LAND AHOY!

LAND! LAND! LAND!
My grandmother, a single-mother business woman who survived the Great Depression with her businesses and raised three children at the same time, once gathered her grandkids around her. It was Christmas and I remember it as though it happened just a moment ago and I've never forgotten her advice, "elderly wisdom," she called it. She said, "When you all get to be my age...wait a minute...let me rephrase that...if you want to live to be as old as I am...and take a look around you...it's not bad, Granny's Pad, right? You eat well when you're over here, right? And believe me, my two daughters and my son learned the hard core part of what I'm going to say, though I can't say they utilized it as effectively as I wanted, but your wants are seldom as you want them, which is something you can take to the bank and live off of for a good while." She lit up one of her image IDs, a cheroot (long thin) cigar, took several blue-smoky slugs off the red-tipped firestick and proceeded with her elderly wisdom. Firesticks is what her son, my uncle, who chain smoked cigars and Pall Mall (he pronounced it "Pell Mell"), called the cheroots his mother smoked. He claimed he was part Fox Indian and that our Fox relatives who he traced back to a suburb of Chicago called cigarettes and cigars firesticks. "Coffin nails." That's what my father called them. He had married one of the wise woman's daughters, so his remarks around this ruling elder were always "kind a'silly." My mother criticized him sometimes as being her family's buffoon but he'd counter her with, "That's fine with me. Jesters were brave men. They were forced by threats of death to keep the serious laughing, which they did through actually mocking the ones laughing...in other words, jesters had them laughing at themselves." The old lady, as he called his wife's mother, had backed him in a interior decoration business but it had failed. And that was it for him in her eyes though she constantly backed her son in failed enterprises. After that my dad seriously did become a jester to her. She criticized my dad's designs as being too "primitive." My dad actually was pretty hip. He loved Matisse, pretty forward for those days. As a result, his designs were Fauvistic, a lot of gaudy vines sort of dancing around walls, some across ceilings, or dancing silhouettes like Matisse's paper cutouts. "I don't want to go back to the jungle, and obviously neither do your potential customers," my grandmother once commented on one of his living room designs that nobody liked except me later the first time I ever saw a folder of his original designs. I loved my dad's Matisse-stolen designs.

"The most important thing in the world is what you're standing on," my grandmother began her lecture that Christmas. "It's referred to as terra firma in the ancient texts. It was born with life in the primal seas, terra firma rising out of boiling waters, the geothermal waters, the fresh waters that still give us life. When you go outside into the world, look down before you take a step. Don't look up! Those who keep looking up live in the stars! Neither should you stare into the horizon either! Nor turn around and look behind you. All the ancient texts tell you to never turn around and in reflection waste your time regretting or coveting the past. No, you keep your eyes on the prize, the LAND! The Good Earth, Miss Pearl Buck called it in her novel." [My grandmother's favorite authors were Lord Byron, Grace Livingston Hill, and Miss Pearl Buck--at one time, Grace Livingston Hill was the bestselling US author of all time--only the Holy Christian Bible outsold Grace every year there for awhile.] With her mention of Pearl Buck, she rose up and flailed her cane at the air and shouted "LAND! LAND! LAND! Keep your eye on the LAND!" Sitting back down, she sighed and went on. "Keep your eyes down on the ground. That's where the worth is! Like, this is a nice house I've put together here, but more important than this house is the piece of land it's on--biggest plot of land left in the city limits. It's called 'prime real estate,' boys." My cousin Jim, he wanted to be called James, but everybody called him Jim whatever, said, "Granny, should we become like Smilin' Birdie Herbert!" Smilin' Birdie Herbert was a real estate dealer who had once courted Granny. She looked at my cousin fiercely sternly. "Jimmy, are you gonna be a dunce all your life? Birdie is a real estate salesman. Your grandmother is a real estate owner. You want to own the land, not sell it. Selling land is an occupation. Owning land excuses you from occupation."

