Winter Soldier

The clock says quarter after Autumn, but the jagged edge on the air says something else.

Look up in the sky.

It’s not a bird.

It’s not a plane.

And it ain’t Superman.

It’s Winter.

She took an early flight and brought a lot of luggage like she wants to stay for a while.

And it seems like only yesterday that Summer was stretched out on the sand, little beads of sweat on her bronze skin, smiling that inviting smile that made “work” seem like a wholly alien concept. Nothing left to remind you of that now but the toothbrush she left behind and an emptiness against your body where she should be.

Winter.

M’Lady de Winter.

Isn’t she the malevolent mercenary bitch who ate Athos’ soul raw in Dumas’ Three Musketeers?

Doesn’t look like she has a pleasant time planned for me, either.

She’s the Winter of my discontent, but there’s nothing novel about it, and the son of York is not going to come out tomorrow. Your bottom dollar is a sucker bet.

For M'Lady Liberty, my long-lost first love, this may be the final Winter.

Maybe the phoney flying flu vaccine will kill her.

Maybe Obama will pull the plug so she can have “death with dignity,” rather than drudge on with such a diminished “quality of life,” that he's helped to diminish.

But Death is rarely dignified, though it's quite often permanent.

The American Dream was a sweet one.

A Republic with liberty and justice for all.

Of the People, by the People and for the People.

Sweet.

But it was a Summer Dream.

And Summer’s gone.

sj

The Nature of the Beast

I’m not big on house-keeping.

The other day, I cued up a dvd and, on a whim, wiped the dust off the video screen. Astonished to discover that the flick was actually in color and not in black-and-white.

Took my old pal on a ride through the woods yesterday.

It was a little like that.

Something in the air.

Colors cleaner, crisper, more vivid.

Like somebody had wiped the dust off the world.

Quiet.

Soft thud of his hooves on detritus-carpeted ground, punctuated by the crunch of fallen leaves.

Occasional crack of a twig underfoot.

Distant bird.

Mouse silently scampering across the path.

But mostly just the wind, suggesting sweet and obscene delights to the trees in a soft, hoarse voice...

Cool in the shadows, warm in the sunny patches.

We take our favorite course, one he knows as well as I do.

Either of us could follow it blind-folded.

The uneven ground, strewn with obstacles, is good for the old boy.

Keeps him sure-footed and sharp.

Some days, when we reach a certain open field, I can feel he wants to run, and I let him go. Other days, like today, he’s content to amble along, grabbing a leaf-snack here, giving a snort there.

He’s not a youngster anymore, but still has all the heart you could ever hope to find in anyone. And he’s still the boss of his band, and only rarely has to flatten an ear to remind anyone of it.

I think of him at times when my workouts are tough, when I pull an injury, or when the accumulated abuse nags me in irritating little ways.

We do what we do, because what we do is what we are.

He’ll never stop being a horse, doing horse-things, as long as he lives, because that’s his nature.

I just have to figure out mine.

sj

Hard Lesson

Freedom's just another word for "nothin' left to lose."

Me and Bobby Macgee,
Kris Kristofferson

Be With Me

Be with me

Because you see the beauty of yourself in my eyes

Feel the power of yourself in my touch

Be with me

Because we are stronger together

Than when we’re apart

Be with me

Because I am free, and you are free, and together

We are free

Be with me

Because you are not quite complete

Without me

Be with me

Because it’s your desire and choice

Or not at all.

sj

Lie-La-lie.......

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries a reminder
Of every glove that's laid him down
Or cut him 'til he's cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving...."
But the fighter still remains.

The Boxer
Simon and Garfunkel

In the Kingdom of the Horse...

...there are no lies.
No such thing as time.
In the Kingdom of the Horse
There is only Freedom
Or Death.

sj

And the wind sighs, "Mary.........."

It’s sad to say good-bye today to Mary Travers, of Peter, Paul & Mary fame.

