Dear Pasquale

Dear Pasquale,

Thanks for writing.  I am sorry I did not come this year.  The temperature and humidity were so excessive for the month of December, there was no way my reindeer could have survived the journey.  My sleigh could not penetrate the layers of infrasonic pollution being created at Ft. Bragg by their two SD70MAC diesel locomotives.  The hog and chicken manure, coal ash, and fungus in the Cape Fear River were too much of a deterrent to Rudolph.  He has a very sensitive nose.  All in all it was better to stay away.  The STRACNET corridor along I-95 through Pembroke to Sunny Point is a major waste dump.  I can't believe there is any life left there at all.  It's ironic to me that during this heat-laden Christmas, Duke power was at a loss for supplying the necessary electricity to cool your homes.  It is because that in addition to creating extremely harmful low frequency sound waves often that are below 1 Hz, those SD70MAC's drain your power gird.  It is a property of physics, electromagnetic waves manifest themselves on each other despite the carrier.  When those AC traction locomotives are running, it is like a huge suffocating blanket on the region, kind of like a huge furnace.  Of course there is no such thing as global warming.  Ho ho ho!  Merry Christmas!  

Santa Claus
      

Dear Santa...

Dear Santa,

      I want to know why this Christmas was the hottest on record.  Winter came a few weeks ago, and we really were in the mood for a white Christmas.  Suddenly right before the anniversary of Jesus's birth, what we call Christmas, the wind stopped blowing.  The humidity rose to 100%, and it became the hottest Christmas on record.  It was miserable, Santa.  The Milan yardmaster saw fit to leave two of his locomotives idling on the tracks for a week surrounding Christmas Eve.  One was a DASH 8, and I don't know what the other was.  Why didn't he just turn them off?  Because it was the hottest Christmas on record, there was no need to keep the diesels warm.  Instead of decreasing carbon and infrasonic emissions for the week surrounding Christmas, the Milan yardmaster chose to pollute the little baby Jesus with the warm farts from continuously running diesel locomotives.  How irresponsible was that?  It sucked.  That DASH 8 engine hunted all week revving up and down making my ears ring and my skin scrawl.  I couldn't enjoy the Christmas season at all, because of that DASH 8 running continuously with no engineer or conductor.  It just sat there, running, helplessly all week.  Part of me wanted to spray it with bullets from my AR-15, but I resisted.  (and I don't own an AR-15) There it sat, lonely on the tracks, just running the entire week of Christmas.  Isn't that a waste of fuel, Santa?  I have some other questions too, Santa.  Why does no one report on that big hole in the Ozone over the South Pole?  When I looked at the weather pattern on TV for the hottest Christmas on record, I saw a pattern I never had seen before.  It was not the jet stream coming down from Alaska.  It was not the clockwise rotation of the Caribbean hurricane season.  The air was coming straight up from the South Pole from that huge hole in the Ozone.  I could feel space moving at its great velocity as it broke through that giant hole and found its way north to America.  It was hot, Santa.  I know the oil companies want this.  They want to melt the polar ice caps so they can drill for oil, but can't you stop them?  They talk about global warming and the burning of fossil fuels, but no one ever talks about what actually happens, like that giant hole in the Ozone over the South Pole.  I realize the Navy likes their low frequency submarine transmitters there, but isn't there a better place to burn a huge hole in the Ozone?  In addition to that idling DASH 8 locomotive at the Milan yard, why do they seem to be putting trains together during Christmas either at Ft. Bragg, Sunny Point, or at the Port of Miami?  Isn't Christmas a time to relax and celebrate the birth of the baby Jesus.  Why would America so openly and blatantly disguise this season with terrorist-like assaults? Is it because America has been trying to obliterate Christianity for a decade?  Well Santa, they did a good job.  It was the worst Christmas ever.  I can understand why you couldn't get here on your reindeer driven sleigh.  It was no match for the infrasonic and carbon pollution surrounding our town.  It was miserable, and it still is going on.  When will it stop, Santa, and we will get to see you?  Ho ho ho.   Thank you.  Pasquale.  

