"Los dioses de la noche" Osvaldo Romero
NOTICE: In our "My Blog List" on the right-hand side of this post, we have added the correct-thinking site of Webster Tarpley (think J. Orlin Grabbe)--a man of wise thoughts that so far as we can tell are totally consistent with The Daily Growler contentions--with an especially in-depth look at the life and crooked and dumb goose times of one of our favorite characters, G.W.H. "Pappy" Bush--Tarpley's Unofficial Biography of George Bush. It shows up old Pappy for who he really is--a spoiled brat son of crooks from way back--as Tarpley says, he was born in a bank.
Check it out: The Pappy Bush Story
The White Man's Paradise
The rich White man, of course. The poor White man is in the same boat with...well, hell, Mel, let's get serious...it's the same boat, yes, but like boats since time began, there are two sections to it--those decks above the water line and those decks below the water line.
The true rich ride above the water lines.
The rich White men live on the tops of the highest hills. The capitalist ventures that make these White men rich are down in the valleys, along the riverbanks or the coastline safe harbors--OR down deep under the mountains...OR under the largest cities (in the sewers, the subways, etc.). The hills in Manhattan are now topped by the highest man-made structures possible--extensions of foundations--where the total support strength of a man-made structure always is--why the pyramids are pointed--strength of man and nature being in its roots--its foundation--its mooring to the spaceship earth. Man, no matter his color (color is a cultural thing), as a descendant of tree-dwelling primates, feels safest high up--at the top; in the heights; in the castle-forts atop the highest points in the land; like back in medieval Italy when the height of the tower on your property was your symbol of wealth and power.
The higher up homo sapiens can get above the vicious jungle (the street) floor (the ground) where it's dog eat dog the safer they feel--and trust me, EVIL, "live" spelled backwards, does lurk underneath us--Evil lurks in all that we tree-dwelling monkeys can't see--even though our monkey eyes have almost swollen shut the more of us who were eventually forced down to the jungle floor due to our size. You see, evolution's cruel side is that it is being forced to expand (to be expansionist in its progress--and, please, this is macro-Sociology I'm chewing on here--or cosmic common sense through this reasoning factor we human monkeys are so proud of) by its connection to the expanding universe.
Deep shit, right? Too deep for even a superprimate like "reasoning" human beings. We are forced by this evolutionary process to seek a way off this space ship that one day will crash just as all the planets behind us have crashed and burnt thus forcing the life that humans have evolved from to be blown outwardly (expandingly)--as space-blown seed that landed in earth's primal oozing seas and gave birth to what we human monkeys now call life.
But do you see my point (direction)? My compass has worked pretty damn well for decades now. Why? Because I have expanded my knowledge as is necessary--for instance, expanded my brain's RAM and ROM capacities to where I can clearly see and clearly understand that my brain is comparable to a computer--that D.H. Lawrence of all people was correct in saying our emotions originate in our instinctual foundation, our solar plexus--the area of your gut where your diaphragm is located. Everything (in a physical sense) extends from that area up to your brain's vast space, the brain representing a map of the universe embedded in us back in a past cosmic history (how's this for mystical writing? I'm the Nostradamus of my time! Bold statement, you say. It's the wolf in me, I answer with a growl).