She gave voice to songs and hopes and dreams of better times, times of peace, times of joy.

Times still too damn long in coming.

She was 72, fell victim to the big C.

Good-bye, Mary.

It was great having you.

You did good, darlin.'

Sleep in the sand.

sj

How many roads must a man walk down

Before you call him a man?

Yes, ‘n’ how many seas must a white dove sail

Before she sleeps in the sand?

Yes, ‘n’ how many times must the cannon balls fly

Before they’re forever banned?

The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind,

The answer is blowin’ in the wind.

How many times must a man look up

Before he can see the sky?

Yes, ‘n’ how many ears must one man have

Before he can hear people cry?

Yes, ‘n’ how many deaths will it take till he knows

That too many people have died?

The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind,

The answer is blowin’ in the wind.

How many years can a mountain exist

Before it’s washed to the sea?

Yes, n how many years can some people exist

Before they’re allowed to be free?

Yes, n how many times can a man turn his head,

Pretending he just doesn’t see?

The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind,

The answer is blowin’ in the wind.

Blowin’ in the Wind

Bob Dylan, 1963

Hear Mary sing it with Peter & Paul at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2gYa5wq_x_o

and

http://musicblips.dailyradar.com/video/peter-paul-mary-blowin-in-the-wind/

Those Who Can Make You Believe Absurdities...

.....Can make you commit atrocities.

- Voltaire

Do you think this is a "collapse" caused by a fire?
Do you think Lee Harvey Oswald, acting alone, murdered President Kennedy?
Do you think the Spanish blew up the USS Maine?
Do you think all those women hanged and burned were really witches?

“In the simplicity of their minds, people more readily fall victims to the big lie than the small lie, since they themselves often tell small lies in little matters but would be ashamed to resort to large-scale falsehoods. It would never come into their heads to fabricate colossal untruths, and they would not believe that others could have such impudence. Even though the facts which prove this to be so may be brought clearly to their minds, they will still doubt and continue to think that there may be some other explanation.”

- Adolf Hitler. Mein Kampf

Be careful what you believe in.

sj

Following the Sun

One day you'll look to see I've gone

For tomorrow may rain,

so I'll follow the sun

Some day you'll know I was the one

But tomorrow may rain,

so I'll follow the sun

And now the time has come

and, my love, I must go

And though I lose a friend

In the end you will know

One day you'll find that I have gone

But tomorrow may rain,

so I'll follow the sun…

I’ll Follow the Sun

Lennon/McCartney, 1964

Favorite song of mine.
You can hear it at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gh6NS2D0pW8

sj

Rain

I do not love for silver

I do not love for gold

My heart is mine to give away

It never will be sold.

So, Baby the rain must fall

Baby the wind must blow

Wherever my heart leads me

Baby I must go…

Baby, The Rain Must Fall

Elmer Bernstein.

You can hear Glenn Yarbrough’s hit version of this tune at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3c1-U_vCuLQ&feature=related

sj

The Blues in F

Leaves turning.

Ponies shedding.

Seems… too early.

But as soon as the sun goes down the air takes on a certain chill, the way a false lover’s smile fades when you turn your back and she thinks you don’t notice.

Summer.

Like love, long on the anticipation and short on the duration.

It’s the time of year when getting out of bed takes longer.

Old injuries ache.

Broken knuckles. Broken ribs. Broken heart.

The pain is still there.

It just doesn’t hurt anymore...

Picked up a bottle of tequila yesterday.

After extensive testing determined it to be fit for human consumption.

It sambas softly down your throat like Lauren Bacal floating across the silver screen in To Have or to Have Not, and you don’t even have to know how to whistle...

See, there are two ways to beat the blues -- and neither one works.

Trying to soothe the blues with hooch is like giving an aspirin to a guy who’s been gored in the guts by a bull.

Trying to forget an old ill-fated love by diving into a new ill-fated love is like fighting fire with fire.

The smart money is on water.

The blues.

Slow.