Facebook, Notes in High School

I admit I am a fan of Facebook.  I log into the social networking program daily to try to stay abreast of things.  Often I am disappointed.  I have narrowed my newsfeed to contain only remnants of posts from my Friends.  There was not much worth reading.  That which I did read merely was distracting to my life as is most of what I deal with daily.  Life is a distraction, at least life in America today.  That is why I created this blog entitled "The Conditions of America."  It is a forum where I can vent my frustrations with life in America.  During this Christmas season it has become clear to me how America has changed.  America readily has succumbed to what must be the lowest cultural standards in our history.  When I try to think of any cultural activities that might inspire my day nothing comes to mind except logging into Facebook.  That instinct is a crutch for what used to be cultural practices.  It is easy.  It is an addiction, because it is easier than almost any other thing I can think of to do.  Occasionally it provides me a tangible emotional reward.  Usually that is late at night when the rest of the world slumbers.  I see it for what it is, a means of communication.  To America Facebook has become the Great American Songbook without the songs.  We rely upon it, it is part of our lives, and it is difficult to give up.  Never have I seen an entire nation, formally the world's superpower, abandon its culture heritage entirely for a small social networking application found on a computer via the internet.  Quintessentially Facebook could be considered the biggest ruse in American history.  Of all the things I would want to hear people speak about, it is not, "Like us on Facebook."  The news reporting industry, formerly a respectable and integral component of American life, now asks their viewers to, "Like us on Facebook."  No one is benefitting from this except Facebook.  When I try to think back about all of the exciting things that used to occur in America, nothing comes to mind.  David Lynch's iconic film "Wild at Heart" was on television last night, and it reinforced how much America has changed since the death of Elvis Presley.  It is startling now in America how quickly iconic figures are forgotten upon their deaths.  Consequently their influences seem to be wiped from our hard drives with nary a thought.  This is not good.  This has not been good for jazz music, as most of its original purveyors have died and are forgotten.  What can this say about America?  We shovel dirt upon the graves readily of those Americans who die with no thought to their influences or achievements.  What entity is it whose responsibility it is to curate America's culture?  Radio.  Radio is dead, just as music is dead.  America is a pale shadow of her former self sucking on the tit of Facebook each day instead of savoring our historical culture or trying to pioneer new culture.  Facebook is an empty drug but a potent one.  I am not sure if its reward is quite as good as heroin.   When jazz musicians took drugs, it was to aid the process of expression and creativity inherent in music-making.   Drugs were used as an avenue to higher art.  What does Facebook give us?  

It's Time to Lighten Up With Heroin

I knew the war on drugs was real, but never has it felt like its loss would be doomsday.  For the inhabitants of Juarez, Mexico the recently released film "Sicario" depicts it that way.  Being cast as an action thriller helps explain the dire nature of its plot.  Murderous cartel leaders are a heinous breed, and in today's political climate it is difficult to discern their activity from that of Islamic Extremists.  Beheading is a common thread which helps blur the boundary between them.  Possibly the drug cartels in Mexico desire the same amount of power wielded by armed Islamic Militants.  Maybe all ready they have it.  Who is to say which professions earns the most capital, heroin production and sales, or black market oil?  It is all intertwined, and poppy production in Afghanistan is part of it.  The question lingering in my mind is is the War on Drugs equal to the War on Terrorism?  It seemed like it after seeing  "Sicario."  After reflecting I understand now the film was penned majorly through the eyes of a former Mexican prosecutor whose wife and daughter were murdered by a cartel drug lord.  It was personal, but America's War on Drugs is not.  Drugs in America, especially heroin, symbolically do not represent murderous violence.  They represent an escape from a brutal reality created by a political regime administered by George W. Bush.  It is not unlike violent murderous drug cartels or Islamic terrorists.  W. created this era of terrorism on a grander scale than existed before in America.  Globalism fueled it.  Greed has propelled it.  At one point my intent was to characterize America today without George. It would be easy.  The Clinton's "Multiculturalism" would have continued.  Art would have continued.  Instead today we are on a path of destruction and desolation.  Films like "Sicario" do not help.  With a change of ownership of American film studios, culture in America is being influenced in a detrimental way.  George created a culture of "Fear and Intimidation" but the film studios seem to be continuing it.  I had to sort out my feelings at the end of the film and realize the War on Drugs is not one of life and death.  It was for Alejandro Gillick, an ex-prosecutor of the drug regimes in Juarez, Mexico.  It is easy to internalize the sentiments of cinema into your own sensibilities, but murderous revenge is a bit of a stretch for the average American.  It suggests otherwise, as do many America-made films these days.  Movies are continuing the Campaign of Fear and Intimidation.  I learned some things by watching "Sicario."  I got a glimpse into the seedy underworld of counterterrorism.  I felt I was watching Blackwater during the War in Iraq.  I began to understand the role of a security force in foreign wars.  It is one big cess pool.  It is interesting how providing a euphoric escape for  poor hopeless Americans begins with murderous violence in Mexico and Afghanistan.  