When my grandmother died, she left very little money. That brings back remembering her always saying, "Paper money's trash. That's what Shakespeare had in his purse, paper money, and he who steals your paper money does indeed steal trash. Steal my money, you've got that hillbilly tabla rosa police chief, Rex Rountree, to deal with; try to steal my land on the other hand and you've got Leo and Ziggy Hirsh [her lawyers] to deal with." She did leave her two remaining heirs, my mother and her sister, large parcels of surrounding land including the largest plot of land left in the city limits of our hometown. My aunt and her husband kept their land; my mother and dad sold their share and hit the road like bums. My dad announced, "This money makes us free!", after the last of my mother's land was sold off. "Dad," I said, "Granny would say you made a dunce-like mistake selling that land." "Yeah, and where's your grandmother right now! In her last plot of land. Landlocked, you might say," he replied.

Have you guessed yet what happened to my mother and father compared to what happened to my mother's sister and her husband? My dad and mom ended up broke on the West Coast. In defeat, they moved back to our hometown and bought a lot from my aunt and with my uncle's help and paying half the bill, my dad built a small frame house on that land. A nice house. A cute house. A well-kept house. And that's where they lived when they died 20 years later, a little old couple being supported by memories of great adventures and a sister who did become her sister's keeper. My cousin Jim? Yeah, he's a multimillionaire. Made his fortune off timber rights and mineral rights and leasing of his acres and acres of inherited land.

I watch with great comedy relief the political shenanigans going on currently in the New York State Senate, a joke of a political body in the first place, the second worst state government set up in the country, second only to California in terms of corruption and wasting taxpayers money and being tons of billions of dollars in the hole. The local-yokel press is calling the ignoramus actions of the New York State Senate this week a Repugnican coup. Two Dumbocrats turncoated on their fellow Dumbos and joined the Repugnican side of future controversial bills and measures and laws (consider the huge number of bills and measures and laws these 2nd-story operators throw at us every time they meet--budget cuts, for instance, are bills, measures, and finally laws), thereby giving the Repugnicans majority rule in that Senate of lamebrain, greedy, selfish politicians--a Senate with the most hands out ready to accept bribes (oh, I'm sorry, contributions they judiciously call those bribes) next to Cally-forn-y-ah. New York State being run by a do-nothing governor who is totally ineffective as governor--his own party is plotting behind his back to dump him come election time--he's the politician son of a politician father--this poor man has never had to work a day in his fabby insider, uptown Power Elite life. And Cally-forn-y-ah has Arnold Schwarzenegger for its governor. Arnie is so self-centered and Fascist in his own lifestyle (he believes the roles he plays in the Grade B movies he's so famous for) and he's so used to having bales of money to waste (Hollywood money is easily wasted money--just like the Taxpayers money is easily wasted money) and money-wasting Arnie (being governor is a hobby with him don't you see) is now stymied behind the eight-ball of his own dumbells-and-steroids "pumped up" backwards thinking of bad state money management. Arnie made it into the Power Elite--he was bored with making movies, another of his hobbies--"Ja, Mah-ree-ah, I need a hobby!" "Why don't you run for political office--that's what my worthless family did when it got bored." "Poly-ticks! That's a goot idea--wanna see my giant schlong as a reward?"--and his marrying a Kennedy girl was a free pass into the Power Elite. How can there be any hope for peace and justice from wasteful and inconsiderate politicians lording over us as if once they are elected they feel that means they were elected to do what they think is best for us all and not what we think is best for us--though most of the voting constituents are pretty damn dumb--look at the comic-book characters they keep foisting on us.

Here's the problem, New York State is broke. Why? Because it has given away all its land and capital assets to real estate developers--from the tip top of the state all the way down to state bankroller, New York City. New York State is a Commonwealth, but you'd never know it from the way the state is run by political hacks and sons of political hacks who are used to a conspicuously wasteful lifestyle that can only be supported by them selling off or billing, measuring, or lawfully giving away New York State's common wealth.

