Failed Rail

I am tired of loss.  When we played for the ceremonial Lighting of Trees in Lumberton the other night, the keynote speaker said we spend half of our lives navigating loss.  That was a cheerful bit of narrative.  His wife had died recently after finishing her book "Mr. Owita's Guide to Gardening:  How I Learned the Unexpected Joy of a Green Thumb and Open Heart."  I have not read it.  He never really said the name of the book clearly.  He did make it clear she had recurring cancer and recently died from it.  He remarried and was publicizing her book from which the profits were to go to Southeastern Hospice.  That was a heavy message for a Christmas tree lighting.  I have been surrounded by death for the last few years.  People die at an unusual rate in Cumberland Country.  It must be true if there is a FB page named "Remembering Our Lost Friends."  The list keeps getting longer, and these are young people, former students at Terry Sanford High School.  That means that life in "Da Ville" is difficult.  I always have known that.  I was a product of school segregation.  It began slowly, and a few black children appeared in our classrooms at Belvedere Elementary School, later to be renamed Margaret Willis.  Then when it came time for fourth grade and to move on to another school, I was bused across town to Ramsey Street School.  Busing if you don't know means you got on a bus in your own neighborhood and were trekked down The Murch, past Fayetteville State University, and up the hill to the school.  I did not have a bad time at Ramsey Street School.  Mrs. Fairly was my fourth grade teacher, and I was elected President of my class.  My secretary was Janet Beard, now Janet Thoren, an attorney with two grown children.  Her daughter is in the military, and her son plays hockey.  I did well academically for the most part, but during fifth grade my permanent teeth began to come in, crooked.  My mouth was so small the first time I visited a dentist he pulled one of my teeth.  I screamed like bloody hell, and he slapped my hand.  My teeth were so screwed up, Dr. Roberson just kept pulling permanent teeth as soon as they came in.  I got used to the excruciating pain, him wrenching on my teeth with those pliers.  There was no gingerly prying with a probe.  He just went in, clamped down on the tooth, and wrenched it out.  Pain, but I was used to it.  The few fillings I had were worse, the ones that developed underneath my braces.  Matt and Beth, his kids, were our friends.  It was that family who allowed me to experience the bliss of motorcycling.  There weren't many families who were close knit enough to indulge in motorsports responsibly.  The Robersons grandparents lived in Buie's Creek.  One set owned a trailer park and lived on the property.  It was a motorcycle riding oasis, and there is nothing ever I have done that was as enjoyable.  It was the ultimate freedom.  I still ride today, but on a limited basis.  The woods behind our house still have the trails I cleared forty years ago.  They also now have every kind of poison you can imagine.  I guess it is those damn bird who eat the berries and poop out the seeds.  The sumac grows in large trees, and it took a long time to get rid of those.  Then there is the ivy and the oak.  One you catch that itchy rash, you are reluctant to return to the spot whence you caught it.  Motorcyling is an enjoyable activity.  The other activity I rediscovered while living on cruise ships was skateboarding.  Fayetteville is an anti-skateboard city.  There is a city ordinance which says you cannot ride a bicycle in historic downtown, and yet Raleigh and other cities have allowed scooters to be driven on sidewalks.  They want allow physical exercise, but they will allow an upstart millennial company to rent deadly scooters to unsuspecting adolescents.  America is a mismanaged nation.  One hand does not know that the other one is doing, including collecting absentee ballots in Elizabethtown.  None of this is what about what I intended to write.  What I want to write about is my lack of opportunity to create music.  Much to my mother's dismay, when I came home to tend to my dying father my musical equipment came with me.  Two of my motorcycles have been in our garage for a long time.  When he shared Thanksgiving dinner with my sister's family, I listened to my mother complain about my "stuff."  It is true that the master bedroom has become somewhat of a music studio.  I have been happy with it thus far, except recently when I realized that playing music "live" meant playing at a particular volume in a club or church like space.  She has goaded me about many things, and usually I accomplish whatever task is at hand.  this particular rant was untimely.  She would like for me to be playing again, but a cruise ship job is not convenient at the moment.  Not only do the cruise lines want to hire beginner musicians so they can pay them less, they require a very stringent medical exam which costs over $500.00.  You must pay for this yourself as a token of your sincerity to the company.  I did this a few years ago like I have for the past fifteen years at the same facility.  Except this time they refused to accept it.  Not only did the desk attendant overcharge me for the lab work, he also verbally harassed me because of my race.  What fun!  No job and racism.  Welcome to Fayetteville.  In my quest to play live, promptly I went down to our garage and devised a new "rig" upon which to play keyboards.  I restored my third Rhodes piano and built a shelf system to stack my other keyboards on top of it.  In about a weeks time, I had a new/old rig that sounded better than anything I have every played through.  My old rig was peach, and I was using basically the same equipment but through new amplification with the added Rhodes.  It emerged out of the oak dust in our garage, and midnight until six a.m. became my new work time.  In this extremely short period of time, say one week, I was able to create a recording environment in which I could sequence backing tracks with which to play.  It is no easy task to create a hip jazz feeling in the middle of a war-torn city.  The fifty caliber machine guns are as clear as day, their sound, and the cannons.  The ground shakes.  After midnight the local rail activity of both Norfolk Southern, who must be providing the limestone for Fayetteville Block Materials, and the Aberdeen and Rockfish who do most of their business at River Terminal in Cumberland County, subsides.  Unlike CSX-T who often switch trains 24/7, at least the majority of the local rail activity ceases.  At least it did for this one particular week.  Then two things happened.  One was it got cold overnight.  With the onset of global warming, we have lost our seasons.  Fayetteville always has been the hottest city in North Carolina.  It partly could be because we are situated in the Cape Fear River Basin.  Heat and humidity from the Atlantic Ocean travels directly up this trench.  It does not help that the military's deep water munitions port is at the mouth of the Cape Fear River.  This industrial activity, a rail head and three large container ship docks, creates heat.  These vehicles burn oxygen and release carbon into the atmosphere.  Fayetteville is hot for several reasons.  One is the Cargill plant also on the Cape Fear River.  They manufacture oils which are produced by heating either vegetable or soybeans.  Then there is Valley Proteins which also renders animal fat by heating carcasses.  Hexion produced ammonia products.  Both of these plants are located at River Terminal, which the Aberdeen and Rockfish service.  They house their locomotives in Aberdeen, and they travel several times a week to "Da Ville" to make their money.  We citizens of Fayetteville are so fortunate to reap the benefit of their industrial activity.  The city of Fayetteville is the Rail Head of the Carolinas.  Not only are we a part of STRACNET, the Pentagon's strategic rail corridor servicing Military Ocean Terminal Sunny Point, but we are a connection for two Class A railroads, CSX-T and Norfolk Southern.  Add in the activity of the Aberdeen and Rockfish and you have a train horn problem.  The City Council has entertained the idea of a "No Blow" zone, and it is a bad idea.  It is a bad idea, because downtown Fayetteville is a safety disgrace.  When the rail survey was done over a decade ago, specific recommendations were made to improve grade crossings downtown.  One was the building of a connector track which would connect the Fort Bragg/Norfolk Southern track directly to the CSX-T mainline.  This new track would stop military trains from backing down Russell Street and blocking traffic for long periods of time.  Now that a new bridge has built and the land underneath has been cleared, there is no better time for CSX-T to add this track.  They won't, because they operate on splinters and shrapnel to keep their property taxes low.  The Vander line which services these military trains is a disgrace.  It is a miracle that it functions at all with its poor upkeep.  A quiet zone is a bad idea, because the citizens of Fayetteville need to know when a rapidly moving freight train is approaching.  They are covert about their whistles now.  There is a strict set of guidelines for railroad horns at grade crossings.  It is of no matter that affluent families have purchased overpriced real estate in downtown Fayetteville.  That was their choice, and they should have known in what they were investing.  People all ready have been killed by erroneously pulling on to the CSX-T mainline, and the city has covered it up.  There are no crossing gates on Hay Street, and with a new minor league baseball stadium being built, death is imminent.  The train horns for me are a relief, because when I hear them I know why my musical activity suffers.  There is a reason why my keyboard sounds move in a repeating circle distorting their true stereo image.  There is a reason why monophonic MP3 files seem to sound better emanating from an Amazon Tap, Echo, Dot, or Show.  Locomotive-produced infrasound, which has become constant in Fayetteville because of the increased activity of Ground Forces Command at Fort Bragg, skews sound.  When it is present human beings never will experience the full effect of music as it once was.  Instead the music is modulated by an invisible force, an invisible moderator, a locomotive engineer, or a military gunner, who while they are operating ultimately have control over your music production.  When we recorded in Nashville with the Matt Kiernan band, the engineers at our studio were perplexed why in the wee hours of the morning an "arc" would emerge dead shorting some of their audio busses.  I had to explain to them that this was from an AC traction locomotive that was passing through, and we had to wait for it to pass.  It took me several years to figure this out.  Not only are there low frequency sounds waves in great amounts, there is electricity.  My musical output suffers from both.  My reverb comes and goes, my stereo signal moves in a circle, and I get dead shorts on occasion.  Somehow during this one wonderful week, nighttime train activity was at a low.  My studio emerged, the temperature was moderate, and for once I could actualize my former repertoire of jazz-oriented music.  I am talking about feel.  I am talking about groove.  I am talking about being able to play time in music, which is generated from a feeling or emotion created by a human beings mind and body.  This is the magic of music, and this is what is lacking in today's popular music.  The massive expansion of rail activity, its trade on the stock market, and its weighty investors have capitalized on the invisibility of their pollution.  The death of the music industry is a direct ramification of their profit.  Novice television competitors are not capable of creating a professional musical product, much less trying to overcome the effects of an invisible hindrance to the creation of time, feeling, and groove.  Pop is their substitute, an elfin groove that uses the square pulse created by today's computer as its base.  There is no need to learn how to play time based upon certain feels such as the Bossa Nova, the Samba, the Merengue, or Salsa.  These forms are the lost art of music, and they are worth preserving.  It was my quest to use my newly formed studio to program some of these feels with which to play.  Two things happened.  It got cold, and my thirty year old Yamaha DX-7llFD began to stiffen up.  Its plastic buttons became cold and brittle and would not function.  I realized in the blink of an eye I would have to sacrifice my new studio for the longevity of my old equipment.  Although my kerosene heater was efficient  heating the garage for short amounts of time, I could not keep the temperature moderated enough for it to function as a full time music studio.  I packed up my gear and hauled it upstairs to try and recreate my sound.  It was impossible.  After a few days of futile fury, I reassembled an abbreviated system in the same space which sat idle.  The second thing that happened was a continual low frequency standing appeared in an instant, and it has not stopped since.  Its origin either is at the Honeycutt Marshalling Yard at Fort Bragg, at DAK Americas, or in the CSX-T Milan yard as they service the Cargill plant.  It is no help that all of the railroads have succumbed to the snake oil pitch of GE.  Norfolk Southern, who resisted the conversion to AC traction in its inception, now has consented to have their C40-9 locomotives rebuilt.  Even the smaller GP-38's and SD-40-2's have been offered this conversion sealing the fate of America's music industry.  There is no way mainstream music ever will possess its former power to transform humanity.  That is because this invisible force is emasculating music the way it is emasculating people.  It robs us of the very things we need to survive and feel healthy.  This is why we are a nation on drugs.  I am suffering from the loss of this fleeting week, a week of nirvana where I once again was enabled to do what I do well, create music freely and without the influence of anyone I do not choose.  For me this is happiness.  This is freedom, and America has been robbed of this right by the rail industry. 

