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Brokeback Obama is grinning
Recovery memes he is spinning
When not chasing bulls
His pistol he pulls
Relieved that he's no longer sinning
The Limerick King
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Jackson Browne-Late For The Sky Full Album
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2qtsUKe2dUY
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Cowboy up motherfuckers.
Meadows was stripped of his chairmanship because he voted against "leadership" on TPP.
http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/3302367/posts
Jackson Browne-Late For The Sky Full Album
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2qtsUKe2dUY
.
Rick Danko Levon Helm
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zrlgtUUYLv8
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Ranch Party - Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline and Carl Perkins
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2kNoCl5GV2Y
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Harold Hawkshaw Hawkins jr Lonesome 77203
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G4Bka-mmSFw
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it just goes on from before all that.
my mother died on father's day
and the world will not
let me forget it.
Patsy Cline Singing Crazy "Live" on the Grand Ole Opry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FYtrGjJOMpE
Keynesian Stimulus
This here pitchur incited muh latent homosexual tendancies.
The Band (feat.The Staples) - The Weight
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xD8rlyM9sXI
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"It Makes No Difference" The Band 9/2/83
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uSHzODm-Ik8
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the truth is recovery happens but there
is a required initial realization from which
it is born/based. without that there is just more
twisted bullshit. "eat your shit." steve hughes
as Cynthia McKinney said ...
paraphrase 'the wars are being conducted in black face.'
.
Cynthia McKinney: The ultimate insult to my integrity is that we have a black man bombing Africa
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZkBbnRL06q4
"recovery"
this will be a difficult post to finish...and i don't really know why i'm doing it -- perhaps catharsis or something like that.
janus never even saw marijuana in his high school years...i believe i've mentioned this, but janus was reared in a very 'religious' home; and things like drugs and such-like were as alien to my experience as, well, aliens.
and so, leaving such a home and going to college wherein i pledged membership to the olde-school/olde-money frat in dixie was a radical departure from all the familiar forms that had, up to that time, characterized the essence of my rather insulated and regimented existence.
drugs were everywhere...even in mississippi. this was the early 90s. widespread panic, the dead, phish...we were always caravaning from one gig to another -- and occasionally going to class when it didn't interfere with our principal pursuits -- sex, drugs & rock & roll.
and i don't mean fairly harmless shit like weed and whatnot. there were hard drugs on call at all times.
partying became a fairly serious enterprise; and we undertook the matter in that spirit. i suppose i should also mention that we were, in spite of our recklessness, somewhat disciplined about things. we were all from good homes and whatnot; and so we were, in our own idiotic ways, careful not to let things spin out of control. but, just to give some indication of the level of our involvement, janus and a few of the krew were regulars down in laredo del sur...had some 'caribbean' contacts in florida for other things...and even at one point developed this 'relationship' with some 'folk's from monterrey, mx.
shit, gentlemen, janus spent one of the most depraved summers in amorican history terrorizing the florida panhandle from our operations hub in destin, fl. (that would be the summer of 94'). greydon beach used to be a paradise on earth...back before the fuckin yuppies discovered the red bar and they banned late night bon fires on the beach.
it was about this time that my father came to visit janus on campus once he returned to school after "the summer of depravity", there in starkville, ms. actually, i was living on nash st.; smack-dab in the middle of the 'cotton district', few blocks off campus. at the time, i had this sweet lil 280zx...amazing car that i would, not four months after that visit, smash in an accident after consuming a fifth of jack and two valium. my uncle pee-wee (it's a joke of a nick-name; dude's like 6-3' and 240), came with his 4x4 the next morning and hooked the 280 up to his winch; and the rest is history for my beloved 280zx turbo.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hZhY6wT_a2g
i still miss that car. but uncle pee-wee was none too proud of janus. his own father having destroyed so much due to wiskey's demonic influence...but he kept it all to himself -- never judged janus, just always gentle in his loving advice.
but it was during that visit from my father, shortly before smashing the nissan, that i discovered something. my father inadvertently left his prescription for something called 'prosac' in my 280. i thought very little of it at the time; other than it striking me as highly unusual that my father, a man who was cautious about taking aspirin (always give prayer space to work in your life, etc. etc.), would suddenly be taking prescription pills, the abandon script bottle didn't phase me much. just tossed it in the trash and went about my affairs.
