Archive for January, 2015


Cirque Politique: The Crazy Train Keeps Rambling


Pew Central here at the Church has been bathed in new flotsam as I continue to check the news screeds out there for more political scat pertaining to Election Amerika 2016. This is where the race begins to get churning on the rails of insanity for me, better than any video game I could be absorbed in. With video games you always know the outcome will be you die or beat the game. With politics, you always survive, but at what degree?
The Democrats haven’t really fired any big torpedoes yet because the only real candidate (potential) to stick their face out there is Hillary Clinton. The two next possibilities in the wings waiting would have to be New York Governor Andrew Cuomo and Maryland Governor Martin OMalley, but they are holding back to see if Ms. Clinton does the hard push of her hat in the ring we wont even mention Smokin Joe Biden because, well, that’s just too damn comical and cruel. The Democrats for the most part seem content to sit back and wait until the last minute as they wait out the lasting period of the Obama regime. This will be their demise in 2016 if they continue with this strategy because by the time the public starts feeling the itch to vote, the majority of thrust will be put behind the Republicans. The Democrats will come too late to the dance.
As for the Republicans they seem to be promoting the campaign circus the best by doling out the fanfare of candidates they hope we will latch our teeth into for the Presidency. Mitt Romney and Jeb Bush have taken a slight step back to hide in a corner and wait for the public to cry nay at the current competitors for the job, hoping to sneak in after the first cut has eliminated some of the current leaders. Rand Paul flounders about here and there but has no stability so I assume he will continue to be a gnat in the face of voters, someone a drunk friend points to now and then to say THAT’S who we should be voting for..Rand Paul, supported by drunks everywhere.
The Phoenix Sun Times reported that Senator John McCain was booed by Republicans over the weekend at a GOP rally in Arizona, someone actually yelling out that he was a war monger. I seriously doubt he even wants to fuck with another presidential run so we can cast him aside right now-but thanks for the enjoyment here on the Crazy Train, John.
Then we come to the Captain of the Locomotive this week, the darling of the North, Sarah Palin. During the Freedom Summit in Iowa headed by Congressman Steve King (not the horror writer but macabre nonetheless) Sarah Palin got up and delivered a speech that had some cheering, some bewildered and others questioning their sanity. Her speech contained a hodgepodge of blathered self promotion, strange mash-up ramblings and paranoid gibberish. She started by addressing what she referred to as attacks she had been subjected to from the likes of Michael Moore and PETA. I still cant figure out the Moore connection as she apparently drew first blood directly at him for him making crass remarks about the film American Sniper; what that has to do with running our country, Ill never know. The PETA reference was aimed toward words and electronic confrontations she had with the animal rights group after posting a picture of her son using the family dog as a foot stool. Again, these matters seem pretty trivial in the pursuit of leading our great nation but far be it from me to understand how great the pressure must be for her. I do know that I love the crazy she brings to the race.
Then shit got real when she launched into the president for eating dog as a child in Indonesia and threw in a quick rabbit punch about how the Obama Administration failed to save Ambassador Stevens in Benghazi. The rambling continued:
It is good that we have a deep bench and its primary competition that will surface the candidate who’s up to the task and unify and this person has to because knowing what the media will do throughout all of 2016 to all us its going to take more than a village to beat Hillary. Things must change for our government! It isn’t too big to fail, its too big to succeed! Its too big to succeed, so we can afford no retreads or nothing will change, with the same people and same policies that got us into the status quo! Another Latin word, status quo, and it stands for, Man, the middle class and everyday Americans are really getting taken for a ride.
No doubt Sarah. We truly are being taken for a ride..a ride on that Crazy Train you managed to take control of for the time being and I, for one, am digging the thrill ride. I can say this with jest because I have faith that in the long run, the general electing population will laugh and point at you, but there is no fucking way we are going to give you the football. So far I stand by my prediction that the Big Man, Chris Christie, will rein champ for 2016-at least for the moment. As for the rest of the candidates, Republicans and any of the pussy Dems hiding in the wings behind Hillary, I don’t see a leader among you-prove me wrong, I dare you, but until then, I’m enjoying the circus on board the Crazy Train.