Soul Crushing Competition

America the shallow.  When musicians, actors, comedians, and artists die in America the Bilderbergs sigh.  "No more smart people to tell the truth."  The reason why there is soul crushing competition in the market, is because truth and righteousness never go unpunished.  Real people, real artists, genuine human beings often tell the truth through their art forms.  The Bilderbergs sigh a sigh of relief.  "Another gone."  Big Brother absorbs yet another soul.  Soon all of the truth and artistry will be absent from our lives.  It almost is now.  Then the Bilderbergs instruct the media how to conflate reality merging fancy with truth.  Turn on the tube and you will see it.  No programming, but this thing.  This miniature fabricated narrative about a useless product underscored with the most vile and insulting music in existence.  It is nothing.  Television commercials are the worst nothing, the most heinous, offensive, destructive tool at the Bilderberg's disposal.  Most adults know television is not good for you, but most adults my age grew up on television.  American television was a core of our culture, and it was not bad.  It was not destructive.  It enhanced our lives, gave us heroes, and brought us together.  Television of itself created the American mainstream.  Now it tears us apart.  It cripples the mind and the soul.  To see the American spirit, revolution, anarchy, and freedom become debased, and watch spineless wieners pat each other's back on Capital Hill.  We are anesthetized.  We are high on prescription narcotics.  We are murderous and violent.  We are determined to feel something despite the smothering, oppressive, evil wave of death that encircles us each day.  War.  Ensuing war.  High school drop outs.  Homosexual army generals.  Why did Boeing's stock drop?  The answer is because Gulfstream was awarded the Compass Call contract with L3.  Boeing is out.  Defense contractors are just that.  They are defending the Bilderbergs, not Americans.  Would you trust G.I. Joe to protect you when the enemy invades America?  They are not capable of thinking for themselves.  They follow orders.  They protect poppy patches.  The militia is the last line of defense against imperialism.  No one will protect your home and your family except you.  Ask Roy Cooper.  Ask all of those citizens who lost their homes to Hurricanes Flo and Matthew.  Where's our money to rebuild?  Where is the skateboard park in Fayettenam?  Why hasn't the Cape Fear Bike Trail been completed.  The generals at Fort Nag want a two million dollar tunnel underneath I-295 to get to their drop zones.  Isn't one tunnel enough to load their precious munitions en route to Afghanistan?   It has become all or nothing at all, and many songs have been written about it.  Panic.  Anxiety.  Poverty.  These are tools to manipulate the populace into annihilation.  It has worked.  School shootings?  They are unheard of except in America.  Mass murders at schools?  Everyone turns a blind eye.  Washington should be responsible, and they would have been if the Kennedy's were in power.  Democrats.  Humanists.  Artists.  Orators.  Scholars.  It has been a shallow run in America, the twenty-first century.  The pollution that is ripping a hole through the core of the earth, twisting our minds, distorting our gender, and feeding narcissism.  What I can't understand is why the pie cannot be spread out?  This ridiculous prime time television exploiting our youth, promising fame, and subverting art.  Once you used to have to go to school to learn to be a musician.  Still you do.  These infuriating foreign agents, post Nazi sympathizers who wants for themselves.  Simon.  The rest.  They single-handedly have destroyed the music industry.  Radio.  Albums.  Tapes.  Big Brother.  That's what they are.  Brainwashing.  Like all products.  The way it once was.  Small products for everyone.  Unique.  Different.  Not mainstream.  Not Amazon.  Why can't there be small inexpensive products, and why can't the small businesses who make them make a living?  Grass roots.  A little for everyone.  But no!  In America it has become, "All or Nothing."  The most ridiculous of it all, the fucking lottery.  The perfect metaphor for an irresponsible society.  Collecting money from those who never have a chance, and giving a treasure to those who have no ability to use it wisely.  I can't imagine what other cultures think of Americans.  They always have hated us, but they love our freedom.  Those Mexicans are turning around and heading back to Dodge.  

