don’t let the relatives start with their stories…

Thankful? Absolutely. Know what I want? Hell, no.

1-2-6 i’m in the hall. Harrummpphh.

=======
ORIGINAL POST 9/7/12

THE STATE OF SCHOOLS: PHILLY

Yup, it’s Philadelphia all over America. W.C. Fields-style.

well, if yer gonna care, now is about the right time (duh)

Let’s go find

a spanking new school in suburban Philly. Schools in districts outside Philly get upwards of twice the money per student. Philly has been starved at less than 10K (USD annually) per student into this mess. It is an inherently greed-based, racist system where some have stolen the estate, the literal means of educating our children.

LEFT BEHIND? cruel joke

=======

Don’t think our children aren’t smart enough to know.

or to see how we pretend the truth ain’t the truth.
===============

Using lies and deceit, unwilling to
come to the table in good faith, nor even
extend an olive branch to those less fortunate
among us, unwilling to truly implement change
that could matter, unwilling to pay anything,
let alone their fair share,

the uber:rich

have secreted upwards of double digit trillions (USD)
in the thirty-odd years since ALEC first began
subverting electoral politics with policymaking
outside the system advancing the moving of our
corporate manufacturing infrastructure to further
safe haven. Stolen from each of us, as we arm the
world for no.good.reason and perpetrate war crimes.

Read the paper.
===

We are Germany in the 30′s.

Roving bands of marauding thieves, in suits.
Most of us don’ t realize the absolute wealth
and insulation the people these marauders
report to and worship have attained.

The protection they own;
political and media goons…
not to mention the cops
to back ‘em up.

If yer not invited to the party, yer f*cked.
If yer dark, good luck with that.
Poor? what’s in it fer them?

Nothing.

from philly.com
“Why Isn’t Closing 40 Philadelphia Public Schools National News?”

Bruce Dixon:

The city has a lot of poor and black children. Our ruling classes don’t want to invest in educating these young people, preferring instead to track into lifetimes of insecure, low-wage labor and/or prison. Our elites don’t need a populace educated in critical thinking. So low-cost holding tanks that deliver standardized lessons and tests, computerized, operated by profit-making “educational entrepreneurs” are the way to go.

lifetimes of insecure, low-wage labor or prison

They ain’t stoppin there

Yossarian: He was very old.

Whore: But he was a boy.

Yossarian: Well, he died. You don’t get any older than that.
===============
like night and day,
our worlds in which
we travel are sometimes
outside the slim reality
we have built. Eventually,
it is a matter of fact:
heavenly bodies collide.

Like twin galaxies never again
to bounce star stuff between.

Like two planets revolvin’
around the same sun, so…

bong. bong.

he’s stupid, yo
he is stupid, isn’t he?

don’t swallow it, bill murray

I NEVER UNDERSTOOD this whole celebrity deaths come in 3′s thing. It takes a presumption to deem someone a celebrity to begin with; some people are legend in their innovation. As a kid, experience taught me there are better things to be known as than what’s called infamous. Celebrity? cause celebre maybe. parlez vous?

Chaville porte de Mare Adam arche

SOME THINGS should die; but not innocents. For example, it is at once true the furtherance of peaceful objectives can only be beach headed by a commitment to lay down our arms in some manifest fashion. Then attempt more equitable strategies whereby this peace acheived is as profitable as war. Same with oil: new energies made as competitive as g*damn fracking more farts out’ the Old Girl. Similarly, grow foods in communities, free of irrational poisons here at the very top (sic) of the food chain, rather than buy into the ARCHER DANIEL MIDLANDs screaming that feeding the world is necessary starting with all this corn we’re gonna shove into these cows and every single food product we possibly can; or MONSANTO LIES THAT ruination of food cropping in any manner other than their proprietary method and seed is a birthright transferred. REVOLT AGAINST HYPOCRISY. A wholesale rethinking may become necessary or may otherwise be organically emerging that cannot be stymied in such a fashion as TO KEEP ALL IDEAS off the table. I think they call that cutting the head off. John F Kennedy was quoted as telling an official within his administration: “I want to splinter the CIA into a thousand pieces and scatter it to the winds.”