Urbanex Fini


I reminded myself that I was the most cognizant of the trio and stepped up with a plan. The cook and waitress at Peppy Grill were getting fed up with Brian and his insane ways and they kept telling me to never bring him back there again. I assured them that wouldn’t happen and tried to explain it all away.
“He’s diabetic and having a reaction to his insulin-they have him on something new”
I have no idea why I even tried to bring that up but it made sense to try in my state of mind. The cook gave me the benefit of the doubt because she could see I was trying hard to keep that beast under control.
The thug whose girlfriend Brian approached waited about twenty minutes in his car with her then took off, thank god so at that point I rallied Brian and Janice to her car, in spite Brian protesting to wait for his street whore to show up. I wasn’t going to wait for that stain on society because now it was 5AM and I would still have to walk back to my place from Janice’s house…wherever that was. We cruised on tenth toward the misdirections Brain kept feeding me and up ahead I could see a gauntlet of red and blue lights. Cops had someone pulled over and it looked like about four or five of their cars. At that point, Brian tells us he needs to hang his head out the window and throw up because the motion is getting to him. Somehow I managed to convince him that he would not vomit and of course, we had to turn down the street right in front of the police fiasco. Things went smooth about three blocks after that as we let the gay monster out and he went inside to enjoy his breakfasts. Janice and I made it back to her place and at around 6AM I was walking back to my house trying to convince myself that I would have enough time to catch a quick nap before the photo shoot.
I managed a couple quick hours of rest before being picked up and with a huge Starbucks in hand my brother and three others were on our way to Purdue country-Lafayette, Indiana. The abandoned hotel was right across the street from the State Police headquarters so we were hoping they wouldn’t be sticklers about those pesky trespassing laws. It wasn’t like we were planning some gang rape inside or setting a bum on fire; we were there for art. The expressive form nature doles on human structures can be very artistic and my brother has an eye for capturing the sublime inside old warehouses, abandoned facilities and such. Hunt down Mike Allee on Flickr and you’ll see some of the amazing work he has captured and created from around the globe.
I found the door leading in and we donned our head lamps and protective breathing masks into the three storied hotel. Mold and all sorts of nasty shit was all around; spongy green fungus was growing on the floors in some rooms. Wild animal scat covered all the beds and dressers left in there. A King James version of the Bible had been left open to no page in particular for the pigeons trapped in there to pray on. Numerous utilities were left there for the scavenging if that’s what you were into and the kitchen was still stocked with dishes and industrial ovens. The DJs booth had 45s littered on the floor, still in pristine condition. It reminded you of a movie set from The Walking Dead, minus the zombies.
We headed through all 3 floors and snapped off a ton of images before calling it a day and everyone agreed that the trip was well worth it. Doing urbanex is not for everyone-germophobes would definitely freak out and those who saunter by too quick may not catch the small nuances which make you appreciate the stages of decay to be witnessed. Plans will be underway for another shoot, in another location (at some point) but for now we called it quits. The shoot was over and I went back to my little domain to breath a sigh of exhaustion after all I have been through in the past twenty hours or so. Time would allow me to strengthen my body once again to be ready for the next jaunt out there and even now as I write this, more sagas develop…but that’s for another time.