Presidential Suckage

No one seems to notice.  Is it only when you begin to get old you see deficiencies in society?  Is this really a comparison of now and then, and things do not get better.  Isn't that to what countries, nations aspire?  Is that not our entire goal of existence, to make the world a better place?  Contrarily we only are living for immediate gratification.  Take a look at Washington.  Then take a look at your state government.  North Carolina has one of the the most racist, lop-sided, corrupt state governments in the union.  Not much has changed from plantation days when imported African slaves did much of the work.  Slavery was such a contested issue, it broke the country in two and sacrificed hundreds of thousands of innocent American lives.  We alternately have lived in relative times of peace.  I experienced Viet Nam and Bush seniors Persian Gulf War, the first "television" war.  Rumsfeld and his crew went into Iraq for spite to serve up a healthy plate of revenge for Senior.  There were no weapons of mass destruction, and Saddam Hussein was not responsible for 9/11.  It was W.'s vendetta to his dad.  We tore a country apart, because we could.  Consequently ISIS was formed with the leftovers of American generosity.  The Bush Clan, no matter how appealing they are on the surface as people, created the ongoing war in which the United States still is involved.  American soldiers continue to die.  They continue to lose their lives for America, and we do not even know for what we are fighting.  No one says why we are fighting in Afghanistan except the Sackler family.  Let me rephrase.  They are not allowed in this affluent family to mention that their family company manufactures oxycontin.  (or is it oxycodone?)  America is as dirty as she ever was, and yet we operate behind a sickening, childlike, in-denial facade of far right sanctioned hypocritical purity.  Fayetteville, North Carolina is home to the largest military installation in North America, and yet there is no legalized prostitution.  Bill Hurley cleaned up Hay Street and vowed none of those businesses ever would operate in Fayetteville again.  The soldiers have one notable strip club which to frequent to remind themselves there is more to life than shooting fifty caliber machine guns and loading munition trains with expensive equipment that disappears onto cargo ships at MOTSP.  We are funding a war and the American people have not clue what it is about.  We also do not know how we are benefiting from spending seven hundred billion dollars each fiscal year.  The country's infrastructure is crumbling.  Highways, bridges, and electrical systems.  The unfortunate citizens of North and South Carolina have not been reimbursed for two major hurricanes.  The money sits in Raleigh with a lame duck governor who was voted out of power before he even was sworn in.  That is the ilk of the North Carolina statehouse.  Charge customers for Duke Energy's coal ash disaster.  Nothing much has changed in Carolina.  The plantation owners still drink their lemonade, call on their slaves to do their chores, and line their pockets with the money of the unsuspecting entitled.  The Republicans are so good at dividing periods into atoms, they could figure out how to give W. his presidential win in Florida.  We are a third world country.  There is no middle class.  Wages are stagnant.  Government fees, all insurances, and private products continue to inflate while Americans become more poor.  Nothing is said.  My truck insurance has increased over one hundred dollars each six months with no claims.  When we ask the agent, they tell us it is Raleigh and the Insurance Commission.  If we really looked, and looked hard at the small nucleus of families who rule the world there is no room left for the rest of us.  They are not concerned with us, the peons.  They have made their money, they will keep their money banked in overseas accounts, and America will continue to starve until the second coming of Jesus Christ.  There is no solution.  There will be no cure, because for their to be a cure spirituality must become important again.  Spirituality rooted in God and Christianity will have to create a new moral order, and this new moral order will have to eradicate our current system of rule.  It is that simple.  Is is called a coup, and America is not capable.  Once when pioneering immigrants were willing to fight for their freedom it was possible.  Today the brain-washed, gender confused, self-absorbed youth are not capable understanding how corrupt America really is.  We are too brain-washed on the most childish, immature, inane advertising that ever existed on this earth.  It is from another planet.  When famine and pestilence overcome our race, who is going to eat their iPhone?  Who is going to use the internet to order designer dinners?  Who is going to use in iPhone to pay for a pizza?  The internet is not the future.  It is Big Brother.  It is difficult to imagine what the prospectus is.  What do they want, those rich families who rule the world?  Certainly it seems not to sustain the only planet we have upon which to live.  Gump.  Certainly we are protecting all of the old money who is causing global warming.  It must be like the Greek gods who bicker and complain, selfish, self-absorbed celebrities who don't possess enough gray matter to understand that our earth truly is in peril.  What gets me the most is America has become, "All Or Nothing."  What happened to a fair share for everyone?  Everyone gets a shot.  Spread out the wealth, so everyone gets a little, and everyone has a little to spend.  Wall Street trading put an end to that.  They put an end to real products, real supply and demand, and small business.  Wall Street became the Las Vegas of New York, and those high rollers became addicted to the spoils.  A few of them are in jail.  A few more will be going to jail soon.  Meanwhile the fabric of America has been destroyed, and the small businessman, the one who grew this county into something great and meaningful is naught.  We broke up the telecommunications industry in the Baby Bells before cell phones existed.  They would not exist today if it weren't for dirty Bill, the President who was too stupid to understand that infidelities are not welcome in the Oval Office else you get caught, impeached, and disgraced.  Is this kind of judgement Presidential?  We have had a tough run, America.  The White Supremacists didn't like Obama, although he was been the most wise of any of our most recent Presidents.  He knew insurance premiums would spiral out of reach when he left the White House, but he said, "Make it happen.  I'll be out of office, and Americans will have health insurance."  Dirty Bill auctioned off the microwave frequencies of the electromagnetic spectrum.  The planet is warming.  GE is selling their locomotive production to Wabtec.  Wabtec?  Westinghouse Air Brakes.  Westinghouse.  Caterpillar dropped on the stock market today, and they own ProgressRail.  Progress Rail bought EMD.  Locomotives are warming the planet, and yet nothing is said.  I am tired of fighting it.  Sometimes you just have to sit back and be a martyr.  Watch the drama unfold.  Watch Trump get impeached. Watch square-headed Pence become president and reinstate the Nazi party.  Destroy another country and make billions rebuilding it.  Why must everything be "All Or Nothing?"  Whence does this philosophy come?  It is coming from foreign agents who are producing American television and popular music.  They are exploiting the youth of America to believe that howling on prime time television will make them stars.  It is the most perfect metaphor of how whitey can't dance.  The white man to no soul, no Mojo, no game.  They are all decked out in their spandex and rhinestones and gyrating all over the stage with absolutely no understanding of what they are doing.  Most dance originates with the courtship ritual, the mating ritual of a man and a woman.  There is scant evidence of any homosexual mating rituals except drag shows and Rocky Horror.  The hypocritical far right can't embrace that, but then those gay Catholic priests can sodomize child alter boys and go on smiling.  Truly America never has been more corrupt.  Booze.  Prostitution.  Gambling.  At least humanity knows what these vices are.  They are human.  They are a part of our nature.  Violating little boy's assholes in the sacristy is not.  It is scourge.  It is vile.  It is evil, just like Washington.  This country is not capable of protecting its youth from being devoured.  That is how much virtue we have, America.  What do we represent?  I'll ask again.  What the fuck do we represent?  Slave wages.  Slavery.  How did a country evolve, when it is too expensive for anyone to make a living?  When and how did things become so expensive?  It happened when those Wall Street traders decided they wanted a share.  America became the craft of moving money around.  No one was looking when all of the revenue-producing means disappeared across the ocean.  The rest of us were left stranded here in America, the desolate, vast, wasteland of poverty where small businesses are disdained, children are exploited and murdered, and the rich continue to get richer.  Gump handed corporate America a twelve percent profit with the stroke of a pen.  Nothing was said.  "We are being strangled by regulations."   That is what corporate America said.  What was done with that hefty profit?  GM announced on Cyber Monday they were going to shutter multiple plants terminating gainful employment for thousands of Americans.  Gump has lied about almost everything.  I have discovered that lying is the most far-reaching sin of all.  It creates the most havoc of anything.  Lies.  Lying.  Spinning the truth.  And that is our sitting American president.  Suck on that every day when you wake up.   

Rail Head is the Worst Head

I can't imagine who the twenty-three are who read my last post.  Often I write better when I am angry, and I have many reasons to be angry.  Read the news.  What news?   Depressing, poorly written, misleading, propaganda.  The Fayetteville Observer went on holiday vacation before Thanksgiving.  Tis not the season it seems to write anything relevant or factual.  Instead our American media needs to stoke the Black Friday/Cyber Monday fire.  America no longer has a Gross National Product.  We have nothing of value to sell.  Look at the port cities.  Nothing going out.  Cheap imports coming in.  My biggest sentiment, although it is difficult to create with a 1.5 Hz sound wave pummeling my body day in a day night.  I assume it is our illustrious military body returning from their crucial deployment down under.  Their two hundred million plus jog in the park to Texas to string up razor wire for those aggressive, drug-addicted, needy Hispanics fleeing drug gang violence in their respective countries.  America is no different, except for those who have entree.  Quickly we have become a nation of entree with the swearing in of Gump, who will become the most embarrassing American president.  It is difficult to muster the appropriate sentiment for the elder Bush, because in the back of everyone'e mind is the question, "Where is President Trump?"  "Why is he not officiating Bush senior's memorial services?"  Why is that square-headed, Nazi, Kotex Pence even at his services?  The tension was tangible, the worthless Washington insiders with their inability to feel a sincere emotion, required to run the gantlet in front of the Bush Clan.  What a photo opportunity!  A second generation Kennedy conglomeration, and those frail, fragile, toothless, spineless, Washington power brokers stumbling by.  It paints an accurate picture of what America no longer is.  We are not much of nuthin.'  If I felt music was worth two bits anymore, I would write a song.  I have written plenty of songs, instrumentals, vocals, orchestral works, big band numbers, and no one in my lifetime every will hear any of them.  KNKX doesn't play big band music for some reason.  They have developed as a radio entity, but still they do not play a large integral part of the jazz vernacular.  "We Ain't Much of Nuthin.'"  Most of the kids in America today do not even know who the elder Bush is.  The American oligarchy, the displaced Nazi's, the Fascist leftovers who covertly have purchased every tenant of the American economy and have been ruling our country.  They will destroy this earth.  They are the evil, and evil is real.  Never has it been more real for Americans.  We have lived through grievous loss.  Hundreds of thousands of American citizens died freeing our slaves, and Abraham Lincoln carried that wound to his grave.  Our G.I.'s slaughtered Charlie, gooks, Vietnamese, Koreans, Germans, and Japanese in defense of our nation in great wars.  Nothing is more real than now, when evil is ensconced firmly in Washington DC and corporate America and threatens to end this world.  "Make the world a better place than you left it."  It is a simple mantra that could serve our sick, dying, heartbroken, despondent, and apathetic populace.  They never got the memo, that the great America launched her most important campaign in history.  "Take advantage of the youthful generation!"  Instead of empowering them to take the reins, educating them in proper schools and with proper morals, take their money!  "TAKE THEIR MONEY!!!!!!!"  Destroy their minds.  Make them doubt their own sexuality.  Addict them to petty products.  Shield them from reality by re-writing history.  Create an army of droids who with nary a question, will do the bidding of these misplaced Fascists.  Welcome to America, the great America who refuses to protect her own young.  No longer will you be robbed and killed.  Instead you will be killed by yourself texting while driving.  Instead you will be killed murderously in your own school, what once was the safe haven of American society.  Now our youth are being slaughtered in movie theaters and in places of education, because they are more convenient.  Psychopathic killers are traveling to American churches to be forgiven by other parishioners for killing their friends and families.  "We can't carry that grudge."  "We can't continue to hate that boy for killing our people."  "How could we call ourselves Christians?"  Is this what God wants, for us to bow under and become martyrs for America, martyrs for a fallen empire filled with evil, with no opportunity, no promise, and no future, biding time until the sea spews flames, fireballs pummel the earth, and the human race is scorched into iniquity?  A country cannot survive without economic opportunity for its citizens.  America has transformed itself into a corrupt Socialist regime without the people even knowing.  We all are receiving entitlements, not working living wage jobs, and what we are receiving is nothing more than alms for the poor.  We have become slaves again.  When I look around at available wage-earning jobs, they are menial.  Sling hash.  Shovel shit.  Make pennies and work all day.  Slavery.  We are in slavery, and no one will say it.  They quietly, Mitch and the rest of them, are just waiting for the population to annihilate itself.  Tear itself apart.  Killing senselessly.  Addicted to drugs.  Psychotic so that we can't see reality, this reality,  America.  Gump.  We our not protecting our children.  We have failed at the most important task an evolved society can recognize.  We have abandoned and taken advantage of our own children.  America will not survive. 

