I’m still convinced that using the NFL Replay Challenge Rule as a model for Senate Filibuster Challenges would allow for the true rights of the minority without just gumming up the legislative works valde abominanda (exceedingly nauseatingly).
You’d have a given number per session — say 25, more than the average in the Reagan term — you’d have to save them for things that actually mattered. *How* you were required to perform them would be Part B.
Nonviolence .. Gandhi
Amygdala Notes 03.03.12-
…I have a friend who’s suffering with severe anxiety/panic Attacks, a hideous and baffling and exhausting condition for all concerned.
…Since the middle of August it’s been a titanic struggle for qv (pseudoinitials . .) to stay afloat. He’s getting medication but except for the sleeping meds (trazodone/desyrel knock off), I don’t believe in any of them. My conviction is that the WTW (Way Too White) guys are undergoing what you might grok as a molting of an exoskeleton which sort of seemed to have served them well for a few centuries. Without these carapaces, they naturally enough feel exceedingly vulnerable, panicky, disoriented. For a Scorpio who decided (at the EtherCentral level) to bloody jump off the Deep End and get it all over with !!BAM POW!! qv is suffering Boschian hells if not damnations.
…Of most help have been Don’t Panic by Reid Wilson, a Pass Thru Panic CD by Claire Weeks, and recently a Buteyko Breathing Workshop with Robert Litman. Before I heard abour Buteyko, I knew my friend was what I called “micro-hyperventilating.” Buteyko calls it “hidden hyperventilation.” I have zero doubt that it is this habitual too-little CO2 Breathing disturbance that is the actual cause and cure of this dreary and dreadful condition.
Free diamonds
…Druidism is about the immediate free diamonds always at hand, ever, ever. Ever immediate, ever astonishing. ‘Astonish’ — to strike with thunder, to strike with wonder. you are tender, you are fierce. It burns, it all burns. Grok it. A hummingbird? If a humming bird doesn’t make you want to rip your ear off, have you got a pulse?
…The magnification or glowification, illumination of every thing– more candles, more fireflies, more emerald fire, all the each-leaves that the universe keeps count of every heartbeat; heartbeat, blink, breath.
…Poetry should clarify, illuminate — like walking into a dark room and flicking the light on, here, clear, now, wow; illuminate, document the history of mystery, aha, eureka, jumpin’ jehoshaphat. Yippee. Standing ovation. you applaud. It preens. you notice, you admire, lo! adore! its sheen, it preens.
…A mobius affection, unhurriedly, happily, without end, befriend each other, you and the grassblades, the dear patient dirt plotting flowers. Watch the dream arrive, thrive.
…It’s a chalice, it’s a palace, relish it, embellish it, revere, treasure it , the pleasure of it, the measureless pleasure of it.
Tools & Jewels
Tools & Jewels
If the Flashy Stuff comes your way, hooray. What about all the hours and days in between? This book, Ask Dr. Druid, is about that how. Tools and jewels: in Book 1, we focus on the masterpiece of reality engineering that is your extraordinary ordinary life. In 55 days, you will have a shine of gladness that cannot tarnish or falter.
To Druids, whole and holy joy has to be portable, immediate, constant, wry, and luscious whether you're in a mansion or a hut, in a storm, musing on a sunny street corner, or doing the dear Damn Dishes.
Won't I be bored being happy all the time? Well, gee, no. There are as many startling tastes of happiness as there are leaves on trees in forests. Being eclectic–choosing the best from all possible sources–keeps your delight ignited.
Besides, dear Reader, you're going to need that reservoir of joy to decipher People, their treacheries, lecheries, and sudden kindnesses (Book 2) and to serve Justice (Book 3).
Press on, regardless.
====
Ask Dr. Druid, 55 Days from Lead to Gold, Secrets of Alchemy You Can Use, a druid shaman’s playbook
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Constitution mnemonic .. domestic Tranquility
FEIPPS is the mnemonic for remembering the items in the preamble to the Constitution. (Yes, there will be a quiz! I quiz myself pretty frequently until I get it nailed.)
Form a more perfect Union;
Establish Justice;
Insure domestic Tranquility;
Provide for the common defence; (sic)
Promote the general Welfare;
Secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity;
Notes: The Provide & Promote both begin with “p-r-o.” They are not alphabetical — i.e. “provide” comes in the list before “promote.”
In so far as I can see in facsimiles, the original spelling was defence with a 'c.'
I used the following on an NYT Comment:
Ridding our beloved community of 30-bullet-clips that can murder or maim
20 people in less than a minute might clearly be required under the
notion of “insure domestic Tranquility“?
Medicare-for-All might remind us of our national promise to “promote the general Welfare“?
My new teeshirt: REMINDER: BE KINDER
===
I used the fab chocolate rabbit in local yellow Spring flowers pict for domestic Tranquility because it makes you feel preposterously merry and contented — as Tranquility ought.