it would take me years to connect the two, but not long after this prosac business began, my father started down a road upon which he remains to this day; he started shedding life-long friends and his behavior assumed some very unsavory attributes. he just wasn't the same person...none of knew why...but he's your dad, and, well...i'll just leave it there -- it's an incredibly painful subject to think about.
anyway, back to janus and his fucking-up.
i could recount all manner of embarrassing, dangerous and otherwise shameful exploits...but i'll for the time being focus on the death-element of this shit -- drugs & alcohol.
so there was this chic with whom i'd shared a few nights of fun. we were planning another one, and it began with cocktails, cocaine and a few pills to balance everything out. we were going to crawl through the back-roads of lowndes county and find some restaurant or the other overlooking a pond.
the last thing i remember was 'tonya' saying, "i love curves like this."
i reckon we hit those trees going 70 or so. i went through the windshield twice. sliced my face up good; peeled my brow back a bit. janus was fortunate enough to be in the good graces of some good folks, and some specialists came to columbus, ms to stitch my face back together best they could. still grateful, Drs. should'a probably lost my right eye...have a skin graft on my eye-lid from my ass.
scars and souvenirs, gentlemen...that's all i got in this world.
anyway, not long after this janus moved to the bayou near lafayette, la., where i met mrs. janus.
a kid came not long after, not long after we moved to aiken, sc.
and so it was that we started making friends with locals and such. still have several friends from that span of my life -- great friends. one of whom is in the grave.
i feel this enormous ache wash through my soul as i remember "Jeff". what an incredible human being. perfect 800 on the math SAT...electrical engineer, full-ride from clemson. truly elegant mind...could speak on subjects varied and infinitely complex. the kind of beautiful mind that can hold lots of moving parts at once, and collate them into coherence.
"Jeff" & janus were dabblers back in the day. we like to play with opiates.
one day, several years later, when janus was at his desk while serving in the USAF, i got a call from "mike" in aiken, sc.
"Jeff's dead."
seems he started injecting shit...and a few instant release morphine pills, a needle, spoon & a bleak outlook on life were all it took. one of america's golden boys is now worm-food...and it still, 14 years later, stings with a pain i cannot describe. look, this guy was Strom Thrumond's next door neighbor -- this scourge of drugs has penetrated every level of society...it was uncomfortable going to that funeral for many reasons; not least of which was the rage i felt at "Jeff's" carelessness. it took me years to forgive him. and i felt great shame in that baptist church. the looks i got. i knew they were projecting some blame onto janus...and i reckon i deserve(d) it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVuiCfIFKT0
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NBwC7Qzljso
and so, in the ensuing years, janus continued to 'dabble' here & there. i had these silly rules i'd abide to keep up the pretense of propriety and such. but, still, i loved to cocoon my inner-self from the slings & arrows of outrageous fortune with blissful buffering of sundry intoxicants.
during this time, my parents slowly and steadily added more & more pills to their 'medications'. it got so bad that they'd literally nod-out mid conversation. they were/are a perpetual embarrassment. i concluded that retirement for them meant the endless miasma of a narco-induced haze. i broke relations with them; tried to reconcile; still the same shit. addicts are just hurtful people...they are fundamentally passive/aggressive and displace their shame on the ones they love. i wish i had the strength to keep dealing with those two; but i had to realize that i don't.
now, this all brings me to the present tense...as in right now. so, i have this life-long soul-brother from my time in the USAF. we used to joke that our squadron's missions took us from the coca fields of columbia (pre-911...plan columbia) to the poppy fields of the 'stans' (post-911...operation bizzaro-world). and that's basically true.
as many of you know, there was a time when the VA was eager to give guys like us basically anything we wanted. ideally, we were to be on a cocktail of opiates, barbituates & ssris. many of amorica's best have opted to accept this rot and filth. my buddy was one of them.
look, we all have pain...pain is a part of life itself. and there are times when pain-killers are necessary; even in situations of long-term therapy. optimally, opiates should only be used for acute situations...however, they remain the most effective of all pain killers. i still say legalize it all....that way, the junkie is under no illusions -- that 'med' is a VICE, not medicine. and through legalization, the psychology of abuse assumes a different hue. as it stands, there will ALWAYS be junkies soliciting drs. for their junk. anyway, i don't want to get lost in the bramble of drug policy; this is a personal missive for a friend.
