In the Street Life Is Either Fine and Dandy Or Pretty Fuckin' Hard
"No, I'm not fucking abnormal," I screamed running from the orifices of my friend the psychiatrist--Hah-vard Medical School, too, and I'd just dropped by for a little conversation, a sip or two of his always good Scotch, and this bastard ends up trying to analyze me. "I'm not fucking abnormal. Quit trying to pin that on me." We had drank maybe several too many Scotches when I happened to mention women and how enigmatic they are and different from men and the trouble I've been having distinguishing the animal from the humane part of me--the animal in me, like the wolf I am, an Alpha Wolf, and that alpha animal in me is always a slave to an Alpha Female Wolf...subservient...shy...with the "trained" (from Mark Twain) human side of me trying to tame my libido--trained in the past to be cavalier when it comes to women as ladies. Trained to be mature when it comes to loving women--or should I say mating with them? Then talk turned to why marriage is so fucking sacred. Why a man can't lust after another man's wife? Who invented morals? Who wrote the book on why we aren't animals and shouldn't act like animals--wild animals--not trained animals? But the animal side of me is trained. I'm a circus sideshow: "Come see the Wolf Man, ladies, gents, and cover the eyes of the kiddies unless you want them to develop the disease of Lycanthropy, the disease of the Wolf Man's evil intent. Look within his eyes, if you dare, and see the animal lust boiling in him as he licks his chops over the ample deliciousness of your charming wife...or, even worse, perhaps your own innocent daughter."
Suddenly my psychiatrist friend was making me as paranoid as the man who played the Wolf Man in the old black & white movie, Lon Chaney, as Lawrence Talbott, and Maria Ouspenskaya creeping through the full-moon-lit jungles of your instinctual mind warning you of your coming hirsute wickedness!
And my psychiatrist friend, and he's read Jung, I know he has, says, "Wolfie, you are having trouble dealing with this split personality you're watering with such concern to the point its grown around your brain like a vise-like vine and is perhaps driving you a bit, how can I put it simply, like 'cuckoo,' like you are flying over the cuckoo's nest."
I barged out of there shouting about my sanity. I'm like Henry Miller, I'm too sane to be insane. Perhaps insanity is salvation in my case. I've always said my older generation pioneer matriarchs when they knew they were going to die went totally "out of their minds" so when they did finally die, they died in a fantasy world, a chaotic nightmare of a world to some of them but a light rather limerick-bound fairyland to those like my poet-minded poet grandmother who went comically out of her mind right before she died.
Yes, I've been hiding out. Yes, I am into a musical in 4 acts based on one tune of Lester Young's--and that's all I'm sayin' about it. Never talk about your work in progress, Hemingway warned, or you won't have anything left to write about or create from. What I'm into now is creative stuff. A panoramic staged picture running 'round my mind's theater.
Plus, I've had to confront some out-of-bounds urges within me--especially night before last when love swept itself into my life for 3 or so hours and I had to jig between my mature composure and the horny little kid who is also madly active within my hodge-podge of personalities--none of them split, all of them a whole, just like Allah is All, so are my personalities--all for one and one for all--hey, I like that as a motto....
All for One; and One for All.
I can run for president on that slogan--YES I CAN!
And let me step further outside my psychiatrist friend's office and say, "I'm already sick of President Obama." I just read where our seniors depending on Social Security to survive are not getting a cost of living increase this year even though Social Security a few years back guaranteed seniors on Social Security a 4.5% cost of living increase for years to come. What a shame! The reason? Obama's Administration is jacking with Social Security. Hell, his old Clintonista advisor Larry "Let's Dump Our Toxic Waste in Africa" Summers, yep, he's gettin' rich of We the People's earnings, said only a few months ago that they were still planning on privatizing Social Security. How cruel are these two-faced bastards? The White Males who rule us like they're royalty! Like they're divine royalty.
I mean this admiration of Ted Kennedy that's ballyhooing all over all our media. Obama bullshitting us by saying Ted Kennedy was the greatest Senator EVER! Get the hell out of here! [Now President Obama says he's going to do Uncle Teddy's eulogy at his big "Off to American Glory and Sainthood" funeral.] [Here's a family, the Kennedys, that President Obama at one time had he have tried to approach a Kennedy house front door would have been driven by a Black butler around back to the servant's entrance of whatever Kennedy mansion, compound, or wherever he'd a tried to "visit." Old Bootlegger Joe, I guarantee you, would have never let a Black man come anywhere near any of his many front doors.]
And Uncle Ted is going to be buried by his fucking up brothers in Arlington Memorial Cemetery [JFK killed by a combination CIA/Mafia effort (JFK failed at the Bay of Pigs invasion) and Bobby killed by maybe the same bunch--those who didn't want him to be president since he was Attorney General and had been actively going after the Mafia with his Justice Department--check it out: the REAL Bobby Kennedy story]!