OK, so that’s a start

=======
Martin Balsam as Colonel Cathcart
Jon Voight as Lieutenant Minderbinder

What is it, Lieutenant Minderbinder?

- An egg, sir.
- I know that, Lieutenant.

- A fresh egg, sir.
- Where did you get the egg?

In Malta, sir, where there are enough chickens to lay fresh eggs for every officer in the squadron, at five cents apiece from the mess fund.

With a clear profit of two cents per egg.

For whom?

…For whomever sells the eggs to the mess.

People and corporations who make it their business to profit from the machinations of war do a great disservice to our nation. To my mind, it needs to be addressed in Congress, these behaviors that have so bankrupted our nation. You know, just in the interest of austerity, belt-tightening, difficult shared sacrifice, you know… since we’re so g*ddamn broke, bitches…

Steve Clemons, a senior fellow at the New America Foundation think tank, has accused former CIA Director James Woolsey of both profiting from and promoting the Iraq War. Here, too we find clear evidence of endemic problems that are rooted in sheer greed. Look, we’re not naive here in abbyland about the need for strong defense of our nation. Duh. And we’re not partisan. Well, we’re partisan, to be sure, but there are dirtbags (sic) everywhere in the current orgy of war. The Center for Public Integrity has reported that US Senator Dianne Feinstein and her husband, Richard Blum, are making billions yes, billions of dollars from Iraq and Afghanistan contracts through his companies URS and Perini. Feinstein and other Democrats, despite party platforms contrare, voted for the resolution giving President George W. Bush the authority to invade Iraq.

now i’m thinkin’ about speakin’ French

well, that’s no way to learn

Harry Truman had a few things to say about war profiteering. He spent much of his legislative career in the business of stemming war profiteering before ascending accidentally to the Presidency; nowadays, it is public policy to corporatize war and reap private reward, and as much a matter of ruthless manipulations of the public sense of security, as abject theft of all our nation once stood for simply to please their stockholders and perpetrate their sick world view.

They’ve been at it, errr, for a while now.

ORIGINAL POST 7/23/11
=======
In other news across the globe, from LONDON, early morning reports of a celebrity death. Some people live comparatively short lives despite (or because of) what would seem to the unknowing to be great successes.

Who knew there were so many languid, tortured ways to say “black…”

You sang, “I died a hundred times.”

No, once.

in other news; as reported, still dead.

like i knew i would

sometimes a tune has a palpable lament

you haven’t changed a bit, mate; not one bloody bit!” it’s true even after 35 yrs

songs themselves contain a gentle resignation, y’know? even a rockin’ out cranked up’ gem. that dude is tryin’ to relive something. relieve a few things, too maybe.

right there in his FORD.

Or the Brothers’ Davies’…
where the tones and lyric
are gently somber,
sweetly, softly
arriving
‘just ahead’
of lament…

so it don’t hurt so much.

dirty old river

Waterloo’s Sunset is fine…

================================

so idyllic it has always been

i remember ten years ago or more, saying to my wife
(we had been in our home a half dozen years at that point)

“I don’t think i wanna live in any
one place a really long time, sweetie…”

She was cooking or something in the other room.

“Why is that,” she asked.

I had attained some epiphany of sorts.

life is adaptation

I wanted to test out my theory.

I felt a dread.

It was like when a therapist
would keep telling you

“talking
about it
makes it
so much better”

Oh, shut up.

The statement I made had
seemed to relieve it somewhat.

I had my first opportunity to distill the thought further.