back to my buddy...so, to treat what i would consider slightly-above moderate back pain, he'd been prescribed something called opana. even janus, with all his knowledge of pharmacopia, had no idea what this shit was. chemically speaking, it is oxy-morphone. and understanding that heroine is hydro-morphone, this means that this opana (oxy-morphone) is 'twice' as potent as heroine. for fuckin mild back pain, for a man in his mid-thirties? some doctor needs to go before a review board; if you ask janus.
and so it was that my buddy discovered that these pills could be melted and injected.
in the last four or five months, i've had to patiently listen to one of my best friends describe 3 separate brushes with death.
he's now in intensive treatment at a very good place in north alabama...and his former fiance (whom he nearly ran-off for good under the sway of that satanic opiate) is tending to him with gracious and loving care.
judge all you fuckers want. my buddy just lost his father. never had a 'real' mother. went through a divorce nearly three years ago. he'd just lost hope.
looking back and then looking forward, i have to say that, no matter whether i've been able to hold things together and maintain some measure of propriety, i think i'm going to purge my life of all these things...stand in solidarity with my brother as he heals.
when i finished my six-pack last night, i sat and asked myself, "janus, why did you just drink that shit? you don't really feel any better. you drank alone and listened to music. how fuckin pathetic. why do you keep utilizing chemicals to get somewhere you really don't want to be? can you not see the damage this shit (not just booze...all of it) has wrought in your life? nothing but waste and despair and destruction."
i couldn't really come up with any good answers.
for those who pray, please pray for my buddy back in alabama. he's a really great guy...y'all would love him -- he, unlike janus, is actually likable.
"Xxx", janus wants you to know that you're in his thoughts at all moments. i love you, my brother. always have/always will.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1N8GtDkYfQ
please don't confront me with my failures/
i have not forgotten them,
janus
Wow Janus that's heavy duty, You wrote this hoping someone would understand your position and would have some answers/help for you.
I too have been down in this place you speak of. There was only one way of getting reconciled and healed and that was to turn my life over to the Creator, you might want to give that a try... I can't believe I wasted so much of my life to listening to the lies from the Destroyer, who also just happens to be the same piece of shit the globalist worship, whom they also believe will give them eternal life with technology allowing them to cheat death.. HA.
"The Devils a tricky motherfu$%$er"
- Richard Pryor 1974
Listen to this song
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tx97Jrbrhvw
Maybe start with some Derek Prince
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ed8j33e8viE
Then get yourself into a Bible study and get WISDOM with this old x-Marine
http://www.shepherdschapel.com/media/sc/4_27_2015_hi_vid.wmv
Just change the date to move on to the next study (no weekends)
Rock on
As an AF brat I feel your pain, as USMC fuck your pain. Overcome and and overwhelm. That said, I had to succumb to a pain pill I've resisted for weeks. The nerve damage is too intense lately, though I've tried to ignore it. Fuck it, washed it down with a beer.
It still hurts, and I don't think there's any amount of pills that will stop it.
Sometimes you just have to endure. Even when the pain sends electric shocks down your spine and arms.
I was never one to get into drugs...a fucking aspirin will knock my ass out. And I'm pretty sure that this pain pill will eventually put me down for a couple of days. I never had the curiosity, or desire, to fuck around with chemicals other than alcohol and nicotine. I really have no reference to sympathize.
But as I said, sometimes, you just have to endure.
j,
every soul has its own trajectory. we
are presented with an illusion to our
perceptive capacities and cognitive faculties,
one that suggests that we have influence over
our peers, we don't. they will do what they do
and reject our influence, or embrace it, but
it is of their own nature that they will proceed.
that is, it is not your fault. "it" is not yours.
it is what it is, may become yours, may be
of that which created you, but, not you as
responsible creative agent just yet. no?
.
"it" is your path, you did not derive or make it,
you walk it and live it. there one finds one "self"....
now is your time to fly, to float above it all
with led laden wings, amazingly. i celebrate that
.
Jean Shepard - The Tips Of My Fingers
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ozTJcu-_BU
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Rock Me on the Water
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAXl4kYZyoA
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Jackson Browne-Saturate Before Using [Full Album] 1972
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vUmcknBeWWE
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my heart breaks along the way,
the stars burn and know.
....