Urbanex, Bus Tales and the Peppy Grill Incident pt. 2


Apparently hit and runs are a bit more common than I would have imagined here in Sleepytown; two ladies I spoke with on the bus told me how a friend had been hit waiting at a bus stop where poor lighting made him an unseeable target. I do know from personal experience that a number of the stops here are not well lit and I have had to flag down a speeding bus in the dark on a few occasions. The cost of a street light must be incredible.
My mind was still reeling from the two Latinas who bought my dinner that evening but there was no time to let that slow me down. Dormans was calling and I quickly got to my place, spruced up and headed to this favored old saloon which has been in existence since the 1800s. The crowd was hopping with new friends and old. My good compadres, Zach and Freddy, were there testing the waters for new women and glad to see me vertical. A familiar couple was at the pool table (still the cheapest place in town to play pool); Matt and Amber joined in a game of cutthroat with me. Amber is a self proclaimed quasi-sanguine, meaning she doesn’t drink blood but she gets a rush from drawing it from people; to her favor, she actually has a job where they pay her to do this. A new face I met was Doug, this huge muscular guy with a curled moustache and bald head. He resembled one of those strong men you see on old time circus posters and he played pool one handed…and he played well. Not only did he shoot one handed, he would aim up his shot, then look you dead in the eye while he popped in a ball. I was thankful that at that time Doug was on my team as the night played on and I continued to fill myself with mescal.
I told myself I should probably head home for rest as the urbnaex photo shoot would start early and just as I was about to head for the door, a familiar face walked in. I had met her at Dormans a couple weeks ago and was taken by her as she danced the night with me that evening (even though Dormans is not a dance bar). I thought for sure it was a one time thing and I would never see her again yet here she came through the door. I couldn’t leave now as we began to rekindle where we had left off.
She came along with a friend of hers I’ll call Brad. Brad was gay and not just gay, he was assertively gay and jacked up on adrenaline or speed or something that had him bouncing around like an ADD kid off his ritalin. A very nice guy who actually acted more pansexual than gay but that was neither here nor there at this point. The evening went on as me, Janice and Brad swilled down mescal and some absinthe and before we knew it, quitting time had rolled around. Three in the morning and I had a photo shoot to go to tomorrow.
We went out to her Janice’s car but she was in no condition to drive-neither was Brad so that left me the most logical choice at that point. I do not condone operating a vehicle under those conditions but I was extremely careful, it was late enough that there was not a lot of traffic out and if I left the driving to one of those two there would have been a fiery crash. No one was ready to go home yet as the alcohol had kicked in our desire for food. The only place I could think of that would be close and open at this hour was the Peppy Grill so I carefully drove us down there while Brad rattled on in the back seat. Now the eastside Peppy Grill has a more country western feel to it and is accustomed to late night drunks and thieves so we didn’t come as a complete surprise to the waitress and cook inside…for a while. As soon as we got out of the car Brad told me he needed the key to get something out of the back so I gave him the key and Janice and I went in to order some breakfast with sodium. Brad popped in two minutes later and slammed his debit card on the table to pay for the whole affair but somehow had managed to lose the car key in that brief period. We had him rifle through his jacket pockets repeatedly but no key popped up. He then ordered himself two breakfast platters and went outside to check the car for the key. Janice and I got lost in each other’s company for a bit but before long we noticed a new stranger by Brad and the car. I went out to investigate and at that point, Brad told me this new guy was going to ride home with him; I looked down and noticed the car key was still in the door. I didn’t know what to say about the new guy because I knew he was an eastside street hustler but Brad assured me he knew what he was getting into.
“As soon as I give him a dose of what I got he’ll be cooperative”. I took his code message to mean he had plans to give the guy a ruffie but all that was Brad’s problem, not mine. I just wanted to ensure Janice got home safe and that I got back so I could get a few hours sleep before the photo shoot.
I went back inside with Brad and sat down to eat with him and Janice. All of a sudden the street hustler bangs through the door and starts yelling at the waitress and cook and giving them hell for kicking him out earlier. I had no idea what madness had incurred earlier but got to watch the fireworks nonetheless as this guy stood off toe to toe with the Peppy Grill’s cook and the cook wasn’t taking any shit. She was used to late night assholes and stood her ground until he left but not before making a mess out of one of the tables.
Brad decided to make things even more interesting for us by walking over to a table where a thug and his girlfriend were sitting and tells the girl she’s beautiful. That got the thug out of his seat and in Brad’s face schooling him on manners. Those two exchanged verbals while Janice and I ate our eggs and enjoyed each other’s company. Albeit we were wrapped up with one another but not so distracted that we didn’t notice the thug getting up with his girlfriend and waiting in their car outside for us to leave. Excellent. I knew how things like this could play out and I wanted to make sure Brad went out first when we left and stayed clear of me and Janice because I did not want either of us catching a stray bullet or something. The night went on as the thug and his girlfriend sat in the car outside and Brad rambled on inside Peppy Grill and Janice and I ate our breakfast. I knew I could still get in a bit of rest before the urbanex shoot if I wrapped this up soon but somehow, I knew that wasn’t going to happen.