“Well, it’s like, I don’t want a place I live to matter so much to me that I begin to have a sadness about how something that means so much to me, you, our life together, and the actual physical walls of the house, the contour of the edge of this high ceiling, so majestic, and the times we have here, year after year, our Fourth of July’s and Christmas and whatnot… ” and our garden and my thing on the north side of the house (and I think the implied nature of impending, even inevitable parenting) “…

I was trailing off.

why, yes, that is William Margold in Marilyn and the Senator

Crystal came into the room, handing me food or drink and sitting opposite from me on her couch. “What are you talking about?” she pleaded, good-naturedly. “I kinda lost ya there.”

“Well, I mean, then its like a sense of… all this stuff and this place, if it gets too ingrained in me, it will be overwhelming to me how something that means so much me…”
.

I slowed my delivery, looking at my wife’s plaintive countenance.

“What are you talking about,” she repeated. The first time she said it the emphasis had been on what and now she had switched emphasis to the word talking. Subtle.

I continued, less confidently I’m sure. “I mean, I mean, that it’ll be here so very long, years, eons, after I’m gone. And it may mean something to someone who never has any inkling how much this meant to me sitting here now.

There was an enormous pregnant pause.

“Whew, that’s a lotta mumbo jumbo.” She had chutzpah. “All that stuff is just in your mind, dude. It kinda just doesn’t even have an answer, it’s not really even a question, it doesn’t even make sense. Like what people, people who live here, whaddya care they care who lived here before, and that after death thing, I dunno, I don’t think it’ll matter to you then, Keith, and what was the other stuff, contour of the ceiling, whaddya talkin about?”

OK, then

=======

EDITOR’S NOTE: THIS BLOG POST was originally published November 27, 2010. We have yet to resolve, yes, now thirty-eight months, such an issue as most would consider an imperative of the highest concern. There is no solution. Not that I have these past three years had a consciousness-raising experience as a result of declaring we may move. I’m just saying it ain’t a little cottage in the English countryside…

and it ain’t no 865 a month.

Was it ever?

OVER THE LINE!!! (h/t Joel Coen)

=========

In December 2010, CITY LIMITS DVD windows had been redone as ABBYTOWN courtesy a local artist, Terri Swier. During that time frame I received a brief phone call at my place of business nearly seven years, at 216 Westlake Ave N in Seattle, WA. The nature of this discussion began the process by which the 60-year old building has now been demised. Today it stands GRID IRON READY to become the newest jewel in the South Lake Union redux that marks the downtown Westlake corridor that brought so much joy into the Calandra household. So it can finally be revealed that in late DEC 2010 I knew my business would be closing. We knew we had somehow ‘outlasted’ the landlord and that it had somewhat been determined:

I would not have to suffer any of the ignominy foisted upon the shoulders of those businessmen unable to put their affairs in order. So I began. It was a commencement.

You know, the beginning of the end.

SIDEBAR YOUR HONOR

I struggled with this fer a minit… or 53 years. I have no reason or motive to embarrass the woman to whom I was born. But it is germane. Every TUESDAY (designated movie release day) for the seven years I operated the store I made difficult balancing acts happen, whereby dropshipped MOVIES at near zero net after gross expenses SEX IN THE CITY box sets at 15% markup + delivery in a critical time window became in later years ENTOURAGE more like a 22-25% — people need and want to be

That Jones Guy You’re All Supposed To Keep Up With

It’s Called The Walmart Mentality.
You’re a Member Of Sam’s Club.
Knock Yerself Out.

