For Sale: Lucchese Cowboy Boots.


Up for sale and on eBay auction: my father’s Lucchese Cowboy Boots.

Size: 8.5 D
Color: Black

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On the reading list: Inventing the Addict


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I recently purchased two copies of Susan Ziegers book Inventing the Addict. I intended to share the second copy with a friend but paused instead.

My home State is Alabama. In the past 16 years, the State has introduced health and wellness curriculums into it’s four year and two year college systems and I speculate that around 30% of cities have more than one kind of recycling program in operation, such as trash, newspapers, and fuel for city vehicles.

Alabama has been a conservative State since before the Civil War, regardless of the governing political party. Even liberal politicians up unto the Siegelman administration were “Southern” liberals. While a subtle difference it’s not something to overlooked as miniscule. Bernie Sanders supporters in Alabama, like those who once favored Ross Perot, tend to adhere to a patterned discourse that corrals modernism within a traditional framework.

I have inadvertently found myself reviewing the convergence of different topics in the historiography of idealism. I’ve laid on my bed each evening looking at this cover and waited for an inspired zen whack on the head rather than crack the cover. Intellectual constipation is never pleasant and it seems the entire world wide web of social media and journalism have succumbed to the same stupor. If this malaise is “convenient” by any given standard, the premise of some subsumed essential illumination and clarity remains buried and burdened by a lack of descriptive terms.

Inventing the Addict purports to illuminate the history of health and wellness in a reflexive fashion: not by cataloging what wellness is, but by recording what wellness is not. Some critical reviews of the use of reflexive language when deployed in this manner typically reinforce and by default reintroduce “decentered subjects” according to principles that ultimately derive from axiology. This “decentered” approach to “truth” is defined in many historical genres as aposterori logic and-or literary romanticism because of it’s axiological response to teleology.

I hope reading this will not be a quagmire from which I fail to escape.

Stay tuned for a forthcoming review on this book in the next 45 days.

The limits of militant modernism: Satanism 2016


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Is Satanism more than human or just a modern day “Tartar Yoke”?

The video above was filmed 2015 in Lansing Michigan on the steps of the State Capitol. I almost think I’ve seen it elsewhere and prior to 2015. I’ve never been in interested in Satanism or it’s history. The history of domestic propaganda circulated thru Facebook however is a documented phenomena.

I recently purchased two copies of the Pulitzer prize winner Richard Ofshe’s 1994 book Making Monsters False memories, psychotherapy and sexual hysteria. As of now, I haven’t made it to the chapter on the “Satanic Panic” but I already suspected that eugenics was the body in question.

Given the global trauma of 911, what are those of us who still inhabit the middle ground of intellectualism to do or say about Satanism or reactions to it circa 2016?

Trump and the recent news that a California court has cleared Trump University for misleading students in the schools Real Estate division under the liability in question says something and nothing.

Humanism is not only purported to be one, if not “the” link to Marxism but also Satanism and ONLY WITH THE CAVEAT of Art via Axiology to differentiate both and either from a definition of “essentialism” that purports to have a decentered monopoly.

I am afraid my response is that it’s time for me to throw in my towel and cast a “No” vote. I am not educated enough in all the necessary angles. Turn off your Facebook news feed.

I say this as a sexual abuse survivor, as the daughter of a recovered anorexic and bulimic, as a child briefly raised Jehovah’s Witness until the age of 6, as the daughter of a believer in Christian Identity, as a CAM practitioner, the niece of a transcultural psychotherapist that practiced mental health in Japan and the UK and a former foreign correspondent for NBC Asia. As the niece of a human resource manager under the State Department for embassies overseas and occasional lecturer in Washington. I say this again as the sister of a recovered substance abuser, the relative by marriage of retired a Air Force vet who survived Don’t Ask Don’t Tell with a son in tow.

I’m honest enough to call a spade a spade. And smart enough to know I don’t know enough.

Good night Ladies and Gentlemen. Please Excuse Me. I thought the US had a President. Not a political prisoner and former Governor from Alabama’s Grid Iron auditioning for a future role in Steven Spielberg’s Star Wars franchise.

Open letter on privacy: closer to fine


The Indigo Girls wrote and performed a song titled Closer to Fine in the 1980’s. I loved it then and now. There is a line from the song that has always had significance for me.