Twerking the Gerkin

I don't feel like writing anything.  I am hungry.  Veggies were not enough for dinner.  The leader of our band skipped out of our two upcoming gigs.  Trump wasted 220 million taxpayer dollars sending American troops to the Mexican border in a midterm election publicity stunt.  The national is at a record-breaking high.  Television sucks, because like most valuable professions directing has been demeaned by the internet.  Like the former aesthetic of music, there is no such craft.  Use a webcam to shoot your show.  Import catalog music and foley effects from digital samples.  Use average everyday people as your actors.  The only thing of value by America is the iPhone.  The decline of the great civilization of America.  There is not one thing that represents our former glory.  Not one.  Trump is the metaphor.  Cheap con artist capitalism.  Like my compadre Larry Tutt says, "It's ethnic cleansing from within."  Kill off the population with poisoned food, alcohol, and tobacco.  Inflate the price of medication out of reach.  In due time the riffraff will disappear to the bottom.  Only the affluent will be left, and only one generation of them.  They do not care about tomorrow.  Only gluttony for today.  It is happening now what has been prophesied in the Bible.  The strongest storms, the most grievous events, the end of the world.  Best to get right with God.  He will be coming soon.  I tried to watch Buble, and although he can sing it was sickening.  If we did need to ethnically cleanse America start with that horrible gutter slang, that new version of ebonics that was made hip by Stax records.  Let's see how far we can distort the King's English in the name of being hip.  People so stupid that they do not know how stupid they are.  Buble, a Canadian, rapping in that ridiculous ghetto-speak.  If I were teaching today, no student of mine would utter a phrase of that worthless dribble in my classroom.  "Outside with your friends."  The fall of the great empire, America.  The sordid, the corrupt, the dishonest, the lying patron of an unguided narcotic gathering military stationed at Fort Hag.  Why else would we be in Afghanistan?  They did in during the Viet Nam War shipping drugs to the post in dead soldier's coffins.  Why not now?  Why not do it on a massive obvious scale?  We have no other GNP.  All the manufacturing has been outsourced to Coolies for pennies on the dollar.  We have polluted China and India for our own shallow gain.  Now Mexico and China are in Fayettenam playing revenge.  Gen X in our water.  A Mexican cartel running DAK Americas using Fayettenam as its railhead.  At least Cargill is an American company.  They could care less about the citizens of Fayettenam.  They let their ES44AC-H run 24/7, a standing wave in my bedroom.  When I sleep it is like two invisible superheros punching my body, my kidneys almost shaken from my abdomen.  Fort Bragg laughs as their high school drop out G.I's practice tying down fighting vehicles on flat cars in a tunnel.  Now they want a new tunnel under I-295 for the cost of two million, a fraction of the 229 million Trump spent to send troop to the Mexican border to try and get republican votes in the midterm election.  But (beginning a sentence with a conjunction) he is coming down.  I want a hamburger but WalMart and Harris Teeter no longer are open 24 hours a day.  That is a major inconvenience for Fayettenam.  No more shopping after midnight when the ghetto-speaking rats are away.  It's a shite state of affairs. 

Too Much Traction Action in "Da Ville"

     Thoughts on global warming and health.
     Hunter Harrison's revenue producing "Precision Railroading" is being implemented by CSX-T in America's "Spaghetti Bowl" creating delays for Amtrack and their own freight clients. 
     The Cape Fear Railroad at Fort Bragg is assembling underground munitions trains for Military Ocean Terminal Sunny Point.  This deep water port on the Cape Fear supplies American military bases abroad.
     The Aberdeen and Rockfish serves Hexion and Valley Proteins at River Terminal in Cumberland Country . 
     Progress Rail is rebuilding DC locomotives into AC's at their Huntington and Altoona plants in Pennsylvania.
     NS has invested in this rebuild program using EMD's two stroke, turbo charged, 645 diesel engine.  A rebuilt C40-9WAC produces enough electromagnetism to pull a two mile long fully loaded coal train.  It has inverters which produce the "Taos Hum" originally created by an underground molybdenum conveyor system designed by GE.   At low speed the inverters produce varying, low frequency, alternating current.  This AC and its accompanying magnetism turn the drives into oscillators propagating electromagnetic waves onto the electrical grid. Infrasound and a hampered grid hinder efficient air conditioning. 
     Siemens and ABB have introduced AC technology into industry, aviation, and marine with their "Azipods."  Azipods are mammoth AC drives housed in pods underneath the ocean's surface on large cruise ships  
     The combination of low frequency AC, magnetism, ultrasound, and infrasound are dangerous to humans causing cells to vibrate and mutate into cancer.  The cancer causing effect of electromagnetic waves has been studied and documented.

The Merry Prince of Thieves

So many things to express.  No one listening.  Only the goons who work for the railroads, uneducated mobsters who would rather kill a family than do the right thing.  “I’ve got to look our for my own!  There’s a depression on.”  Hurricane Florence renders almost a million North Carolinians without electrical power, and yet the trains tool on.  All day, all night, forever heating a storm-ravaged landscape, insult in the face of adversity.  No one knows.  No one cares.  We are without power, and yet which industry is most capable of providing power?  Which industry owns, leases, and operates thousands of ambulant generators used only for corporate gain?  These generators continue to operate while hundreds of thousands of citizens suffer without power.  A Class 5 hurricane pummels the Atlantic Seaboard, and yet portable, ambulant, reliable generators operate in anonymity hovering incognito near all of us.  Generators capable of providing power for all of us, and yet they don’t.  They operate for themselves.  They operate for their own corporate earnings, for their board members, their shareholders, and their CEO’s.  This is Capitalism.  Make it clear that a private corporation unwilling to help the masses in times of need.  It is clear.  They only want our money.  Who made this possible?  Deregulation of industry.  Now the rich, who were made rich from the lower and middle classes, continue to get rich while the middle and lower classes become extinct.  Now it is okay for industry to not give a corporate dump about the people, the customers who fill their pockets.  Like Wall Street Hedge Fund managers, they think earnings are magic.  This is Capitalism.  Take for the rich.  Disregard those who buy and consume their products.  Spit in the faces of Americans who created their lifestyles, their wealth, and their security.  Only a governing body with morality taught by God can administer a fair and honest America.  W. set the standard without even knowing it.  Regulation is stifling growth.  When we bailed out Wall Street corporate bonuses were given to CEO’s for their responsible leadership.  Will any of the twelve percent of federal corporate tax be invested back into the middle or lower classes?  Will small business loans become available again?  Will college students be given financial rewards for their scholarly excellence?  The answer is no.  W. set the course.  Deregulation.  Let the corporate top feeders skim all of the excess capital for themselves.  The rest of us are just immigrating wet backs.  Illegal aliens.  Spics.  Japs.  Kikes.  Krouts.  White trash.  Let’s reestablish the KKK, ethnically cleanse America, and exert the Arion nation.  The rest of us?  The middle class, the tired, the poor, the huddled masses yearning to breathe free?  Electrocute us with ambulant, self-serving, hovering generators who in the face of Earth’s warming, burn us into smoldering ash.  The rage against the machines.  It is true.  It is here, and they are being run by Uncle Homer and his inbred son, Stitch. 

The Great American Storm.

Maybe it is because I was lucky enough to travel abroad.  she was pretty happy about it, the broad that is.  All kidding aside, you never can go home, and yet I did.  The Pepsi Challenge.  Nothing is the same, except everything.  What is the same?  Certainly not your home town.  Everything in America today is, "Growth, growth, growth."  Screw growth.  How about just a well adjusted, mature, intelligent, semi-conservative, forward thinking community.  Ah heck.  We're not.  Not today's America.  Let's think back for a moment.  When did it all begin, as the song says?  It began after Bill.  Bill created today, now, America today.  The cell phone economy, the economy that hooked our youth on toys and took their college money.  We denied them adequate education and took their money.  Maggie Newland.  Storm Tracker.  We began selling kids high tech toys instead of their parents, because their parents were still intelligent enough to know better.  What a cavernous disparity between the Depression Era, the Babe Boomers, Generation X (slackers) and Millennials.  As I sit here and wait for the impending doom of the great storm, the thing that it creates it is in full swing, unfettered, collecting money for the rich who own them.  That is America in a nutshell.  There is no room for a middle class.  The poor will annihilate themselves after they spend all of the American entitlements.  When Matthew hammered through and wiped out the railroad tracks to Fort Bragg, nothing stopped.  The thing that creates the heat and thus the great ensuing storms never stopped.  PET resin must be manufactured, because Americans drink more beverages when?  During the blazing hot humid weeks of summer.  How do you make soybean oil?  Heat it to 190 degrees.  Where is the plant?  I am tired of my ears ringing.  I am tired of my belly hurting.  I am tired of sciatic nerve pain while I am lying in my vibrating bed rife with low frequency alternating current, magnetism, and heat.  I can't wait for the rain to quell what is causing the storm, and yet it doesn't.  Only snow does that.  Only that freezing, calm, slowly-falling snow curbs the activity that is creating some of global warming.  It is bliss.  Snow, and not cocaine.  Blissful snow that coats the environment in freezing flakes of pristine, microdust filled water.  I can't remember my original premise of which I was going to write.  What a pale polluted shadow America is of herself thanks to Wall Street.  Wall Street is only a gambling casino, but brokers are gambling with America's money, well rich America.  If Weinstein, Monves, Charlie, Cosby and the rest of perverted sex problems, no one says anything about the huge gambling problem in America.  It is called Wall Street, the former New Orleans but without the fine jazz and willing prostitutes.  They are willing in New York, but only rich bankers can afford them.  So here we sit. 