Urbanex Jaunt, More Tales From the Bus and the Peppy Grill Incident pt. 1


Plans had been set to do another urban exploration shoot (Urbanex) with my award winning photographer brother and a crew of three others. His sight was set on an dilapidated Holiday Inn that was abandoned back in the late nineties. The sprawl of old buildings is a fascinating piece of art and architecture to see and photograph that our country continues to create for us to explore. This locale was up in Purdue country, Lafayette, Indiana, and our schedule was to get there Saturday AM.
My weekend began at approximately 6PM Friday evening as I closed the doors on the shop where I put in my 9 to 5 hours. A customer was making a pickup and was running a bit late and called me to ask if I would remain open for him, which I obliged. When the gentleman arrived I discovered that he was a trainer for IndyGo, Indianapolis’s bus service (whom I have an ongoing loathe over service inadequacies with). He was falling behind today because while he was onboard training a new potential driver, the person wrecked the bus which caused a small shitstorm of paperwork and what-not for the trainer. I felt for the man and soon he was on his way home and I was on my way to enjoy my Friday evening by seeing what was out there.
I waited at my usual stop and before my bus arrived I witnessed a 50-ish year old black lady get knocked in a ditch by a hit-and-run vehicle that took off. I was too focused on the woman to try and catch a license plate number; I wanted to make sure she was alright and was going to get up because she did take a pretty nasty bump into a muddy ditch area. She did get up, with some effort, and began hobbling toward me, toward the bus stop, to get on the same bus as me. Her leg did not look right. It was twisted inward and I supposed by the way she limped and winced that the leg was no doubt broken. She made her way across the busy street and stood at the bus stop with her husband or brother or whoever the guy was, while we all waited for the bus. I noticed the huge circle of mud on the back of her coat where she had met the ground and felt bad knowing that by the looks of things, she was probably one of the great number of folks in this town who could not afford adequate health care so that meant the leg may very well go untreated. I have seen a number of people limping around town with improperly set limbs that have just been left to grin and bear it so when people want to go off on some tirade about how our taxes shouldn’t have to pay to help people like this, I get a sick taste in my mouth.
The bus showed up and the lady managed as best she could to hop up on the bus platform to get inside. As soon as she made her way on the driver took notice to her muddy coat and told the woman she would not be allowed to sit down on the bus with her coat like that because it would get mud on the seats. The driver gave her the option to take the coat off and sit down but it was apparent that the woman was struggling enough as it was and couldn’t possibly get that coat off, so, she stood and held onto the crossbar while we made our way down the street. She eventually got off and hobbled her way down the street with her partner which set the beginning emotion in my mind for Friday.
I crossed through town to do some things then backtracked to an eastside bar where some local boys were performing but didn’t stay there long as I didn’t want to get trapped on that side of town. I had other ambitions that evening, one including trying out a Mexican restaurant close to where I live and close to my favored haunt, Dormans Pub. Dormans always provides me with legendary evenings but first I needed some nutrition and a good batch of enchiladas verde was on my crave.
I wandered down to another bus stop and waited for the next one to come by. A bus was parked there but the sign read GARAGE, which meant I wasn’t getting any service out of that one. The driver was a fine looking black woman who looked more like an entertainer than a bus driver, with her highly detailed eye makeup and long golden earrings adorned with blue faux stones. We talked for a while as she quickly ate her lunch and smoked a cigarette, venting the frustrations of being a bus driver to me. I was more than receptive to allowing her to get her troubles out and validated her anger at the way some passengers treated her. Bus drivers do have to put up with an assload of mechanical problems and disgruntled people who take it out on them. Like any other business out there, you will find some rotten apples in the bunch that will make the rest look bad-like the guy who had the wreck today I suppose-but like the song said, one bad apple don’t spoil the whole bunch girl.
She took off and 45 minutes later another bus came to escort me over to my side of town. By then a good sized crowd had developed. It’s amazing the amount of information you can find out from people on the bus if you just speak up. Everyone seems to have the lowdown on bus times and schedules, where the best eating places are, etc. and I found out in spite of how late it was getting, the Mexican restaurant I wanted to try out would still be open for service once I arrived. I got off the bus and walked down a block to the place, a fantastic looking Mexican joint with brilliantly colored tables and chairs, brilliant depictions of birds and haciendas splattered in vibrant primary colors. I could imagine how wonderful it would look in there on acid. I ate my enchiladas and was ready for the bill; the waitress informed me that my bill had already been paid. This floored me and I asked who paid it.
“Two young ladies over at table nine paid your bill.”
I was definitely intrigued, flabbergasted and caught off guard and walked over to see if by chance the ladies at table nine were someone I knew. They were not. They were two beautiful looking Latinas in their mid twenties I would suspect, and then I really was unsure what to do. I had never been in this situation and felt very awkward as I thanked them and mumbled something about making sure I would pay it forward, then quickly left the joint-I left so quick and off balance that I forgot my favorite scarf at the table. My mind kept reeling on having my meal paid for by young beautiful women as I made my way back to my place to quickly freshen up and get ready for an evening at Dormans. I told myself I should make an early evening of it as I was scheduled to leave for the Urbanex shoot tomorrow at nine…..yeah…an early evening indeed…


