YES; THE GOVERNMENT LIES… ALL THE TIME IN FACT

Donald Trump is right to challenge the National Security establishment. Being a true liberal, I find it curious the fake outrage pouring out of DC, the MSM and “official sources within the government” over his questioning of these professional liars. Even if Russian State actors did hack the emails released by Wikileaks, please help me understand the actual damage done compared to the actions of our own FBI and the Clinton campaign itself. It’s not like the petty bullshit in the emails was made up?

Anyway, though I disagree with Trump on most policy, his ability to get under the skin of the elite political class is amusing and may even be healthy in the long-term? Who else with real power has so publically put their record as serial liars on front street? And make no mistake; they are professional liars and master manipulators.

As unlikely as it is, it isn’t out of the realm of possibility to consider some rogue group within the CIA, FBI or NSA guilty of the hacking, then trying to pawn responsibility off on the Russian’s? You might laugh, but if you think that’s impossible, you haven’t been paying attention to history. Just this week it was learned that Dick Nixon scuttles the Johnson peace talks in Vietnam in order to win the presidency. And don’t forget his FBI boss and the incredible nefarious 50 year history within that agency under his kingship.

Oh but this is 2016 not 1968, you say. Don’t be naive. For 15 years the government has been collecting every American’s information, including recording the content of telephone and video chats, metadata, and all internet activity in clear violation of several Constitutional amendments. Literally tens of thousands within the government have known about it without but a very few speaking up. So? Yea.

Donald Trump is correct in questioning their ethics. Period.

 

 

 

 

LIP-SERVICE: THE FARCE OF THANKING VETERANS

The intention was that I’d move here, the farthest away I could get, to write and discover just how fucked-up I’d become post-Army. In between my virtual travels, my organic life seemed to fall prey to one disaster, then another, causing me to reevaluate my journey, asking in earnest; “was it really the war, or was it just me?” And now, after all these wasted days and sleepless nights, a sharp conclusion struck me square in the face: I’m not alone. Veterans are not alone in suffering. Society en mass seems to have turned on itself? So many people angry and confused. So many good people understanding that so much is wrong, yet unsure or ambivalent to the actual perpetrators? Like fish in the sea who don’t even know that they are wet, we’re turning on each other. Picture the chicken coop full of birds. Just one of them turns up with a speck of blood on the feather and soon, the entire flock is in the midst of a bloody Armageddon to the death.

What I’m trying to say is this: In my struggles, far from home with nowhere else to turn, the systems in place meant to help, even as a veteran, in time, often resembled the chicken coop. The people employed to give a hand, so to speak, often seemed incapable of escaping their own anger. The projection and transference so readily apparent, at times naked, caused me to stumble further. For those in more precarious conditions, the ineptitude and carelessness was, is, and can be inescapable. What now hits me the hardest is the complete indifference of anyone in a position to modify these unprofessional flaws. Anyone taking a rational look from the outside in, beneath the metaphoric carpet, would easily recognize the rot. But here’s the irony: In truth, nobody [very few] gives a flying fuck about homeless veterans…or homeless anybody for that matter. I certainly don’t. I can’t even bring myself to care about me.

This is an obvious point, yet the election of Donald Trump, a truly revolting character and certain disaster as a president, is a reflection of this anger so many feel…and for good reason. The political elite and the institutions they direct, have for 30+ years, stomped on the social security and welfare of nearly everyone else. While they gorged themselves from Wall Street to war profiteering to a zero interest monetary policy, they completely dismissed the victims of that fattening. Turns out there is a limit to this sort of twisted economic principal, or as Bush I put it in a rare moment of truth, “voodoo economics.” The socializing of corporate and financial institutions losses and the free market capitalism of Main Street’s economic pain. That is: we can find the money to save the gambler’s on Wall Street, including massive bonuses and incredible pay packages with taxpayer money, while simultaneously cutting unemployment benefits, food stamps, etc, because, you know, the “deficit.” Turns out, even the ignorant “white working class” and all the other demeaning pejoratives for 99% of the country can understand when they’re being fed bullshit sandwiches.

My point is that this broad anger and frustration seems to be bleeding out and onto fellow 99%er’s. How else can you explain the rank treatment I personally witnessed military veteran’s enduring within programs funded to do the opposite? How else can one justify the lack of compassion for the most in need by those tasked to serve?

I don’t want to share my story, it’s embarrassing. You might think after reading, “you need to tell someone, file a complaint..etc?” I gave up on that. The truth is, it’s a homeless guys word against a group of employees at a private organization who have their own story. The world isn’t fair. They actually made me believe for a while that I was in the wrong. That’s how sick it is, the system. Imagine how those who are really troubled are abused?

Long story short: Far from home, family and friends, I lost my home and nearly everything else to a fire. I entered a local program funded through the VA for homeless vet’s. I worked at this program doing what they call “work therapy” 40 hours a week…no pay of course, I had no discipline reports, no problems, etc. Reluctantly, I began meeting with one of the counselors about my PTSD. The second session, he started holding my hand which I thought was strange and made me uncomfortable. I’m certain he understood this, yet the next week he moved from my hand to my thigh, at which point I got up and left without explanation. The following night at 1AM, the Veteran Case Manager had me come downstairs asking me about a firearm and had I been threatening someone. Of course not. In my things I had a toy pistol which I mentioned. The police were phoned without me knowing. I was escorted to get a few things and told to leave the property. It was -15f. When I was able to return, I was told my property was donated due to policy.