Cell Phone Extinction

I reckon I should improve my typing skills quick.  I have a new chair, and it is comfortable, more comfortable than the glide rocker.  It was comfortable too, but it began to cause my back trouble.  Out with the old, in with the new, new old, for $15.00, a new chair.  It reclines.  If I don't write for a while the mainstream media loses track of reality, so here I am.  Not much to say.  No music coming out at all.  Keep on trucking.  Let's start with Bill Clinton.  There would be no cell phone industry if it were not for Bill Clinton.  The FCC said, "These frequencies are dangerous."  Bill said, "We need to balance the budget."  One and done.  Auction those frequencies to future cell phone companies.  Bill created now.  He created today.  Bill Clinton created the vast void of neanderthals walking around staring at their palms.  I can think of other more productive things to do with my palms.  So can a bunch of Catholic priests.  They still are working, and the irrevocable implications of their homosexual sexual abuse will continue to torment millennials for years to come.  Thanks, Padre!  Now we have a heated planet.  The fingers wags all over the place.  I propose an oxygen tax, not a carbon tax.  Each vehicle which uses great amounts of our oxygen should pay for it.  They should pay for it, because they burn it for their own empowering energy and spews hyrdocarbons as a thank you.  Airline industry.  Rail industry.  They consume massive amounts of our what should be clean air for their own profit, and spew carbon back into the air.  How?  Why?  Not fair, but America is not fair.  Trump lives from this premise.  God teaches morality.  We have none, except it seems a senior White House official who claims to tell what we all ready have known.  I.?  Then Pence is the Prez.  Nazi.  The last heat wave we had was in early Spring.  It was created by a huge military operation at Fort Bragg.  Hundreds of vehicles assembled in the sake of national defense.  The budding foliage didn't know what to do.  We have our second heat wave, and nary a story about military operations in the Atlantic, Sunny Point Military Ocean Terminal, or in Germany.  The 82nd Airborne returned recently and drones from Camp Mackall fly over Fayetteville.  For two weeks straight beginning last Sunday, a discernible wave has been in the air.  People are dying.  Dropping like flies.  I feel like hammered shit, and that is after I quick imbibing alcohol.  I can't figure out whence it comes other than the illustrious Fort Hag.  The Honeycutt Marshalling Yard and their underground mainline transecting the base unloading munitions nonstop.  It creates havoc in my home.  The electricity is tangible, and I don't think it is static.  I think it is alternating current, low frequency alternating current.  Studies show, survey says 1 Hz of alternating current causes increased calcium in cells.  I have a kidney stone.  Whence did it come.  We have all kinds of strange electrical phenomenon in our home.  Static electricity.  Radar, a standing electromagnetic wave.  What is that?  Bueller?  A duality.  A reciprocating wave consisting of electricity and magnetism.  Catchy name, huh?  Electricity one one axis, magnetism on the other.  It is hot and it vibrates.  Human cells do not like this, and they mutate into cancer.  We have know this as a nation for a long time.  Nada.  Do nothing.  People dying.  Flu like symptoms.  Air quality approaching Asia.  Let's kill off our people, the poor, the hungry, the oppressed.  What better way to forge the Trump oligarchy?  Kill people from within our nation.  The terrorism?  It is ludicrous.  Towel heads trying to get to Allah.  Virgins.  Sinn Fein knew the drill.  Why kill innocent Americans working in an office building?  For spectacle.  For ego.  Sociopathic indulgence.  If you are going to assassinate someone, pick a person who has some influence.  Pick someone who is doing wrong to the country.  Get in line.  There are thousands of them, and yet nada.  This generation is so brainwashed on kiddie television, Netflicks, and their iPhones they wouldn't know how to murder a criminal.  That is a little to heavy for now.  What?  Turn on the tube.  Violence.  Zombies.  Murder.  War.  That is all TV is, and yet it all is meaningless, empty, shallow diversionary propaganda.  Pollute the minds of our youth.  Trump is the master.  Turn the masses on each other.  The Grandmaster Flash.  Agent Orange.  Beelzebub.  We are so confused, so unsure of who the enemy is.  Try Bill Clinton.  I had a nice time under Bill.  That's what she said.  He did a few good things, but the bad out weigh the good.  Cell phones heating the planet.  Word. 

Dear Editor,

      Recent statistics reveal Cumberland Country has sanctioned "Fayetteville Flight."  Our county is a no growth zone.  Why?  Several solutions are a stratagem for more peaceful living.  It entails conscientious, continual, and conservative restraint by our military industrial complex.  1.  Mr. Snoopy Dog FBI shell plane or Army Cessna must concentrate their surveillance away from neighborhoods.  2.  The Compass Call Cross Deck Tactical Weapons System must keep it in his pants.  3.  CSX-T must reel in their meandering Cargill dedicated ES44ACH.  (It's discernible low frequency alternating current "Death Ray" is a drag)  Please stop irradiating Fayetteville or at least schedule a heavy weight bout with the Army's AN/TPQ-53.  (I can't tell if its an inebriated locomotive engineer or an overzealous private with his finger on the button.)  If either one needs companionship, I suggest Match.com.  Because satellite sensor arrays, drone activity, and adolescent iPhone usage are interacting, their EMFs are twerking us like our original founding Shakers and Quakers.  Our power grid and visible light spectrum are tired of being modulated by these parasites.  "Fayetteville:  A Modulus-Free Zone." 

One's Own Destructive Behaviors

There are the times when the stars and military satellites align and open a corridor to hell.  This is when I relive almost all of my trying moments in my dreams.  These are moments during your job that create tension, because of other people.  While I don't have the right to paint myself as a saint, I have had a Christian upbringing.  I do have a value system, and I am honest.  The only time I have learned to tell a white lie is when I recognize my answer is going to cause unnecessary strife.  To thwart ensuing unwanted drama and angst I upon a short reflection lie.  "Paul, did you eat the last of the ice cream?"  "Yes."  In reality to keep the freezer uncluttered, and because two gallon drums of ice cream won't fit in the same space, I throw out the last small serving of yellowed frost-covered cream.  "Yes, I ate it."  End of story.  This is learned behavior, and I do not like having to lie.  This is the only time I lie.  I am brutally honest the rest of the time, and often my honesty creates tension with lesser experienced musicians, stage technicians, and musical directors.  In the process of working as a professional musician, I have learned not to lie, but when to lie down.  I have learned what fights to champion, and which to concede momentary defeat for the same reasons.  It thwarts unwanted drama, which is a huge waste of energy.  Your energy should be used for productive and creative purposes.  Always.  Basking in your own self deprecating behavior is a path to your grave and unhappiness.  You get up, shelf the recurring strife driven dreams, and create something anew in the midst of your non supportive environment.  This is what successful and intelligent people do.  This morning my recurring toil and turmoil was Tony.  Tony was the musical director on a ship to which I did not want to go.  My instincts about ships and musical directors are honed.  Always I am right, and I am a saint.  In this situation I needed a job, and a demotion was the path.  Usually I can handle most hostile work environments with learned political cunning.  Then I learned there are unworkable job environments that for personal reasons are not there to support your quality effort.  These environments employ insecure and often unskilled personnel.  When a work place is populated with these kinds of people, life for the skilled and talented folk often is unpleasant.  You can't do your best.  You can't create art to say the least.  You often can't even raise the bar of mediocrity.  You suffer, and you get out as quickly as possible.  What kinds of environments exist which do not support their workers?  I would say the Blohmberg of the Knees.  This was not a good working environment.  I don't even want to remember it, but I am being instructed by my  unsupportive environment to grovel in this horse manure.  I am being instructed not to excel, not to be productive, and not to be happy.  I am being forced to reflect upon my challenges which created unhappiness for me.  Hurray.  Unhappiness as a doctrine, kind of like Communism or even Fascism.  The life of a slave.  No freedom.  No free will, only penance for being unworthy in someone's eyes.  How can a musical environment be unsupportive?  Well if I must reflect back to times of strife, you can get a gig on a barge where they are so set in their ways, they are not interested in a new interpretation of the established music.  The gig has been played the same way for years.  Why change it now?  Why question the repertoire?  Why not just make the musical director the star he wants to be in the eyes of the guests?  Why contribute to the production show?  Why learn the music.  Instead only lip sync or fake playing the notes on the piano.  Certainly they did that on the Shendor.  Two of the working bands who had sparse hours, the keyboard players didn't play.  They faked their playing along with prerecorded MIDI tracks.  They did not do their jobs.  They masqueraded doing their jobs, and on this vessel that was what was demanded.  "Stand down, comrade!  You didn't really think you were going to get to play your instrument, did you.  Are you going to cry?"  I have two particular feelings about this behavior.  One it is fascist.  Strike one.  Neo-Nazi Hitler genocide.  Two it is gay in the most despicable way possible.  I am not a homophobe, but unlike the rosy pictured painted by LGBT proponents, not every gay person is happy, well adjusted, and content.  Often, and I have found more often they are hateful, self-absorbed, unChristian assholes.  It may not be surprising that an unsupportive musical work environment is cluttered with these types of people.  On this tug boat there are two I can recall.  Both were women, and both were gay.  They out of their own boxes were man haters, and I mean prescripted, hard wired, dogmatically man haters.  It didn't matter what you did, they were going to hate you with a vengeance.  This was their program.  This was their philosophy.  This was how they justified their on short comings and weaknesses.  They dog you, make it inpossible for you to be able simple to do your job, much less excel.  There you have it.  I had a dumb cunt man hater stage technician refuse to bring me a music stand for talent show rehearsal.  This was her job, but she refused for some reason.  I had to call our musical director, and he brought me the stand.  Of course he made me feel like an idiot for making him come bring me the stand.  It was her job.  I guess she wanted me to do it.  Then there was no bench upon which to sit to play the keyboard, no light, and no amplifier.  "Pull it out of your ass, Paul!"  Music is just magic anyway.  Just riff.  Riff it.  Then there was the Magistrate of the Bees, and Jesus Christ reported you to the office for sitting out large swaths of the production show.  There was no music for these sections in the keyboard book.  Just riff.  Make it up.  It was his responsibility as musical director to see to it that music was provided for the players in the orchestra.  That was his job, and yet he chose not to do it.  Instead he whined like a little baby and created animus in the work environment.  It is so easy as a manager to solve problems and avoid personal arguments, but like I have been writing there is a faction of folk who enjoy this filth.  These are the people that never will succeed in the world.  They may kiss ass long enough to get by for a while, but eventually destructive behavior (Trump) will be the death of them.   