===
I appreciate your passing my url along.
http://www.wendyfleet.com
id-ridden
id-ridden
This subject has been nudging me sometimes, hounding me
sometimes. It's a meta-consideration of What the Heck is Going ON?
Forgive the ramble — this is just fancy notes. A friend mentioned Pandora's Box, & I do think a key
to this, a portal, was the bizarre picking of P***n for VP by John
McCain. It was a truly peculiar, shot-in-the-dark 'choice.'
First
tangent; P***n is a nitwit; she's *not* stupid, tho you could say she
is stup-ID, she is definitely id-ridden; she is belligerently ignoRANT,
relentless pursuing her freedom of screech; She & fellow pipsqueak
Adolf are/were puppets of the Realm of Archetypes. There is a charisma
or glamor that attends such people. You might say they are possessed by
the Id. They bypass the forebrain. The upwelling of previously
unconscious contents spews forth an Absurd which we can all but not bear
to grok (Grin & grok it?); our minds select for order, eschew the
obvious rampant madness that lurches abroad; You could say that P***n is
a genius of cunning.
With P***n were loosed the TeaBaggers; Sue Lowden, the lady who
seriously & repeatedly suggested that “poor people” pay for their
health care with chickens — and when she was defeated in the primary,
we got the wongoier-bongoier Second-Amendment-Remedies Sharron Angle, a worse nutter. We need a
nutter-o-meter now. Harry Reid was at, like, 18% approval or somesuch —
NO way he was going to win in Nevada period. Then there was Mike
Castle in Delaware going for Biden's old Senate seat. One of the last
ordinary old-school Republicans — hugely popular in Delaware. Zero
chance a Democrat could win that seat with comfy ole Mike running. Then
out of P***n's Box slid Christine O'Donnell — a Bagger who beat Castle
handily (6 points) in the primary, a candidate so preposterous, so
fraught with nitwittery that the Democrat, Chris Coons, won by 17
points.
Anyhow, I've been feeling the nation, in a very slo-mo avalanche, having
a psychotic break. Loonland has become the new normal. Instead of
pointing at these people and either laughing highpitched hysterical
laughter or semi-kindly taking the folks away in jackets with long arms
that tie behind, we actually interview them on tv shows. We are truly,
as opposed to figuratively, become an Asylum Country, if not an Asylum
Planet .
In the upheaval (What a great word. You have 'heaving up' and it gets
packaged into 'upheaval' Yum.) of the Financial system was revealed —
the entire serious 'occupation' of White Guys for 30 years — to have
been (“Charlie, don't let anyone ever tell you that Wall Street is
anything but a Casino for Suits”/1992) this behemothily mighty fooking
giga-fraud. Gravity, what we took for solid ground, all, all is
quicksand. We cling to shreds of putative reason to shelter our minds
from just how bloody unhinged it's all becoming. Oddness and much worse
are ricocheting around the country and probably the planet. Mordor
always re-rises. The Gulf oil volcano was as vivID an illustration of
the upsurging of buried contents as could be imagined. Too many pelicans
are collateral damage of corporate capitalism, their dear feathers
slimed. We pelicans.
On Friday night, I got this wyrd magazine from EastWest in which I
indulge periodically. It's called Atlantis Rising. New Age. Half
Loonland, half fascinating, often alternating between those sentence by
sentence. There's this peculiar article about Romania and the Violet
Flame, psychic warfare in the 1989 Romanian Revolution. (Written by a
Boston University professor with a phd in geology from Yale. Not that
those credentials mean you're not crazy, but it's not as automatic as if
you graduated from Falwell U.) So I'm reading contentedly along and
then this comes up. “Former U.S. Army Lt. Col. Thomas E. Bearden,
writing a decade before the Romanian Revolution in his book Excalibur
Briefing (1980), explained such phenomenon [cf foo fighters] as
tulpoidal (thought-form) manifestations from the collective human
unconsciousness stating, 'A war is a typical example of a situation
where the group consciousness of a country is under enormous pressure.
In such a situation, the targeted population is often exposed to
tulpoidal manifestations from time to time.'”
Well, knock me over with a (large) feather. A tulpa is a Tibetan word
for a magically wrought thought-form. (pronouced tull-pa, I think, not
tool-pa, 'tull' rhyming with hull or dull or lull; tull-POY-dull;) I've
never seen or heard the word tulpoidal before. But this war-induced
release of unconscious contents is exactly what's happening now and it's
trez fookme wyrd. Not just quirky, but Boschian. Only Bosch possibly
begins to illustrate it. Now, we don't have WW1 or WW2, but there is
some other odder seismic shift afoot, some major shifting of the ground.
I keep telling myself as I watch the politics that superlatives are
failing, my beloved beloved English which has served for thousands of
years to say the most, the most savage and the most dainty, is failing
to hold the degree of wyrdness. You want to cut your right ear off.