Given the news that Dame Helen Mirren will be playing the role of Sarah Winchester in the aptly titled film by the same last name, I sat down oddly aware and weakened simultaneously. The only reason I can ascertain for the feeling is subject to a divergent post modern theme to which I would rather avoid for the most part at this juncture circa 2016.

Back to the Indigo Girls.

“Closer To Fine”

I’m trying to tell you something about my life
Maybe give me insight between black and white
The best thing you’ve ever done for me
Is to help me take my life less seriously, it’s only life after all
Well darkness has a hunger that’s insatiable
And lightness has a call that’s hard to hear
I wrap my fear around me like a blanket
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it, I’m crawling on your shore. 

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine. 

I went to see the doctor of philosophy
With a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee
He never did marry or see a B-grade movie
He graded my performance, he said he could see through me
I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind, got my paper
And I was free. 

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine. 

I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m.
To seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend
I woke up with a headache like my head against a board
Twice as cloudy as I’d been the night before
I went in seeking clarity. 

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine. 

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine. 

We go to the bible, we go through the workout
We read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout
There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine
The closer I am to fine.

The song above is to me, on par with U2’s Where the streets have no name. NEITHER song is the wrong choice on ANY given day because with both, ontology is subject to teleology. And isn’t that a lesson that I never questioned or predicated with the post modern “For whom?”….

If any curious passer by happens upon a crisis, a conspiracy or what’s left of a corpse and a corpus and bothers to ask questions, someone remind my betters that “crawling on strange shores” so to speak was more and less than anyone knew.

The innocent and the guilty do know who they are.

Period.

Echoes, Alan Rickman and Teleology


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I wrestled with catharsis today. The lack of sleep has now extended to at least the 36 hour mark. As I laid across my bed, prolonging my own discomfort in the present with cigarettes and soda and for the future, when they both run out, I suddenly became still. And gratefully, my mind began to drift. After an hour of contemplation on various themes I have for many years felt and sensed a unpleasant disconnect from,  Alan Rickman of all human beings, walked thru my mind both backward, forward and as a metaphor after the fact.

The odd decentering of my inner life thru pop culture suddenly back in focus brought me close to “meaning” which is something like being close to God and the divine. Grace is another good word. Daylight, utter darkness and in between. I did not once see the face but I knew the movies my mind presented.

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The classic (to me ) Sense and Sensibility from the 90’s. The scene where Kate Winslet finally accepted him, as he read poetry wasn’t the scene in my mind but that was the upshot. I saw his red jacket and hat when he was in the reeds.

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In utter darkness with only the prior thought in mind, his back appeared as if Professor Snape at a distance was still teaching about idealism and the roles surrounding a golemesque judgment.

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And the final verse, which did provoke a measured musing I am prayerfully sending to stir action tomorrow did in fact come first, during the writing of the card that will accompany it. Runes. And from months ago, a memory of all good, dry, solid things mixed in the mortar of The Tower.

Good night, Godspeed and remain blessed.

What I remember of process philosophy


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I remember being a student at ASM and missing the deadline to work on the cast for that years presentation of The Nutcracker.

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The Fox Theatre in Atlanta is a genuine treat. The ceiling is every child’s dream. I saw the Native American musical Spirit with a classmate.

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While I wasn’t privileged to venture backstage at The Fox, I did make it to a small stage at Agnes Scott college.

Process Philosophy was also something I picked up in Atlanta. I am currently reconsidering several elements of my life that include my profession, my finances and my own health.

I recently received an email inviting me to Nevada for an interview. The timing however may not give me enough time to deal with several necessary steps for the job, including both passport processing and necessary dental work. If I do postpone it, it won’t be the first time I’ve stumbled thanks to thinking too much. But what is left of my professionalism now that the culture vultures have eaten their fill and thrown me from one gutter into another and left kind hearted souls with my corpse to dispose of?

The joys of self pity and consolations of narcissism remain beneath my heterosexual dignity, have no doubt.

I am however actually on the mend. No thanks to universal coverage might I add!