What Sex Am I?

My father died a year ago May 6th.  It has been over a year since his passing, and although we have grieved his death I must move on.  That is if those of us remaining want to stay in the running.  So many people in America are tossing in the cloth, and I don't mean Catholic priests.  Easily it is forgotten these priests were practicing Jerry Sandusky's moves with their own alter boys.  If one reflects upon the psychological health of America, we find a dismal remnant of our former glory.  It is disgusting.  The reasons are varied, but mostly it is because of the risen oligarchy.  The rich grabbed the reins and galloped America to hell.  Even candidly as I remember my Episcopal upbringing and education from the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill (also a remnant of its former glory), and even as I try to live a positive, moral, and ethical life, I realize the majority of America is evil.  Evil is a strong word, so I will rephrase.  The majority of America, because of the lure of capitalism, are not honest or fair to their fellow men.  Capitalism is  being ruthless, getting as much as you can, canning it, and sitting on that can.  We have been pulled down the sewer by Harvey Weinstein, Bill Cosby, and the rest because of the simple weakness of sexual impropriety.  When did it become probable that wealth earns you sexual satisfaction?  My friends it is the oldest profession for a reason, and always you will have to pay for it one way or another.  These ridiculous men, who have been incredibly influential in American culture, believe that notoriety and power earn you the right to behave as a sexual predator.  I can think of nothing more adolescent.  I have learned over the last year  many people I admire behave as immature irrational children.  I have learned to separate my admiration for their intelligence and art.  Often they are mislead, selfish, and narcissistic.  This after all is how one gets ahead in a Capitalist socioeconomic system.  One must kiss ass, take it up the ass, break the law, and abandon moral and ethical standards to become wealthy in America.  I have forgotten this, how to be ruthless.  I'm not sure it ever was a part of my vocabulary.  I was taught to be nice, and that means telling the truth, respecting your neighbors, and trying to abide by  ten commandments.  That is difficult, because America evidently no longer is a Christian nation.  Every tangible cultural ritual that has shored up America over its relatively short life has been destroyed.  Simply it is Orwellian.  George was right.  Big Brother has taken over America, and now we know how.  Communism never has ceased to be the enemy of the United States.  Ronnie did tear down that wall, and it fell in Berlin, but Communism staunchly has stayed around.  Now an ex KGB operative with a cunning knowledge of statesmanship has sanctioned the America President.  It couldn't be more obvious, and the entire country is figiting in  disbelief.  It is the only way he could have won the American presidency, and this will decide honest democracy will continue in America.  With this transformation into a Communist state, the rights and quality of life of the middle and lower classes has faltered as has their economic mobility.  To be happy in America today one must be rich.  You must buy your happiness, because the things that once provided have been sacrificed for the wealth of this risen oligarchy.  Clean air, clean water, and an electricity-free atomsphere have become a distant memory.  Our air, which is necessary for human survival, is wrought with aberrant electricity.  Every sense in the human body is being bombarded with manipulative murderous electricity.  Why else would there be no hope for the majority of people who choose suicide?  How can one change wrong on such a global level?   This influence is so far-reaching, so massive in volume, and so unrecognized and misunderstood from effective lobbying, why stick around?  You really have to want it, to continue to live.  Yes, our original immigrating founding fathers had a tough time too.  The Lost Colony didn't make it.  It takes money.  In America now, unlike its original existence providing sustenance for native Americans, we must buy our own survival.  We must buy water.  We must buy clean air.  We must buy happiness, because our earth has been turned into a huge dump.  The world landfill full of the oligarchies' trappings coercing, stealing, and manipulating their way to financial prominence with a blatant and alarming disregard for the health of our Earth.  Truly we must be in the the last days, when each and every day is a fight for our own survival against the established infrastructure meant to support us.  Wages are stagnant, and they will continue to be except for the upper class.  Each time our government raises prices for utilities, insurance, or medical care we get poorer.  Each time a cable company, a cellular carrier, or an insurance company raises their rates, Americans are pushed further into poverty.  Further into poverty we will go until Americans see it and disagree.  A probable revolution.  Poverty is one thing, but the invasion of your psychological sanctity?  Big Brother.  As I am sitting right here right now listening to my new Teac turntable, the needle inexplicably is skipping.  It is of no consequence that it sits on a huge antique bureau atop a hardwood floor on the second floor of our house.  How is it possible that anything could disrupt the stylus on that weighted tonearm?  That is because it is being disrupted through the air by sound waves, massive, long wave length, low frequency sound waves created by General Electric.  It is fitting this one hundred year old company is failing.  Aside from their assault on our mental health through massive pollution, I am mystified by the assault on my humanity.  Is it really American to have to defend one's sexuality?  Never before has this been a public issue.  Never before did being gay become a platform for notoriety.  Tell Bruce that transforming yourself into a woman during your late life crisis doesn't change the reality of who you have become.  You still are a burnt out athlete like many who have trouble reinventing themselves during old age.  You are just a burnt out fag who likes to dress up in women's clothing.  I have nothing against homosexuality.  Like Queen Latifah says in the film "Living Out Loud," homosexual men possibly feel more than straight men.  Often they are more gentle.  As such it is possible they have more of an affinity for the expressive arts than straight men.  Cole Porter.  Pyotr Tchaikovsky.  Leonard Bernstein.  Aaron Copland.  Who really cares what their sexual preference is?  It didn't dominate their lives, their homosexuality.  Often they prefer BOTH sexes.  What bothers me is that because I am single, because I have not bought into the marriage sacriment, I must defend my heterosexuality.  It seems because I am not having it reinforced visually daily by a worker, another person responsible for showing the world that I am straight, that I must assert my heterosexuality in a much more powerful way.  Was this what God intended?  Is this why I am supposed to get married, to keep away the gay men?  When I do indulge in my own heterosexuality by allowing myself to remember that there is an innate biological nature that provides this for me, I feel challenged by the norm in American society.  Truly the LGBT movement has made great strides, undermining the human psyche, the ID, and our animal instincts.  Throughout time they have been extremely comforting in times of duress, when we are so heavy laden that allowing God to step in provide comfort is welcome.  It is the nature of God's love, and yet today we no longer have this comfort.  We must doubt our own biological nature.  We have taught our children to be vain, narcissistic, and juvenile.  They have been immune from any school of hard knocks that built America.  Get in line Bruce. P.S.  Not to mention that FB sold out in a microsecond to Russian mob interests to make their fortune.  Is it possible to say, "I'm sorry" for selling out the American people? 

Ten Telltale Signs Your Nation Has Regressed Back to the Plantation

1.  When shareholder dividends take precedence over workers rights and salaries.

2.  When the United States Military is used internationally as a private security force to enforce corporate earnings.  

3.  When the war economy usurps the desires of the middle and lower classes.  

4.  When the majority of the Gross National Product is shelved in tax sheltered foreign banks stifling economic mobility rather than circulating in the American economy.  

