Lockdown in Boston

A voice on the recording warns all residents to "stay inside". TV journalists warn "it is very dangerous out here, stay inside". But I went out anyway. The streets in Cambridge are virtually empty, but just a few blocks over, in Somerville, people eat ice cream and stop in the Dollar store. Last night, endless sirens passed through Harvard Square as I chatted with my friend K. We looked at each other but I figure, "a fire". No idea about what was going on in Watertown. I found out first from a guy waiting at the bus stop. "An MIT cop got shot." I thought it was unrelated. Then the young woman in the grocery store, which was eerily quiet, looked so upset. 1 am and she is working alone, only one other worker sitting on a bench 50 feet away. "Did you hear? The cop died." I said, "Oh no, that's terrible." Then she said, "And there were explosions in Watertown." I tried to reassure her. "Oh, it's probably a gas main or some electrical outage." She looked extremely doubtful. I am glad for the two college students who said they couldn't believe the younger brother was really involved. Glad for the father who claimed his sons were "set up". I am glad now when people doubt the "official version" of anything, since we have all been lied to so frequently. Still it does look like the older brother may have flipped--but why? He had a young daughter and a wife. A brother who looked up to him, a home here. I would have liked to hear his side of the story, but that is forever silenced. What happened here at the Marathon was horrible. I wept for the poor little boy Martin, "No more hurting people. Peace." And the other victims. Like everyone else, I have been in shock all week. But it is also horrible when the police, as happens far too often, are given the power to be judge and executioner. We have a system of justice, remember? Yes, rapidly eroded but still standing. These young men should have been arrested and brought to justice, if for no other reason than to allow the victims to face them, to demand, "Why?" and to say, "Look what you have done to me, to my family?" And again, "Why?" When the police are allowed to act as judge and executioner, we move closer to a state without due process, without justice, and we are all deprived of the right to ask "Why?",

Need some FUN RIGHT NOW!!!

So I am now ready for a fling, an affair, to meet the love of my love, have some FUN, someone to look after me. Nicole Kidman, big movie star with all kinds of security around her actually said: "I like a relationship with a strong man. I need protection." Well heck, so do I. I need a person, no a BUNCH of people, in my life RIGHT NOW to look after me, fight the bullies, stand up for me, speak up for me, protect me. Really, I think we all do. We need connection, love, people to look out for us. We need to look out for each other. Take time to take care. Spend less time on TV and internet games and shopping and spacing out and more time connecting, helping, loving. I've been through a REALLY rough 6 months. It began with a crazy crazy crazy ex-roommate, a true psychopath, smiling through her hidden evil plans. She moved out and I breathed a sigh of relief, but the "fun" had only just begun. She pulled all KINDS of crap, amazing crap. I won't go into it all now...maybe later. But I have been left having to run around cleaning up messes, stand up to bullies, fight back against threats and intimidation and betrayals, over and over again in the past 6 months. Unreal. Un fricking real. I hope to hell I am learning something through these trials and tribulations. I sure as hell hope so. I think of Bradley Manning and I am so inspired and saddened, angry and amazed. How has he kept his sanity through 1000 days of bullying, isolation, extreme injustice? I hope one day I can meet him in person and thank him for his service to humanity, in simply trying to reveal the truth. He is a true hero. Thanks Bradley.

You Might Think, Or Maybe Not...

I haven't written in awhile, as you can see. Got tired of being surveilled, both by my rather obsessed older sister, and by the even more obsessed PTB (Powers That Be, or Pretty Tricky Brats, or whatever other acronym you want to come up with). I really DO wish Google was not part of the "keywords" crap. I met a young man who proudly informed me he will be going to Harvard's Kennedy School, to eventually work with Special Forces in the military. He looked so shiny-faced and earnest. I said, "Well I really hope you will take your training to do some investigation into the REAL criminals in this world." He tilted his head, not sure what was coming. "And by that I mean, the leaders of the US government and their allies, the CEOs of major corporations and oil companies. People like that." I think my young friend nearly fainted at the thought of investigating his bosses. "Wouldn't it be GREAT to know what was really going on behind the scenes? You could make that happen! I mean, THOSE are the people who need to be spied upon, if anyone, not some peace-loving protester!" He had started to twitch and blush and slowly backed away, making his excuses. Very sad to see, at this late late point in our planet's crushing climate change, brought on by greed, wars, stupidity, lack of vision, lack of love and the pure, simple inability to share, that ANY country is still training "Special Forces" to engage in clandestine (and illegal) activities. You might think, if you were from a much more advanced planet, that we would have figured out LONG ago that such an antiquarian system of power and exploitation, war and lies, does NOT lead to longevity for the human species. You might think. Or feel. Or care. Or reflect. But unfortunately, it seems the greedy destructive psychopaths in power just don't do ANY of that.

TeaBaggers and Class Warfare Hahaha!

This is my post from a Yahoo story on Obama's plan to raise money for job creation by taxing the rich (and the right wing then crying "Class Warfare!"), with reply from Phil T:

"I love the way these teabaggers twist the truth. The class warfare has been going on for quite some time now. It is a war of the rich (and banks, oil boys, wall street, big corporations) AGAINST everyone else. The rich run this country, change laws to suit themselves, make sure they pay almost nothing in taxes, and then when Obama finally has the guts to stand up and say, "Hey, maybe you guys should pay something similar in taxes to a middle class working person", they get their teabagging hacks to scream "Class warfare". What a bunch of soulless creeps, no ethics and no concern for anyone but their corporate sugar daddies. Man, if there is a hell, they are surely going to burn in it when their time comes.

