Queue up!

This is the conceit of progressives…that they know best about <insert highly controversial subject here> and that their answers are the only correct answers. It doesn’t matter that they have little to no experience in the subject matter…you see, they have “principles” that override actual real world experience. Additionally they have academics in shining ivory towers churning out reams and reams of massively complicated programs and policies—designed to be paid for by other people—who will then receive no benefit whatsoever from the programs they are paying for. But I digress…the question is, “How much should a CEO get paid?”

How the hell should I know.

And that my friends is the point. I have no idea of his/her education, work experience, technical background, family history…nothing…nor do I know anything about the inner workings of the corporation, the compensation committee, the organizational structure…basically how anyone, let alone the CEO, gets compensated whether it’s money or stock or shiny red apples. I do know one thing though…

…it’s none of my fucking business.

I also know another thing, and I know that this other thing is as true as anything is true on this planet. I know that if someone came off the street and walked into your place of work, whether it’s a hospital because you’re a nurse, a market because you’re a grocery bagger, a 29th floor conference room because you’re a business consultant—or wherever you work—I know that if that person walked in and, to all of those around you said, in a VERY LOUD voice, exactly how much money you make…*and* that you make far too much money…*and* that you should be paid much less…

…I know that you will be pissed off.

So as you listen to the Elizabeth Warrens and Bernie Sanders of the world go on and on about how they know that CEOs are paid far too much money (while they put speaking fees and book royalties in their own bank accounts) just remember that while CEO’s are first in line to be pulled down into dismal mediocrity by “progressive” thinkers…

…you’re standing in the same line…it’s just not your turn yet.

Believe. Go. Do.


It wasn’t

It wasn’t her mouth, her eyes, her
demeanor. ..a trap all…it was
the motion from there to here, a
sashay of emotion, the glisten of
wet skin
clinging fabric
the idea once had and forgotten
and reanimated
Lazarus of the moment
she seemed so…
I had no choice but to follow
one heartbeat
it wasn’t her mouth, her eyes, her
willing trajectory
it was the shine of
bright expectation
jagged breath
and the
relaxation into
sullenly disappearing
into that
which is


This is your
paradox, your
choice, your moment
in the sun…riding
the edge between yes and no
you are and you aren’t
giving and taking you
push the envelope, or
you feel and you move and you
arrive and you leave…
you fall toward
and away from
you are at that moment of the giveaway
or the keep forever
you stand so close you can feel the heat
from skin from time from intent from
you stand so close
you hold your breath
you hold
you are in that gulf
between giving and
taking…between winning
and losing

accepting the motion

this is your paradox
be loved
hold onto
let go
your choice

your moment
you stand so close
to me

choose yes

Random Zen v1


I woke up thinking about animals with razor sharp teeth and started wondering how often they bite their tongues. I have regular old human teeth, mostly molars but a few incisors, and I bite my tongue—or worse, the inside of my mouth—a couple times a month…and fuck it hurts. Tearing up, stomping feet, cursing the world hurt. If a lion or a bear or tiger did that it must be super painful….so…

…now I know why they’re so mean and grumpy.

And speaking of grumpy, well, at least mean, have you ever wanted to beat the hell out of a body builder just because they have all those muscles? They get the girls, they kick sand in your face at the beach (saw that in the back of a comic book) and generally they are simply badass…so why not want to beat them up? Well…I know exactly what to do…

…and when.

I’ve been lifting weights for about 3-4 years and I have to tell you, the best time to physically attack a body builder is right after they do a massive upper body workout. Seriously. You barely have to tap them on the shoulder to get them to cry like a baby…and they couldn’t lift a glass of water—let alone a hand to protect themselves…

…believe me, I know.

But if you really want to talk about something that just doesn’t sound right, we have to mention the fact that beautiful girls and women hate their own looks more than anyone else on this planet (hate their own looks, not hate the beautiful girls). I’m not kidding (but less than the way you’re thinking about it). Consider this, beautiful women are beautiful because they are close to the “ideal” that our chauvinistic and misogynistic society endlessly promotes…and that’s the point, they are “close”. They aren’t it exactly. They have flaws the same as the rest of us ugly people but their flaws are magnified a bazillion times and constantly noticed by themselves and others (to try to “bring them down” to our level)…but…

…dating celebrities, head of the line privileges and free drinks make up for it I guess ;)

Believe. Go. Do.