Businessmen such as myself, struggling in a rigged game, engaged in a 70% mix of pornography and 30% mainstream, with 15% hard-fought achievment of front-end legit actual movie TV rentals sales candy and ice cream bodega style, we try to get by with few exposures, it’s all relationships based in trust and confidence, that on that day at opening I have something for them they can stick in their pants like its the biggest in the room. Girls like that stuff. Men who preen. (NOT). Also, some women themselves put a dick in their pants while raising three children but that’s another story. Keeping more to a different story here

WIDE ANGLE
FREEWAY TRAFFIC
conditions clear
sound of ringing phone
(interrupted by man’s voice)

OH, HI MOM.

audio of other end of line
KEITH DO YOU HAVE THAT redacted

THAT CAME OUT TODAY

OH GOOD MORNING MOM
four seconds DEAD AIR

DEAD AIR

man’s voice repeating
perspective of freeway continues
GOOD MORNING MOM

audio in phone female voice
I CAN’T HEAR YOU
HELLO

I CAN HEAR YOU MOM

audio in phone female voice
OH THERE YOU ARE
DO YOU HAVE THAT redacted

YOU KNOW
THE TOM CRUISE

GOOD MORNING MOM
I’M NOT GOING TO SPEAK
UNTIL YOU SAY GOOD MORNING
I’M DRIVING
I’M GOOD
THANKS FOR ASKING

two seconds dead air

SO MOM I HAVE SEVEN COPIES
FOUR PREPAID
THREE FOR MY PEEPS
WHY YOU ONLY CALL ME NOW

ITS TWENTY
THAT’S BUCKS MOM

audio in phone
DOES IT HAVE THAT T SHIRT THE THING

man’s voice freeway perspective
MOM MOM MOM
WHATS UP DO YA NEED SOMETHING
YOU SOUND LIKE A JUNKIE
WHY YOU CALLING ME?
OF ALL PEOPLE…

DON’T YOU HAVE, LIKE,
A PHARMACIST FOR WHEN
YOU GET LIKE THIS?

audio in phone
KEITH LOOK

EXT CLOSEUP
profile of man driving
face accompanies voice
NO HERE’S THE DEAL MOM
THEY ALL HAVE T-SHIRTS. I SEPARATE AND SELL THE SHIRTS FOR GREAT VALUE IN A MONTH OR WHATEVER BUT MY BEST PEEPS PRE-PAYS SOLIDS AND MEN I’M AFRAID OF OR WOMEN I WANNA GET NEAR — SURE –

THEY GET THE PROMO ITEM –

BUT I HAVE A COUPLE UNSPOKEN…

DID YA SEE A COMMERCIAL MOM?

audio in phone female voice (dejected)
OH YOU CAN’T DO IT?

MOM ARE YOU LISTENING? YES DESPITE YOUR LACK OF DECORUM HERE I’LL GIVE YOU ONE OF THE T-SHIRTS. YOU’RE COSTING ME ABOUT TWENTY BUCKS ON TOP OF THE MOVIE THOUGH MOM. ALSO IT’S TWENTY BUCKS. THE MOVIE. THIS IS WHERE YOU SAY BUT ITS 1499 AT WALMART. I’LL BRING IT BY THE HOUSE BY ABOUT 5pm ABBY HAS BALLET AND DADDY NEEDS WORK ON HIS PIRHOUETTES… uhhh, MOMMY SAYS SO

audio in phone
BUT IT IS 1499 AT SAM’S CLUB…

FREEWAY PERSPECTIVE
tone of frustration rising in man’s voice
MOM I GOTTA GO SORRY YOU WEREN’T ABLE TO ACCEPT MY OFFER. THE PROMO ITEMS ARE GONE BY 11am OR SO AT PRETTY MUCH EVERYWHERE AND ITS NEAR NOON. GOOD LUCK. I HAVE A COUPLE OPPORTUNITIES TO BOUNCE YOU A T-SHIRT BUT…

YOU KNOW ORDINARILY IF ANYONE MENTIONED WALMART OR ANYTHING I WOULD HANG UP ABRUPTLY AND CLAIM THE PHONE DID IT. OR IT HE WAS AN ACTUAL PEEP AND RECOGNIZED THE ERROR OF HIS REASONING AND LACK OF LOVING COMPASSION, EVEN IF I DID TALK TO HIM, THE MOVIE WOULD BE THIRTY. IN TWO DAYS NO ONE HAS A COPY. BUY A JUNKED USED COPY. DOESNT LOOK LIKE AS BIG IN YER PANTS BUT——

LOOK MOM I GOTTA GO
=======

Tantamount to any blog post I write here is some sense of honest alignment of those things we profess and what we do. As I announced to Abby the other day, now on the cusp of nine years aged, adults sometimes have small windows by which a process known as reconciliation can occur. I told her reconciliation doesn’t necessarily mean agreement…

It means whatever adults say it means. At that point.