And the two turncoat Dumbocrats who sleazily slid across the aisle in the New York State Senate to join the sleazebag Repugnican state senators are a couple of really notorious characters. One's a dumbass, scandalous, constantly investigated for misusing campaign funds and taking corporate junkets Bronx state senator named Espada. The other one's an ex-cop Queens state senator named Montserrat, who though progressive in his views is crooked as a snake at night when it comes to his political favors and politician lifestyle--first, he doesn't even live in the district that elected him--plus, he's currently under a serious indictment for stabbing his "girlfriend." These are worthless human beings. Parasites. Just think of the power even a low-life politician like these birds has over you and me. Look at how much power a low-level elected New York City City Councilmember has! I mean, one day you see them around the neighborhood taking down the shingle from their failed legal practice but then rescued from disappearance by their local political connections (maybe through their family's fame or wealth or maybe even due to Mafia in-laws), so the next thing you know these failed-more-than-won birds are running for a political office--campaigns say against a 88-year-old incumbent state senator who is opposed to doing away with rent controls on New York City apartments (affordable housing) and you win big basketfuls of campaign cash from the real estate industry who come to you with those big teeth-baring smiles on their faces and their glad hands out and then these suits and ties offer these low-level politicians millions as campaign contributions and then send them over a couple of jive experts to do their campaigning for them and the next thing you know they're elected and then the next thing you know, they're sashshaying in a limo headed up to Albany, their pockets filled with a couple of million bucks leftover from their campaign chests. The head of the Real Estate Dealers Association has told them they can legally pocket for their own expenses. That's who we poor slugs who are now the goats of New York State must endure as these dumbasses muck around with their power tripping while the state economy goes belly up.

New York City is a Dumbocrat-registered city--6 to 1 Dumbocrats in New York City. Yet, New York City is infatuated with Repugnican mayors and a Fascist police force. The current Repugnican mayor (well, I forgot, when he recently unsuccessfully wasted 20 million bucks running for president, he called himself an Independent) of New York City, the 5th richest man in the USA, has sold off New York City to his real estate developer buddies--friends he's made through his own real estate ventures and through his own connections to Wall Street and the financial institutions whose venture capitalism has pushed us over a brink of disaster.

I'm not as hard on Obama as most Growlers. One good thing with Obama is perhaps he's bright enough to see foolishness when he sees it played out before him; like his recent changing his mind once again on healthcare--not going far enough back--like to a National Healthcare system based on our successful Medicare system--but at least going back to a pay-as-you-go plan--a bad plan, but not as bad as HMOs continuing making huge profits off people's illnesses and disease and battles with death. HMOs that now we find out invested heavily in tobacco stocks. Hey, lung and esophagus cancers are big profit-making diseases for these greedy dudes--whose on healthcare is impeccable--why? Because they are privileged venture capitalist pigs who have doctors and nurses on their staff--who have their own chefs. HMOs do not put their enormous profits into healing illnesses and disease! Oh no, that's anti-free trade! Their profits go into venture capitalist adventures. The population must remain sick and diseased and depressed and afraid. Keeping the profits rolling in, that's the bottom line. Featherbedding the nest eggs of so sleazy a man as Tom DeLay's father is enough for me to shut all HMOs down--bust 'em up and give healthcare back to care givers and doctors and nurses who CARE about their patients and not their paychecks!