It’s not medicine

Do you ever wonder how many scientists and government and non-government agents as well as media and news reporting people—holy shit they have to number in the thousands…if not more—that are all keeping the secret (apparently from the pharmacology industry as well as you) that 5 servings of raw rutabagas a day absolutely cures cancer? Or maybe it’s ginseng or St. John’s Wort or one of the gazillion other alternative medicine, “free” and natural resources on this planet. It doesn’t matter what the magical, mystical “thing” is…

…it’s a fact that they are all keeping such a vital and life changing secret from you because…um…

…because they’re not.

There is only one kind of medicine, the kind that causes—through experimentation and documentable proof— a demonstrable and positive change in an underlying (negative) physical condition. It is based on facts and evidence derived from hypothesis and scientifically valid experimentation run by multiple, unassociated groups using the same resources following the same formulations and processes.

Alternatives to that are not called medicine, they are called wishes.

That there is some huge anti-human health conspiracy roiling just under the surface of our government, our universities and, most importantly, our huge pharmacological corporations all designed to restrict or eliminate these alternative, “free” and natural resources in order to maximize their profits is not only ludicrous, it’s just plain impossible.

We are talking about vast swaths of human beings—the same type of idiots who won’t let you merge on the freeway, who throw trash on the street, who walk so slow in front of you that you just want to push them into traffic—all uniformly and consistently keeping a massive, world wrapping conspiracy amongst themselves. The same people you hear on the grocery store line telling a friend on the phone about their cheating wives or husbands, their deadbeat delinquent kids…

…or who tell you, in intricate detail, all about their boob jobs, their sexual dysfunction or upcoming colonoscopy’s on Facebook! You really think that all those idiots—and you and I might be included in that population–can keep something like “curing cancer with vegetables” under their hat?


Believe. Go. Do.


Political Fact

Political fact. Let that roll around inside your mouth for a minute, feel it’s slimy smoothness as it slides across tongue and teeth but also its edge, it’s protrusions…it’s “almost” razor blade sharpness. Say it out loud…Political Fact. Over pronounce the guttural “P” and “T”…Political Fact. Let it sit there in the air in front of you, mocking you, calling into disbelief all that you thought you were sure of.

Everything that you believe about the people who lead us.

Political fact is not only oxymoronic, it is the actualization—literal translation—of non-drying modeling clay into actual words; malleable, formable, changeable. It is the use of words as mere figments…user defined and subject to change…to convey whatever meaning is needed at the moment. Even if the moment is continually changing, the words will keep up…and be redefined as required. The “actual” words meaningless and bereft of value, they are chameleon pieces of the puzzle, transformed on contact.

Political facts are irrelevant to political party, they are untied from governing, from the scheme of things. They exist by fiat and by the pressures of power and the hoarding of power whilst simultaneously being the fundamental underpinnings of power.

Political power cannot exist without political fact.

The people who leads us, who govern us are generally unable to experience the self-awareness required to realize how deeply and fundamentally they lie to us. They believe what they say because it is “political fact” never seeing its manufacture, it’s creation and management through to its transformation into an entirely different product, over and over again. We can ask the question “Can a lie tell itself apart from the truth?”

Does water know it is wet?

Political fact guarantees that there will be more losers than winners, more poor than rich, more hungry than fed, more ‘have nots’ than ‘haves’ and more lies than truths because political fact cares nothing for reality. Political fact cares only for the power that it can create and maintain. It cares for girth and reach and breadth and bigger and bigger swaths to govern and control because power and money flows from control.

And control is everything.

Forget political party, forget deeply held philosophical beliefs, forget domestic or foreign, defense or economic policy…forget what you know about the people who govern us…

…instead, concentrate on allowing them as little as possible to govern.


It was an algorithm, a nine
by nine meter square of total
…a beating heart
she interrupted the quiet
of thinking looking breathing
not knowing
she was pushing me
forward (to a moment|
a minute…a mad
dash toward…) I am
left wondering
wandering alone
or not thinking (the
same) while the
algorithm silently ticks
forward, back, to the left
upward…a geared assembly
turning clockwork—
asked and I
answered, without knowing
thinking…I just said