Ain't that the Truth

"Religious people fear hell, spiritual people have been there."

-Sister Louisa

xtra xtra

Been browsing through some Irish blogs. This story is pretty funny too.

xtra

For those who might not know about the IRA, Eamonn Fitzgerald gives a tidbit of history and makes a very good point. I especially like his use of the word "gangsterism."

Slainte

I like Twenty Major's IRA Statement. I was in N.I. when the bank heist went down. Funny enough, before the headlines came out, I met a (we're whispering now) police officer (at a non-policeofficer-supporting pub), who told me they knew it was some IRA boys.

They ARE all a bunch of thugs anyways. And those in Americay who back/has backed these guys are thugs too. It's the same everywhere: Greed/Money/Prestige/Death to all those who get in the way.

I have to say though, that it is pretty f**ked up that the U.S. government didn't start making a big deal out of terrorism in the U.K. until this Bin Laden shit. We've had embassies and aircraft carrriers bombed, the U.K. has had years of bombings, and it took a thick-skinned "Anti-Humanitarian" Texas-man, to finally say 'We're not playing games with you guys anymore, stop killing our people.' But it is a fact that he wouldn't be pushing for world-wide anti-terrorism if the U.S. hadn't been hit.

I am Libertarian and a 'less government' fan, but if there is one thing I support my government taking over- it's the protection of it's people from mass murderers.

Boy does this sound familiar......

This is from “Northanger Abbey” by Jane Austen. Originally published in 1818.

Catherine is commenting about Mr. Thorpe, with whom she was on a carriage ride with. He had just stretched the truth to her, causing some worry.

“By him the whole manner seemed entirely forgotten; and all the rest of his conversation, or rather talk, began and ended with himself and his own concerns. He told her of horses which he had bought for a trifle and sold for incredible sums; of racing matches, in which his judgement had infallibly foretold the winner; of shooting parties, in which he had killed more birds (though without having one good shot) than all his companions together; and described to her some famous day’s sport, with the fox-hounds, in which his foresight and skill in directing the dogs had repaired the mistakes of the most experienced huntsmen, and in which the boldness of his riding, though it had never endangered his own life for a moment, had been constantly leading others into difficulties, which he calmly concluded had broken the necks of many.”

Some things never change.

I Love It!

Alcohol abuse is always a shame.

Natural Brutality

This morning I witnessed an interesting event. I was sitting on a concrete bench, killing time before class. I saw a big fire-ant scurrying beside me. I watched him so that he wouldn’t crawl on me. Out of nowhere this spider, who was the same size, jumped out and started attacking the ant. I thought to myself “this should be good… I wonder who will win this?” They both went at each other with their two front legs, and then suddenly, one of the ant’s front legs was stuck to the concrete. It was at this point when it sank in that this was a fight to the death. I watched for a few more seconds as the ant struggled to get its leg free, and then tried to intervene and help the ant out with its leg. I couldn’t get the leg free without completely ripping it off, so I gave up. And then one of his back legs was stuck to the concrete. My curiosity abounded, and I had to keep watching (despite my exclamations of horror.) He was in complete submission, but still struggling to break free, as his movements got slower and slower. I think the spider hit him with some type of paralyzing poison. The ant curled up and died. This happened within a minute. It was brutal, exciting, and had my adrenaline going. I wanted to save the ant, but was fascinated to see nature in action. At the end, the spider circled the ant, unhooked it’s legs from the concrete, and picked it up and carried it away. Wow.

My New Favorite Animal: The Tarsier

Here's to Big Cahones

Today I spent some time with my friend Natalie. She showed me a few polaroids from the party that ensued Friday night into Saturday. They were pictures of our friend Daisy fabulously clad in a white evening gown and also a little leather outfit. It still amazes me how hot she is for a guy, and the best part about being out with her is seeing the looks on people’s faces when they first see/meet her. It takes the cake for me every time. I complain about how I’m sick of the bar-rat lifestyle, but when I meet such fascinating people, like Daisy, it brings a redeeming factor to it all.

When I first met Daisy I was bartending, and I could hardly keep my composure when she sat down with a friend of hers and ordered a Sex on the Beach. The bar itself, is this elongated shack in a semi-industrial area, with a gravel parking lot that is full of pot-holes. It was once known as The Sea Shanty, then The Outhouse (appropriately), and now The Other Bar. The majority of the patrons are bikers and rednecks or some mixed-breed (sometimes crackhead) tuckerite. From what I recall, there were quite a few Harleys parked out front this particular evening, and David Allen Coe was blasting from the juke box. In walks this 6ft tall gorgeous transvestite in stilettos and a skin-tight black mini-dress that revealed her stomach. She seemed a little shy, like maybe she wasn’t sure of how I was going to treat her.

