Nobody's creekbed

songs, prayers, poetry, stories, art, photographs, moving pictures, fondnesses, tall-tales and meditations

My Photo
Name:

The Anterior Insula and Hwy W

Friday, November 30, 2018

I don't believe Trump truly wanted to be president. He really just desired to continue wielding the chicanery of capitalism—whereby the wealth of conscience-less greed-heads simply and without any effort begets more wealth and everyone else is exploited—to build Trump Towers in the autocratic capitals of the globe (Moscow, Riyadh, Beijing), installing his fetishized autocrats (Putin, Mohammed bin Salman, Duterte) in the $50 million penthouse of each dark tower. The big problem is that he and his family—once a combination of surprising-but-not-really-surprising factors such as the illiterate consumerism, sheer desperation, exploitable prejudices, self-interested greed, and apathy of U.S. citizens allowed his ridiculous stunt to proceed—figured that being president could just be the same thing. And maybe right now that is true. We need to re-vision our reason and purpose, our empathy and potential.

Friday, November 23, 2018

I get asked all the time so here's a secret: key to this blog's longevity is that it's written for kids, adults, and dolphins.

Monday, November 12, 2018

Hee Haw skit

Cornpone: My daughter blew an egg out her nose.
Rubbery Farmer: Holy moly. Did it hurt?
Cornpone: I don't know — she's a girl!