A fucking saint: Uncle Teddy, Daddy Joe the Bootlegger's least-favorite son--Teddy was dumber than Joe, Jr, JFK, and Bobby--like his father, Teddy wasn't the brightest pup in the litter.
Here's a man who when he ran for President was booed and castigated by his own Party! Here's a man who was driving while very drunk, and made a bad turn onto a Chappaquiddick bridge, drove his car off into the ocean waters there, miraculously escaped from the car, then claiming he lost his memory, he wobbled up as if dazed to one of his fabby clubs there on Martha's Vineyard...still drunk, after partying hearty with his office staff and security goons--what a sordid fucking life. And because he's a Kennedy and a Massachusetts Senator, he's forgiven for killing this innocent girl who was so excited at being at one of Uncle Teddy's wild parties and maybe perhaps getting to shack with old Teddy--can you imagine her bragging around the office back in the District of Corruption? "Jeannie, listen, I gotta tell somebody. I slept with Uncle Teddy Kennedy this weekend on Martha's Vineyard." "Oh girl, I gotta hear all about it. How was he? A Kennedy! You go girl." Instead of getting laid by Uncle Teddy, she got killed by him. She was dead and he got to live on another whole bunch of years in privilege and splendor, earning his wealth off the backs of the US workingclass. Go back and read the story of that 1969 incident in our Greatest-Ever Senator's life (the Vietnam War was still going on, too). Here's a man who married a woman named Joan Bennett. Being married to Uncle Teddy drove Joan to the bottle; drove her so far into the bottle that she got to going out at night to bars and picking up dudes and eventually who got busted from driving while drunk (now ain't that coincidental) and was facing jail time. What does Uncle Teddy do? He divorces Joan. It's OK with the Boston Catholic Diocese, old Bootlegger Joe paid enough tribute to that Diocese they weren't about to condemn his least-worthy son, Teddy, to a secular grave just because he broke a Roman Catholic law, he got divorced. Also, whatever happened to Teddy and Joan's one-legged son? Strange how there's no mention of any of this shit in all the glorious Teddy the Greatest Senator Who Ever Lived Tributes--though there didn't seem to be that big a line passing old Teddy's flag-draped coffin at the JFK Presidential Library, which We the People own.
After Uncle Teddy shucked and jived his way out of the killing of Mary Jo Kopeckne, the son of a bitch had the nerve to run for reelection to his Senate seat and winning it back! The insane people of Massachusetts had forgiven this native son and Kennedy of murder. The Sacred Kennedys. The family of a potato-eatin' Shanty Irish father who got wealthy in Boston Irish Society, enough that his weak-eyed sonny boy, Joseph, bought his way into Boston Latin and then Hah-vard (where he didn't make very good grades). After Hah-vard, this potato-famine Shanty Irishman's son went on to do some stock brokering and through his father's political connections get involved in some real estate schemes; legit schemes that got him ahead enough he got up next to John F. Fitzgerald the mayor of Boston enough to marry his sequestered virgin daughter and begin immediately bopping babies out of her virginal womb like a good potato-famine Irish Catholic--and soon Joe Kennedy was making tons of money--especially off his bootlegging during Prohibition, though, like all the Kennedy bad stuff, it's swept under that golden carpet that protect divine royalty like the Kennedys assume they are.
Daddy Joe went on to work for Bethlehem Steel--then went on to buy the Chicago Merchandise Mart, at one time the largest building in the world--yep, old Bootlegger Joe was tight with Chicago politicians and BOOTLEGGERS! Why, during this time, Bootlegger Joe became a legitimate liquor peddler:
Allegedly these [financial investments] included bootlegging, the illegal importation of alcohol into the United States during Prohibition, though these allegations have never been proven.[not in citation given] (It has been substantiated that toward the end of Prohibition, Kennedy and James Roosevelt traveled to Scotland to buy distribution rights for Scotch whisky. In addition, Kennedy had purchased spirits-importation rights from Schenley, a firm in Canada.)
After becoming a big buddy of President Frankie Delano Roosevelt (an aristocrat), through his connections with Bethlehem Steel and FDR's being head of the Navy Department (they contract ships to be built), FDR made Joe Kennedy head of the SEC! Wow, look how connected even the Kennedys are to Wall Street.
I tried to flee this chaotic reality that is boiling around me. I tried to get away by reading. I tried to get away by writing poetry. I tried to get away by ignoring it all. Like President Obama wants to keep on keeping on with the very criminal doings of the little spoiled rich brat prick, G.W. Bush, who's brought to us by another divinely royal American family, the God-damn Bushes--all of 'em crooked as snakes at night all the way back to old Sam Bush and his iron foundry in Ohio. We the People's hard work made these worthless chiselers fabulously wealthy.