The ideal music for a man’s melancholy reflection, as well as for a woman’s clothing removal.

“In the Evenin,” by Yusef Lateef. He blows oboe on that one.

Blows it real well, too.

Plays like it hurts.

sj

Unanswered Questions & Unquestioned Answers

We say, risk a lot to save a lot, risk a little to save a little, risk nothing to save nothing.

Firefighters entered the WTC buildings because there was no reason NOT to.
No such steel frame buildings had EVER collapsed "due to the effects of fire" before --- and none have collapsed since.
Such extensive physical evidence confirms the use of thermite/thermate that only an idiot can still believe those buildings "collapsed" due to the effects of fire.
So let's move on.

Who had access to the buildings to rig those explosives?

Why was the crime scene so immediately destroyed and evidence disposed of?

Why didn't fighter planes intercept those airliners as per standard operating procedure?

Who benefitted from the crime?


Lots of questions.

The fallen deserve more than flowers and flags and tear-stained speeches.

They deserve answers.

They deserve the truth.


sj

Does Anybody Even Remember?

Winning hearts and minds with air strikes.

Pop Quiz: Just what the hell are we doing in Afghanistan, anyway?

Give up?

Here’s a refresher:

After the World Trade Center arson/murders of 9/11, Uncle Sam asked the government of Afghanistan to extradite Osama bin Laden to be charged with the 9/11 crimes.

The Afghan government AGREED, in accordance with cooperative international law -- as soon as the US government provided evidence --- we’d call that “probable cause” -- that bin Laden was involved.

The US government refused to provide any such evidence.

Doesn’t take a genius to figure out why.

As a result, the Afghan government refused US troops entry to their country and refused extradition until evidence was provided, asking simply that the rule of law to apply to the US extradition request.

The US then invaded Afghanistan without providing evidence and without UN Security Council approval. Then-President Bush said, “There’s no need to discuss evidence of innocence or guilt. We know he’s guilty.”

So there you have it.

We’re in Afghanistan as part of a murderous lynch mob, retaliating against folks who wouldn’t help us hold the rope.

Don’t it just make you proud?

sj

Don't Fool with Mother Nature

If you could genetically combine a horse with a human being,
you'd get a tremendously improved human being...


...or a pitifully retarded horse.

sj

Specialization

A human being should be able to change a diaper,

plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly.

Specialization is for insects.

-Robert A. Heinlein

It's Not Enough to Know How to Ride....

...You have to know how to fall.

sj

La Plus Que Change.......

Cute aren't they?
They should be holding hands.

Can you guess who these guys are laughing at?
Here's a hint: there's one born every second.

Still don't know?
Here's another hint: go look in the mirror.

If you voted for Obama because you wanted a "change" from the fascist follies, the joke's on you, my friend. When he said "change" you thought he meant change for the better?
Silly you.

For us, it's like Bush got a third term.
Only worse.
Obama is out-Bushing Bush on all Bush's worst actions.

For Bush, it's like he got a third term.
Only better.
Because all those "liberal" and "progressive" Democrats that used to annoy him by citing the Constitution, are completely on board and with-the-program now that their team has the ball.

For the guys who own them both, it doesn't matter.
No matter who's in, they win.

Ok.
We screwed up.
The question now is what are we going to do about it?
Whatever it is, we'd better come up with it fast.

Any suggestions?


sj

White Horse Speaks:

When the Wasichu* came, land was free, air clean, water sweet.
Plenty buffalo, plenty beaver, deer, elk.
No taxes, no debts, no prisons.
No rich, no poor.
All children taken care of, old people respected, women treated as equals
Man spend all day hunting and fishing with friends, teaching his children, training his horses.
Man spend all night eating, telling stories, having good sex.

Only Wasichu stupid enough to think he could improve on that.

*a disparaging term for "white man"

sj

Of Horses and Women

A man who does not love a horse, cannot love a woman.

-Spanish proverb

sj