The Big Man Cometh


Here we are in the arctic months of the Presidents lame duck stretch which ends 2016. The election of a new leader for America is coming soon. I could sit and write a few dozen paragraphs on the issue of what President Obama has and has not done during his two terms in office but that would be too sad an issue to bring up. The man was not the best president we’ve had, but he was certainly not the worst-in fact he was pretty fucking resilient in the midst of all the ass breaking effort the House and Senate Republicans threw at him. I still cannot grasp why they continued a do-nothing strategy; like Nero playing the violin while his city burned, they were determined not to give the President any accolades from the people for accomplishing something. They didn’t want to take credit for bipartisan achievements, rather they wanted anything Barack Obama suggested or put on the table to be shot down, regardless of how insane it seemed but slowly all that fighting will be a past era and a new one will emerge. The political machines are oiling up once again and the dance is underway.
Make sure you wade through the initial sensationalized crap that spews forth to taunt your primal rage. The real candidates will emerge but we will have to wait a while for the best of what they have to offer surfaces for your consideration. Side show antics like Mike Huckabees recent rant to the press about how the President and First Lady allow their daughters to listen to Beyonce music. Let that slide by you folks, its merely a distraction. Jeb Bush brought on a poor showing in Iowa and was outdone by Mitt Filet-O-Fish Romney but no need to jump into those statistics, not yet. Both those hustlers will be back again and again before this is all over. The Democrats have just as many political failures throwing their hat in the ring and I’m sure they’ll be weeded out in due time but among all the two party wanna-bes, my suggestion is to take a good close look at Chris Christie.
The Republican Governor of New Jersey has been building his credibility as a viable candidate for this next election and when you place him in with all the other fodder he does seem to be the best suited in the mix, as far as Republican hopefuls go. On a speech he gave Tuesday he unleashed a strong campaign sized theme of renewal for our nation.
This administration believes today, and has always believed, that New Jersey and America will be a better place for middle class families when we shrink the size of government at every level. We need a New Jersey renewal. We need an American renewal.
His hat is not fully placed in the ring yet but if he continues to draw support from a middle class fan base I don’t see how the public wont push him into running. The whole Bridge-gate issue he suffered will be overlooked (in the long run) and more than likely be used as a quick rabbit punch to the kidney during the campaign runoff, but the Big Man can take it. Christie has the savvy and the gonads to go toe to toe with the likes of a Bush or Romney and come out looking like a doer-not a talker.
No one finds a candidate that they believe and trust in one hundred percent but you hope to back someone who can accomplish a few things in their term. This is why I give kudos to Barack Obama. The guy had an uphill fight to try and bring about Hope and Change amid chaos and dissention. Everyone was so worried about his birth certificate or whether he was a Muslim or if he was going to bring about some Black Armmagedon that their suspicions left them uncooperative to any plan the man had. Meanwhile, in the real world, the deficit dwindled and gas prices sunk below two dollars and that shit didn’t happen because John Boehnner and Mitch McConnell slaved away to trade negotiate it. The influences, whether direct or indirect, of our country’s leader can be a powerful tool in boosting or killing our economy. This is why when I look to the future, after this current Administration has packed its bags and left the White House, I begin to look toward the Big Man. The Big Man just might have what it takes folks. Just watch him a while-that’s all I’m saying.