Think about it. Come let us reason together. I've always loved that statement. Lyndon Baines Johnson's scriptwriters came up with that slogan back at the height of the Great American Dream State those same scriptwriters called The Great Society. The highest culturally this country ever got--in my opinion; I was there; I was a progressive, a true libertarian lefty, a natural-born skeptic, i.e., cynic. A natural-born mystic, in the Baudelaire sense. And I always admired old Baudelaire. Why? Because I've always admired Edgar Alan Poe (at one time I claimed direct kin to him beings I have Poes in my Old Virginny-rooted forebears, though I later learned from my honest Poe-blooded grandmother that little Edgar was not a true Poe--that he was, due to the extreme kindness of the Poes to genius--taken in as a son by our Virginny Poes, so therefore...but, therefore to the dogs, I still respect E.A. as a relative--I mean, I so enjoy his mystery, his misery, his struggling as a writer in New York City, same as me--for the same reason I feel kin to Stephen Foster when it comes to songwriting and struggling as an artist in New York City--plus living close to the gutter same as those guys. And you think a POOR son of a bitch in New York City isn't living close to the gutter...or how about a POOR son of a bitch living in Midtown Manhattan in the dead middle of the most expensive real estate certainly in the USA and certainly in more than 99% of the world. You talk about feeling POOR, too, when every person you pass on the sidewalk you're pretty sure is wealthier than you--like that Chinese guy getting in that brand new Cadillac SUV. And all of this tirade started with a reference to Lyndon Baines (I call him el cojones grande) and his "Come let us reason together" slogan at the height of the Great Society, the highest this nation has come to a democracy yet--much to the chagrin of the Republican Racist Conservative John Birch Barry Goldwater Asshole White motherfuckers who set out to get revenge when Lyndon Johnson creamed old "In Your Heart You Know He's Right" Barry--forced him to put on his American Injun costume and do a war dance out in his secret basement room in Phoenix where he mockingly showed his respect for the Red Man, which to some White folks is a brand of chewing tobacco from our White tobacco plantation owners who at least gave credit back in those days to the Native American for letting them steal the idea of smoking tobacco as a addictive trip from them--Native Americans have always smoked and doped for the spiritual effect--tobacco being a gift from the earth that when used humanely is good for healing wounds--you chew it up into a paste and apply it say to an arrow wound, for instance. So, yes, soon the utilitarian use of tobacco becomes a pleasurable one--the nicotine in it that heals the wound also being an addiction on the soul due to its soothing powers. When we are high is when we see our spirits!
[For a good mystery, check out how Lyndon "Big Balls" Johnson died--check out that last helicopter ride that poor old dude took. Note, too, that Lady Byrd, Lyndon's loving wife, got to live the perfect life until she was 90 years old. And she never said one damn word about how her husband died--living the privileged life of a country squire's widow, tending to her garden, and her Lady Byrd Foundation of hidden wealth--and trust me, Lyndon and Lady Byrd before they got into politics--I mean Lyndon was a schoolteacher--yet, at Lyndon's death, he and Byrd were worth multimillions of dollars plus owning radio stations and real estate in D.C. and Texas--and Lyndon's brother Sam was well taken care of--he was once governor of Guam or one of those South Pacific territories we still claim as ours (Guam, Truk, American Samoa)--and I knew Lady Byrd's brother Tony in Santa Fe--thanks to his connection with Mexico, he ran a very successful trading company selling Mexican products and art and crafts. I give you as a good place to start in understanding Lyndon Baines Johnson: J. Evetts Haley's Will the Real Lyndon Johnson Please Stand Up. Haley was a history professor--and, yes, a nutjob, a Texas rightwinger--but he was a vaunted historian and tried to stay true to his professional renown, though like any good Texan in those days, including Lyndon Johnson, he overblew it a little bit. Still it's fun reading. Another fun Texas book is H. L. Hunt's Utopian guidebook based on his imaginary society of the same name, Alpaca. [A little Texian aside there for you.]]
A former Texan,
for The Daily Growler
From Out of the The Daily Growler Office Attic, Nostalgia:
We would guess you'd have to be pretty damn old to know what the above "thing" is. What it is, it's a cardboard board that has "push out" buttons (those red circles that say "Push")--these were also called punch boards. This one is a football push-out-for-prize game in which the contestant is trying to win free candy bars. Each push out cost a nickel and guaranteed you at least one candy bar. However, if you pushed out a chit that said "Touchdown," you won 5, count 'em, 5 candy bars--the board was fixed to where no matter how many candy bars the candy store man had to give away, he always knew the board was loaded to where the regular sale of one candy bar at a nickel out grossed the number of bars given away on the prize spots.
Dig the football players and their uniforms and equipment--leather helmets and baggy uniforms--not much padding--big old cleated shoes--late 193os, early 1940s. This collectible comes from Philadelphia, P. A.