Trim those sails to keep moving forward. You sound like an experienced navigator. Do what needs to be done to keep the ship off the rocks.
Some disturbing visualizations are best left in written form. I did not need to see this this morning.
no president will ever make as many false claims about economic growth as george w bush. that man was hammering the creed right up to the lehman moment. and the stock market seemed to be supporting his claim. it had nearly doubled from the start of the iraq war. my own personal feeling is that the political cycle and the stock market cycle are aligned. elections make wall street nervous. if its pretty obvious that no continuity will be lost (hillary) then maybe the transition will be smooth. otherwise it could be bombs away, rand paul is a real mystery. the market sold off the day W was inaugurated despite the cliche about wall street preferring a republican. the real concern is will the new guy or gal keep the global economy, carry trades, QE for european banks, we're all pretty tightly wound up, if our president gets a nativist bend of mind, things could go sour.
I though banzai always photoshoped stuff to be funny this looks like the real deal here. some one find a picture that feel out of reggies bag one day?
When you have to shoot, shoot! Don't talk!
Tuco
Best advice ever. Bad timing though.
Dear William,
When I was little I loved Westerns. The Virginian, The Rifleman, Big Valley, Bonanza, Gunsmoke. I would get out my toy horses and stagecoach and play in front of the TV while I watched transfixed by this rugged, raw time and was amazed at those who survived and flourished in it. It is sad for me to see that slack wrist wimp sully my memories. But maybe my childhood fantasies were just that. There are no heroes anymore and maybe there never were.
Miffed
Dear Miffed,
this en's for you:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rT0MOG9ZGWk
my mother used to play all the Willie, Waylon & Merle albums in my early youth...but that was long before pharmacopia subsumed her being. my mother's like a dead soul shuffling across her marble-tiled palace of pills.
cowboy that i am, i'm hi-jacking this thread. no, hussain ain't a cowboy.
and so i'm going to address another form of 'recovery' that's hurt more people i love than anything else in this world.
modern amorica is sick in so many ways -- one never knows where to begin nor end with it all.
and here's a private dedication to "lefty" from "pancho" (stay strong, amigo...sunshine on the other side, my brother).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8SjwO17gsqU
all the federalses/
they could have had us anyday/
they only let us hang around/
outta kindness, i suppose...,
janus
http://johnpilger.com/videos/the-war-you-dont-see
The War You Don't See
j.p.
.
as steve hughes pointed out, genocide of the
natives on the north american continent translated
into the "american" culture of our
generation as the child's game known as
"cowboys and indians".
.
a child's game based on a genocide, that takes the cake;
the cake of complete moral depravity dressed up
in slave labor garments, beautiful, the law of the land
written by lobbyists for monetary stability requiring
monetary authority to dominate everything; property,
education, science, art, all relations, you name it. love it
or leave it, all the flags wave in the winds and
strong breezes.
.
and then the debt burden out of thin air; it is some
kind of satanic miracle that "it" has any legs to
pretend to stand on, call it money if you like.
.
hollywood western movies, what was the purpose of
those productions besides entertainment and revenue
generation? war movies, spy movies etc ...?
we all have our own opinions and insights amounting
to exactly what? well, we must see or die blind.
the western is a unique american art form, like jazz. it was the genre John Ford used to define the political middle of the road (My Daughter Clementine) which is a lot further right than it is today. Clint Eastwood has been working for the same recognition. High Plains Drifter is probably top ten, which is saying quite a bit. in that movie the hero rapes a woman but its all in the context of his other than real persona as an avenging angel. if the american middle of the road still exists Eastwood has probably identified it. this picture is obamas middle of the road, with snark added. he is a city slicker by definition.
When I was a child, right up to my teens, Westerns were one of my favourite genres in the films (The other, sci-fi). I am told that it was my grandfather's too so there's a surprising albeit tenuous link to genetics. I am a little embarrased to admit that I used to watch Sergio Leoni films with my cowboy boots on (adorned with spurs) and relished the "justice", or often than not, "injustice" meted out on the silver screen and on VHS.
Sometimes there's a double moral complexity to the storyline that intrigued me: The anti-hero, cast as the frightening outlaw or someone barely within the law as an opportunistic bounty hunter reviled by the establishment who, in the end, turns out to be the ethical hero after all, free from the hypocrisy, greed, and megalomania that gripped the wealthy and powerful. It's a lesson akin to, "Never judge a book by its cover", that I have taken to heart all my life.