You might think this is a bullshit story? Sure, there are more details but I am not leaving anything out like I was drunk, acting crazy, unliked by any other client, nothing that I can point to regarding my behavior. This was a simple move to get rid of me after a sick advance by a sick employee working in an ultra sick organization. Period. And it worked.

That’s all I say for now. I have made peace with it the best I can.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poking the Bear – #Russia Love

The ever rising platitudes finally peeked, American style, with this pronouncement from a prominent talking head: “the 9/11 of cyber war.” Excuse me while I wipe the spittle from the corners of my acidic mouth. The 9/11 of huh? Will someone of authority please stand up and ask the loonies to dial it back just a tad? Am I missing something here? 

So far the most sophisticated arm of this Cyber-Charge of the Light Brigade seems to have cracked a Gmail account using a piece of code as old as Gmail itself. You say legit, I say illegitimate, whatever? Why would you ask some other dumbass to check your spam? These are the folks supposedly so much smarter than the Trump Clan? Hardly. The prey circled while the cuddly bear opened up a mean Care Bear Stare and whoopsie…..10s of thousands of Clinton campaign chairman emails woken from hibernation early. Bold move comrade. 

Now, the DNC hack. Seems a lot more sophisticated and targeted, yes. This story about the FBI agent phoning a DNC tech to report the activity pretty much sums up the rest of the damage. But 9/11? Come the fuck on! Out of millions of emails the absolute worst were of the “egg on da face” variety. No criminal shit. Just petty bickering and nonsense. Yes, Bernie was clearly never going to ascend over Hillary. No surprise there. The DNC could use this as a lesson instead of a crutch? Nevertheless, PUTIN, PUTIN, RUSSIA…WIKILEAKS! Reminds me of BENGHAZI, BENGHAZI.

If no one that matters can rise above this trash, the Dem Party has no relevant future on national politics. If the Russian Gov was directly involved in these shenanigans I have to believe many in the MSM have the reading all wrong. I’d say Russia thought Clinton was a lock to win and sent all this trash out in order to undermine our processes. Either way, big win for them. If American’s believe our NSA and CIA aren’t playing similar games, I have an Igloo in Siberia for sale…OH wait.

This is an arena that will become evermore dangerous as rhetoric soars and retaliations compound. We must remember that these spook agencies only leave bread crumbs behind when they WANT you to find the prize…or the flaming dog shit, as it were. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Five-Thousand Miles to Truth

Are you looking up into the great space tonight, my dear? The enormity of the sky above seemed to synchronize our minds in the darkness, alone and together. Is it all just a dream or worse, an intermission before the final act? Whatever might be, or is, I find some comfort at least in the thought, that no matter how far away, we can still look upon that space as one.

Do you recall that day in December? A flight across the entire country just to tell you the truth? All I had to go on were the tiny fragments of our silly conversations. The only way I could find you was to assemble the clues you slipped into these fragile secrets. The big city seemed like it could have swallowed you whole?

Five thousand miles, four cabs rides and three coffee shops later; I saw you standing there. Like an angel fallen from the highest places, my courage caught in my throat. That quick glance you gave me, the pause that followed mid-sentence, the smile.

For a second I wondered, had this been a poor assessment? Would an apology be enough to overcome the distance that immaturity had swollen? The second look in my direction was all I ever wanted to know. From that day forward, till the day we all lost you, I promised to love you like I did that day on the outskirts of Boston, 15 years ago.

Is it the fresh snow or is it the collapse in temperature that follows the winters storm? Whatever it is in this nature all around tonight, you feel closer this evening than in some time. Do you still believe in me? I miss you, of course, but it’s more than that at this moment. It’s like you are smiling at the thought of it all and realizing, all over again, that true love lives on.

It wasn’t like me to just jump on a plane and off my comfortable shelf. Five thousand miles isn’t that far when you consider the distance in between honesty and the truth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ENDLESSLY WAITING: A MACHINE OF GHOSTS & GRAVITY

It’s possible, some say, that not so far in the future, we will upload our entirety to a device. In such, some will continue to live on, forever, flashing and speeding upon the face of a microchip; humanity paused, then lost, somewhere within the magnetic gravity of a machines binary certainty.

Man in the machine: the desperate final attempt, a last gasp in tepid futility. prescient in, and above, immortality. The future speeds towards a select few, those worthy enough we’ll somehow judge, to remember forever.

What sort of demented chaos could erupt from the madness of this intranet of ignoble thought? Will the ephemeral be replaced by the digital? Will the past remain in record or will it become of no consequence for the whirling minds of material thought?

Imagine if you might, uploading every craven thought, every glorious memory, every moving picture onto a machine, -modern as it might be- the mass of a Tahoe Snowflake in May. Imagine being one stuck, flowing within the circuits of a server, connected to trillions of snowflakes, a current falling into the undertow. A trillion trillion rivers of formerly existing material thoughts.

Imagine losing the very human ability to move, to dance in space. All while gaining the silicon tools to speed across and into many billions of lifelong memories. Moving upon this ultimate collection of structured memory, you get lost in the branches of a seemingly endless maze of intellect; your body once a gangly hinderance, it now remains of scattered ash and electric dust.

I try imagining you in this machine, my dear. Poured into the machine, but a database, your mind and memories available any moment I’d like? Your voice calming, you relate to me, across the immense gulf of shared memories. Our shared experiences a language of base two.

Just the thought of such madness truly frightens me on this cold night. If this is the future, our memories synapsing forever, our lives now terminally paused; I sit and ponder the thought of a forever, forever, and would rather not wander that internet alone.

Why would anyone want to go on inside a machine?  To live without a life forever? It’s no life. There is no forever.

Universe’s end in an absolute dance of frozen death.