1 Reply

PhilT

Yeah, it's good the rich can't buy their way out of dying!"

So far 6 thumbs up and only 2 thumbs down from the pay-for-hire teabagger hacks who troll the internet desperately searching for any signs of intelligence, aiming to quickly shoot it down.

Clearly the plan of the Rich Corporate Elite (and their teabagger hacks) is to turn the USA into an old-style third world economy. You really have to wonder what kind of nightmare childhood these creeps experienced to end up as such heartless, soulless sick psychopaths.

Neysa Malone Red Dress edit.m4v

Psycho Roommate Questionnaire

Over the years, I have had PLENTY of experiences with roommates, good and bad. Due to some recent unpleasant experiences, as well as a few painful old ones, I am now concluding that a VERY detailed questionnaire is probably in order when interviewing potential roommates, particularly to rule out psychos, exhibitionists, thieves and other criminals and scary people. Here is part one of my first draft:

1. Do you plan to walk around in your underwear or worse, nude, within the first 24 hours of moving in?
2. Do you have a tendency to stare fixedly at boxes of tea whilst holding them in the air, for, say, 5 minutes or more, while mumbling to yourself?
3. Do you have a tendency to leave the bathroom door unlocked and then laugh demonically if your roommate walks in, unawares?
4. When you pack up to move out, do you plan to also pack half my stuff in those boxes and take it with you as well?
5. Do you plan to remove all my furniture from the living room while I am at the grocery store, store it in the storage area, and replace it with all YOUR furniture?
6. Do you plan to come to my door in the middle of the night while I am sleeping and knock softly on my door, because, after all, I am a woman and you are "a man"? And to do so on the very first night?
7. If you have a problem--say, the internet is a little slow one day-- do you plan to run down the hall screaming at me at the top of your lungs?
8. If you have a fight with your girlfriend, do you plan to come home and rub perfume on my cats, in an effort to make them ill?
9. When I object to this practice, do you plan to threaten to throw them off the balcony?
10. When I call the police about this, do you then plan to leave a large note taped to the lid of the toilet, "Let the games begin"?


OK, you may have gotten the sense that most of these psycho cases are male, and if you have, you are right. But the thief, furniture remover and screamer were all women. So it's about 75% lunatic males and 25% lunatic females. I'd say that's a pretty accurate representation of real life statistics, wouldn't you?

I plan to write more on this entertaining topic at a later date. But right now I need to sleep, since my most recent psycho roommate (#1 on the list, who paraded around in his underwear on his very first night, and YES I did tell him NEVER EVER to do that again, or he will be out on his ass) kept me awake, wondering if he planned to knock on my door stark-naked in the middle of the night. Something like that weirdo who showed up at my hammock in the Palapas at midnight in Mexico, eyes all aglow and completely naked. What did he think I would do? Jump his bones? I just asked, in a very annoyed and bored voice, "Yeah? Waddya want?" The crazy guy stood there expectantly. Couldn't I see he had what it takes? I yawned, "I'm tired. I'm going to sleep. Go away." He was shocked at my apparent immunity to his charms, but he left. Thank goddess. GOOD NIGHT!!!

My Inner Self, and Pete Cassani's Beautiful Whaling Guitar

So tonight I was in Harvard Square, waiting to square off against my newest psycho roommate, soon to be gone bye-bye, not wanting to see him at all but needing to get it over with so I can move on with my life. Finally the guy arrives. I present my case for a deduction in his refund, due to all the crap he pulled in the one short week he stayed at my house, and in the background I can hear Pete Cassani's beautiful guitar. As we begin to wind things up, the volume goes up and up over in the Pit. I assume the monitor has long gone, since it is quite close to midnight. Pete is playing lead guitar to Roger Nicholson's rhythm guitar. Roger has been singing some songs, Pete has been taking the solos. As I say good-bye to my now ex-roommate, alcoholic and unpleasantly unpredictable and young and irresponsible and quite wealthy and no doubt carrying a very sad story in his soul, Pete's guitar solo starts to REALLY soar.

I feel relieved that this most recent saga is over. I LISTENED to my inner self quite QUICKLY for a change. She was REALLY freaking out about this guy, almost the minute he arrived from Germany. My outer self, who represents insane socialization to be blindly "nice" and "understanding" without regard to my own needs and safety, and a long history of being lied to for the sake of other's needs and addictions, was confused. "But he doesn't seem THAT bad? What's the big deal?"

My inner self would have NONE of it and would not let me sleep more than 4 hours a night for the first few days of his arrival. She was virtually SCREAMING at me inside my head, "GET RID OF HIM, NOW!!!"

The most amazing thing is that I am sure she realized almost immediately that he is a totally messed up alcoholic, whereas my lied to socialized self only fully realized it tonight, after one week, when I saw him in front of me, half drunk as I discussed the problems he had caused in one short week. And I realized that he had probably been drunk almost every night, since he arrived late and fumbling and loud from a night out with friends, 5 nights out of the 7 he had been at my house.

I felt like Pete's guitar playing was giving me courage, and I just spoke up clearly and firmly. The soon to be ex-roommate agreed to the various deductions in his refund, gave me the keys and finally we were done!

As I walked to my bike, I swear, Pete's guitar was flying to the heavens. I don't know if I have ever heard him play so beautifully. It was just Pete, the volume cranked up, and this amazingly gorgeous waterfall of music cascading through most of Harvard Square, showering everyone with incandescent stardust, love and JOY!!!

Thanks for the help Pete! I had forgotten how beautifully you play. And how healing, powerful music can be. Pure magic.