When it comes to Economics, though, Obama is being advised by some of the most unreliable two-faced sons of bitches in our tumultuous history. Timothy Geithner, for instance. His major in college was Civil Service. He's a professional civil servant! A Dartmouth-trained spoiled little rich brat who has never had to work a day in his life. Look at the fine suits this bastard wears when he goes before asskissing Congress telling them how, "Well, the economy is on an upward swing...er-ah, it looks like, though I don't mean to paint too optimistic a picture, we are making some gains. We still have a long way to go...er-ah, but, er-ah, we're making progress...er-ah, slowly, but Rome wasn't built in a day." ["Hey, Timmy, but it was destroyed in a day!"] Such bullshit. Civil servant bullshit. Know-nothings in charge of an intricate math problem that is our government. A math problem that is beyond correction maybe--at least it is a problem that is now above the heads of most of our bureaucratic numbskulls--mathematicians who believe whatever summation they get, whether right or wrong, it doesn't matter, is the correct answer. Every time they try to redo the summation they come up with different answers, but that doesn't bother them. The solution used to work; therefore keep feeding it numbers and maybe it will correct itself. Wall Street thinking. "Don't worry, the stock market is going through a correction right now." There you go. That's the kind of Power Elite thinking that inevitably has brought down past civilizations--advancements away from Nature--the wrong way to true civilization--but hey, human beings, as Philip Wylie says, started on the wrong foot when they came to the human conclusion that they weren't evolutionarily developed but divinely designed and created by a bigger Human, created in His image--and God must be one big motherfucker silverback gorilla! We are in Chaos at the moment. We need quick thinkers--quick solutions--solutions corrected to the highest possible nth. Obama, on the positive side still, might be that quick thinker--as long as the progressive algebran solutionists can get to him and get his ear. As a Afro-White-American with a Muslim name he's got to be sensitive to a lot of "what's right" and needs to be done for all of us as a community and not a nation of sovereign states! My pessimism comes when you realize the restrictions and hurdles that are being thrown at this guy. I mean first of all Bill Clinton has his nasty and deceitful white hands around his nuts. Through Bill Clinton, Obama's now got George H.W. Pappy Bush's gnarly old arthritic white hands around his nuts, too. Plus, he's got massive obligations to the corporate Power Elite that really financed and managed his campaign. Men he's now had to pay back by giving them insider jobs as his administration and cabinet aids and advisers, all of whom have their greedy little clean white hands around his nuts. Plus, G.W. Junior Bush left this poor bastard with a no-hope, losing/losing situation in all aspects of our government. He left a righteous man, and perhaps Obama is a righteous man, a more than "evil" situation--stance--whatever you want to call it. I think Obama still respects the teachings he heard under the Reverend Wright on the Southside of Chicago--even though he sold the Rev. out for political gain. Remember though, Obama as president becomes his own God, the one, the God of his father, which he believes in anyway--he and Michelle Obama--she worships that divine way this man has with women like her--and I leave that in no matter how Freudian it is. He perhaps can somehow get his nuts freed from the powerful twisting of them by not only his own Party but the beatdown and desperate Repugnican thug party. Isn't it interesting that just when Obama goes to Buchenwald and talks about how that place should put an end to anti-Holocausters, an anti-Holocauster rightwing Whitey White Trash nutjob starts shooting it up at the Holocaust Museum in the District of Corruption, guntoting, and sniper attacks--our Constitution gives us the right to bear arms!

But bullshit makes the world go around. Think of the amount of human manure generated daily around the world. 6 billion going on 10 billion people--all taking a crap at least once a day--even starving African children dying of malnutrition get diarrhea.

As long as we use money as wealth, we're doomed to lose all our natural wealth. New York State is one big real estate offering right now. Manhattan land is being given away to foreign developers. The mayor says its building up the city's tax base. Yet, this city is billions of dollars in debt! These spoiled wealthy rich brats (you bet Mayor Bloomberg owns lots of land and the capital improvements on those lands--profits banked in offshore banks) are putting us all in slavery.

Manhattanites are pretty stupid for the most part. They believe buying condo apartments is the same as owning land! Did you know the land under the Empire State Building is not owned by the same big-shot real estate firm that owns the Empire State Building--I know Trump bought the Empire State Building--he wanted it for his building collection--and he bought it from lunatic Harry Helmsley (maybe Leona was the lunatic head of Helmsley Real Estate then) and then renigged on the deal and the building reverted back to the Helmsley Collection of Manhattan buildings. Harry and Leona last lived high atop the Essex House on Central Park South--Harry had the only Olympic-size swimming pool in a NYC apartment in his penthouse apartment at the Essex House. When you visited Harry in his last failing days--he surely was Alzheimer-bound in those days, he'd take you out on his balcony overlooking Central Park, Fifth Avenue to his right and Central Park West to his left, and he'd start at the bottom of Central Park West and start counting uptownward--"I own that building...that building...that building...." And he'd swing on around 110th Street (the beginning of Harlem) and come down Fifth Avenue..."I own that building, I own that building, that building...." One guy said the night he was with Harry on the balcony Harry counted 250 buildings he owned surrounding Central Park. Did Harry own the land under his buildings? Since New York State is a Commonwealth, the People of New York State constitutionally own that land...oh well...maybe when Rudi Guiliani's Governor of New York he will work all of this out in his brilliant legal mind. How insulting was it to see Rudi sitting with Sarah Palin at a NY Yankees game the other night? George "Dumbass" Steinbrenner gives Rudi $2500-a-game field boxes every year! Nobody asked Sarah Palin what the hell she was doing tripping around New York City on the people of Alaska's tax dollars? These privileged assholes love to mock We the People!

Still we must trudge on.

austinhighchew
for The Daily Growler

Looks like it's time to reread George Orwell's 1984! or else George's Down and Out in Paris and London.