Of course there are no heroes and perhaps there never were. I'm the first to admit that individuals are complex, often "Good" and "Bad" - the Ying and Yang - depending on the timeline and situation in which they exist. As a case in point, I don't take compliments well, because I well remember when I wasn't so clever or decent at some point in my life. We're all products of our generation and the accumulation of experiences.
One thing I have learned, as I am sure many here have, is that what matters in our lives is the present. How we conduct ourselves in the here and now. How compassionate, loving, fair, just, patient and truthful we are to those we meet on this short journey of life today is what matters the most. Because the present will eventually form a part of the collection of experiences that we recognise as the Self in the years to come, the memories we cherish to lessen the burdens of regret.
PS: Not that it wasn't funny or poignant, but midnight cowboy Obama almost made me lose my dinner. :)
I grew up watching cowboy movies and reading cowboy books. However, after watching this movie, my cowboy movie aesthetic shifted dramatically and luckily Clint Eastwood was Johnny on the Spot for this genre.
This film is awesome on so many different levels.
Thanks, Bill. Hadn't seen that one.
y.w.
BTW, the music is by Bruce Langhorne, a folk guitarist who collaborated with Dylan on many occasions.
Peter Fonda really was looking in other directions back then.
i came of age in the generation which was tired of john wayne. the eastwood character, a guy wearing a blanket and riding a mule seemed to strike a chord with us. we all bought serapes and twisted cigars and went to the drive in movie. when the man with no name didnt like what he saw he played both sides against the middle. no selfrighteous or ideological hubris, just collect the bounty and move on.
my personal favorite western is Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. i think that film would be a little out of favor politically now, a bit too anti-big government. i cant imagine obama watching it. he is a man without any sentiments at all. his feelings are tied to one cause or another.
Those Westerns were theater for you to emote to. Good doesn't triumph over evil because of noble intentions. Myths and theater control you by presenting idealism as a successful methodology. Engaging in fist fights with evil are for delusional fools. It's not survival of the fittest; it's survival of the adaptable, clever and realist.
Hero is Greek word meaning paid champion. The unrewarded hero is delusion.
I took my little sister to be on the Merry Mailman TV show and while there I got to see Buster Crabbe on an adjoining set. They had a platform box for him to stand on while talking to a guest. When the broadcast was over, he put on a pair of coke bottle glasses. It was all theater.
oh come on, was it coleridge who called it the willing suspension of disbelief? its actually the willing suspension of belief. we all know how films are made, we pretend that we are watching a seamless narrative and not a lot of disjointed pieces and play actors and cardboard sets. you cant really be disappointed that they let you know how its done. they call that transparency. so you can see whats in the sausage.
That was awesome.
Reggie likes em white.
Looks like John Kerry's chin!
FFS, I am trying to eat.
Choom Gang: Where are they now?
Is that a holster or a dildo he's got strapped on?
You know how they give you warnings about police shootings and the results from gruesome accidents on the news? Graphic images not suitable for children blah, blah, blah?
They should do the same thing with any image of Obomit. I want to be warned because I don't want to see the mistake that America made TWICE, over and over again.
Is this picture right after the tent scene in brokeback.
I get Broke Back feeling...
Broke Barack Mountain
I feel the sudden urge to take a shower....
I felt the sudden urge to take a pain pill that I've resisted for the last six weeks.
… with HIM ??!!
No...Hell, NO!
ROTFLMAO !!!!!
Literally did a spit take in media dining at the U.S Open. Thanks, I needed the laugh !
I did the same when I saw Tiger's first round score.
Spookie how the gloss started coming off him and drone-in-chief around the same time. Maybe the media finally realised neither of these two twats walk on water.
Have a great tourni Jumbo (you lucky bastard).
When I look at that, it kind of gives me a queer feeling.
Art, you are showing your age. You can't be just queer anymore. You have to pick. You have to be trans-queer,or transexual, or trans-racial (that fits this picture) or ... transylvania (which covers you for just about eveything).
"Shake, Baby, shake..." :>D
Yeah, I am gettin' a bit old. As evidence, my grandkids and I don't particularly see eye to eye on this kind of stuff. Whenever I crack jokes about queers they express extreme disapproval while scowling at me with disdain.
Oh, well... they'll just have to deal with it.