I think I remain sane, such as that is. But I feel a slipperiness in
reality. Even the daggone New Yorker had a long article in which science
and its once vaunted “method” is getting slippery; once solid results
carefully achieved are no longer holding or maintaining. The New Yorker
this very week fer gawds sakes.
The veils that are supposed to be between the bardos or layers of the
onion, the layers of realities, are suddenly, randomly patchy. There
have always been vortexes, portals, but whether the magnetic field is
ready to flip (as it “scientifically” does now & again) or 2012 is a
true prophecy, or who the heck knows, but The Something is going on.
One's timbers shiver; well, shudder. Duh, of course it would be just
fascinating if so many little people weren't getting mangled as a side
effect of these feckless feints of fate. It is very very good that however slimeordial, it's slithering into the light. Only in the light can we be woken to act more sanely.
…
…
picts from hieronymous bosch, the only possible illustrator of our 3G Era (Gilded Gloating Greedy)
..
wendyfleet@gmail.com
copyright 2010 all rights
RepubliCorporazis' Logo
Trenchant vi$ual tweak done up by my aff (anonymous friend forever). Anonymou$ because the offal Corporazis might pursue him/her to make a lampshade out of his/ her $kin for daring in$ufficient $ubmission. (Actually done to a series of unsuspecting tourists in the 1950s by some uberpsycho in the MidWest of the USofA.)
stunpuns 1 .. constitution-i-ness, noseworms
Silly if pithy stunpuns . . . These come to me as I drift off to sleep.
constitutioniness
(constitution-i-ness, cf truth-i-ness), Christine ODonnell version of
The Great Document. The TeaBaggers' assault, their insult upon the
trembling emblems of the nation — faux constitutioniness, faux liberty
for the richest few, condemning millions of citizens to sludgery, a kind of slavish drudgery, underpaid and undersung. O Donnell came out of the I Don't Have A Clue About The Constitution Closet.
teabaggers /
flossjockeys — trying to scrape all that fluoride
off their teeth. A mistake because fluoride is the medium thru which you
communicate with the Mother Ship. It ain't the fillings, it's the
fluoride. Like, duh.
noseworms — look out for the telltale signs of noseworms which have eaten out the brains of the evangolunatic republicans.
ignoninny
— a republic nitwit, ipso factissimo all republics.
ku klux klunatics — they don't even bother with the sheets anymore; no 600 count percale for this new breed of ku klux klunatics. Ayn Paul — ku klux klandestine dog-whistle clatter and clutter.
scheming meanies
— teabaggers. The fangry teabaggers, the kindness-o-phobes.
The teabaggers are childishly churlish, hurling churlish epithets at the
non-rabid. Rabies is their mental affliction of choice, their chalice
of malice.
Stomper Room graduates.
Tea Party conversation is Raging Bullsh-t. [Raging Bulldung in polite circles, perhaps.) I'm grieved you're so aggrieved.
Palin et all — too many faux
charmaments. The over-amped champions of constitutioniness. Quitter-in-Chief Sarah's talk about reloading, her bazookas of bombast. A crockophile — an amphibious republic who loves her lying, therefore all of 'em. Palinombies — are they true zombies? You betcha! Bat chat — squeaks & squeals beyond normal human hearing — cf dog whistle.
beckerwood — a certified jerk in the malicious-ignorance
mold of glennbeck, that manstrosity. (The NYT Magazine article was
cretin hagiography. How delectable that the trez droll word
'hagiography' means writing about saints. Inherently hilarious.)
cheers always, wendy
….
Read the explosive Cheney's Mistress' Diaries at http://www.wendyfleet.com/
…..
Millionaires-&-Billionaires part 1
xx
091810 Sept 19 2010
Exploding the deficit to give a Tax-Handout to the Millionaires-&-Billionaires? Not smart. Not fair.
Millionaires-&-Billionaires steal from the poor;
They steal plenty
And then they want more.
Too many groats for the Billionaire Goats
Who perch on their Mountain of Stolen Gold
And gloat
While us paycheck dolts
Desperately try to
Stay afloat.
Millionaires-&-Billionaires call stealing earning;
They don't earn, they steal;
Please brother can you spare a dime,
Millionaires, Billionaires,
That much greed is a crime.
We been conned for 30 years and more,
Steal from the poor
To fatten the rich,
Millionaires, Billionaires,
They gotta great con goin' —
They steal your shirt
And blame you for feeling cold;
They crash your pension
And blame you for getting old.
Greed Panels:
The Millionaires-&-Billionaires in their boardrooms scheming
How to squeeze more from the poor,
How to milk the Middle Class.
Got greed?
Greed hurts.
Got mugged?
The Millionaires-&-Billionaires Tax Scam:
They crash the pensions and savings of 98% of us, they ship out our jobs,
And whimper for a Great BailOut and now a huge Tax HandOut.
Tax Welfare for the Millionaires-&-Billionaires.
They drive on our Socialist Roads and flush their offal into our Socialist Sewers.
Got dupes?
[Tee shirt for Millionaires-&-Billionaires]