"One Ringy Dingy.... Two Ringy Dingies.... (Set it on the Porch)

About the recent slew of porch thefts.  With the economy staid, and America's money sitting in individual billionaire checking accounts overseas, it should be no surprise that the desperate are lifting what must be the easiest dupe available.  It was not that long ago before mass internet commerce carriers did the unthinkable.  They rang your doorbell and waited for you to answer to accept your package.  Suddenly like many things in America, that protocol has disappeared.  Carriers are covering their bases.  When a problem arises from new mass internet commerce, suddenly Brown feels not liable.  It has not been a traditional practice to pile packages on your doorstep in full view of passing traffic!  [sic]  NOT.  It was not long ago carriers were not in such a hurry to amass billions of dollars going straight into individual billionaire checking accounts.  Once in America the wealth managed to distribute fairly evenly before internet commerce, before the iPhone, and before slovenly millennials.  I am not suggesting slovenly millennials are responsible for the porch thefts, either by refusing to ring someone's doorbell and wait for an answer, or by actually stealing the available packages themselves.  I am saying, "What the @#$%?"  What America is this?  It didn't take long before a class action lawsuit beset itself upon Uber.  All I can say is,  "Ah!"  They had it coming.  Shame on Brown for assuming no liability for their stolen packages.  Shame on right wing media for making Trump a fascist, although he may be.  It is good to be aware of America's enemies, although we no longer are the same America.  Possibly we have grown into a nation of fascism.  Glimpses back to the original Cold War like the Berlin Wall are telling in reminding America freedom only is a generation away.  We all ready have lost much of it to billionaire internet commerce moguls.  While I detest the idea of trusts, such as the railroads in America's history, a trust can be a way to trust things good such as film.  Selling your Hollywood movie studio to Japan or China for billions instead of intrusting it to those beneath you.... well that has been the monumental failure of the Baby Boomer generation.  Never before have I witnessed such entitlement.  Control, power, wealth, and happiness all careening into the grave leaving a gaping hole in America's culture.  Why are they so resistant handing the reigns to the children?  Why are the children of Baby Boomers dying while taking care of their aging parents?   Music once was symbolic of American culture.  It was symbolic of ideology, sentiment, and hope.  Music was the essence of American humanity.  Miley Cyrus twerking.  Justin Biber schnerking.  Adele losing (the popularity contest.)  Still America is in high school, and always it has been.  My decayed molar looks like a miniature oriental dragon.  It also looks like the raised clinched fist of black power, although it is ivory-colored.  My wisdom tooth looks like a cornucopia.  Somehow these dead teeth are symbolic of something.  The cornucopia murdered the oriental dragon, from the inside out.  You could not see the murder, until it was uncovered by a competent oral surgeon.  It was amazing that such a battle took place in my mouth clandestinely making me ill for over half a year.  Who knew?  I do now.  

The D.T.'s (NYPD Blue cameraman withdrawal) creates the "Third Tangent"