The first wave of my desire for uproarious laughter hit me as I was asking her what she wanted to drink and wondering how long it would take for all the men around me to realize she’s really a guy. As Daisy replied “a Sex on the Beach”, I hear one of the bikers behind me shout out in a gravelly southern accent “That’s a DUDE!” I had to do some deep breathing exercises as I headed towards the ice basin to prepare the drinks. While I was there my co-worker, Julie, comes up to me to ask me a question. “Lisa, Do you know if….(breath gasp) IS THAT A” I cut her off saying “Don’t you start…I’m trying to keep my composure.” Myself, and others got to know her within that evening, and it turned out to be a good night.

I’ve found Daisy to be a fun person to be around. She’s creative and theatrical and ballsy. As someone said to me one time “She’s got to have big cahones to walk into a bar like that.” I totally agree. She’s got a show coming up on the 31st. She’s going to be Daisy Duke and Wonder Woman. It should be fun.

murder murder murder

Something I wrote a few days ago when I wasn't near a computer.

Thinking about how various suicide bombings and attacks happen everyday in the Middle East. I have heard people before say that we don't know what it is like to live with constant terrorism. They are right. We do not know what it is like to have daily mass murders. Those of us in the (dare I say) "civilized" world don't condone mass murder, so therefore it is not a commonplace event. When we do experience mass murder it is a shock, and the person or persons responsible deemed insane. It's a bottom-line truth that sane people do not go around killing each other. I look at the recent mass murders that have taken place, the Madrid and London bombings and last week's suicide bomb which went off at an American humvee with children all around it, and it is very clear to me that the perpetrators are insane. There is nothing more to explain away about their character unless it be the accusation of pure evil. I cannot see how so many in this world try to empathize with the "plight" of these murders just because they kill in the name of their God. We need to start sending boxes of straight jackets to the Middle Eastern governments. Oh, but that would be violating their human rights, wouldn't it? I say we find these Jack Muhammed the Rippers and Charles al-bin Mansons, put them in the pig skin straight jackets they deserve, make this world a safer place, and make room for the most basic of all human rights- to survive.

Spent all last night looking up other resources about Cottonmouth. I never knew to what extent his work entailed, but he was quite the scholar. here's some more links....

His commentary on Mick Jagger (smiles) http://www.credenda.org/issues/14-3exlibris.php

His friend writes of him (I especially like the last sentence)http://culturalleadership.blogspot.com/2005/06/theodore-p-letis-in-memorium.html

July 16, 2005
Went to open mic night last night at the little dive I used to work at, The Other Bar. I went in with high expectations, remembering how fun the last one I went to was. That night all of my favorite people were there and some new friends. Among them were my favorite Fidel Castro lover, Cottonmouth, and Daisy, who is a female impersonator (one of the funniest PC terms I've come across as of late). You never know what to expect on open mic night. Sometimes its just one guy who really sucks at playing and singing, or it may be multiple artists that are very talented who make these spur of the moment hodge-podge bands that are brilliant.

Last night I had my heart set on seeing Cottonmouth, and really hoped that it was a night that he randomly showed up. I've heard him play the harp a few times in some of the hodge-podges, and was really impressed. The first time I met him was at another local bar and he was looking completely out of place. This particular bar is a venue for death metal type bands, and there he was at the bar sitting alone watching the bands and talking to the bar tender. He was wearing a tweed sport coat and smoking a fat cigar. I sat next to him and we had a long conversation about History and politics, he being a History professor and I a history major. He gave me at list of books to read with his phone number on the back.

It was at least six months later, when I began working at the dive, that we became re-acquainted. The first time I was his bartender he had expressed to me how Fidel Castro was his "hero." I was completely shocked because I had never heard those words come out of anybody's mouth. I dismissed the conversation saying that I didn't really know much about Cuba, Castro, or communism (other than what government schools have taught me) and was unable to have a discussion about it. It did open a curiosity up for me to learn more about the subject. At the time I had a wonderful oportunity to learn more; seeing as my Spanish teacher was a Cuban woman who left Cuba with her husband and children in 1965, six years after they applied to leave the country. Upon other meetings and conversations, I found him to be very intelligent and interesting. Our conversations were challenging and fun for me. When I would see him I'd say "there's my favorite Castro lover!" I enjoyed seeing him because the majority of my customers were druggie half-wits and he brought a refreshing change in my scenery.

So last night I sat at the bar while my friends settled in. My ex-customer Michelle came and sat next to me and we began to exchange the 'what have you been up to latelys.' She told me that a friend of hers died a few weeks ago in a car accident, and it turns out it was Cottonmouth. She didn't know that I knew him upon telling me. Needless to say I was very shocked and upset. She knew him as the harmonica playing blues player and not as the professor, and for me it was more vice-versa. He was such a cool guy with many talents and many friends and will be missed very much.

Theodore "Cottonmouth" Letis we love you!!

Yo digo ese para ti- y solo ti........Viva Fidel Castro!

www.holywordcafe.com/bible/Letis.html