Well, we’re there. people.
Off the train.
Watch your step.
I do. Carefully.

My affairs are in order.
=======
original post 12/23/10

Up early this AM with junior partner Abby in tow; we traipsed down 167 to Jovita Blvd, then up the hill to Edgewood, where Milton Way meets the Enchanted Parkway. Quarter-mile south of the county line, I noted. They call it Surprise Lake up there

…you could look it up.

I explained to Abby this nice lady, a gray-haired matron of the supposed film arts, had encountered my store in the middle of summer, months earlier. Although she didn’t live here, she thought the store something worth remembering at the holidays, and after a few days of back and forth on the telephone, her and daddy had brokered a deal whereby daddy acquired a small collection of items. She had already mailed a check (truly old school!) and we were bringing these items to her. We had a tight window, logistically, being so close to the holiday. She lived in Redwood City, CA and outside Anchorage, AL most of the year, and she comes through in the summer to see her son and grandchildren and again at Christmas, but it would be a rare day indeed if she ventured into the Big City.

“Abbytown was coming to her,” daddy told her.

“Yup.” Ahh, the sweet sound of assent from a child.

brandy alexandre a notorious gateway

In our discussions, my client admitted not being close to her son, but fond enough despite vast distance and differences that she had aggressively acquired this film she recalled enjoying, our solution being this rip from VHS of Who’s Killing the Great Chefs of Europe; these Jack Lemmon items were films she knew he could also enjoy. Bases covered.

The Apartment and Days of Wine and Roses.

“Oh, he’ll enjoy them.” I laughed with Abby.

When I dialed the number, they had been up late, she said, and it would be about half an hour ’til she could meet us. So Abby and I sat talking quietly, she eating her apples, cheese and Goldfish brand snack crackers by the Pepperidge Farm division of Campbell’s Soup and playing with her puzzle book. Stickers, I think. We stood outside just a brief moment, greeted her and gave her the package, and we were off.

“See how she didn’t have to pay daddy,” I told her.

No answer. The junior partner was already fast back at the sticker book, matching up the color of each of the world famous Disney Buena Vista all rights reserved characters to the corresponding circle.

“So, yeah, she doesn’t have to pay.” My voice trailed off.

“She doesn’t have to pay, sweetie,” I repeatedly, more earnestly than before. “She doesn’t have to pay; why is that, sweetie?” I queried.

She had already begun to tell me. “She already paid, daddy, you told me already!” She was emphatic.

“So the money wasn’t the only thing here going on, was it sweetie. She needed something and daddy sure needs something, customers! Huh, sweetie? Know what I mean, darlin’?”

“Uhh-huh. “Whoa, without customers daddy wouldn’t even have a store, sweetie.”

“Gotta eat. Gotta make that money. Gonna get me that money. Just enough!”

She wasn’t really with me on this. I had to take it further.

“Because in the end, darlin’, commerce? When the lady buys something and daddy sells it to her? that’s commerce, sweetie. So she needs something and see, I go get it, sometimes I even have to figure out how to even get it, or what a fair price is for it, and how she and i can get together and get her this stuff she wants, huh sweetie?”