WARNING: We are at war in Libya now; according to President Obama, he has a Constitutional right under the War Powers Act to take us into war anywhere in the world he feels American citizens and privileges are under attack (with an intent to kill Americans). Look out Sudan. President Obama and his War Powers Act has its eyes on you. The question that should be on our minds is where is this president getting all this money these various wars are costing us? We are soon to get involved with the struggle for democracy now going on in Bahrain. We are already involved in the struggle for democracy going on in Yemen, where our Nobel Peace Prize-winning President has already under the War Powers Act approved of drone attacks driven by the CIA in our righteous attempt to clean out the unrighteous Islamic jihadists from that area of THEIR world--though according to our brilliant military advisors, we're mainly in Yemen to scrub out our greatly adaptive enemy, the mysterious al-Queda--who we say now has elected a new leader to replace the Devil himself--whose body we assume once dumped in the sea was floated straight down the world's drain into Christian hell by our new Crusader armed forces--and the Air Force does use Crusader missiles, doesn't it?
Bye the bye, don't worry about the current drop of the Dow-Jones. It doesn't mean anything. You see it's near the end of the fiscal year (July usually) for the our businesses, corporations, our government, so they are going to account for all their sins during this time--you know, like Yom Kippur for US corporations, nonprofits, foundations, governments, banks, etc.
And a Chaotic Shout From The Daily Growler to the Following:
The Greek Unions--they are striking en masse in Greece today--protesting the European Central Bank--the printer of Euros--the European banking establishment (based on US banking after World War II)--taking away Greek democracy should the surly Greeks reject these same banks forcing the Greek workingclass to pay for the robbing of the Greek treasury by Goldman Sachs thereby through fraud wrecking the Greek economy to the point the Greek Power Elite that has ruled Greece since World War II has sat idly by while the Greek economy went to the pirating dogs, a Power Elite that has consistently refused to tax the wealthiest Greeks, those who run around the world with free hands--like the Onassis clan, or like our own John Negroponte and his original Greek family--both families in the shipping business--the Greek Power Elite allowing these bastards to live like dukes and earls and barons and sheiks around the world, any port in a storm, watch out for your hot babe, that slimy Greek billionaire shipping magnate is eying your prize babe. And guess who the Greek workingclass is blaming for their current situation? Why President Obama who started all of this (well, actually Baby Boy Bush and Hank "Goldman-Sachs Pirate" Paulsen started it) by bailing out the banks and putting them back in the derivatives business--Jesus Christ, these are CROOKS we're supporting--and we here at the Growler call Bill Gates and Warren Buffett crooks, too--and Warren Buffett is proving himself a lying son of a bitch in this recent investigation of HIS Moody stock rating service--he's denying, denying, denying, like that little weasel Anthony Weiner was denying, denying, denying, until his pregnant wife got home and laid the fucking Hillary Clinton law down to his little weaselly ass. She'll be divorcing him--well, no she won't, because Jewish women don't divorce the fathers of their children--they make them pay out the nose for the rest of their lives. Like Hillary made old Slick "Big Dog" Willie pay for his good time with the young impressionable girls. Now a Porn Queen is revealing how she and Weiner, the little pervert, had "conversations," though she emphasized there wasn't any actual sex, a point she may be holding back on on the advice of her attorney--don't you think all these women are going to have to be paid off? So there goes Tony Weiner down that path of humiliation, a kid caught jacking off by his mommy, being pulled by his ear by his pregnant wife--mean women those pregnant women--a generalization we deny should any pregnant woman take offense from that statement.
----------------------------------Get your credit cards out, prices are going UP............................
P.S.: there are also demonstrations in Spain today and Portugal is watching Greece and the Irish are fleeing Ireland...and Iceland, who rebuked these same crooks, is backing the Greek workingclass against the bankers--and though Iceland is a dangerous land on which to survive, it certainly looks like a wonder place to live as long as you can survive--we mean, the whole earth is blowing up eventually--so where is it entirely safe anywhere on earth at the moment?
thestaff (thanx to franny & zoey)
for The Daily Growler "It's Getting Kind of Daily Again."