Here is a toast to another year of legally dodging that damnable conflagration of  interstate commerce with the body of natural philosophy that HAS NO LEGAL PROTECTIONS. Privacy is not a legally enshrined “right” under the constitution but a custom alone. Not even a privilege granted by the States.

Election day will dawn. God help me to vote and not lie about ideology at the same.

Amen.

Musing


Idealism implies judgment

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Graduate School: Emory Law or UC Boulder?


Irony Alert: Sordid details to follow brief news

I have a preliminary phone interview scheduled with Emory Law later this month now that my application is complete and has been processed. The price of the JM degree is EXACTLY the same as the JD or Juris Doctor. Despite this obvious insanity of me at 4(1) adding debt of this kind with no assets and an existing tab that I have not paid the interest on, I am planning to apply with UC Boulder by the end of this month as well.

I do have tentative plan to at least chip at my debt and take care of necessities but it would entail postponing school until January of 17, rather than this fall.

As for my personal life there is no news. Of course, no news is just as sordid AS news as all enquiring minds know.

Happy? At least someone is.

Piece by Piece: The House that Heidi Built


Stay with me a minute….

“Piece By Piece”
Kelly Clarkson

And all I remember is your back
Walking towards the airport, leaving us all in your past
I traveled fifteen hundred miles to see you
Begged you to want me, but you didn’t want to

But piece by piece, he collected me
Up off the ground, where you abandoned things, yeah
Piece by piece he filled the holes that you burned in me
At six years old and you know, he never walks away
He never asks for money, he takes care of me
He loves me
Piece by piece, he restored my faith
That a man can be kind and a father could… stay

And all of your words fall flat
I made something of myself and now you want to come back
But your love, it isn’t free, it has to be earned
Back then I didn’t have anything you needed so I was worthless

But piece by piece, he collected me
Up off the ground, where you abandoned things, yeah
Piece by piece he filled the holes that you burned in me
At six years old and you know, he never walks away
He never asks for money, he takes care of me
He loves me
Piece by piece, he restored my faith
That a man can be kind and a father could… stay

Piece by piece [x6]

Piece by piece I fell far from the tree
I will never leave her like you left me
And she will never have to wonder her worth
Because unlike you I’m going to put her first
And you know, he’ll never walk away,
He’ll never break her heart
He’ll take care of things, he’ll love her
And piece by piece, he’ll restore my faith
That a man can be kind and a father should be great

Piece by piece [x3]

I heard this song for the first time tonight and I am once again moved to tears by the thrill of well chosen words set to music. I do more than once double take in the paragraphs above.
“To a poet silence is an acceptable response. Even a Flattering one. ~ Colette
I think more may have come of the lyrics perhaps but then again….I JUST APPLIED TO EMORY LAW FOR THE JURIS MASTER’S PROGRAM!!!!!! Apple, Orange and a Kiwi? All different. While I do not see me writing music in this lifetime I do plan think artistically while studying intellectual property AND it’s link to PRIVACY.
Zen silence.

The Hiatus is Terminated


“Piece By Piece”

Kelly Clarkson

And all I remember is your back
Walking towards the airport, leaving us all in your past
I traveled fifteen hundred miles to see you
Begged you to want me, but you didn’t want to

But piece by piece, he collected me
Up off the ground, where you abandoned things, yeah
Piece by piece he filled the holes that you burned in me
At six years old and you know, he never walks away
He never asks for money, he takes care of me
He loves me
Piece by piece, he restored my faith
That a man can be kind and a father could… stay

And all of your words fall flat
I made something of myself and now you want to come back
But your love, it isn’t free, it has to be earned
Back then I didn’t have anything you needed so I was worthless

But piece by piece, he collected me
Up off the ground, where you abandoned things, yeah
Piece by piece he filled the holes that you burned in me
At six years old and you know, he never walks away
He never asks for money, he takes care of me
He loves me
Piece by piece, he restored my faith
That a man can be kind and a father could… stay

Piece by piece [x6]

Piece by piece I fell far from the tree
I will never leave her like you left me
And she will never have to wonder her worth
Because unlike you I’m going to put her first
And you know, he’ll never walk away,
He’ll never break her heart
He’ll take care of things, he’ll love her
And piece by piece, he’ll restore my faith
That a man can be kind and a father should be great

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