I GUESS AT SOME POINT I stopped talking about business. But commerce is a personal exchange. Sure, Chinamen put merchants at the bottom of the chaste but we’re not discusssssing my inherent racism here, we are engaging in dialogue. Oh NEVERMIND. Suffice it to say it means a lot to daddy that the nice, gray-haired matron realizes she has a source such as myself, no not such as myself
====

…actually me, someone willing to engage in commerce and more than willing to go the extra mile to see that someone’s wants and concerns are satisfied.

“All it takes is a phone call. But…” Daddy builds in big drama.

“Here it comes sweetie, get ready…” Daddy made volcano noises.

Big Booming Voice
“It’s not about PRICE, it’s about NICE!” Daddy is adamant.

“Yup.”

Sweet.

Sooner destroy the full faith and reputation, even the ability of this great nation TO EVEN GOVERN ITSELF than allow the manifest solutions to be found. Erase the scourges of humanity; war, famine, pestulence, disease — and not for a BUCK — No, Great evil will sooner destroy all we hold dear rather than let be exposed the rogue forces that are turning the screws on us all, for their stated purpose: destroying America.

With the onset of the McCarthy era 50 years ago, any perceived threat to U.S. sovereignty post-WW2 shifted to an obsession with the Soviet Union. Roy Cohn, who was legal counsel to Sen. Joseph McCarthy during the anti-Communist Senate investigations of the 1950s, would later become a member of the John Birch Society and a principle figure in the JBS intelligence gathering operation, the Western Goals Foundation. Out of the latter emerged the core group which, in 1981, formed the present Council for National Policy — a consortium of high level political, corporate and evangelical leaders which is the primary coordinating body and funding conduit for Christian Right projects.

It’s the unions they despise.

Sara Diamond’s book, Roads to Dominion: Right-Wing Movements and Political Power in the United States, notes: “Before and after the formation of the John Birch Society, corporations played a major role in rallying the public to the anticommunist cause.” In 1947, the Taft-Hartley Act contained provisions that granted corporations the right to distribute literature to counter labor union organizing — a movement they blamed on the communists. To reduce the cost of producing and distributing anti-Communist materials, corporations turned to non-profit organizations such as the JBS.

’60′s a prelude to ALEC

“By 1963, corporations were spending an estimated $25 million per year on anti-communist literature. Some corporations circulated print and audio-visual materials produced by the John Birch Society; other corporations produced their own in-house literature…By the early 1960s, the Nation magazine reported that there was a minimum of 6,600 corporate-financed anticommunist broadcasts, carried by more than 1,300 radio and television stations at a total annual budget of about $20 million…Leading sponsors included Fred Koch, father of today’s family cabal, Texas oil billionaire H.L. Hunt and Howard J. Pew of Sun Oil. The corporate sector’s massive anticommunist propaganda campaigns created a favorable climate for the mobilization of activist groups like the John Birch Society.”

Viola! Thus is born
The Mouthpiece of That
Which Has Ended Civility:
Right Wing Radio

the money behind current day media giants makes
it quite lucrative for pablum ad nauseum.

A major threat to the John Birch Society was reduced to a footnote in history, late in 1963. Never should have gone to Dallas. Countless continuing crimes  since of which we will never know. Today, they are baldfaced. “Capitulate, America,” they admonish.

But it is since that moment they own us

Capitulate today to free-speech zones demobilizing redress, endless war in the face of public mandate for peace, food on our plates we simply trust will keep us made whole by our affectation for genetic science; whoa. Have we thought this through, people? THERE ARE SIMPLY NO ANSWERS to the uber:rich guarding their economic standing with jack-booted thugs, well, in suits actually… capitulate, America, to tax rates where wall st types pay no soc sec and 15% marginal, corporations jack up earned tax credits from legislation they themselves write, and still we poison ourselves with 500,000 FRAC wells and 24/7 ad nauseum corporate media lies in.our.face. We are reduced to A Mob knowing nothing about the very subjects we proselytize. Our liberty is threatened, and not metaphorically, literally.

man, we gotta chill

see what I mean