5.  When failing United States corporations coerce clients at the expense of public health safety.  

6.  When bigoted, cavalier, inexperienced law enforcement officers abuse and murder innocent civilians.  

7.  When corrupt lawmakers manage the Federal Government. 

8.  When the Supreme Court becomes bought and paid for.  

9.  When the arts become impotent, insignificant, and manipulative.

10.   When the media becomes an entity of the state.

A Short Story

It is not often that I have nightmares, but when I do they are unrelentingly lucid. It is as if I am living a surreal, threateningly suspenseful, parallel life that should be a novel.  My job is to resolve the issue, integrate with the indigenous population, and survive.  It is not rocket science.  It is just life, life in Fayettenam.   Several times I was expeditious enough to write them down.  A recurring theme in these lucid dreams is duping local yokels, and I don't mean duping in the sense of pulling the wool over their eyes.  I mean excavating a foundation for you own life in the midst of a local controlling faction that in all probability never has traveled to another place.  This doesn't necessarily mean hillbilly.  There are plenty of intelligent local yokels about.  Most of them have money, and hence they have influence on local politics.  In my dreams it is made clear to me after a lifelong pursuit of personal fulfillment that a small group of affluent men control most things.  Often they are bisexual.  Often they want to have sex with your, or at least they are intrigued by your rebel presence, want to sample those goods, or feel privileged enough to be able to have sex with you if they want to.  They after all are in control.  I am able to thwart these men for the most part with college-bred sensibility.  It is called intelligence.  Luckily I was reared in a God-fearing family with Christian values and manners.  I have no real need to commit crimes, lie, cheat, or steal, because I have learned through education that these iniquities in the long run will cause you distress.  I have an instinctual feeling that the FBI is trying to dig up dirt on me.  It may or may not have something to do with the Gulfstream jet which frequently flies over the top of our home.  This is no coincidence.  I have written about Leon Panetta's CIA jet before.  These organizations don't have much else to do but fly around America spending the taxpayer's dollars.  This is no delusion of grandeur.  This is no psychotic hallucination.  Within five minutes of exiting my house to water the garden, no matter what time of day, this jet appears flying directly over the top of our yard.  That is an example of clockwork.  I walk outside to water the garden, and this Gulfstream jet appears.  I must be really special, a real threat, or else the CIA takes pointers from my gardening skills.  I have a nice tomato patch.  I am getting tired of flipping the plane the bird.  I guess they are tired of seeing me flip them the bird.  Better yet they have nothing better to do than waste the taxpayers dollars.  L3 Communications has their own dollars, and yet also they come from the American taxpayer.  They are one of the largest defense contractors in America, hence their money comes from a private contract awarded by the President.  Often not upon are they bid.  Who cares?  Their jet wash is a small percentage of the dross that pollutes Cumberland Country.  Dig as they may, there are very few skeletons to be found in my closets.  I never have had sex with a child or another man, although I have slept with another man's wife.  Only was it with their consent.   Never have I buried dead bodies, although I dreamt of it least night.  Of one of the many apartments I rented in Columbus, somehow I made my way back.  There were the seams in the floor above where I had dug shallow graves to hold the dead bodies.  Somehow that group of Ohio oligarchs got it in their mind that I had taken their satchel full of money.  John Freeman and I had been joyriding on those winding roads north of Columbus.  I had been going to fast and my Toyota Tercel unibody wagon flew off the road and into a tree.  The next thing I remember is waking up in Duke University Hospital a year later with my wounds healed.  There was a slight scar on my neck, but all-in-all I was whole.  Completely recovered but with no memory of the accident.  The statute of limitations had passed as years passed, and the whereabouts of the satchel of money became a legend.  Still those bisexual men in Columbus somehow thought I knew where it was.  I thwarted them, and they didn't mind. 

Great Classical Music

In no specific order the music I have enjoyed on WCPE and purchased online in the last two years:

Saint-Saens-  String Quartets 1&2

Shostakovich- Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk

Mozart- Die Entfuhrung Aus Dem Serail

Brahms- Serenade No. 1

Bach for Brass- Laubin Brass Ensemble

Handel- Concerto Grossi Op. 3, Les Musiciens Du Louvre

Sephartic Journey- The Cavatina Duo

A Christmas Flourish- Hannaford Street Silver Band

But Not Forgotten- Music by African-American Composers
     for Clarinet and Piano

Dvorak- American String Quartet, Emerson String Quartet

CBS Masterworks Dinner Classics, The Christmas Album

Voices of Light- Richard Einhorn

EMI Classics- The French Album, Perlman Edition

Cameron Carpenter- All You Need is Bach

Wynton Marsali- Carnaval, Eastman Wind Ensemble

Albert Hurwit- Symphony No. 1 "Remembrance"

Aaron Copland- Quiet City

Repast Baroque Ensemble- Carolus Hacquart

Rebel- Violin Sonatas

Chopin Nocturnes- Earl Wild

Finzi Clarinet Concerto- Richard Stolzman

Rimsky-Korsakov- Night on Mount Triglav

In the Arms of the Beloved- The Music of Richard Daneilpour

Cello Concerto- Edward Elgar. Yo Yo Ma. Andre Previn

Cesar Franck- Psyche, Ravel- Rapsodie Espagnole, Debussy- Danse Sacree et Profane

Richard Strauss- Wind Concertos (oboe)

Hayden Symphony No. 6- The Hanover Band

Tchaikovsky, Prokofiev, Bartok, Piano Concertos- Emil Gilets

I Got No Kick Against Modern Jazz, She's Leaving Home- McKoy Tyner

Michael Brecker- Ballad Book

Bob Marley- Talking Blues

Bravo Brubeck

Bob Florence- Another Side Quartet

Sountrack from "The Russia House"

Soundtrack from "Leaving Las Vegas"



 

Touche of Medusa

Mrs. Beezleworth slid her petticoat down her thighs and stepped out of them.  The smell of burning rose wax permeated the evening air and a gentle breeze made the candle's flame flicker.  She kicked the undergarment out from under her hosed feet and slid her fingers under the waistband of her panty hose.  Panty hose and a petticoat?  It takes much vintage clothing to make a harlot she thought to herself.  Is a role on Broadway so important?  Yes.  She rolled down her hose until she was wearing nothing but her high waisted cotton granny panties.  These are so sexy she thought.  (But they are comfortable, especially when running about onstage.)  "You could carry your lunch in those," Dannon exclaimed from behind her dressing curtain.  "That's not all I carry, Love."  "Show me, Ms Moneypenny."  "I will."  Dannon slid from behind the curtain and crawled naked into her bed.  "Naked," he said.  "Yes dear, I know.  Give me a minute."  She exited into the bathroom and returned minutes later her face covered in cold cream and wearing her dressing gown."  "I'm a picture, huh?"  "Yes, he said."   She dropped her robe and like a heathen goddess made her way to the bed."  "If I didn't know better, darling, you could be Medusa."  "Medusa with the best mouth on Broadway."  "Touche."

Rex Tillerson Former Secretary of State

Professor Tillerson left his office early that night still reeling from the humiliation of being fired by a presidential tweet.  His head down making a beeline for his Ford sedan, he drove home and phoned Exxon/Mobile.  "Dan?  This is Rex.  Raise oil prices.  I don't care how you do it.  Frame it spring demand."  "Yes sir."  Tillerson hung up the phone and walked over to his antique bar, poured himself a Scotch, and sat down in his leather recliner.  His humidor in reach, he opened the box and took out a sublime Havana cigar and fired it up.  "Mr. Tillerson?"  "Yes, Sabrina."  "President Trump is on the line."  "Tell him I am busy."   

A Short Story About the Vanstory Hobo

Like most newsworthy, spongeworthy, James Worthy events, the departure of L3 from their portal located behind the Fayetteville Harris Teeter was innocuous.  For a decade the barricaded DOD building in close proximity to L3's transmission station operated in anonymity.  An Arms Room managing and planning weapons distribution for the United States Army completed its tasks under the close surveillance of two Beechcraft King Air 350 planes making lazy circles in the sky.  Unfortunately the location of the DOD compound and its accompanying L3 communications pod bordered the Vanstory Hills neighborhood including its elementary school.  The combination of high profile spoiled brats, a local flasher, and million dollar surveillance aircraft fused to create a local legend, the "Vanstory Hobo."  He often was seen climbing trees, building shelter out of vines, and otherwise ignoring recalcitrant rich children.  His steadfast animosity infuriated the children, and they concocted an urban legend who ate human flesh, terrorized rabbits, and had sex with neighborhood canine.  The DOD became fearful of the urban legend and that with his newly found powers may penetrate the walls of the DOD building and steal information for release on Wikileaks.  After months of endless fear and trepidation, the DOD decided to move their facility to a more secure location.  L3 followed although their Gulfstream jet often can be seen flying over Fayetteville as many as four times a day.  Legend has it they still are looking for the Vanstory Hobo as their mundane jobs crunching statistics for General Mattis become tiring.  It has been heard the Vanstory Hobo recently resurfaced planting a viable vegetable garden, planting herbs, and playing classical music outside. 

Fayetteville's Shit on a Shingle

There can be no greater erroneous supposition that usurps the active cognition that pizza in the south is more than doughy mush covered in menstrual fluid.  In fact that would be more tasty and more appealing.  Then again if menstrual blood on a bun were to become popular as a foodstuff, the General Assembly of North Carolina would want to control it.  They probably do, and that is why Papa John, Dominoes, and Marco's all agree upon serving the same revolting combination of wet diapers, scrotum cheese, and menstrual blood.  I guess if you have eighteen dollars, haven't eaten in three weeks, and are a Zombie then that recipe is for you.  Welcome to Fayettenam.  After capitalizing on Little Ceasar's five dollar pepperoni hot and ready for over a year, it was time for a different flavor.  Three strikes and your out, of pizza forever.  Two strikes here, and both are insulting enough to tell you straight to your face that the three dollar "delivery" fee does not go to the driver.  Why are we paying a fee for delivery if it does not do to the delivery person?  This is the Conditions of America it her best.  As Eric Cartman would say, "Send down the lubrication guy, because I liked to get lubed before I get @#$%3ed."  That is pretty bold.  We will deliver a putrid, waxy, nauseating, pile of dung on a wet shingle to your door covered in menstrual blood, and charge your three dollars more that by the way, "Doesn't go to your driver!"  He is free to harass you about the three dollars he doesn't see from the pizza sale.  I have no doubt they are instructed to tell you that they get none of the three dollars listed as a delivery fee.  In the future, as I look at the lovely images of deformed children begging for money on SONYHD, adamantly and with fervor I will not give the driver a tip.  You need to negotiate that with your employer.  Instead they condone the harassing of customers by irate poor pizza delivery droids.  I guess once again I am behind the curve.  I am down on the lip of the bell curve.  Slow.  Behind the times.  We don't order pizza, and know I know why we no longer order pizza.  Like everything else now I must create my own self made pizza.  No problem.  My tacos are better than any tacos in Fayettenam.  It doesn't take much.  Fresh ingredients.  A little effort.  In the pizza war (and I am resisting the urge to down a half bottle of hard liquor to forget my troubles) the South is askew.  I have visited the birthplace of Pizza, and that pizza wasn't much.  They raved about it, mostly because they were eating it at the birthplace of pizza.  It is the Italian port city with canals.  Venice.  "Ah, Bach!"  Venice was a toilet bowl, and its cobblestones hurt my feet.  I do wish I had appreciated the sculpture and architecture of Italy more.  The pizza was awful, but not as bad as the pizza in Fayettenam.  A wet diaper covered in menstrual blood.  A five hundred degree pizza stone will cook a pizza in a few minutes.  That is the trick, and a wood or coal fired brick oven is best.  The crust should be thin and crackly, crackly like a cracker, a mulatto cracker, white with black spots.  It could be New Orleans pizza.  The thick, coating, heart stopping fake cheese is naught.  That was Papa John's tonight.  A wet diaper covered in a waxy film of fake cheese covered in menstrual blood.  Here we are in Fayettenam, a Zombie-infested irradiated toilet bowl of chemicals in Cape Fear swamp water, and people are dying in droves.  If I were not sick and tired, it would motivate me to grow as a person.  Fayettenam is good at killing.  Any town with any High School that has a group called "Remembering Our Lost Friends....."  Dead people.  Our dead people.  People who die way before their times.  Up Jacksonville way, Camp Lejune once cleaned all of their war machines with powerful solvents and dumped them on the ground.  Those solvents made their way down into the local water table, and people started dying.  Birth defects.  Cancer.  Death.  It went on quite some time before it was settled.  Take a look at Fort Bragg.  A tributary of the Cape Fear River runs directly along the top border of Fort Bragg.  It is a stones throw from Pope Field.  Often I have wondered if they take or dump into that tributary.  As human beings we never have been able to drink the water.  First it was duck poop.  Then beer was discovered and solved this problem.  Since then we have been drinking beverages other than water for good reason.  The only thing I do with Cape Fear swamp water is bathe, and I keep it on my body for the shortest time possible.  For cooking and drinking I have been using good quality Florida aquifer water for a few years.  Spring water.  Not purified water.  Not twice distilled, backwardly osmosed, doubly filtered horse piss.  Water distributors like Nestle can purify tap water and demand you tip their delivery people because they don't see a penny of the delivery fee.  This is America. 