I Am Charlie


Anyone with the slightest amount of compassion had to have felt something when they heard about the brutal attack on the offices of Charlie Hebdo, a French satirical newspaper; a couple of religious zealots decided to avenge the deluded idea of what they call God by killing cartoonists who depicted the prophet Muhamed in a jesting manner. Granted I have not seen everything in my life but based on what I have seen and experienced, this ranks in the top three atrocities I have ever lived through. I mourn for you France and I mourn for what our world has lost.
This barbaric act is supposed to be an honorable thing to such believers? I find that hard to fathom when you are talking about individuals who have such a weak base of faith that the only way to prove to themselves that their ideals are right is to smash and destroy everything else. They feel it is offensive to depict their religions founder? I find their non-acceptance of others ten times more offensive. They have less empathy than an animal and no honor at all. This went beyond the mere religious aspects because after the heinous act, they held up a store and stole a car. What honor and glory does their Prophet teach them from acts like that?
So now the seal is broken and the consequence has been dealt. What are we to do? Do we cower to the terrorists tactics and forbid printing images of religious icons? Do we allow the laws of one specific tribe to dictate how this world will run? I feel the best thing to do is to spread the image of Muhamed everywhere you can-pencil in little cartoons here and there. Throw that shit on the back of a stop sign, etch it in a dirty car window. It should be made clear that we are not prepared to go back to the era of artistic censorship in the name of some deity. Our world went through that shit back during the Renaissance and that twist in history proved forbidding artistic expression was not a bonus by any means.
The thing we must not do is strike out premature against the Muslim nation. These are arduous times and the clash between the main three-Christianity, Islam and Jewish faith-seems to become more caustic as our world shrinks around us. Technology and communication has us all within arms reach of one another and what could once be dealt with as being over there is more in our face than ever before. Is the world ready to start the ultimate showdown over freedom of expression? Are we all ready to launch a mass attack against a religious opponent? I hope that we see it more as a time for defiance in the face of fear rather than letting it broil us to the point of war. War has always been and always will be, the end result of futility with very little constructive payoff. We need to all get along. Those responsible for the brutal attack need to be brought to justice and we all need to live together until the day comes when we leave this world of natural causes-God willing.
This affects us all and we must all stand together to stay strong. Remember; you are Charlie. I am Charlie. We are all Charlie.


2:015: The Mundanity and Fear Thrive


It was a bitter cold Monday evening and as I approached my local quick grab Dollar Store for my evening meal I was disappointed to find they had been closed down for the evening. When they shut up and lock up that fast it means robbery…another bullshit punk attempt to get a few dollars by someone out there. We’ve been having a string of petty thefts near my place and a fellow resident believes it could be heroin related; I don’t necessarily write off that possibility. Once I get to my place I adjust the evening meal plans and quickly peruse the social scene online and see yet another fearing post someone puts out there denying Facebook the usage of any personal photos, info, data, etc. from their page. This is posted by someone who freely allows anyone in the country to access their page and look at photos, download info, etc. so why is it such a threat to them to have their privacy infringed upon? You use your privacy the instant you click on that beast. People don’t care if their personal data is being distributed-hell they encourage it themselves so, why the fear?
Stories erupt to persuade arguments between opposing party members online and just like last year, and the year before that, and the year before that, Democrats continue to cry foul at Republicans and Republicans retaliate with just as much piss and venom and I look at the mundanity of political choice we are given and wonder how, with all this incentive for betterment, are we allowing the same old characters back through the door for election?
The mundanity and fear continue to stir viewers online because the media resources that lambaste us daily with fluff stories and non-news have a hell of a job trying to keep us entertained (or at least momentarily frozen like a deer in headlights). If tomorrow people stopped watching Fox News and MSNBC and stayed off AOL news online or refused to click on that picture which ensures you the rest of the image will shock you, businesses would suffer internal cramps from the lack of attention. Clicks and hits to a website break down to numbers that advertisers out there will pay attention to. If Acme, Inc. sees a steady clickrate of visitors to a particular site, they are going to be willing to invest some money into banner placement there to try and attract potential consumers to get Acme goods. If the site runs dry and people stop going there, the advertising banner becomes ineffective; therefore it is in the interest of the Acme and the owners of said website to glue your ass there. Keep you scared and convinced that this site alone is the only one out there providing the most up-to-date scoop on ebola or the nasty thing that Jeb Bush just said or the newest shooting in a town you never would have heard about.
I buy into that swill so little anymore because I have been cleansed through association with real live human beings. My jaunts to a great little neighborhood gathering has groups of hip motherfuckers collecting to leave technological scare aside, to be in the company of one another and dance and groove on good music and enjoy in delightful conversations with everyone. Its a hidden little cove that, as Will put it (Will is just one of the many who go there) to get there you have to go through the portal. In a way, he is dead right with that statement. You have to leave all that fear and mundanity behind you and wander into an atmosphere where people accept one another and if you need to you can stay there for the night and pontificating points of interest fly through the air mixed with gin and dope into the wee hours of the morning and at the end of the evening, everyone feels a unity with one another. There is no concern of Facebook stealing your personal data, no alarm of non-functioning politicians, no cowering with fear wondering where that robber went to but if you feel this tribal encampment sounds a bit too altruistic or too old school hippy for your taste then by all means, continue to let the fear seep in. It will be there for you right into the 2016 election…enjoy your 2015. Click on those buttons, read that Facebook post..and the next..

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January 2015

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