Joel and Ethan Cohen's collaboration with director and producer emeritus Steven Spielberg "Bridge of Spies" was slow to start.  Starkly it reminded me of the slow start of the film "The Cheap Detective," when I saw it one cloudy summer afternoon at the beach in Wilmington, North Carolina.  It was so slow to start my father insisted we leave, and we did.  (It was not until recently I understood its angle, and I liked it immensely.)  During the first half hour of this newly released, Cold War, reflection film, I asked myself several times why I was watching such a thing.  I came to terms with this newer style of cinematography.  Back in the day of Jimmy Smits seemingly a lone cameraman filming "NYPD Blue" inadvertently implemented instead of steady-cam filming a "jittery-cam" filming.  Clearly I remember it.  What sould have been a normal scene from a crime/drama television episode suddenly grew a new tangent.  It was mute, inhuman, and scurried around like Gollum in "Lord of the Rings."  It viewed the actors drama from the viewpoint of a midget.  I learned in my summer school course "Stagecraft"  lighting actors from below creates a demonic effect.  Our sun does not emanate up from hell,  so actors should not be lit this way except in specific scenarios depicting demonic content.  Unfortunately ground-level lighting and a cameraman's jittery hands have become commonplace in television and film production for no legitimate reason.  [sic]  This practise created a new tangent,  an undesirable character like Uncle Eddie in the National Lampoon film "Christmas Vacation."  His sole purpose is to create chaos, chaos we observe the actors mitigate into a viable entertainment.  Utilizing a "third-party" antagonist which is not an actor, not human, and is invisible is a weighty production decision.  Its name is Rupert Murdoch [sic] and his committee is the media.  The song title "Wannabee," a hit by the spice Girls, a quintessential metaphor.  We have quality, studied, historically-based film making dating back to the 1920's.  It was heralded like art, music, poetry, prose, and painting.  Today music like film and television production has included a similar unimportant tangent.  It is today's audience.  That is what you see now on television music programs.  Like today's acting on many occasions the live performance of music is subordinate to the audience.  It is inconsequential.  The third tangent also can be lighting, theme music, and artificially created tension and release.  This is best represented in the better produced  reality TV shows and now is common.  The talent doesn't really matter, or at least the producers extract what is necessary from the untrained participants.  What less expensive way is there to produce watchable television programing!?  Exploit everyday people like jazz musicians who seek their fortune.  Give them malaria, botulism, and diphtheria, buy their songs, and whisk them off the set like a post-surgical patient.  Buy their standard wares and watch them die at the bottom of a whiskey bottle while you make your fortune.  This exploitation can be the same for lottery winners.  Many do not have the front money to cover the taxes on their winnings, so they do not receive anything.  (Scam.)  The third tangent isn't necessarily Big Brother.  Instead it should be Little Brother.  It is a chimpanzee, or at least the intellectual intent and resulting product of a lone monkey running around the set with a hand-held camera.  Igor running around the set of "Young Frankenstein" was effective and humorous!  You could see him, and he was a viable part of the action.  I watched "Bridge of Spies," and began to like it more as it progressed.  I had to tell myself I was watching the close up war footage of "Saving Private Ryan" and and current film making technique whether I liked it or not.  I'm not sure it is effective.  There are multitude of traditional war-themed movies which have been comfortable planting the camera on traditional mounts like dollies, cranes, helicopters, and tripods, and simply watching the actors' craft.  (Mr. Spielberg also utilizes these techniques)  Many of these expertly-shot films are worthy of accolades.  With the concerted ignoring of necessary components of good film production, albeit for financial constraints, this third tangent (or its representing committee) is used to try and salvage a film.  If I wanted to watch a monkey (Rupert Murdoch) with a camera instead of Martin Scorsese, Paul Verhoven, Adrian Lyne, or Sydney Pollack I would not watch at all.  I could understand if the third tangent, a pair of tremulous hands caused by delirium tremens needed his paycheck, but unlike jazz improvisation this aberration of filming adequately has not been justified, studied, and appropriately integrated into film technique.  It is an unsuccessful contrivance.  Is it intended to be modern?  Is it intended to be Post-Modern?  Is filming worthy actors, meticulously-constructed sets, innovative lighting, and digitally-recorded sound by a cartoon creature from the "Lord of the Rings" really an appropriate avenue for film-making in the century 2000?  Just as the internet, wireless communications, and the media are slinging their guns and forging new territory in the wild west of current America, I choose to look backwards whence film came.  This is proof in the pudding.  It is  proof that human beings still are trying to watch films though difficult as some studios are making it by utilizing the shortcut of digital rendering.  Shooting from the perspective of and reducing us to neurotic, delusional, ADD riddled adolescents may be a way to grift allowances from the pockets of America's youth, but like Wall Street's digressions it does not make it moral or ethical.  If the "Third Tangent" eliminates Christianity, no one can know the difference.  Who knew Agnosticism in film and television had become the new "Twelve" in America?  

The Enemy of the Wisdom Tooth and Its Dupe

Although appropriately subdued still I am ecstatic that the offending bacteria-laden teeth are absent from my mouth.  I began having pangs of discomfort upon biting on my left side over six months ago.  I suspected it was more than my bite signature on a newly installed crown.  My dentist in Turkey was very accomplished, and although my bite was a little tight at the onset it quieted down.  It was the subterranean cavity lurking in my back most molar caused by my wisdom tooth barreling into it under the camouflage of my gum.  The impending damage to my molar wholly was disguised up inside my gum.  Drats!  There was nothing I could have done other than having had the wisdom tooth extracted sooner.  Saving my molar was a longshot, and while I never had an opportunity to bet on it, I lost.  It is of no consequence because the offending choppers now are sitting on my computer desk in front of me.  That afflicted molar has a large cavity in it at the mid point below the surface of my gum line.  Let's hear it for oral surgeons who are familiar with these hidden anomalies.  I was not fond of my molar, because when my permanent teeth began entering my mouth as an adolescent there was not enough room.  There were teeth all ready there, and quite a few of them had to be pulled.  Each time I visited the dentist he would pull yet another deeply-rooted permanent tooth until finally there was room for the ones I had.  Braces were next to force the newly emerged teeth to stand in rank and file.  It was a tedious process to undergo during puberty, and it didn't contribute to my self-esteem, especially dealing with girls.  I like them, but not that often they liked me after this gross process of growing vampire teeth in fifth grade.  When my braces were removed in the later part of eight grade, finally I had a nice smile.  All of that aside and of course weighing on my mind, my thoughts can divert to current events.