The Demise of Main Stream Capitalism

America deeply is ensconced in the bowels of evil.  The putrid feces of jive is swirling so thickly around us it is difficult to see the surface.  I am just below it, the sunlight an opaque hue that mocks and angers me.  There only is so much one can do.  Rage against the machine?  

American Motive Stepford Wives

New Christine is the ES44AC.  Old Christine is the Dash 9.  New Christine is Old Christine equipped with an extended auxiliary electronics cab housing her inverter stacks.  New Christine used the GEVO temporarily as required by the EPA but then reverted back to the 7FDL-16 making New Christine old fat Christine on steroids.  Neither Christine would be possible without Hewlett Packard.  New Christine would not be possible without Nikola Tesla.  New Christine defies the traditional practices of alternating current and slows down its gait into the ELF range.  Technically while not creating low frequency electromagnetic waves, New Christine instead creates ambient transient alternating current in the low frequency range.  While it is not well known this unbridled Tesla-created energy manifests itself on our daily lives, most often in our local power grids.  Christine and her cousins can be heard creating the Taos Hum.  The Norfolk and Southern commissioned all of the Old Christines and currently with GE are transitioning all into New Christines.  Like Stepford Wives created on an assembly line by American Motive Power, Inc. in Dansville, New York, more fat Old Christines on steroids are emerging.  Do you know what happened to the Stepford Wives?  They were idealistic until a fatal feasibility study.  Harvey, Charlie, Matt, and Bill all fell from grace for eating their own cake.  AC Traction has eaten enough of American's lives.  

It doesn't seem to matter.  The power structure of America has grown so askew, man has become but a speck of dust.  Cumberland Country is the only county in North Carolina which did not add population.  Urban sprawl has become prolific, and the situation is the perfect metaphor for the collapse of America.  I won't go as far as to say as Capitalism has collapsed.  It has not, but the socioeconomic system of America, mainstream America, the America most of us know and grew up in, has failed.  That is because there is no mainstream.  There is nothing binding together the American masses.  How can a country, much less a state, a city, a county, or a town exist with no commonality?  Commonality is the backbone of civilization, and we have forgotten this.  Thus we have no art.  We have nothing.  We have the rich and the poor, and sadly America has become a third world country.  It was inevitable.  Our middle class is forgotten, integrity no longer is an asset, and ingenuity no longer is rewarded in wage.  We have become a slave labor force, and we are paid to shut up.  "Be silent, be still.  Be silent, be still."  Laney Boggs.  It is disgusting.  I live in this country, and there is nothing before me that suggests anything of value.  Contrarily America is a maelstrom of anarchy, chaos, and destruction.  I have a theory about this decline of America, and directly it is related to the decline of mainstream Capitalism.  Again I will not say that Capitalism has failed.  It has not.  It has created for the rich, and these rich have forgotten with their billions that although they can continue to live on these billions, the longevity of America is reliant upon cooperation and a common ideal.  Therefore today's rich in no way care about America now or her future.  They are shallow opportunists and are doing what Republicans always have done.  Get what you can, can it and sit on the can.  America's can is overseas, in Geneva, and in Grand Cayman.  Until that money is freed up and invested back in America, we will continue to spiral downward back to the slave society as we began.  This too is inevitable, unless the masses protest.  All ready we are working at slave wages.  Each time it is announced yet another rate is rising, a utility, an insurance premium, or a tax, what were mainstream Americans become poorer.  Slowly and silently we are being forced into poverty.  What I don't understand is how Cumberland County, the only county in North Carolina that did not grow in population in 2017,  is allowed 
to be irradiated.  There is a tangible reason why Cumberland Country did not grow.  Visit it.  Hang out.  Stay a while.  Relax, or rather try to relax.  Alcohol is necessary.  Alcohol is necessary.  Alcohol is necessary, and the prudent business owners know this.  You will not be able to relax without help.  I would prefer a Rub and a Tug, but that is illegal.  Our prudent, corrupt, self centered, and self righteous state assembly members want to control everything.  If it has the potential to make money, they want to control it.  So in a nutshell is the problem with America.  This is why Capitalism has failed to work for the mainstream, and this is why no longer is there a mainstream.  Small businesses and public education have been abandoned, therefore creating the third world hierarchy of rich and poor.  If we do not educate our populace, and if we do not support small business, then the rich forever will proliferate.  This has been the plan all along since W.  It seems to have begun with W.  I used to think that W. was the devil manifested in human form.  Now I feel the devil manifested in human form is Mark Z.  W.'s people pushed him as their American president to enable the rich and forget the rest.  I am tired of fighting for it.  If my country will not afford me a reasonable living with my knowledge and talent, then why should I fight?  The answer is survival.  Like Generation X I don't give a shit.  If when you work harder they beat you down more, what's the point?  Kurt Cobain.  You become a martyr.  I almost have adjusted to the idea that not all of us are to prosper in America at least monetarily.  Jesus was poor, and He was alright.  I am alright being poor, but it is a drag.  Never have I been able to choose my own car.  Never have I been able to buy my own bedroom suite.  Never have I been able to design my own kitchen.  Never have I been married.  Never have I had children.  I have missed a lot of things, and yet I am not disgruntled.  I am not bitter, but I am longing.  It comes and goes.  It comes when my community, as small as it is, feels the same.  Because I am a support mechanism, I am not at liberty to exercise freedom of choice.  It is a unique and challenging state of grace.  I am not bitter, but I am restless with the prospect of not doing many of the things others have done.  (The radiation just began again.  It stopped for a brief moment, and my eyes were clear)  There is a lowly, uneducated, undeserving slave with his hand on the switch.  An affluent family is telling him what to do for slave wages.  Fighter gets fly over my house continually.  Helicopters thunder all night long.  Diesel trains operate non-stop.  Although America is not at war, Cumberland Country is at war, and no one wants it.  They do not want to live here.  That is why this county is the only county in North Carolina which did not grow in population in 2017.  We have a massive war machine.  We have 65,000+ soldiers preparing for war, and yet Cumberland Country is not at war.  Why should we have to live like America is at war?  Unless you exploit the training soldiers, why cannot we live a peaceful and serene life like others?  Move they would say.  I am not at liberty to do that at the moment.  For two weeks straight we have been irradiated, irradiated with electricity, vibration, and cancer-causing bile.  Gen X and other chemicals are in the Cape Fear River.  The "vibe" of Cumberland Country could not be worse.  It is if Elon Musk has pointed his supersonic laser directly at Fayettenam.  We are under scrutiny.  We are being scrutinized.  We are smuggling drugs.  We are trafficking juveniles.  We are committing murder, all because mainstream capitalism has failed.  When mainstream capitalism fails, a community ceases to produce.  When the parts of the puzzle do not fit together and support one another, the image deteriorates.  The fall of mainstream capitalism is because of the demise of domestic manufacturing, the demise of the production of textiles, the demise of the production of furniture, and the demise of the production of appliances.  It is because America's manufacturing jobs were out-sourced to Jihad.  We gave up on Americans, Americans who fought for and deserved a living wage.  We sold out America in the blink of an eye when Bill Clinton singed NAFTA.  Many South American economies collapsed, and many South Americans lost their life savings all in the blink of an eye, the flick of a presidential ink pen.  What is left?  What will you see if you travel across America?  What do you see in Cumberland County?  Strip malls.  Urban sprawl.  Green spaces that rapidly are disappearing.  Growth.  The only time growth is necessary is when mainstream capitalism has failed.