Uncle Teddy is reposing for two decaying days in JFK's Presidential Library in Boston. Guess who paid for that library? Do you know how many presidential libraries around the country We the People own? Did you know We the People own 85% of the whole State of Nevada? Do you know how many buildings in the USA WE the People own? Do you know how many cars and trucks and ships and airplanes We the People own? How wide a swath of wilderness lands We the People own? How the hell are we in debt? Why not sell the Communist Chinese Nevada? I wouldn't miss Nevada. Vegas? Reno? Well, maybe Lake Tahoe, but, Carson City, Henderson, Hoover Dam, hell, sell 'em to the Commie Chinese.
I liked where my fellow Growler said they should push old Teddy off that bridge in Chappaquiddick--burying him in that evil water. Instead, he'll get the glory burial with his divine brothers amidst all those poor slobs who gave their lives for WARS started by nearly every fucking president we've ever had--WAR. Boy, do our presidents love WAR.
And oh boy how much is President Obama enjoying being Commander in Chief! WAHOOO. Just taking over where G.W. Bush left off. I read where over 500 American troops have now been killed in Afghanistan.
And today this son of a bitch Obama has brought John Brennan back into our government. JOHN BRENNAN. Do you know who this little scoundrel is? And Obama has giving him a post.... I can't believe this son of a bitch! Obama may be insane, but I'm not, dammit.
Freud could tell me--the many personalities of Barack Obama--the half white man.
You see, folks, the trouble is, we are all living within a Plantation Economy. The White Male still rules the fields and the Big House and Miss Ann is still the Queen on the real Throne. A Plantation Economy needs CHEAP LABOR to make its Massuhs filthy rich and able to send their sons to Hah-vard--or if they're really whacko rightwing, then send their sons to Yale where they only have to make Ds to pass Yale Business (Clown) School and go on from Skull and Bones and maybe sucking some S&B member's dicks to become President of the USA. Or, you can follow the Kennedy boyz and go to Hah-vard Law (even Blacks eventually got to go to Hah-vard).
Anarchy, please! Yet, an anarchist in this country is the same as a Muslim or an Atheist or a Socialist--the scumbags of the earth--the evil versus the GOOD--and you get GOD from GOOD but you get LIVE from EVIL. Give me LIFE, fuck Liberty, and I'll handle the DEATH end of the bargain.
I'm sick of President Obama and his now-canned-sounding speeches. He's TRAINED. He was trained by Hah-vard Law School how to declaim, how to exhort, how to deliver a closing. Obama is TRAINED. "Yes We Can" is beginning to look like "NO WE AIN'T."
I am not insane! So why am I said to be so WRONG...it seems.
for The Daily Growler
A GROWLER ERRATO: Our copyeditor--he's a horse remember--missed a biggy. It seems the bank president our President was playing golf with on Martha's Vineyard wasn't from USB, but UBS--HOLY JESUS, the Swiss Bank who hid all those hidden corporate bank accounts--remember--and they were also receivers of bail out money from Brother Obama.
Here's Amy Goodman (from rabble.ca) writing about it:
It looked like it was business as usual for President Barack Obama on the first day of his Martha's Vineyard vacation, as he spent five hours golfing with Robert Wolf, president of UBS Investment Bank and chairman and CEO of UBS Group Americas. Wolf, an early financial backer of Obama's presidential campaign, raised $250,000 for him back in 2006, and in February was appointed by the president to the White House's Economic Recovery Advisory Board. Economic recovery for whom?
Interestingly, Wolf's appointment came in the same month that UBS agreed to pay the U.S. $780 million to settle civil and criminal charges related to helping people in the U.S. avoid taxes. Not to worry. UBS, an ailing bank with a pre-existing condition, had great insurance coverage. It was actually receiving $2.5 billion in a backdoor bailout from bailed-out insurance giant AIG. Sen. Olympia Snowe, R-Maine, said, "It looks like we're simply laundering this money through AIG." UBS, this bank that shelters wealthy tax dodgers, was actually being bailed out by hardworking U.S. taxpayers.
So there ya go, it wasn't the CEO of USBancorp, a man named Wilson, it was Robert Wolf--isn't that ironic--another Wolf Man. How crazy is President Obama?
Here's Wikipedia on John Brennan:
John O. Brennan is the Assistant to the President for Homeland Security and Counterterrorism under United States President Barack Obama. An "Assistant to the President" is the highest rank that any White House staffer can hold. He was interim director of the National Counterterrorism Center immediately after its creation in 2004 through 2005, and since 2005 has served as CEO of The Analysis Corporation. He advised Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama on foreign policy and intelligence issues. Since 2007, Brennan has served as Chairman of the Intelligence and National Security Alliance. It was assumed early on by some that Brennan would be appointed next Director of the Central Intelligence Agency by Obama. Brennan withdrew his name from consideration in November 2008, however, over concerns that his nomination would be a distraction, due to his previous associations with controversial harsh CIA interrogation techniques. Brennan's responsibilities as Deputy National Security Advisor include overseeing plans to protect the country from terrorism and respond to natural disasters.